#NOT EVERYTHING THAY JUST HAPPENED | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aureatelys · 3 months ago

Text

red light kiss

pairing: aaron hotchner/fem!bau!reader rating: explicit w.c. : 4k a/n: the vest stays on

c.w.: 18+ MDNI PLSSSS, porn no plot, blowjobs in car!!!, newly established relationship, d/s undertones, some dirty talk and degradation, one hint of sir kink, reader has hair?, no y/n, size kink if you squint

summary:

You haven't had sex in a week, you're stuck in the car with your new boyfriend/boss, and he's wearing that damn Kevlar vest. How could you resist?

read below or on ao3 here <3

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You watch with dread as the train inches to a stop several feet in front of you. It was already going horribly slow for the past 15 minutes, taking so long that Hotch even took his foot off the brake and put the car in park. There’s been a line of cars piling behind you, a median on your left, and a field that goes nowhere on your right, so it’s not like you could escape even if you wanted to.

The team was currently in a small college town in Texas investigating a string of murders happening on campus, leaving the entire population of less than 5,000 on edge. You and Hotch were on the way to question a professor that lived only a couple blocks away from the campus with an old rap sheet a mile long. You honestly hoped that he would be good for it so you guys could go the fuck home.

“Relax,” Hotch murmured, putting a comforting hand on your knee while he called the rest of the team at the station to let them know you two were going to be stuck for a while and to have another pair go out to the professor’s house.

You understand that Hotch was trying to help put you at ease since you’ve been cranky all day. Scratch that, you’ve been cranky the past 3 days. It’s not your fault that the BAU was called on your Saturday off, especially when you planned to spend that day off in bed with your boss.

It had taken a while for you and Hotch to get your act together after gradually crossing that professional boundary. The past 6 months consisted of late-night dinners in Hotch’s office, going to the park with him and Jack on the weekends, and mind-blowing orgasms on possibly every surface in Hotch’s apartment.

You’re not sure when the lines had started blurring for you. Maybe that one day you came into Hotch’s office for dinner after a particularly brutal case and ordered from your favorite Thai restaurant despite everything on their menu being too spicy for him. Or maybe it was when you saw the wide smile adorning his face when Jack scored the winning goal at a soccer game, making him look younger. Or maybe it was when he told you you looked beautiful while you were riding his cock in the darkness of his bedroom, his hands pressing bruises into your hips, and the moonlight strewing in from the curtains illuminating the awe in his eyes.

Only several weeks ago did Hotch properly ask you out to dinner and it’s like everything changed. Suddenly, the glances across the bullpen meant something different, something sweeter. Now, you can be affectionate without fearing Hotch wouldn’t reciprocate. Now, he’s touchier— touching the small of your back when he walks by, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear when you’re having dinner in his office, or pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before you fall asleep on his chest.

It's new and you’re still adjusting. However, it definitely hasn’t stopped the sex.

So, your Saturday plans with Hotch got ruined, that’s fine. It wasn’t like the team had just gotten back from a week-long case and you had barely tumbled into bed with Hotch when his phone rang. And you haven’t even had the chance for a quickie in the hotel, both of you too tired and passing out before even thinking of sneaking in each other’s rooms.

You’re cranky because you haven’t gotten laid in almost a week and you work with possibly the hottest man alive and today, he’s wearing one of your top 3 hottest outfits he’s ever worn.

Your third favorite outfit is his green button-up with the sleeves rolled up, often paired with black jeans. The first time you saw him pull that out for date night, hair perfectly gelled down and sleeves rolled up his wide forearms, you had missed your dinner reservations because you were too busy on your knees in the middle of the doorway. He just looked so good wearing dark green— the way it complemented his complexion, and even better when he wore those tight jeans that made your eyes bug out of your head.

Your second favorite outfit was more intimate—a faded GWU shirt that was starting to stretch over Hotch’s shoulders and gray sweatpants that definitely left little to the imagination. At times, this combination felt straight up pornographic, especially if Hotch was relaxing on the couch, legs spread with his arms stretched behind his head. It felt like a siren call, and you fell for it every single time.

But Hotch right now, not only wearing a plain black tee that stretched over his chest, but also his Kevlar vest, was your most favorite outfit of them all.

You didn’t know why it was your favorite. You see Hotch wearing his Kevlar vest almost twice a week, usually over a white dress shirt, and it doesn’t distract you as much as this specific combination does.

Maybe it’s because you’ve always been a sucker for Hotch’s arms, as you stare at the way he has them stretched out lazily with his wrists resting on the steering wheel, muscles bulging. Or maybe it’s the way the vest hugs him so tightly it makes him look even broader, makes him stand up straighter and appear more confident. Or maybe it’s because Hotch inevitably starts sweating not even 10 minutes after the vest is on due to the constricting material, making his chest heave and sweat form at his forehead. You wear your vest just as often as he does, and you know for a fact that you don’t look as insanely sexy he does.

“Are you okay?”

You blink, brain brought back to reality, feeling a rising heat to your face and down to your stomach. You bring your gaze up from where you were ogling his jean-clad thighs to Hotch staring down at you in amusement. “Yep, why wouldn’t I be? We’ve just been stuck behind this train for hours.”

Hotch cracks a smile at that. It makes your chest tighten. “It hasn’t even been 30 minutes, don’t be so dramatic.”

You lean over to swat at his arm playfully and definitely not an attempt to quickly cop a feel. “How dare you! I’m never dramatic.”

Hotch huffs a laugh at that, used to your antics by now. “Morgan and Reid are already on their way to the Thompson house so we may as well relax.”

Someone several cars down honks, causing Hotch to twist his upper body as best as he could in the vest to look back incredulously, as if they could see him through the tinted windows. You’re suddenly enraptured by the sharp cut of his jaw and the line of his throat. “People here have no patience,” he remarks.

An idea slowly forms in your mind. Not only is it in the middle of the night, but the county-issued SUV that you were in had tinted windows the same strength as the ones back home. No one at the police station was expecting you since they knew you were trapped behind the train and it’s not like you brought any files or your laptop to continue bouncing around ideas about the case.

You watch thoughtfully as Hotch shifts in his seat, adjusting the vest to sit a bit more comfortably. How could you resist?

“I have an idea,” you say, feigning nonchalance.

Hotch’s eyes flit to you, eyes narrowing because, like you said, he knows you by now. “And what idea is that?”

“I can suck you off?”

You watch in delight as Hotch’s eyebrows raise, a flush rising up his neck. He clears his throat, knuckles tightening on the steering wheel, before saying almost breathlessly “And what makes you think I’ll let you?”

You know you’ve already gotten him, that he’s already going to let you go down on him. He wouldn’t be shifting in his seat if he wasn’t. Any other day, he would’ve turned you down instantly, a reprimand telling you to at least pretend to be professional at the tip of his tongue. If you’re sexually frustrated, he must be at least ten times hornier since his libido has always been worse than yours.

“Well, our weekend plans got ruined and this is the first time we’ve been alone in over a week,” you sigh, leaning over the console as gracefully as you could with the vest weighing you down to put your hand on his, running your fingertips up his forearms. “And I miss you.”

A smile quirks at the corner of Hotch’s mouth. “We work together.”

You roll your eyes, letting your fingers trace the veins decorating his arms. God, he’s so hot. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Hotch says, softly, watching you with a gaze so fond that it makes you want to cry. “That doesn’t mean you need to suck my cock while we’re on the job.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Hotch is only vulgar like that in the privacy of the bedroom, knowing how much it gets you off when he’s muttering in your ear about how good you take his cock. The contrast of his soft gaze and lewd words has you shifting in your seat now, thighs rubbing together at the sudden onslaught of heat between them. You’re really about to do this.

“You just look really good in that vest,” you whisper, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

Hotch hums, leaning back in the seat and moving his hips down. His right arm comes up to stretch out and rest his hand behind your headrest, watching you with dark eyes, almost beckoning you. “So that’s what’s got you all hot and bothered.”

“Yes,” you exhale, already feeling that familiar glaze over your brain. You glance down curiously at his lap and your mouth waters when you see the outline of his half-hard dick through his jeans, undoubtedly uncomfortable because all of his jeans are unfairly tight. “Can I?”

“Come here first.” His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, an action that’s lately been making you weak in the knees. He’s been clingier lately, pressing his lips to any part of you he can take, and you know what he’s asking for, his neck craned and his eyes zeroing in on your mouth.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and nearly bang your knee against the console when you lean over more to kiss him, something tender and gentle despite the way you desperately want to clamber over to sit on his lap. He tastes like cheap coffee and something inexplicably Aaron, warm and soothing, that makes you part your lips to deepen the kiss. His mouth is so soft, yet he kisses you in a way that’s all consuming, heady. His hold on your jaw tightens before sliding down your neck, and the way it would be so easy for him to take a hold of you there makes you dizzy.

When you pull away, he’s watching you with that fond look that’s been making more of an appearance recently. “Now can I?”

There’s that smile with your favorite dimple again, barely detectable even from the dashboard lights and the flashing railroad stop signs. “Yes,” Aaron says, exasperatedly.

You situate yourself with your knees on your seat, your own vest digging into your chest when you lean down lower, so your face is nearly in his lap. He doesn’t even need to move his seat back, his long legs already making him sit ridiculously far from the wheel, leaving you with enough breathing room.

You press your palm against his cock over his jeans and you preen a little when you feel a click in his throat before he clears it. He unbuckles his seatbelt and scoots down in his seat a bit more, causing him to push his hips up against your hand. You try to wrap your fingers around him, marveling at the heat seeping through the fabric. He’s fully hard despite not having done anything except talk and kiss, signifying to you that he may just be as desperate as you are.

“You have to be quick,” Aaron mutters through gritted teeth. You can almost imagine his eyes flitting back and forth out the window, anticipating when the train was going to start moving again.

“Don’t rush me,” you say and get the reaction you’re hoping for when you feel Aaron’s large hand on the top of your head, pushing your face down into his lap until your mouth is inches away from the outline of his cock.

“You have such a mouth on you,” Aaron sighs, feigning the type of nonchalance that makes your cheeks heat. “Maybe you should put it to good use.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Your hands swiftly unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down, your mouth already watering. He helps you by lifting his hips up again and wiggling his jeans and briefs down until they’re mid-thigh, and then his hard cock is out, a pretty red with precum glistening at the tip. The way it looks against his vest, soft flesh contrasting against the rough material, has you licking your lips.

This has to be the best idea you’ve ever had.

Since Aaron was right about you possibly not having a lot of time, you forgo your usual teasing kitten licks for a broad stripe up his length and watch intently at the way the head of his cock brushes against his vest. Aaron jumps at the rough feeling against the sensitive head but lets out a low groan all the same. Something akin to glee fills you when you notice the wet patch his cock leaves on the blue fabric.

Aaron must notice because his hand is back on your head, putting pressure in a way that was hard to ignore. “You’re so filthy, practically begging me with those pretty eyes of yours to have my cock down your throat.”

You don’t answer, you know he’s not expecting one anyway. Instead, you grab his cock at the base, silently marveling at just how big he is in your hand, and lick another path up his cock before taking him fully in your mouth.

You always love sucking Aaron off— the weight of him on your tongue, the clean and musky taste of him, and the way he fills out your mouth and just feels so good in your hands. The best part is clearly the way he responds.

He groans deeply, a sound coming straight from within his chest, and you hear the thud from him throwing his head back against the headrest. You rest your free hand on his muscular thigh, marveling at the obvious way he’s attempting to hold himself back from immediately fucking into your mouth. He gives you a minute since it’s been a while, although you can feel the way his hand on your head clenches into a fist, patience already wearing thin.

You swirl your tongue around his head before taking more of him into your mouth, letting spit run down his length so you can stroke whatever you can’t fit in your mouth. You wish you had gotten a better look at his cock before doing this to marvel at the bulging veins, similar to his arms. Instead, you trace the vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue before coming back up to press against the head and coming up to flick your tongue against his leaking slit.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good, sweetheart.”

God, you wish you were able to see his face, the way he would be watching you with half-lidded eyes like he couldn’t decide whether to close them in pleasure or watch your lips stretch around him. He’d be biting at his lip, attempting to suppress his sounds because he’s still self-conscious about having his dick out in a government vehicle. He would have a crease between his brows, still trying to give you time to adjust and not giving in, and the flush on his neck would slowly rise up to his face.

But with the way you’re leaning with the console digging into you, your ass basically in the air, you can’t. As if Aaron read your mind, his right hand runs down your spine, leaving a hot trail in his wake, and down until he’s grabbing a handful of your ass. It’s so close to the aching heat of your pussy and your head spins when you start to wonder if he’s going to finger you like this or leave you wanting with wetness seeping through your pants.

The feeling of his hand on you and the way he inadvertently pushes you causes your mouth to slide another inch down his cock until your lips touch your fist. You moan, tightening your grip on his impossibly hard flesh, causing Aaron to let out another deep moan.

There’s another honk from behind the car and you suddenly remember that Aaron was right and you really don’t have a lot of time to waste.

So, you take a deep breath through your nostrils before you slide down until you could take as much of him as you could, spit starting to run out of the corners of your mouth, until he was hitting the back of your throat.

Aaron lets out a strangled sound, hips thrusting of his own accord. Luckily you were expecting it and you make sure to relax your jaw just a little bit more, slide down more until you move your hand away to settle on his thigh and your nose is pressed against neat curls. You focus on your heartbeat pounding in your ears and the feeling of his cock prodding at the back of your throat when you hold for two seconds and not the automatic way you want to gag before coming up to gasp in a breath. You barely hear the whisper of your name from Aaron’s lips before you’re taking him in his mouth again, easily due to how slick he is from your spit, until you’re deepthroating him.

“You always take my cock so well,” Aaron chokes out, his hands frantically coming to gather your hair in one hand before he barely pushes your head down and then back up. The hold he has on you isn’t rough, which you’re grateful for, but he still tugs you off his cock with a force that makes you dizzy. He makes you crane your neck at him, uncomfortably, but it’s worth it when you see the glazed look in his dark eyes and his parted lips as he pants in the air. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You know you’re panting just as hard, tears already starting to prickle at the corner of your eyes, and your mouth swollen. You know Aaron loves you like this, open-mouthed and silently begging. So, you can’t help yourself when you lick your lips, relishing in the way Aaron’s hungry gaze follows the movement, and say in a raspy voice “Yes, sir.”

You never would’ve guessed Aaron liked being called sir in the bedroom, though you secretly hoped, but you didn’t realize the full extent of it until you called him sir as a joke in his office and noticed the way his back stiffened and his breath stuttered. After that, you always got a kick out of teasing him, just to see what he had in store for you when you got home.

You know exactly what he has in store for you now, in fact you had planned it. Your skin prickles as Aaron’s eyes narrow and the line of his mouth flattens. His chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath and you watch the way the vest moves with him, shirt underneath stretching across him. He doesn’t say anything as he pushes you down, gentle enough so you know you could always back out if you wanted to.

You ignore the sore twinge in your neck as you wrap your lips around him again, closing your eyes to focus on covering your teeth, leaving one hand on his thigh in case you need to tap out and the other bent at the elbow to lean on the plush upholstery. You hear Aaron sigh blissfully when his cock slides back into your mouth, a hand gathering your hair again in a vice like grip, like he’s been thinking about this all week.

The way Aaron starts to fuck your mouth, you think you may be right. The thought of holding back seems to have been thrown out the window based on the noises he makes; guttural and heavy groans and whispered praises. Seeing his hips come off from the seat and into the warm wetness of your mouth and the easy glide of his cock between your lips is intoxicating, especially when added with the fact that you’re letting him.

The ache between your legs is almost overwhelming, pulsing with every thrust of Aaron’s hips against your face, and you wouldn’t be surprised if your panties were absolutely ruined by now from your arousal.

The sound of him fucking your mouth is obscene, lewd as the car is filled with the sounds of him hitting the back of your throat and his breathless pants. You let him take over and you watch with tears brimming at your eyes as his hips barely need to lift off the seat since he’s focusing all of his attention pulling you on and off his cock by your hair. The feeling of his cock thrusting in your mouth, of him using you to get himself off quickly is heady and so fucking hot.

You know he’s close when he starts to speed up, hips bucking into your open mouth frantically. You feel him start to pull you off of him in a silent question of where do you want me and the thought of him coming down your throat, hot and desperate, has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. The next time he thrusts into your mouth, you hold him there, the spot in the back of your throat deliciously raw.

“Jesus Christ,” you hear Aaron mutter through the blood rushing in your ears. “You want me to come in your mouth, sweetheart? So no one knows you were letting me fuck your mouth?”

You whimper, a muffled sound from your lips stretched around his cock, causing Aaron’s hips to stutter again. You pull off of him but you don’t move far, instead just barely hovering over the head, panting with your mouth open and tongue out, the message clear as day. You watch as Aaron’s free hand comes down to quickly jerk himself off.

“Fuck, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Everyone knowing how good you are for me?”

God, you really wish you could see his face, but to make up for it, you move to press your tongue against him as best as you could while his hand is a blur on his cock. You’re barely able to tongue the slit, the salty taste of his precum cutting through, when you hear the roaring of an engine and a train horn.

You realize the train’s finally moving, which means now you’re really running out of time.

You squeeze his thigh, not trusting your ability to speak, and Aaron wordlessly brings you down so you could further wrap your lips around the head of his cock, flicking your tongue against him, his hand continuing to bring himself off. The way his large hand envelops his thick cock, slick from your spit and squelching lewdly, has you pressing your thighs together in an effort to press the inseam of your pants against your clit, because the blur of his hand and his rhythmic grunts were so filthy.

It didn’t take long for Aaron’s raspy exhales to turn into a stuttered groan, his muscled thigh underneath your hand tensing, and his hips to snap up once, twice, before his come is shooting into your mouth in hot spurts. The bitter taste coats your tongue, your throat, and you swallow before you can think of it. You hollow your cheeks, taking more of him in your mouth and press your tongue against the slit to gather whatever is left despite the hiss you faintly hear, Aaron undoubtedly sensitive.

You lift up off him, using his leg as leverage, and ignore the soreness in your abdomen from the console pressing against your vest while you sucked your boss’s cock in a government issued vehicle. The ache between your thighs is nearly overwhelming, your panties melding against your pussy from how wet you were, and you secretly wished Aaron used his thick fingers to give you some relief while you went down on him.

The train just barely passes by you before the red lights stop flashing and the barriers come up, causing Aaron to hurriedly tuck himself back in his jeans and put the car back in drive. You’re just barely buckling your seatbelt in before you’re speeding off, the glaring lights from the cars behind you now a distant memory.

“You okay?” you ask after you’ve been driving in silence for nearly 5 minutes. You glance over at Aaron to see him almost done catching his breath, however his chest is still rising and falling deliciously so, especially still in that fucking vest. His jeans are still undone and you bite your lip when you notice a dried spot near the zipper where some of him must have escaped from the corner of your mouth. Oops.

Aaron shakes his head, ducking his head to chuckle breathlessly. He’s so endearingly handsome. “Never been more okay in my life.” And then he’s placing his hand on your thigh, fingertips so close to where you need him most, and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

At the next stoplight, Aaron finally does his jeans back up and then twists his body towards you. His eyes are still dark, bottom lip raw from where he must have been biting it, and then says to you again in a low voice “Come here.”

You obey, because how could you not, and then Aaron’s hand that was on your thigh is cradling your jaw to meet you halfway and kiss you, deeply. It’s a different kiss than the one he gave you earlier, more intense as his tongue slides against yours. He groans at the taste of himself in your mouth and you swear you fall a little more in love with him.

When he pulls back, he’s looking at you like you’re something precious, despite the fact that your hair must be a rat’s nest from his hands and your lips are swollen and chapped. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, something sweet twitching at the corner of his mouth. “You think you can wait until we get back to the hotel?”

You fail to hide your surprise because Aaron rarely wants to spend the night together on cases, which technically explains how you got here in the first place, the taste of come still at the back of your mouth and your panties sticking to you. He must really want to fuck you. You run your eyes over him, at the red light sharpening his features and his dimple just barely visible. You imagine him looming over you and holding onto the straps adorning his sides as he fucks mercilessly into you. “As long as you keep the vest on.”

The smile on Aaron’s face is blinding, causing your heart to stutter in your chest. You’re so screwed.

“Deal.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #mine #aaron hotchner fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

fuzzyautumninmetal · 8 months ago

Text

141 - First Words

So my baby said his first word the other day and mine and my partners reaction was fucking hilarious. Now I can't stop thinking about the 141 reaction to their baby saying Dada for the first time

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish would cry, like ugly tears type crying. No he does not care about the snot coming out of his nose, his precious baby just said Dada. He was on the floor playing with baby MacTavish during tummy time, you were in the kitchen cleaning up after you and Soap decided to bake Making another baby. Baby MacTavish is a chatter box like their daddy, always babbling and Soap answered back to baby MacTavish's very interesting story. Soap didn't hear it at first, he thought it was babbling nonsense until he heard it again. The simple word Dada and he's picking baby MacTavish up and rushing to the kitchen

Thay said Dada

Soap holding baby MacTavish up like a prize

Fuck off, you're lying (Your baby was growing up too quickly)

Their first word was Dada

Soap was already crying

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick would be shocked, swears he's going deaf because no way baby Garrick is talking already. Gaz was bouncing baby Garrick on his knee, pulling funny faces to hear their belly laugh, you were on Netflix trying to find a movie to watch. You were both were in your own world before baby Garrick screamed then ever so quietly said Dada, you and Gaz's head snapped towards each other as you stared at each other

Did they -

I think so

Gaz turning to baby Garrick

Did you say Dada? You can't have, you were born like last week

Babe they're 8 months old now

Nope. Still a wrinkly baby

Captain John Price would just smile, like a smug smile that baby Price's first word Dada. Make's him feel like he's the favourite parent Not realising that when baby Price is upset you can use the fact they can only say Dada against him "Sorry baby, they want you :)". Knowing Price's luck, baby Price will say Dada when he's at work. As soon as you hear the words you're on the phone ringing Price, he picks up at the first ring scared something happened. When you tell him what happened you best believe he's dropping everything to come home, doesn't matter if he's in a very important meeting with Laswell. Baby Price said Dada, he must go home at once

Price coming home and runs straight past you

See, I'm the favourite parent

John Baby... That's not how that works-

Price is ignoring you as he's kissing baby Price's cheeks

I'm gonna buy you anything you want. Just say Dada again. Please

Simon 'Ghost' Riley also cries. He'll cry silent tears as he holds baby Riley to his chest, years ago he never thought he'd have his own family and now he's here. Witnessing his baby's first words. Ghost, being the excellent father he is, basically forced you to finally go out for girls night knowing you needed time to yourself. Ghost couldn't wait for a night of tummy time, playing and just straight up cuddling while watching Bluey. Baby Riley was laid on their daddy's chest, trying to fight sleep but failing miserably and just before baby Riley fell asleep they said Dada as they clutched to Ghost's shirt.

Did you say Dada

Ghost didn't move realising baby Riley is now asleep

God I never thought I'd love anyone more then I love your mummy

Ghost carefully hugs baby Riley tighter

But then you came into my life. Best thing to ever happy to me and your mummy

795 notes · View notes

snickerdoodlles · 1 year ago

Text

can we really? because that's not been my experience in this fandom.

western fandom has a consistent problem in overriding other cultures with their own. emphasis on western holidays/traditions, western folklore/stories, western customs, the specific way western cultures engage with queer topics/politics. this happens constantly for all eastern media, but to me it's always seemed particularly egregious for Thai media and esp Thai bl (tbf, this is potentially because it's one of my bigger online spaces while also not being a big space so it's just what I'm seeing more of, but it is so bad). people often push back with either "it's just a joke" or "you can't expect everyone to just know everything about [other culture] just for fanfic/fandom," except that only applies when people have made the effort to learn about that culture. it's not an excuse to ignore it completely.

and what's so mind-boggling to me about moonlight chicken in particular is the constant sectioning of Jim, Wen, and Li Ming into "different generations of queer." They aren't! Jim was running a restaurant while happily in an open queer relationship with his boyfriend, yet the fucking number of times I've had to see "lol internalized homophobia" (do you guys know what internalized homophobia means) or "he's from a different generation of queer where theyre resigned to being queer" (fucking WHAT?!) posts is overwhelming huge to the number of times I've seen posts that acknowledge or engage with moonlight chickens extremely pointed narrative that social acceptance is not enough when the law does not protect queer people's rights and what happened to Jim can still happen to Wen, still happen to Li Ming. (I have seen. 2 posts that engage with it. one of which was mine. I blocked the tag for a good 8 months because it was so overwhelmingly "lol internalized homophobia" posts.)

I genuinely don't mean this comment directly to you. I don't mean this as a "no fun allowed" comment either, but Thai bl fandom, moonlight chicken fandom esp, is so. bad. about ignoring the heavily Thai cultural elements of its narrative that none of the jokes are funny in the larger fandom context.

its so weird seeing posts that mock uncle jim for worrying about li ming's queerness as though his dead boyfriend's parents (legally) stealing his entire life savings and leaving him to manage a restaurant business specifically because gay couples aren't legally recognized as couples wasn't what put him in a cycle of crushing debt and endless poverty in the first place

#moonlight chicken #again don't mean this at this tagger specifically #they just managed to hit a hot button of mine #theres a heavily prevalent attitude that its okay to skip learning about another culture because 'its just fandom'/'im doing this for free'#you know whats also free people!#MAKING A FUCKING EFFORT #i just.#moonlight chicken puts so much care and thought and very personal emotion into the struggles of being queer and of being impoverished #and particularly in how those issues compound #jim and his sister only had each other and ran away looking for better opportunities #jim's only family relationship was strained by his queerness #jim chose his queer happiness and lived a fulfilling life openly with his boyfriend including acting married (shared business shared home)#even tho he and his boyfriend could not actually get married or any sort of civil engagement/binding that would be legally binding #and because this binding was not legal. when his boyfriend was not only revealed to have an ENTIRELY SEPARATE SECRET LIFE and then DIED #before jim could have any proper confrontation with him (and thereby also have a chance to sort out/separate his personal affairs)#which then enabled his boyfriends parents to take *everything* from him #they ~deigned~ to leave him a business even tho they removed all of his previous gains which are *super fucking needed* in that business #and like. this isn't actually a thai thing. this is a very very VERY common queer narrative. its a large part of why queer marriage was #the centralized issue/banner for queer rights. recognizing queer unions as *legal* unions is a Big Fucking Deal #western nations have not recognized queer marriage rights until pretty recently. US's national legalization of it is less than 10 years old #this is still pretty new and it only happened because of all the '''''old'''''' queers online spaces pretend dont exist. the loud and proud #ones who fought bloodily for these rights. and. a LOT of queer thai directors have been discussing how social acceptance is not enough #because thailand has a queer friendly face via media but absolutely none of the legislature protecting queer rights #the way western fandoms interact with thai bl ignores their own queer history and thailands current queer culture in favor of their own #personal distorted reality where only under 20s (MAYBE 25s if theyre feeling generous) have fought for and openly accepted queerness.#its dismissive and infuriating and so many other things. the *relentless* jokes and discussions of jim being a ~queer elder~ (he's not)#and at the very least careless and thoughtless flattening of his internalized homophobia (and. he doesnt really have that. but i digress)#its just not funny. at what point are the jokes jokes and at what point do the jokes become harmful ignorance #this is a problem in a lot of thai bl and asian bl media overall.#but this fandom in particular is *so* bad about it

380 notes · View notes

domuspeccati · 6 months ago

Text

Day 16 : A Little Friction

Ft. Natty

Kink : Intercrural Sex

Natty places one hand on your thigh. “I’m ready,” she tells you. The beautiful Thai girl stands in front of you in all of her nude glory. The bare body shines in the light, her curves becoming illuminated by the flash of your camera.

“Definitely making that my lockscreen,” you joke. You then put your phone on the sofa. Once the mobile device is placed face-down, you stand up. Placing one foot in front of the other while approaching Natty, you crack your knuckles to relieve the tension and prepare your hands for a round of wandering.

She stares you down like a prey observing the approaching predator. “What do you want with me?” Natty asks playfully. She puts one hand out and it is met with one of yours. As your fingers interlock with hers, Natty prepares for the inevitable by turning around to place her backside in the direction of your bulge.

You rub your cock on Natty’s ass and smile. “You’re not afraid of anyone seeing?” The question hangs before she snatches it out of the air and replies.

“I have been watched before.” She puts her arms down, resting them on either side of her body. “That party is still fresh on my mind.” Natty giggles and looks down to see your hands go for her chest.

“Never gets old, does it?” you ask her. When Natty moans, you take that as a response. Your hands caress her chest, getting an excellent feel of her tan mounds. “I have every single curve of your body memorized.” You kiss Natty’s cheek and bring two fingers to the girl’s nipples before pulling them gently.

Natty whimpers as her nipples are played with. “Have mercy,” she begs. The sensual tone in her voice indicates that she wants more. Only she can tell just how much more she wants. Her juices begin to drip from her pussy as your fingers move away from her nipples and her breasts are cupped.

You look over her shoulder, taking a peek at her chest. Her body has always looked amazing to you, but it looks exceptionally wonderful today. Your cock rubs against her asscheeks as you get closer to her. Now that there’s minimal room between your body and Natty’s, one of your hands goes down her body.

She feels chills down her spine. Natty happily accepts the movement of your hands, especially since one is inching down her body. “I dare you,” she says. Her train of thought is interrupted by your hand sliding between the lower lips. Once the first two fingers on your left hand slide between Natty’s folds without penetrating, she releases a moan from her parted lips. Natty has never been more prepared for your cock than she is right now.

You think about how you and Natty got into this position. As your fingers contemplate entry, you remember how things went earlier today. You witnessed Natty strip in front of you to reveal her body. At this point, you were still fully clothed.

The wandering mind nourishes your erection. You remember how she sensually bit her lip and covered her tits with one forearm. Her other hand went down to her pussy and covered it, making her assume a position similar to a Renaissance painting. The image is still very fresh in your mind.

Natty’s body, both in your memory and in the material world, awaits your touches. Your brain feeds you images of everything that happened earlier. After she uncovered her body, you remember her getting on her knees for you. The memory of the kneeling girl causes your cock to throb against her ass.

While you continue to stimulate yourself with your mind’s own version of a flashback, you feel your cock being grabbed. This reminds you of the moment when she tugged on the zipper of your jeans. Her hands worked quickly to remove your jeans before removing your underwear.

You recall just what she said to you in the heat of the moment. “No entry for you today,” she said, seemingly teasing you. “Today’s all about trying new things. I’ve never had it between my legs before.” With that, the Natty in your memory goes silent once more to toss your jeans and underwear aside.

The flashback continues as Natty stands up. She, as far as you can remember, stood up and leaned over. While her tits were swinging in your face, Natty placed one hand on your lap and another hand on your shoulder. The girl then moved her hand to the lower hem of your shirt and told you to raise your arms.

You raised your arms just as you were asked. Once your hands were lifted above your head, your shirt was removed from your body. You watched the shirt get thrown onto the stack of clothes, along with your jeans and underwear.

Natty then placed your pile of clothes next to her pile of clothes. When she came back over to you, she looked into your eyes. “Gonna take a picture?” she asked you. Natty then playfully posed and stood in the center of the room, assuming a relaxed stance similar to how a model for a painting would stand.

A tug on your shaft pulls you from your thoughts. “Ready?” Natty asks you. She slips your cock between her tan thighs and smirks. “I’ve been anticipating this moment. Be patient with me because I’ve never done this before.”

You smile as she’s successfully snapped you back to reality. “Sorry, I was daydreaming.” You laugh and move your hand to her clit as your other forearm goes under her breasts to support them. Once Natty gets going, you softly moan in the ear of your partner. “This already feels pretty good.”

Natty looks down to see your tip peeking through her thighs. “I’m glad you think so.” She touches two fingers to her vagina, moaning as she smears the juices and collects them on her fingers. After collecting her juices, Natty loosens the grip that her thighs have on your shaft. She smears the juices on your cock and then guides it up to her pussy to lube it up more.

“Fuck,” you moan. “You always know how to get me going.” You feel the slightly sticky substance coat your cock as it is then placed back between her thighs. Once Natty puts the rod between her legs again, you feel the soft but meaty thighs embrace it. You kiss her neck and caress her body. “Go on. Try it out.”

Natty smiles and smushes her thighs against your shaft. “Is it already throbbing from being covered in my juices?” She teases you by pressing her thighs together again. This time she keeps the grip and slowly moves back and forth.

You bring one hand back to her chest. “Let me,” you tell her. When Natty slows down, she eventually comes to a stop. You then fondle a breast with one hand and use your other to stimulate her clit. “You’re so damn wet,” you moan in Natty’s ear as you begin to thrust between her smooth thighs.

She looks down to see your tip poking out from between her thighs. Natty watches your thrusts, carefully monitoring the slow movements to see how she feels about them. The girl feels your hips bucking against her each time they come forward.

Natty smiles, satisfied with the feeling of a thighjob. She stays still, unsure of how to continue other than keeping her pussy wet and keeping her thighs together. Natty gently rubs her thighs against your lubed cock, creating a little bit of friction with every single one of your deliberate thrusts.

You speed up, changing it up for your sake and hers. You fight back against her playful advances, pushing between her grinding thighs. Once you begin to throb, you come to a stop between her thighs.

She realizes that you want to trade control. “I’m down for that,” she moans. As you play with Natty’s clit, she rubs her thighs against your shaft. She then feels you grab her hands, a sensation that makes the girl stop. Natty has one of her hands guided to her chest and the other guided to her clit.

Now that both of her hands are keeping her occupied, you use this chance to overwhelm her. You take control once more and thrust between Natty’s thighs as she fondles her breasts and plays with her pussy.

Natty screams in ecstasy as you fuck her thighs. “FUCK ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT!” she yells, getting overstimulated by the combination of your hands, her hands, and your cock. Natty then feels two of your fingers sliding into her soaked pussy. The fingers being pushed between her pussy lips makes the juices drip past your hands, creating a small puddle of her own nectar beneath her.

You accept her challenge and speed up. As the speed increases, your intensity does as well. You take advantage of Natty, continuing to use her overwhelmed body. You fuck her thighs hard and fast, quickly pounding between the gap in her thighs. Your cock throbs from being stuffed between the meaty portion of her legs.

She feels your fingers push deeper into her pussy. The sensations all over her body prove to be too much for her. Natty clamps around your fingers, holding them tightly inside of her pussy as she gets to the brink of her orgasm.

You know the signs all too well. Despite knowing that she’s about to orgasm, you continue to finger her slightly faster. You then slow down and withdraw your fingers from her slit and keep pounding her thighs to see just how much it takes to push this girl over the edge and into the world of ecstasy.

Your answer comes rather quickly. Natty closes her eyes and bites her lips to prevent herself from screaming again. She shakes as her orgasm takes over. The juices spray from her body, soaking your hand and hers. Natty fondles her breasts with one hand and then looks down as she continues to spray juices all over your hand and the floor, creating a mess for her to clean up later.

Natty keeps it coming as you slap her pussy. When your fingers smack her lower lips, the juices splatter even more. She looks past her tits to see your tip peeking out from her thighs even more frequently. “Fuck yes,” Natty moans. The girl attempts to catch her breath as her orgasm winds down, but your hand rubbing her pussy lips makes it hard for her to come down from her sexual high.

You bring your soaked fingers up to Natty’s mouth. Without even saying a single word to her, you see that she understands what you want her to do. As Natty sucks her juices from your fingers, your cock frantically twitches between her legs.

She smiles as you remove your fingers from her mouth. “That feels so good,” Natty says, moaning as your fingers touch her pussy once more. She looks down to see your tip continuously peeking out from between her legs again. Natty feels more aroused as she watches you fuck her thighs with deep thrusts.

Natty looks back at you and kisses you deeply as you fuck her thighs harder. Her thighs rub against your length while her tongue slides into your mouth. She moans as your lips pull away from hers. “Paint me,” she begs. “Cover my tan thighs in your cum.”

She scrubs her juicy thighs against your shaft as you fuck them harder than before. Determined to make you blast, Natty tries every single thing that she can think of. She then brings her grinding thighs to a stop and backs her ass up against you. One of her hands reaches down to play with your tip.

The feeling of your tip being played with by Natty’s hand only adds to the pleasure for you. You release a soft moan as she cups her hand over your tip, apparently wanting to catch all of your cum in her palm.

You smile and feel that you can’t hold on any longer. With a satisfied groan, you release your seed onto Natty’s hand. You keep thrusting after releasing the initial spurt. As the ropes of sperm continue to be shot out, you watch Natty raise her hand to her mouth to taste the first bit of the load.

Natty feels your cock twitching between her thighs as you keep cumming. The subsequent thrusts excite her even more and she enjoys the taste of your cum. She then brings her hand back down to her thighs to smear the load.

After you finish your orgasm, you withdraw your cock from her thighs. You then rub it on her ass to clean it a little by smearing the last bit of love nectar on her asscheeks. “Good girl,” you tell Natty as you look back over at your clothes. You begin to walk over to the pile of clothes but Natty stops you.

“Not yet,” she tells you. Natty goes over to her stack of clothes and smiles. “They need to be washed anyway.” She then grabs her panties and walks over to the mess on the floor. Natty cleans it with her panties, using the underwear to clean your seed off of the floor. She then turns to face you and smirks. “Wanna watch me stuff them in?”

You chuckle and kiss her neck as she stands back up. “I would love to,” you tell her. “Why don’t you do that and then suck me dry?” You then go back over to the furniture and assume a seated position. While Natty shows you the panties, you wait patiently for her to stuff them in. You watch her insert them into her pussy slowly and think about just how hungry this girl could possibly be.

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kpop smut #kiof #kiss of life #kiss of life smut #natty smut #m reader x natty #intercrural sex

470 notes · View notes

sxorpiomooon · 8 months ago

Text

YOUR FS FEELINGS AFTER YOUR FIRST DATE - A PAC READING

Paid readings

$5 reading

Tip me

Pile 1-

I think pile 1's fs will meet them right after their breakup with someone or right after they had let go of something very big, something that no longer served them. Also the first thing I got was shutting down so they might be really tired when they first see or meet you and I also think it'll be late at night. I also think this late was very much delayed for some reason? It's almost as if accepting your fate like you try to avoid something so hard but can't stop it from happening so you just give in by the end. That's sort of the vibe for some reason? Lmaaao this is so funny bc right after the date they will immediately feel the need to rush things and they will be scared of rushing things too. This sort of reminds me of how people always say that the moment they met their fs they immediately knew and wanted to marry them that's the vibe. I see things going quickly too right after the first date, i see you guys going on alot of dates together I'm getting a vision of like a roller coaster date? Also you girlies are PRETTY PRETTY I had a vision of those trendy skirts and softy haha. This pile might have girlies with Libra placements I heard venus as well ANYWAYS I think your fs will immediately know it's like they will forget everything and now they are so hyped up to sum up the entire thing I heard "i belong"

Pile 2-

Hmmm I see a conflict here or two people meeting together after years? This kinda second chance romance type shit imma NGL. I also think that there is some history there as I said it might be you guys starting as enemies or simply second chance romance. Right after I wrote this my father started singing a song which basically translates to "don't leave me now" or abhi na jaao chord ke for those who want to give it a listen. Whatever it is oh y'all gonna have your LORES. Anyways I see two people legit being so grumpy on a date 😭😭 sipping their drinks this might be near water or a really pretty scenary I also hear beautiful instruments playing. Anyways all this won't last long bc I see and hear very warm laughter of both of you it's like you know in movies two people fighting something happens and they crack a laugh there's this eye contact and then one of them says or admits that "I missed you" THATS THHE VIBE OML. I see a familiar feeling that you have with an old friend. I heard "old habits die hard" out of nowhere. I also see you guys sort of making a note of learning from your past experiences to build a good solid future. This connection will be tested alot but I do see you guys being resilient. Honestly very beautiful vibe.

Pile 3-

HELL NAWWW LMAAAAAAAAAAAAO THID MAN WILL THINK THAT HE HAS TANKED THE DATE COMPLETELY DESTROYED OVER THIS HE WILL THINK THAT HE IS ABSOLUTELY DONE AND FINISHED AND THAT JE WILL NEVER GET THIS CHANCE AGAIN AND THAY JE IS A LOSER WHO FUCKED THIS CHANCE UP AND FUMBLED A BADDIE LMAAAAAAO. I see this man losing his shit legit whining wailing crying that he fucked up😭😭 I think he sort of a loser when it comes to communication. I jus see him shuttering n shit for those who are watching serendipity embrace(kdrama) the vibe is exactly like that second lead pt teacher lmao. I see him being so anxious after the first date bc he will think that he has tanked it. I think he might come across as someone who's very formal and has alot of attitude but in reality he will just not know how to talk😭 I don't even see him being able to gather the courage to hold eye contact with you. However, I do see something out of nowhere happening whether it will be him being able to meet you again or you texting him something good with happen and he will be very surprised to receive this chance or opportunity

Pile 4-

I don't see a very good vibe overall I won't lie. I see your fs being very confused with the entire date. I just think that things will perhaps not go well for this pile and I know exactly why it'll happen. One person will try to speed things up too much and it will scare the other person off. I just see one person trying to hurry everything up and it just being a big turn off for the other person. I think what this pile can try to do is perhaps not take things too fast and let the other person take their time as well. The more you try to speed things up the more it'll scare the other person off and it will end up in a disappointment. I'm sorry I couldn't give you much positive my pile 4<3

541 notes · View notes

sillyteecup · 1 month ago

Text

A Lethal Shot Of Passion

Terry Richmond x black!o.c

Warnings:

18+

Swearing/Cursing

Minor injuries

Alcohol consumption

Innocent character held at gunpoint

Smut

Unprotected sex (please bazalwane, one condom one round)

Gunplay (minor) (logic does not live here besties)

Breath play

Degradation

Impact play

Edging

Orgasm denial

These people just might hate each other

Technically stalking ig

Word count: 5468🧍🏾‍♀️

A.N: so, here's my very late submission for the Terry Birthday bas by @megamindsecretlair . Also, introducing the Milaverse where I will be writing a bunch of oneshots, all in different universes with there only being 3 constants: Mila, Terry, and smut. I really wanted to do a fluffy one this time around but I couldn't get this out of my head, so the next one will hopefully be some cutesy stuff. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this, and thanks for reading and engaging. (also, let me know if you wanna be on the taglist for all Milaverse fics)

~Tee❤️

Ah yes, Sundays.

Good food, a glass of wine, good music, maybe a good trip, but most importantly, good old peace and quiet. Relaxation aside, Sundays meant no work calls for Mila, which meant no dealing with her annoying Team Leader, Terry. In another life, this would have been enough for her to believe in God.

Having finished what was supposed to be a weekend-long mission in Singapore in a mere day, Mila had taken her early clock out as a vacation opportunity. And so there she was, in Phuket with her locs in a ponytail, and a clay face mask, wearing nothing but her older brother's old Outkast t-shirt and a pair of white crocs, lounging before a lush mountain view enjoying her third glass of Shiraz. A knock sounded at the front door of the villa, making her groan. The knock was soon followed by the familiar voice of one of the housekeeping ladies announcing herself. Mila pressed her lips together in mild annoyance as this was the second time she'd have to exist in the company of the older and mouthy lady, completely killing the peace she enjoyed in solitude.

“Coming!” she called as she ruefully placed the glass of wine on the table in front of her.

In 5 long, impatient strides, she reached the door and opened it to a view that irritated her to no end.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped, glaring at the disruption standing before her.

“Oh, room servi-” Mrs Suwan began to respond before being cut off by Mila.

“I'm sorry Mrs Suwan but I'm actually talking to the big headed oaf behind you,” Mila said, eyes narrowing at the 6’1, now green eyed, honey skinned, undying pain in her ass behind the much shorter and somewhat terrified looking Thai woman.

Terry's lips quirked into what one would swear was a smile, but to Mila was a nasty sneer. “Now Mila, that's no way to talk to your husband who's trying to surprise you,” he spoke cooly, baffling Mila. She noticed Mrs Suwan wince slightly as her body jerked suddenly.

Which meant-

“Especially after everything I went through to make it happen,” he added, now through gritted teeth, confirming her suspicion. Terry was angry, and angry Terry was someone nobody dared to knowingly tango with. Even more so when he had a weapon in his hand. So Mila played along, hoping he would release the older woman between them if she let him in.

“Mila,” Terry said, snatching her out of her head and right back into the real world. The real world where he glared at her expectantly while still maintaining that strained grin.

She swallowed her pride and wore an expression that rivaled his. “I'm sorry sweetheart, I just wasn't expecting you. Come on in,” she bit out as sweetly as she humanly could.

Although the intense staring contest with Terry continued, Mila caught a glimpse of Mrs Suwan’s posture relaxing in her peripheral, as the quiet click of a gun being put on safety sounded behind her. “Thank you, Mrs Suwan. I'll be leaving a generous tip for your services,” he said, not once letting his smoldering glare at Mila falter.

Suwan nodded and scurried away, likely about to cry or throw up from trauma. Although sympathetic, Mila paid her no mind, only focusing on Terry, whose smile instantaneously dropped the moment she left.

“She couldn't even see you smiling, you fucking idiot,” Mila hissed, making no move to let him into her temporary space.

"I was committing to the bit.”

“While holding her at gunpoint?”

“Nudge in the right direction.”

A beat passed in the middle of their back and forth as Mila took in his appearance properly. With a duffel bag slung over shoulder, he was dressed in a royal blue knit golfer that revealed his bulging muscular arms, and navy slacks that likely shaped that juicy ass she often stole glances at during training, at the gym and during post-mission se-

His face however, didn't sell the polished image too well. Aside from the likely cut that was hidden beneath the bandage on his eyebrow, the remnants of his last fight were glaring. A split lower lip, dark with dried blood, a cut healing along his tense jaw, and most obviously, the dark bruise forming below his left eye, all told her everything she needed to know about his weekend.

“You look like shit,” was all she said though, not sure if it was safe to ask why.

Terry's features scrunched up in momentary distaste at the comment, before he took another to scan her appearance, basically eye-fucking her with his cutting gaze.

“Well you don't look so fresh and so clean yourself 3-stacks,” he retorted cooly, his bluff making Mila roll her eyes.

“Whatever nigga,” was all she said before she stepped to the side to finally let him into the villa.

Terry stepped in but not without immediately dropping his back onto the one of the couches, slamming the door behind him and grabbing Mila's wrist to drag her into the kitchen. He cornered her against the counter where the rest of her ingredients lay abandoned. His nostrils flared subtly, as his usual even glare bore through her with a tinge of fury. His large hands were on her sides, gripping at the edge of the counter and caging her in should she attempt an escape.

“You've been annoyingly hard to find,” he stated, his tone low and dangerous, like him in the field.

“It's almost like that's my literal job description,” Mila bit out sarcastically, her fiery glare matching his to a T.

Terry's jaw shifted as he likely ground his teeth. Mila fought the urge to respond with a quip about how that was bad for his precious pearly whites that he cared about so much. But she had already committed to being passively rebellious and she figured he was in no mood to hear a joke about his appearance. Especially considering his current state.

“Last I checked, ghosting your Team Leader wasn't in your contract,” Terry scoffed, his burning gaze setting her skin ablaze.

“Neither is having said Team Leader barge into my personal space on a Sunday, yet here you are,” Mila snarked, getting increasingly impatient.

Terry let out a sardonic chuckle, before firmly grabbing her chin. “Mila, I am not in the best mood right now, so I advise that for your own sake, you watch your fucking tone,” he snarled, venom dripping from his deep baritone.

Ignoring the shiver his tone sent down her spine, she tilted her head up even further, her eyes blazing with defiance. “Or what? You stick a gun against my forehead till you get your way? Nah, you're too much of a bitch to do that to your equals. I know, you're gonna pull out the usual! Bend me over and fuck me silly till I catch an attitude again? Huh Bitchmond? You gonna-” her tirade was promptly cut off by the hand that previously held her chin, now firmly gripping her throat, almost promising to tear it out. An additional surprise was the cold barrel of a gun pressing her chin.

“How ‘bout I do you one better? How ‘bout I shut that big ass mouth of yours and make you gag and slobber all over this here glock. And then when you've got it all nice and wet for me, I'll use it fuck that pretty little cunt of yours till the only thing you can remember is that I am your fucking superior,” he muttered darkly, every last ounce of restraint turning to dust.

Tears pricked through Mila’s eyes as with every word he cut off more and more air from her lungs. This made her pooling arousal all the more disgraceful to an unfamiliar spectator. However this was what Mila decided she wanted the moment she invited him in. No one, except Mila dared to knowingly Tango with an angry Terry, because to her, angry Terry meant sweet, twisted release that nobody else could grant her. Only she knew which buttons to push and how. Only she could rile him up and get exactly what she wanted from his rage.

Still, she mentally cursed herself when she noticed how her lack of underwear caught his attention, like a wolf catching the scent of prey. His hazel irises darkened even more than what Mila thought was possible, as a dark sneer spread across his face.

“Of course you like that shit. You. Filthy. Little. Whore,” he snickered mockingly, punctuating every word with a taunting tap to the cheek with the gun.

“Safe word?” he demanded, loosening his grip on her neck but not completely removing his hand.

“Moonstone,” Mila choked, struggling to speak between the breaths she was trying to catch up on.

“Who?”

“Sir.”

And with that confirmation of consent, the show was back on as Terry grinned slyly. He traced the butt of the gun along her left cheek, drawing lines and circles until he reached the corner of her lips. “Safety’s still on. Open up,” he commanded raspily.

Ever defiant, Mila parted her lips and spat out a defiant, “fuck you.” Terry's grin morphed into a malicious sneer as his grip around her throat tightened once again, snatching her right to breathe.

“Now I already told you that I ain't in the mood for no bullshit, so open that fucking mouth or God help Me I'm going to rip your fucking jaw in half with my bare fucking hands,” he seethed, fury laced in his still low tone.

A spark of rebellion passed through Mila's eyes as she spat in his face. Anything to get him to completely snap and make their little game go faster.

Children, this is a cautionary tale to be careful what you wish for.

His eyes went cold, and the rest of his features emotionless. He removed his hand from her skin and took a step back to retrieve a handkerchief from one of the pockets of his slacks. He wiped the substance from his face, his features not moving an inch from their stoic state. He then balled the now wet material up and marched back up to Mila whose triumphant smirk fell into a fearful grimace as she tried to book it for the room upstairs. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough, as signified by Terry's iron grip on her ponytail yanking her back against him.

“You know that was fucking stupid right?” he demanded, voice ragged from his labored breaths.

Understanding that she had flown too close to the sun, Mila internally surrendered. “Yes sir,” she whimpered in a mix of fear and pain from the sting of her thoughts being snatched out of her scalp.

“And you know what comes next right?”

Mila sighed as realization set in. Nothing is ever worth a week of paralysis from the waist down, yet that was exactly what she had ordered. Lust made her irrational and now she was gonna pay the price. But what else was new?

“Yes sir.”

While parts of her legs ached from being pushed and practically dragged up the stairs of the villa, a disgusting sting of excitement burned all over Mila’s skin. Yes, she was fucked, but she was also about to be fucked: a win was a win. Even when Terry let go of her locs as he discarded her onto white covered, large double bed that took up most of the space in the room...until Terry stepped in of course, she couldn’t help but to rub her thighs together to quell the anticipation making itself known underneath the oversized t-shirt. Her Team Leader, for all his quirks on the more annoying side, was what she considered an amazing lay who never failed to shake her world up whenever it collided with his. And that was just on his more mildly frustrated, but relatively nonchalant days. Although she had never crossed this far into the inferno that was Terry’s notoriously violent rage, she had learned on a few occasions that once her little green-eyed monster’s nostrils flared, a time was about to be had, albeit at the cost of functional lower limbs.

You win some, you lose some.

She used all her might to fight the smirk that threatened to tug at her lips, but it was futile. By the way the flecks in Terry’s irises darkened blazed momentarily, she had lost dismally. He stood silently at the foot of the bed, the decade in Academi evident in his bone straight posture. In his hand, like an extension of the limb, was the tool that had aided his rampage, threatening as it gleamed against the dim glow of the lamps that illuminated the bedroom. Even with the remnants of his last fight, he still looked unreal. The soft, luscious pink lips, the glow of his honey skin, and those deep bright eyes whose natural state eluded her due to his guarded demeanor and ever changing moods, had maintained his otherworldly appearance; but the bruises and cuts that littered his godly face, came with the addition of something more rugged. His steely and borderline hateful glare melted with a drizzle of desire while he likely contemplated how to deal with Mila’s blatant disregard for his authority. Mila itched with the need to break the biting ice. She had even settled on a quip about how he looked even sexier when he was beat up, but Terry’s low and cold tone beat her to the punch.

“You’re excited,” he noted, a hint of irritation inflecting in his tone.

“I know what I’m in for. Sue me for reacting accordingly,” she retorted with a shrug, a miniscule prior semblance of submission having evaporated under the heat of his gaze.

Terry let out a near silent but all the more sinister snicker as he shook his head and scratched his jaw. “You a smart little bitch aren’t ya? Aight then Einstein, that little toy you carry everywhere? In my hand. Now!” the command came out as a growl that Mila immediately obeyed.

After a quick search through her suitcase and her second toiletry bag, Mila retrieved the hot pink and royal purple silicone toy and its accompanying lube, and immediately placed them both in his outstretched palm. Terry hummed approvingly at her obedience before speaking again: “I’m giving you 5 minutes to wash your face while I head downstairs and get something to drink. By the time I get back up here, I want you on this bed, naked, on your back and with your legs wide open for me,” he instructed, leaving the two new additions to his arsenal on one of the complementary towels splayed across one of the corners of the bed.

And that’s exactly what she did. She rinsed her mask off then cleansed and scrubbed away at her face before moisturising. She tossed her t-shirt into the guest hamper in the bathroom and slid the crocs off her pedicured feet. She then assumed the given position, slowly lying back into the foam mattress covered in white sheets and duvets, and spreading her legs wide enough to give Terry a clear view of what awaited him.

The man of the hour returned to the room with his duffel around his shoulder, the bottle of Mila’s Shiraz, and a single glass. Mila watched, antsy as he dropped his bag near the bathroom door and set the wine and the glass on one of the nightstands. He then wordlessly moved to climb the bed, kneeling at the edge and reaching out to grab Mila by the backs of her thighs and yanking her towards him, eliciting a sharp squeal. A loud slap rang through the room, followed by a yelp. His calloused hands struck the outside of her thighs, one by one, one sharp smack after another. All Mila could muster were cries of pain and lust as the stinging on her thighs birthed an ugly baby named arousal. The suddenness of Terry’s attack sent her reeling and unable to think straight, which was ironic considering the fact that she was trained to maintain cognisance regardless of what was being thrown her way.

Unfortunately no amount of training can prepare you for the wrath of Terrence Richmond, fuck or foe.

“Just ‘cause ain’t a paddle, don’t mean you shouldn’t be counting,” Terry stated gruffly as he increased the pressure of each smack.

“I don’t know-” she cried out before being promptly cut off by a moan that tore from her own throat at an even harder crack.

“Then figure it out. Ain’t that what smart-mouthed whores like you do?” he asked, mockingly. “You better get that shit right too, ‘cause I don’t mind improvising and starting from the top to wear that ass out properly,” he promised with a malicious sneer.

Mila mentally clawed at her own brain, desperate to figure out what number they were on. Maybe in the first 5, she would have gotten to the answer immediately, but Terry had waited before reminding her, and worst of all he wasn’t even stopping. This light-skinned, grinch-eyed motherfucker had set her up for failure from the start and judging from the growing tent in his slacks, he was getting off on it. Except Mila would have had the chance to avoid the brick wall if she had just remembered to count from the start. And there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind that he would keep his promise and get creative: painfully creative. But right as the thought crossed her mind, Terry’s assault came to an abrupt halt, leaving Mila’s thighs a smoking debris on the outside and a soaked mess on the inside. He was getting dangerously unpredictable.

“Hmm, I’m over here singing your praises, calling you a genius little slut, but you can’t even do something as simple as count? Disappointing,” he taunted with a scrutinizing glare. He sucked his teeth in as he leaned over to grab the vibrator from the towel, slowly moisturizing it with the lube next to it.

Her teary brown eyes met his steely, focused silver ones as he harshly wrenched her legs apart. His features softened when he once again caught a whiff of her sweet, vanilla-peach scent, eyes closing as the pads of his fingers danced lightly on her skin while he basked in it with a slow inhale. Mila bit back a smile at what was to come. Her pussy may have just thrown Terry off whatever treacherous course he had intended for her…or he had just cut her punishment short and was about to fuck her anyway. Either way, what bliss. Terry’s expression however turned back to stone as he had freed himself from the momentary trance. Mila held space though, hoping that despite whatever he had planned, she would still get her fill.

“You’ve gotten too damn comfortable with me Mila. I knew that little attitude of yours would be a problem the moment you were assigned to me, but I thought I could fix it. I tried tougher drills, I tried harder warm-ups, and you just got worse. So I got alternative, I tried being nice, and unfortunately all that did was make me care about you beyond your safety on the field,” he vented, still keeping his tone low and menacing. Mila recalled how he had been a nuclear asshole when she had first joined his team. He had already been a bit of a standoffish prick by the time she arrived, but her defiance against his tone and unreasonable drills sent him over the edge.

So Mila pushed even further. Terry then reverted-actually became more tolerable than when she had met him. Sure, his tone still had a bite to it when he spoke to her, but he was more considerate and more respectful. Never nice though. Which is why she had been surprised when he told her that she was slowly becoming his weakness and that he was finding it harder and harder to pull away from her. And despite their past spats, Mila was forced to confront her desire for him and her enjoyment of their incessant push-and-pull. That was how they built what she called their “healthily toxic love affair”. Without the love of course, because to Terry, outside of his concern for her safety, it was still about keeping her under control.

“Then you let me take creative liberty when you let me fuck it out of you. I thought giving you wanted would quell that agitating fire in you, but I was wrong. So fucking wrong, because now you’re disappearing on me, ignoring warnings, calling me out my name. Spitting in my gotdamn face,” he gritted through his teeth, fingers still tracing light circles, effectively igniting another flame on her inner thighs.

Mila tucked her lip between her teeth, keeping a snarky retort down her throat because the universe knows that Terry’s fury would likely tear through it and her if she said what was on her mind.

“I can’t keep giving you everything if you can’t give me the one thing I expect of you. Come on Einstein, tell me what that is,” he said with an expectant glare.

“Respect,” Mila replied softly, earning another sharp smack, this time to her inner thigh at the incomplete answer. “Respect sir, ‘m sorry,” she whimpered.

“Trust me Mila, unless you tap out and say your safeword, you will be,” he expressed, his dark promise coated in sincerity.

“I don’t wanna say it sir.”

“Mmmh.”

She watched intently as he turned the vibrator on, the low hum growing with every increasing setting. Her eyes widened as he inserted the toy in her sopping cunt, immediately sending unearthly shockwaves through her body. The unholiest of potential noise complaints spilled from her lips as the vibrator worked at her clit and g-spot at once. The overwhelming sensations dulled her mind, weakening her resolve than any of the drills Terry had ever thrown at her. All she could see was the orgasmic light at the end of the tunnel, a light she ran towards until her path was blocked by an evil set of greens and her breathing being cut off.

Fingers pinching at her nose and a heavy forearm pressing against her chest, his gaze burned through her skull as he spoke: “Nah, none of that. Orgasms are for respectful little whores. And you,” he paused to chuckle, “ain’t even halfway there.”

With that, he was off the bed, leaving Mila there to curl and writhe in the bed she had made. He bent over to rummage through his duffel before finally retrieving…a book. A fucking book. He grabbed the wine and glass from the night stand, stealing one last glance at Mila. “I’m not gon’ hold you though, this is a nice ass place,” he noted lightheartedly before retreating to the balcony, closing the sliding door behind him and getting comfortable in the hanging loveseat.

30 minutes.

That was the amount of time that Terry had left Mila to suffer for before making his return from his me-time. By then, Mila only existed between a deep seated regret for crossing someone as twisted as Terry Richmond, and an even deeper desperation for release. Although he was seated beside her, he had made no move to remove the torture machine from her pussy. All he did was watch indifferently as the toy repeatedly drilled the lesson into her while she writhed and squirmed about. Finally, he lulled her from her frenzied state, rolling her to her back and removing the vibrator. His touch felt cold against her raw skin, eliciting a pained groan. Her vision was blurred, but she could still see him smirking down at her in twisted satisfaction.

She heard him tsk at the soaked toy before he redirected his attention to her.

“Always gotta make shit harder than it has to be, huh? Now look at you,” he spat, still fairly vexed by her display earlier.

“‘M sorry sir. So sorry,” she managed to whimper through quivering lips.

Terry only clicked his tongue before getting up and taking his belt off. He made a single loop, wrapping one end around his knuckles. Naively, Mila tried to crawl away, only to be manhandled onto Terry’s lap with her stomach against his muscular thighs. “You miss a number, I start again, understood?” he inquired sternly.

“Yes sir,” Mila replied with a desperate nod.

Smack! “One, sir!”

“You gon’ learn how to fucking talk to me Mila!”

Smack! “Two sir!”

“You gon’ learn to treat me with some fucking respect!”

Smack! “Three sir!”

“You gon’ learn that me and you ain’t equals!”

Smack! “Four sir!”

“I am your superior in every sense of the fucking word!”

Smack! “Five sir!”

“I fucking own you!”

Smack! Six sir!”

“Say it,” he growled, arching her back as he held her up with a first in the now loose ponytail.

“You own me sir,” she whimpered, earning another stinging crack of leather to her bare ass.

“Ah-seven sir!”

“And?”

“We’re not equa-” Smack! “Gyahhh! Ei-eight sir!”

“Again,” he commanded.

“We’re not equals!”

“Because?”

“Because you own me sir!”

With two final cracks of his belt to the pricking skin on her ass, Terry rolled her body off his lap, ragdolling her onto her back. He wasted no time discarding his shirt before taking his dress shoes off. His dick had all but strained against the material of his slacks from snuffing out the brat in Mila and he was ready for his more personal dues. He made quick work of his pants along with his boxers, long and girthy glory springing free for play time. Roughly grabbing her thighs and wrapping them around his waist, he lined himself up at her entrance. Her body jerked as he rammed his way into her now flooded cunt, filling her like a piece of herself that had been missing. The feeling of him bottoming out felt like she was being completed.

Mercilessly, he rammed in out of her, the sound of his pelvis slapping against her ass akin to the clap of thunder. Moans, cries, and screams of pleasure and praise slowly ate away at Mila’s voice. Her throat had begun to dry and fizzle from the way she exerted her vocal chords. The next person to hear her would think she had been at a Beyonce concert. Until they saw her body of course. Terry made her skin a foster home for his mouth, kissing, sucking and biting at whatever he could taste like a starved bear.

“Whose fucking pussy is this?” he rasped as he fucked her mind into nothing.

“It’s yours sir! All yours,” Mila screamed, unable to contain the fire Terry's unforgiving thrusts into her.

Bright green eyes darkened with lust bore into her soul, the erotic stare making Mila even wetter. The familiar knock of impending release began knocking for Mila to open up, and she had no issue reaching for the handle after turning it away for so long. However she hadn’t accounted for Terry reading her like a novel he had finished 4 times over. Suddenly his hand was wrapped around her throat, squeezing like she were a foe.

“You thought this shit was for you wasn’t it? Nah baby, I’m just trying to catch a nut before my nap,” he growled tauntingly, a damn near demonic smirk splayed across his features.

“Don’t get it twisted Mila. The only reason I cut shit so short is jet lag. You ain’t earned shit yet,” he chuckled menacingly, feeling spurred on by the tears in Mila’s eyes making their umpteenth appearance that afternoon.

“Bu-but…I said…I said I…’m sorry,” Mila whimpered helplessly.

“I’m sure you are. But I need that shit to stick. Need you to remember what happens when you boutta forget who the fuck you talking to. Need you to remember the consequences for taking my kindness for granted,” he said, finally about to chase his own high.

All he granted Mila was a warning before he came inside her with a guttural groan. As he caught his breath, Mila held onto a hope that maybe by some miracle, Terry was joking. Unfortunately her hope was snatched away with the feeling of him inside of her when he pulled out. Her heart dropped as he grabbed his duffel from the hardwood floor and made his way into the bathroom. With the pent up tension eating at her, she couldn’t even console herself with the view of his retreating ass. The sound of water rushing into the bathtub reached her ears, deepening her disappointed frown. But it wasn’t long before he had come back out though, once again fueling a spark of optimism in her heart, until he gently scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the en suite bathroom. As the water began to fill the large tub, Terry gently placed her body inside before retreating into the shower a mere step away.

Unsurprising considering his chronic fear of non-sexual intimacy.

Mila sighed in contempt as she slid further into the tub. The hot water soothed most of her body while stinging at her ass. If she hadn’t survived worse, she would probably be crying in pain. The water reached her neck, prompting her to close the faucet. She turned her head slightly to glance at the shower. The glass doors were blanketed in condensation, obscuring her view of the delectable looking cause of her ruining cleaning himself up. Then a mischievous thought crossed her mind.

If she couldn’t see Terry, then that meant he couldn’t see her.

So she slowly inched her hand down her abdomen, touching herself until finally her fingertips ghosted over her clit-

“Don’t even think about it!”

Mila was back in the living room, nose buried in one of Terry’s many books he always had on him, while the man in question napped upstairs. Gold Teeth by Blood Orange played softly in the background to drown out Terry’s slightly less soft snores from upstairs. Flicking to a new page, something fell onto her lap. Absent-mindedly picking up what she thought was a bookmark, Mila lifted it to hold it against the page Terry had marked. As the object lifted into her view, her eyebrow arched. The bookmark was Terry’s I.D. Her attention was immediately on the picture, displaying a slightly younger Terry with less frown lines and a mini-fro Mila wished he had kept. Even younger Terry wore the same stoic expression he was notorious for unless he was yelling. She snorted to herself before her eyes shifted to the words on the side.

Terrence James-yeah he seems like a James-Richmond

03/17/1992

Mila frowned at his birth date. She thought Terry was at least in his 40s with how uptight he was. She always chalked his appearance up to good genes and “black don’t crack”. Then there was the date formatting that never failed to irk her anytime one of her American peers or friends would show her their licenses or the time on their phones.

Oh, and there was the fact that today was March 17th.

“Kganti le Terrence wa birthday’a? I never expeded it,” she joked to herself right as the card was snatched from her hand.

She craned her neck up slightly to find Terry’s tired, unamused stare trained on her. She grinned innocently, not sure how he’d react to her little quip since he had clearly heard it. To be fair, he didn’t really move like the laws of humanity applied to him.

“You know contrary to popular belief, I’m actually a regular person,” he snarked, turning Mila’s grin into a smirk that said, “really? You?”

He simply clicked his tongue before snatching his book too and making his way to sit on the opposite end of the couch. Not letting him enjoy his peace since he had taken hers away, she moved closer to him, nearly close enough for their arms to touch. The point was to annoy him, not violate his boundaries. Still, she poked him in the side, earning a mildly annoyed glare. For someone who had probably flown across the world to find her, despite her ensuring she was impossible to track down, he sure had a funny way of expressing his desire to be around her. She didn’t mind it though. This was the closest to nice she would ever get out of Terry and if she was being real, she liked him like this.

“Happy birthday Dumbo,” she said, taking a shot at his ears. He rolled her eyes, a ghost of a genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Whatever nigga.”

#terry richmond #terry richmond smut #terry richmond fic #terry richmond x black!oc #terry richmond birthday bash #aaron pierre #sillyteecup writes #rebel ridge fic

272 notes · View notes