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#LOSES MIND OVER THE ✨ BOY
beepboopappreciation · 3 months
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THE BOY HATH ARRIVED
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who's the most possessive out of the bad guys?
It's a bit complicated. They're all possessive, in their own ✨special✨ ways. Because they're special boys.
Horror is possessive like a wild animal. He hates anything that looks like it could hurt you, that makes you nervous, that approaches too fast. It's all or nothing with him; he can be the most ferociously violent and unpredictable of the four, especially considering he has a penchant for decapitation. But he can equally be the most easygoing when he's decided something isn't a threat. He's possessive with his claws and teeth, possessive over your scent and softest parts... though he likes that his hands can encircle your waist entirely, it also makes him scared to let go. He's the bigger and stronger mate, he needs to protect you from the rest of the world. He needs to keep you safe from the things that could kill you quickly. Like him.
Dust is possessive like someone who has lost everything. He found something good after what he did, despite all odds, and he will not lose you. You're so wonderful - he doesn't say it aloud but he truly believes that once you wake up and realise your boyfriend is just a pathetic mass murderer who can't emote, you'll leave. So he's always possessive, under the surface, always jealous and murderous, especially toward anyone he thinks you're starting to get 'too' close with. It's a fire that never goes out. If you're not in his arms, he's watching, quietly burning.
He hides it extremely well. Just like his other emotions. But it's always there - waiting for him to snap, and use it.
Killer is possessive like a child. A child who can (and will) stab people to death. So long as he believes he's your favourite, things will be fine, but he cannot stand someone taking up your attention for too long. Look at him, look at him, look at him - if he can draw your eyes back to him he'll quickly relax, the fastest way to keep him from hurting anyone is by laughing at something he's said. But if someone keeps insisting on getting in the way and monopolising you, he lashes out wildly. Killer's sense of right and wrong is massively fucked up... it's easy to see how little empathy he has for those he doesn't care about when he puts a knife in someone's gut for snapping their fingers at you while he's talking to you.
Nightmare is possessive like a lover. He's pretty tolerant of most things; very close friends are fine, time apart is fine, he doesn't mind. You can do pretty much as you please, so long as you return to his bed at the end of the night. The one thing he absolutely will not tolerate? Romantic rivals. Contenders for your love will die. If someone likes you, and tries to pursue you even slightly, they meet a gruesome end. If you beg on their behalf he might settle on just banishing them to a distant universe... but you probably won't get to them in time. Nightmare, if it wasn't obvious, has a big problem with being "number 2" in anything. And when it comes to your heart, he won't give up a single inch.
Deep down, he just wants you to hold him close and reassure him that you won't leave like everyone else in his life has. But he's much too proud to admit that. So he settles on murdering anyone who could somehow, someday, get in the way.
Prune the tree when it's a sprout and you'll never have to deal with the roots.
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milknhonies · 2 months
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Daddy's Final Deal
Oneshot Summary: Your possessive Step-Father Bruce Wayne decides he cannot bare you leaving for college...so he leans on a friend who shares the same obsession for you. He offers him a deal.
Oneshot Warning: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Non-Con, CNC, Grooming (all characters are of legal age.) Bondage, P in V, Oral Sex, Threesome, Exhibition, Vouyerism, pseudo-incest between step-father & step daughter, pimping if you squint, breeding kink if you squint. No condoms/unsafe sex.
Word Count: 10.2k
Author Notes: This is a gift for @cardierreh15 after a playful dare. I hope you enjoy this babe 🥺✨
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Gently laid on soft satin bed sheets, your thoughts were consumed with the evening discussion that you had during supper with your step-father Bruce and his best friend Clark, followed by the unexpected marriage proposal Clark had made. You were surprised Clark had wanted your hand for any other purpose than for your step-father’s wealth– you would have never guessed his feelings for your because he was usually so calm and friendly with everyone. Yet he had asked you softly if you would consider being his wife with a warm smile, and you knew he was serious from the glint in his eyes. It was like your lungs were drowning with how difficult it was to breathe.
For the first time, your heart stirred, void of fear and worry.
You didn’t outright decline his offer, but a decision of this magnitude deserved more than a hasty reply. You had to think this through being that you were so caught if guard in the first place, so you demurred by saying you needed time to think about your official answer. After all, you were just a month away from starting college. You wanted to be a journalist like Clark despite Bruce’s protests and alternative encouragement for you to remain home and attend charity balls with him. Besides, Clark was a bit too old…a little younger than Bruce but both men still had twenty years on you.
If age wasn’t the defining taboo, you had noted Clark was a gentleman who had the ability to make you laugh. If anything was to happen to Bruce or Alfred, you felt Clark would be the most reliable shoulder to lean against.
You rolled over and sighed, you held your blanket up to your chin and continued to ponder.
Clark Kent...he would be a decent husband, but did you have feelings for him? He was rather charming and undeniably handsome. It was something that you would probably lose sleep over in the future.
Clark had approached the topic very calmly, almost shyly, and Bruce had seemed to be expecting this. That made it obvious to your that Clark had asked your step-father first, and Bruce would not have let his best friend ask you if he did not approve first...Bruce in fact was smiling at dinner and that smile fell when you have your polite neutral response.
Suddenly the wine he had let your drink felt a little sickly in your belly. You excuses yourself as soon as you could to your bedroom.
You rolled over in your sheets and sighed softly, snuggling up under the thick duvet and nuzzling the thousand-dollar pillows. It confused you, but the more you thought about it, the less absurd it became. You giggled. Clark would make a very good husband, and you would be lucky to have someone such as him, of such a good but firm character, always with an easy smile or an encouraging word for you. And he had always been a good friend to you, respecting your interests in writing, sometimes babying you, which girls your age might find annoying but you didn’t mind.
The boys your age were so horny and stupid...immature. it was impossible to see them as providers for the families that they claimed to want for themselves.
So saying “yes” to Clark would feel a little weird to you, but what real reason was there to say no? Did you have someone else? You might’ve shared kisses along your teens in highschool, yet none of them swept you off your feet enough to like them.
You were just glad that Clark had agreed to let your think about it. His smile had been relaxed, and he showed no anger or resentment. His eyes did appear tighter, other than that it even seemed as if he had expected your hesitation and was willing to wait. Clark was always so understanding, why wouldn’t he be about such an important question like this?
You shut your eyes with a smile.
★★★
Meanwhile, the men remained downstairs in the library, in front of the fireplace, and Clark looked across the flames at his best friend.
“Are you sure you still want to go through with this Bruce?” he asked.
The men had known each other for years and had grown a close bond in friendship and other activities. And if course it was bound to slip from one man’s lips to the other about their depraved thoughts, desires and fantasies....it turns out they shared a common denominator... You.
Over a month ago they were sitting in the same place discussing the same issue about to occur...losing you.
They knew if you left for college, you’d meet some cocky asshole studying to be a lawyer or doctor, get pregnant, get married quickly only to suffer a uncommitted marriage and end in a heart breaking divorce.
What type of men would they be if they watched their favourite girl fall to such demise as that!?
Bruce had married your mother when you were fourteen and he was the best dad you could ever ask for. He helped with your homework and taught you to swim while he paid for your mother’s chemo therapy.
When she died three years ago, you’d just finished highschool. You were totally shattered and put off summer break and college until you knew you were prepared. But now Clark had dumped the marriage proposal.
Clark sighed. His best friend's idea wasn’t totally a surprise to him. Bruce had planned this.
Clark recalled how Bruce was constantly looking out for you; his protectiveness as a stepfather, while perhaps misguided, was undeniably apparent. It was clear that he cared about you deeply and had shown no interest in any other woman since the passing of his wife—your mother. Clark often caught Bruce gazing at you with a loving and compassionate gaze, as if he were contemplating the best way to look after you.
During those days Clark was scared to share his own perverse thoughts...oh how the man wanted to look after you. You always were so lovely around him, so eager to gain his attention and praise, perhaps as another fatherly figure she could cling to...It wasn’t hard for Bruce to see that Clark loved you dearly and was clearly proud of your accomplishments. Clark was proud like a second father.... Except he wanted to do things no father should ever do to their little girls. He almost lost it one day when he walked in on you, on your hands and knees scrubbing the carpet before Alfred could find the stains you’d made when stealing some red whine from Bruce’s cellar. Your skirt was a tad too short, the hem pulled up over your ass cheeks and crotch. Clark held back from ripping those white nylon leggings with those cute pink panties and shoving his cock deep in your tight cunt.
He wondered if Bruce ever found out about the stain...he touched himself imagining Mister Wayne spanking his wayward little minx of a daughter over his knees.
Clark wanted you. Bruce wanted you and the moment they both figured it out, neither of them could judge each other for their thoughts....
They decided Clark would ask for your hand and the billionaire of Gotham would give his best friend his blessing – on one condition.
The idea was foul and taboo, and Clark was not sure whether he should deny to it or not. But this was his best friend, the loving step-father who cared about the young woman Clark wanted to marry as much as he did if not more. You had shared things in the past, and whenever you had debated or ‘fought’ over things, it was always light hearted, and never bitter.
“Of course I do, if not now then not ever Clark....” Bruce replied with a brief nod, “Tonight might be the only chance we get.”
Clark nodded slowly for a moment. Yes, he cared for you and had done so for a long time. He was happy that when he asked, you had not acted with shock or revulsion. But you had seemed surprised and hesitant, and he could not blame your for being shy and uncertain.
“What if she says no?” he asked.
Bruce’s eyes darkened, “She will...at first. Are you capable of pushing through that Kent?”
The super man smirked sickly. Of course he could. Clark nodded.
“She is going to be scared,” Bruce replied with certainty as he slowly turned his head towards the stairway out in the hall that led to your wing of the mansion, “I have been expecting this since her mother died, I doubt she remembers that night…”
Clark sighed, “I recall you letting her drink. She was a giggling and crying mess when I carried her to her room to have a nap.”
Bruce curled his lips inward, and he nodded. The silence grew strained.
Clark’s eyes furrowed in curiosity, “Bruce…are you hiding something from me?”
“She…” his friend paused, his grey eyes grew hazed as he looked into the flames, “When you left, I went to check up on her,” he thrummed his fingers on his chin, “She was touching herself Clark... and I caught her and…well…she…” his eyes met the other man again.
Clark sat back in his leather seat, his throat bobbed, “You watched until the end?” the was no judgement merely a question to acknowledge what had happened.
The other man nodded again and continued, “I came in after she finished, she was half out of it. So when I tucked her in, she kissed me…fully…and…god Clark…she- she’s so beautiful, I can’t watch her go off to college.…”
The journalist exhaled and clenched his jaw.
And Bruce sighed, “That’s why my little girl is going to be pregnant tonight.”
Clarks eyes widened, his lips parted hesitantly. That was not in the original plan...He paused and struggled to find the right words. Bruce had given Clark the greatest opportunity and the wrong word would revoke all that granted privilege.
“We both care about you,” the billionaire sucked his teeth, “Forget what the tabloids will say. They are hypocrites with absolutely no moral sense. Afterall mr superman, aren’t you rubbing shoulders at the daily planet, surely you can take care of the backlash? We aren’t blood related and c’mon we have a right to her better than anyone on this cold spinning rock. With my wealth and your muscles, who else would take better care of her? No one else!” Bruce said fiercely, although his voice was a whisper, his eyes narrowed slightly.
Clark found himself frozen in place, his eyes locked on his friend’s face. It took him a moment to process all the emotions and thoughts that surged around inside him. Finally, he managed to nod his head slowly, as he tried to take in the unexpected turn of events.
“Okay Wayne,” his lips broke into a dark chuckle, “Lets go put a baby in our little girl.”
The wooden door your bedroom creaked open slowly. A bit of light from the hallway made its way past Bruce’s bulk form, illuminating his step-daughter’s face. When he whispered your name, you did not stir, and he smiled to himself. He turned around to Clark and nodded. The two of them moved forward stealthily. Bruce carefully slid his arms under the blanket, finding your form before scooping it up. You stirred but did not wake. Bruce carefully carried you to his master bedroom, a place he scarcely let you enter for the obvious reason of what he kept secret in his drawers. Clark shut the doors and locked them, heaven forbid Alfred managed to walk into this event.
It would be more comfortable here for the three of you, and warmer with how Bruce kept an electric fireplace and big flat screen tv on the wall. The flames continued dancing cheerily as Bruce gently laid his step-daughter down, looking at you with a small smile.
Several moments passed before Bruce lowered his hand, gently moving his hand under your nightie chemise, his hot palm over your stomach. The mattress dipped on both sides keeping you balanced. Another set of fingers creeped up your thighs. Since the touches were so gentle, you did not stir so easily. Clark watched silently, his heart pounding as Bruce slowly lifted your hem up showing off a set of fresh underwear he allowed you to buy with the allowance credit card.
A cute pair of cotton white panties with a soft yellow duck print on top of the crotch. Clark swallowed hard. His thumb scarcely brushed over your damp apex. A small wet spot was beginning to spread. You softly cooed, still not awake…surely dreaming of something naughty by what Clark could smell.
Bruce glanced at Clark before looking back at you, and carefully untied the small strings that held the top bust of your nightie closed. His hands were steady as he parted the folds.
And there they laid their eyes on your breasts, Clark had to hold back a loud sharp intake of breath. Your nipples were perfect, and he found himself craving to suckle them. Your nipples hardened slightly as the slight coolness of the air tickled them.
You groaned softly, your eyelids fluttering open. You shifted and rolled over onto your side, looking around in confusion.
‘Where am I? Where’s my cuddle pillow?’
You rubbed your eyes and registered that you were with your step-father and Clark…on Bruce’s bed…. Both men were staring down at you silently, and you gasped when you realised your nightie was open. You held back a shriek and quickly whipped it closed before shoving the hem of your nightie down past your knees.
‘What am I doing out of my bed and with my chest exposed? Why we my nightie up so high? Did they see my underwear?’
Bruce's faint smile and Clark's gentle expression might have brought you ease, but the situation was too strange.
‘Why was my nightie been untied and opened? Why was it so far up my legs? Did one of them do it?’
The idea was...absurd. But what else would have happened? You were not in the habit of sleepwalking. You tied your nightie closed and quickly sat up, looking at the two men.
“I um…Is...something wrong, Dad?” you asked oh so innocent and naively as you sat up, feeling Bruce’s thick blue cotton blankets under your body. Bruce’s large and callused hand gently grasped your upper arm, softly stroking it as if to comfort you. His kind smile stayed on his face, unmoving even as he shook his head. His quiet demeanour continued to soothe you with each moment, despite the overwhelming emotions swirling through your mind.
“Nothing is wrong sweetheart, you-…” he breathed, his other hand caressing your cheek. Your step-father was an affectionate man, giving your mother and you hugs often whenever you wanted them, but in all these years...he had never caressed your cheek like this. His thumb ran softly over your lips intimately.
Briefly turning your head to inspect Clark, you found there was nothing about his body language denoting immediate danger. He even leaned in slightly and rested a hand on your knee, shifting even closer toward you.
You sighed softly in comfort...until he said, “You...Don’t need to be afraid....”
Your eyes widened, “Be afraid of what?” you asked. Like some strange horror, the dotes were slowly connecting. The air around you felt taut. You were confused and even Clark could hear how your heart was beating faster, anxiously. Your lips parted slightly, but what could you say, surely they weren’t going to…were they? Why were they looking at you in that way? Why did they look so...hungry?
Bruce smiled and leaned in, placing a kiss on your forehead directing your attention back to him. Without answering your question, he tilted your chin up and sealed his lips over yours in a gentle kiss, his lips pressing against you in a firm manner.
Your eyes popped wider as you suddenly pulled away from the kiss. While other boys had given you tender kisses before in your youth, none had done it quite as passionately as Bruce, your own step-father. His kiss was gentle yet deep, unlike anything you had experienced before. The sensation of his tongue inside your mouth and the minty flavour of his breath filled your senses, making you feel both awkward and ashamedly excited.
Having predicted the situation, Clark quickly got behind you. You felt his thick toned arms snaked around you in a caging hug, holding you firmly in place. Bruce smiled and put his hands on your hips, leaning in and quickly resuming the contact of your lips. You couldn’t lift your arms to shove him away. Your head was pressed against Clark’s chest, unable to break free although you wiggled about furiously, trying to move to the side.
Clark's arms held you in place firmly, pinning your own arms. His hands were spread across your chest and stomach, while his mouth pressed against the shell of your ear.
“Good girl,” he praised, “Stay nice and still for Daddy and me hm?”
He ducked his nose a deeper and traced his lips along your soft skin, kissing along the shape of it as Bruce deepened his seductive French kissing for a moment before breaking it. You had been unable to break it since his hands cupped your face. A soft whimper escaped your lips as Clark started licking along your earlobe, and you gasped softly when he suddenly blew on the wet trail he had just left.
“Easy baby, you need to calm down… Please,” Clark whispered softly, kissing your neck and ear as Bruce placed light kisses along your cheek.
Your step-father smiled and pinched the front of your nightie down and open just a bit to expose your shoulders and collar bone, which he lavished in more wet kisses.
The attention being given to you by both men were gentle, but the whole situation was frightening to you. You knew you should’ve tried to bite their ears, but how could you harm them? The two men you cared about? The man stroking you was your step-father, how could he want to do this? And more importantly, how could Clark just let it happen?
“Please,” you jerked your head back, fruitless from breaking away from their searing kisses, “Let me go...I need to sleep...” you whimpered softly.
“Sh- shh-hh...” Bruce shushed hotly, suckling gently upon the part where your neck met your shoulder. The skin there was sensitive, and you gave a soft cry when you felt him nip gently.
“... D-dad, Clark I-, please...don’t” you whimpered. You turned your head to look up at Clark, looking for an answer. Clark merely gave you that warm, wide smile and captured your lips, closing his eyes as he kissed you with a gentle passion.
Your lashes fluttered, his lips were soft and he was not nearly as forceful as Bruce. He coaxed you to comply. The tiniest of moans left your mouth and filled his.
You shifted again as your step-father worked at your nightie, tugging it open some more. You gave out a weak mewl when Clark broke the kiss. You trembled under Bruce’s dancing fingers.
“Did- did I do something wrong? Why are you doing this to me?” you asked, the corners of your eyes watered. Had your step-father been expecting you to say ‘yes’ to Clark? Was he mad at you? Why was he also here kissing you like this?
This was your own step-father, the man who had raised you since you were fourteen. The man that had married and fucked your own mother. The betrayal felt like a deep and sharp cut. Is this how he saw you? Just some girl he could manipulate when she was of consenting age? You felt sick...and angry. It was practically incest, it was an abomination!
You could barely contain the whimpers and spurting tears rising.
Your question was ignored as the two men made short work of your entire dress, two pairs of hands removing it while keeping your restrained. You could barely contain your squeals when the fabric ripped. Bruce grunted as he tore through and tugged the damn thing from your goosebump skin.
Clark's hands caressed your belly while Bruce's moved to cup your breasts.
Bruce gave a shuddering breath and weighed them in his hands. They were so soft and succulent. He had dreamed of doing this to you many times, for so long during your sweet innocent hugs he’d sneakily brush his fingers against your chest whenever he could to steal and imagine how great your tits would one-day feel in his hands.
All of his expectations were met, and exceeded. And there was still more to see, to explore.
“Please, tell me! Why!?” you demanded. Clark's grip on your arms were gentle but very firm, and you could not scratch either of them. Bruce smiled at you fondly. He cupped your cheeks again and cooed.
“You have done absolutely nothing wrong babygirl. This isn't a punishment. See... We both want you to know how much we love you,” his face leant for and licked at your salty cheek.
“And it’s not like you have a good reason to say no to Daddy and I.” Clark whispered while Bruce fondled your breasts, pinching the hard nipples between his fingertips in a careful way. Clark peered down at what his friend was doing and observed your soft breasts. He was eager for his own turn to feel them, but he was not going to rush his friend. They had agreed to share and be fair about it, and he knew Bruce was a man of his word.
“… No good reason to say no?” you asked, your heart pounding, although your question was barely more than a whisper. They both nodded. Clark smiled and kissed your cheek before touching his nose against it in a loving nuzzle.
He cupped and massaged one breast, giving a brief nod to his friend before shifting his eyes towards your other breast.
Clark moved one hand and took your right breast, which Bruce had offered, and began to fondle it while Bruce played with your left one. Bruce was firmer in his kneading, and Clark was gentle as his fingers skimmed along the underside of the mound, as if he was afraid of hurting you. Both hands felt so good on you, and you squirmed around, afraid to submit to any pleasure from this shocking situation.
“Please... please, let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone about this, not even Alfred, please let me go now. Let me go. Leave me alone! I'm your step-daughter! Bruce! Y-you’re meant to be my Dad!” you pleaded, trying to get through to your step-father as he gave your breast a very firm, although not painful squeeze.
Bruce chewed his bottom lip and moved away. He got off the bed and watched his best friend touch you. He tugged at his tie and unbuttoned his blouse. His chest was covered in dark and silvery hairs. He fiddled with his belt buckle. His trousers fell to his ankles. His hand dove into his briefs.
Your eyes flooded with more tears. You were staring at Bruce’s erection.
“Come on princess...You know we won’t hurt you. Ever... Don’t be scared, relax, enjoy and be a good little girl…” Bruce said softly, climbing back on the bed he reached out and started caressing your arms.
You couldn’t help it, you screamed and tried to kick your step-father away with your legs as hard as you could. You hated that you had to hurt him like this. Clarks heavy hand clamped down on your squealing mouth
Bruce shook his head, slapping your kicking heels away. His lips curled into a mean sneer as he leant forward and tweaked your nipples, sending a jolt of pain through your chest.
You yelled out behind Clarks hand, trying to bite down on his palm. He didn’t flinch once. His nose flared, he was a little irritated with your teeth sinking into his skin.
“Better stop screaming sweetheart or Daddy’s going to have to put a gag in that little mouth of yours,” Bruce ground between his gritted teeth.
Your pleas were not doing the trick, and your desperate kicks weren’t either. They both played with your breasts and Bruce chuckled, drawing your nipple into his mouth and sucking firmly on the hard nub.
Clark bodily drifted his hand down between your legs, touching your duckling and creeping down further to your damp crotch. His fingers strong and hard, lazily rubbed in circles. Both of them seemed acutely aware of the pleasure that you were feeling at their attention even as you pleaded with them and tried to deny it. It only spurred them on and made them want your more.
“Daddy, stop it!” you wailed, “This is wrong and you know it too Clark!” you flung yourself backwards and tried to push the other male off you.
The man let your nipple free and looked into you's eyes. It had been so long since you had called him 'Daddy', having abandoned it for 'Dad' or just 'Bruce' in later years.
“Pumpkin…” he said, grabbing your wrists, giving Clark enough time to move away. Bruce pushed you back hard onto the mattress and sat on your ankles, holding your wrists down as he clouded you in his body. He hovered above you. You trembled violently, weeping hard.
“This is going to happen, and there’s nothing you can do or say to stop it,” his head lifted, “You finished stripping Clark?” he asked.
Your eyes flashed up. Your point of you made the world appear upside down. Clark sat his glasses on the bed side table...it was the last thing he wore.
“Bottom drawer, there’s a roll of duct tape.”
Clark nodded and pulled it out. The colour surprised him ...it was pink. Clark planned to use it on you one way or another, no matter what
Bruce trailed his nose across your face and pressed his lips to your forehead, “Trust your Daddy. Have I ever done anything to you that proved harmful?” Bruce asked softly, his blue eyes filled with a pleading for your understanding. You fell silent as you slowly shook your head whimpering and breaking down at the tearing sound of the pink duct tape. Bruce pushed your wrists together. The sticky sensation bound around your wrists tightly. He had always been such a loving step-father. But this went past the bounds of a step-father.
“No... b-bu-tt this-s... we're n-not...d-daddy, y-youre meant to be m-m-my dad-daddy...” Your voice was breaking, a soft pathetic whine as you pleaded, “Clar-k h-elp me.”
Bruce’s eyes glanced up at Clark. A tiny nod. Another rip and the tape was pushed flat against your sobbing mouth.
Clark rejoined you both on the bed and held your hands down for Bruce as the man bent down taking your nipple into his mouth again, his tongue rubbing it firmly as he suckled. A chest rattling gasp was muffled behind the tape.
Clark held you, massaging your other breast. You started to feel the fiery tingle between your legs. You were a virgin, but you were not stupid, and had touched that special place before...shame filled your mind because truly how much of a monster were you for being aroused by... your own step-father?
Despite the pleasure, you were afraid. You wiggled against Clark, twisting your arms and whining softly.
Clark's hands were gentle yet firm, and he held you in place even as you twisted. He moaned softly against your neck, and you felt the underside of his arousal along side Bruce’s, both touching the outsides of your thighs.
"Bruce...I need her,” he whispered, “Let me fuck your precious princess?”
The older man corrected softly humming, “Our precious princess.”
The two strong men lifted you up slightly from your laying down. You tried weakly kicked at them again before feeling Bruce slap the inside of your thigh and point a stern finger at your face.
“Enough. Don’t make me throw you over my knee babygirl.”
You sniffled and started to hiccup behind the tape gag. The tiny jerks from your body every time you hiccupped made the men’s faces soften.
You were forced to sit up on your knees and lay forward against Bruce’s chest. When Clark tugged your hips backwards, your bum was angled to the sky while your stomach laid in Bruce’s lap, your legs at either side of his torso. This caused your chest to be nestled into Bruce's lap, your breasts pressed against the hard hot flesh of his cock. You were effectively sandwiched between them, and wiggled around, trying to not think about your step father’s cock touching your nipple and switching against your skin.
His large hands touched your shoulders and laid it on your head, patting your hair softly. Clark's hands were at your rear, rubbing and kneading the cheeks and parting them slightly as he felt the pert rump. A soft playful spank made you jump and whine. You started sobbing again, wiggling against the firm grip of your step-father as he tried to soothe you. One of Bruce's hands cupped his cock and rubbed his precum into your swollen nipples.
You tried to kick at Clark as you felt his hands on the waistband of your panties, and you turned your face away from your step-father's throbbing erection that Bruce was raising to rub along your wet salty cheek. You tried to use your hands as leverage.
How was you supposed to get out of this situation? It was clear what they wanted to do and also clear that they would not be deterred. The combined forces of two fully-grown men, strong super humans at that, against that of a young woman, was quite overwhelming. They were not letting your go, and that was that. Bruce chuckled as Clark slid his step-daughter's panties down, exposing your pert ass. Clarks mouth looked dry...his tongue flicked out.
It was rather a lovely sight for Clark, and he sighed contentedly as he reached down to stroke your lower lips. You moaned softly, you used your knees to get away and to launch yourself up Bruce’s body. You managed to bury your face against your step-father's chest and the crease of his armour as you felt Clarks hot breath along your little glistening slit.
Soon Clark's fingers rose up to pet your wet pussy. He caressed the throbbing mound gently, fingers slowly pulling apart your slick nether lips. With one arm, he hooked it under your stomach and lifted your hips, forcing you back up higher on your knees. This allowed him to see your womanhood more clearly.
“How's it look?” Bruce asked calmly, stroking your hair and back in an attempt to soothe you, forgetting his own throbbing arousal for the moment as he tried to quieten your sobs.
“Ohh, Bruce, our little girl is so perfect,” he moaned, grinning as he gently felt your inner flesh with a finger. Your inner flesh peeked out shyly from your outer lips, like the petals of a flower. Bruce could not help but chuckle at Clark’s response as he ran his fingers along your spine, feeling your twitch and hearing a soft shudder come from the tape gag. He pressed his lips to your brow and hummed.
“Yea darlin’,” he broke into his relaxed southern drawl, “You goin’ tell daddy about how you probably used his credit card to wax this pretty pussy?”
Bruce’s eyes widened. His jaw dropped as he looked down at your eyes, pleading up at him wetly.
“It’s a real sculpted love heart...now who on earth is this for huh? Only little sluts get groomed like this,” Clark sat up and leant of you and Bruce. His lips pressed to the corner of your tapped lips, “Are you a little slut baby girl.”
Muffled sobs emanated from the girl as you pressed your face against your step-father’s chest and Clark paused. The men exchanged smirks.
“Have you let some boy fuck this cute hole Baby girl?” Clark breathed, softly, a mocking tone to his voice. He touched your side with his free hand, the other remaining at your mound but being idle, the finger now pulled out. Bruce looked down and gently tilted his step-daughter's chin up to look into your eyes. You looked very lovely with tear-stained cheeks, you had never looked more beautiful his eyes. His hand slowly ran along your cheeks, wiping your tears as he looked down at your tenderly.
“Sweetheart...My lovely little girl. You’re not in trouble, tell us the truth...” he said, softly, caressing your face. Clark bit his lip gently and resumed stroking your rear and your thighs, soon going back to rubbing your hot folds. There was no denying the pleasure, and he felt wetness.
You whimpered softly as you shook your head no while you succumbed under the gentle assault of four hands, all caressing and touching you in the most intimate and gentle of ways.
It was strange, they were not supposed to be doing this and you had been trying to fight them off. And despite all the fear, despite all the rough man handling, despite their mean mockery and degrading humiliation...your groin felt alive....You felt good,
You glanced back over your shoulder at Clark. He met your eyes and smiled. He pressed his lips to your forehead while his fingers were stroking and rubbing your intimate areas in a way that caused your to become wetter.
You hadn’t noticed how your crying was being replaced by snotty sniffling, and mewling moans.
Bruce smiled down at you when you turned your head back to him.
You felt his hand cup your bicep, pulling your bound hands up. You stretched your fingers. He held up his erection and pointed it to your palms
“Touch me baby,” he encouraged softly, “I trust you.”
You whimpered softly and shook your head, giving a sudden gasp with wide eyes as one of Clark’s fingers wiggled into you.
“Please...?” he purred lowly, smiling as Clark pressed second one inside and slowly scissor your insides. You let out a low shuddering moan as your step-father gently grasped your wrist, leading your hand to the swollen cock. Clark continued sliding his fingers in and out of you, before adding a third. Your walls clamped and tightened. You let out a soft hiss and were unable to stop yourself from pushing against Clark’s hand. The man then angled his fingers as he thrust them in slowly, causing them to press against a spongy place on your inner wall that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
Bruce smiled, his hand cupping over your bound hands so you were forced to grasp the base of his erection. You tried to remove your hand – but of course, to no avail. His thick rod was very warm and solid, you made a small noise as you felt it throb under your hand. You squirmed slightly under Clark’s attention, finding it difficult to breathe as a wave of pleasure washed over you.
Clark peppered a flood of gentle kisses along your soft cheeks as he thrust his fingers into you. Your step-father released a soft moan.
Your hand tightened and rubbed your step-fathers shaft weakily. Your shuddering breaths and fluttering eyes told Bruce everything he need to know about how well Clark was treating their special girl.
Your fingers slowly slid up and down the shaft several times, before you wrapped your fingers around it more firmly and did just as he guided, pumping it slowly and seeing the head seep with a bit more precum. His head tilted back a bit and he gave a low groan of pleasure. You looked up at him and saw how much he liked it, then whimpered, it was so strange how you could have the power all of a sudden. Curiosity, getting the best of you as you looked down at it. It was impressive-looking, and you were becoming slowly bemused to think that he wanted to put this in you.
You pumped more firmly, looking up at your step-father's face intently. He was no longer holding your down, so you pulled herself up just a bit, Clarks fingers followed you as you weakly tried balancing up and off Bruce’s chest. You continued your firm pumping of your step-father's engorged member. Now the taboo excitement of watching him moan and dig his nails into the bed sheets made you conclude that you were getting a thrill out of all this. It made you wonder if there was something wrong with you just as much as there was something wrong with him.
At fourteen, who could deny that little sweet highschooler you had a big crush on your step dad before it developed into crushing on his journalist friend Clark Kent, the very man with three digits up your sweet silky hole.
It was time. You could definitely not ignore the pleasure you felt from Clark, who was working slowly and tenderly at your throbbing sex.
You whined, arching your hips, your toes curling and flexing, something Clark found cute. He chuckled to himself, trailing his free hand along the back of one of your thighs.
Bruce’s hand rose up and grabbed your wrists, he pulled them away to gently stop you. He knew he wanted to cum inside of you.
You looked up at him in surprise and your eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, seeing him smiling kindly at you. Bruce pressed his lips against your forehead and chuckled.
“Are you trying to be a good girl now?” he asked touching the corner of the tape on your mouth.
You sniffled and nodded, moaning when Clark pulled his fingers out to trail down and rub into your pearlling clit.
He smiled, “Alright,” he whispered, “This is going to hurt-“ he said ripping off the tape before he finished his own sentence.
You yelped and hissed.
“Sorry baby girl,” he apologised.
Bruce then leant back against the pillows and watched you succumb to pleasure from Clarks speedy fingers. Your bound hands laid flat on Bruce’s chest, steading you from falling. Your fingers brushed and rubbed along his hairy chest.
Bruce cupped your waist and held you firm as he gazed at you showing your curious exploration. It was then he realised, you were touching some of his scars, covered by hair. Your eyes were growing softer...glassy...he couldn’t believe his luck...you looked the same as you did when you kissed him after your mothers death. If only he knew this was some sort of trance, a head space you were in all those years ago, he would’ve fucked you then.
Clark slid his fingers out of your and licked them clean. The pair, rolled you over onto your back.
You calmly glanced back at your step-father for a moment before returning your attention to the taller man, who was in a similar state of arousal as your step-father.
“My sweet little girl...” Bruce purred before kissing you deeply, his lips locking around yours passionately. Finally you found yourself leaning closer and meeting his same force. The wet sounds of your mouth and moans clouded any remaining sanity left in your mind. Your bound arms found their way around his neck, and he continued kissing you.
Clark waited patiently, knowing that he would have the soon enough, and watched as his friend lovingly cradled his step-daughter, continuing the hungry attentions. You were unable to resist kissing him back just as fiercely.
Soon your tongues came into the dance, with Bruce quickly gaining dominance, a sweet whine escaping you.
Clark smiled, and began to rub his shaft slightly. Bruce pulled away and pushed your bound hands off his neck. He shuffled your face to the side, pushing you to Clarks arms.
With bold confidence, you pushed up onto your knees and laid your loud hands behind his neck, pressing your lips to his. He playfully growled as your tongues fought, you lost and he hummed happily, eagerly exploring your sweet little mouth, his arms tightening around your body.
After a few more long moments of the passionate kiss, he broke it before licking up the strand of saliva that bridged your panting tongues. He grinned at you. You smiled and stared at him for a moment before looking down shyly. He saw this demure action and smirked.
“What’s wrong princess, still scared?” he asked softly, nuzzling your cheek. You continued looking down shyly. You had thought of asking Bruce who was watching you both, what your mother would have thought of what he was doing to his step-daughter, but you had no doubt that he had already thought of that.
Bruce cupped your waist and lowered his lips to your shoulders. His erection pushed against the swell of your ass.
Carefully you were pushed back onto the mattress. Bruce came up to put your head in his lap, languidly stroking your hair and cheeks as Clark rubbed your thighs. The man you had admired for so long spread them, eyeing your shuddering sex hungrily. Your body froze up, stiffening as it sunk in what was truly coming you squirmed around, pressing your knees together. You looked up at Clark pleadingly.
He sighed, disappointed. He leant behind him, reaching for the duct tape....was he going to duct tape your legs spread wide.
You panicked, “Are you doing this because I did not accept your marriage offer?”
“No.” he paused and didn’t grab the tape at all. He leant down and softly, kissed your lips chastely. Bruce leant down sand cupped the back of your knees, pulling them up and spreading them wide.
You shivered.
Clark touched your cunt gently and spread you open again. His face pushed forward, leaning in and licked from the bottom to the top of your slit. You had a sharp gasping intake as you felt the gentle licking there and you pushed his head away gently. Clark leaned back in and continued to lick you, lapping at the sweet wet with his thick tongue, resisting as you pushed at his head – although your pushes were fairly weak.
“You’re not being punished,” Bruce repeatedly assured you as if he read your mind, stroking your cheeks. Clark continued to lap at you.
“We just both think this would be a bit of....encouragement for you to stay baby,” Bruce purred, tweaking one of your nipples playfully.
You grizzled, “To st-stay?” your hips jerked a little as Clark sucked harder on your clit, your legs still held wide open by Bruce’s strong hands.
“Honey,” Clark murmured into your cunt, staring up at you with eyes that were mixed with lust, adoration and worship, “You don’t need to go to college when you have me and your daddy to heel you happy.”
Your voice caught in your throat, you couldn’t believe it...this was why? To keep you away from going to school? You bit your bottom lip. You would’ve been devastatingly hurt but with his tongue slipping inside and licking deep into your whole, you tossed your head backwards onto Bruce’s shoulder, crying out as a orgasm waved through your body.
“Clark, you can take her first,” Bruce softly granted.
“We can look at that sweet asshole another day and then,” your step father licked the shell of your ears whispering, “You’ll be allowed to fuck two big cocks at once down there.”
Clark got on his knees between your legs and Bruce steadied you, taking your hands into his own and squeezing them reassuringly before he let go. His large hands massaged your breasts, and reached down to rub your clit slowky as you felt Clark position himself, gently rubbing your slit with his tip. It had opened up to him through all of the loving attention, and was glistening with wetness.
Your eyes widened.
“Don’t… we shouldn’t…” you whispered, “Y-youre not wearing a condom.”
Bruce’s hands tightened around your wrists and lifted them pulling them backward to hook on his own neck. Your chest was so pushed up.
“It’s okay baby, we don’t need a condom,” Clark moaned, caressing your cheeks before his hands travelled down to your sides. He smiled kindly at you, and you found herself smiling back faintly, looking into his ice-blue eyes. You shivered as he slowly lowered himself, and the head of his cock gently nudged at your slit. You tensed a little, but felt your step-father massage your clit.
You gasped and arched a little when Clark penetrated you, and your step-father continued stroking you in a languid yet firm manner, his touches did much to soothe the passage and help you relax. You looked up at your Bruce for a moment, then back at Clark. Bruce tenderly caressed your cheeks and arms, while Clark's hands stroked along your sides. He was moving slowly, letting your get used to his girth, for he was almost as thick as his best friend. The wetness made it possible for him to move quite smoothly within you, and it was also so inviting.
It was tight and yes it was uncomfortable but with the support of Bruce’s hand, in no time, he was sheathed fully, and you stared up at him quietly feeling his balls pressed into your soft ass. He was heavy inside you, an unexpected pressure. The tip poked the sponge of your womb.
There was a few frightful seconds where all of you were silent save for your soft breathing. Bruce glanced at the tape, prepared to hear your screaming again...but it didnt come. And then Clark smiled lovingly down at you, comforting you at that moment, before leaning in and kissing your cheek.
“How do you feel?” he asked. You shyly huffed even more, but kept your eyes on him. You couldn’t decide whether to smile or grimace.
“I don't know. I... feel very full...” you replied softly, feeling Bruce’s fingers brush along your forehead.
Clark lifted your ankles up onto his shoulders and took a deep breath.
“The best part is yet to come, my sweet angel,” Bruce promised. Clark smiled, and began to gyrate his hips, sliding his shaft in and out of your tight cunt in a languid manner. The reaction was immediate. His cock dragged along your sensitive walls, and Bruce smiled as he watched his sweet little step-daughter squirm around in pleasure. Soon enough, he himself would be doing that to you.
Clark released a deep groan, clearly in bliss as he thrust into you. His speed was tempered and gentle, languorous, making sure that the length of his dick dragged along your gspot with each thrust to create that glorious friction. He wanted your first time to be something deep and tender. And it was working. You hissed and flexed your back into Bruce feeling Clarks entire cock within you as you clenched hard. It had hurt a little at first, but there was no denying the pleasure to be had, and the gentle caresses were doing much to heighten your experience.
“Sh-shit shit shit, oh my god, Clark! Clark I’m-”
Clarks gentle lovemaking pushed you towards your glorious shouting orgasm, and you cried out when you hit it, arching up against him, clenching around him almost painfully. You had ever felt anything so wonderful in your whole life! Bruce smiled as he saw this, and leaned down to place kisses along his mewling step-daughter’s face, massaging your breasts as he did so.
“Isn’t it wonderful, babygirl? Doesn’t it feel so good?” Bruce asked warmly. All you could do was nod. Clark shot you a charming smile, thrusting more firmly now, and he whispered your name when he finally came. Your clenching drew it out, and multiple shots of his seed squirted deep inside of you, filling your up.
Clark placed firm kisses along your face, remaining within your hot pussy for a few more moments. You turned your face towards him, nuzzling him back, as your lips peppered his cheeks, Clark started grinning happily. A few moments passed, some tender caresses, before Bruce chuckled and shifted. Clark looked up at him and smiled, sliding out of you a little too quickly. You whimpered pitifully at the stinging sensation of being emptied.
Clark laid beside you on his side as Bruce moved down the bed to inspect the mess his friend had created. Clark kept his eyes on you, he shot you another reassuring smile before propping your head up with his arm. He laid there relaxed and enjoying the waving endorphins made from his orgasm, still reeling from the pleasure that your sweet noises and tight pussy had given him.
Bruce gently rolled you onto your belly. Your cheek still pressed into the pillow made of Clarks bicep.
“On your knees, baby, stick that ass up for Daddy…” Bruce whispered. You huffed and wiggled your hips up, propping you up on your knees. It was a lovely sight, and he rubbed your behind, kneading the cheeks lovingly as he glanced at your swollen and glistening sex.
“Good girl,” he rumbled, patting your back softly.
You moaned softly, knowing what your step-father was about to do. At this point, you had given up on fighting off the two men, especially because it felt so good. You rested your head against Clark and sighed, staring at his eyes that gazed you lovingly. With is other hand, Clark stroked your face and hair softly as you awaited for your step-father to take you, your heart thundered with anticipation.
Bruce took a moment to admire the glorious vision before him. Your sweet pussy glistened, dripping and dribbling out the creamy white Clark had squirted deep inside. Your outer lips were swollen from the recent coupling you had. Your rear end glowed under the light of the bedroom lamp, looking so plump and inviting.
“You’re so gorgeous, princess. How Clark and I resisted you for this long, god only knows,” Bruce chuckled and rubbed your bum.
You gave out a soft but contented sigh before he was pressing the head of his needy pole against his your slit, rubbing it up and down the opening a few times. You moaned softly and squirmed a little, but made no real attempt to flee.
Bruce grabbed your hips and gave a strong thrust, his cock sliding inside of you to the base with little effort despite your tightness. You whimpered out softly, in slight pain but more in surprise, and looked over your shoulder at your Step-father again.
Clark wolfishly grinned at you, as Bruce’s hips immediately thrusting back and forth. He pounded into you, hard and fast, your body quivering under him.
Clark’s lovemaking had been languorous and gentle, more than suitable for your first time. But Bruce’s way of taking you was savage and primal. Despite it...you found yourself enjoying this as well. It was rough and deeply bruising. You would be able to feel it tomorrow.
Bruce was not hurting you, it was not unbearable agony as he slammed his hips fiercely. Clark watched with half-lidded eyes, listening to your whines and touching your face every now and then as if to reassure you.
Bruce punched his cock into you with the ferocity of an animal in heat. You were so wonderfully tight and hot that it was impossible to just hold back.
“F-Fuck, Daddy!!!”
The way you responded to him, arching towards him and making small sounds of pleasure and mewls of pain only spurred him on even more. His heavy balls slapped against the back of your thighs, and you strangled around him with your walls. He gave out a low growl as he cummed, creaming deep inside.
You whimpered out another heightened, ‘Daddy!’ as your body quivered, your teeth chattering just slightly.
You bit your lip almost hard enough to cause it to bleed as you hit another orgasm, your eyes rolled back and clenching around him hard, trapping his cock inside with your tightness.
You looked at your step-father over your shoulder as he continued thrusting in you, his cock remained erect for a few moments before slowly becoming flaccid. You looked over at Clark then back at Bruce, whimpering out 'Daddy' again as you felt cum dribble down your opening. He stayed within your cunt for a while, panting as he relaxed his muscles. Smirking, he pulled out of your tightness and stroked your rump.
“Good girl baby...”
You remained on your knees for several more moments, cum still dribbling out a little as he traced his fingers along the firm curve of your rear end. What you had been through was unbelievable. You had just been dominated and fucked by the two men you cared most about in the world...one of them was your step-father. It seemed almost too impossible to believe, like it all had to been some sick dream- any moment you would wake up to find yourself alone, dressed, inside your own bed....But did you want this to be a dream?
The more you thought, the less sick it seemed to be...morally it was wrong...but at the end of the day, you weren’t related and Bruce was sure to take care of you just like he always had along with your own mother. Your mother might not have approved if she was alive...but...there was nothing she could do now.
And Clark was just as caring and understanding of your passions....So both clearly loved you, very much....
You felt Clark caress your cheek once more, and you looked to him as your hips fell down limp. He offered you a smile before leaning over to press his lips to your forehead.
“You did so well darlin’.”
You shyly smiled, feeling Bruce lay down behind you.
You felt Bruce slide something cold between your wrists and slice through the pink tape.
Your eyes fluttered. You could hear Bruce put that sharp object most likely a knife in his bed side drawer.
He cupped your wrists and gently massaged them, kissing the raw area. He then scooped you up into his arms, holding you close, as if he wanted to rock you to sleep. You rolled onto your back and looked between them. They were two content lions gazing down at the sweet kitten in their bed. Both of them held pleased but loving expressions on their faces, and you smiled shyly a little and buried your nose in into the blue sweat soaked sheets. Under the gentle embrace and caresses, you closed your eyes.
You felt one of them, you didn’t know or care who, pull up a duvet, covering your quivering body. The men sighed happily at one another as you snuggled sweetly between them.
It was a fact to acknowledge with their cum growing dry on your thighs how they now would never let you go. They would take you in the morning, and whenever either of them pleased from then on. You were there’s...you belonged to them, and they would always do everything to prove their desire for you. You fell asleep in their embrace, you pressed your face into Clarks chest, while you pressed your backside into Bruce’s hips. snuggled up to both of them, while their affectionate caresses and whispers lulled you to sleep.
★★★
When morning arrived it was still pitch black thanks to the roll down tinted glass windows.
Bruce’s grey his eyes cracked awake slowly, to the sounds of your soft snoring. Your soft cheek was pressed against his chest after the night of shuffling you must’ve done in your sleep. ‘What a wonderfully sweet thing to wake up to,’ he thought, smiling as he traced his fingertips gently along your other cheek. He looked to his left at the big bulk of a man under the covers.
Clark was still sleeping, his arm was covering your hip. Your plump rear end was against his stomach, and Bruce smiled at you both.
Your sweet drooling face stirred slightly as your cheek was caressed, but you remained asleep. Being cushioned and cradled in the warmth of two big men had surprisingly helped you to sleep well, as you had been so comforted by the obvious affection they had shown you. If they didn’t care about you, they would have simply raped you bloody and never paid mind to your pleasure they never would’ve focused on your feelings and overall care.
Clark loved you and wanted to be your husband, he had been serious when he asked for your hand in marriage. It was in the plan but Bruce knew Clark wanted to ask ages ago...
And Bruce loved you too, he wanted your utmost happiness but he desired your overall safety and company. If you left for college he wouldn’t know when he’d see you again...if ever...considering you held no real “blood” obligation to him.
Clark and he were good friends, and sharing you had been a odd thought at first, but last night proved that it would work out well between the three of you. And it was very comfortable, and would continue to be comfortable – after all, both of them wanted your happiness, love and companionship.
Bruce pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Wake up, baby girl, it’s daddy...” he whispered into your ear, gently nibbling along your earlobe. Your eyelids fluttered open and you whimpered softly, a bit disoriented at first as was common on waking up in a place so different to your bedroom but the disorientation faded as you rubbed your eyes and turned your head upwards a bit to look up at the eyes of your doting step-father smiling softly down at you.
“Good morning, Daddy...” you said softly, wiping the sleep away from your eyes and blinking a few times as you felt a hand caress along your hip, you didn’t know who it belonged to, but did that even matter?
“Good morning, sweet angel... Did you sleep alright?” he asked, caressing your hair. Clark stirred but did not wake. You shyly nodded. Last night was beyond taboo and though you were not entirely angry or disgusted, it would take a bit getting used to.
“I am glad...” Bruce replied before he chuckled softly and fondled your side. He looked over at Clark and smiled.
“...Will you marry him?” he whispered, kissing your cheek. You stared at him for a few moments before nodding slowly. You did not see why not – Clark was a good man and you had no interest in anyone else.
Bruce nodded, smiling happily. He was ecstatic that you had accepted Clark’s hand, and now you would be truly a family inside Wayne’s manor.
“What about you, Daddy?” you asked softly as your step-father’s hand gently caressed your side, “....Don’t you want me anymore,” your eyes glanced away in embarrassment considering how pathetic you sounded asking....
“Mmm,” he pecked the tip of your nose, “Clark and I already discussed this...I would like to keep our closeness when you are wed... Clark and I have shared many passions in the past...towards each other and it does not bother him.”
Your eyes started to widen. You didn’t know your step-dad was just as sexually active with men.
“He really agrees to this? You two... have no problem with... sharing?” you whispered as you rolled over onto your back to gain a more accurate gaze upon Bruce.
“Not at all...” he chuckled, “We are too good a pair of friends to fight over something wonderful like this as spectacular as you.” He stated.
You smiled and looked down shyly. He looked over at Clark once more and smirked almost deviously.
He reached out and playfully thumbed your nipples.
“Baby girl, it looks like Clark is a heavy sleeper...how about you go and wake him up for me?” His tone was seductive, and low. You could see from the corner of your eyes the two hardening peaks growing out of the bed sheets.
Bruce pushed his side down and cupped himself, using his enclosed first like a sight hole.
“C’mon baby, go wake up your other daddy,” he groaned.
You gasped and flushed even more as you stated at your step-father for several moments before carefully crawling over to Clark again.
You placed a gentle kisses along his face, saving his lips for last. Your hand caressed along his smooth chest, slowly making its way down to his morning organ. His nipples were given attention, your fingers teasing over the pink nubs and making them taut. Your palm felt along the toned muscles of his abdomen, and stroked the coarse dark hair above his cock, teasing your fingers along the treasure trail. The thin hairs had started as a thin, tapering line several inches below his navel, and spread out gradually to the thatch over his cock.
Bruce watched calmly, not at all bothered by his friend’s nakedness. He did not stare at Clark either, he just watched with interest at what you, his step-daughter was doing. You had such a lovely soft hand. You slowly patted the neither hairs as you started sucking on Clark’s angry red tip.
You flattened your tongue and looked over, making full eye contact with Bruce While he jerked off languishingly. He smirked and winked at you.
“Suck his cock babygirl, suck Papa’s cock.”
Papa...Daddy...oh god...what were you getting yourself into.
You leant your face down, filling your cheeks with the tip of his pink cock tip. Your tongue raised around the skin and flicked under the folds. You tried not to think about the smell but the taste alone. It was bitter, salty and a little tangy.
“M-mmh...” Clark let out a soft noise of pleasure, face blissfully slack. His manhood stirred and began to rise a bit, the touches arousing him even when he slept.
“Clarkkkkk...” Bruce cooed in a soft purr, gently touching his shoulder while you lapped at his foreskin, and Bruce started growing aroused, wanting to stick himself inside of you as he had a grand view of your little cunt, dried with flakes of white on your skin.
At the mention of his name, the man stirred and opened his eyes, smiling a bit, raising a hand to lazily wipe the sleep from his eyes.
“A-ah...Good morning...” he said, blurrily looking down at what you were doing. You smiled sweetly and placed a gentle kiss on his tip as you brought him to full attention.
“Clark?” you asked softly.
“Yes sweetheart?...hngh...” he shuddered, shifting a bit, his cock rising further. Bruce shivered, running his fingertips along your rear.
“I will be your wife,” You whispered softly. He tilted his head, and a wide grin came to his face. Hooking one arm around your arm he tugged you up to him to abandon you morning blowjob. He sealed his lips over yours in a gentle kiss. When you parted, he purred.
“Thank you sweet girl, I vow to always cherish you like last night and every encounter we’ve met.” His words made you giggle happily, as you had no real doubt of his respect for you.
He heard the fwapping sound of Bruce masturbating, watching you.
“Have you talked Bruce?” he added.
Your lashes fluttered.
“I accept him as well. I...I will stay home. College can wait or I can try online courses...You can both have me,” You whispered. Bruce ran a fingertip along your slit. You shivered and moaned, wiggling your rear end at Bruce as you kissed Clark again, your hand returned to slowly pumping his engorged organ.
Bruce smiled, he rubbed your slit gently and lazily, feeling the flesh quiver a bit and begin to slicken up. Clark moaned softly into your lips and his hand moved down, cupping one of your breasts and carefully kneading it, plucking at your nipples. You gave out a soft whine of pleasure and looked at Clark for a moment before looking back at Bruce.
“Daddy...” You pouted, “...stop teasing me.” You reached out to his cock with your other hand. In each palm you held two thick cocks at the same time and went about squeezing and licking them like a game....unwittingly teasing them both to release. The men both gradually sat up on their elbows. Before either of them could cum however, you let their cocks go and sat back, facing them with a childish smirk, biting your lip.
If they wanted to be depraved, you could be too...you wondered if they’d tie and gag you again. Would they pushed you around manhandle and humiliate you again?...a real sensational thrill soaked your bones at the thought. What a fantastic opportunity to test that theory...
You didn’t leave that room for probably three whole days except to use the master bathroom...
Alfred decided not to intervene.. after all it was Master Wayne he was paid by, not you.
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walpu · 30 days
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Hi yes hello first of all: the love I have for your Aventurine works cannot be quantified, it’s like my current main source of serotonin
With that being said, hear me out: Aventurine w/ a soft dom partner that can AND will do their absolute best to make him always feel loved. That’s it that’s my request, ty in advance and have a wonderful day 🕺✨
THANK YOU SO MUCH AND SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE THIS
I feel like I really need to write something soft fir him after 2.1 💀
Aventurine x soft!dom reader
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notes - gn!reader, nsfw, subby!Aven, no beta
I think I've mentioned it in my previous nswf post but I feel like Aven would be super into body worshipping and would melt if you kiss all over his body.
Start by kissing his pretty face, his eyelids, his cheeks, then his lips. Go down to his neck and press a soft kiss to his "tattoo". Before he gets to react, move to hus chest, kissing and sucking on his oh so sensitive nipples.
Call him pretty, beautiful, priceless, tell him how you love the sounds he makes, how you love him.
Oh how overwhelmingly good it feels for him to be loved by you. Sometimes he feels like he doesn't deserve it, that it's too good to be true.
No one has ever been so soft with him during intimacy, yet here you are, putting his needs over yours and going out of your way to make him feel cherished.
He would gladly overthink it but he has no time to do so, not when you look at him like that, not when you caress his body like that.
Even if the two of you get rough and he gets overestimated, you're here to coo over him, to kiss away his tears.
And aeons, sometimes he wishes for you to be just a little cruel, a little selfish. He's used to that, he can handle that! But this overwhelming love?? It feels so good and yet so alien.
Give him time he's a sucker for that and he just needs time to adjust. And therapy.
Even when you give him commands you're so soft about it, saying please, calling him a good boy, and it makes him feel sooooo weak for you.
He'll either melt into a puddle, clinging closer to you, asking you to touch him more more more or he'll get a bit bratty, trying to provoke a reaction. Depends on his mood really.
I would recommend getting a bit playful with him when he's being a brat but still showering him with love.
Can imagine him daring you to make him do something and then crumbling completely when you just chuckle and pull him for a deep but loving kiss while your hands roam his body and press all the right buttons, touching every sensitive spot. He'll do everything you want after that trust.
Would probably lose his mind if you are being rough and caring at the same time. When sex is not vanilla at all but you're still talking to him like he's the most precious person ever and kiss him everywhere you can reach and praise him. Like!!! The contrast!!!!
Adores aftercare. It means a lot to him that you're here with him when he's so vulnerable, that the whole loving and caring act doesn't end when you're satisfied and don't need anything from him.
Would love to fall asleep in your arms after all that. After all, you're his safe heaven.
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✨Masterlist✨
This is the masterlist for The Californicationist's Tumblr & AO3 texts.
All works should be considered 18+ only. MDNI - no exceptions.
CALL OF DUTY
Novel-Length Works
Gunslinger Price/Reader - AO3 - 100k - Complete You open your home as a safehouse for the 141, and your relationship with John Price unfolds into an epic love story.
Guardian Konig/FemaleOC - AO3 - 45k - Complete Konig, inexplicably working with SpecGru, clears out a Konni base and finds a hostage with amnesia, only to fall hopelessly in love with her.
Guile & Guilt Soap/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - Complete Your best friend has warned you to stay far, far away from her younger brother — infamous party boy, Sergeant Johnny MacTavish. However, when she asks you to be her maid of honor in her wedding, you and Johnny end up closer than you ever expected.
The Sin-Eater Price/Reader - Co-Author: @vampirekilmer - AO3 - WIP Captain John Price is a loving husband, a dedicated soldier, and a good man. But, that’s not all he is. Underneath his controlled exterior lurks something dark, something hungry, and something wholly inhuman. You’re his only solace during his wrath, and only you can consume the sin from his shifts.
One-Shot Works
Gauntlet (Kinktober 2023) [External Post] Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 58k - Complete TW: too many to list here 😈 A collection of 30 kink-focused one-shots
Budapest Price/Reader - AO3 - 1.2k - Complete TW: major character death, explicit sex Captain John Price comes home to you a changed man.
Going Home Gaz/Nova - AO3 - 4.3k - Complete TW: explicit sex, voyeurism Gaz and Nova spend their leave together at his childhood home. This is set in the Gunslinger universe.
Gravitational Shift Price/FemaleOC - AO3 - 2k - Complete TW: Space AU, includes the Force from the Star Wars fandom, force-bond sex Captain Price senses a disturbance in the force, and when he bonds with her, he decides he's never letting go.
Ground & Pound Konig/FemaleOC - AO3 - 5.8k - Complete TW: NC/CNC, bondage, violence Konig's ex-girlfriend shows up to the base, and Konig loses his absolute mind over her...and takes things too far.
Growl Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.5k - Complete TW: pegging, femdom When you agreed to come over to John Price’s house for drinks, you had no idea it would escalate so damn swiftly.
The Orchard Price/Reader - AO3/Tumbr - 3.8k - Complete TW: CNC, primal play, bondage John Price chases you through the woods to make sure you learn your lesson.
The Fisherman's Knot Price/FemaleOC - AO3 - 2.9k - Complete ABO AU - Captain John Price rescues a pretty Alpha from a kayaking accident in his fishing cove, his body betrays his gentle nature.
The Honest Man Mace/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.5k - Complete TW: Breeding kink Mace tries to convince you to build a life with him again, especially if it means adding another baby into the mix.
The Missed Deadline Gaz/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.7k - Complete TW: Virginity loss You and Kyle had a virginity pact.
The Fourth of July Alex Keller/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 3.5k - Complete TW: Blow job You and Alex get a little carried away in the pool house.
The Fox & the Hound Soap/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 4.5k - WIP(?) TW: Literal porn, exhibition Your first porno shoot doesn't go exactly to plan. Your co-star, Johnny "Dangerous" MacTavish, sets his sights on you and makes you his personal project. (Labeled WIP because I'm considering a Chapter 02 moment).
The Green Light Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 1.8k - Complete TW: Dubcon/CNC John Price comes home with only one thing on his mind: you and those bright green panties. Even though you're sound asleep, he just can't stop himself.
The Dealer’s Choice 141/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 4.4k - Complete TW: Gangbang The 141 are stranded and you’re the safe house manager. You have fun playing strip poker.
The Simple Mistake Ghost/Soap - AO3 - 1.4k - Complete Soap and Ghost have to hide together, injured and desperate in a shelter until their rescue party arrives.
The Devil's Summer Konig/Named Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 3k - Complete TW: Rape, non-consent, assault, corpses, violence, named reader A tall, foreign stranger comes to town with his masked crew of bandits. They rob the train station and the bank, but the big one… he has his sights set on a different sort of prize: you.
The Advent Calendar Ghost/Soap - AO3/Tumblr - 1.9k - Complete Soap gave Ghost an advent calendar this year. It's a little more romantic than he realized.
The False Alarm 141/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 1.9k - Complete TW: Gangbang Cleaning the pole in the firehouse was hard work, but someone had to do it. But, when your harness broke and you were left dangling there, free to use for a firehouse full of men… you were in charge of cleaning a lot more poles than you bargained for.
There’s more, but I ran out of room! I’m trying to figure out how to fix it. Sorry 😣
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milliesdiary · 1 year
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐒
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𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; you’re a general's pants-wearing daughter: a skilled fighter, headstrong, and teased by others for not being feminine. during a sparring session with your friend, aemond, you two make a bet: if you win, he has to show you his eye. if he wins, you have to wear a dress — and kiss him.
𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; aemond being aemond, confessions, just some good old sweetness ✨
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; thank you so much to the amazing person who asked for this :”) i hope i could do it justice! to be as inclusive as possible, i do not mention the reader’s father’s descent. i also do not specify her skin tone, body type, eye/hair color, or hair texture ♡ 
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍’𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄.
Not like any other woman, at least. You’re strong-willed. Unshakeable. Not as naïve. 
As a child, you made mud pies, climbed trees, and kicked boys who made fun of you for acting unladylike. You would return to your parents with grime under your nails, grass stains on your pants, and a twinkle in your eyes. Blood never bothered you; you could get slashed open, bruised, and filthy, yet still make it home. 
Maybe it was because of your father — a stubborn general hardened by war, with a sharp way of speaking and a stern sentiment. He taught you the way of the sword at the age of 9, and instilled you with a sense of discipline. Not once did he try to force you into the stereotypes of being a woman; the fancy clothes, the manners, the expectation to give birth at any chance possible. 
That’s just not you. 
You're not the kind of girl who crumbles beneath the weight of insults, who loses her mind, who cries. You give the same treatment to those who hurt you. You are Bloody Mary, the venomous spider, the wicked snake. You are a creature that can wander through flames without getting burned.
So no, you are not like the other women.
And the townsfolk are always willing to remind you.
The second you step onto the training grounds, all eyes are on you, and there’s an intense discomfort at how they look you up and down.
They are taking in your appearance; your black flowy cape, leather pants, and the tunic cinched at your waist to match. It’s not the style they are used to seeing, comprised of silk dresses and chiffon gowns. 
People gossip about how you could steal the hearts of every man in Westeros if you just put on a skirt — if you sat with your legs crossed, prim and proper. If you smiled more often. 
“Such a waste of a pretty girl,” they whisper.
How stupid.
You shrug away their stares and try to focus on something else.
It’s a beautiful day, perfect for sparring; the November sunlight veils the world in a golden shawl, and the cool air is sweet as a mandarin. The temperature has risen enough so that you can train without getting numb or going home with an earache from the wind.
You’re more than ready for a fight, to get your hands soiled and feel sweat bead down your face. 
Walking over to a table where swords and blades of all kinds are spread along the surface, you feel that familiar rush of excitement. You’re about to grab a dagger until you hear someone call your name. 
It’s Ser Criston. He walks over, armor clicking with every stride and gleaming in the autumn sun, only to stop beside you. “I was waiting for when I would see you again. Have you come to train?” 
“Of course,” you say simply. “Did you expect any less?”
“Maybe not,” the knight replies, an accepting expression on his face. He knows that you enjoy playing dirty. 
Luckily, you and Ser Cristin get along. He is outside a lot of the time helping to train the others, so it was not unusual that you both talked from time to time. You aren’t sure if he is bothered by your lack of femininity, but he never mentions it, so you do not mind him.
You focus your attention back to the blades, picking up a particularly sharp sword. You weigh it in your hands; the grey metal is dense and heavy, brand new. Your reflection stares back at you in the steel. Ser Criston catches your hum of satisfaction. 
“That sword was gilded just days ago. A work of art,” He nods.
“Indeed it is,” you agree. Then you smile knowingly at him. “Is there anyone I can spar with?”
Ser Criston responds with a curt nod. Admiration dances in his brown eyes; he’s definitely not like the others. “Plenty.” 
Eager, you follow Ser Criston to the patch of land reserved for sword fighting. People are gathered in a circle around two men who are already sparring; the crowd cheers, made up of men who are desperate to make a good impression and women who have come to watch.
You glance at the pair of individuals who are currently engaged in a duel, following their sharp steps as they parry each other’s hits. You remain near the back of the crowd, bringing the tip of your sword to the ground and resting both hands on the hilt. 
You’re trying to act casual — but you’re actually itching for your turn. Impatient.
The fight turns out to be pretty boring. You’re able to guess every move before it’s done and correct every miscalculated block inside your head. It might be unfair to judge them so harshly; you’re a skilled fighter and have trained for years. The advantage is yours. 
But you also can’t bring yourself to care. These are the same men who boast about their power despite being weak.
You’re genuinely relieved when one of the men knocks the other down, leveling their sword at their opponent’s face. The people around you clap for awhile, and then the crowd slowly breaks apart as some leave to continue their duties. 
It’s fine; you don’t need the validation of a crowd during a match.
“Alright,” you say gruffly, ripping your sword from the dirt and skirting through the gaps of people, stepping onto the sandy soil of the sparring area. You turn to face a few of the trainees’ expectant faces. They are waiting for you to choose someone, though all of them seem pathetic. Might as well get it over with.
“Would you like to duel?” You finally ask a man toward the front.
For a second, he remains still. And then he smiles; fucking smirks like he’s a serpent and you’re a lamb ensnared between its teeth. He thinks you’re an easy opponent, all because you’re a woman. 
Beating him is going to feel good, you think. Beating all of them.
Balancing the sword in a hand, you spit into the dirt just to spite him — which is successful in making multiple people cringe. Good. You have to bite back a smile and prepare yourself for your opponent’s first strike. 
And you were right, of course.
They’re all useless, each more powerless than the last. There’s no challenge, no threat. Not even child’s play with any of them. You have more than half of your competitors on their asses before they even get an opportunity to attack, making every clang of your sword against another seem meaningless.
You ought to take pride in it, thinking back to their breathy chuckles as they whispered about how deluded you were. How unwomanly.
But you don’t. You don't feel prideful, self satisfied, or any emotion of fulfillment. It’s too easy. 
The blows from your adversary are repetitive, almost as if he is rehearsing a list of strategies. The movements are easy to predict, giving you the upper hand. It’s not difficult to knock him on the ground, sweeping his legs out from beneath him with a blow that you wish he would have jumped over.
There is someone who definitely would have dodged it, though.
The enigma, the cunning raven, the Prince — Aemond Targaryen. The one man who doesn’t judge you or stare condescendingly. The only person who you consider an equal, an acquaintance. 
Aemond is a man of honor. His eye is the shade of lavender, and every syllable that falls from his tongue is sliced apart by the sharp quirk of his lips. High cheekbones, fair skin, an eyepatch making a home over a scar that sits where his eyelid once was. 
A dark serpent. 
Just as you struggle with your identity, he does, too. You are aware of Aemond’s lack of restraint, lack of faith, lack of fear, and his internal conflict. You know why the man is the way he is.
Aemond had told you what happened once, after you had finished having a nice conversation with his nephews. It’s tragic: when a person doesn't feel valued as a member of a family, they develop a sort of outcast mentality. Childhood experiences of neglect paves the way for lifelong isolation, and as a result, Aemond withdrew. He started spending time alone.
But out of every person in the world, he chose to keep a spot open for you. It’s an honor, really.
The man you are sparring with gives in, standing to his feet with a grunt of humiliation and shooting you a glare. You return it with one of your own, ready to pick another opponent, and then—
“You have been busy, I see,” A familiar voice says.
You turn toward the sound of it, the lull and the accent — only to be met with Aemond standing in the front of the crowd. You size him up, sword dangling at your side. 
Aemond’s arms are crossed behind his back in a casual fashion, head held high with interest. His white hair is in a half-up half-down style, the ends flowing over his broad shoulders like a silk scarf.
“My Prince.” There’s no stopping the grin that blooms on your lips. As embarrassing as it is to admit, you always find excitement in his presence. “Dare I ask how long you have been watching?” 
“Long enough.” Aemond is silent as he scans you up and down; there’s not a single streak of dirt on you, nor a single cut. He takes notice. “Pray tell: how many men have you made fools of?” 
“I don’t know,” you dramatically sigh, acting indifferent. You retreat from the center of the sparring ground to stand in front of him. “I have not had the luxury to count. I was too busy winning.”
Aemond exhales a sharp breath from his nose — his way of conveying amusement — and slightly tilts his head. “It seems that they have not prepared themselves for a woman of your caliber.” 
It’s a compliment; a bit cheeky, yes, but a compliment nonetheless. It has you rocking back and forth on your heels in anticipation. “A woman of my caliber? I must say, My Prince, I am flattered.” 
“I would not say it unless it were true.” 
“Well, if it is of any comfort, you are not like any man I have ever known," you jibe. "You're like a character in a folktale. Someone from a history book.”  
"The prince, I presume." 
"No, you're the dragon. A magnificently evil dragon." Your tone becomes teasing. “How could anyone lead a regular life with a beast like you?”
“I should inquire the same, My Lady.”
“You just don’t understand a woman that dares to be different, that’s all.”
Aemond lets out a simple ‘hmm’ at that. You slap him in the arm playfully and he doesn’t flinch. He only graces you with the tiniest smirk.
The prince does not enjoy being touched, though the aversion seems to disappear when it comes to you. He can tell; he knows by how he does not scowl at the idea of your hand on his shoulder, or cringe at the feeling of your arm brushing against his. You do not give off negative energy. 
Perhaps this is why you have remained in contact with each other; you don’t judge one another for the things you are and for the things you can’t be. Somewhere, deep down, you both think the same thing: take me as I am, or watch my back as I go.
You know of Aemond’s true nature, and he realizes yours.
Much like him, you cannot be picked and thrown away like a flower or an old manuscript. You are a hurricane: ferocious, unflinching, and authentic. A dagger that will slice through the flesh of anyone who dares to cross you.
Though he will not publicly admit it, your spunkiness delights him.
“Come then,” Aemond says. 
You’re confused at his words — unsure of what he’s talking about — before he saunters to the center of the sparring circle. He brandishes his sword from a holster wrapped around his hip, the metal screeching into the air. “We have yet to train together. Demonstrate your skills to me.” 
It’s true. In the years you’ve known him, you have never once challenged each other. You know what Aemond is capable of though, so it’s intimidating. It’s probably the main reason you have never asked to spar. 
Maybe it’s time to change that; you’re not about to back down from a fight. It would hurt your pride too much. 
“Fine,” you agree, slinking forward to stand before him in the training area.
There’s so much you want to know about Aemond, you notice. So much that you’d like to learn. Your gaze is focused on his face, and his eye, and then that eyepatch — and you realize that he has never showed you what’s underneath the leather.
You’ve heard the rumors: how the socket has been replaced by a sapphire, a deep, saturated blue that reflects the light at every angle. You wish so badly to see it. For him to trust you with the imperfect parts of him. 
It gives you an idea.
“I will spar with you,” you begin, maintaining a serious tone in your voice. “But only if we make a bet.” 
The look on Aemond's face changes from being neutral to intrigued. He slices the earth open by shoving his sword into the soil. “And what would that be, My Lady?”
“If I win,” you quip, “you must show me your eye.”
The silence is deafening.
Aemond frowns then. You’re scared for a second; scared that you went too far and bit off more than you could chew.
Looking back on the past can be very frustrating. You have to let it go, you want to tell his younger self, clapping him on the back. If you did that, he might get angry. Or maybe cry. Maybe you would, too. 
You open your mouth to revoke the words, yet close it just as quick, unable to get a single syllable out. 
But then he speaks.
“Then it shall be,” Aemond says firmly. He leans his weight on his sword, crossing one ankle over the other. You aren’t sure if he actually doesn’t care or if he’s just hiding his anger. He’s always been an expert at keeping his emotions at bay. “If that is what you wish.” 
Relief is a godsend in that moment. You fix your surprised expression into one that is more calm. “…And if you win?”
Aemond seems to think it over.
Finally, he decides on something; with the mischief that glints in that one eye, you know it’s going to be less than satisfactory. “I propose you wear a dress for an entire day.”  
“What? There’s no way—“
“And kiss me.”
Your mouth drops open in surprise. 
Is this how he plans on winning? By threatening you with something so strange in the hopes that you will give up before you started? Like hell you’re going to kiss him. Fuck that. “You cannot be serious.”
“But I am,” he says coolly. Taunting. 
In that moment, you consider your options. One, you could retreat. Two, you could fight him and win, effectively seeing the thing he hides most. Third, you could lose, and have to wear a dress, and…
The thought has you reeling. But, at the same time, you do not want to run away from a challenge. You never have. And never, ever will. 
You’ll just have to win.
“It is settled then,” you nod, trying to remain composed. Your voice wavers a bit; if Aemond notices, he does not comment on it.
Aemond’s mouth creeps into the slightest smile. He tears his sword from the earth and spins it in the air with a flick of his wrist. “Whenever you are ready, then,” he deadpans.
“I have been ready,” you tease, stepping sideways as you both begin to circle each other. Your footsteps are light and airy in a silent prowl, a show of the expertise your father passed to you. “Are you?” 
“The first to hold the other at sword-point wins,” Aemond states, ignoring your question. There’s a sharpness to his words as he tries to draw a reaction from you. Provoke you. “I hope you do not hold back.”
“You must think lowly of me, My Prince,” You retort. “I would never do such a thing. Are you worried that I am going to beat you at your own game?”
Aemond licks his lips, fixing you with a predatory stare; it looks as if he wants to use his canines to rip apart the air, the world, your body that stands before him.
It urges you into action.
You lunge with your sword, but Aemond knocks it to the side with ease, spinning his own in a hand and making a swipe at you.
You don’t hesitate to deflect it — once, twice, three times — before parrying another of his blows. You manage to hit Aemond’s sword particularly hard the fourth time, and you catch a glint of surprise in his eye.
You take a quick step back, before confidently transferring your blade from one hand to the other without breaking eye contact. Your head is buzzing with exhilaration.
“Did you think it would be that simple?” You grin arrogantly. “As a man who studies the way of the sword, I thought you would be more of a challenge.”
To your chagrin, Aemond doesn’t gift you with a reaction. His profile remains composed, although there is a fire in his eye; he has finally found someone who tests him. 
You are about to say something else before he lunges for you.
Aemond is fast and skilled, the swiftness of his steps impressive, with a strength in his arms that could send you to the ground if you gave him an opening. With every clash of your swords, you know he’s evaluating your endurance, your attacks, the likelihood of you slashing him with your blade.
However, Aemond is not attempting to boast his power; not like the other trainees who argue like idiots about whose sword is the sharpest or who has the best balance. That’s what you like about him.
Aemond’s jaw is set and confidence keeps his chin held high, even as you deliver another strike to his blade. Your attention is drawn to the way his knuckles are white from the grip on his sword; veins protrude from the pretty skin of his hands, emphasizing the slender length of his fingers.
Focus.
Strike. Block. Dodge. Slash again. You score another hit, but Aemond follows it immediately with a jab at your chest, which has you losing your balance. You respond with a stab at his side, though he dodges it. 
This dance of blades feels like it lasts forever; if it were anyone else, you probably would have won by now. Every second feels like a minute, each one longer than the last. 
Just before a leap, Aemond tightens his grip on the weapon’s hilt. Before you can react and fix your stance, the sword swings towards your feet, his speed and skill working together to knock you off-balance. You land on your back in the dirt, your blade flying somewhere.
You’re fast, yes. But he is faster.
Quickly you try lift yourself up and grapple for it, but suddenly Aemond pushes you back down. He straddles you, careful not to place his entire weight on your body, and then the pointed edge of his blade is at your throat.
You’ve lost.
Aemond lets out a breathy pant, a wicked grin on his lips — it sends a chill branching down your spine, all the way to your feet. Spite coils in your chest, your nerves trembling with adrenaline, and you see the thrill of the fight reflected in Aemond’s eye.
You are both the same in that way.
“You do put up quite a fight,” Aemond jests, his tone low and deep. You let both arms lay flat across the ground, every breath labored as your heart punches the inside of your ribcage. “Though I am afraid it was not enough.”
You've never experienced energy like this before. You’re trapped underneath him which is exciting in a strange way. You respond with sarcasm in an attempt to hide your embarrassment.
“You offer to spar with a woman only to fling her into the dirt,” you pant. “How polite of you.”
“And you spar with a dragon.” Up close, Aemond’s iris is a startling violet, and the pupil reflects streaks of shadow and light. He’s agonizingly gorgeous. It makes you feel warm. “Is that not what you called me?”
“You are a man of the most preposterous kind.”
“And yet you still wallow in my company.”
There’s nothing you can really say about that. In a final act of defiance, you stare him down as long as possible; in this small way, you feel undefeated. “You can release me now.”
Aemond hums in acknowledgment, letting his sword hang at his side and slowly standing. In a rare act, the prince offers a hand for you to take, but you slap it away. He is entertained by your glare. “You never fail to reject kindness when it is given.”
“Kindness does not serve me.”
Aemond is amused at your annoyance. He spins his sword between his fingers before sheathing it back into its holster, and you pick up your sword to pass it to an observing knight. When you turn back around, Aemond is staring at you. “What?”
“You owe me a debt.”
There was the bet; you’d almost forgot. Gods, you were going to have to wear a dress for a day, and — and…  
“Regretting your choices now?” The taught line of Aemond’s mouth evolves into a smile, coy and demure.
“No — no, of course not,” you snap. The words don’t come out as calm as you need them to, and it’s all because of him; he has a way of being frustrating. Always doing something to make you tighten your fists. But as much as you would like to blame him, it was your idea. You reap what you sow. “I never break a promise.”
“Good,” comes Aemond’s response. You both stare at each other for a bit, and then you realize: he’s waiting for you to kiss him. For real. Right here, right now.
“What is wrong, little bird?” He teases. “Do not fly away from me now.”
“I—“ you start, unsure of what to do. A split-second decision is made. “I am not doing this here.” 
Before Aemond can say anything, you are grabbing him by the arm and tugging him along. You pull him past clusters of townsfolk, ignoring their curious stares and keeping your gaze forward. He does not resist you.
After peering around an empty alley and inspecting it for any stragglers, you drag him into the stony darkness and nearly slam him against the wall. It’s not on purpose; you’re just reacting to the aftershocks of adrenaline. 
You need to be alone to do something like this. 
You’re so close to Aemond now that you’re breathing the same air as him, nearly pressed against his chest. You can smell his jasmine shampoo, can feel the warmth radiating from his body. You try to slow your breathing: in and out, to clear your head and push every doubt away.
When you find the courage to look straight at Aemond, you find that he’s already gazing at you. 
The light is dim, though you can still make out his profile. You expect his violet eye to be full of mirth, akin to a wild animal staring back at its prey — but what Aemond offers you is righteous and noble. It causes you to prickle with eagerness and anxiety. 
“Do not look at me like that,” you mumble.
“In what way?”
“That way.” You don’t even know what you’re referring to. You just want him to stop staring; it’s burning you up from the inside. “You always act like this when you feel like you have won.”
Aemond’s smirk grows before your eyes. His gaze flickers to the sliver of space between you, and then back to your face. “Sometimes I feel that you know me better than I know myself.” 
You would let out a sneer if you weren’t so terrified; you need to uphold your side of the bet. You know it. And you definitely don’t want to give him the chance to tease you for your hesitation. 
“Maybe I do,” you breathe. Then, grappling with every single piece of boldness you can find, you press your lips upon Aemond’s. 
The kiss is resolute — there’s no way you were going to half-ass it — and you fall into him roughly, slamming each emotion you feel onto his mouth. He tenses a little, but then his hands rise to your arms, thumbs pressing into the sleeves of your tunic.
And then it’s over. 
You break away from Aemond, almost shocked at yourself. Did that really just happen? Your blood pressure is through the roof, pulse thumping like a war drum.
You stare at him, and he stares right on back, both of you saying nothing. You can't look away, as frightened as you are. His expression is soft. So soft that it scares you, yet his eye darkens with interest.
You try to make a joke out of it, to rid yourself of this awkward feeling.
“With the way you are looking at me, My Prince, I would assume you actually like me,” you jest. It doesn’t work. Your brain is mush and the words are flimsy. Gods, you feel overheated. 
Aemond only blinks, those silver lashes fluttering against his cheeks. It seems like he has come to a realization, and you don’t know what that is. He’s testing the waters; waiting to see if you will run away.
“And what then, My Lady?” he finally replies.
Your body gets hotter in an instant. The implications behind his words are enthralling, holding you in a death grip and making it impossible to speak. You’re searching for something to say, anything, but come up empty handed. Part of you is glad when he fills the silence. 
“I must admit,” Aemond says slowly. “There is a certain quality to you. You seem unbreakable.” 
“You know that’s not true,” you whisper.
“Perhaps,” he says. “Though there are times where I am not so certain.”
“Aemond…” 
“Tell me: what do you think of me?” Aemond suddenly asks. It’s not commanding, not a demand. It just feels…personal. You’re not sure how else to describe it, the sound of him speaking so softly. Your ears are accustomed to your father's stern instructions and peoples’ jeers of your boyish antics. His tone sultry, he asks, “Do I make you nervous?” 
“No—you don’t make me nervous,” you stutter. It’s hard to look him in the eye as the lie comes from your lips. “I do not really think of you much, honestly.”
“Hm.” Whether or not Aemond knows you’re lying, you have no idea. “You would be astonished then if you knew the ways I have thought about you.” 
“What do you mean?”
Aemond takes in your expression, gaze flitting down to your mouth and then back up to your eyes. “Would you like to know?”
“Yes,” you say automatically. You’re not sure why you’re hoping for something more — something other than just empty insults and jests. Almost as if he knows what you’re thinking, Aemond leans in. His lips brush against your ear as he speaks.
“You are alluring when you ache for chaos. The flesh of your opponents are beneath your nails and their blood stains your teeth, and I can see you are a woman on fire.” His voice just above a whisper, breath hot against your cheek. “We are both made of flame. You have stolen my attention, my love.”
My love. He has never called you that before.
And it’s in this very second that you have an epiphany. How could you not have noticed it earlier? Felt it? How did you ignore the passion whenever this man talked, the warmth he conjured within you, how grateful you were that he treated you differently than others? 
Aemond has feelings for you. And judging by how you are instantly filled with a massive amount of satisfaction, happiness, and excitement, you hold affections for him too.
But what is love, anyway? It must be the imprints someone creates inside of you—bruises, scars, gashes. Maybe he had maimed you in the same way, except you turned a blind eye to it. Truthfully, you never even thought you would experience something like this. 
After all, love makes humans do terrible things, and you do not consider yourself to be that bloodthirsty. So much of it is violent; there’s the desire to be split apart, defiled, twisted, and reinvented by another person. 
You have seen lovers approach one another in a wolflike manner, ravenous and feral for their attention. People who challenge their love get dragged in between them and flayed open without mercy. It’s terrifying, though it’s not watching the wolves tear others apart that scares you. 
It’s knowing that you would do that for him.
Aemond boldly stares you down. “You are unaware to the extent I defend myself and my sentiments. How you manage to get the truth from me is rather peculiar.”
He suddenly reaches out and touches your cheek; he does it slowly, almost as if you are a beast trapped in a snare and he might scare you away. 
Then Aemond moves his thumb to the corner of your mouth, before skimming it over your bottom lip and pulling it down slightly. He stares down at the inside of your lip — the sensitive, shiny flesh — wishing that he could brand his name there. If anyone tried to entertain you after, you could simply tug your lip down and show them who you belonged to.
This is not a simple bet anymore. 
The urge to kiss Aemond again breaks free from within your system. Against your control, the impulse expresses itself in dirty thoughts that invade the most intimate parts of your body.
Quickly, you grab Aemond’s wrist and tug his hand away so you can press your lips to his once more.
“I hate you,” you breathe against him, holding his face between your hands as your noses brush together. “I hate you so much.” 
Aemond retaliates accordingly; the way he licks into your mouth sends a shiver that ricochets throughout your body. He’s hot. So, so hot. His fingers cup the back of your neck to keep you close as your hands fly away from his face to hold every inch of him possible. 
Aemond’s chest is warm, and his lips are scorching when he trails them over the corner of your mouth and then down your throat. You let your fingers roam to his hair, exploring the softness of each strand that drapes over his shoulder blades.
Aemond knows he’s getting a reaction out of you, that you are starting to feel the prickle of lust. It’s humiliating. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing you can be riled up so easily. It is not like Aemond would give in to your primal desires anyway; he cares too much about duty, about honor. The man follows house tradition — marriage comes before anything else. He is just toying with you now.
You break apart from him, something he surprisingly allows. You want to tell him that you love him, just so he knows. If only you had the ability to articulate such things. 
“Is this all you wanted?” You ask instead. “A kiss from me?”
Aemond places his hands on your elbows to coax you back a bit further; he wishes to see you entirely. His hand then rises to your cheek, where his thumb strokes at the underside of your jaw. “I did not want just a kiss, darling,” he reassures. 
“And for how long have you been thinking like this?” You steel yourself and continue more quietly. “How long have you loved me?”
“Since the boar hunt,” Aemond says without hesitation. “You begged your mother to let you join, and a girl said you might as well be a townsboy. You tackled her to the ground.”
“But that was the day we met.”
“It was.”
“…That is…quite a long time.”
Aemond only hums at that. The confession makes your heart flutter and threaten it to stop; you swallow down his words, grateful, and then try to collect yourself. You clear your throat. “My Prince—”
“Aemond,” he corrects. 
“Aemond. I need you to know something.” 
“And what is that, my love?”
“You can’t sweet talk me into wearing a dress. I will not do it.”  
“You will.” 
Damn it. He is really not going to give this up.
“I hope you burn in the Seven Hells,” you mutter. It’s a joke, of course. You can’t really be mad at him. 
Aemond’s lips threaten to twitch into a smile. An emotion akin to pride rests in his eye. “I shall only go if you accompany me there.”
And maybe, just maybe, you were meant to burn together. Whatever your destiny is, one thing becomes very clear:
You will ruin him, and he will love you for it.
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byuntrash101 · 1 year
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final lap
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reader x dom!sunwoo
smut | nsfw | mdni
racer!sunwoo is kinda mean and big, thigh riding, dry humping, sir kink, orgasm control, orgasm denial, hair pulling, begging, edging, praising, impact play, humiliation, degradation (slut, whore, bitch in heat), a tad of self degradation, multiple orgasm, creampie, cum play,
requested | part of my 2023 prompts event [closed]
after a race there's only one thing that can ease sunwoo's nerves...
[❛ no ones here. we can be as loud as we want. ❜ + ❛ you can be rough. i can take it. ❜]
TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK 🖤
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a/n: this is inspired by this ✨glorious post✨ sunwoo graced us with. when i saw it knew i had to write racer!sunwoo. look at those thighs!! tell me im not the only one losing it for the thighs and veiny forearms!!
There was something about the speed that put Sunwoo in a sort of trance. Ever since he was a boy he aspired to be a racer. It was his calling.
And tonight after winning the race of a lifetime is not different. 
Even now sitting in the changing rooms, after the press conference, after being handed out the platinum cup he was still feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He still felt the strain that was put on his body with every abrupt acceleration. He still felt his body shifting through every single dangerous turn. It was like he was still on the track, swallowing laps after laps, until the last one. 
This was Sunwoo’s experience after every race. And after every race he found that one thing was bringing him back down, pulling his mind out of the haze.
A quick jerk off.
You knew that. You knew that he liked to catch a few minutes of peace after a race to blow off some steam. But now that you’ve been dating for a few months you figured that maybe you could help him out this time. 
When you knock on the door while your heart is hammering against your ribs. You don’t want to come across as annoying but maybe he really does enjoy doing it himself.
“Come in” you hear the voice of your boyfriend from the other side, annoyance tinting his voice.
“Ah it’s you” he says, surprised features relaxing slightly upon seeing you.
You sigh in relief when he seems to not be bothered by your visit. You lightly strut over to where he is sitting, your skirt lightly flowing around you. Somehow he seems embarrassed.
“Hmm…y/n” he starts off hesitantly. “I’m not… done… here” he says carefully.
Instantly your eyes shift down to his crotch. You try your best not to look too avidly at the veiny forearms resting so close to his bulge and failing miserably as your tongue swipes over your lower lip.
“Yes about that…I came to offer my help” you announce wearing a bright smile.
“That’s cute, baby but no, it’s ok you know I…”
You knew Sunwoo was going to need a little convincing so you thought of a plan. Your hands swiftly went under your skirt and without an ounce of hesitation you slid your baby blue panties down your legs, letting them pool at your ankles.
Sunwoo cut himself off as he watched the blue article of clothing fall to the ground and how your skirt scooted up your waist as you lifted your legs to step out of it. You were never this bold with him and he felt himself twitch at the thought of knowing that the only thing that was guarding your precious center from his eager eyes was this skimpy little skirt.
“Please Sunwoo” you pouted as you walked up to him. “Let me help you” you whined as you straddled one of his thighs repressing a moan when you felt the thick leather of his racing gear press against your unclothed folds. 
Sunwoo watched you in awe, completely silenced by this brand new side of you he had never known.
You started to rock your hips on his thigh, hissing at the pleasurable friction. While Sunwoo let his hand slip on your thigh, fingers firmly wrapped around it.
You were not suspecting that if you still had a secret for Sunwoo it was the same for him. The reason why he always isolated himself after a race was because he didn’t have it in him to be the tender and affectionate lover he normally was. The adrenaline changed his brain chemistry and turned him into something a lot more primal. Something you might be scared of.
And right now you were making it very difficult for him to hold it off.
“Fuckkkk” he cursed under his breath when he saw the glistening mess you were making on his leg. And you felt his muscles tighten underneath you, making you whimper. 
Sunwoo sunk his nails in your fleshy thighs as he heard you, only being able to guess how swollen and pretty your pussy was, the skirt still hiding you from him. But somehow that made him even more riled up. He wanted to rip it off you right now. 
“Sunwoo, please” you asked one more time, your hands landing on his bulge, palming it lightly but before you could unzip his pants he catched your wrist in his hand. His grip was strong, a lot stronger than usual. When you raised your eyes to look at him, his chest was rising and falling rapidly and his gaze was dark, raw lust pooling in his orbs, the burning desire contorting his face in an almost painful expression.
“Y/n don’t make this hard for me” he breathed out, deep voice shaking slightly. Trying his best to keep the monster at bay.
“It’s okay” you start, smiling back at him. “You can be rough, I can take it” you assure. Sunwoo’s eyes go round in surprise. Did you pick up on why he was acting the way he was? Did you pick up on the side of himself he was so badly trying to hide from you?
“Y/n… I-” his grip grew even tighter around your wrist.
“Please. Sunwoo. I can handle it”
This is the last straw for the racer. He won one battle today. Maybe he can give this one to you.
As soon as he gives up the atmosphere around him changes, the tension goes up a notch.
Sunwoo let go of your wrist to grab a fistfull of your hair, harshly pulling on it making your head fall back.
“Can you really handle me?” He hissed through gritted teeth while you felt his member twitch under your fingertips. Your breath is short, a hot wave of arousal rushing to your groin as you felt the delectable sting on your scalp.
“Yes sir” you reply in a mere whisper, your hips working themselves back on his thigh. Instinctively yearning for friction as your lust for him grew again.
Sunwoo smirked at the title. It was the first time you called him like that and he could see himself getting used to it very fast.
As you noticed Sunwoo’s change of attitude you started to rock yourself harder on his thighs. Making an even wetter mess.
“Good little whore” Sunwoo praised while his free hand went down to palm over his restricted bulge. Instantly your eyes snapped back down to avidly look at your boyfriend’s busy hand. But he tightens his grip around your hair, yanking it harshly to catch your attention.
“No.” he clicked his tongue. “Look at me. Look me in the eyes” he commanded and you obliged. “Show me how your slutty little cunt pulse on my thigh” he propped his chin to your skirt still resting over you, shielding you from his brown orbs.
Hesitantly you reached for the hem of your skirt and you slowly lift the thin fabric. Sunwoo’s smirk grows wider while his eyes take a darker tone, an evil glint lighting his gaze.
“What a good little slut” he praised in a low rumble, pressing harder on his cock, growling when he felt himself leaking precum for you.
“Come on harder” he ordered as he tensed his thigh again, hand leaving your hair to push on your hips, strong grip conducting each of your movements until your mind was only a hazy mess, mindlessly wrecking yourself on your boyfriend’s thigh.
“You gonna cum?”
“Yesss” you sing in bliss, feeling your lower stomach becoming tighter and tighter with the familiar build up. Sunwoo pressed harder on your hips while you moaned without restrain completely forgetting about the thin walls of the changing room.
“You gonna be a good girl?” he asked again, hands going softer on your side.
“Yessssss” you hissed, your release being within reach, your mind barely able to form the simple word.
“Then you’re not gonna cum” Sunwoo suddenly says and your half lidded eyes snap back to him. Your eyebrows meet on your forehead in need when you notice him being dead serious. “Only whores cum humping their boyfriend’s leg like a bitch in heat” his voice is cold, cutting, ruthless.
“Sunw- Sir… please” you whine, unable to stop the intoxicating back and forth.
“I said” he wraps both his hands around your narrow neck. “No” he firmly states. His hands barely press on your throat but the glacial eyes and the commanding tone is enough to bend your mind. You whine in defeat as your hips slowly come to a stop. Red, swollen and aching cunt visibly pulsating on the leather. 
Before you can even mourn the loss of your climax Sunwoo is back pulling at your hair.
“Up” he says, guiding you by the hair then pulling you down until you are on all fours. “Clean your mess” he shoves your face on the slimy puddle you left behind. You stick your tongue, gliding it over the smooth leather, ready to do anything for him. Completely fucked out your mind, you don’t think anymore only your body reacts.
In a matter of seconds you manage to completely erase any trace of the sinful thing you were doing moments ago, the taste of your own arousal making your head spin and your heart pound. 
“That’s my good girl” Sunwoo praised, drawing soothing circles on your heated cheeks. “Good girls get rewarded” he whispered as his gentle hand guided your face to his groin. You whimpered as you pressed your cheek to the concealed object of your desire. Your arousal dripping down your thighs.
“‘s that what you want baby”? his honey voice made your center quiver.
“Yess” you purred in bliss feeling the heat of his cock through the thick leather.
You heard him chuckle as his hand unzipped the racing pants. He shimmied them on his thigh and you saw the glorious print of his shaft under his gray briefs. You swallowed thickly, eager to finally lay eyes on him. He also pulled his underwear down revealing the thick member clapping against his stomach you lightly gasp in awe.
He lazily strokes it a couple times in his veiny fist while you watch in a trance.
Then he gets up and guides you to bend over the chair, both your knees on the cushion and your elbows resting to the back of it. With a flick of the wrist he flipped your skirt up your back to uncover your ass. He smacked his lips in anticipation while he guided his tip on your drenched folds. The hot tip glided smoothly over your already over sensitive clit. You held your breath while he teased you. Biting your lip to keep yourself from begging. 
“Such patience” he praised before you felt his large palm slap your ass cheek, the unexpected pain pulling a moan from your lips. 
“Want this cock baby?” he asked as he started to push himself in. 
“Yes please Sir” you politely ask, doing your best not to wiggle your hips to get him to fill you up faster. 
“Good girl” he moaned as he bottomed out. His tip perfectly pressing on your sweet spot with this angle. You hissed, your fingers curling around the back chair. “I’m going to fuck your brains out” he growled. And the promise made your stomach knot. 
He didn’t waste time to keep his word. He started to plow into you, pulling all the way out just to smash himself back in.
You started to squeal in pleasure as your cunt desperately held on to Sunwoo’s length rearranging your guts with every thrust.
“Good girl. That's it. Squeal for me” he grunted, strong grip bruising your hips. “No ones here. we can be as loud as we want.”
But everytime you grew closer to your release, every time he heard you go high pitched, every time he felt you pulse around him he would slow down, going down to a painfully slow rhythm. Thrusts merely teasing your eager walls as they pulsed and demanded more. 
It made his cock twitch inside you when he heard your desperate whimpers and your disappointed sighs. He loved to torture you. And he intended to toy with you just like this until you couldn’t take it anymore. Until you broke.
After what felt like hours you finally voiced out your frustration.
“Sir please” you started timidly.
“What baby?” he asked, his honeyed tone letting your ear the smirk that was spreading on his lips from behind you. “What’s wrong?” he fainted worry.
“Please…” you were out of breath, exhausted. “I want to cum” you sighed.
“Awww. Want? what an ugly word” he said as he completely stopped. Dick deep into you but completely still. Somehow this was even worse. You started to whine and wiggle your hips yearning for any kind of friction again, even the slow pace. You needed something, anything. 
“Please let me cum Sir” you pleaded, your voice trembling in need. When Sunwoo started to move slowly again a strangled moan escaped you.
“But baby only whores beg to cum like that” he says rubbing soothing circles over your ass as he picks up the pace ever so slightly, making your center quiver. “is that what you are?” 
You stayed silent, teeth sinking into your bottom lip while you tried to regain a semblance of sanity. But Sunwoo gave you one single violent thrust to keep you in your trance, earning a high pitched moan. 
“Are you a whore baby?” he repeated being as taunting as ever. 
And you just couldn’t take it anymore.
“Yess” you shouted in defeat. “I’m a whore Sir. I’m your little dirty whore” you started to push your ass back and forth on his cock, Sunwoo didn’t stop you he enjoyed seeing you break. “Now please fuck me like the fucking slut I am.” you sobbed, completely giving in.
Without another word he went back to the brutal and exhilarating pace. You completely lost it, abandoning your body and mind to his cock. You moaned and screamed without restrain. 
“Cum. Now, slut” he ordered as he landed a couple more spanks on your red ass. 
And the pain rocketed you over the edge. Diving head first in the blissful abyss. Walls quivering on Sunwoo’s thick dick. Climaxing so deliciously as he came inside you, delivering thick ropes of white thick cum inside your needy little hole that was milking him to the last drop. 
As soon as he pulled out your legs gave out and you collapsed on the chair, gooey cum lazily dripping out your worn out and shapeless cunt. 
Sunwoo stroked your hair affectionately.
“You were right baby” he pressed a kiss on your hairline “you handled me perfectly”.
a/n: thank you for reading guys. feedback is soooo greatly appreciated if you enjoyed drop a comment or an ask. i wuv u <3
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sunshinebuckybarnes · 11 months
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college!ari + elevator
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Want you to want me
Pairing: college!Ari Levinson x female!reader
Summary: Ari really likes you but doesn't know how to ask you out.
Warnings: super fluffy, Ari is a shy beefy boy and should be protected always! This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.
Authors note: feels like I haven't written in soooo long! I've had this in the pipeline for a while but just needed the muse to cooperate ✨ this sits in the same universe as our lovely college!Andy and will most likely have more parts 🩷 (word count: 1.2k)
"Just ask her out."
Ari turns his gaze at the sound of his friends voice, already missing having you in his line of sight.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ari grumbles, fiddling with the pages of the book he's been pretending to study from for the past hour. If only he could pull his gaze away from you.
Andy let's out a chuckle, "she's cool, she's nice and she likes you, just go over there and ask her out."
Ari sighs as he looks over to you again. You're talking animatedly to someone from your class and Ari can't help the soft smile that graces his face as he watches you.
It's not like he hasn't spoken to you before, you both had a similar group of friends and you shared a couple of classes. It was the fact that every time he spoke to you he'd get all flustered and tongue-tied and you'd give him a smile that both calmed and tortured him.
"It's not that simple, man," Ari huffs, pulling his eyes away from you again.
"Sure it is, just go over there and ask her out."
Ari stares at him, "I can't just go over there and ask her out."
"Sure you can!"
Ari sighs, dropping his head as he thinks it over. He wants to ask you out, god he really wants to. But what if you say no? It's not like you'd laugh in his face or anything, you're not like that. But you're friends and what if that's all you see him as?
"Is that how you got your girl? You just asked her out and it all worked out fine?"
Andy smiles as he looks at his friend, his dumb, clueless friend.
"Well I tutored her for a while and then we fucked in that room over there," Andy grins, gesturing to one of the study rooms.
Ari stares at him wide eyed, "so you didn't even take her on a date?!"
"Christ you're old fashioned," Andy laughs, "I took her on a date after. When two people want each other you don't have to stick to a timeline, dude."
Ari can feel his cheeks warm up, he wasn't a prude or anything but he was raised by a single mother who instilled chivalry in him. And he liked you too much to risk doing anything stupid. He wanted, no needed, you to like him - in whatever capacity you were willing to give.
"I just want her to like me," he mumbles quietly, almost hoping Andy doesn't hear.
"Pretty sure she already does, man. And right now she's coming over here and I would put money on it being to talk to you and not me."
Ari's head whips up and he catches your eye as you reach their table. You flash him a sweet smile and Ari swears he loses the ability to think.
"Hey beefcake," you grin as you come to stand in front of him.
Beefcake.
That name, and the way you say it, has lived rent free in his head ever since the first time you called him it.
You'd been drunk at one of Andy's parties and to say you had two left feet would be an understatement. Ari had arrived late after working a double shift at the garage and honestly all he wanted to do was go to bed, but as soon as he saw you dancing and stumbling he knew he could stay for just one.
You caught his eye from across the room and he swears the smile you sent him could light up a whole town. He didn't know why you were so happy to see him but in your excitement and inebriated state you tripped over the leg of a table. You would have fallen flat on your face if it wasn't for Ari's quick reactions and strong arms.
He caught you with ease. His arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you up like you weighed nothing.
The giggle you let out has played on repeat in Ari's mind ever since. Your small hands resting over his biceps, giving them a squeeze and giggling even more.
"So strong," you giggled, "so beefy."
"How much have you had to drink?" Ari mused, unable to hold back the smile as he looked down at you.
You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest as you peered up at him pouring, "only a little. Thank you for catching me, beefcake."
Ari's brows lift as you descend into another fit of giggles. With your chin against his chest he just prays that you can't hear his heart thudding.
"Beefcake, really?"
"I think it suits you," you beamed.
And well, who was Ari to disagree.
Andy's voice snaps Ari back to the present.
"So, are you coming to the Halloween party on Friday?"
Ari feels his cheeks heating up, wondering how long he was staring at you before his friend jumped in. Looking anywhere but you, Ari just wishes the ground would swallow him whole.
"I don't know yet," you say, Ari's eyes flicking to you at the sound of your voice, surprised to see you're already looking at him, "are you going, beefcake?"
Ari stutters as he tries to form a coherent thought, "me? I, um, yeah I think so, maybe?"
Ari can see Andy smirking out the corner of his eye and wishes he could whack him in the face with his text book.
"Well I hope you decide to," you smile, biting your lip slightly and Ari feels his chest constrict, "who's going to catch me when I fall otherwise?"
Ari laughs and he swears your eyes get brighter, "well in that case I might make an appearance."
"Look forward to it," you wink, "well it was lovely seeing you boys. I'll see you in class Ari."
You send them a final smile before turning and heading to the elevator.
Ari's eyes remain on you until Andy throws a pen at his head.
"Dude, what the hell?"
"Ari, seriously go fucking ask her to the party! She clearly wants you to go."
"What? No, she was just being nice, making conversation," Ari tries to brush off, his eyes connecting with yours before you quickly turn away and step into the elevator.
"I swear to god, go ask her now or I will set her up with Steve!"
Ari shoots daggers at Andy before he's up and out of his chair and rushing towards the elevator. His brain doesn't catch up with his body until he's squeezed himself through the closing doors and is stood face to face with you.
"You okay there, beefcake?" You chuckle, taking in his rosy cheeks and the way his huge chest heaves under his shirt.
"Um, about Friday, err Halloween, I um, was wondering..." He trails off, scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but your eyes.
"I'd love to go with you," you smile softly, placing a gentle hand on his arm.
Ari's face splits into the widest grin as he breathes out, "really?"
You let out a soft laugh as the elevator doors open on your floor, "really."
Leaning up onto your tip toes you place a chaste kiss to his cheek before turning on your heel and walking away.
"Make sure you wear something pretty, beefcake," you sing over your shoulder. Sneaking a quick glance back at your favourite shy, beefy boy before the doors close. You see him smiling and touching his cheek and you know you're already in too deep.
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Aw I'm so happy to finally share this! My college boy universe is expanding and we have Ari in the club! As always comments and reblogs are super appreciated 🩷 also please send me thots for more college!Ari ✨
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balanc3d-p3nguin · 3 months
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✨🐠 [beach boy & orange zest ]🍊✨
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[i'm losing my mind over our life i cried so hard during Reflection and basically throughout the rest of the game]
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bagopucks · 1 year
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J. Hughes - Blackouts
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✄————————————
Jack Hughes x Reader
Requested✨ (as a comment in a previous post)
@lolihaveaproblem
Word Count: 1.8k
Warning(s): None!
Not proofread!
—————————————
“This is so stupid!”
“Well if you hadn’t blown all your money, you wouldn’t be losing this bad.”
“Jack, you idiot.”
“I don’t wanna play this any more. You guys cheated.”
It’s all Ive heard all evening. When the boys at the lake house asked me to oversee monopoly, I did not think it would be this hectic. Or heated. It was Monopoly.
To be fair though, I did learn quite a bit about the Hughes and their friends.
Quinn was silently competitive, and I had definitely seen him slipping Luke some money here and there under the coffee table. I only let it slide because I was rooting for the youngest brother. I learned Cole was incredibly good with his money. Maybe a little stingy, but he was definitely a saver. Trevor didn’t give two shits. He was playing just for the hell of it, spending here and there and everywhere, but still managing to stay out of debt or bankruptcy, and Luke just seemed to have a natural knack for the game.
My beloved Jack was trying to do Trevor’s method, but luck was not on his side. He was owing people money he did not have. He was all over the place. He was a financial nightmare. I kept it in mind in case of the day you both get married. Any conjoined bank accounts would certainly have a pin or password he would not know.
“It’s a little late to quit now. Might as well stay in.” Quinn tried to reason.
“With my one property? Hell no.” Jack quickly stood up from the floor. I was not the only person who winced at the crack in his back. “Trevor can have it.”
Trevor, who somehow seemed to be the richest and luckiest.
“Oh fuck yes!” I giggled at Trevor’s excitement.
I would say I had more fun overseeing monopoly than Risk. When the boys decided to play that, I had to take headache medication due to all the yelling. They took that strategy game quite seriously. Again, except for Trevor. Who had a weird obsession with Australia, and overpopulated it with his troops.. and somehow ended up winning the game after two days of on and off playing.
There had been a lot of F-bombs there. A lot of negotiations. A lot of snack breaks. The second time it was brought out to play, halfway through day three, one of the boys got so tense they flipped the board.
The NATO of hockey players did not enjoy that.
Sometimes I played board games with them, but other times I really did enjoy watching them bicker and argue.
Throw Throw Burrito was another I enjoyed to watch. From a safe distance. Considering the main concept of the game was to throw foam burritos at one another. Some of the welts those boys left the table with amazed me. But I hadn’t laughed harder than the time Trevor got hit in between the legs. The speed with which everybody scattered, was highly amusing.
They didn’t play board games often at the lake house, but seeing as we were in the midst of a three hour power outage, and phones were on their last percentages, everybody was desperately looking for something to do.
“Babe, come on.” Jack mumbled, ever the sore loser. I looked up at him from the couch, his face illuminated by the many candles we had burning. Fucking scented candles that had the house smelling like too many things at once.
“I don’t know, Jack. Last time I left a board game unmonitored the whole thing was flipped.” I commented. I knew what I was doing, and as soon as the words left my mouth, the uprising of displeasure from that memory came in the form of new arguments and accusations about who it was that had flipped their poor game of Risk. Jack chuckled softly. I swiftly climbed over the arm of the couch, seeing as boys were sitting at the foot of it all gathered about the coffee table.
“They’re never gonna get over that.” Jack mumbled as he grabbed my hand. I was swift to snatch up one of the candles before he led me down the hall to his room.
“Not my problem. I still have my money on Cole.” I whispered in response. We both snickered softly, and I winced at the sound of another outburst. Trevor yelling about money missing. Looks like they caught Quinn and all his laundering.
“So, Rowdy,” I began with a playful smile as we wandered down the hall. “What’s on the agenda for tonight?”
“I don’t know. There’s gotta be something in this house to do.” Jack shrugged. I smiled at his cluelessness.
Once we got back into his room, I pushed the door shut behind myself. I opened his blinds and watched the rain pelt the windows, gently biting my bottom lip. Jack swiftly snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around my body.
“Watch out baby,” I whispered, holding the candle out.
“Sorry.” Jack’s mumbled apology made me smile.
“Come on, Jack-O.” I tried to make my way to his tall dresser, but seeing as he wasn’t letting go, we both waddled our way over together. I set the candle down on top of the safe area, slowly turning in his arms to get a good look at Jack’s face.
“You think my mom and dad are okay?” His question caught me off guard.
“I have a strong feeling they’re more than fine.” I assured him, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “Probably having a more peaceful night than we are.” I added playfully, just in time to hear another shout and a loud bang. I winced. Somebody was beating the table now.
As much as I claimed to hate the noise, the silence in the lake house was often worse than that. Especially in the evenings. I got so used to the noise that the silence began to feel eerie. Like something was incredibly wrong.
“Can’t do movies, not enough phone power to play games. Not enough light to read.” I mumbled thoughtfully. “I have hair dye in the bathroom.”
Jack seemed to really consider the idea before shaking his head.
“Okay. Makeovers?”
He shrugged.
“Wanna watch me try on lingerie?” He lit up like a kid on Christmas. It was a cruel joke, but alas, I had no lingerie to try on, and I was not going to resort to seduction at a time like this. Not when something could go worse with the weather. The last thing I wanted to do was be huddled up in the basement with my boyfriend and his brothers and friends, in a less than appropriate outfit.
“Sorry for the false hope,” I apologized with a smile. Jack groaned.
“I’ll play mini sticks with you.” I finally offered, and Jack shrugged before deciding that was good enough.
“I’ll go get ‘em.” He was out of his room and back within a minute, two tiny little plastic nets in hand, a ball, and two sticks. I giggled softly. Even in the off season, we couldn’t escape hockey.
By the foot of his bed, Jack set up one net on one side of the room, and a net on the other. We quickly got situated on the floor before Jack slid a stick in my direction. I felt incredibly silly, but anything to pass the time at this point.
“You know the rules?” He asked, and I nodded.
“Same as normal hockey.” I checked. Jack smiled at me before he tossed the foam ball in my direction.
“Loser has to eat the melted nasty ice cream on the counter.” Jack made the condition. I grimaced. How disgusting. But once I agreed, we faced off, and our game began.
I could not say I was surprised near the end of the game, when we took an ‘intermission’ and I found I had holes in my leggings. Jack and I had played quite an aggressive game of knee hockey. Despite the fact that he tried to enforce penalties, he quickly gave up when I reasoned that he couldn’t be in charge of them. Especially when he kept grabbing the back of my shirt to keep me from getting too close to his goal.
The Hughes brothers were always cheating to win in some kind of minor game.
We’d laughed and yelled, pushed each other over and played with no mercy. But it was 9-9, and I seriously did not want to eat the warm ice cream. I figured if Jack had cheated, then I could play dirty too. So when I had the foam ball in my own possession, I rushed Jack, who was trying to play defense in the middle of the floor.
We made eye contact at the last second when I moved my stick into both hands -acting as though I planned to cross check him- and pressed my weight against his chest, shoving him onto the floor and effectively pinning him down.
Jack broke into a fit of laughter as I climbed on top of him.
“That’s a penalty,” he tried. I laughed and shook my head.
“Your mom is.”
I was swift to tap the puck into his net with my stick.
“And I win.” Jack was still laughing at the ‘your mom’ joke when he actually registered his loss. The poor brunette craned his neck to see the goal, his expression dropping with realization.
“What? You cheated!”
I leaned forward while he was busy complaining.
“You’ve been cheating since we started this game. I’d just accept my loss and get ready to eat shitty ice cream, Hughes.” I was quick to kiss him before I stood up, dropping my stick on his chest for effect.
“I want a rematch!”
“Can’t, Jacky. I’m retired.” I’d certainly give him hell about this moment for the rest of our lives.
“Bullshit. One more game.” Jack finally sat up, staring up at me as he held my stick out.
“I can’t, buddy. Not pulling a Tom Brady. I’m retired, end of story.”
“This sucks.”
“Aww it’s okay. How’s about you just come to bed and we can cuddle for a bit instead of the ice cream.” Jack eyed me cautiously, seemingly trying to decide if it was another joke or not.
“I’m not making you eat warm ice cream, Jack.” My tone took on a much more serious sound before I held my hands out to him. “Just come lay with me.” He let me help him get up from the floor, dropping his own stick and nodding.
“Can’t believe you thought I was cruel enough to make you eat that,” I teased.
✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾
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majosullivan · 5 months
Text
Castle Swimmer Dashboard Simulator
🪸 classycoral Follow
If there’s one thing that I’ve learnt while traveling the sea, it’s that prophecies can really range from being the silliest of tales to the most horrific things you will ever of having the dismay of laying your eyes on
🪸 classycoral Follow
Like I’ll visit one castle and their prophecy will be ‘It’s been destined that the beacon will use this frog to predict the future so we can prepare for it :)’ and then the next castle I visit will have a prophecy like ‘It is been foretold from centuries past that the beacon shall arrive and save us from a plague that has been taunting us since ancient time. Through sacrifical ritual, they shall free us from this torment’
#like who is coming up with these #are you guys doing okay???
154,879 notes
💧 oceaneyes Follow
I heard there’s hot singles at the bottom of the God Mouth
⚜️ minigod-fucker Follow
out of the way boys I’m about to GET IT
⚜️ minigod-fucker Follow
got trapped in unending darkness surrounded by voices
9,264 notes
🪷 through-the-reef Follow
I’m currently traveling through the Purple Peaks and it’s absolutely gorgeous here! I have no idea why there seems to be so few people living here, it seems wonderful!
🪷 through-the-reef Follow
GIANT CRAB, GIANT CRAB, GIANT CRAB-
13,521 notes
✨ give-that-axolotl-a-knife Follow
Does anyone else feel like the surface god is just toying with you how they please. They think they’re so funny. Well I’m about to be hilarious
🎼 beautifulabyss Follow
this feels so threatening, are you doing okay op?
24,957 notes
🌊 squids Follow
Being alive is so wonderful because there is so many beautiful places in the ocean you can explore and so many fascinating creatures you can see. However there are also the unending horrors
6,496 notes
🖼️ ocean-landscapes Follow
The Blue Hills
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832 notes
💰 needling-on Follow
GUYS I MIGHT BE GOING INSANE BUT I’M CURRENTLY OUTSIDE TRAINING AND I SWEAR I JUST SAW ONE OF THE RULERS AT MY CASTLE GO FLYING OUT THE CASTLE WINDOW
💰 needling-on Follow
NOT INSANE, A GROUP OF HIS PEOPLE JUST CAME SWIMMING OUT CALLING AFTER HIM, OH MY GOD I CAN’T BREATH
💰 needling-on Follow
UPDATE: THEY’RE COMING BACK WITH HIM NOW AND HE MUST HAVE FALLEN INTO A SCHOOL OF PRETTY VICIOUS FISH CAUSE HE’S COVERED IN BITE MARKS AND THERE’S STILL ONE BITING HIM. I FEEL LIKE I’M GOING TO CRACK A RIB
284,047 notes
♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow
Alright guys which mini god from the ones y’all know about do you think you could take
♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow
IN A FIGHT IN A FIGHT IN A FIGHT
♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow
Blocked blocked blocked. None of you are seeing the light of the surface
69,638 notes
🌺 lesbiankelp Follow
Life is so fucking unfair cause kelp dragons are SO beautiful and magnificent and enchanting and I would do ANYTHING to get up close to or even pet one, but the moment one would see me they would immediately try to swallow me whole like a shrimp
#they’re so pretty and for what #AND FOR WHAT?! #I just want to give them a little kiss on top of your head… #is that too much to ask?
2,749 notes
🔱 poisedposeidon Follow
THE BEACON IS TWENTY???
🔱 poisedposeidon Follow
THEY SHOULD BE AT THE CLUB…
💧 oceanxeyes Follow
h
HUH?
🎼 beautifulabyss Follow
I’m sorry, the beacon is WHAT?
🫧 bubbly-bubbles Follow
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🪸 classycoral Follow
No because like my castle’s prophecy is nearing 200 years old and I’ve met a ton of people whose prophecies are over twice that age. How in the name of the Surface God are they only 20?
🌱 seaweed-brains Follow
Okay this post just unlocked some long dormant memories in my brain and if I don’t talk about it with someone outside my castle I think I’ll lose my mind so you guys better be sitting down.
For some context: until around 7-8 years ago, my people were under almost constant threat of these giant sea snakes because they had unknowingly killed the head of their den. Savage things. Would take any opportunity to attack us. We couldn’t even find a new castle cause they would follow us everywhere. Because of all this, our elders ended up creating a prophecy, which stated that the Beacon would eat the carcass of the head snake, causing the rest of the sea snakes to leave us alone.
So when I was like 13, the Beacon had arrived at our castle to fulfil our prophecy, and as you can expect, we were all very excited and I remember trying to get to the front of the crowd as fast as possible to see them. They were like nothing I have ever seen before and have seen since, we all were in complete awe of them. However, the thing about them that ended up surprising me the most was that they were young. Like, pretty damn young. They looked a little younger than me. So while our monarch quickly went to make sure all the preparations were complete, they entrusted my parents with making sure the Beacon was comfortable, giving my family the opportunity to have small chat with them. Curiousity getting the better of me, I asked how old they were. 13. They said they’re 13 years old. They were MY age. I didn’t know what to do at that point and basically throughout the entire time our prophecy was being completed, my mind was just stuck thinking about if I was destined to eat that giant smelly snake
🔱 poisedposeidon Follow
Ex
EX-FUCKING-CUSE ME???
🎼 beautifulabyss Follow
WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT
♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow
I need a whole day to fully process that prophecy alone what in the actual fuck
🌺 lesbiankelp Follow
Did…
…did they eat the snake carcass?
🌱 seaweed-brains Follow
THE WHOLE THING…
🫧 bubbly-bubbles Follow
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🪸 classycoral Follow
and people still think I was exaggerating about how wild prophecies are. How in the entire sea does being attacked by sea snakes lead to the Beacon needing to eat a giant carcass? Who is coming up with these solutions? Show me their workings
💧 oceanxeyes Follow
The Beacon arriving at another castle to help people fulfil their prophecy, only to find that it’s another one written by freaks:
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🐚 sandyshells Follow
t
th
…the beacon is real?
🔱 poisedposeidon Follow
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🌺 lesbiankelp Follow
HELLO?
🌫️ surface-and-beyond Follow
Sandy get back here right now what do u MEAN you didn’t know the Beacon was real???
🐚 sandyshells Follow
MY PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS SAID THE BEACON WAS JUST PART OF ANCIENT MYTHOLOGY…we were always told growing up that prophecies and the lot were just stories and such. You’re telling me that there’s actually a divine being going around helping people by eating snakes and stuff???
🌫️ surface-and-beyond Follow
Y E A H
🐚 sandyshells Follow
WHAT THE HELL
♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow
This whole post is a mess holy shit
498,690 notes
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inkelea · 6 months
Text
stolen kisses! ✭
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pairing: smoker!lee know x fem!reader
synopsis: when you find your “enemy” killing his lungs in school grounds, you can’t just pass by and keep walking.
genre: fluff, (angst if you count yelling as such), enemies (more like rivals) to lovers (kinda), suggestive, non idol!au, hs!au, short fic.
warnings: talk about smoking addiction, smoking, kissing, kinda suggestive themes (nothing too bad tho!) at the end, cursing. (tell me if I missed something.)
word count: 1.0k
a/n: omg guys hi. first of all don’t smoke that’s so bad for you it’s just for the plot✨. if lino feels off im sorry it’s my first time writing for him😭 also again this is totally fiction not trying to like paint lino as the smoker bad boy lol. hope you like it:)
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the wet dirt feels soft under your boots, reminding you of the current weather on your way to class. rain had taken over the night, your sleep being almost interrupted by the sound of it.
your thoughts about last night’s nightmares end when you smell a particular cigarette scent and see the frame pushed against a wall. you roll your eyes after recognizing the leather jacket and slightly red hair.
lee minho, as always, is being annoying. you can’t quite pick out the day you started to despise him, but it has everything to do with his fixation on you. fixation on picking on you, that is. ever since he came in new in your sophomore year, he has been annoying you in some way or another. most of your mind is filled with thoughts about him, and not in the way you would like a boy to be in your head.
holding back is something unknown to the both of you, making you stop in front of him and hold your head high.
“you think it must be funny, giving the younger students a bad example. you’re a senior for god’s sake.”
he looks at you with an eyebrow raised, cigarette between his index and middle finger, arm hanging close to his leg.
he leans to get closer to you, a cocky grin already on his face. what a bastard. “just because you’re the perfect student who can’t have even just a bit of fun doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be prissy, miss perfect.”
your head hangs low as you try to compose yourself. he knows right where to strike you to make you lose your temper.
he is leaning against the wall once again, chin high while looking at you with a smirk, cigarette about to be smoked one more time.
“i’d rather be a prissy than be addicted to something that steals my money and kills my lungs, mr dead.”
the drag from his cigarette is stopped as he looks you up and down, laughing right after and smile getting even bigger. you kind of wished he wasn’t annoying or a smoker, or both. at the end of the day a pretty boy was a pretty boy.
“okay then tell me, princess of rules, what do you expect me to do each time i want a drag, huh? punch someone?” he licks his lips, your mind wonders if they must taste of cigarettes. “it’s really insensitive of you to pick on someone for their addictions, not what i expected from you.”
on one hand, his fake pout makes you sigh loudly, making him grin to himself. your annoyed face was kind of cute, he had to admit. on the other… you do want to help him quit, even if you know he isn’t planning to do so any time soon.
“you could eat candy or something, i don’t know.”
“so you’re telling me to exchange addictions?”
you know he’s playing, his only goal firing you up, and still, you can’t stop the flames that start to light up in your chest.
“you’re such a hypocrite! if you wanted to quit, you would at least try. there’s so many options you can try, even stupid ones like using a rubber band, or eating gummies or hell what do i know! kiss someone! so stop acting like you’re the poor victim because we both know you aren’t. stop being such a pussy.”
you close your eyes and take a big breath. god how much you hated him. and his habits, his goddamn habits.
his eyes open like plates, and then a light bulb lights up inside his head. getting closer, he puts his hands on your shoulders. your head automatically snaps back.
“what are you doing?” your eyes frantically look from side to side, momentarily longing on the cigarette left behind on the floor. you are so going to kill him.
he leans closer to you, heads almost touching. “i feel like having a cigarette right now.”
your eyes close slightly, your hands in your jacket pockets. he is so… close, you think you might be able to hear his heartbeat if he gets any closer. you hope he doesn’t hear yours, it would only skyrocket his ego.
“what about it?” your head goes up again, looking him down.
“you said to kiss someone.”
your heart skips a beat, he can’t be serious.
“didn’t exactly mean me. maybe some of those sophomores who get so giggly when they see you with the lighter ready.”
he thinks of stepping back, but then he catches your eyes going back and forth between his eyes and lips, which only makes his eyes twinkle.
“they’d probably beg me to teach them how to smoke, kinda contradicting don’t you think?”
“you’d probably enjoy it, wouldn’t you? probably love people begging for you too huh.”
your hands go to his collar, pushing him a bit against you. seconds later he is kissing you. his hands are in your jaw and his thumbs hold your head high. he does taste like cigarettes, but you don’t seem to mind as much as you thought you would. just as it started it ends, much to your dismay. you would scold yourself later.
he keeps peppering your face with kisses for some time, taking small breaks from each one, making you think he actually was stopping himself from taking another cigarette with each kiss.
you feel the need to make things clear, so you speak up as he plants kisses on your neck. “i still hate you.”
your breathy voice while you talk makes him smile and leave a last peck on your lips, deciding to make fun of you a bit more.
“okay, i’ll go find some other pretty girl to kiss. don’t even worry about it.”
your right hand smacks his arm, his smile only grows bigger.
he may be as annoying as someone can be, but you have always liked helping people out…
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@mochamvgz
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© inkelea on tumblr | don't copy, repost or plagiarize my work.
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2af-afterdark · 5 months
Note
Would you believe me if I said I have some more ✨thots✨ on Omega MC in WHB?
Like how Beel/Bael is a two for one deal because MC’s sweet sweet heat pheromones are driving them crazy?
Or how everyone in Abbadon (idk if it’s one or two B’s) just are eagerly waiting to help (and by eagerly I mean fighting each other to have a chance)
Or how Naberius and Buer are just at each other because they should be helping the sweet “innocent” omega? (Dogs man /j)
I do wonder if you have any other thots on this, go as rabid and feral as you want for this, I live for Chaos
🦩
I saved this ask. I saved it for a rainy day. Today is my rainy day. fun fact: omegaverse is one of my comfort genres. I read it whenever I need a pick-me-up
First part
Bell would pop up in Avisos unexpectedly the moment MC enters their heat (he smelled it across all of Hell); walking into the sight of Bael already peeling open their shirt and groping them while his nose is buried against their neck to sniff at their sweet scent. They are both turned on by smell and a human omega is a new experience; a surprisingly sweet treat. Cut to MC in Bael's lap, his hands all over them, and Bell eating away at their wet entrance. MC will walk away covered it bite marks... if they could walk afterward, that is.
Abbadon is a complete toss up. I have the feeling a few members would be more than happy to work together (see Phenix and Ronove) but some may want MC along because they don't think the poor human could handle the session if they had to handle more than one devil all on their own. RIP to the cute omega, because those devils will still go back-to-back without giving them a proper break. Good thing Paradise Lost is always ready to lend a helping hand. Speaking of which....
Imagine Paradise Lost! The healers are no joke. If anyone knows how to be extra rough with a desperate omega, it has to be them. They have the terrifying ability of healing people to the point that it's like they were never injured at all. They can go pretty far as long as MC doesn't die or lose a limb... And considering how rotted an omega's brain could be during a heat, they may not even notice how rough the boys are being. All they know is that everything feels good.
But, yes, I think Naberius would be the worst™. Dog smells bitch in heat (affectionate) and loses his fucking mind. He would be humping MC so fast that they wouldn't be able to do much else than beg him for more. God save you if you try to come near his omega. He will bite you will all three of his mouths (I like to believe he turns into his Cerberus form when MC is sleeping so they can cuddle against the big puppy).
Glasyalabolas would be a jerk about it though. He lives for chaos. He would tease and torment MC without a hint of relief just so they keep spreading all those sweet omega pheromones and drive everyone else crazy. He'd watch the entirety of Hell turn into fistfights over MC... then he'd finally steal MC away and give them what they've been craving from him just so all the fighting was pointless and everyone else is left blue balled.
LEVIATHAN THOUGH! Just imagine him finding out MC is in heat! Imagine how quickly he grabs MC from wherever the fuck in Hell they are at that moment and stealing them away to his room so that he's the only one enjoying their sweet scent. Imagine how many days he spends with them completely drunk on their heat, loving on him and only him. Then imagine how envious he is after MC's heat passes because "do you only feel that way about me when your mind is addled?" so he makes them prove that's how they always feel about him for a few more days on top of it.
And what about Mammon?!?!?!?!?! Man owns the world and would gladly give it to MC in a heartbeat. He also has zero hang ups about sexual acts in public, so I can see him going about his day despite MC's heat and just letting them climb on top of him whenever they need it. Fuck! I wouldn't be surprised if the entirety of Tartaros is as their disposal and that they don't have someone waiting on them hand and foot between the the high points of their heat. I'm sure Bimet would jump at the chance, just saying.
And Satan... Dear sweet Satan would let them cling to him all day and they could have sex and roughly or as gently as they want. He's there for them as long as they need him. If anyone else comes sniffing, he will kick them across Gehenna. MC doesn't need anyone else coming around right now when they're so vulnerable.
Meanwhile, poor Minhyeok has to deal with getting back all their use panties that smell like heat and slick. Man may go into a rut and have enough cum to fill more than one jar. I'm sure MC will need all that extra love during and after their heat.
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novelizt · 6 months
Text
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✨ IT'S BEEN WAITING FOR YOU ✨
📸 1989 TV SONGFIC COLLECTION INCLUDING :
tim drake, draco malfoy, peter parker, gojo satoru, percy jackson, anthony lockwood
❗Unfinished prompts are subject to change. Fics with no hyperlinks are coming soon!
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📷 TRACK 1 : Welcome To New York
“ IT'S BEEN WAITING FOR YOU ” — TIM DRAKE
you start life at the big apple and unexpectedly meet a fortune teller who informs you of the name of your future husband. you try not to think too hard about it, but it's difficult. considering your boss has the same name as your future husband.
📷 TRACK 2 : Blank Space
“ DON'T SAY I DIDN'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU ” — DRACO MALFOY
you act like a devil to get your husband to divorce you. only to discover that pushing him away only makes him hold on tighter.
📷 TRACK 3 : Style
“ WE NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE ” — TIM DRAKE
wayne enterprise heir x stark industries heiress
rivals in public, lovers in secret ; two heirs have an explicit arrangement because they can't risk their public image with anyone else.
📷 TRACK 4 : Out Of The Woods
“ WE WERE IN SCREAMING COLORS ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
you think you're hard to love, but he loves you like it's breathing.
📷 TRACK 5 : All You Had To Do Was Stay
“ ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS STAY ” — DRACO MALFOY
you and draco meet again after he had ignored you years before. he wants to tell you why he'd left but he doesn't know how you'd react to him being a criminal.
📷 TRACK 6 : Shake It Off
“ PLAYERS GONNA PLAY ” — GOJO SATORU
it's embarrassing to know that the rumors about you reach other schools. one faithful day, gojo satoru gives you unsolicited advice about doing the shit you want because you'd get hate whether or not you'd do it anyway. a bottle of wine later, and you begin to think he's right.
📷 TRACK 7 : I Wish You Would
“ I WISH YOU WOULD ” — PETER PARKER
your long-time friendship with peter had gone sour. after years of trying to put you behind bars, peter tries to save you from kraven, but you're not sure if you can trust him anymore.
“ I WISH WE COULD GO BACK AND REMEMBER WHAT WE WERE FIGHTING FOR ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
PEERING EYES OVER WROUGHT-IRON FENCES
📷 TRACK 8 : Bad Blood
“ STILL GOT THE SCARS ON MY BACK FROM YOUR KNIFE ” — DRACO MALFOY
turning from childhood friends to enemies, and then learning to tolerate each other after the war is a storm waiting to happen. especially when he had tried to kill you and failed.
📷 TRACK 9 : Wildest Dreams
“ SAY YOU'LL REMEMBER ME ” — PERCY JACKSON
you and percy agree to only see each other for the summer but as august draws to a close, it gets harder and harder to untangle your fingers from his.
📷 TRACK 10 : How You Get The Girl
“ FOR WORSE OR FOR BETTER ” — PERCY JACKSON
hitman! percy
percy is hired to kill an important man in singapore, not expecting to meet and fall for his target's daughter.
📷 TRACK 11 : This Love
“ THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
you're back in town. as promised, lockwood welcomes you with open arms. the only difficulty was the fact that you kissed the last time you saw each other.
📷 TRACK 12 : I Know Places
“ I KNOW PLACES ” — PETER PARKER
marvel x pjo crossover ; daughter of athena! reader
peter's only trying to protect you but you're more scared of him than you are of the monsters coming after you.
📷 TRACK 13 : Clean
“ I THINK I AM FINALLY CLEAN ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
lockwood was cursed to be alone. you prove that your love can break curses.
📷 TRACK 14 : Wonderland
“ YOU AND I GOT LOST IN IT ” — TIM DRAKE
you and tim are thrown into wonderland by mad mod. the line between fantasy and reality blur; now, tim stares at you like he wishes you weren't enemies.
“ IT'S ALL FUN AND GAMES 'TIL SOMEBODY LOSES THEIR MIND ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
fantasy au!
you were a princess and you liked to dress in gold. one day, you're snatched by a dragon. come to find out that the dragon is a shape-shifting boy who thought you were a statue.
📷 TRACK 15 : You Are In Love
“ TRYING TO PUT IT INTO WORDS ” — TIM DRAKE
it's hard to find the right words to explain why you love tim.
📷 TRACK 16 : New Romantics
“ I CAN BUILD A CASTLE OUT OF ALL THE BRICKS THEY THROW AT ME ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
you recruit the daring anthony lockwood to stage a relationship that will rile up the press.
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— FROM THE VAULT !!
📷 TRACK 17 : "SLUT!"
“ LOVELORN AND NOBODY KNOWS ” — PETER PARKER
a publication comes out, announcing that your hero selves are dating. now, you and peter have to distance yourselves because one, mary jane watson—renowned journalist, has been suspecting you of having an alter ego.
“ IN A WORLD OF BOYS, HE'S A GENTLEMAN ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
lockwood is tasked with the important task of protecting a foreign princess, you. you discovered that you liked his boyish charms more than expected.
📷 TRACK 18 : Now That We Don't Talk
“ THE MORE I GAVE, YOU'D WANT ME LESS ” — CHILDE
how bad can it be, to sleep with the enemy?
📷 TRACK 19 : Say Don't Go
“ I'M YOURS, BUT YOU'RE NOT MINE ” — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD
fantasy au!
you are the heir to the throne, soon to be coronated. he is your loyal guard. when repressed feelings come bubbling to the surface, it's hard to keep away. except, he has to, because a prince should be standing next to you, not him.
📷 TRACK 20 : Suburban Legends
“ BORN TO BE SUBURBAN LEGENDS ” — PETER PARKER
you became strangers when you thought you'd spend your whole lives together. one faithful day, peter gets sucked into an old polaroid picture, returning to the day it was taken; your 18th birthday.
📷 TRACK 21 : Is It Over Now?
“ FAST FORWARD TO 300 TAKEOUT COFFEES LATER ” — PETER PARKER
you and peter agreed to stop whatever was happening between you two for his sake. it wasn't good to date your employer's daughter, after all. the task wasn't easy when you work at the same place.
📷 HIDDEN TRACK : Sweeter Than Fiction
“ PROVED ME RIGHT WHEN YOU PROVED THEM WRONG ” — PETER PARKER
a lot of people had a lot to say about peter when his identity was revealed. he revered how you stuck by his side through all of that, even if all you did was run a fan account.
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Feel free to message me if you want to be tagged in a certain fic 😊 I'm open to just squealing about our boys and/or Taylor Swift !!
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🦋 — @novelizt 2023
173 notes · View notes
lila-lou · 4 days
Text
✨ His only exception - Pt. 22/? ✨
Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, hurt
Word Count: 6428
A/N: This is part 22 of “His only exception”.
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
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Two weeks later, you walked towards Annie’s office, to hand her some reports, but as you were about to knock at her door, you overheard her talking.
Annie’s voice rang out, laced with frustration and urgency, as she bellowed into the phone to Butcher. "Why the hell is Soldier Boy still in America?", she demanded, her tone tinged with incredulity. "He should have been transported to Russia by now. What’s the holdup?".
Your breath caught in your throat as her words echoed in your ears, sending a shiver down your spine.
With bated breath, you pressed your ear to the door, straining to catch every word of the conversation unfolding within.
Inside the office, Butcher’s voice came through the phone, gruff and strained. "The Russians are afraid to take him back", he explained, his words heavy with frustration. "They don’t want to deal with the fallout if he escapes again. They want assurances, guarantees".
Annie let out a frustrated sigh, her voice tinged with exasperation. "Well, we can’t keep him here forever", she snapped, her irritation palpable. "We need to figure this out, and fast".
Your heart raced as you listened in, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together in your mind.
As you stumbled back from the door, clutching the reports tightly in your hands, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you.
With each step back to your office, your thoughts raced, grappling with the implications of what you had overheard. The tension in the air seemed to thicken around you, suffocating you with the weight of the secrets and lies that permeated Vought.
Once safely back in your office, you sank into your chair, your mind reeling as you tried to process everything you had just heard.
As you sank into your chair, the weight of the revelations pressing down on you, you couldn't shake the nagging questions swirling in your mind. Why would your friends hold Ben captive? There´s no way you misunderstood the hole situation.
The thought of Ben being returned to the Russians, to face the horrors of his past once more, sent a shiver down your spine. Your heart raced like crazy. You knew the extent of the torture he endured during his time in their captivity, and the idea of him being subjected to it again was unbearable.
No matter what he had done, to you or anyone else, this was just cruel.
With a heavy heart, you began to piece together the fragments of information, trying to make sense of the tangled web of secrets and lies that surrounded Ben's disappearance. But the more you delved into it, the more questions arose, leaving you feeling more lost and confused than ever before.
As someone who had spent countless hours tracking down supes in your previous job at Supe Affairs, you knew the ins and outs of investigative work like the back of your hand. If anyone could uncover Ben's whereabouts, it was you.
You should have done something sooner. Damn it, you hated yourself right now. Why did you trusted your team so easily? But… they were your friends, so you never thought about them lying to you.
For eight grueling hours, you poured over every piece of data on your laptop, leaving no stone unturned in your quest for answers. It was a tedious process, but your determination never wavered, fueled by the hope of finally finding a lead.
And then, just when you were beginning to lose hope, you stumbled upon a promising clue—an upcoming shipment from Nevada to Russia. Then it hit you. Your heart raced. A shipment from supe affairs. Fuck.
This could be it, you thought to yourself, the breakthrough you had been searching for. This had to be it. This had to be Ben.
Thats when Annie and Hughie knocked on your door. You were jolted out of your intense focus, the sound pulling you back to the present moment. Blinking away the remnants of your concentration, you forced a smile as you greeted them.
"Hey, come on in", you said, trying to sound cheerful despite the turmoil raging inside you. "Sorry, I lost track of time. I'll be ready in just a minute".
Annie raised an eyebrow at your distracted and stressed demeanor, her expression tinged with concern. "Everything okay?", she asked, her voice gentle.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal. Finally, you shook your head, plastering on a false smile. "Yeah, just got caught up in some work stuff", you replied, hoping they wouldn't press for more details.
You joined Annie and Hughie for dinner, you did your best to push aside the rage and confusion swirling within you. The possibility that your friends had captured Ben and kept it from you gnawed at your conscience, but for now, you chose to keep silent about what you had overheard. If that shipment was really connected to Ben, or worse, was Ben, the last thing you needed was them, to react in a hurry.
Throughout the meal, you engaged in polite conversation, masking your inner turmoil behind a façade of normalcy. Despite your efforts, however, a part of you remained preoccupied with thoughts of Ben and the unsettling revelations you had stumbled upon.
As the dessert arrived, Annie and Hughie engaged in light banter, discussing their latest mission at Vought. You joined in sporadically, offering a smile or a nod while your mind wandered to darker thoughts.
Annie noticed your distraction and placed a hand on your arm, concern etched in her features. "Is really everything alright?", she asked, her voice gentle.
You forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah, just a bit tired from work and stuff", you replied, your tone carefully neutral.
Hughie glanced between you and Annie, sensing the tension in the air. "If there's anything on your mind, you can always talk to us", he offered, his expression earnest.
You nodded, before you asked cautiously, "Did either of you happen to see anything about Ben lately?", trying to sound casual.
Annie and Hughie exchanged a glance, their expressions guarded.
Annie sighed softly before responding, "No, we haven't heard anything about him. But it's not uncommon for supes to keep a low profile".
You nodded again, but the unease in your stomach only grew. "It just seems crazy", you continued, "that someone as powerful as Ben hasn't been seen by a fan or caught on camera or anything. Especially now that Homelander is no longer a supe, Ben is essentially the most powerful being on the planet. The media should be going crazy about him".
Annie's brow furrowed in thought, but she didn't offer any further insight. "Maybe he just want to have some private time for now", she suggested vaguely.
You knew pressing further would only raise suspicion.
Annie let out a heavy sigh, her gaze distant as she mumbled, "You still miss him, don’t you?".
You bit your lip, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Yeah", you admitted softly, unable to hide the ache in your voice.
Her next question caught you off guard. "So… there wasn´t just friendship between you two, right?", she asked.
You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "At first, maybe", you replied carefully. "But… it got complicated. I don't know".
Annie nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "Well, if you ever need to talk about it, about your feelings, I'm here", she offered sincerely.
You offered her another fake smile.
How could she sit there and lie so badly to your face? How could the whole team, your friends, lie to you like that and keep you in the dark? And how could you have been so stupid and naïve as not to question Ben's disappearance?
With determined resolve, you booked a flight to Nevada as soon as you arrived home that evening. As you started packing a small bag, you continued your research, driven by the need to uncover the truth. There was no way you could ignore the possibility that Ben might be in danger once again.
If there was even the slightest chance that he was enduring another hellish ordeal, you had to do everything in your power to prevent it. You owed him that much, after everything you had been through together.
With each item you packed, you felt a sense of urgency coursing through your veins. Time was of the essence, and you couldn't afford to waste a single moment.
As your flight took off in the middle of the night, you felt a sense of urgency propelling you forward. You had booked the soonest flight available, unwilling to waste another precious minute while Ben's fate hung in the balance.
Touching down in Nevada in the early hours of the morning, you wasted no time. Calling in sick to work, you made your way to the nearest taxi stand, determined to reach the small airport where the mysterious shipment to Russia was set to depart. With each passing moment, your heart raced with anticipation, fueled by the hope that you might find some answers about Ben's whereabouts.
As the taxi pulled up to the airport, you stepped out, your pulse quickening with each step you took. With every passing second, the weight of the unknown pressed down upon you, but you refused to let fear hold you back. Steeling yourself for whatever lay ahead, you marched forward, ready to uncover the truth no matter the cost.
Taking a deep breath, you approached the guards stationed at the entrance to the airport. "Starlight sent me to make sure everything is ready for the shipment", you explained confidently, hoping to gain their trust. Well, you had a few hours to prepare yourself for every possible argument.
The guards exchanged suspicious glances, their eyes narrowing as they scrutinized you. "We weren't informed of any additional personnel", one of them remarked, his tone skeptical. But they knew your face. Your new position at vought was pretty much being Annie´s PA.
Undeterred, you maintained your composure, offering plausible explanations for your presence. With each carefully chosen word, you worked to assuage their doubts and convince them of your legitimacy.
After a tense exchange, the guards finally relented, allowing you to pass through the security checkpoint. As you stepped inside the airport, a sense of relief washed over you, knowing that you had cleared the first hurdle.
You walked through the airport. For a while.
As you finally entered the security room, you were met with the scrutinizing gazes of another two guards. Keeping your composure, you approached them with even more confidence.
"Starlight is waiting at the entrance", you lied smoothly, your tone authoritative. "She needs to discuss some urgent matters with you both".
The guards exchanged hesitant glances, clearly uncertain about the unexpected interruption. However, they seemed hesitant to defy the authority of someone claiming to be sent by Starlight.
Nodding in acknowledgment, they quickly vacated their posts, eager to address the purported issue at the entrance. As they hurried off, you took advantage of the opportunity to slip further into the security room.
"Idiots. This was way too easy", you rolled your eyes.
As you monitored the security cameras and navigated through the building's system, a mix of disbelief and amusement washed over you. The familiarity of the security system, reminiscent of Vought's own setup, struck you as both ironic and unsettling.
With each click and keystroke, you delved deeper into the labyrinthine network of corridors and chambers. It wasn't long before your keen eye caught sight of a series of heavily guarded rooms nestled within the bowels of the basement.
The sight sent a shiver down your spine, the gravity of the situation sinking in. These rooms held the answers you sought.
As you pocketed one of the access cards from the guards, a surge of adrenaline fueled your resolve. With each step towards the elevators, your heart pounded in anticipation and sure some fear.
With a steady hand, you inserted the card into the elevator panel, the soft beep signaling acceptance as the doors slid open before you. Stepping inside, you selected the basement level, your breath catching in your throat as the elevator descended into the depths of the building.
As the doors opened to reveal the dimly lit corridors of the basement, you steeled yourself for what lay ahead. With each step forward, you drew closer to the truth. Hopefully to Ben.
With each door you passed through, the tension in the air grew thicker, your nerves coiling tightly with each step. Using the access card, you navigated through the labyrinthine corridors of the basement, encountering occasional guards whom you managed to deceive with well-rehearsed lies and a calm demeanor.
As you ventured deeper into the bowels of the facility, you couldn't shake the sense of urgency that gnawed at your insides.
With each encounter with a guard, you maintained a facade of confidence, engaging in casual conversation and deflecting any suspicion with practiced ease. The guards, unaware of your true intentions, offered little resistance. Again, fucking idiots.
Finally, after navigating through a series of winding corridors and heavily guarded checkpoints, you stood before the imposing bulk of the last big steel door. Your heart raced as you reached for the access card once more, steeling yourself for whatever lay beyond.
A wave of shock and horror washed over you as the door swung open, revealing the grim scene before you. There, chained up on an examination table, lay Ben, his once-powerful form now reduced to a pitiful sight. Tubes snaked from his body, connected to machines that hummed softly in the dimly lit room.
Your heart clenched at the sight of him, his face obscured by a large mask, his body restrained by heavy chains. He lay still and silent, completely vulnerable and at the mercy of his captors.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you took in the sight before you. The reality of the situation crashed down upon you with force, filling you with a mix of anguish, anger, and despair.
But amidst the chaos of your emotions, one thing remained clear: you had found Ben, and now it was up to you to free him from this nightmare.
As you approached Ben, your heart pounding in your chest, you cast a wary glance around the room, ensuring that you were alone and undetected.
Reaching out with trembling fingers, you gently lifted the mask from Ben's face, revealing his features beneath. His expression was serene, his features softened in sleep.
Your heart ached at the sight of him, your fingers tracing the lines of his face as if to reassure yourself that he was real, that he was still here with you.
As Ben's eyes snapped open, a primal fury ignited within him, driving him to break free from his restraints with a fierce determination. With a low growl emanating from deep within his chest, he lunged towards you, his movements swift and predatory.
In an instant, his hands closed around your throat, crushing the air from your lungs as he pinned you against the wall with a vice-like grip. Your vision blurred instantly, the world fading around you as you struggled to draw breath.
"Mm…Ben", you managed to gasp, your voice barely a whisper as you gazed up at him with pleading eyes, hoping to reach the man buried beneath the rage.
In the final moment before his grip tightened, Ben's gaze locked onto yours, recognition flickering in his eyes as he registered your presence. With a sharp intake of breath, he released his hold, allowing you to crumple to the ground beneath him.
His voice trembled with a mixture of anger and disbelief as he demanded, "Did you fucking know about this?".
You choked back a sob, tears welling in your eyes as you shook your head frantically. "No, no, no", you gasped, your voice barely audible as you struggled to find your breath. He believed you, at least for the moment.
But Ben's rage erupted quickly, his voice reverberated through the room, filled with fury and betrayal. "Those fucking bastards tricked me!", he roared, his chest beginning to glow with a dangerous intensity.
You couldn't blame him for his anger, quite the opposite. You were at least as angry. But when you saw his chest begin to glow, you knew it wouldn't end well if he didn't calm down.
Fear gripped your heart as you pleaded with him, your voice trembling with desperation. "Ben, please, calm down", you begged. "You'll kill me if you explode".
Despite Ben's seething anger, your trembling hand reaching out to touch his. "Ben, please", you pleaded, your voice cracking with fear and urgency. "I know you're angry, I know it´s a lot, but… but we need to find a way out of here… now".
His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving with the intensity of his emotions. For a moment, his gaze softened as he looked into your eyes, but the fire of his rage still burned bright within him.
He knew you were right.
With a wild intensity in his eyes, Ben growled at you to stay behind him. Without hesitation, he strode through the door, his movements filled with purpose and determination. As you followed closely behind, your heart raced with adrenaline.
Just beyond the threshold, a horde of guards awaited, their weapons at the ready. But Ben's grin widened, a fierce gleam in his eyes as he cracked his neck with a primal snarl. With a swift, savage motion, he launched into action, tearing through the guards with unmatched ferocity.
The air was filled with the sickening sound of flesh being rent apart and the metallic tang of blood. Ben moved with lethal precision, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake as he fought his way through the opposition, his fury unchecked and unstoppable.
As Ben tore through the guards with unparalleled brutality, you followed closely behind, your stomach churning with each gruesome scene unfolding before you. The once pristine corridors of the facility were now painted in shades of crimson, the air thick with the stench of blood and death.
With each strike, Ben's movements were fluid and precise, his strength and speed unmatched as he dispatched his enemies with ruthless efficiency. You did your best to keep up, your heart pounding in your chest.
Despite the horror of the situation, you forced yourself to steel your nerves, pushing aside the overwhelming urge to vomit as you focused on staying close to Ben's side. With each step, you prayed for the nightmare to end, yearning for the safety and solace of escape.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you emerged from the building.
As the chaos subsided and you both emerged from the building, the weight of the ordeal hung heavy in the air. Ben's gaze swept over the scene, his expression unreadable as he took in the aftermath of the carnage.
Without a word, he made his way to the nearest car, dispatching the last few guards with a swift efficiency that bordered on mechanical. You followed closely behind, your mind still reeling from the violence you had just witnessed.
When you reached a car, Ben paused, opening the passenger door casual. Despite the grim circumstances, there was a sense of familiarity in his actions.
You climbed into the car, the leather seats cool against your skin as you settled in. Ben joined you moments later, sliding behind the wheel with a sense of purpose.
The engine roared to life and Ben quickly navigated the vehicle away from the scene of destruction. As you drove off, the weight of what had just transpired hung heavy in the air, the silence between you filled with unspoken questions and lingering tension.
You couldn't help but stare at him, your mind still reeling from the violent ordeal you had just witnessed. With a mix of disbelief and exhaustion, you blurted out. "Even in this situation, you open me the damn car door?", you asked incredulously, your tone a mix of bewilderment and irritation.
Ben glanced at you, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Hey, just because we're fucking knee-deep in chaos doesn't mean I have to abandon my fucking manners", he replied with a hint of amusement, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a small chuckle despite the gravity of the situation. Despite everything.
But his mood changed within seconds.
He turned to you, his chest beginning to glow once more. "Why the fucking hell did your fucking friends capture me?", he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration and anger.
You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm as you tried to steady his rising temper. "I don't know, Ben", you replied calmly, meeting his gaze with sincerity. "I overheard Annie talking to Butcher about it, but I don't have all the details. They never told me anything".
Ben's expression softened slightly, his features contorting with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "They never fucking told you?", he echoed, his voice tinged with incredulity. "After everything?".
You shook your head, a heavy weight settling in your chest as you confronted the painful reality of the situation. "No, they didn't", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry, Ben. I wish I had done something sooner".
For a moment, silence hung in the air between you, the weight of unspoken words echoing in the car's confined space.
As Ben's chest gradually ceased its ominous glow, a sense of relief washed over you both, the tension in the air dissipating slightly.
"I can't fucking believe this shit", Ben muttered, his voice heavy with disbelief as he processed the revelations. "Four months… I've been gone for four fucking months?".
You nodded solemnly, the weight of the truth hanging heavily in the air. "Yeah", you confirmed softly, meeting his gaze with empathy. "It's been over four months since… since everything happened".
Ben fell silent, his expression a mixture of shock and resignation as he grappled with the reality of the situation. The passage of time seemed to stretch before him, a testament to the countless moments lost in the void of captivity.
"How did you find me?", Ben's voice cut through the silence, his eyes narrowing as he studied you intently.
You swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you. "I… I overheard Annie talking", you repeated yourself, your voice barely above a whisper. "She mentioned something about a shipment from Nevada to Russia, and I knew… I just knew it had to be you and I had to find you".
Ben's expression softened slightly, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "You risked everything to come after me", he murmured. "Why?".
A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you shook your head. "Because you're not just 'anyone' to me, Ben", you replied, your voice tinged with emotion. "You're…damn it, even after what happened… you´re… you're everything".
As Ben's hand found its way to your thigh, a surge of electricity coursed through your body, igniting a fire within you. Despite the turmoil in his mind, his touch spoke volumes, conveying emotions that words could never fully express.
You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as you felt the intensity of the moment enveloping you. In that fleeting instant, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time.
With a silent understanding passing between you, you leaned into his touch, seeking solace in the warmth of his hand against your skin. In that simple gesture, you found a sense of belonging, a connection that transcended the chaos and uncertainty of the world around you.
You missed him.
More than anything.
The landscape blurred past as Ben continued to drive, the silence between you stretching on. Unable to bear the weight of the quiet any longer, you finally spoke, your voice barely a whisper as you confessed, "I missed you".
Ben's grip on your thigh tightened slightly in response. Despite the absence of words, his touch conveyed a depth of emotion that resonated deeply within you, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty of your reunion.
After driving for what felt like an eternity, Ben finally pulled the car to a stop in front of a nondescript motel. The neon sign flickered weakly overhead, casting a dim glow over the deserted parking lot.
About 15 minutes later, Ben settled onto the bed with a heavy sigh, you moved to sit beside him, the weight of the recent events hanging heavily in the air between you. His gaze was distant, his expression inscrutable as he stared off into the distance.
You carefully asked, "Do you want to take a shower? I can find something for you to wear that doesn’t scream 'soldier boy went crazy'".
Ben grunted in response, his gaze still distant as he nodded slightly.
With Ben in the shower, you seized the opportunity to dash to the nearest mall. Racing through the aisles, you grabbed a small selection of clothes that you hoped would suit him. After paying in a hurry, you grabbed some food and rushed back to the motel. You didn't really want to leave ben alone, not in his state of mind.
As you arrived, you noticed your phone buzzing incessantly with missed calls and messages from Butcher and the rest of the team. Ignoring them, you powered off your phone, determined to focus solely on Ben's well-being for the time being.
You froze in the doorway, catching sight of Ben lounging on the bed naked, flipping through channels on the small TV. Your cheeks flushed crimson as embarrassment flooded through you, and your hand instinctively flew to cover your eyes.
"Uh, sorry", you stammered, averting your gaze. "I, uh, brought you some clothes and food",
Ben glanced over at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "About time", he remarked dryly, reaching for the clothes in your hand.
He watched you how you covered your eyes, a bemused expression crossing his features. With a raised eyebrow, he reached out and gently pulled your hand away from your face.
"You've seen it all before, haven't you?", he remarked. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?".
Your heart raced at his touch, a shiver running down your spine as his deep, husky voice washed over you. Instantly, you felt a familiar warmth spreading through your body, your arousal igniting at the mere sound of him.
Ben's smirk deepened as he sensed your reaction to his touch and words. "Guess the worst part of me getting captured was that I couldn't take care of you properly". He emphasized the word ´properly´ his gaze smoldering with desire.
As you looked up at him, your heart pounding with desire, you felt an overwhelming urge to close the distance between you. With a boldness born of longing and pent-up passion, you reached up to cup his face in your hands, pulling him down to you with a sense of urgency. It was too long. You missed Ben more than words could ever express. You loved him. Him. Ben.
Your lips met his in a fiery kiss, hungry and desperate, as if trying to convey all the emotions and desires that had built up during your time apart. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the electrifying connection between you and Ben, the raw intensity of your mutual longing washing over you both.
As Ben pulled you up onto his hips, the world seemed to spin around you, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of his body pressed against yours. Pressed against the wall next to the door, you yielded to the passionate onslaught of his kiss, feeling a rush of heat coursing through your veins.
With one hand beneath your ass, supporting your weight effortlessly, and the other cupping your face, Ben deepened the kiss with a fervor that left you breathless. Your fingers dug into his biceps, seeking purchase as you surrendered to the overwhelming intensity of the moment.
A deep, primal moan escaped your lips, reverberating in the small space between you, as the world outside faded into insignificance, leaving only the fiery passion that ignited between you and Ben.
Amidst the fervor of your embrace, Ben's lips danced along your collarbone, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. As his touch ignited a wildfire of desire within you, you couldn't help but let out a soft whimper of pleasure. You were his own personal drug.
Ben's deep voice rumbled against your skin, a hint of amusement laced with desire. "Told you to be fucking careful with those noises", he murmured, his lips trailing a path of heat down your neck.
With a shuddering breath, you tightened your grip on his shoulders, your nails grazing his skin as you surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch. Every sensation, every caress, sent waves of pleasure crashing over you.
With a swift motion, Ben tore away your shorts and panties in one fluid movement, leaving red lines marking where the fabric had been. You inhaled sharply at the suddenness of his action, but the surge of desire coursing through you overwhelmed any pain as you pressed your lips harder against his.
Driven by an insatiable need to feel him, to taste him, you deepened the kiss, your body arching against his in a desperate plea for more. The raw intensity of the moment consumed you both.
Lost in the whirlwind of desire, all you could think about was him—the weeks of longing, the ache of his absence—all of it culminating in this moment. His presence enveloped you, his scent, his warmth, his touch.
Desperation laced your voice as you begged for more, your words a fervent plea for the release of pent-up desire. "Please", you whimpered, your voice thick with need. "I need you".
Ben's amused grin widened as he teased. "Maybe I should disappear more often if this is the kind of welcome I get", he chuckled, his hand trailing down to his throbbing length.
At this point it became damn clear to you, that this was Ben´s way of handling his swirling emotions of what the team had done to him. Or wanted to do to him.
With a confident grip, he positioned himself at your entrance. As his tip brushed against your slick folds, you gasped.
With bated breath, you braced yourself against the wall, your muscles tensing in anticipation of his next move.
Slowly, tantalizingly, Ben began to push forward, his thick length inching its way into your welcoming warmth.
With one measured thrust, you felt yourself stretching to accommodate him, the delicious ache mingling with the throbbing heat pooling between your legs.
As he sank deeper, your senses were consumed by the heady sensation of him filling you completely. The friction between you driving you to grind against him in search of greater pleasure.
As Ben's hips pressed flush against yours, his breath hot against your skin, he peppered kisses along your neck, his lips trailing a path of fire along your sensitive flesh. Each brush of his lips sent shivers of pleasure racing through your body, intensifying the already overwhelming sensations coursing through you.
With a husky voice, thick with desire, Ben whispered against your ear. "You feel so fucking good", he murmured, his breath hitching as he fought to control his own rising arousal.
With that, he started to move, slowly at first. He would never admit it, but he missed you just as much, even though he wasn´t really awake for the last few months.
As Ben's thrusts grew more forceful, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing over you, he struggled to stifle his own moans of pleasure. With each breathless gasp, he fought to maintain control, his lips seeking yours in a desperate attempt to silence his own cries of ecstasy.
Lost in the intoxicating haze of pleasure, you clung to each other, consumed by the raw, primal desire that bound you together. In that moment, there was nothing else in the world but the searing heat of your passion.
"Fuck, I missed you so much", you whispered, your voice thick with emotion as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Ben's movements became more urgent, driving you against the wall with force. The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed in the small motel room, a symphony of desire and longing that reverberated through the air.
With a firm grip on your ass, Ben lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bed where he hovered above you, his gaze dark with desire. His cock brushed against your slick folds, teasing you with its hardness as he groaned at the sight of your swollen, eager pussy.
“Fuck, Sweetheart. I nearly forgot how fucking beautiful you are", he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he continued to tease you with his throbbing length.
As you shuddered beneath him, your desire reaching a fever pitch, you pressed your hips against his throbbing length, craving the feeling of him deep inside you.
With a low, guttural groan, Ben captured your lips in a searing kiss.
As you press your hips against Ben's throbbing length, he groans in response, his desire evident in the way his eyes darken with lust. You reach up, pulling him closer as he positions himself between your legs.
Ben thrusts forward, sinking deep inside you in one swift motion. You gasp at the sensation, feeling him fill you completely as he moves with softer strokes. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, intensifying with every movement.
You writhe beneath him, lost in the pleasure of the moment.
As the tension builds and you feel yourself nearing the peak of pleasure, Ben's commanding voice cuts through the haze of desire. "Come for me sweetheart", he orders, his voice low and urgent, his gaze intense as he watches you intently.
His words ignite a fire within you, pushing you over the edge as you surrender to the pleasure coursing through your body. With a cry of ecstasy, you shatter into climax, waves of pleasure washing over you as you ride out the intense sensation.
With each thrust, Ben's urgency grows, his desire evident in the way he moves against you.
"Fuck, I'm close", he grunts, his words strained with desire as he drives himself towards the edge. "Gonna come inside you, baby".
You meet his gaze, nodding in response. With one last thrust, Ben finds his release, his body tensing as he spills himself deep and hot inside you with a primal groan.
As Ben's climax washes over him, he collapses against you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His breath comes ragged and heavy against your skin, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.
You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you bask in the warmth of the moment. His dick throbs inside you, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.
For a few blissful moments, you both remain tangled together, lost in the intimacy of the aftermath.
As Ben slowly rolls himself beside you, he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his gaze softening as he looks at you.
"You okay?", he asks, his voice gentle as he caresses your cheek.
You nod, a soft smile spreading across your lips. "More than okay", you murmur, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his.
Ben returns your smile, leaning in to press a tender kiss against your lips, before you placed your head on his chest, trying to catch your breath.
Ben's chest grew warmer beneath your cheek, and a sense of panic flickered through you. "Ben, your chest", you exclaimed, pulling away slightly, concern etched in your voice.
Ben's gaze shifted to where your hand rested on his chest, his expression tight with controlled emotion. He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he fought to calm himself down. His grip around your body tightened, seeking solace in your presence amidst the turmoil within him.
"It's okay", Ben muttered, his voice strained with effort. "I've got it under control".
You nodded, though the concern lingered in your eyes as you searched his face for any sign of distress. Despite his reassurance, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of your stomach.
As you leaned up and pressed your lips against Ben's jaw, trailing kisses along his stubbled skin, you hoped to distract both him and yourself from the rising tension in the room. His struggle to maintain control was evident, his muscles tense beneath your touch.
You lingered at his mouth, kissing him softly, pouring all your love and affection into the gentle caress.
As you continued to kiss him, you gently cupped his face, urging him to meet your gaze. His eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of desire and turmoil.
"Do you remember what you said to me the night before the fight?", you asked softly, your voice tinged with emotion. "The words that made me feel so angry and hurt?".
As your thumb brushed over his cheek, you felt the heat radiating from his chest, but you fought to keep your composure. With a shaky breath, you pressed on.
"I was angry because it's true", you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I… love you, Ben".
Feeling the weight of your words, Ben's expression softened, his eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and vulnerability. It was a revelation for him, a moment that he never expected to experience.
For the first time in his life, someone had told him they loved him, and meant it with their whole heart.
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A/N: First, sorry for the long silence. But, I'm back. Well, a lot happend in this chapter. And a lot will happen in the next chapters. I can promise one thing, no matter what you think will happen, it will definitely be different... And that counts for several upcoming chapters... The two of them definitely won't find peace that quickly. Otherwise we would already be at the end of the story <3 Please let me know what you think.🥰
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Part 23
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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara
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danikamariewrites · 8 months
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Could you do one with Xaden where reader gets hurt during training and he almost loses his shit? I can totally see him and Sygael, along with readers dragon of course, wanting to find the person who hurt them and burn them to a ✨crisp✨ lol.
Gotta have your daily protective and caring shadow boy lol
Injured
Xaden x reader
A/n: not me expanding the No One Left Behind universe (like that’s a thing lol) Cadmus is a beast in this one, he is taking no one’s shit. That sweet puppy dog dragon is gone for now.
Warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of injuries
Sgaeyl had told Xaden what happened seconds before Liam came and got him, panting and out of breath only wheezing out your name. He was now out pacing Liam on the way to the infirmary.
Amon had once again pulled a dangerous stunt during flight training. Flight training. The one time of day no sparring was supposed to happen. Xaden wanted to kill the little prick. He went too far this time and Xaden was at his limit with giving Amon chances.
Pushing the doors open Xaden scans the beds looking for you. His eyes find you on a bed on the far right of the room. You looked pissed as you messed with the bandage around your hand and arm.
You didn’t notice him until he was sitting next to you on the bed, gently taking your hand in his so you’d stop picking at the wraps. You looked up at him and you were fuming.
Xaden scanned your face taking in your injuries. There were cuts all over your face and dried blood coming from your nostrils and smattered on your nose. A nasty bruise went from your temple to your jaw. Xaden picked up the wet cloth on the bedside table, gently wiping the blood from your face.
“You ok sweetheart?” You flopped back on the bed letting out an agitated sound. “I swear I’m going to kill Amon next time I see him.” Xaden wanted to laugh but this wasn’t a joke. “Can I leave yet? I hate the smell in here.”
Xaden nodded, helping you up as you winced from the shooting pain in your ribs. As you walked to Xaden’s room you told him about what happened at flight training. Amon and his poorly behaved dragon attacked you and Cadmus in an impromptu fighting exercise.
Cadmus was thankfully unharmed and went on the offensive quicker than you could tell him to. You had never seen or heard him so pissed off, or using so many swear words. He was so well mannered. Of course Cadmus got Sgaeyl involved, who told Xaden immediately.
“Would it make you feel better to know they’re currently plotting their revenge on Amon?” You let out a laugh, relaxing on Xaden’s soft black covers. “Yes actually. I’d love to see Cadmus lose his mind. Is that why he cut me off?”
You spent that night in Xaden’s arms as he whispered loving words and promises of protecting you, never letting anything like this happen again.
The next afternoon you heard about the beating Xaden gave Amon during morning training. It was so bad Dain had to step in and pull Amon away from Xaden while Garrick, Liam, and Imogen had to restrain him.
Once Amon recovered you were both back at flight training. Xaden was overseeing your squad for the time being, just to make sure Amon understood his death threats were serious.
You had never seen Cadmus look so terrifying, it also didn’t help that he and Sgaeyl were next to each other glowering at anyone who looked at them. Even you were scared to approach him until you heard his voice in your head. “We’re just making sure we get our point across. It’s ok, I’d never hurt you y/n.”
You smile up at him and mount in the saddle, preparing for take off. Xaden mounted after you shooting you a grin once in his saddle.
Looking out at the field you saw Amon. Gods he looked awful. Xaden really did a number on him. “Sgaeyl showed me. It was wonderful, I’d never been so happy to see a fight.” He let out a huff which you took as his laugh.
Once up in the air Cadmus insisted you stay at the back. Just in case anyone tries to attack so he could be ready this time. You weren’t fully convinced by his tone but went with it anyway. Who were you to question the wisdom of a century old dragon?
About an hour in you had a feeling Cadmus was up to something. The squad was flying over a mountain pass you usually avoided because it was a third year course. And Sgaeyl was slowly making her way next to Cadmus.
They gave each other a look that made you and Xaden panic. Then they started to climb at an alarming rate. Their wings beating loudly as wind rushed past you, making you flatten yourself to the saddle. “Cadmus!” You yelled at him. “What are you doing?” “Doing what I should’ve done in the first place.”
Oh shit. That wasn’t good. You thought Xaden was joking when he said they were plotting. Looking down you noticed the other dragons had peeled off, leaving Amon alone to hover over the pass.
Passing each other, Sgaeyl and Cadmus dove for them. Amon’s dragon took the offensive too late and Cadmus got a chunk of his side, biting down hard enough causing the dragon let out an ear piercing shriek.
Letting go he flapped away best he could but Sgaeyl was ahead corralling him. Cadmus let out a roar that you’d never heard from him before. It shook the world around you causing your grip to tighten on him.
Unhinging his jaw as wide as he could, Cadmus let out a gust of flame in Amons direction. His dragon flailed and Sgaeyl went for its eyes. They started dropping fast, his dragon going lifeless. Unfortunately, one of Amon’s friends brought him on his dragon before the loud thud of the dragons body echoed around the mountains.
You couldn’t look away. In awe of what just happened. At least Amon would be a little less dangerous from Now on.
Later that night you were sitting in front of the hearth in the common room staring into the crackling flames as you went over the days events again. You couldn’t stop hearing the echoing thud or the silence from Amon as his dragon died. The way he felt nothing for the thing he was connected too didn’t sit right with you.
Xaden silently approached letting his shadows softly caress you to alert you to his presence. “Hey sweetheart.” You hum acknowledging him. Sitting down, he kisses you on your head. He places a hand on your back to comfort you. “Thinking about today?”
“Yeah.” You said absentmindedly. “I’m not upset they did that. I mean, I am a little. A warning would’ve been nice.” You both let out a chuckle. “Did you know?” “No.” You believe him from the seriousness of his tone.
“What’s still bothering you?” “How Amon didn’t care. At least that’s what it looked like to me. I’d be distraught if that was Cadmus.” Xaden wrapped his arm around your shoulders, resting his head on yours. “I know. He’s a psychopath. But we’ll see what happens.”
You let out another hum, relaxing into his warmth. At least you were safe in the skies now.
tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris @twsssmlmaa
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