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#it would have hit so good and you can't tell me otherwise
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The one hill I'll die on for YR s3
When Kristina said "it's hard to be your mom and your boss" I really just wanted Wille to say I didn't need you to be my boss I needed you to be my MOM
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mrfoox · 2 years
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I'm going to struggle to sleep and get up tomorrow
Curse it all
#miranda talking shit#At one hand i liked the conversation i had with fabian and i think i got some answers to questions ive been wondering about but im also lik#Unpacking all this.... So much to unpacking and to be put in a folder in my head where does it all go... Still hate how#He hit me with the biggest ... Maybe in the universe and i can't deal with it. No I'd be relieved and accept an no fullstop but he had to#Add in the.... Idk actually lol i dont have a reference and i would like to know how it is crossing boundaries in our relationship#Whag the fuck man.... You really gave me the strongest 'i think youre into me and it worries me' and then nullify it with an 'idk how i#Feel sometimes id like to explore more' how am i supposed to... Handle that information... I had been going around telling myself#What he said to me 2019 is the way he still feels and me thinking he might think more is just me being paranoid but then yeah#What a clusterfuck. I mean to me it wont change anything in the broader picture no matter what i care for him ya know? But now thats... An#Whole other thing like. Should i try to act differently? Be more careful? Or would that be unfair bc then id do what he've been doing to me#I will quote him again 'miranda i think if both of us got an gf/bf at the same time this would solve itself' i joked and said he could find#Me one and I'll find one for him. But yeah i think that would ... Be a solution in an ideal world. Idk how to do anything man#At one hand i think he's overestimating how much he's on my mind but also its true. I spend a lot of my social time with him so obviously#I think about him? But i also have a reference on how i am... With people i have crushes on and who im in love with and how o think of thoe#Its just so scary to think about how i am his reference ... To... Well basically a ton of things... Im not a good reference unless you want#An abnormal reference. I guess im anxious I'll somehow ... Ruin him or something. This was a big conformation that i am his reference to#Women and close relationships with women and i am not made for that... Most feminine tjing about me is being sappy and giving compliments#And encouragement. Otherwise im basically like ... A dude. Guess it also scares me that he knows me. I know i know him but the fact its#Mutual is aw man... Being known is still a struggle. He wasmt completely wrong is his logic bc he knows me i think too much about people#And things. I understand im so anxious bc i care about him and im worried about losing him or pushinh him away but shit#Hes sleeping rn and is at peace with this probably. He doesn't dwell on it. He even said hes been thinking about this... Bc he began to#Think about what i could be thinking? So its not even his own thoughts but thoughts about whaf i could be thinking? ?? Whack and im likebro#Flattering that you go to that length but also... Literally what??? Cant tell if hes somehow projecting or if this is genuinely how he was#Thinking but damn. Boy does have some confidence at least? He's such an fool. I love him but holy shit he blows me away sometimes
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suguann · 8 months
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Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 
"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”
The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.
"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.
Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.
He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.
"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”
You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.
Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.
His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”
Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.
“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.
Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.
Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 
“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”
Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.
“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”
Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.
Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"
You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 
"Ah, fuck—b-but–"
Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 
"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.
Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.
He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."
The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”
Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.
Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.
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maxtermind · 6 months
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baby, would i still be your lover?
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★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 2.9k ★ : a/n :: as much as i love making the crack texts, i'm just an angst addict 😔
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Max Verstappen
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Everyone, people who weren’t even in Max’s close proximity, knew that he was impulsive and a little reckless. With you, on the contrary, Max was usually a think first, act later kind of a lover. That wasn’t to say that when arguments happened, they were a pretty sight to look at.
It was a single thing that you said which suddenly turned into a huge blown out argument, leaving your head throbbing as Max continued to vent his frustrations about unrelated issues.
"You're so hot-headed, you can't even have a normal conversation without blowing up."
"Attacking me now, are you?" Max retorted, his tone defensive.
He was quick to bite back and the ball in your throat made it scratch-y to talk. You were sure that your eyes were welling up with tears but he was too far away to see it.
"I'm just stating the truth.” You started after taking a shuddering breath. “Every time we talk, it turns into a fight because you can't control your temper."
"Well, maybe if you didn't push all my buttons, we wouldn't be here."
He was talking in the same decibel at least and for a second you had hope that everything would be better. Then his words registered and the hope vanished as well.
"I'm not the one who flies off the handle at the slightest provocation!"
You had to stop and take another breath, otherwise, you were going to start crying and this conversation was inevitably going to get left in between because Max wasn’t an asshole who was okay with his girlfriend crying just because he was angry.
"You know what? I'm sick of your constant criticism."
"And I'm sick of walking on eggshells around you!"
He took a moment to say the next thing. The silence indicating that he was thinking it over first. Max's next words hung in the air, heavy with implication.
"Fine, maybe we should just call it quits then."
The suggestion hit you like a punch to the gut. Was this really that easy for him? He just ripped your heart out and splashed it on the ground. Your chest hurt so much and he was just sitting there? Was he not at all affected by the way you looked close to crying now?
"Fine. Enjoy being single and available," you retorted, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.
Your boyfriend rolled his eyes looking over at you, indicating how he didn’t really think that you guys were breaking up. Though in your head, this was the last time you were ever going to look into his eyes again.
"You're too sensitive, always getting upset over nothing."
You were already on the edge, not having even processed that you guys almost- probably did break up over you trying to talk something out with him.
“Us breaking up is nothing to you?”
The weight of his words crashed over you, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. Max's expression softened, regret flashing in his eyes, but it was too late. The damage had been done, and the fragile bond between you felt irreparably shattered.
Lewis Hamilton
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How can one tell if they really are in a good relationship? Is it the security and sense of peace? Is it the frequent love confessions? Honestly, the explanation might differ person to person but one thing you always believed that made a relationship was being level headed even during arguments when emotions were running high
Needless to say, you were very glad you found solace in Lewis. A person who was prone to recognizing the impact of his words. Arguments between you two were rare, and when they did occur, Lewis prioritized finding solutions rather than escalating the conflict. His ability to remain level-headed during disagreements was a cornerstone of your relationship.
Everyone has those days though, when acting out of character seems more suitable than the usual. Moments when emotions override reason.
You were more worked up than usual. Your insides were burning with this desire to get answers because your boyfriend wasn’t there with you on the day you needed him the most.
You drove back home from your conference, dismayed despite it being a very successful session, given that your proposal got accepted as soon as you were done. You just wished your chocolate eyed man was sitting in the crowd looking at you with his signature proud smile.
After a shower, you sat on your couch to watch some show and just move on from the bittersweet day. It was an hour later, when your boyfriend showed up with a bouquet in his hand. Lewis walked over to you and leaned down to kiss your head.
“Congratulations, love," he greeted, oblivious to the storm brewing within you. “Saw it on the news, sorry I couldn’t join you. Got caught up with work.”
Usually, you would have avoided the argument till you felt like you could understand his side too. That was one of the things that helped you guys the most. You both waited to discuss stuff till you knew you were calm and ready to get what the other was saying.
“Aren’t you too busy with work lately?”
He gave a humorous huff in return, not catching on.
“You know how it is once the season starts.”
“You literally got home last night and you had to go in again early in the morning?”
“Missed me?”
He had a playful grin on his face and it killed you to spoil the good mood.
"Of course, after all you're more committed to your cars than you are to me."
The words left your mouth and you were too far gone to be caring about it at this point. Lewis has been such a passionate lover so this sudden shift was hurting you.
“What was that?” he responded, his tone sharp with surprise.
However, you were done and already up to call in early but his words stopped you on our track.
“Wow. You're so insecure, it's exhausting trying to boost your ego all the time."
Tears immediately welled up in your eyes but you didn’t turn around and with a deflated sigh, walked into your bedroom before locking the door while Lewis stood frozen in his place, not believing his own words.
It was like he was in a stance and all he could do was listen to you cry through the closed door on a day when you guys were supposed to be celebrating each other’s wins.
Carlos Sainz
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Carlos was the perfect man. His mature yet easy going demeanor was exactly what you needed in a partner. You hadn't been together for that long to be at the altar but just enough to know that you were going to last.
You understood the demands on Carlos's time, with his career in the spotlight of the racing world when you decided to say yes to a date with him. Carlos was left with very less time away from all the glam, media and the track. Making it precious because of how rare it was.
You mostly accompanied him and let him drag you around to wherever he wanted once he had the break. So imagine your surprise when the only time you made some pretty important plans and he refused to tag alone.
"I can’t believe you’re saying no to this," you protested, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
“I’m not saying no to anything, Carina.” He kissed your knuckles to un-knot the strong fist you’ve made of them. “I’m just suggesting we do it some other time.”
"But this is the third time, Carlos!" You stood up, unable to contain your hurt and disappointment. “Sorry if meeting my parents is such a chore for you.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth now.” Carlos responded with a sigh, attempting to pull you into a hug, which you reluctantly accepted. “It's not about it being a chore. You know I'd do anything for you, Y/N."
"I do know that, but actions speak louder than words, Carlos. My family is important to me."
“I promise that I want to meet them. I do. It's just… the timing."
"I don't want promises, Carlos. I want actions. If you can't even make it to meet my parents, what does that say about our future?" You insisted with a heavy heart, putting distance between you two.
"You're blowing this out of proportion, Y/N." Carlos countered, frustration evident in his voice.
"Out of proportion? I just wanted you to meet my family, and you can't even do that!"
“Well, I don’t have time to waste on this! If you want to go, just go alone!” His words hung in the air, a sharp pang of hurt piercing through you.
You immediately took a step back and saw him do the same. Both of you standing there as the silence stretched, contemplating in silence what exactly the next course of action was going to be.
“Y/N, I…” He trailed off as you glared at your foot, trying to hold the tears in before one eventually slipped and fell down your cheek.
“Baby, no! Don’t cry!” He panicked about extending his hand, about to touch you but you flinched away and shook your head.
“Carlos, if you think I’ll just ignore what you said ten seconds ago then you’re very wrong.” You whispered, your voice thick and husky.
Guess you were the only one from you both expecting this relationship to last. A second later, you were clutching your bag in your hand and walking towards the exit, speaking up before Carlos could beg you once again to ‘sit and talk it out.’
“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice barely a whisper. “Thanks for letting me know that our time together was time wasted for you.”
You walked out with his heart in your pocket, your own splashed on the floor of your apartment.
Charles Leclerc
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Charles was the love of your life, the very time you saw him smile at you from across the room igniting a spark in you that shaped your future together.
He walked over to you with a pretty girl hanging onto his arm, leaving the impression that they were more than friends. Everyone around you was also convinced at the time that they were dating but Charles bluntly flirting with proved just how different the real life scenario was.
Pippa was just his ‘best friend,’ someone who throws side eyes at you every time you and your boyfriend are in close proximity to her. Despite nearly a year together, her hostility persisted, the woman was a different kind of vicious. Hell bent on draining your energy.
It was physically exhausting being around her with her catty sarcastic tone that Charles always failed to notice. It was just another one of those days and Charles dismissed your concerns as usual, leaving you frustrated.
This time it was pissing you off greatly.
"Doesn't she realize we're together?" You rolled your eyes.
Charles remained silent and that drew your brows together.
“Charles, does she not think we’re serious?”
“I don't think so. She's always been oblivious to these things.”
And honestly? That fucking hurt. It hurt to know that Charles noticed this but was still rather quick to defend her every time.
"But we've been together almost a year?”
"Baby, she just never pays attention.” His arm pulled you closer to his chest. “Or maybe she doesn't want to see it."
"Do you think she has feelings for you?”
There it was, the truth out in the open. As much as it made you want to die to say it out loud and acknowledge it, your body felt lighter while the comforting arm around your waist began to feel heavier.
"I don't know. Maybe?” Charles’ chest heaved with a deep sigh, "It's complicated?"
The heart beating in your chest stopped for a long second because of how unconcerned your boyfriend seemed right now. Was he seriously just going to accept that a person he has shared so much history with wants to steal him from you?
“It’s not that simple, darling. she's been a friend for years.”
“Yeah, well, friends don't act like that. She’s just what? Waiting for the right moment to swoop in and steal you away from me?”
Charles did not like it because the arm was moved away from you in a second and he was sitting a bit straighter now. He looked furious and ready to defend his best friend and all that was running through your head was how he would probably not do the same for you in front of her.
"That's enough, Y/N. You're being paranoid."
"Paranoid? Or realistic? Face it, Charles, you're so blind when it comes to her. It makes me feel so small compared to her!"
Charles, frustrated and defensive, ran a hand through his hair and shot back,"Don't flatter yourself thinking Pippa gives a damn about you or me."
Lando Norris
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No one could deny the magnetic pull Lando had on everyone around him. It was, after all, what drew you to him in the first place. You had your biases but he broke through them all with his shameless at worst and awkward at best flirting.
However, as you stood in a quiet corner to hide from the crowd, you couldn’t find it in yourself to sympathize with Lando. He had brought you to this glamorous social event, flashes of camera and expensive drinks overflowing all around you.
You were extremely excited to accompany your boyfriend especially since he had such an amazing season but throughout the evening, Lando was constantly pulled away by enthusiastic fans and demanding media, leaving you aside feeling like an accessory rather than his partner.
Standing in a quiet corner, you couldn't help but feel a pang of envy as you watched other couples bask in each other's company. You didn’t even know where Lando was at this very second.
Then, suddenly, his arms enveloped you from behind, his lips pressing gently against your head. "I'm sorry, babe. Everyone here just wants a piece of me," he murmured, attempting to console you.
You sighed and tried to calm yourself so you wouldn't explode in front of everyone, "I understand, but I miss spending time with you."
"I promise, I'll make it up to you tonight." Lando winked, keeping the conversation light.
That was all he said before someone from your left approached him again and your safety haven spot under the stairs was crowded with journalists a second later. You rolled your eyes before walking away, with half a mind to grab a cab and leave.
It was on your way back home when your patience finally ran its course as you listened to your boyfriend go on and on about how much of a success the event was.
“Why did you even take me with you?” You interrupted, your tone tinged with hurt and watched as the smile on his face got replaced with a frown.
“What?”
“I mean… you barely clicked two pictures with me and then left me to fetch for myself? You didn’t even come stand with me for more than a minute?”
"Babe, I'm sorry, but this is part of the job."
"I get it, but it doesn't make it easier.” You felt your own body shudder because of how overwhelmed you felt. “You were there talking to everyone but me!”
Lando opened his mouth to say something but you weren’t done yet.
“They were all strangers to me and you didn’t even acknowledge this! I was standing there alone the whole time, watching others and wondering why my boyfriend wasn’t there for me!”
The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, there was silence. You stopped to take a breath and not start crying. Then, Lando spoke, his words struck like a knife to the heart.
“This isn’t… This isn’t about you. Why are you always making it about you?”
Your body froze after that and your mind went blank. You didn’t care that the tears were running out of your eyes or that apologies were falling from his mouth. His own eyes were welling up because he knew.
He knew what he said was unacceptable.
You were so zoned out that as soon as the car stopped, you got out of the car. Thankful to catch the glimpse of yellow among the traffic before you hailed a taxi, the distance between you and Lando growing with each passing moment.
He attempted to hold your arm, his own tears falling down his face. You just wanted to put your point across but with his reaction, you were certain you guys were done for.
“I guess I expected a little too much from you, Lando.”
With a heavy heart, you walked away, knowing that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures in a relationship.
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tokiiwonz · 3 months
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best friend anton thoughts
tw: jealous anton, car sex, unprotected sex (don't), exhibitionism, allusions to manipulation, infidelity xD, eunseok was punched (i'm so sorry)
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thinking about best friend!anton walking in on you touching yourself while moaning his name ♡ like damn, you just can't help yourself; you grew up together, laughed with each other, even cried with each other—you're not going to just let any other person have their way with your man, not by any chance and fortunately for you, anton thinks the same
best friend!anton who knows you have feelings for him and decided to get a girlfriend for himself just to mess with your head. he swears it's nothing romantic, and that he just wants to see you get jealous over someone else.
best friend!anton who gets mad jealous after finding out that you're in a relationship with someone in his friend group. he's known for being usually a chill laid-back type of guy but the moment the news broke out, he didn't hesitate to punch eunseok for taking what's supposed to be his.
best friend!anton who recklessly drags you to his car before roughly kissing you in the backseat. he never thought that his silly little plan would backfire at him, and to him, it's all your fault. you need to be put to your place for getting back at him.
he never hid his liking for your strawberry-flavored chapstick. one could argue that he has used more of your chapstick than you did, and he never imagined how good it would taste when he's tasting it on your lips.
best friend!anton who is a shameless manwhore. given everything that had happened, he takes his phone out before recording you both making out in his car. a documentation, at least according to him. he shows off how he makes your pretty lips bleed with the way he bites it; all swollen and needy for whatever he's about to give you, taking lots of pictures and clips of all the hickeys and bite marks he left before sending it to their group chat.
best friend!anton who has you bouncing on his lap, tearing up as you struggle to take his fat cock. god, he loves the way you cry for some dick. no ones supposed to make you cry like this but him, and as he was thinking that, he couldn't help himself but to clench his jaw and drag his cock deeper into your warmth.
you felt so full, on a high if you will, having his cock bulging your stomach with every thrust. it doesn't help you much that you could feel him drag every inch of his cock deeper and deeper. neither did having you wrapped so tightly around him helped anton—he feels so lightheaded with how tight and small you feel against him—he’s got you all stuffed up, soaked and quivering, riding him as he hits the softest spot inside you.
anton has always taken pride in his work, and your vulnerability under his control right now has only fed his already-big ego.
he's shameless on where he puts his kiss marks on; on your cheeks, neck, shoulders, anywhere he finds enticing, really. “i didn't say stop, did i? i said don't you fucking dare stop riding this fat cock. you're going to show & tell eunseok who fucks you this good.”
and before you could even give a proper response, a whimper escaped your lips as you felt anton’s harsh thrusts up into you repeatedly. he hit your prostate in many ways he could—your toes curled up as anton let everyone hear your moans.
“thaaat’s it, doll,” he groaned as he throws his head back in pleasure. “riding so good for me. go make a show, show how my pretty boy rides tonnie's cock.”
best friend!anton who likes to humiliate and make you feel small ♡. rumors has it that it's hard to deal with a mad anton due to how annoying he could be, but you think otherwise. you're very much willing to do everything to get his hands all over your body, even if it means to anger this mad man (which pretty much explains how poor eunseok was dragged into this mess)
"who told you to act like some kind of street whore, hm? i'm giving you just enough attention, aren't i? am i not enough for you to get a boyfriend? fuckass slut.”
best friend!anton who's temperamental. one moment he's splitting your hole open, the next he's making you his pillow prince (it counts, even if you're at the back of his car). he's just so obsessed with messing with your head even when he's fucking you—he wants you to be dependent on him, because you're his and his only ♡ kiss your forehead while his hands were wrapped around your neck? you got it. making you cry with his thick cock while cuddling you? you got it.
anton may seem like some kind of playboy, even a fuckboy, to other people, but he has never slept with anyone but you. his cum stained fleshlights and self clips were his testaments. he just loves you so much, ok? ♡
"got what you needed, doll face? a good dick down from me? yeah, that's it... anyway, wanna come over later?” he pecked your lips as he cummed inside you and smiled. “keep my cum inside you, alright? i’ll eat you out later when we get home.” you giggled as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before preparing to drive.
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daenysx · 2 months
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hiiii I’m not sure if you take nsfw requests but I was thinking about if modern aemond’s gf was too stressed that it was taking longer for her to finish and she fakes her climax, how aemond would react? If you don’t do nsfw just maybe something similar where she is so stressed but won’t communicate it and his reaction when she hides it from him?
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soft!aemond is back!! i mean kind of lol. i really hope you like this, i'm taking nsfw requests if you have any, thank you for requesting! <333 (title is from a lana del rey song, the pics aren't mine i got them from pinterest)
wc: 2.9k
modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, smut ♡ (also fluff, tiny tiny bit of angst?)
burning desire
aemond is in a good mood this evening.
the summer rain hits the window, you kiss your boyfriend to the sound of rain. aemond's body is a nice weight against your body. he kisses you calmly, long fingers rub the soft skin of your waist.
your head is full of things these days. you try to stop overthinking, you're unable to sleep at nights, mindlessly scrolling your phone for hours just because you can't solve any problems. there's not much to solve, not really, you only have to wait to settle down with everything that keeps your mind busy. it's not so easy, though, you're impatient, sometimes eager to doubt yourself and every little decision you made. the stress weighs down on you. you focus on aemond's lips instead.
he's been out of town for the past week. now, he's on your bed with you laying under him. he doesn't say how much he missed you but the kisses are the proof of it. he makes little sounds, doesn't stop until you are desperate for breathing. he looks at you through a hazy eye, his pretty lips swollen and pinkish.
"i missed you." you mumble. "it's hard to deal with things without you."
aemond looks at you with an unreadable expression. you think he likes what you say, he enjoys how much you want him with you. he smiles slyly, fucking attractive, he's gonna test all your patience.
he holds the back of your neck without saying anything, fingers curled in your hair to pull your head back. your entire neck is exposed, you moan when he presses his lips on your pulse point. he gives you a big kiss, the kind of kiss you could lose your mind over. he doesn't leave a mark but it's still nice. his lips draw a line on your collarbone.
"i missed you, too." he says, quietly. "pretty girl."
his fingers play with the waistband of your shorts. the sound of thunderstorm is louder when you're both quiet. aemond pushes your tank top to your breasts, he kisses your belly. you push yourself against his mouth, feeling him loving on you is so nice. he plays with you until you arch your back, you look at him with widened eyes.
"please." you say. he kisses your hipbone.
"gotta tell me what you want." he says. "you know you won't get it otherwise."
his devilish smirk makes your thighs clench. you take a deep breath, your mind feels like it's full of empty bubbles. his touch is cool against your bare skin, he rubs the back of your thighs with his huge hands.
"i'm waiting." he says, gets on his knees on bed. "tell me."
you lift your hips to show what you want. "can you take it off?" you ask. you take your tank top off without asking him. his eye shines when he sees your bare chest.
"of course." he tells you, his fingers move on your shorts. "such a nice girl."
you get more and more impatient with each second. aemond takes off his shirt, your hands touch all the way on his chest to his happy trail. his hipbones are sharp against the fabric of his pants, your breathing quickens to the image of his defined muscles. you can see the outline of his half hard cock, aemond tilts his head back and groans when you touch him through his pants.
"wait." he says. "i'm not gonna last if you keep touching me like that."
you just squeeze him gently one last time. "you didn't even take your clothes off." you say cheekily. "i wanna touch you without them." you whisper.
aemond smiles. it's a perfect smile, his lips curved because of your obvious desire. he sees how hard your nipples get with chilly air of the room, your panties getting wetter as you touch him, your eyes have the look of want and something different in them. he is quick to get rid of his clothes as you wish. you don't move until he gets back on top of you, only the thin fabric of your panties separates you from his cock.
he kisses you for a good minute. you cup his cheeks, happy to hide from the world with his long hair falling around your face. he presses himself to your center, it feels different than it used to. you don't know the reason, maybe you missed him too much, maybe your body tries to remember how his touch affects you. he's more patient than you, even though it's clear how much he needs to release.
"aemond." you mumble, wrapping your legs around his waist at the same time.
"hmm?" he sucks your jawline softly. he's so pretty, you think you'll lose your mind.
"i feel like-" you start, unable to finish any thought. your mind is too full these days. "can you please do something?"
you press yourself harder against him with the last piece of strength you could find. aemond pushes your panties aside. your cunt glints with the wetness but he still wants to prepare you. "it's okay." he reassures you. your eyes are closed, like you're trying to focus. "you just gotta be patient for me, okay?"
you nod. aemond thinks you might be the sweetest thing in his world. he pushes a finger inside you gently with his thumb on your clit. you moan silently, your body needs to relieve the tension, it keeps you awake every night. aemond moves his finger slowly, getting as many sounds from you as he can to guide himself. you part your legs for him, he settles down.
you feel like you're lost in the feelings he gives you. it's weird for a second then it's not. he pushes a second finger in, the stretch is tight but he likes it very much when you clench around him. "aemond, hmm-" you make incoherent sounds. you hold his face to kiss him as his fingers work inside you.
"do you feel good?" he asks. "is it good, baby?"
fuck, you love it so much when he calls you baby. you nod, saying yes three times. his touch is fire, you don't escape. he is hard against your leg, so hard, so bold. you moan again, your brain goes through a haze.
aemond keeps fingering you, his thumb rubs your clit with circles. the touch is nice to feel, you tilt your head back when it gets unbearable. he smiles wickedly as you keep saying his name. you look like you're lost in him.
"are you gonna come for me?" he asks with slow words against your ear. you think you will. "gonna be my nice girl and come around my fingers?"
his words feel wonderful and for a second you really believe you'll come against his hand. you try to open your eyes, aemond keeps moving his fingers quicker. you think you need to push yourself against him to make your body relax. it'll work. it always does.
but then it doesn't. your body doesn't relax, it's still too tense, too tight. you make a sound as if you're coming, aemond's eye is closed. you don't know why it happens, you feel like somethin's wrong. it's never happened before. your voice is too real to him, for a second he actually believes you orgasmed. you don't say anything.
it feels like you'll disappoint him if you say it was fake. you didn't do it on purpose and your body surprised even you, you faked an orgasm for the first time with aemond. you feel upset for a moment, his fingers get still inside you. you put your poor body on bed, quit arching your back. your mind places walls between you and your pleasure.
your boyfriend opens his eye to your tired face. he pulls his fingers, giving you a smile. he's still undeniably hard but he doesn't move, waiting for you to say something.
"what-" he begins, you reach for his hand. "are you okay?"
you think he'll be upset to find out you faked your pleasure. he definitely would understand if you tell him but you still feel tired. you feel hungry for his touch, hungry for a piece of relief. you don't know how to control your mind, how to ease off your worries and all the stress you've been carrying.
"i'm okay." you say. you squeeze his fingers.
"i don't believe it." he says, sitting on bed. "you don't look okay, did i- did i hurt you?"
you shake your head quickly. "no, of course not. i would tell you, you know it."
"then what?" he asks. he pushes his hair back. "you never look like this after you come, i'm sure of it. you should tell me if something's wrong."
you force yourself to sit next to him. your hand is still holding his. "nothing's wrong." you begin, trying to find words. "it's just-"
aemond holds your cheek in his hand. "tell me." he demands softly.
"i was sure, i was gonna finish." you say. it's the truth. "but i couldn't, not really. i mean it felt good but-"
"you didn't finish." he completes. "but you sounded like-"
"i didn't mean to fake it, i promise." you say. "i thought it would be okay, like it always is but- it didn't, but i'd never fake it with you."
aemond's face is strange, like he's embarrassed. he's thinking. is it his fault? did he fail to take care of you? did you need to fake it to finish early? he likes giving you pleasure, he likes giving what you ask of him. he knows you trust him enough to let him take care of you, and he likes it so much when you take care of him. the bond between you two is something precious, it upsets him to see you unsure and sad about it.
"i should've prepared you better." he says. "maybe you weren't ready. i was fast."
"no." you say, kissing his cheek to get closer. "it's probably because i'm too much in my head these days. it's nothing to do with you, baby, you know stress can have these kind of effects."
"what's bothering you?" aemond asks gently. "why are you so stressed?"
"i don't know." you answer honestly. "i really don't. it's too many things about the school and other stuff, and you weren't here. it's easy to get lost in problems when you're not around."
he pulls you to his lap. rain hits harder on windows. "you know- you know you can tell me anything. i'd never force you to have sex with me if you're not in the mood. if i'd known-"
"no!" you stop him. it's far from what happened and this time he gets in his head. "i wanted it so much. i still want it, aemond, i promise. i need you, i need to relax. i just don't know how to do it- how to get out of my head."
"do you still want it?" he asks, just to be sure. "do you want me to make you come?"
you nod, taking a breath to relax the tension on your shoulders. "please."
"i can talk you through it." he says, putting your body on bed under him. "if you can only focus on my voice and nothing else, i can help you relax."
"but what if i-"
"it's okay if you can't finish." he interrupts you. "don't go hard on yourself. you just gotta tell me when it does and doesn't feel good."
"okay." you say, desperate to feel his hands all over you again. it feels good to ask for his help.
"good." he says, with a deep voice. "i'll make you feel better." he promises.
your head goes back to let him kiss your neck, he kisses the same spots as he did minutes ago. you hold his hand, it doesn't take too much for him to get hard again. it's been a week since you last had sex. aemond doesn't like touching himself without you ever since you first made him come. it's addicting to feel your softness against his cock, he feels poorly when he tries to do it himself.
"i need it." you say, numbly. "please."
he holds your waist, kissing the top of your cunt softly. "trust me." he says. "don't worry."
he kisses your swollen clit. it aches with want, you want to have him so much, it hurts your head. he sucks to relieve a bit of tension. "yes." you whisper. "more, please."
he sucks for a nice minute. you part your legs, your wetness mixes with his spit. he's never been ashamed with his intentions but he feels bolder this time. pressing his cock to soft bed under him, he grunts against your cunt.
"i can't take it." you cry. "you need to do something, i feel like i'm losing my mind."
he kisses your belly. "sweetheart." he speaks softer than he ever does. "you're not losing your mind. you just need to be patient with yourself."
you feel a teardrop roll on your cheek out of pleasure. "okay." you say, pulling him back on his spot between your legs.
when he's sure you're wet enough, aemond strokes his cock. the tip of it is dark pink, so sensitive, so needy. he knows he'll feel good when he gets inside of you, he rubs himself nicely before placing himself properly against your hole.
"are you okay?" he asks against your ear. you nod, he relaxes. his back arching towards you gracefully, his cock finally getting what it wants as he pushes himself inside slowly.
you moan, tilting your head back. it's so sweet, you sound wet when he pushes a bit more. he moves his hips carefully, grunts softly when he can breathe against your chest.
"you feel so good, you know that?" he asks, almost begging. "i missed having you like this, all mine, all needy for me."
"i missed you, too." you cry out. the pleasure is blinding when he presses his fingers on your wet clit. "i missed you so much." you hug him, it's more intimate than it ever has been. rain sounds cover your little whispers, you kiss the skin beneath his ear.
"never gonna leave you again." he promises. he keeps moving, pushing himself fully inside. "never gonna leave you lost in your pretty head."
"please." you say. "please, baby, help."
you're too sweet on him, calling him baby when he's desperate to get you come. he feels himself getting closer to his peak but that's not his priority right now.
he hits your g-spot for the first time that evening and you moan loudly. he smiles, kissing your forehead. "relax." he says. "i got you."
"right there." you mumble. "so- so good."
he moves gracefully, hitting the same spot over and over again, his stamina helps him delaying his own climax. you're all spread out under him, he sucks one of your nipples when your chest gets heavy with deep breaths. he holds your hands on top of your head, fucking into you sweetly with hard motions.
"i can feel it." he says. "you're so close, right? so pretty, you should see yourself."
"close." you murmur. "i need it."
he keeps fucking you until you finally snap. your mind goes blank, it's all him. his scent overwhelmes you, surrounds you and there's nothing else. aemond targaryen is everywhere, he doesn't stop until the tightness disappears. arching your back for the last time, your wetness stains the sheets.
aemond can't keep himself any longer. "come for me." you beg. "please, come for me, i need to feel you."
who's he to deny your wishes? he comes hard, grunting, moaning your name. your thighs, your cunt, the sheets, all covered in white cum. he lets out a breath, shaken up by your cunt. "fuck." he whispers, putting his head on your chest. he's spent.
it takes a few minutes for you to get back to yourself. your fingers in his hair, his hands around you, his head on your chest. you stay like this until your mind feels like you again. you are exhausted, finally feel like you'll get a good night sleep.
"that felt pretty real to me." aemond teases when he lifts his head to see you.
"it was." you smile. "it felt so good."
aemond leaves the bed to get a clean towel from the bathroom. he comes back, cleans you up as good as he can. "help me, sweetheart." he says. "can you lift your hips?"
you do as he says, he leaves again. you feel good, your muscles spent for him, your head in that hazy space. you have a lovesick smile on your face when aemond comes back, wearing a clean pair of boxers.
"you'll get cold." he says, helping you wear one of his shirts and clean panties. "it's still raining."
"it's nice." you whisper. "can we sleep now?"
aemond kisses the side of your head. "yes. after you drink this."
he hands you a glass of water, you take three sips. aemond joins you under the covers, you wrap yourself around him instantly. he rubs your shoulder softly, you kiss his neck before burying yourself against him.
"thank you." you whisper. "for taking care of me."
"you think i could leave my girl alone when she needs me?" he says with a low voice. "i'm glad you never need to fake anything with me."
"i trust you." you say, finally falling asleep on him. three words aemond has barely heard before he met you. he thinks it's a nice weight to carry someone's trust. especially yours. you trust him with your body, with your mind. he kisses your head. your hand twitch against his waist in your sleep. he holds your hand through the night.
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beenbaanbuun · 2 months
Text
the pool w/ choi jongho
words - 3k
genre - suggestive
warnings - fem!bodied reader, bikini, internalised slut shaming (kind of but not really?), public undressing (again, kind of but not really), size kink, awkward!jongho, bff!wooyoung, lifeguard!san, massage, nipple piercings, i thing that’s it
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Wooyoung holds a smug look on his face as he drops onto the sunbed next to you. You have to admit that he looks pretty good with the sun bouncing from his wet skin, but you'd never tell him that. You'd say your friendship resembled something more akin to siblings than anything else, and why would you ever have anything nice to say about your brother?
“What’s the shit-eating grin for?” you say as you toss him the sunscreen and lean forwards; an open invitation for him to massage some into your spine. The quiet scoff he passes in your direction doesn’t go unnoticed, but you can’t comment on it before you hear the click of the cap opening and an ice cold drip of sunscreen hits your back. You wince as your friend massages it in with delicate hands, your body not quite getting used to the temperature quick enough for it not to be uncomfortable as he spreads it all over. Wooyoung only laughs, taking great pleasure in the quiet hums of dissatisfaction you make.
But it only takes about 10 seconds from his hands to pull away from your back and the click of the sunscreen bottle closing to hit your ears. You spare him a glare over your shoulder, watching as he rubs the excess from his hands onto his chest knowing full well that he can't possibly have rubbed it on correctly.
“I don't have a shit eating grin,” he lies through his teeth as he takes great care rubbing the cream into his chest—a lot more than he took with your back. You almost want to push him back in the pool to wash it all off again, but that would be petty, even for you. Instead you simply roll your eyes in dismay and shift to a more comfortable position. Your book lies on the table next to you so you grab it, open it and crack the spine. You don’t start reading quite yet, though; you can’t concentrate when wooyoung looks like he’s planning something devious.
“Yes, you do,” you argue. “Tell me what you’re doing!”
“I'm not doing anything!” he fights back, tone defensive and not at all matching the gleeful smile on his face.
“Well, then tell me what you know!”
His eyes flicker to the pool for just a moment before returning to you. Maybe he thinks you didn’t see it, but you did, and so your gaze follows his only to land on him. The same man from the pool yesterday, and the restaurant last night, and breakfast this morning. The very same man you’ve been obsessing over the last few days. You squeak in something akin to terror and immediately look back to a smirking Wooyoung. Your eyes stay firmly locked on his for one, maybe two seconds before some strange magnetic force pulls your eyes back to him.
He leans against the edge of the pool with one arm up on the side, allowing you to see the soft flesh of his arms. The skin is tan and smooth and good god if you don’t get a chance to dig your nails into it by the end of the holiday then you’ll have worn nothing but your skimpiest of bikinis for nothing. The uncomfortable wedgies and uneven tan lines will have been a waste, nothing more than a study in the art of hassle and discomfort, and that really would put a damper on what has been an otherwise enjoyable holiday.
You crane your neck further to get a glance at his face. Those plush lips that look so incredibly soft, the sparkling eyes that turn a deep honey colour when the sun shines down on them. There's something beautiful about him in the same way a bear is beautiful; intimidating and graceful yet somehow sweet at the same time. Perhaps the strange duality is just one of the reasons you can’t seem to take your mind off of him. His hair is pushed back in a way that has you drooling, and not just at the mouth. You can’t help but let your eyes linger for just a second or two before they move a little further south landing upon that mole on his neck; the one you so desperately want to press your lips to…
You’re ripped from your trance when Wooyoung snaps his fingers impatiently in front of your face. With an unsurprising degree of reluctance, you tear your gaze away from him and return it to your best friend who’s smug smile seems to have grown. You’d wipe it from his face if you could, but he’s too far away and it’s far too hot to exert the energy needed to move. You scowl at him instead, tossing up a middle finger in displeasure.
“Stop being weird, Woo, nothing is going to happen,” you say through gritted teeth because god, you desperately hope that statement isn’t true.
“You want it to, though,” he seemingly reads your mind. “You should do something about it!”
“What, like you’re doing with that lifeguard?” You point to the shirtless man across the pool who has absolutely zoned out when he should really be watching the water instead. You can only hope no one has an emergency whilst he’s busy gawping at your friend who has been endlessly peacocking–not that you can say anything–since the day you arrived at this hotel. Wooyoung sends a wink in his direction before turning his attention back to you, just in time to see you fake gag.
“See; I am doing something about the lifeguard,” he grins at you.
“A wink and a smile isn’t going to get you laid.”
“Well it’s more than you’re doing with your man,” he counters, “creepily staring at him isn’t going to get you laid either.”
With a groan you toss your face down into the soft cushion of the sun bed. Wooyoung is right as much as it pains you to admit that to yourself. You want the pool guy so bad and yet all you’ve even attempted to do to seduce him is wear tiny little bikinis that haven’t seemed to catch his attention even once. At least wooyoung has some form of communication with the man he wants to fuck, even if it is just mentally undressing each other from opposite ends of the pool. Knowing your luck, by the end of the holiday wooyoung will have bagged himself the hot lifeguard and you’ll be alone… again.
Wooyoung sighs at your dramatic performance before grabbing your coin purse from the bag. “I'm going to get you some liquid courage,” he says as he stands up, “don’t ever tell me I don’t ever do anything nice for you.”
“But that’s my purs—” he puts a finger to your lip to shush you.
“Thank you is all you have to say.”
And then he’s gone, swinging his hips with each step he takes. If you were to look over to the lifeguard you’re almost sure you’d be able to see him licking his lips with desire. Almost like you when you immediately turn your head to sneak another look at him.
Only he’s not where he was when your eyes last left him. In fact, when you give the pool a scan, he doesn’t seem to be anywhere at all. Did he leave? You question yourself as you less-than-subtly scan the pool over and over again. It would probably be the best thing for your own sake if he did and yet your heart still aches at the prospect. It's not like you were going to speak to him–you absolutely, unequivocally weren’t–too shy and anxious to put yourself up for that rejection, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t want to pine for a little while longer.
Feeling nothing but dejected ,your eyes shift across to where Wooyoung stands at the bar, top half leaning over the counter slightly, pert ass pointed in the direction of his beau. You’d call him a slut if you hadn’t been doing the exact same for the last week; putting your body on display as some sort of mating ritual in the hopes of a man fucking you halfway to oblivion. At least one of you seems to be having some success in his tiny little swim shorts that definitely show more off than they need to. It’s a good job he has a nice ass, you think to yourself just as a shadow passes over you, blocking the warmth of the sun beating down on your back. It’s just someone walking past a little too close, you tell yourself as you keep your vision on your friend, it’ll be gone in a moment or two.
Except a moment passes, and then another, and the shadow doesn’t move. You’re about to turn your head in the direction of the obstruction to see what’s so important for you to get a them-shaped tan line on your back, when you hear a voice. “Your boyfriend didn’t rub your sunscreen in too well, did he?” It’s pretty, musical and sweet just like a little songbird. Somehow that’s all you need to know exactly who it belongs to. Call it intuition or something but you know it’s him blocking the sun right now.
Your heart beats out of control for just a second before you manage to rein it in. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you respond, turning your head to gaze upon his damp body in all its glory…
Perhaps you’re no better than a man since the first things your eyes focus on are his tits. They’re soft and beautifully tan with little moles dotted here and there to match the one on his neck. You dart your eyes between them like you’re playing your own little game of join the dots. It takes you on a tour of his chest, pupils darting from one pec to the other until your eyes land on something you never expected to see.
Two metal bars…
On either side of his chest…
Right through his nipples…
Holy fuck…
Your jaw goes slack, and so, it seems, does your hand. Thankfully the sound on your book thumping against the less than dry ground is enough to break you free from the stupor his nipple piercings had put you in. Your vision shifts in an instant, settling instead on the pages of your book that more and more water seeps into with each passing second. “Shit,” you mutter, bending down and wrapping your fingertips around the now sodden paper.
“You got it?” he asks, clearly not too put off by your strange behaviour. You hum affirmatively as you lift the book and place it on the table beside your sunbed. He makes a similar sound, although his sounds more thoughtful; more like he’s trying to come up with something to say. It takes a while but eventually he seems to finally land on something, pulling in a deep breath before opening his mouth. “I could've grabbed it for you if you wanted,” he’s kind too? Well that’s horrible news for your crippling obsession with the stranger, “if you’d, you know… asked me to or something.”
You can’t help but let out a laugh at how unsure he sounds. It’s as if his words aren’t his own, dropping from his lips before he’s even had time to realise what he’s saying. There’s a grin on your face as you twist your head back around to see him, only this time your eyes focus on his face. He’s even sweeter looking up close, his wide eyes and round cheeks making him look something more akin to a little cub than an intimidating killer. Perhaps his face would kid you into thinking he’s innocent if it weren’t for the bars glinting at you just a foot further south.
“I shouldn't have to ask,” you grin, trying your hardest to sound seductive. To your own ears it sounds more like a petulant child; you can only hope that he doesn’t hear it too. “Not if you’re a gentleman, anyway.
“But what about consent?” he says as a pretty shade of peach covers his cheeks. You want to bite them, as if they’d give you the same sweet juice as the fruit they so clearly resemble. You wonder if his lips taste that sweet; you bet they do. “I didn't want to overstep.”
Your grin splits your face in two as he shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot. Upon first glance, you were half expecting him to be some suave, smooth talker. He'd say a few flirty pick up lines before taking you to his room for a one-and-done. This, though—this is much more dangerous. This is feelings territory.
“You’re not overstepping by picking my book up,” you say, “that’s simply courteous—gentlemanly, like i said!”
“Courteous,” he repeats slowly as if it’s a new word to him. there’s a ponderous look on his face that quickly morphs into a shy smirk. It seems to transform into something much more confident in the matter of a few seconds. It's almost cocky, and yet there remains to be that sweet, unsure look in his eyes. It's adorable, really. “Well,” he pauses to take stock of his next few words, “would it be courteous to offer to finish rubbing in the sunscreen your boyfriend missed?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you repeat.
“Well–”
“Just rub it in, will you?” you cut him off with an exasperated sigh. As much fun as you’re having playing this little game of cat and mouse, the need to have his hands on your back far outweighs any amusement you’re getting from his pitiful attempt at flirting. He listens, placing one hand on your calf to support himself as he perches himself on the edge of your sunbed. It inches its way up to your inner thigh, stopping just before it gets dangerously close to your core. His thumb barely brushes against the exposed crease where your ass meets your thigh as he softly grazes his fingertips over the back of your leg. They shift to the side, gracefully slipping over the thin string of your bikini bottoms that rests upon your hip. They catch against it, tugging ever so slightly on the bow that holds the flimsy garment together.
It's a promise, that much is crystal clear.
His palm is warm when it first comes into contact with your lower back, yet it still manages to send a shiver up your spine. It’s big too, covering just enough area for you to realise how small you are compared to him. You could see it in his broad shoulders and his thick arms, but feeling it is just… different. He’s barely even touched you yet there’s already a moan on the tip of your tongue. God only knows what’ll happen when his hands get a little more adventurous.
“Can I undo your top?” he approaches the question with about as much grace as a baby giraffe, clumsy yet endearing with the way he blurts it out. It’s impossible to hold in your giggle, your heart swelling with just how awkwardly adorable he is. But then his fingers tug dangerously upon the little bow at your spine and your breath suddenly hitches in your throat. You feel it loosen, but not quite enough for it to fall completely open. It’s not quite clear if he’s just clumsy or if he knows exactly what he’s doing, but either way the simple action has you shifting your slick thighs against each other. “Well?” he softly purrs, and by the tone of his voice you have to assume he's so blissfully unaware of everything he’s doing to you.
“If you think it’ll help,” your voice sounds strained but he doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t tease you about how much he’s affecting you, or do something unprovoked to force you deeper into this pit of unadulterated arousal you’ve found yourself in. Instead he just tugs open your bikini, just like he said he would, and then his hands are on you again.
The first moan you let out as he grazes his hands up and down the plane if your back can be passed off as one of enjoyment. The massage you’re receiving from the big strong hands of an unbearably handsome man is just good and the sound you let out is simply one of appreciation. No one can blame you for wanting to show how much you’re enjoying it, right? The second moan, however, is almost impossible to pass off as anything other than a plea for more. As his fingers dip down your sides, hands cupping your waist and making you feel so small and malleable beneath him, you can’t help but groan as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.
His fingers pause, hands tensing a little as the grip they have upon your waist intensifies. Although you haven’t exactly tried to hide it, you know that this is the exact moment that just how badly you need him really sinks into his adorably awkward brain. You’re not entirely sure what else he was hoping to get out of giving you the world's horniest massage, but it’s clear that he wasn’t expecting to get this far. Maybe he’s just a pervert who just wanted an opportunity to feel you up before going to furiously masterbate in the comfort of his room, or maybe he really did just want to come and talk. It doesn’t really matter either way, now; you still need his cock buried deep inside of your walls.
He leans in, grip intensifying as his torso comes to rest against your spine. The metal bars that you nearly almost forgot about feel like ice against your spine as he pushed you down into the bed with his body. Small; you feel so incredibly small, like it would take him no effort at all to pick you up and put you anywhere he deems he wants you. You hope he wants you sitting on his dick, if that really is the case.
“Do you want to come back to my room?” he whispers in your ear like a child passing a message in the middle of class. Nothing about his voice reads sexy, and yet you know if you were standing it would have your knees buckling. you nod silently, not trusting your voice to come out in a way that doesn’t make you seem pathetically desperate. He hums in appreciation. “good,” his lips connect with the side of your head, “the names Jongho, by the way. just in case you need something to moan.”
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atrwriting · 2 months
Text
rivalry — blackwood and bracken arranged marriage au
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pt. 2 my luvs
so i wasn't an aeron girly and then a few people requested him and i was like shii maybe y'all are onto something
ok full disclosure i genuinely didn't think i would be able to write for him and then suddenly i think i wrote the dirtiest thing i've ever written in my life (like ok maybe im exaggerating but fr i was quaking in my boots)
as always, warnings: enemies to loves, smut smut smutty smut smut, blowjob, p in v sex, hate fucking, he's so pretty i cried writing this, dom!aeron, swearing, bit of pre-sex violence in an ok way, anal play, rough sex, arranged marriage, heavy on the sexism, aeron is a consent king u can't convince me otherwise
don't tell me if this sucks lmao actually please tell me im a whore for validation and critiques
_____
he did not know how he found himself in this mess.
genuinely, he did not.
when aeron bracken was a man grown, he understood duty and how he needed to uphold it. he understood that duty and tradition needed to be put over his own wants and needs, for it was for the greater good for his house.
...until that greater good came in the form of two marriages between brackens and blackwoods. his younger sister would marry a blackwood, and he would marry the younger sister of his new brother in-law. he bit his tongue at the idea — aghast at how a feud that is so engrained in their bones could be thrown away with two simple marriage pacts. how could a wound so deep, so festered — be expected to heal so fast, let alone at all?
despite the fact that it left him aghast — he would not show it on his face. his face was that of stone throughout the entire ordeal; the ceremony, the feast, the dancing — all of it. he hadn’t even had a proper look at his bride — because what would it do? it wouldn’t matter. he would bed whoever it was once or twice a month, and hope for the best.
that was until the wedding night.
there was no bedding ceremony, thank the gods — but there was throwing of cups.
lots of cups.
aeron had never had so many silver and gold chalices thrown at him in his entire life — especially not by a woman.
there the pair of you were — in your nightwear, behind a locked bedroom door, and you were throwing cups at your new husband.
aeron hadn’t even stepped within ten feet of you. he had simply sauntered into the room, greeted you, and began taking of his clothes as you were already dressed for the occasion.
“will you stop it?!” he hollered, bending to avoid the goblet hitting him in the temple. “i command you to stop!”
“you think that because we are married i will obey you?” you spat, throwing anything in your line of sight to keep him from you.
“i would hope that you would refrain from pelting me with objects until i have at least done something to fucking deserve it!”
“you’re a fucking bracken!” you spat.
aeron couldn’t believe the mouth on you, his new wife — but he could believe such atrocities came from the mouth of a blackwood.
“trust me,” he spat, dodging the next object. “i would rather be anywhere else than here!”
“you think me ugly, husband?” you responded curtly. “that i am not fit to share your bedchamber?”
“not when you’re trying to maim me — no, wife!”
“or that i am beneath you?” you spat.
suddenly you were out of objects to throw at him — but that relief was clouded by his sheer realization that your bark was just as bad as your bite.
“i never said that —" he said, trying to catch his breath. “if i recall correctly — it was your brother who referred to me as craven, and then agreed to the marriage pact. your brother began with the insults —“
“but not until you —“
“wife!” aeron suddenly hollered, his fists balled at his sides as his skin began to turn pink. he was a few feet away from you, keeping his distance. when you did not flinch at his volume or tone, he kept going, “am i bedding you — or your brother, hmm?”
“i wouldn’t be surprised —“
he couldn’t take it anymore. he stomped over to where you stood. his tall height forced him to lean down so his face was only a few inches from yours.
“whether you like it or not — you’re a bracken now,” he spat. his eyes were blown wide above you — consumed with an anger that appeared to be foreign to him. as you studied him, he continued, “we can either get this over with, or we tell our families we would not perform our duties. is that what you want?”
“you think i’d scoff at duty?” you demanded. “i refuse to be any man’s triumph — let alone a maiden on my wedding night!”
the admission caught him by surprise — but the look of fear that cross your eyes threw him much more by surprise. you weren’t a maiden, but what did that matter now? he could've scoffed at your admission. just like a blackwood to make a decision they regret.
“look,” he sighed, shaking his head. “that doesn’t matter now — and it would ruin both of us if anyone knew that. it does not bother me that you’ve been with someone else, nor will i force you to be with me. however, i will not be subjected to hatred from my wife when this is the first time we’ve spoken. if you wish —“
“get on the bed,” you spoke, sighing.
his brow furrowed in confusion.
“get on the bed,” you repeated.
he looked over you once before he pulled his shirt above his head, discarding it. as he turned, he began to unlace his pants — but he did not take them off. he let them hang loose on his hips before he laid down on the bed.
he returned his eyes to you as soon as he had laid down. when he set his eyes upon you, he realized you were bare. bare in all of your glory. he had never seen a woman so perfect in all of his life. skin as soft silk bed sheets, hair cascading down your back like that of the most coveted mare, and a figure that even the king himself would ask your hand in marriage for.
but he did not say that. any of that. his eyes were trained on you in the way any man would be on a woman as beautiful as you. and when his mouth parted slightly, his lips falling open in awe — you knew you had him and that no words would’ve been as good as the look on his face.
you fought the urge to smirk, but that did not stop you from walking towards him. you straddled his hips, letting your cunt fall right on top of where his pants hid his bulge.
“i prefer to be on top, husband,” you spoke.
he raised his eyebrows, silently conveying that he was impressed. “you’ll find no quarrel from me, wife.”
aeron bracken wouldn’t say that he was inexperienced, but he definitely did not have the confidence his lady wife had. he also never thought he would like a woman taking control… but the prospect of hurting a woman made him so nervous. he never saw he would actually see the day — him, a bracken, afraid to hurt a blackwood.
“but i must ask you one thing,” he spoke, refusing to touch her just yet. “this is of your own volition? — because i don’t want to do this if you do not wish it.”
you quirked an eyebrow at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a loose embrace. “what of duty?”
“if duty comes in the form of forcing your wife in the bedroom — ” he spoke softly, and then continued, “i want no part in it.”
you couldn’t believe your ears. you didn’t think he would be aggressive or ruthless, but you never thought aeron bracken would want your consent — of all things! you didn’t think any man would ever understand the concept — and yet here was your husband, sitting below you and not touching you until he had your consent.
a small pool of wetness collected between your folds, and then slipped onto the laces of his pants. you didn’t think he’d notice — but you did.
he was looking at you intently — studying your face, but also waiting for your reply. you couldn’t help but give a knowing smile.
“are you pleased with the wife you received, husband?” you asked, gesturing to your naked body.
“i consider myself very lucky, wife,” he spoke, a slight smile coming to his lips. “but no one had ever conveyed to me how pretty of a face my wife had.”
“did they convey how poor my attitude is?”
“i already knew that, my lady.”
you swatted him lightly and playfully — both of you smiling.
“i want to do this with you,” you spoke, taking his hand and putting it on one of your breasts. “do you want this to be with me, husband?”
his hands were greedy with what he had been granted access to. his large hand grasped at your breast before he rolled your nipple in between his index and thumb finger. your hips jerked forward then at the sensitivity while your mouth parted slightly. aeron couldn’t help but watch as a blush rose to your cheeks, and he realized then that he wanted this very much.
“very much, wife,” he spoke, suddenly realizing he should at least try not to sound too eager.
he’d never know, but you didn’t mind his eagerness. you took it for candor, and that you appreciated.
you grabbed his other hand, and place it on your other breast. you witnessed his gaze flicker between your breasts and your face, almost like a silent question. when you bit your lip and smiled, aeron bracken did not waste any time.
his perfect lips wrapped around your nipple, which looked too good to aeron not to get a taste. his teeth had found the bud, lightly grazing it as he sucked at it. with his other arm, he wrapped it around your back with a focus on your waist. he began to thrust his hips slightly upward as he pushed and pulled you forward and backward onto his bulge.
“tell me what you like,” aeron ordered, still pinching your nipple.
you gasped at the feeling — surprised at aeron’s confident nature. you ground your cunt down harder onto his bulge, enjoying the friction from the laces of his pants. you grew worried at the prospect of soaking his pants, wondering how he would react.
“i want your cock inside me,” you mused. “and in my mouth.”
he moaned against your breast, the vibrations sending ripples throughout your entire body. he replied, “more, wife.”
you laughed, threading your fingers through his hair. “i like to be taken from behind — and i want your arm around my neck. i like it rough, husband."
for a mere instant, he thought about how other men would respond to her admission and use of coarse language. within that same moment, the thought vanquished from his mind. he realized how lucky he was to have a wife seemingly as experienced as you — for what trouble would there be now? you would tell him if he was hurting you, and you would be able to tell him what you like.
“and what do you like, husband?” you asked, running a few fingers up and down his upper arm.
he moved his hands down to your knees, running his large palms up and down your thighs. you watched his shoulder and bicep muscles tense and release as his arms extended and retracted, rubbing your soft skin. “i want to make you finish on my cock.”
you raised your eye brows at him as you blushed, laughing. “is that so, husband? i was led to believe that brackens were selfish — but now i see they're just ambitious."
you watched him as he appeared to turn over words in his head, contemplating what to say. you realized then how different aeron already was from what your family was like, and what your family believed him to be like. “can i ask you for something?”
“what, husband?”
“just allow me one night.”
you quirked an eyebrow at him. “what… do you mean?”
“allow me one night to prove that i am not what your family believes me to be.”
“my family?” you asked, stunned.
“nor you, wife,” aeron stated with a knowing grin. “just one night — for me to prove that this does not have to be a union consumed by hatred.”
you did not answer. you simply leaned down, and connected your lips with his. with both hands cupping the sides of his face, you kissed him with only sweetness and curiosity. aeron was so… different than you had ever thought he would be. he intrigued you. he honestly did. maybe it was the feud, maybe it was something else… because it didn’t matter. all you wanted to know what was the extent of his sweetness.
when he had finally discarded his pants, you marveled at his cock. it was bigger than you had ever seen, and your eyes told that. aeron smiled when he saw your surprised reaction, and couldn’t help but feel more confident at the prospect of an experienced woman being pleased with what he could offer.
you couldn’t help yourself — you immediately took him into your mouth.
aeron had received blowjobs before, sure — but not like this. oh… definitely not like this. with your hollowed out cheeks, you took him deep into your mouth and down your throat. the warmth from your mouth made him shiver, but not before his muscles tensed at the same time his mind relaxed. he had never known bliss like this. how could his pretty wife ever think he would scorn her for her experience, especially when he benefitted from it so sweetly? few hairs fell down to cover your face as you sucked on his cock, and he couldn’t help but think about how fucking lucky he was.
so lucky. so fucking lucky.
that was until you pulled off.
“does etiquette escape you, husband?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.
he raised an eyebrow. “no — but your meaning does. why have you stopped?”
“because you should be holding my hair out of my face!” you snapped, eyeing him.
you didn’t let him respond. you took him back into your mouth before one of his hands picked up all of your hair and piled it on the back of your head — away, and out of your face.
good, you thought. he can take directions.
that was until you felt him begin to push down on the back of your head, causing the tip of his cock to nudge further and further down your throat. you wanted to scold him — reminding him you’re the one in charge when his cock is down your throat — but you didn’t. you didn’t because when you snapped your eyes up and saw the look on your husband’s face, you would’ve gasped if you could.
his cheeks were tinted a light pink as his eyes had drifted closed. with his mouth slightly parted, falling open in pleasure, he fought back the urge to let small moans escape his throat. with his adam’s apple bobbing — all you wanted to do was keep him teetering on the edge of not enough of and the perfect amount of pleasure.
you should’ve scolded him for pushing down on your head without asking, but you realized suddenly that it ate at your womb like the hunger for his big member inside of you. your realization occurred at the same time aeron noticed you watching him.
he smiled.
wickedly.
“are you enjoying yourself, wife?” he asked, holding your head up so you were only sucking the tip.
you narrowed your eyes at him, unwilling to give him what he wanted.
he threw his head back in laughter. you went to tell him off, but he pushed your head down again. you gagged around him, fighting the urge to cough and cry. you were growing irritated with his actions — wondering where in the seven hells he got the fucking nerve.
he noticed your anger the instant your brow began to knit together.
“you’re so pretty, wife —“ he spoke, relishing in the pleasure you granted him with a wicked smile on his face. “but you are so much prettier when your cock is down my throat and that attitude escapes you.”
he pushed your head down again, causing you to gag and a tear spring to your eye. you wanted to tell him off — but when the warmth in your womb curled with the anger in your chest, you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. you couldn’t bring yourself to scold him, because what if he stopped? what if he stopped the delicious, bittersweet feeling that he was giving you without even touching you?
“i can see it by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together,” he spoke, eyes on the backs of your legs. “can’t help it, i see. all that blackwood attitude, 's too much for you, isn't it? — all you needed was for a bracken to put you in your place.”
he wasn’t choking you, no — but the surprise attacks on the back of your head and into your throat threw you for loops. you didn’t like to be out of control, and didn’t think you ever would — but you couldn’t deny the slick that had fell from your folds and was now collecting between your thighs. you grew insecure at the thought — that if the flames from the fire or the lanterns caught the shadows just right, aeron would see your slick glisten in the light. the realization was embarrassing and exhilarating all at the same time — but you couldn’t deny you wanted more.
“that’s it, wife,” he cooed condescendingly above you. “take that bracken cock down your pathetic fucking throat.”
you did. oh gods, you did. your throat was hoarse with the bittersweet attack on its inside. you were fighting back coughs and gasps, wanting to wipe away every bit of saliva from around your mouth but you couldn’t. you were stroking the bottom of his cock and bracing yourself with your other hand — working him as fast and as hard as he wanted you to.
and then he pulled you off when you reached the tip of his cock.
you were hazy — lost in lust. he pulled you off of his cock with your mouth still open, saliva beginning to run down your chin. you were gasping for air once aeron let go of your hair, only to replace his hand around your throat.
you immediately grabbed his wrist — you weren’t sure why. to brace yourself, maybe — but that was all you could do as aeron held you before him with your back arched towards him while he sat upright.
you weren’t sure what you looked like — probably a mess; spit, tears, and messy hair. but aeron? fuck, aeron — he was himself. completely himself. confidence and pleasure and arrogance formed to make a look of power on aeron, and you couldn’t help but want him more. the pink hue of his cheeks and lips did not suggest innocence, no — but exertion of a man’s power. at that moment, all you wanted was your bracken husband inside you.
“you hate that you liked that, don’t you?” he asked, a small wicked grin playing at his lips.
you couldn’t answer. you could only gasp for air in response, throat still dry from his cock.
“cock keeps you quiet, wife?” he laughed then.
your eyes narrowed at him, even through your tears. that set you off.
“well, when you shove your craven cock down my throat —“
he chuckled then, and you were too weak to protest. “craven cock, that right?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “well, maybe i should let my reputation precede me — i guess i don’t care about fucking my wife the way she needs me to.”
“i don’t need you to,” you spat, lying through your teeth.
“you don’t?”
he held you upright then, leaving you on your knees with your back arched. he towered over you on your own knees as you felt a hand of his slip down your abdomen, and in between your thighs.
he laughed once more. “you don’t?”
you went to hit him, but he caught your hand. your cheeks were beginning to sting with want, need, and embarrassment. when his fingers began to rub circles on your clit, the fucking center of the ache — you almost doubled over onto him, hoping to catch yourself on his chest. you fought against his fingers, forcing yourself not to show any sign of enjoyment.
he chuckled darkly. “i’m going to have to fuck that blackwood attitude out of you, aren’t i?”
“as if you could,” you replied, glaring.
he raised his eyebrows at you then — a dare. you were feeling weak, and definitely weren’t able to match him — but you couldn’t let that show.
“i was going to be nice and let my pretty wife ride me,” he ordered, sighing. "get on your stomach."
he let go of your throat with a slight push on the release. your muscles were wound so tight that the abrupt action caused you to lose your balance, and fall. with a huff, you rolled over onto your stomach.
aeron couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes. the flames and the moonlight from the window caused shadows to ripple across your perfect hourglass shape and ass. aeron pushed your soft, long hair off of your back and onto the bed so that his fingers could trace the length of your spine from your neck to your tailbone.
you shivered at the feeling. you were about to scoff at him when he smacked your ass.
“bracken!” you spat. “how dare —“
he chuckled before he pulled you up the hips. you caught yourself on your knees and hands, trying to keep your balance. a blush rose to your cheeks as you realized you were… completely exposed to your husband. you felt his hand come up to the fleshy part of your ass, kneading the thick skin. you froze.
“my perfect wife…” he mused, massaging your skin.
you wriggled in his hold, and he held you still — spreading your cheeks. you gasped at the further exposure — every private area of your body now visible.
“husband…” you spoke.
his tone mocked you. “you’re still soaking, my lady — do you really want your lord husband to stop?”
“piss off — !”
he smacked your ass again, causing you to yelp.
“can’t expect better from a blackwood…” he sighed. he spat on the puckered hole of your ass, and you froze. he let the spit drop from your ass to your cunt, mixing with the juices collecting on your folds. “are you going to lose your mouth?”
“i swear —“
you felt his finger circle your puckered hole, and before you could protest — he slipped his thumb into you.
you gasped, leaning forward. his laugh vibrated through him, and you felt it against the backs of your thighs. it was only his thumb — but you had never been touched in such a way. you had never had anyone, nor anyone breach such a private area of yours. you felt it bury itself to the last knuckle, all of your muscles tightening around it. you should’ve felt violated, dirty, something of the sort… but you didn’t. all you could register was how empty your cunt felt in comparison.
“have you ever been touched here before?”
you didn’t answer, still speechless.
he smacked your ass once more. “you will answer when your lord husband speaks to you.”
“no, husband…” you whispered. “please, husband… i want your cock…”
“…i could give you my cock, couldn’t i?” he spoke, slipping his thumb in and out of you gently. a sharp intake of break was involuntary from your throat. “i could, but what would that teach you? my greedy blackwood wife would continue to think so little of her bracken husband.”
“don’t make me beg,” you whined. “i want you so bad, please…”
you couldn’t see it — but you could imagine the smirk on his face at your words. he slipped a finger inside your soaking cunt and aching clit, and couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the feeling. your cunt clamped down around his finger like you had never had someone inside you before, needing him so desperately. his circles on your clit were agonizingly slow, and soon the relief from his minuscule touch was turning into desperation.
he realized this at the same moment you did.
“who knew my lady wife could be such a whore for her husband,” he spoke lowly. your hips began to rock against his hand, wanting and needing more. so much more. “do you wish me to stop? tell me.”
“no —“ you cried. “you can’t stop, i’ll… i’ll…”
your body felt like it had pins and needles everywhere. you had been pushed and pulled toward an orgasm, over and over, but never fully brought to the peak. you were warm, cold, hot, freezing — all at once and it smashed your resolve to pieces. you were a pathetic, drooling, sopping mess that needed her husband to quell this ache; to put it to rest so that you may rest.
he ripped his hands from you, and you sobbed. you actually sobbed. you bent your hips back to meet his, but met nothing. you bit back a sigh of frustration as tears threatened to overflow from your eyes.
“seven hells…” you sighed, shoving your face into the bed cover.
then, you felt your hips being pushed down as your knees flattened. you went to turn around to question it, but then you felt your husband spread your thighs. the cool air hit your cunt like lightening and you whimpered at the feeling. you felt an arm snake around your throat as a weight settled on top of you.
you felt aeron’s lips press against your jaw — pushing your head to the side as his touch calmed you. you let your head be supported by his strong arm, whimpering when you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance.
“maybe brackens are mean…” he whispered against your ear. “an honorable husband would right that mistake, wouldn’t he?”
he didn’t wait for you to respond. he thrusted his cock into your wet cunt. once his cock filled you, a gasp left your lips on reflex. you could feel a groan rumbling in his chest as he bit down on your neck. your husband had complete control over your body, and you gave in to his thrusts as his hips snapped against yours.
“that’s what you needed,” he stated with a wicked grin against your cheek. “cunt so warm and wet — just wanted to be fucked so bad.”
“you fucking bastard —" you cried. “it feels so good —"
with a groan, he spoke, "i know it does — didn't i promise i'd make the ache go away?"
your cunt sucked him in — refusing to let him go as he thrusted inside of you. he slid his hand underneath your stomach and let his fingers find your clit and roughly rub shapes on it. you reflexively bit down on his forearm, crying into his skin. your hips wanted to move with him, or against him, fucking anything — you weren't really sure, as they had a mind of their own. the pleasure was too much — and way too much for your mind. aeron was fucking you dumb into the bed without anywhere to go.
you felt his lips by your ear, "that's it. take it for me. ungrateful cunt — can't get enough of craven bracken cock."
nothing that left your lips was coherent. you were gasping onto his forearm for dear life as his sword hand drew the greatest weapon of all — forcing the sobbing, strong woman to become clay in his fucking hands. with his own hips and arm, he held your hips down as they tried to fight against them. try they did, but they were no match for a man like aeron bracken.
"tell me you can't get enough wife — " he grit against your ear. "tell me you can't get enough of craven bracken cock."
"don't make me — "
he stilled not only his hips, but his hand.
he held your still with his forearm, locking you in place. you fought against him, trying to buck your hips back against his cock for anything you could get. with malice, he replied, "i could use my hand and hold you down on this bed as i finish all over your back. would you prefer that, wife? spilling over you like a common whore? or will you listen?"
"fucking —" you spat, consumed by frustration. "aeron, please —"
"are those words too dirty for you, my lady?" he asked condescendingly, softly and slowly moving his finger against your clit. not enough to satisfy you — but definitely enough to frustrate you further. "you want me to fuck you like other lords fuck their new wives? slow, and shallow? maybe three thrusts before they fall asleep? barely caring if their wife feels good?"
"no..." you whimpered.
"then say it."
"please, husband..." your mind going numb with frustration. "please — i need your craven bracken cock."
"that's is, love," he spoke, sheathing his long cock inside you once more. "that's all i needed. such a good little wife for me."
his fingers immediately continued their assault on your clit, and you gasped at the feeling. you could feel and hear aeron's laugh behind you as your hips jerked once, twice, thrice before you let out a cry. it filled the room and would fill the ears of anyone walking by your room. you dug your nails into his forearm as he pulled you closer against him, closer, closer, closer — kissing your forehead as you came. you came, and you came, and you came. there was nothing like it. there was nothing left of you. you had never experienced an orgasm that was so fucking earth shattering. it pushed and pulled you like nothing ever before. with each aftershock, aeron sucked on your neck and hummed at the taste. he wanted to swallow you whole, and leave nothing left for you. you were clay — barely crumbs in his hand, but only his to mold.
when you went limp, aeron let out a hearty, earthy grunt. he pushed you down onto the mattress as you lay flat on your stomach. on his knees and between your thighs, he grasped the flesh of your ass in both hands and fucked your cunt straight into that perfect spot that you had only found once or twice in your life. he was like an animal behind you; predator and prey, with the carnal need to breed you dumb. when aeron delivered his final thrust, his hips snapped against you and you could feel him against your cervix. it hurt in the most delicious way possible — almost like you could feel your hips, cervix, womb, fucking everything open for him and swallow him whole.
he collapsed next to you before he pulled you into his arms. he placed a single kiss on your forehead, long and hard and you sighed, content.
"did i prove myself to you?" he whispered as the flames from the fire begin to die down, cloaking you both in darkness.
you scoffed, nuzzling further into him as you kissed the skin of his chest.
"no need to admit it, wife," he laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "i already accomplished tonight's ambition."
you swatted him — and he laughed, not fearing you in the slightest.
____
lmk what u think ;)))) -L
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savanir · 3 months
Text
DP x DC ficlet
is it even a ficlet anymore, this thing has gotten incredibly out of hand...
So a while back I saw this
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and I picked the Green Lantern one and then just kinda wrote a full fic so...
It had been a good party, official yes but despite that still festive enough and with just a bittersweet hint. as all good meaningful parties should be like, unless you’re looking to get absolutely shitfaced.
But hey Rowan deserved a proper sendoff for making it to this point and not dying in the process. Hal is going to miss the old pilot though.
"Hal, I got something for you, before I forget"
"Hm, what is it"
The old man puts a small intricate glass model of a f16 fighter in his hand.
"Back when I started I was given this for good luck and protection"
Rowan presses it down firmly and stands there all official like "may it grant you both as it did for me"
They both stand there for a second before laughing.
“Feel free to shelf the whole luck thing, what’s really important is skill and experience. Still, knowing you, you can definitely use the protection ”
Hal grins, "Thanks, I'll keep close"
"You better, the sentimental value is sky high" Rowan slaps his shoulder with another laugh.
Good lord what a dork.
The old retiring pilot wasn't paying attention, too caught up in everything else but Hal saw the faint and brief green hue coming from his hand.
In a panic he slammed his other hand over top. Completely missing the quietly whispered "protect"
Too busy cussing out his ring in his head, he swears that thing is trying to out him on purpose sometimes.
This time it wasn't the ring though, so it's a good thing it's an inanimate object and can't be upset at how wrong Hal is being right now.
"Everything alright?"
"Yeah! Let's get back to the others"
The evening ends uneventfully.
---
It's really only until quite a bit later that things start to happen.
"Green lantern" its batman's business voice.
Both Hal and John look up.
"Jordan" ah shit.
"I'll catch you up later" and he leaves Hal behind, traitor.
"What's up spooky"
"You need to update your file, it is missing critical information, and on that note I wasn’t aware that the lantern suits grant you intangibility now"
"I... what..? It doesn't? What are you talking about spooks"
"Hrn" Batman pulls up a screen and shows him footage of the latest fight, in it you can clearly see something was supposed to hit Hal but went right through him "You're telling me you didn't know or notice this?"
Hal just looks kinda sick. That would have been a bad hit and he just straight up didn't even notice.
Batman just kind of silently looks at him and he must have come to some conclusion because the next thing Hal knows this comes out of his mouth.
"I've already ran your blood through the lab, it's not a sudden emergence of a meta gene so it's either from the lantern corps or you've otherwise externally been affected by something that's causing this"
Hal closes his eyes and internally counts to ten, it doesn't help.
Batman takes his silence to mean he can keep talking. The man is on an unusual roll. Hal would have been ecstatic if he didn't hate the topic quite so much.
"It would have been best if it had something to do with your ring however you seem to be completely unaware and I've also noted that the green of your ring and the green glow that comes with the density shifting are different"
He has examples with corresponding color codes, Hal is so tired.
“let's set a time frame…” Batman pulls up some documents and graph on the screen “seeing as you are unaware of this development I will set the starting point of this potential change as of now to right after the last time you have been known to be hit in a fight and before the first known instance of you being able to density shift, that leaves us with a full month.”
Hal really, really does not want to be here anymore.
“In this month you have not gone off planet so whatever caused this is on Earth” Batman pauses for a moment, “has anything significant happened during that time that springs to mind now?”
“no, nothing significant has happened during that time, frankly it’s been a very pleasant uneventful four weeks in which I finally managed to catch a break and it figures something crazy has apparently happened anyway”
Hal rubs his face with both hands, “but right now I couldn’t tell you what, anyway, does this have to be a bad thing? I for one am very glad that hit didn’t actually land”
“So far only Superman has had the privilege of having sudden emergence of new powers work out for him” Batman huffs, “it would be best to monitor this carefully, if anything springs to mind do not hesitate to inform me, the sooner this is figured out the better”
“awww you do care” Hal is using humor cope, sadly it’s Batman, so it’s not very effective.
“Jordan” now Batman sounds tired, he’s not the one with random surprise density shifting, Hal understand that Spooky’s crippling chronic paranoia must be exhausting but right now he’s the one freaking out considering this is apparently not a meta gene related development, it would have been so much easier if it was, oh and about that, just how and when did Batman get his blood exactly? he would like to know now.
---
sadly he does not get to know now. or anytime soon (or ever). it’s chaos right after, because of course it is.
knocked out of the sky and lying amongst the rubble, if their enemy spots him he’s in bigger shit than he already is, but he can’t fucking move and the next thing he knows he’s invisible.
and there is just nothing enjoyable about it.
Barry doesn’t know that though, “that was something else, just one moment and schwup and you were just gone, some sort of green lantern light bending? he looked right through you, thank god he did too” 
shit shit, “no that was..." it was like he just ceased to exist, movies and books and whatever other media always depicts it as such a cool thing but frankly it was terrifying. And he would prefer things that are terrifying not to happen to him, for obvious reasons, “honestly actually it’s complicated, stealth tech” Grade A bullshit.
“well it’s awesome”
“it was useful just now but not really my style you know” 
Barry slings his arm over Hal’s shoulder and gives him a one armed hug, “everything worked out” Hal can feel some tension flow out of his friend, “well! better get busy cleaning this mess up” and with a blink he’s gone.
Hal does not want to talk about this with Batman, but knowing him, he probably already knows anyway, it would be less of a headache to go to him than have him go to Hal. 
Hal wants to enjoy whatever this is, he really does, but he doesn’t know what caused this, he doesn’t know what triggers the new abilities or whatever they are, he doesn’t know what effects this shit is going to have in the future, he just doesn’t know anything, normally he doesn’t mind not knowing some things, he’s fine leaving the knowing to the people better suited for the more complicated knowing, but he would very much like to know more about this please.
---
Then they face off against an enemy and in the process Hal drains his ring completely and the next hit is going to be bad, so what will happen? Will he somehow go intangible again? Turn invisible and use the confusion to evade and attack?
No
Apparently this time he just gets a glowing green dome shield. Something very normal for him to have and use, if only it came out of his ring that is.
Nobody notices that something is wrong, nobody besides Batman that is.
"That's three new abilities that only appear during life threatening situations"
Hal has actually seriously gone over that month by now, but nothing, no answers. He's physically fine, mentally a little damaged but nothing new there, they all are. Every test he begrudgingly went through answered nothing. He was fine. Whatever was going on actually had nothing to do with him.
And at the same time it had everything to do with him because this is only happening to him.
As usual (by now) he takes out his little glass fighter jet and runs his thumb over the wings. It is soothing strangely enough. Like a stim toy.
"The last thing to try is a thorough examination by someone from the justice league dark"
Hal groans, magic, ok then, "Alright let's get this over with. Who knows maybe I'm just haunted"
It turns out he’s not haunted, this is a good thing... supposedly, Well let’s just say that Hal would have not minded being haunted or something if that meant it could be fixed, or just explained.
It doesn’t really need to be fixed, whatever this is has been very helpful after all, but he would do basically anything for an explanation right about now.
“you are not haunted or otherwise magically compromised, but I do sense faint traces of energy from the infinite realms” Zatanna is a godsent, finally something to work with.
“from the who whats?” Hal is worried, the occult field is definitely not his area of expertise. He's a space cop, not a space demonhunter… oh that would be pretty cool though, with like a hood and twin cyber crossbows, maybe he should incorporate that somehow.
“the infinite realms… have you recently been in touch with any death related realities?”
Well there was that time when he got booted to the death universe and he died and then he was a black lantern but he got better, that’s all very much very behind him.
She better not be about to tell him that stuff still has lingering consequences.
oh god dammit that’s exactly what is going on isn’t it?
"How recently?"
"In the past week?"
"Oh, no" Hal would have known if that was the case, death stuff tends to be hard to ignore.
Zatanna frowns, that's probably not a good sign.
"But you said I'm not compromised right?" Right now what Hal wants to know the most is if this is changing him. Cause it tends to be bad for him when that's the case.
"No this is just lingering traces of something or someone else using their powers near you"
???!!??!?
"What are the infinite realms?" oh hey there Batman, was wondering when you would show up again.
"It's the afterlife, or... more like a collection of all afterlives. The infinite realms is very literal in their naming. It is home to powerful dead entities. As a general rule magic users are discouraged from interacting with it.
"Hrn"
"What did you say happened to you so far Hal?"
"Uhm, density shifting, invisibility and then a green dome-like shield, a lot like my own energy constructs"
"that sounds like pretty standard stuff for a realms being"
"Soooo what, did one leave the afterlife and decide to follow me around or something?"
"I cannot conclusively say, I can only say that you've been close to one using its abilities"
Batman folds his arms over his chest, "We shouldn’t form theories on these findings alone, Zatanna are these realm beings dangerous?"
"Hard to say, they come in all manner of forms, some small and harmless and others on the level of world destroying gods."
Great great great, awesome, well it’s probably safe to say that whatever decided to stick around Hal isn’t small and harmless, cause small and harmless doesn’t sound strong enough to casually turn him intangible or invisible… he could be wrong though.
“I do advise caution, beings from the infinite realms also have the ability to possess someone, they call it overshadowing”
Batman’s lips thin and Hal tenses up, mind control of any kind is always awful.
“I’ll place a ward on you, as a precaution” energy starts to gather in her hands.
Batman moves for the door, “we might need to look into a way to force this being to reveal itself, it would be best if we could convince it to return to their realm”
“Well I mean-” Hal starts, “like I get that, but they have been a great help so far” 
“they are a security risk”
“I’m just saying, I am grateful that they kept me from being confined to the medical wing for who even knows how long, who knows they might just be shy, wouldn’t it be better to convince them to become our ally, like Deadman. instead of telling them to leave. just cause we don’t understand how they work yet doesn’t mean they are bad and should be booted out of our reality”
Batman narrows his eyes at Hal and turns to Zatanna who is finished with placing the ward on Hal, “Zatanna please send me all you have on the infinite realms, I will do my own research” and with that he sweeps out of the room, very dramatic.
“Ass” Hal whispers under his breath.
“He’s worried”
“well he’s being a dick about it, as usual” Hal’s fingers find his little plane once again “... hey do you think they could communicate through one of those oejah boards?”
Zatanna snorts, “it’s Ouija- and please don’t”
---
No information from the JLD has been useful so far in coaxing the realms being to reveal themselves and for the most part things just go on as usual.
“Whoever they are, they followed me when I went off planet and it might just be my imagination but I had a feeling that their stuff was a lot more… potent? out there? I don’t know it was kinda strange, it just felt stronger”
“but they didn’t reveal themselves to you?”
“nope, they must know that I know now too, so they have decided to just… go on as they always have I guess”
“hrn” Batman is leafing through files, because of this whole mess he’s uncovered hidden government organizations targeting occult entities as well as inhumane laws that stand directly opposed to the meta protection acts.
Why is he working with paper regarding this matter? Well it turns out there is a infinite realms being that can possess electronica and it was only because of the protections the JLD had put in place on the Watchtower that the entity didn’t overtake it in its entirety.
Watching Constantine freak out had been mildly entertaining but Zatanna had once again reminded Batman to be very careful, Batman had begrudgingly admitted he had made a slight misstep while digging for answers… in his head, not out loud, god forbid.
“this whole thing is turning out a lot bigger than we thought huh, good thing we are dealing with it now” Hal stretches his arms above his head, “anyway I am going to go grab something to eat”
“the rapport-” Batman doesn’t bother looking at him.
“yeah yeah” Hal doesn’t either while walking out of the room, dismissively flicking his hand, “don’t worry about it spooky”
Hal takes his little plane out on the way to the cafeteria and fiddles with it in his hand, once there he puts it on the table next to Barry before getting himself something to eat.
They catch up, Hal complains (bitches) about Batman, others come and go, Zatanna quickly checks up on the ward she placed which makes Barry raise an eyebrow at Hal, “Ghost protection”
“... no such thing”
Zatanna glares.
Hal can see them both gearing up to start the magic is just science we haven’t fully scienced out yet argument again, “alright! I’m full” he stands up, “if you need me I’ll be writing that rapport, later” and gets the hell out of there.
It’s when he has just reached his preferred spot to work on the boring paperwork stuff when the alarms go off throughout what he can only imagine must probably be the entire Watchtower.
It seems like something triggered all of the JLD’s defenses in one go.
Impressive, but also very worrying.
The rapport is going to have to wait.
People are gathering in the meeting room and Batman is already taking the lead, “status”
“as of a couple minutes ago there was a build up of as of yet unknown energy which then burst in the cafeteria knocking out Flash” Martian Manhunter says, “Zatanna says we are most likely dealing with another being from the infinite realms”
Superman groans, this means he’s out.
It’s a good thing they now have defenses against overshadowing though. Being effectively trapped in a space station (because currently the thing is on lockdown) where literally anyone could suddenly actually be the enemy is the kind of situation a whole slew of horror movies like to be about.
“We will need to be extremely careful while finding and then dealing with this entity”
It has certainly been quite some time since the Watchtower got directly hit like this.
Hal pulls out his little plane.
or, he would, if he still had it.
thoroughly distracted now he suddenly realizes it’s no longer on his person.
Spooky is probably not going to like it if during the infinite realms attacker hunt he takes the opportunity to look around for his missing little fighter jet.
well what he doesn’t know won’t harm him.
His plan of looking for the plane while looking for the ghost is working out well enough.
In fact it is working out so good that he finds both at the same time.
At that point Hal had started wondering if maybe Barry had picked it up for him at the cafeteria before the attack happened and that the little thing was now in the medical wing with him. 
That turned out to clearly not be the case once he found the tiny thing glowing green and floating in the middle of the hallway.
“alright ghosty, that’s really important to me and I would like it back undamaged”
the tiny plane turned to now point directly at him, hmm, yeah that's not creepy at all.
 “... please don’t launch yourself at me” he foolishly says which of course means that’s exactly what it does next.
He uses his ring to construct a net with a pillow inside to catch the tiny jet, completely forgetting that it’s overshadowed and can thus easily just go intangible and right through his creations.
Instead it hits him square in the chest, rather painfully he might add and then just stops glowing and drops, making Hal scramble to not have it fall and shatter in a million tiny pieces on the ground.
immediately all the sensors stop detecting the presence of a realms being and the alarms die down.
Whatever was in the Watchtower has left the building.
or…
Hal looks down at the tiny plane in his hands, his talisman of protection and has a sinking feeling in his gut.
“Hey there little guy, might want to explain yourself?” he says to the tiny jet.
It vibrates in his hands.
“... yeah I figured, shit”
---
“I say just smash the bloody thing and be done with it, preferably that takes care of it once and for all” Constantine glares down at the tiny jet.
Hal is almost halfway over the table to shield the little thing, covering it from Constantine’s sight with his hand, “don’t you dare” he growls.
“it would be best for everyone involved, for all we known you could have gone full liminal what with how long you’ve been carrying the blasted thing around”
Zatanna is going over the little thing with her own magic, “it’s trapped”
“In that case just straight up trying to murder it would be the worst thing to do” Hal glares at Constantine some more. Who clearly doesn’t give a shit, figures, all stressed out about dealing with things from the infinite realms but whenever he feels he has the upper hand he’s more than happy to go full nuclear.
“it would be best if we had a way of figuring out their intentions” Batman looks down at the tiny jet impassively.
“Well, another reason to just carefully release this creature instead” Hal responds.
Zatanna’s magic fades away, “I would say that the fact it’s been protecting Hal for as long as he has it is a positive sign”
“hrn, but now it has gone and knocked Flash out, so what does that say” Batman huffs, “it’s too risky”
“Constantine and I will set up everything we can so it won’t be able to escape or try anything dangerous” Zatanna stops looking at Batman and turns back to the tiny plane, “if it turns out to be malicious we could simply banish it back to the realms, killing it would be rather stupid, we do not know what kind of connections it might have within the realms, we might accidentally anger something far worse with such a rash act”
Constantine groans but accepts Zatanna’s reasoning, Batman nods as well.
It’s only then that Hal moves out of the way.
Any plans of attack or banishment fly right out of the window once the two magic users are done and a young boy manifests from the tiny fighter jet.
Hal pushes Constantine aside to get to the boy’s side.
“Jordan, are you insane! Get back here!” 
“Hey, kid, can you hear me? please open your eyes, slowly, take your time” 
Batman has also moved forward much to Constantine’s frustration. Don't these two morons get that their protections won’t do shit if you just casually stroll into the circle?
Batman is mostly concerned in being able to step in should the boy prove to be a hostile entity anyway, but at the same time… well, that’s a child.
The boy kind of dazedly opens his eyes, looks at Hal and then seems to become aware of his own arms and hands, after opening and closing those a couple times he looks back at Hal and lets out a breath that can only be described as relieved and promptly passes out into him.
Well, Hal figures that settles it then. He doesn’t know shit about looking after a kid, and definitely not one who is probably quite dead, but this one is his, back off Batman.
they all startle rather violently when rings of blinding white light pass over the boy and suddenly the kid in Hal’s arms is a bit warmer and seems to have a sluggish pulse and also his clothes are different and his hair is now black and-
Hal is up and moving towards the medical wing before his mind catches back up with him. He can hear Batman behind him, it seems like Constantine and Zatanna aren’t moving after him as fast.
Well anyway his life is already so goddamn weird, this might as well happen.
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ifangirlalot · 11 months
Note
if ur still taking requests i would love to see submissive miles fairchild or sal fisher, the thought of either writhing under u, whiny and needy is just too good
˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐎𝐏!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐱 𝐒𝐔𝐁!𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ˎˊ˗ | starring miles fairchild & sal fisher
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
*~smut!~* [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘]: sub boyfriend, dom reader, tip rubbing, edging, degradition, orgasm denial, dick riding, face sitting
OMG! FINALLY I WAS HOPING I'D GET A SAL REQUEST! nnnnyahhh
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
┊ ˚➶ 。Miles Fairchild ˚ ☁️
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Miles is sputtering beneath me, his eyelids fluttering almost helplessly as he babbles incoherently with every up and down motion of my body. Despite how controlling and demanding he is, how intimidating he is, it surprisingly wasn't very hard to turn into a whimpering, stuttering mess. Turns out, it's a lot easier to do so when he isn't actually in the house. Quint's influence can't touch him if he's not on the property.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love Miles fucking me into submission and degrading me to the fullest, but it's so amazing that I could reduce a headstrong, controlling, dominant force into nothing more than a pile of whimpering, begging filth.
Slowly, I reach my hand down and wrap it around his throbbing cock, pressing my thumb against his clothed tip. In response, Miles let out a surprisingly high pitched whine, his back arching slightly. "A-ah.. oh no, Mistress.. n-no, not there, I don't wanna cum yet.. n-no please.." he begs softly, eyes still squeezed shut as though he's afraid of he looks at me his cock will explode with cum.
"Hush." I say gently, yet firmly. I've quickly discovered that Miles prefers to be praised, which fits well with the person that he is. Miles normally doesn't like to be told he's doing something wrong. It wounds his otherwise enormous ego. Which is what I want. Ignoring him, I go back to rubbing his leaking tip through his boxers.
"No, Miss! P-pleaseeeee..! Oh please, I'll do anything just please don't make me cum.. I want your pussy, I want your boobs, please.. oh GOD please!" Miles continues to beg. I roll my eyes like it's a chore for me and slowly pull his boxers down to his knees, allowing his fully erect dick to bounce out, almost hitting his stomach. For such a skinny guy, Miles is packing some heat down there. If Miles were in charge, he'd be making me tell him how big it is. Except now, I'm the one in charge, and that brings a smirk to my face.
Miles let out another tiny whimper, and I can feel him watching my face, trying to gauge my reaction to his cock, so hard and ready for me. But I keep my face blank and impassive on purpose, just to beat his ego a little.
"I-it's big.. right Mistress?.." Miles finally asks, tentatively.
It is big. It's really big, actually. But the point of this whole scenario is to humble him, so I shrug, which damn near brings Miles to tears, based on his hurt look. But he very noticeably doesn't use the safe word I gave him, so... Maybe he kinda likes being put in his place?
"Size doesn't matter, my love. Now shut up and I'm gonna ride you, okay?" I smirk and reach for the pack of condoms in Miles's nightstand. Miles doesn't like to use condoms, he says he doesn't like the feel of latex on his cock. But, just tonight, I'm going to make him wear a condom. In all seriousness, if he's going to accidentally knock me up, I'd rather it be on one of the nights he's railing me straight into his bed.
When he sees where my hand is going, he whines in protest and starts to squirm. "Oh no.. n-no, ma'am, please no condom, y-you know I don't like them, please.."
"You'll wear it and you'll fucking like it or you'll have to use your hand." I say firmly, my jaw set.
Miles whimpers and squirms more, begging a little more feebly now. "B-but.. you like t-to.. f-feel my.. my cum.." He gulps as I pull out a single packet and rip it open. He whimpers again, knowing that he's lost.
"Shut up, or I'll stuff my underwear into your mouth to shut you up myself." I say, my voice low and commanding.
Miles's face goes bright red and he moans lowly, a shudder ripping through his body.
Oh, this is going to be fun.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
┊ ˚➶ 。Sal Fisher ˚ ☁️
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"Pleasepleaseplease, just.. just let me.. please I want to, I-I want.." Sal's words are coated with a whimper. Drool pooling out of his heavily scarred mouth. His prosthetic lays on the bedside table, the straps hanging limply over the edge. Without his mask, he can't stop drooling, due to the hole torn into the side of his cheek. Most people would think his face is grotesque, but to me it's weirdly beautiful.
Sal's hands are tied together to the bedframe, his lean body squirming underneath mine.
"Shh.. shh.. not right now, we're only just starting, baby.." I say softly, cupping his cheek as my thumb caresses his cheek. My affection makes him whine quietly as he pushes his face against my hand, seeking more. I smile and slowly pull my hand away. I put my hands on his sides to hold him steady as I slowly start to ride him a little harder. He writhes under me and moans out loudly, pushing his hips quickly against mine.
"Mommy.. mommy.. pleasepleasepleasepleaseee.. Gonna.. gonna cum.. m-mm.. I g-gotta.." Sal's adorably pathetic whines almost make me want to give in... but no. That would be too kind. I can see his hands struggling against the restraints, trying to reach out to touch me. His one real eye is glazed over with tears, like he's trying to coax me into untying his hands so he can grab me and hold me against him while he fucks himself into me.
I wrap my hand around his wrists and hold them tight while I bounce my hips quickly. "Don't you cum, Sally. If you cum we'll have to keep going until I want to stop."
He moans loudly and shakes his head in a somewhat lazy way. "N-nuh.. nuh.. oh please no, c-can't take it.."
Eventually, I slowly pull myself off him. His cock is so coated with fluids, both his and mine, that it's shiny with it. I smirk and grab a handful of his electric blue hair and hold his head down as I slowly sink onto his face.
Sal is really good at having his face ridden.
His tongue immediately gets to work swirling around. I moan quietly and tilt my head back, my mouth dropping open in pleasure. "Oh yeah.. that's my good boy.."
His tongue is coated with moisture and it's cold, which makes it all the more better. I rock my hips quicker, clutching his hair harder, causing him to whimper muffledly against my pussy.
Oh, this is going to be an incredibly fun night for me.
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thebibliosphere · 1 year
Text
Whenever I get a particularly nasty message, I always check to see if they're following me first. Nine times out of ten, they're not. But they're also, unfortunately, the same people who feel entitled to send me multiple messages in a row, most of them heavily steeped in the language of moralization and purity.
Like whenever I talk about painkillers or pain management, I always get a handful of well-meaning people who are maybe new to my blog or are just young, asking me if I've tried diet/exercise/meditation, etc.
Sometimes I'll respond to them. Other times I'll just ignore them because I get those kinds of messages so often it's like white noise, and maybe part of me hopes if they stick around on my blog, they'll learn it through exposure via my incessant bitching.
When you see me responding to someone offering that kind of advice, it's either because I'm at my fucking limit or because I'm hoping it's a teachable moment and an otherwise seemingly nice person might unlearn some harmful biases.
The people who don't follow me are not interested in any kind of conversation on the subject. They do, however, feel the most qualified to tell me, someone they didn't know existed until one of my posts crossed their dash, how to manage my life, everything I'm doing wrong, and why I'm a bad person.
And for them, my disability is proof that I am a bad person because they view health as a moral issue.
If you're sick, it's because you don't exercise enough, don't eat the right foods, don't pray enough, don't do enough. They genuinely believe that if they say and do all the right things, like a Good Person, they'll never get sick.
It's their security blanket against the harsh reality that anyone is one bad day away from disability. One faulty gene, one bad infection, one bad accident away from a life-long diagnosis. And if they do get sick, it's a test. A challenge to be overcome with Willpower as they learn the True Meaning of Life.
It can never just be a simple fact of life that sickness happens. That disability exists without a moral reason.
And it's suffocating.
Day in, day out. Folks who don't know me from fucking Eve telling me I'm being punished. Not always as outright as that. They don't always use that word. But sometimes I appreciate it when they do because at least then they're being honest. They're not couching it in the softer language of leftist circles. Not hiding it behind concern.
Because the truth is, there are just as many folks who think they're liberal and enlightened who'd be happy if disabled people just stopped existing. They don't like thinking about us because it makes them think about themselves. About their own fragility and mortality, and they hate that. They hate that there's something they can't control with their thoughts and actions. That they can't moralize their way out of.
Honestly, it's a relief when people are just cunts about it because I can hit the block button, safe in the knowledge that they were never the kind of person who would see me as a person. But when it's some 20yo kid with their pronouns, orientation, and "ACAB" in their profile spouting the same kind of moralization, sometimes even with the language of eugenics, it feels like such a betrayal. Like a loss.
And perhaps if I wasn't multiply disabled, I'd have the energy to pull them back. To tell them why they're wrong and hope like hell they realize what they're doing is harmful. But then, if I wasn't disabled, they wouldn't be messaging me, so I wouldn't be dealing with it.
I wouldn't be expected to use my existence as a teachable moment to spoon-feed them compassion. But I am, and I do. When I can. Not always with the grace that's warranted. Not always with the thought and compassion I ought to. (And I don't; I acknowledge that. I'm prone to anger and off-the-cuff remarks that are hurtful too. Though I try to keep most of it to myself or save it for therapy.)
Basically, if you've made it this far through the TED talk, don't be fucking cunts to disabled people. Don't tell chronically ill people to try yoga. Don't moralize pain relief. Suffering is not noble.
You need to kill the cop and the priest in your head telling you otherwise.
And also if you're the nice people sending me nice messages. Thank you. It helps cushion all of *gestures* this.
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prettybean · 10 months
Text
THEY’RE JEALOUS (COD +18)
* I’m sorry I have a thing for Keegan
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE
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Ghost
He is like a dog and you are his bone. He never left you for a moment: he was always looking at you, his hands were always on you.
When a recruit approaches you to ask some information, Simon will wait patiently until he disappears from your sight, and then whisper in your ear:
"Did you see him? I bet he really wanted to fuck you."
Soap
He trusts you so much that he doesn't even notice when someone is flirting with you. To make him jealous, you could do it on purpose: you lightly touched a man's arm in the middle of the pub where John took you. You laughed and joked with him until you sensed someone standing behind you, staring into your eyes as if to assert their ownership. "I hope you're enjoying yourself."
Price
He is quiet, and when someone hits on you, he rarely interferes. He sits down, almost amused, and observes the spectacle while starting a cigar and smoking peacefully.
When you're alone, his eyes get darker and he points to his lap. "Come here little girl, if you have to flirt like a slut you also have to expect punishment later."
Gaz
He hates seeing you with other people. He would never admit it, but every time he talks to someone he starts to get nervous. Every time you have to reassure him that you only have eyes for him, otherwise you have to suffer a grumpy Kyle all day.
“Do you only want me?”. You nod, kissing him softly. “Remember that I fuck you better than anyone.”
Graves
He would do anything for you: do you want money? He gives it to you. Do you want a car? He buys it for you. You're not even engaged but he acts like you've been partners for years. If he finds out that someone is flirting on you, he approaches the guy and politely tells him to get his ass out of here.
"It was necessary?" You tell him rolling your eyes.
“I can't stand here and watch some asshole look at you like they want to eat you”.
König
He doesn't have jealousy issues, no one has the bravery to approach you when he's around. This man is far too tall and powerful: no one has ever given you more than a fleeting glance.
If someone dared to stare at you more closely, König would place his hand on your hips, squeezing you close and caressing you from your stomach to your breasts. While doing so, he stared the poor man in the eyes with a satisfied smile behind his mask.
Keegan
He isn’t jealous neither. He is aware that you are his, and like the good girl you are, you will surely return to him, crawling. He will chuckle at the pitiful scene no matter how much you attempt to make him jealous. He will stare at you until you come back to him, even if you are only half clothed in front of one of his coworkers.
"Did you finish your show?". He whispers to you before grabbing you by the neck, stroking your face slowly. “Now mine begins.”
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number1mingyustan · 6 months
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If your taking recs can you do a jealous mingyu smut idw but I've been in love with your mingyu fics there so good!
model!mingyu x model!fem!reader
warnings: cursing, kissing, explicit smut, established relationship, fingering (f)., oral (f)., rough sex, begging, recording, sex on camera, oral (m.) , unprotected sex, creampie, jealousy
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Mingyu isn't very good at hiding his emotions. He never really has been. He can try all he wants but there's always something in his tone of voice or his body language that serves as a dead giveaway of how he really feels.
Like right now.
He's got a smile on his face but there's a twitch in his eye and an aura that he seems to be emitting that says otherwise.
There's too many eyes on you tonight and he can't stand it. You recently went public with your relationship, so it's only natural that attention would be drawn your way.
The media took the news surprisingly well. Focused on theorizing how beautiful your kids would be with two parents so prominent in the modeling industry.
However, there seems to be more attention drawn on just you tonight. It's a typical high society event full of designer brands and expensive champagne. Paparazzi are savaging what they can, nothing out of the ordinary.
But you're radiating a different aura tonight and others seem to have picked up on it. More pictures and people are approaching you. Of course, you look absolutely stunning tonight, but his blood is boiling.
Too many eyes lingering on your body.
So he holds his arms around your waist a little tighter. Cuts conversations short and whisks you away from others as much as he can.
You catch onto it early, but choose not to address it. The words left unsaid even through the unnecessarily tense car ride back home.
The front door opens slowly and you step through. Your heels resound throughout the kitchen of the apartment as you step in. Mingyu takes your coat wordlessly, hanging it up in the closet.
You flick on the light above the stove, providing the dark kitchen with dim lighting only bright enough that you can make out the features of his face.
You lean over the counter, resting your chin on the palm of your hand and bat your eyelashes. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he mumvles, corssing his arms and leaning against the wall.
You raise an eyebrow, stepping from behind the counter. You walk over to him, taking his hands in yours. "Gyu."
He breathes out. "Fine."
"I didn't like the attention you were getting tonight."
"What do you mean love," you ask, cocking your head to the side.
"I don't know.... it just felt like everyone was staring at you and talking to you. Don't get me wrong, you're the prettiest girl in the world but fuck–it made me so mad. "
"You don't have anything to worry about Gyu," You look up at him sincerely. " 'M all yours."
"I know.." he mumbles. "Can't help it. You're too pretty."
You grin. "I'm only yours."
"Fuck," he breathes out, leaning closer so your faces only have a small gap separating you. "Say it again."
Your eyes scan his face slowly, admiring his features. "I'm yours."
"Fuck," he breathes out.
He leans in, closing the small gap between you. He kisses you roughly, leaning your back against the kitchen counter. His hands almost immediately grip your ass, giving it a light squeeze as he kisses you messily.
You drop to your knees, hands scrambling to undo his belt buckle. You allow his pants to drop and bring his underwear down with it. You waste no time, taking his thick cock in your hands and pumping him quickly.
You spit, coating your hand with the lubricant and continuing to stroke the length of his cock. You feel him harden and grow in your hand.
Once satisfied, you open your mouth, pressing the weight of his cock against your tongue. You take him in deeper, allowing your cheeks to fit as much as you can in your mouth.
You bob your head, allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat. You continue using your hand, stroking what doesn't fit in your mouth as you suck him.
"Shit–yeah.." he moans.
He grabs a fistful of your hair, making a lazy excuse for a ponytail and starts moving his hips. He starts off slow, testing the waters before his hips pick up pace and he fucks your throat.
He's vocal, letting moans and groans of your name slip past his lips as he thrusts his cock into your mouth. Your eyes water, but you manage.
Regardless of how many eyes lingered and wandered tonight, Mingyu felt a sense of pride in his chest. They could stare all they wanted, but this was a sight for his eyes only.
No one else gets to see you on your knees, determined to take everything he gives you while tears ruin your makeup and turn you into a beautiful mess.
He tugs at the makeshift ponytail in his fist and pulls your lips off of him. He guides you back up onto your feet and carries you in his arms toward the bedroom.
He helps you undress, taking off the black Valentino dress you're wearing and hanging it up in your closet. He makes his way back to you, pressing his lips against yours passionately once again.
Your back meets the mattress and his hands wander along your body. He pulls at the little bit of fabric still covering your body, tossing the articles of clothing onto the floor.
He pulls away from the kiss, flipping you over onto your stomach. He presses your chest down, lifting your ass up in the air. He curses under his breath.
"Shit... gonna fuck you so good. Gotta let everyone know you're mine."
You hum in agreement, sinking your face into the pillow. "Please.."
He spreads your legs apart and dips his head down behind you. His warm tongue licks a long stripe through your folds. You shudder at the unexpected contact.
He sucks on your clit, gliding his tongue along your folds skillfully from behind. He slips two fingers into you, stretching your cunt out. He curls his fingers, pressing them deeper into you at the angle from behind.
You cry out, burying your face deeper into the pillow to muffle your incessant moans. He lands a harsh slap on your ass. He pulls his fingers out of you and removes his lips from your cunt entirely. You whine.
You lift your head and start to look back, but Mingyu grabs you by the throat and forces you to look straight. "Liar..."
You feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance.
"Acting like you're all mine.." he scoffs. "Getting all shy and quiet on me. Gonna make you scream and let everyone know."
Before you can respond, he's thrusting his cock into you. You cry out at first contact, feeling his cock splitting you open. "Fuck!"
He grabs a fistful of your hair again, tipping your head back to hold it up and prevent you from hiding in the pillow. He fucks you roughly, hips meeting your ass with force and an unwavering pace.
Your hands grip the bedsheets to keep you grounded. His cock fills you up perfectly, stretching your cunt open and making your legs shake.
"Mingyu ah-" you cry out.
He's reaching deep inside of you, cock pressing against the sweet spot that drives you crazy with each thrust. His large hand tightens his grip on your hair, forcing you to tilt your head and arch your back more. You can hear his breathing behind you and his cock throbs. "Fuck.. look at you. All mine, only mine."
Mingyu reaches over to the nightstand and grabs his phone. He holds the camera up, recording the area where your bodies meet. You moan out and begin fucking yourself back on his cock. You look back, smirking at the way your ass ripples each time it meets the force of his hips. "Shit yeah–just like that baby."
His eyes roll back and he can feel himself nearing the edge. He snakes a hand between your thighs and starts rubbing quick circles along your clit. You moan, crying out his name like a chant.
Your orgasm hits you suddenly. "Fuck– I'm cumming. Ah-Gyu!"
Your chest rises and falls quickly as the pleasure courses through your body. He follows behind you, thrusting sloppily until he's filling your cunt with his cum. The phone camera is shaky, but he fucks you through it.
You both breathe heavily as you come down. He pulls out, making sure the camera is pointed where your bodies meet. His cum drips out of your, running along your inner thighs. He watches with a smirk and cuts the video off.
He kisses your temple and climbs off the bed to get you a wet rag. He cleans you up and dresses you in one of his t-shirts. He puts on a pair of sweats and climbs underneath the covers next to you.
He spoons you, holding your body close to his knowing that you're his girl and only his.
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© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.
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guppybibi · 1 month
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𖦹 pairing: John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x fem!reader
𖦹 content: Crack & fluff, not proofread, ooc i think
𖦹 notes: more self indulgent fics, posted this later than expected
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The phrases “I’m hungry” or “I’m starving" will practically be non-existent to you once you get together with John. You, his missus, hungry? Oh we just can't have that, that's as bad as the world getting striked by a humongous meteor! He needs to make sure his beloved missus is well fed, what kind of husband is he if otherwise?
Don't even move, he's already mixing up a bunch of different ingredients to make some sort of Scottish concoction that's usually either a hit or miss for your personal taste. The next second, you're getting a spoonful of whatever he made stuffed in your mouth.
So when he sees you reject the airplane of food whooshing towards your mouth, a baffled look is on his face. He swore he heard your stomach grumble, he's positive! “Urr ye nae hungry, bonnie? Ah swear ah heard yer tummy rumbling.” He gulped, setting the bowl and utensils aside and going right over next to you.
“I’m alright, not hungry today.” You snappily reply, as if a worm was in your brain telling you to chop-chop. Turning your head over to the TV, you leave Johnny to purse his lips in disapproval. Did you not like the food he made? No, you would've directly told him that. His mind starts to wander, like it was on an adventure to find out what was wrong. Though the grumbling of your stomach pulls him out of his thoughts, alerting the big red ‘worry’ button in his mind.
“Did ah dae somethin’ wrong?” He quizzes, nuzzling his face into your neck. The feeling of his warm breath fanning against your neck making you twitch a bit, but not enough to water down your fiery anger. “You ate the last pudding cup, John MacTavish.” You answer straightforwardly, looking at him right in the eye. Uh ohh..This wasn't good. If he was afraid of anything it wouldn't be guns and explosions, (Though he still flinches at the sound of fireworks sometimes, don't tell anyone that. It's confidential information.) it’d be his angry missus.
“O-oh..did ah, bonnie?” His voice faltering, the sweat beading at his forehead betraying him as it clearly showed his nervousness at the moment. “Don't act stupid, MacTavish! I saw the plastic cup in the bin!” You shout back in an accusatory tone, your brows furrowing while you point at him. If he was a puppy, his ears would be down right now. You could even visualize it, with the way he was pouting his lips in guilt there was no doubt about it.
“C’mon i’m sorry, bonnie..i didnae mean tae eat it, 'twas in th' fridge fur lik' a week.” He apologizes sincerely, gentle eyes all over you. “Ah thought ye didnae waant it anymair.” His expression and tone was making it hard for you to stand your ground, it was blowing out the burning wick of the candle that existed at the back of your mind.
“Forgive me, please?” The Scot pleads, noticing that you were giving in. It was the perfect time to start using the puppy eyes on you. You couldn't stay mad at him for long, even if you wanted to. “Fine..” And with that, he's all over you. Kissing every region of your face affectionately, he really was like a puppy. You could imagine a fluffy little tail wagging right now.
“Ah promise tae buy ye mair puddin..” He was for sure going to keep that promise.
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bougiebutchbitch · 3 months
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Friend: why do you ship G1 Megastar
Me: oh, easy! It's a toxic, codependent, fucked-up-but-fairly-equal relationship between two terrible people! That's my whole jam.
Friend: okay so why do you ship tfp Megastar?
Me: well...
Look - first off, shipping doesn't mean 'viewing in a romantic light'. It means 'oh my god these guys have an interesting dynamic and so much history. I want them to divorce and never see each other again, and for both of them to heal and grow separately - but I also want Starscream to brutally murder Megatron because that would be cathartic for me, personally'
Tfp Megastar is blatant abuse - flavoured with hints that they Used To Be Something, only their once-noble ideals were warped by the war! Megatron fell back into the cycle of abuse and violence he's been trapped in his whole life - since he was a literal slave! Starscream is his favourite victim.
But because he and Megatron had very different coping mechanisms when facing abuse and brutality, Megatron feels justified in looking down on Starscream for fawning and freezing rather than fighting back.
(hell, a part of Megatron wishes Starscream would fight back because in his mind that would be Growth for his cowardly little lieutenant, even if Megatron would just fucking annihilate him. Meanwhile, Starscream knows he's brutally outmatched, which is why he begs and sobs and pleads because it's literally his only option from his perspective. A survival tactic is a survival tactic is a survival tactic; one is not morally superior to another. But try telling Megatron that, lol)
There were good times but they DO NOT make up for the horrific bad times. But there were still good times, y'know?
Anyway, Starscream continued the abuse cycle to a lesser degree with Knock Out and the drones (and later the Predacons), because he cannot conceive of any other way to be Powerful. He is so fucking insecure and has internalised a lot of the way Megatron talks to him as being true, even if outwardly he projects a narcissistic self-obsessed veneer of confidence.
BUT HE STILL ABUSES OTHERS JUST LIKE MEGATRON WHENEVER HE GETS THE CHANCE! LET'S NOT PRETEND OTHERWISE!!! THAT'S STILL VERY MUCH A THING!
Anyway. Things change for the better! Starscream walks the fuck away because he's sick and tired of being Megatron's punching bag!
It just... doesn't last.
He can't build a life for himself in part because he has 0 support network, but also because he's a self-obsessed neurotic bastard (whether as a survival tactic where he's learnt for so long that it's safest to only care for himself, or because he's just a trashy person, ymmv). He fails at meshing into the Autobots even as a Neutral.
So he goes back to Megatron and begs for another chance.
He gives up on all hopes of being anything but Megatron's lackey for him to smack about as he sees fit - but Megatron also stops hitting him? He seems to realise that treating Starscream that way was just fucking him up???
Of course, this doesn't mean things are miraculously fixed, or that the abusive dynamic is broken. It isn't even the typical 'honeymoon phase' you see in abusive relationships. It's... worse.
Because Starscream is desperate for Megatron's acknowledgement and respect. With every snub from Megatron, he fucks up more in his panicked scrabble to Prove Himself Worthy. Although he proves his competence on occasion, he doesn't get anywhere near enough appreciation to fill that BLATANT gaping hole within him that's sooooo desperate to be seen and loved, and still obviously feels very precarious and paranoid in his position within the Decepticons.
But like. Megatron does protect him from Dreadwing. And I suspect Starscream reads a bit too much into that, believing that their Bad Times are behind them and he finally has Megatron's respect.
(Which. No. But from an abuse survivor's standpoint, clinging to scraps to paint a shinier picture of your relationship... hahaha relatable right????)
Anyway - then they reach the final battle.
Megatron fucking dies.
And Starscream is screaming and clawing and trying desperately to reach him - the monster who hurt him more than anyone else, who stood with him in the burning ruins of an Autobot base and smiled at him like he was proud! Starscream has to be physically carried away by an ally to stop him running to Megatron's corpse!
ONLY WHOOPS, SPOKE TO SOON.
MEGATRON IS REVIVED BY THE ROBOT DEVIL. After which he... basically treats Starscream like he's entirely inconsequential. They defeat the robot devil, and Megs gives some shitty speech about Losing His Taste For Tyranny - but hardly fucking looks at Starscream, the guy who was literally shaped by that tyranny, before jetting off to space to live Happily Ever After
Leaving Starscream. Fuming. Furious.
He flies off alone to continue the Decepticon legacy - because how could Megatron walk away after everything? After everything he's done to their species? To their world? To Starscream?
Only he's not as alone as he thought.
Starscream finds himself facing three vengeful Predacons, who he spent the earlier season treating like shit in a direct parallel of how Megatron treated him. And they tear him apart while he screams and sobs and begs to be spared. Just like he used to beg Megatron.
Sooooo yeahhhhh all of this has been living rent-free in my head since I was like, 13 lol
Friend:
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hees-mine · 10 months
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Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader
Synopsis: After giving into temptation, there was no end. The guilt was slowly started to fade, and you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into the pit of lust for your best friend's father.
Warnings: smut, finger sucking, cursing, dirty talk, taboo relationship, pet names, sir kink, mentions of flirting.
Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, minors do not interact!
WC: 1,607k
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"We can't keep doing this," you tell heeseung breathlessly while he pushes his dick in you, stroking deep inside your warm wet pussy.
"Why baby?" he kisses all over your neck, not really paying attention to you cause your body never matched your words when you were with him.
"C-cause it's w-wrong," you stutter in a pathetic attempt to stop him. It always goes like this you tell him it's wrong, but it never stops you. You always just end up beneath him pussy soaked and begging for more of his cock.
"No, it's not," he tells you, and you're so weak for him that you don't even put up a fight. "Not if we both want it."
It was utterly shameless the way you were both going at it in the back of his car parked off in some empty building parking lot while he stuffed you full. It was so wrong, but it felt so right, so right. "Fuck, y/n, you're so perfect. Feels so good," he pants next to your ear, hips moving to the best of his abilities despite the cramped space in the backseat of his car. "Wanna fuck you all the time" he leans back, eyes scanning your flustered face, his hand pressing on each side of your neck, making you feel lightheaded from the pleasure and lack of air getting to your lungs.
Your legs are limply wrapped around his waist, your hands clawing at his naked back while you take him balls deep in the back seat of his convertible.
The wet sounds mixing with your lewd moans are more than obscene, but the only thing that's in your mind is how good your best friend's dad Is fucking you. "Sir!" You rake your nails down his back, adding more scratches to the ones that hadn't even healed since the last time you had him. You choke out a moan when you feel him hitting really deep, so deep it's almost like you can feel him in your throat. You know it's not possible, but you blame it on him for fucking you absolutely senseless.
"Legs on my shoulders," he rushes out, and he doesn't even give you barely any time before gripping your ankles and throwing them over his shoulders, adjusting you so he can fuck you even deeper, which you didn't know was even possible at this point. "Fuck” he releases a sharp breath. He can't fathom how wet and warm you feel around him. Nothing has felt this good to him ever. "You know I'm so glad my daughter met you," he talks in between his thrusts, body covered in sweat and windows foggy as he bottoms out over and over again. It's like he couldn't stop moving his hips even if he tried. "Otherwise, I never would have got to feel this sweet pussy” he smirks when he feels you clench from his words. "It's true, baby, and I'll do anything to have you," his voice gives out towards the end as he loses himself in your silky heat. "I don't care if we have to sneak behind my daughter's back," he grits through his teeth as his tip drags along your walls perfectly. You can only lay there beneath him, mouth open wide, while he gazes down at you with nothing but want in his eyes.
"Hee-seung," you try to moan his name, but it really sounds more like you're crying than anything else, and it only motivates him to fuck into you faster, knocking the wind out of you.
"Yeah? That's right, say my name." He chuckles. "You know this is wrong me with you." he moves his free hand from beside your head to grope your left breast. "But you can't help it, can you? Can't help fucking your best friend's dad?" He leans down, spitting inside your mouth, watching you struggle to swallow it down cause of the grip he has around your neck. "How do you think she'd react knowing that you're taking her daddy's dick nearly every day? Hmm?" He teases, loving the way your eyes roll back in your head at his filthy words. "That you still call me sir even when I'm deep inside you," he chuckles softly, nibbling on your lobe.
You don't even have to say anything for him to know that you love when he talks to you like that. He can tell by how creamy your cunt has gotten and by how tightly you squeeze around his cock, forcing him to still his hips because the grip around his thick base is almost too tight for him to handle.
Nearly choking on his saliva that's pooled in your mouth, you manage to gulp it down as he finally releases your throat, and you gasp for air. Well, try to, but you can barely catch your breath before he sticks two of his long, thick fingers down your throat. "Suck on my fingers the same way you sucked my dick earlier," he groans, watching you slurping and sucking on his fingers, eyes darkening even more if that was possible. "You remember that, right? The way you choked on my cock while your friend was in the next room?" You nod your head, eyes getting teary from all the pleasure. "You were so loud," he laughed, remembering how you couldn't stop moaning when he was giving you deep back shots right in the next room while his daughter slept soundly. "Had to fill your little mouth with something to keep you quiet, and you liked that, right? You liked having my cock stuffed in your mouth. Hmm pretty"
You do your best to nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head. His fingers in your mouth, along with the way he was fucking you deep and slow, were too much to handle you needed to cum, or else you were going to go insane. "S-sir," you gag around his fingers, and the sound makes his cock twitch.
"Mmm, what's that baby?" He removed his fingers, sticking them straight inside his mouth, sucking off every drop of your saliva, and you couldn't even barely remember what you were going to say. "Tell sir what you need." he lowered himself, pressing a kiss on the side of your puffy lips. "You know he'll give it to you." he licks your lipline before propping himself back up, smiling at your blissed-out expression.
"S-sir, please, need to cum on your dick, please" he couldn't say no to that. He loved nothing more than hearing you beg for it.
He hums softly, nosing the side of your face and releasing a deep breath that he didn't even notice he was holding. "Thought you'd never ask" he leaves little pecks here and there, his hand making its way down to your under-stimulated clit, using his thumb to massage it just the way he learned you liked it. "Kiss me," he whispers on your lips as you use the last bit of sanity to capture his soft lips in a messy kiss.
Kissing you was just as good as fucking you. Luckily for him, he got to do both, and on top of it all, he got to hear your precious sounds and your tiny gasps for air while he made out with you licking in your mouth, swirling his tongue with yours before transitioning back to soft little pecks those were his fucking favorite your lips were to die for, hell, you were to die for. "S-sir wanna cum” your brows draw together as you mumble the words on his lips, and he still doesn't stop kissing you.
"Then cum baby, it's okay," he slurs, eyes squeezed shut as he feels you getting tighter by the moment. "Cum on my cock” he whispers in your mouth, messily sucking on your tongue as his hips roll uncontrollably, chasing his high just like you.
"Yes, s-sir," you whimper, stomach tightening and walls clenching as you let go, limbs trembling as you cream his meaty cock.
"Want me to cum?" He moans out, too lost in pleasure. He's right there, but he needs to hear you say it. He needs to know you're just as eager to take his cum as he is to give it to you.
"Yes, please give me your cum, sir" The moment you said yes, he let go emptying himself deep inside you, ropes and ropes of endless cum drenching your already-soaked cunt. "Yes, cum in me" You dug your nails into his sweaty back making him groan in pleasure.
The warmth invading you makes you sigh in pleasure, your hands flying to his hair and bringing him in impossibly close as you latch your lips onto his, never wanting this moment to end. He moans into the kiss, feeling so many sensations at once, and it's too much, but he just can't stop because he's fucking become addicted to your feel, your taste, just you. He's so undeniably obsessed with you.
His hips eventually still, and your walls relax after your second orgasm since you left his house, the first being when he fingered you in the passenger while driving here.
Both of you shake and tremble, feeling a little too overwhelmed after your sneaky getaway.
You both take turns catching your breaths, hearts still beating wildly in your chests as he lays on top of you with his cock still deep in your cunt.
At some point, he was gonna clean you up and take you home, but right now, he wanted to stay with you a little longer cause he didn't get to last time.
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Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.
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