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#feel free to dig through their tags
mypunkpansexualtwin · 2 years
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hi logan ! i’m a lil late for the ttrpg meme but 39 - 42 for thaavia pls ??
Sam. Sam I love you, don't worry about being late, the timing on this was perfect, I was having... not a great night and this definitely helped.
Under a cut cause this got beefy. And anyone who wants to send me these, there's a link to the ask game at the bottom!
39. are they insecure about their appearance? how about their personality? what aspects specifically worry them?
Picked a great one right off the bat for sure. She's definitely not insecure about her appearance. She's not arrogant either, and knows full well that since she's built like a bear (both in the animal way and in the gay way) she's not exactly Standard Pretty. She knows she's not everyone's thing, but who is? Thaavia likes how she looks, and while she may not be the kind of person making folks swoon in the streets, she's also never been short of potential partners when she wanted one either. (Also she knows that even if she's not someone's type, there's no denying she has amazing hair. She busts her ass to keep it nice even while traveling, it's her one big vanity.)
As far as being insecure about her personality, that's... a tougher question. For most of her career as a medic/healer paladin, she's had a fair few cases of patients Reading Into It when she was just doing her job. There's been a fair (or rather unfair) bit of getting put on a pedestal by someone who just sort of assumed they knew what she was like and having a fairly brutal reality check that they rarely took well. So she's worked hard on putting up a front of being cold, distant, and gruff to try and nip that in the bud. And she's gotten very good at it. (16 charisma and she uses all of it to be a bitch.)
Either way, the end result is the same; most folks don't bother to get close enough to see her, to the point where she can see where the line is drawn on someone's perception of her, whether it's Thaavia they see or Paladin Godbarter™. I wouldn't go so far as to say insecure, because to me that feels more active than just a lack of confidence, but that could just be my own nitpick. Regardless, she never expects it when someone A) bothers to look past Paladin Godbarter™ to see the person under the reputation, and B) prefers Thaavia to the version of herself people like to build her up to be.
As far as what worries her, she's got some rough stuff in her past and some bad habits that she just... never fed rather than properly breaking and she's terrified that in the right situation they'll make themselves known again. All during her childhood she was raised being told she'd be a great leader to their tribe one day if she'd just learn to make The Hard Decisions, and while she prides herself on her greatest rebellion against her upbringing being her mercy, she also remembers exactly how she almost listened, what that choice almost cost, and what that promise could possibly bring out in her again. (I will not elaborate on specifics in the ask because Kade. I've been itching to reveal the big dramatic backstory stuff in game for over a year now. I really want to talk about it tho, so I could definitely be convinced outside of an ask.)
40. if you had to remake this character right now, how would you change them?
Probably not a lot of huge changes, actually. Maybe tweak her height a little (still freakishly tall even for a goliath, either down to 8 feet even or up to 8'6 just so she's the same height as Lucy while kneeling, because I enjoy when Kade threatens me with violence), possibly make her just a tiny bit older, an even 40 rather than 38. Maybe change her subclass to Redemption paladin rather than Devotion, but even that's a coin toss because both are Incredibly Thematic for her, but also mildly moot considering I plan on changing her to a homebrew of my own as part of her arc (Oath of Hubris, it's a whole thing that I'd love to go further in depth about.)
Also, I'd probably see about putting my foot down and making her and her fire genasi partner Thyris parents. Velita may not be canon, but she lives on in my heart.
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41. how do you keep notes for this character, if at all?
.......I have. So many notes. I have the shared character document for her and her twin brother that details their backstory, NPCs to pull from, and tidbits of goliath culture stuff I made up for our setting and the DM went "Yeah I dig that, yoink." I have the actual in-game notes that I've been taking for, again, over a year at this point (two years in february) and a refined notes document I really need to finish and share with the rest of the table because my Stream of Consciousness style of typing is uh. Not super conducive to looking for specific details without a LOT of Ctrl+F and luck. I've got a document that's literally just her in-character journal of medical/herbal knowledge in the front half and scraps of poetry, songs, and books that she's jotted down because she loved them enough to not want to forget them. And, of course, 80% of my discord dms between me and Kade for the last two-ish years have been about Lucy and Thaavia that I can go back to.
I take so many notes. Otherwise the brain gremlins eat the thoughts so I can't get them back.
42. can they dance?
Oh definitely. It's not her first pick and she's not gonna be particularly dazzling with it, but she knows how to lead, how to follow, and how not to step on toes. That partner of hers I mentioned, Thyris? He's a bard. (Technically Bard/Sorcerer, with a significantly heavier leaning into sorc, but the point still stands.) He made sure she at least knew enough to keep from looking silly. Plus it was, and continues to be, a great excuse to just hold dance with her for several hours.
And to the rest of y'all, please for the love of god send me some more, I am chewing on the walls since all my dnd games keep getting cancelled for one reason or another!
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twopoppies · 9 months
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hi Gina, sorry if you’ve answered this before but I was just wondering if there is anything that happened recently that makes you think they’re still together, or if you’re leaning more towards thinking they broke up.
Hi, sweetheart. I think the umbro shirt might have been the last thing that made me scratch my head.
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And Louis’ outro songs were really interesting much of the year.
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Louis including the 2015 Larry hug in the WAOYF music video was wild.
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But, to be quite honest, I’ve said many times that these days I really can’t parse what we’re meant to see because they want us to know, and what they both do in order to keep all sides of the fandom invested.
As I’ve said before, there are days I feel more sure that they’re together, and days where I feel less so. I think I’ve just reached a point where I think it’s not helpful to either Harry or Louis to have fans having a laser focus on their private lives. Years ago I felt very sure that they needed to know they had the support and they wanted people to know—about who they are and about their relationship. I just don’t know that that’s still the case.
My feelings go back and forth. I hope they’re still together. I hate the idea that they fought for so long and couldn’t make it. But, at the end of the day, all I really care about is that they’re happy—whatever that looks like for them.
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I come as bidden to ask for angsty fic recs! :D (Especially if they end good though, I just watched a TV show from which I am a little physically ill of Bad Things Left Hanging) 💛
ohoho yes good you've come to the right place!!! angst with a happy ending is one of my favorite tropes ever tbh, especially including lots of hurt/comfort!!! without further ado~
protective dad Bruce
family-wide angst with a side of character study
Jason and Bruce have very different ideas of remembrance
very angsty Cass fic for the Cass mutual ft. hope and healing
Damian and Jason have met before
the passing down of warmth from fathers to sons not quite their own
pretty heavy Babs character study (this author is REALLY GOOD)
getting shot is a great way to end a family feud (and Tim is a little bit feral for a hot second)
baby Dickie and a field trip gone bad
Damian thinks he's going to die (he's wrong) and Tim won't let that happen
Tim and Bruce and healing
Steph and Bruce get yoinked back in time and they are not having fun
Bruce just needs to see his kid alive
Steph telling Bruce "I think I'm bad" will stick with me forever
a little bit vague and a lot bit sad but everything is okay at the end, for the whole family
Dick and Jason being brothers
this one made me ache a little bit and then healed the bruises (B and the kids and the finite nature of human life)
I feel like this has probably been recced to you already but OUGGHHHH the family feels from Dami's POV... it's so good
this one is actually pretty soft and has a really cool concept (and ten bucks says you can probably guess why the title caught my eye) with Tim and Bruce
Dick is hallucinating his kid and it just might break him
SAD SAD SAD ANGSTY HOWEVER read the endnotes bc everything's gonna be okay
I KNOW this one's already been recced to you but honestly it fundamentally changed something in me. in the back of my mind I'm always on some level thinking about it. I cannot adequately explain just how much this fic wrecked me and how important it is to me. I'm just gonna say again what I told @called-kept after she first sent it to me: for middle children in the Wayne clan, sometimes dying (and coming back) is what it takes to realize how loved they are. (Kept actually pitched this to me with, essentially, "hey you like fics where the others are comforted in near-death experiences by the fact that Jason's already been through it, right?" though not in those exact words. and if i let myself I'm going to write a hecking epistle to you about this so I'm just gonna uh... stop talking now)
so ya know how I'm really emotional about Dick being a parent to Damian?
Jason is having panic attacks
Jim Gordon is SUCH a good dude.
Jason stress cooks/bakes
growing up is hard when you're a bird-themed vigilante
I don't usually go for soulmate AUs but this is a REALLY GOOD platonic soulmate AU (it made me cry)
ANOTHER fic that's made me cry and also the one that made me realize how deeply bittersweet I feel about Dick Grayson
Timberly dealing with being immunocompromised (a word which my phone apparently does not like smh)
brothers grieving together — sad but has a happy ending!!!!!
INCREDIBLY long oneshot (with a sequel that I also greatly recommend!!) with a lot of angst but!!! it does not stay there!!! as is a theme in this list there's also healing!!!! (Tim needs help to feel again. that's ok bc he has brothers.)
dare I say it THE Batfam angst (presumably with a happy ending) fic? I'm slowly making my way through it and AAAAGHJHHH it's SO GOOD the characterizations and relationships and struggles and fears and never giving up... so so good
basically anything by @envysparkler but I have like 90% of her fics bookmarked and this list is already super long so I'm just going to gesture wildly and excitedly toward Envy's AO3 and leave it at that
and last but not least one of the first Batfam fics I read and really really loved. a bird gets a bird of his own and Damian gets a new understanding and deeper relationship with his next-oldest brother
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m0thlegs · 5 months
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me when I remember people can perceive my blog and I haven’t updated or posted this blog as much so it doesn’t match my new and improved super cool funny hot awesome talented personality
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good-beans · 1 year
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Does anyone have any fuuta fic recs 👀
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braveburned · 1 year
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not to continue to post ooc and be annoying buuuut what if this were an inbox call ——.
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vanillabat99 · 2 years
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Just a heads-up that the queue might run out in the next day or two!! I haven't been finding much to put in there and I've been doing a lot of sleeping lately, so it's been falling behind. I need to go through my following list and clear out inactive pages and try to get things going again. If you have any blog or tag recommendations, I'm all ears!!
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gerec · 2 years
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hi! i think i’ve finally made it through your entire cherik tag after having the tab open for months and i just wanted to thank you for your presence in the fandom on tumblr. since first joining the fandom in january of this year, your blog has been such a lovely time capsule and archive for me to explore. i absolutely adore your writing (cherik and otherwise) as well, but i just wanted to express appreciation for years of diligent tagging and finding the best cherik content!
Oh wow Anon what an amazing message to get thank you!!! I hope the content on my little blog gave you as much pleasure as it's given me over the years; I can't believe it's been ten years!!! It's actually so great to know that you were able to go back and find things to enjoy from way back...there's been so much wonderful fic and art and gifsets and meta circulated by the fandom that it would be a waste to have it all forgotten. :D :D :D
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cosmictulips · 2 years
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Also! one more thing
I'm going through my likes and reblogging a lot of witchy things. think of it as my way of giving you all a halloween treat. Like I said I'm going to try to get out a pac for halloween and perhaps the full moon.
but yea. just thought I'd let ya know.
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bravevolunteer · 8 months
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@slaughterlocked asked: sender prevents an injured receiver from getting up. — werewolf verse ?! // 100 nonverbal prompts
THE LAST THING MICHAEL REMEMBERS is stumbling his way back. Or... trying to: the excruciating steps against bursts of intense pain, his own blood coating his clothes and fingertips in an attempt to slow the blood loss, black dots pulling at his vision and the disorientation causing his hands to keep slipping until his legs gave way. He lost consciousness only moments after his body hit the sidewalk, though he must have made it far enough: he could see his father in the corner of his eye just before the dizziness overtook him.
It has been a long time since his father's presence was a comforting one.
Any of the relief that flooded through him then is gone when he opens his eyes. He's laying down, inside, though his vision is still too blurry to tell if it's his room, the living room, somewhere else... a question quickly pushed from his mind as the pain sets in. Even still, there is an undeniable pressure against his chest, constricting his lungs and giving every breath weight. Confused, Michael attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, the sudden movement sending RIPPLES of pain through his head and body. He glances down at himself, spots the bandages peeking out from underneath the fresh shirt.
The bandages... on his right shoulder, torso, leg... Michael's breathing quickens as the dots suddenly connect, the night's terror rushing back to him. It wasn't the first he had wandered alone at night, but venturing through the wooded area further away was a sort of retaliation. The wolf ( ... creature? ) that attacked him was unlike any animal Michael had ever seen in the area ( or ever ), though he was too busy running, kicking, and screaming as its teeth ripped through his flesh to get a good luck at it. The gashes from its claws are deep, but the shoulder wound is by far the worst— just to the side of his neck ( a bite ), it wouldn't stop spilling blood. Michael is certain a few more seconds would have left him dead, but it just... ran away.
Agonizing as it is, the panic causes Michael to frantically force himself up. He immediately groans, the noise weak and grating. His pulse skyrockets, too disoriented to notice his surroundings until his father is directly beside him, his hands a steady guide preventing him from standing. Michael doesn't have the energy to jerk away. In fact, he reaches out to grip his father's arm tight, as if begging for him to stay there.
"What... what... hah—" Groggy. Clearly confused ( symptom of severe blood loss ). There isn't even a point to asking, he's the one with the story. Still, it's the only thing he can force out. "What... happened?" His breathing is still fast, each rise and fall of his chest a monumental task. "I was... after I left... I don't know what...— dad?" It slips out, the vulnerability that comes with such an intense brush with death. The disgust in himself will creep in later; for now, it's all he can do to not fall unconscious again. "...Sorry. I'm sorry."
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welcometoteyvat · 10 months
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i'm bored talk to me
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raestromboli · 13 days
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plug!chris catching you riding his pillow ᡣ𐭩
coming to your place after a long day of dealing was a natural thing for chris to do. so when he and some of his friends that tagged along with him had no more clients left, they suggested an evening at some fancy restaurant to spend their money. chris, of course, quickly waved them off because he wanted to spend his time with his pretty little girlfriend after being so busy the past few days.
so imagine the surprise he felt as soon as he heard the most lewd noises coming from your bedroom . . noises that he’d recognise anywhere.
he feels like a perv, but that’s the least of his worries.
chris peeks through the small gap between the doorway and your conveniently opened door; it’s just enough for him to see just how perfect you look. the pillow, the one he usually sleeps on, between your thighs, a wet spot visible on its pillowcase, your tits free from any restraint, with your finger cradling them gently, and your face . . . fuck, your face.
your have the most vulgar expression imaginable. god, you’re better than any wet dream he ever had. your face is tilted to the side, eyes closed with pleading brows pinched upwards. your cheeks were dusted with the prettiest shade of red. his fresh love hoodie is bunched up and being held up by your teeth to expose your pretty tits bouncing every grind of your hips you take, and you’re letting out the cutest little muffled whines and moans.
it’s no surprise that your boyfriend gets hard instantly, hands flying to his crotch with no hesitation as he unzips his pants, sliding down just enough to take his cock out. his bony fingers wrap around his leaky cock and hisses lowly. his eyes were solely trained on printing the beautiful image right into the depths of his mind.
a pitiful pout grows on his lips. he can tell that you’ve been going at it for a while now from how much you’re panting and how you lean forward on your hands every other minute because of the annoying, yet delicious burn in your fleshy thighs, and chris wishes he could be under you instead of that damned pillow, holding you down because he knows how much you squirm on his dick and pistoning his hips into you just right.
there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s definitely not going to do that, but chris wants to savor the thrill of this a little bit too . . . wants to watch you pleasure yourself without him.
you roll your hips so expertly that chris feels even more jealous of that inanimate object, imaging your slick stained on the pillow glistening on his dick instead. the hurried movements, how you know when to push down further and how to keep the steady rhythm, how your face twists in exquisite pleasure with no care for the world—your boyfriend can barely stop himself from cumming right then and there.
chris strokes himself to match the roll of your hips, teeth digging in his bottom lip helplessly as he feels himself getting closer, just like you do. your hips get more erratic, humping the pillow faster and faster while your muffled whines get louder and longer. chris grips the doorway with his free hand to not go through it and disturb you, completely head over heels from how fascinating you look.
the only thing he’s late to realise is that you’re not even watching anything lewd to help you reach your high, and that becomes clear when you start crying out his name in a high-pitched tone that makes him go weak in the knees.
he thrusts into his own fist uncontrollably, but reluctantly gains the ability to stop himself only after seeing your heavenly closed eyes open, the fucked out look taking over your face as he grips his shaft tighter to not cum in the hallway right then and there.
you cum with a strangled cry of his name, gripping the sheets with shaky hands to ground yourself.
you came thinking about him. that alone makes chris wonder if he should kick his feet up high and giggle like a schoolgirl or burst into the room and fuck your sensitive pussy ‘til your cum completely coats his cock. he chooses the latter.
you pant heavily, little moans slipping past your lips as you lazily rock your hips against the pillow. chris doesn’t let you bask in the post-orgasm haze, however, because he’s barging into your room unceremoniously. with zipped pants of course!
squealing in surprise, you yank your blanket over your body, nervously looking at him with big, startled eyes while he casually strolls over to your bed, hands hidden in the pockets of his jeans and keen eyes focused only on you.
“chris. . i-i can explain!” you try to reason, but when your boyfriend simply smirks at you, you know you should stop talking.
“explain riding my pillow?” he’s only teasing, but it still makes you stutter and stumble over your words. you pout for moment, pulling your hoodie over your body before curling further into your blanket in sheer embarrassment. there’s an apology spilling out of your lips, but chris tuts at you condescendingly as he grips onto the blanket and pulls it away from you.
“fuck you lookin’ at? i want you to do it again.” there’s a smirk rising on his lips as he watches your eyes widen and your lips part to protest.
“but!—“
“nah, you wanna be a slut and ride my pillow. all i’m asking is for you to do it again, a’ight? then maybe, i’ll fuck you if you’re good.”
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mermaidgirl30 · 3 months
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✨Guiding Light✨
Marcus Acacius x fem! reader
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A/N: I was immediately inspired to write this after I saw the pictures drop Monday, and I conjured this up in one night. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem and @joelmillerisapunk for beta reading 🩷
Summary: You watch Marcus avenge himself week after week in the pit of the arena, but how much longer will it take to make you snap? How much longer can you go on watching when he’s the only man you want?
Word Count: 6.2k
Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI
Tags: Yearning, a little angst, soft dom! Marcus, feelings, confessions, jealousy, unprotected piv, oral (male/female receiving), fluff, reader’s nickname is Starlight
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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  The arena is drenched in dark crimson colors as the clash of silver armor and jagged swords collide in unison. The audience is obnoxiously loud as their rowdy shouts and chants fill your ringing ears.  
   Thump. Thump. Thump. 
   You can basically feel your heart trying to break free of your insides that pound uncontrollably as you watch Marcus take out another large fighter from his right with only one jab of his shiny sword that catches sunlight and reflects in your wide eyes.
   Come on, Marcus. Win, stay alive!
   You swallow back a trembling whine as you sit on the edge of your seat, fingernails digging into the tough stone as you watch the man you yearn for take another blow to the back. You gasp as you watch Marcus flip the fighter over and finish him off with one slice of his silver sword, barely any sign of pain or fear in his vision that’s focused on taking out every single enemy that stands in his way of freedom.
   You sigh out in relief, fear flooding your veins as your eyes stay glued to every careful move he makes in the arena of death. 
   He stands in the middle of the expansive, gruesome arena, dodging left and right, taking out man after man, completely pulverizing anything and anyone that gets in his way. He’s the best in the game, the most experienced fighter, the champion that never falters, never loses. So why are you a complete mess when he’s in that pit of death?
   You’re not lovers, not exactly. You’re his plaything, the woman he calls to his bedchamber after every battle, every night that suits his needs. He doesn’t care if you’re asleep, doesn’t care if you’re in the middle of other pressing matters, doesn’t give a fuck because you’re his property that he can do whatever he wants with. And you have to admit you find that sort of… hot. You’ll do anything for that man. He can use you all he wants, as long as that means you have him.
   Your pulse thrums in your neck as you watch him completely dominate the arena. The blazing sun rains down on his broad body, leaving him in damp, silver armor, sweat glistening down his tanned skin, greying curls sticking to his forehead, dirt covering every inch of his muscular arms, his sculpted legs, his large hands. 
   You so badly wish you could be every speck of that dirt right now so you could lick up and down every inch of him until you were completely consumed in him, until you could see nothing but him for all eternity, until he melded his own skin with yours as you fused into one. 
   When the crowd chants and the last man falls to his death, the only man left standing is him, General Acacius, the man you’re completely wrapped up in. You have to pull yourself back together as your core burns hot, slick collecting just thinking of what he’ll do to you later tonight. You know he’ll take you, hard. 
   His golden flecked chocolate eyes find yours in the crowd in a heartbeat, a celebratory smirk curling against his plush mouth as darkness and trouble swirl through those beautiful eyes. You know what that means. He’s won you, and he wants you, now.
   When your eyes leave his, you see the emperor’s daughter, Mina, looking over his broad body with those bright blue eyes, her ashy blonde hair flowing down her back, and she’s nearly drooling over his victory, thinking that she can get him with her daddy’s command.
   You flare hot with jealousy at the thought of Marcus and Mina tangling together, their skin caressing over each other’s in his large bed draped with gold sheets that swallow their bodies whole till they’re nothing but shadows dancing in the midst of the night.  
   You see it now. The long walks they take in the gardens, the secret slurs in each other’s ears over dinners with the entire court, an arranged marriage as he fights for her love each time he’s in the arena. 
   It’s only in your head, only a sick mirage your jealous mind has conjured up. He barely glances her way half the time, his heated gaze only locked on you each time you’re in the same vicinity. It’s stupid really, the hate you feel for her because you could never measure up to a rich, beautiful goddess like herself. You don’t come from royalty, barely have a cent to your name, and that is why he could never love you, you think. 
   Mina has it all, and you’re just… you. 
   You swallow the lump in your throat as the audience still shouts and whistles from every direction as Marcus is called out and awarded as the winner of today’s events. You want to stay, but you get up quietly and leave, knowing he’ll want you waiting in his chambers when he’s finished. 
   He’s safe. That’s all that matters. 
   You quickly leave behind the bellowing noise of the arena, trading it for a quiet walk through the rose garden, past the trickles of clear blue fountains, entering into a quiet overlay of towering architecture that’s trimmed in carved stone and marble pathways. A place you could never even dream of setting foot in on a regular basis. You’re just a commoner, not royalty, not wealthy, not anything but his to take. And that will have to be enough. For now. 
   You slip past some guards, heading straight for his bedroom, his sanctuary so to speak. He calls it that because you are what he worships night after night in those sheets, inside those marble walls, against his broad body that makes every vibration buzz through your nerve endings. He is what makes this city even tolerable. 
   You throw the double doors open wide and slam them shut, letting the glow of the sunlight fade through the cascading window overlooking the city. The room smells of spice and aroma, the golden curtains sparkle as the sun kisses the see-through fabric and dips against the silky sheets that are bathed in a majestic golden hue. The king sized bed sits front and center as his grand bathing chambers lay to the right, just inside the hand crafted door that’s threaded with gold.
   This room, this place is exquisite, and you can’t believe the emperor is letting Marcus stay here after their falling out that happened just weeks ago. But the best fighter gets to stay in these living quarters. They get money, a title, a chance at freedom from the arena if they’re lucky. That’s what Marcus is fighting for. To be free from this hellish prison, and you just pray to the gods that no one will take him from you. You’ll surely wither and fade away the moment something goes wrong in those walls of torture and murder because he’s all you know anymore here in Ancient Rome. 
   Before you can delve into anymore feelings, you hear the crash of doors being opened behind you, and then you hear the disposal of swords and shields being tossed in a heap on the floor, then you hear the deep, ragged breaths of the one you’ve been waiting for. Marcus.
   You try to twist around, but strong arms envelop you from behind, and a warm breath blows huskily down the shell of your ear. “Enjoy the show?” he smirks as his meaty hands find the back of your long gown and rip, tugging it free as it falls to the floor around your ankles. 
   Your mouth drops open as warmth blooms in your core, hot and heavy like the room begins to feel. “Marcus! I liked that dress,” you pout.
   He grabs the back of your hair and tugs playfully while one hand snakes around your waist and pulls you flush to his silver armor, making you gasp as he cups your bare breasts and starts kneading them together, like he needs you right this very second and can’t wait any longer to get his experienced fingers on your burning skin. 
   “I’ll buy you another one. Not like I don’t already have one hanging in my closet,” he teases, pinching your pebbling nipples together as a slight moan leaves your lips. 
   “Needy thing, aren’t you?” he chuckles, pulling you closer as one hand slips down and ghosts over the sheer panties, the only thing left on your bare body. 
   “For you, yes,” you whine, stifling a moan as his calloused thumb glides over your clit, sending a shiver down your spine as you fight to keep standing upright. 
   “Greedy thing I see, wanting to come already?” he teases as he tugs his hand away from your slick center and rips your ruined panties in half, leaving you completely bare and absolutely wet with desire and famished for his touch. 
   “Turn around,” he instructs with a bite as he assesses you from head to toe, licking his bottom lip in anticipation the moment he sees how drenched you are for him.
   Your gaze drops over him, still clad in silver armor, his leather wristbands splattered in dried blood, his Caliga boots biting into his toned shins, the leather kissing his muscular thighs. He quickly loses the wristbands and stalks toward you, backing you up till your back is pressed into the corner of the bed, chest heaving as the possibilities swarm your hazy mind.
   “My armor, unthread it,” he demands as his dark brown eyes pierce into yours as sweat glistens across his tanned forehead, dirt still caking his dark skin as he stands fresh from a win of a long day in the arena. “Now,” he growls as he loses his patience while you stand there staring like a lovesick puppy.
   “Yes, sir,” you nod as your fingers get to work unlacing the gold threads of his armor, making sure your movements are swift and cordial, knowing he doesn't like waiting too long to have you. 
   His eyes follow you with every turn, every move, like he’s some kind of wild animal that’s stalking his prey, ready to pounce and devour at any minute. You have to keep your eyes off his as you unfasten his belt, the silver armor falling to the floor as you tug it off his broad body until he’s standing only in the leather material that covers his upper thighs and the boots that shine against his banged up ankles. 
   You stand there a minute and admire the gorgeous fighter that stands in front of you. Tall, extremely handsome, greying curls slicked back with the sweat from the sweltering sun in the arena, dirt etched across sculpted, tanned skin, eyes the color of bright sunlight and charcoal mixed together to make the prettiest honey-glazed eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. This man is like a god, and you’d happily get down on your knees and worship him at his beck and call. 
   His blazing eyes slide down your bare body and end at what’s left on his, nodding for you to finish the job. “Well, don’t just stand there. Finish undressing me,” he bites out with scalding irritation, clearly ready to forget his long day in an arena where hyenas bark at him day after day. He wants a release, and that release is you.
   You quickly tug the leather material down his legs, taking his underwear to the floor as his hard cock stands at attention against his sculpted abs, his coarse, wiry, dark hair trailing down the base of him as you gulp with wide-eyes.
   He’s so big, so thick, so very… god-like. 
   He sits down on the wooden chest that’s sprawled at the end of his bed, spreading his muscular legs wide as he points to his dusty battle boots. “Knees on the ground, Starlight,” he instructs firmly with a gravelly tone that makes you clench your thighs together.
   “Yes. Of course, Marcus.”
   “Sir,” he corrects as you bend down and start to unlatch the straps of his fighting boots, slowly stripping them off as you toss them to the side. 
   You idly sit there on your knees, one arm twisting around the back of his thigh as you spread him wider, almost drooling at the sight of his thick cock dripping precum around the angry red tip. Your mouth parts open, and you lose all train of thought. The only thing you want is to choke on that beautiful cock till he tells you to stop.
   He strips you from your fantasies as he grabs a fistful of your hair, leaning down as he bites out slow, deliberate words. “Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to be a good girl and wrap that pretty little mouth around my cock?” His eyes twinkle with a seductive glare, and his dirty words melt all the way down to your heated core until you can actually feel them around your aching clit.
   “Yes, sir. Wanna be your good girl,” you pant as you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.
   He smirks and sits back as his rough hand guides you forward. “Then get to work,” he growls, tugging you forward with his hand wrapped around your hair until your lips meet his dripping tip.
   You take your tongue and run it flat up the base of him, following along the bulging vein as you lick up the salty precum that gushes around his swollen tip. 
   Gods, he tastes so good, even after a long day in battle without a bath. You actually prefer to go down on him like this when his musk is drenched around the coarse hairs at his base, sweat pooling down his glorious body as you bathe in the aroma of him. Battle and all, this is when you like him most, when he completely takes charge and dominates you around his chambers, instructing you with filthy words and crude actions. This is how you like it. All hot and sweaty and desperate and messy.
   He groans as you take him deeper, hollowing out your cheeks as you fill your throat with his thick cock, gagging around his massive size as he starts to bob his hips, fucking your throat in steady strides as his large fingers wrap around your soft waves. 
   “That’s it, right there, atta fucking girl,” he moans, tipping his head down to yours as he watches you through the black pits that consume his wide eyes.
    “Look at me,” he demands as he pulls you back up to breathe, letting a bead of saliva connect to your plump lips from the tip of him as you suck in a deep breath, feeding your lungs as you look up into eyes that could eat you alive. 
   “There she is, my good little Starlight. Sucking my cock just the way I like it, yeah?” he coos, threading his fingers through your hair and stroking the back of your neck like you’re a well trained dog on a leash just waiting for their master to give you orders.
   “Mhm. You just taste so good, all hot and sweaty,” you purr as your hand slides down the base of his shaft, squeezing his balls as he grunts in pleasure, tightening his grip on your neck as he pushes you back down. 
   “Yeah? Put those pretty lips to action then, gorgeous,” he growls. 
   He takes you to your limits, cock throbbing as you choke and gag around his thick length, drool dousing him as he fucks you hard and deep, taking exactly what he needs after going through hell and back himself in one day.
   You groan, tears licking your eyes as you swallow the salty taste of him, letting him move you at his leisure, making your body do exactly as he pleases. Before you can get another good taste of his deliciousness, he pulls you off and throws you on your back in the silky sheets, watching him grab some of the gold cords from his armor. 
   Your breath escapes you as he crawls over your body, the dirt caking his broad arms as his hungry eyes nearly devour you whole as he carefully binds your wrists to the headboard, stilling your writhing legs as he starts to slowly spread them. 
   Your heart is beating wildly like ocean tides collide with your body, and your core is humming for Marcus to touch you in every single place he can get his filthy hands on you.
   He takes the tips of his fingers and melodically strokes them down your neckline, skating between your peaked breasts, teasing along your inner thighs until you’re a writhing mess beneath him. “Marcus, please,” you beg, nearly panting his name raggedly as you beg for his touch. 
   “Sir,” he corrects sternly as he stares at you with dark eyes in warning.
   “Sir,” you apologize with a meek voice.
   He chuckles and drags his finger higher, teasing around your drenched folds as he hikes one leg over his shoulder, your other folding around his back. 
   “Now, I want you to look up and watch, can you do that?” he asks as you tilt your head and swallow a gasp as you stare into the reflection of you and Marcus in between the sheets that will soon be soaked.
   “Want you to see what belongs to me, what I own,” he growls dominantly as he sinks down to his elbows and breathes in your musk deeply as your pussy shutters at just the feel of his hot breath.
   You groan in waiting, and then his mouth is on you in a flash. He licks a thick stripe up your center as your wrists tug at the golden clasps, your fingernails digging into your skin as you moan in pure ecstasy when his tongue circles meticulously around your puffy clit. 
   “Oh, yeah,” you whine as the feel of his thick fingers curl up inside you, reaching that sweet spongy spot that makes you dizzy every single time.
   He chuckles as he pulls you down further, your bound wrists biting into the cords as he swirls his tongue exceptionally fast, groaning at the taste of you as his messy curls fall against your thighs. You want to reach down and lace your fingers into those beautiful locks, want to hear him groan as your nails dig deep into his scalp as you moan his name around the spacious chambers of his living quarters, but you’ll work with this for now, until he says otherwise. 
   He pulls your bundle of nerves into his warm mouth, sucking and teasing as he looks up from under hooded eyes and stares at you playfully with his pupils expanding into dark pits the more he feasts on you. 
   You buck into his mouth as his fingers plunge in and out of you, creating the most obscene wet noises that reverberate off the marble walls. He releases your buzzing clit with a pop, licking the slick from his lips as he groans at the sweet taste of you.
   “This is exactly what I needed, Starlight. Needed to drink you down, taste the savory flavor of this sweet pussy, needed to drown in you,” he pants as he dives back in, licking and sucking and fucking two thick fingers inside your dripping hole until you start to see black dots flick across your vision.
   “Yes, come for me, Starlight,” he purrs, his gravelly voice melting your insides into warm lava as you snap and let the white hot heat take control.
   You throw your head back into the plush pillow and let your moans fill the room as you clench around his thick fingers and release everything you have to give him.
   “Just like that, Starlight. Fuck, yes,” he growls as he licks you clean, lapping up all the slick until you’re completely spent off the way he just demolished you.
   You feel his broad body climb over yours, carefully untying you from the headboard as your arms fall slack to your sides. You feel as if every wave of ecstasy just crashed into you, the high tides pulling you out to sea as you agreeably follow the darkness. Marcus pulls you out of the lapping waves and carries you back to shore where it’s safe and warm by his side.
   “Come here, Starlight. Just lay back and take the pleasure,” he purrs as he glides his massive cock into your slippery folds, spreading you wide as he starts to rock his hips back and forth, feeding himself inside you as your walls clench up around him. 
   You lay back into the dampening sheets as his body presses you deeper into the mattress, his hands tangled in your hair, your own legs wrapped tight around his broad back as you moan with every stroke of his cock. You feel the pressure inside you coiling tight, feeling as if you’ll come undone again at any second. This is what you love, what you revel in, what you need most in this world. It’s him. 
   You lay sprawled in the damp sheets, bodies tangled together like magnets colliding as you stare up into the wide mirror, the motions of his broad body reflecting in your wide eyes as you take the pleasure again and again.
   “Marcus,” you cry out, pleading for him, begging him not to stop as you watch him take you harder, your nails dragging down his back with every deep thrust he gives you as he kisses the back of your cervix repeatedly. 
   “Yeah, feels good, doesn’t it, Starlight?” he coos against the shell of your ear as he traces his lips up up up until he’s hovering straight over your lips, his mouth teasing as he nips at your bottom lip.
   “Marcus,” you repeat, your heart straining for him to kiss you.
   Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. It’s all you want, all you need. Like air to fill your lungs, he’s all it takes.
   It takes him less than two seconds to collapse his lips onto yours like he’s as desperate for air as you, like he might die if he doesn’t fill the space between the two of you. You moan into his mouth, tasting salt and sunlight crash against your taste buds as his tongue licks inside your panting mouth. He groans into the kiss, tangling his large tongue with yours as you chase him and let him swallow you down like it’s his last night to live.
    He deepens the kiss, pulling you flush to his chest as he turns you around while still inside you, landing on his back as he laces his fingers through your locks, moaning your name with every lick and every taste he takes from you. It’s like the gods have blessed you, bringing you this man, this mountain of a man that feeds your every need. And gods, you don’t think you will ever get enough of him.
   He disconnects from your swollen lips, resting his sweat covered forehead on yours as he concentrates on his swift strokes inside you, planting his hands firmly on your hips as he takes you for the ride of your life. “Yeah, that’s it, Starlight, You’re almost there, I can feel how much you’re squeezing. Let it out, let me feel it,” he growls through clenched teeth, trying not to fall apart before you do.
   He speeds up his thrusts, filling you fuller than anyone else has before, rutting into you at just the right angle where you can feel him start to uncoil all your tethered connections as your body slackens against his hold on you. 
   One more hard, long thrust and you’re done. “Marcusssss,” you moan, feeling the heat slide down and spill over his entirety as you fall flush into his strong chest. He takes initiative and thrusts deeper, much harder than before, desperate to chase his own release.
   He threads his brows together and groans your name quietly, his lips lingering over the shell of your ear as he takes three more breaths and then spills ropes of hot white cum inside your sticky core. 
   You moan together in ecstasy, bodies entwined as he empties his seed inside you, chests heaving with exhaustion as he carefully pulls out from inside you and collapses on the bed with a thud, your body slack against his as the damp, dirty sheets shift around your naked bodies. 
   After a few seconds of ragged breaths, he pulls your back flush against his sweaty chest and drapes an arm around you, holding you close as you let the sun slowly slip behind dark clouds that paint the sky violet colors.
   “You need a bath,” you giggle as you lace your fingers through his.
   “So do you,” he chuckles, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a huff. “Just let me lay here a few more minutes. I’m exhausted,” he murmurs as he pulls you as close as humanly possible to his warm chest. You cozy up to him and sigh, relaxing into his warm touch, reveling in this soft moment that seems more rare than nights you get him all to yourself. 
   The room is sweltering, his scent clinging to every part of your body as you bathe in the smell of sweat, dirt, spice, and something that smells a lot just like him. He’s like your very own glass of fine wine, the perfect combination of class and just downright filth. He’s just… perfect. Perfect for you, the only man you truly want. And maybe that’s because you’re in love with him. Maybe that’s why you cling to him as much as you can, afraid he’ll be taken from you at a moment’s notice.
   You can’t lie to yourself, you’re absolutely terrified each time he steps into that arena, knowing the emperor wouldn’t even bat an eyelash if a man slaughtered him to shreds. You fidget against the damp sheets, cringing at the thought of blood filling his lungs, his body parts pulled apart by barbarians as he takes his last breath and slips into the dark abyss. 
   You clamp your eyes shut, thinking of Mina dragging him off to get married, thinking of him choosing another woman over you once he’s offered to cut ties in the arena if he marries someone with a higher title. You tremble at the thought of him leaving you all alone, like you never meant anything to him, like you were just a ragdoll for him to control whenever he wanted, like you don’t mean a damn thing other than knowing you’ll always be there at his command when he wants to blow some steam off from the arena. 
   You fight the uncontrollable tears that lick the backs of your eyes, plead to not break down in front of him, beg the gods to have some mercy on your soul if you were about to lose this man. You can’t lose him; you won’t lose him, unless he walks away and tells you to stay like a helpless dog losing their only person they know will take care of them.
   You can’t stand it, can’t hold in the emotions any longer, so you let them flow, feeling the tears like icy shards spilling down your burning cheeks.
   “Hey, hey, hey. Are you crying?” he asks with alarm in his deep, gravelly voice.
   “No,” you croak out as another tear falls like raindrops on the bed. 
   “Hey now, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong,” he pushes softly, turning you around till you’re facing his direction, concern laced in his soft brown eyes.
   You stare at him with sad eyes, nervously twisting your fingers in the silky sheets that are now covered in grime and sweat. You can’t tell him you’re scared to lose him, you just… can’t.
   “Starlight, talk to me. Tell me what it is.” His fingertips brush off a falling tear, and you shake your head slowly. 
   “It’s nothing…”
   He cups your chin and tilts your head up to where your eyes are aligned with his, and in those eyes swims the most sincere gaze he’s ever given you in his entire life. “It’s not nothing if it’s making you cry. Now talk to me. I’m right here.”
   His fingertips feel like velvet dragging across your cheek, soft brown eyes weighing into yours as he gives you his full attention. And it’s no use now hiding your feelings; you need to just clear the air and get it off your chest.
   You take a deep breath and focus before you choke your words out. “I’m scared, Marcus.”
   “Scared of what?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows as he hears you out.
   “Of losing you…”
   He sighs and runs his thumb gently down your jawline, stroking it up and down as the soothing feeling seems to settle your nerves. “Oh, Starlight. You’re never going to lose me.”
   You swallow the thick lump in your throat, holding back tears as you shake your head. “I could lose you any day in that arena. The things they put you through, the people you have to kill, the absolute horror you have to go through just to stay alive!” 
   His eyes go wide, but he lets you continue. “I don’t want to watch you die, Marcus! I don’t want them to keep feeding you to the wolves like you’re some kind of mindless entertainment for the city of Rome!”
   He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, slowly opening them back up as he cups the back of your neck. “I know, baby. I know…”
   Baby? That’s new….
   “Just trust me that I know what I’m doing, and that I’ll fight like hell to win my freedom back,” he sighs, his eyes glistening with a look like pain etched in the crevices of those golden brown irises.  
   “What if your freedom meant taking a wife, marrying someone with a title…” you whisper, barely able to lock eyes as he scrunches his forehead together.
   “What?” he asks with lines mapped against his tanned skin, considering your ridiculous question. “What do you mean take a wife with a title?”
   “Someone like Mina,” you murmur quietly.
   “Mina?” he asks with wide eyes.
   “She’s been obsessed with you ever since you first stepped into that arena. The way she looks at you… she could have you with a snap of her fingers if only she asked her father. And Marcus, I don’t want…”
   “Whoa there, slow down. Mina? Where is all this coming from? I have no interest in Mina.”
   You gulp, eyes dropping to the twisted sheets as you feel your heart stutter in your chest. “I overhear her all the time. The way she swoons over you, the way she dreams that one day you’ll notice her in the arena. And then… and what if you want to get married? Not even to her, but to someone with money, a title, someone royal, maybe someone that’ll get you out of here quicker? What if you…”
   You close your eyes tight, afraid you’ve spoken too much, afraid you’ve ruined everything as you lay in a heap with your heart pounding in your chest like a ticking time bomb. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did that, if you saved yourself from the brink of death. But I… I don’t know what I would do if I lost you, too. If you were to choose someone else…”
   You let the tears collect in your eyes, feel them slipping down your face as you try your best not to throw anything else frantic and chaotic into the stormy clouds above Rome. You’ve already said too much, too fast. You weren’t supposed to say anything.
   He lifts his head and stares at you, wordlessly assessing your fragile features as his eyes turn a soft brown, eyebrows knitting together as his eyes become glossy like yours. “Starlight, no. I don’t want Mina, I never did. And I would never ever leave you for someone else, even if it got me out of that pit faster. The only woman I want to see is you. If I haven’t made that clear before, I’m sorry. But… baby, you belong to me. You’re mine.”
   “I’m… yours?” you ask carefully, your tears spilling over the edges uncontrollably as you cling to his chest.
   “Of course you’re mine, Starlight. You’ve been mine since the first day I locked eyes on your beautiful face,” he whispers, curling a lock of hair behind your ear as you breathe in deep, surrounding yourself in the very essence of him as he tells you exactly how he’s felt the whole time this has been going on. “I’ve been yours longer than you know.”
   You whimper out a sigh, threading your fingers through his tousled hair as you stare into starry brown eyes that you’d really like to slip in and stay for all eternity. “Really?” you ask with wonder in your eyes.
   “Really,” he nods. “Do you know why I call you Starlight?”
   “No,” you whisper quietly, shaking your head as a fresh tear streams down your skin. He catches it with his thumb and caresses your cheek gently as his calloused fingers soothe your cloudy thoughts. 
   “Because you’re the brightest thing I see every single time I step into that arena. The only thing that keeps me fighting week after week in that bloodbath is you, so I can get back to you.”
   His answer leaves you completely breathless as you suck in warm air, your body still as you look longingly at the man that starts devastating wildfires in your heart.
   “Me?” you ask in a shaky breath.
   “You,” he nods with a smile. “The very first time I stepped into the arena, the first thing that crossed my vision was your eyes. Those beautiful, sparkling eyes were the only thing I focused on, the only thing that kept me from losing myself on that battlefield was you.”
   You gasp, his deep words taking the breath from your lungs as he confesses about the first time he noticed you, saw you, really, truly saw you. You weren’t invisible to him. You were never invisible. “Marcus…” you say shakily as he strokes your jawline lovingly. “But… I… I’m just a simple woman. I have no titles, no money to my name, no prospects. I’m just… me,” you state slowly.
   He sighs, cupping his hand around the back of your head as his fingers lazily stroke through your strands gently. “I don’t care, Starlight. I don’t care about money or titles or really anything about an important name. What's life of riches and freedom if I can’t have you?” 
   You swear your heart blooms like lush roses in your chest as you hear those words repeat again and again in your mind. He wants you, he wants you.
   “I want you,” he repeats, as if he can hear the sounds of doubt play in your mind like a music box that won’t stop spinning. 
   He cups both sides of your face and looks at you with pure intent in his glossy brown eyes. “I want you every day, every minute, every second, and I burn for you in that arena,” he promises as his lips graze over yours delicately. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you sitting in the audience all wide-eyed and beautiful. And I want you even more now that I have you, want you by my side every minute of every day because I can’t stand the thought of losing you. And I’ll fight like hell to earn my freedom back because I love you.”
   He loves you.
   “Marcus, I…” 
   He crashes his lips against yours, a hot, needy, yearning kiss that nearly sends you soaring into the night sky as his lips surge like fire through your very veins. It’s soft like snow, kissing at your eyelashes as you let him pull you flush to his chest, needing to be as close as possible as love burns through your bodies, connecting them together as if this is the very first time you both ache to collide together. 
   “I love you, Marcus,” you whisper against his lips.
   He pulls you on top of his chest and sinks his mouth down on yours, slowly slotting his tongue in your mouth, drawing lazily circles as he drinks you down as you allow him to take all of you. Whatever he wants, whatever he needs from you he has. He tastes like the stars that shimmer in the sky, and you’ll be his entire galaxy, his Starlight that’ll guide him off the battlefield of the arena and back into your arms where he’s safe from harm.
   When he disconnects from your mouth, he stares at you, his soft brown eyes shimmering up at you as he runs his calloused fingers tenderly through your hair. “You’re mine, Starlight.”
   “I’m yours,” you repeat, smiling down at him as he brushes his lips against your forehead, kissing you with love written all over his touch as he pulls you up from the bed. 
   “Come on, my love. Let’s go take a bath,” he says softly as he picks you up and carries you to the bathing chamber, his strong arms cradling you against his warm chest as he places a lasting kiss to your forehead. 
   All your worries are shed, all false pretenses are gone, everything you were mourning over is suddenly lifted off your shoulders as they fly away into the night sky. This man is yours, and he’s never ever planning on letting you go. 
   Starlight shines brighter than any Roman Empire games, and you’re his guiding light back home.
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highvern · 7 months
Text
Rough
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader
Genre: Smut, 18+
Warnings: Cheol’s hands, fingering, spitting, minor pain kink, pussy slapping, teasing/begging, thick dick cheol, unprotected sex, creampie, minor breeding kink, mating press, soft(ish) dom Cheol, strength kink, he’s wearing a watch and his chain, praise
Length: ~2k
Note: an ode to Cheol's hands, and his c*** i needed a cigarette while looking at pictures of his hands for this fic. everyone rot with me @gyuswhore @wonustars @ourdawnishotterthanourday @seokgyuu
Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)
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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
The lights of the TV illuminate you and your boyfriend’s intertwined forms resting on the sofa. Seungcheol’s hands busy themselves, fingers digging into the sore cords of muscle twisted along your legs. He thinks nothing of it, focused on the drama unfolding on screen while you focus on the cool metal of his watch licking just above your knee.
He smiles when you jump, the tickle of his fingers sending bubbling laughter into the space between you.
“What?” He asks, as if he doesn't have all your weak spots committed to memory.
“Nothing.” you mumble.
“Want me to stop?”
A shake of your head is the only reply Seungcheol needs before he pins your flailing limbs and goes about his business once again. 
His hands always feel incredible. They’re always warm, always gentle despite what lurks beneath the surface. And they’re always on you, in some way or another. 
The roughness of his palm or dig of his fingers are second nature after years of them glued to your body. Whether they’re holding you close or stroking across your cheek as he wakes you with sweet kisses. Heating the small of your back while he guides you in a crowd, or tangled with your own as he whispers his deepest secrets into the dark late at night. You love every part of him but his hands show you a million different ways he feels the same.
You try not to react as he massages up your thighs, the sinew of muscles seizing before they melt under his careful ministrations. 
Every sigh through your nose is a tell Seungcheol is well accustomed to; what you like and what you love. Because he knows you like when he focuses on the curve of your quad, or the meat of your calves until they’re putty.
But you love when he pushes his hand under your oversized shirt and stretches the muscles deeper inside until you vibrate with want.
“You’re not watching the movie.” He whispers into your ear, nose following the curve of your jaw to the place he knows drives you wild.
“I'm a little distracted right now.”
And just like that the thick fingers stuffed in your cunt freeze before retreating. You can’t close your thighs to stop it due to the hand pinning your leg down to his lap with bruising force. But he can’t prevent your free leg from kicking in protest as you beg him to stay.
Seungcheol pinches the inside of your thigh until it stings, “Stop.”
You know that tone. It’s the one that warns you if you keep going, you won’t get what you want; what you need. Seungcheol isn’t a stingy lover but he likes to play and this is his newest game. If you can play along long enough he’ll make it worth your while.
“Eyes on the TV.”
With a harsh swallow you turn back to the screen. Once your boyfriend is sure you won’t look away, his hand returns, three fingers stretching you at a snail's pace. When he’s worked them all in, no longer cautious of your initial discomfort, he stops; focused on curling up against that spot he’s always found with embarrassing ease; pressing until your legs shake and you actually do start dripping into his lap. If it wasn’t for the fabric of your shirt, he could see everything.
The hand on your thigh joins in, the pad of his finger drawing rough circles of your clit. It’s fast and it's dirty but you keep pretending to watch the TV while Suengcheol does as he wants. Your mind is so numb you don’t even realize he’s pushed away the blanket and ruched your shirt up your hips to leave you bare. Not until you hear him spit and feel it land on your exposed clit framed between his fingers.
“Fuck,” you whimper, nails digging into the upholstery. “Please.”
But he’s not done yet. A swift slap to your pussy sends stars in your eyes and your body ten feet in the air if not for the man forcing you in place.
“Just relax, baby.”
You try. And Seungcheol respects your effort because every muscle he worked into submission over the past ten minutes jumps alive under your skin but you sit still in his lap and take what he gives you like he knows you can.
He kisses your cheek before whispering, “I love you.” 
Each word burns into your skin, licks through your blood. He loves you, and you love him and all he wants to do is take care of you. So you try and let him even if it means madness. 
Seungcheol watches you pretend to watch the movie once again, but your mind focuses on the sound of debauchery echoing between your thighs. If you looked down you know what you’d see. The way your pussy clings to his fingers with every stroke out, how they glisten with your arousal, every squeeze; everything. 
All the teasing is enough to make your eyes gloss. Especially when he adds a fourth finger and tells you how perfect you are, how you were made for him, and if you cum right now he’ll give you his cock but you have to earn it.
You want to feel his lips suck around your clit until you're nothing more than an empty shell but you’ll happily settle for the swipes of his fingers. It’s obscene how wet you are and how loud your ruined cunt is over the blasting speakers. 
“C’mon pretty girl,” he coos into your ear. “Come for me.”
The coil winds and winds until it snaps. All the edges ripple, the world blurs. Every breath hurts from the punch in your stomach forcing bolts of electricity through your nerves. 
And Seungcheol doesn’t stop. He keeps going until you’re crying. Only to kiss away each tear with praise and soft lips. You barely crack your eyes open, watching his fingers disappear between his lips, sucking away the mess before he gives you a taste on his mouth.
Eyes shut and boneless in his arms, you let him push and pull you just the way he wants. Your body’s only protest in the exhaustion Seungcheol’s fucked into you with his hands. But it’s not enough to keep you from taking him again.
It never is.
When the jostling stops, you find him kneeling before you. He hasn't bothered to remove his clothes, or yours. Just forces your shirt over your breasts and his pants down until he's bare. Thick thighs frame an equally thick cock you know like the back of your hand.
If your boyfriend thinks you’re beautiful then he is other worldly in the glow of the LED screen. 
Hands anchored on the back of your knees, you spread out for his eyes only. Seungcheol’s mouth waters at your wrecked pussy, soaked and swollen from his attention, begging to be split on his cock. The drooling tip of his length taps against your clit, sending you deeper into the spiral, each nudge making your muscles twitch until he uses his thumb to catch on your opening and force himself through the mind numbing clench.
Seungcheol goes slow, pressing forward only a millimeter at a time, barely giving you a taste before he pulls back and starts again. If the way you’re positioned didn’t prevent you from rushing him forward than the fist around his cock would as he teases you until you're begging and he’s puffing up with pride at how desperate you are. 
Just when you think he’s ready to give in, almost flat against one another, he pulls out.
“I sweat to fucking god if you don’t fu—ckkkkkkk,”
Sheathed to the base in your heat Seungcheol finds paradise, dick twitching with every breath. The rough skin of his palms circle your ankles, spreading them up and out of the way so he can lean forward and give you what you want; your pussy stretched to the brim on his cock while he fucks every last thought out of your head.
“Move.” You mewl, barely human, shaking under his weight.
Settling your legs over his shoulders, he folds you in half, freeing the hands you love so much to do as he pleases. One lands just above your head to keep him from completely crushing you and the other cradles your jaw, thumb brushing across your lower lip before he meets you with a kiss.
His tongue glides against your own, fucking your mouth as his hips curl in time. Every thrust forward forces the air in your lungs up your throat to be swallowed by your boyfriend. He strokes you to life, pinned in place, helpless, glowing.
Seungcheol groans as he fucks you harder. “Fuck, you take it so well.”
You're shaking, vibrating from the synapses firing through every inch of your being. Chin dipped, you watch him wreck you, creaming around the base of his length like he’s fucked you for hours rather than minutes.
You’ll come like this, without any pressure on your clit; just the delicious drag of his thick cock in your walls, crushed under his weight and entirely at his mercy. Helpless Seungcheol latches his hand you yours, intertwines your fingers, and cants against like he’s possessed.
Eyes rolled as you go limp, you reach for his face and whimper into his mouth, climbing higher and higher until you hit the ceiling. Your hands are everywhere, anywhere in reach as you fail to ground yourself against the wave of pleasure rolling through your veins. And it all shatters with a whimper of his name.
He’s perfect and he’s yours and you don’t know what you did to earn him but you know you could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him.
You try to break through the noise. But it just serves to make things worse because the only thing the man on top you likes to see more than you desperate for him is you coming on his cock. The arm above your head collapses, sending all of his weight on you, forcing him deeper into your guts until you can taste him on the back of your tongue. The wet clap of his balls against your ass with each rut forward rockets you into the deep end. 
“Shit, shit, shit.” Seungcheol bites into your jaw. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you’re so good. So good.” 
It’s blinding, eyes cinched so tight fireworks float in the darkness; Seungcheol’s moans blending with the rush of blood fleeing your brain. He’s feral with the satisfaction of your orgasm, how you wail beneath him like your neighbors won’t hear and know you have a man who pleases you in every way imaginable. Like you want everyone to know his name.
“Cheol,” you whisper, all breath. So quiet he wouldn’t hear you if he wasn’t dialed into your every move. “Want…” you pant. “Want you…”
Seungcheol presses as deep as he can before letting go; stuffing you with his cum, grinding into your pussy with every jerk of his cock until it spills around where he splits you and slips down your ass. 
His eyes never leave yours, watching you take every drop of his affection like you were made to. Like he was the one made to give it to you. Even with your thrashing, you never look away.
A final pathetic noise scratches the inside of your throat when he’s done. Seungcheol won’t pull out but he will pull away, yearning to see the mess between your bodies. Cum and arousal smears your bellies, your thighs, the base of his cock still inside you. Eventually he'll pull you up to wash off and you have no doubt the cushion will be beyond repair.
When he’s had his fill, he collapses into your chest, arms twine around your back as he kisses you with every ounce of devotion he can spare. Until you can feel his love down to the tips of your toes and through every last cell in your body.
And because showing you isn’t enough, he tells you again and again while he fills you once more in the comfort of your shared bed.
-
Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu
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fettuccin-e · 11 months
Text
The First Time
Kinktober Day 15: Size Kink
Tags: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), fingering (r!recieving), oral (r!giving and recieving), Frankie's monster schlong, yeah he's got a giant dick we all know it (w/c: 1.5K)
A/N: Part of the rapid-fire Kinktober catch up! My absolutely massive size kink really let itself free with this one (get it?? massive?? hehehe) but anyway please enjoy my ramblings about taking Frankie's gigantic schlong. (I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings for Kinktober!)
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The first time you undress Frankie, really see him for the first time, bare and open to your gaze, you think you’re fucking hallucinating. He’d been so shy when you’d first met, so unassuming next to Pope and Will and Benny. Tugging the brim of his cap to cover his eyes, a timid little smile playing on his face as you flirted with him, not his friends. 
You couldn’t have expected the fucking monster between his thighs the first time you have him naked in your bed, his cock so thick you can barely wrap your hand around him. You don't expect the way you choke on him when you try to blow him, only for you to realize that you hadn't even made it halfway.
He doesn’t fuck you that night, the both of you too high on each other’s bodies and too tipsy from the bottle of wine you’d shared earlier.
“Need time to get you ready, hermosa,” he whispers in your ear, fucking you so hard and deep on his fingers you nearly cry. “Next time baby, next time.”
The first time he fucks you, he doesn’t make it all the way. You think you're ready, despite Frankie’s protests, begging him to fuck you, grinding into his mouth, into his fingers as he works orgasm after orgasm out of your heaving body. Through your blurry eyes, you can see the way his hips thrust gently into the mattress, fucking himself into your sheets as he eats you out, groaning into your pussy as you gush down his face. It’s fucking maddening.
He lines himself up, pressing into you gently, so gently, but God, it’s already too much. Too fucking much. You gasp as the thick head of his cock presses into your entrance, spreading you so much wider than his fingers, wider than you’ve ever been stretched. It fucking stings, and you dig your nails into Frankie’s shoulders as you try to take it for him.
He only sinks in halfway before your body just can’t take it anymore, squeezing him so tight that he can’t possibly move deeper. Tears spring to your eyes at the feeling of it, and you try to apologize, but Frankie only leans down to seal his mouth to yours, kissing the breath out of your lungs.
“Feels so fucking good,” he mutters against your lips, sounding so fucking wrecked, and you throb around him at the sound of it. “Your little pussy is so fucking tight.” 
You feel lightheaded at the destroyed rasp of his voice, and when he moves, you feel lightning rocket up your spine, whining loudly against his lips. He grins, the shy boy from the bar long gone as he thrusts until he’s halfway in again, fucking you on only half his cock as you keen beneath him. You have no idea how he’ll ever fit inside completely, how just half of him fills you up more than anyone else ever has. “Wanna take all of you,” you gasp, “want it all inside, fuck, Frankie, please.”
He shushes you gently, smoothing his hands down your sides. “Mi amor, we need more time to get you ready,” he murmurs softly. “Next time, baby, next time.”
He fucks you just like that, breaking you open with just half of his cock and fisting the base in a large, warm palm until you squeeze around him with your orgasm. When you beg him to cum inside you, he groans, pumping you full, gripping tight to your thighs. You promise yourself that next time you'll take all of him.
The first time you take Frankie, really, truly take him, you think that he’s more affected than you are.
You’re so wet, dripping down your thighs from Frankie’s endless preparation, his lips shiny with your slick as he leans down to kiss you slowly, deliberately. You find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself.
He’s been fucking you on his thick fingers for what seems like hours, spreading you so wide, wide enough that you thought you’d break.
You don’t know how many times he’s made you cum, how many times he’s told you that it’ll make you looser, get you ready. You think he just likes watching you fall apart, his eyes blown wide as you tremble against the sheets. 
When he finally, finally notches the thick tip of his cock against your entrance, pushing forward slowly, you try to brace yourself for pain. It’s so much, he’s so much, and it should hurt, fuck, you should feel like you’re being ripped apart. 
But your mind is foggy with desperation, your need to finally fit him inside, that you can barely feel the pain at all. You can only gasp for air as his cock stretches you wide, pressing in so deep it’s like you can feel it in your lungs. And he just slides in, easy as that, as if it was easy all along.
And as much as you moan and gasp, your fingers clutching into the skin of his back, it is nothing compared to the way Frankie fucking whines at the feeling of it, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he stills his hips, pressed in as deep as he can get.
“Fuck me, please, oh my God, Frankie,” you gasp, grinding your hips against his on pure instinct, desperate to get him in deeper, somehow. But his hands tighten on you, gripping so hard you think he’ll leave bruises.
“Stop,” he says, deep and raspy and fucking primal. “Stop fucking moving, shit, ‘m trying not to fucking cum.” He sounds goddamn sinful, and your pussy throbs at the sheer idea of him filling you up just from finally fitting inside you. You let him breathe through it, raking your nails gently up his back. He shivers at your touch.
You suck air in through your teeth when he pulls out, just barely, only to fuck back in. He does it again, and again, and again, thrusting so deep into you that his cock fucking drags into your sweet spot, not even trying. You’ve never felt so fucking full before.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so goddamn tight, don’t even know how I can fuckin’ fit,” he mutters, pulling your thighs tighter around his hips and pulling you down onto his thick cock with every thrust. “This little cunt is just sucking me in, ‘s like she can’t get enough.”
“God, yes, Frankie please,” you choke out between labored breaths, your vision blurring at the edges. All you can fucking feel, hear, smell is Frankie above you, warm and towering over you, filling you up so perfect.
“So goddamn pretty wrapped around my cock,” he growls, pounding into you hard enough that tears start to pour down your cheeks. “My greedy baby, am I big enough for you?”
“Fuck! Yes, it’s so- it’s so fuckin’ big, Frankie, I can feel it in my fucking stomach.” You’re slurring your words, your brain turned to mush as Frankie breaks you apart so viciously. He reaches between you to rub quick circles into your clit with a calloused thumb, and your body locks up, your back arching so far it presses your tits into Frankie’s strong chest.
“That’s right, honey, just fuckin’ feel it. Nobody else can fill you up like I can, right?” he snarls, and you can only nod frantically, choked moans punched from your throat every time he thrusts inside you. “Cum, sweetheart. Show me how much you love my big cock.”
And you have no other choice but to fucking scream, pulsing violently around him as you cum. You’re fucking lost in it, broken apart in the best way possible, and Frankie groans, stilling inside of your as he fills you up with cum. It’s pure bliss, a goddamn revelation, and you don’t think it’s ever going to fucking stop. He smothers your cries with a kiss, licking into your mouth and soothing you like a wild animal as you both ride out the aftershocks. 
When you finally feel yourself start to breathe normally again, to find it in yourself to blink blearily up at him, smiling softly when you see him already staring down at you. As he pulls out of you, you feel the emptiness immediately, whining as he shushes you gently. “I know, honey, I know,” he murmurs, falling beside you and pulling you into him. “You did so good for me.”
“Damn right I did,” you murmur, sleep already weighing down your eyelids. “Who else is going to take that monster dick of yours?”
He laughs, loud and gruff in the most perfectly Frankie-way you could possibly imagine. “Don’t act like you didn’t fucking love it, hermosa.”
And, well, you don’t really have arguments for that.
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toruro · 1 year
Text
— ✧ to the brim
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pairing. kim mingyu x reader
description. all your sweet husband wants is to put a baby into you—is that so bad?
↳ tags. smut (18+), breeding kink, husband!mingyu, filthy honestly
w/c. 2.9k
a/n. request .. i couldnt hold back
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you shut your eyes tight, squirming against the soft linen sheets as your husband holds you down. mingyu’s thick, strong arm latches onto your hips, pushing them back down whenever you dig your heels into the mattress and lift them up.
his tongue is lapping at your cunt, the lower half of his face slowly turning into a slobbering, dripping mess. “gyu,” you cry out, as he brings up a single finger and plunges it into your gummy walls, rubbing against them relentlessly and moves his mouth to your clit.
this is mingyu’s treat, as he put it five minutes earlier when you rolled on top of him this morning. you’d spent a few peaceful minutes laying on his sheet as he stroked his fingers through your hair as you drowsily murmured something about enjoying this weekend. of course, mingyu being the loving, caring, giving husband that he is, he offered to go down on you to make sure your day started off a little extra sweet.
now, as mingyu promised, you’re on the verge of your likely first of many orgasms for the next two days, nearly having to grab a pillow to cover your mouth so you don’t get a noise complaint from your neighbors.
reaching down to pull his hair, mingyu moans against your core when you tug at the thick brown locks, the vibrations building up that knot that he’s been so carefully tying. he’s looking you right in the eyes and the way his eyelids are half closed, almost as if he’s enjoying this as much as you (he probably is), has that knot being pulled so tight that you can’t help but let tears prick at corner of your eyes when it finally snaps.
mingyu fucks his fingers into you so fast it has you seeing stars as you ride out your orgasm, his demanding grip on your waist finally being release so you can swivel your hips to meet the movements of his hands. coming down with cries of his name and heavy pants, mingyu finally frees your overstimulated cunt of his ministrations, not breaking his gaze on you.
“you liked that?” he asks jokingly, peeling himself away from your wet thighs, glistening chin on display under the morning glow. rolling your eyes as you finally catch your breath, you let your hiked up knees fall to the bed as mingyu crawls up to you, pressing a messy kiss on your lips.
wincing slightly at the feeling of your own wetness against your cheeks, you push his face away gently. “of course i liked that,” you mumble, face burning.
mingyu chuckles, rolling over and laying in his back next to you, legs intertwined with yours. “just making sure angel,” he replies, bringing up a finger to wipe away some of the wetness from his lips, watching you as you shimmy your panties back on. he pouts when he realizes you’re getting up, fisting and unfisting his hand as he reaches out for you in a grabbing motion. “want more, angel.”
you consider going along with whatever plans mingyu has, and although you are quite turned on, you also feel the need to be a little productive. “i thought this was my treat, was it not?” you retort, swinging your legs over the bed and standing up, making your way out the door.
mingyu huffs at your response, “you’re lame,” throwing his head back. he kicks his legs around in the bed with a faux tantrum, rolling over to your side—he insists it’s warmer—and reaches for your phone. “hey babe, what’s your password again?” he calls out to you in a teasing tone when you’re at the bedroom door.
“mingyu there’s no way you just asked me that,” you sigh, knowing where this is going. he looks up at you with a smug grin as he holds your phone in the air.
“i know,” he says smugly, ”i just want to hear you say it.”
warmth permeates your body at his honesty, and you ears burn as you turn away, embarrassed. “it’s your birthday…”
“aww, really?” he coos as if you haven’t repeated this a million times.
“yes babe,” you mumble, walking out the door. “don’t milk it, or i’ll change it.”
mingyu gasps from the bed. “you would never,” he yells in disbelief.
“would so!” you yell back, grinning to yourself knowing that it’s a damn lie. “what are you doing on my phone anyways?” you ask curiously from the kitchen.
“‘m checking your calendar,” he replies, and from the open door you can see him scrolling through what you can only assume is your period app. you, once again, have an idea of where this is going to go, except this time you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to control yourself—not with the way you instinctively press your thighs together as you remember that it’s that time of month.
no, not that time of month—the other time of month.
you don’t even have time to think about what you’re going to make for breakfast because mingyu is thudding down the hallway and circling his large hand around your wrist and dragging you back to the bedroom. you can’t even find it in you to protest at this point, the familiar pooling of heat at the base of your stomach reinforcing the fact that you want—no, need—this as much as him.
you stumble over your steps but mingyu’s grip on you is tight and steady and before you know it he has you in the air and thrown onto the mattress. “you’re already prepped right angel?” mingyu confirms as he pushes his boxers down before clambering on top of you, resting himself between your legs.
“i dunno,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him down into a fierce kiss. “you kind of did eat me out like five minutes ago, did you forget?”
“how could i?” mingyu grins, tugging at the hem of your (his) shirt as a signal to take it off. “you look so hot when you cum,” he adds, “wish i could take a picture and make it my wallpaper or something.” he yanks down your soiled panties once more, making it a personal goal for himself to make sure you don’t get the chance to put them back on this morning.
“you already have pictures,” you remind him, slipping off mingyu’s shirt from your body, falling back onto the sheets as he stares down at you, his painfully hard length pressing into your thigh.
“yeah but they aren’t my wallpaper,” mingyu whines, flicking your clit once and chuckling at the way your body jerks.
“maybe because i don’t want—i don’t know—dokyeom to see me naked every time you open your phone.”
“ugh, you’re right—i hate sharing,” he agrees, nudging his tip against your folds. “you ready angel?”
"uh-huh," you murmur, lifting your hips slightly so he can line himself up with your hole. his bulbous tip hardly pushes in an inch before you're whining out his name and pushing the side of your face into the mattress from the stretch.
not even years with mingyu can prepare you for the way his cock is always so thick and long—the initial stretch is always a challenge, but the sensation of being split in two by your one and only husband has become one that you cherish.
"fuck," mingyu grunts, letting his had fall to your shoulder as he eases his cock into your cunt. "you're fucking sucking me in babe," he continues as he finally bottoms out. pressing kissing onto your skin, you dig your nails into mingyu's back as he allows you to adjust.
when you start to involuntarily rock your hips into his, mingyu takes this as his chance to take control, pressing his arms into your pelvis to still your movements. looking up at him with confusion, his only response is a smirk as he roughly snaps his hips back, the harsh drag of his cock making your vision go hazy and your mind go dizzy. without warning, he ruts back into you, and he feels so close that you nearly feel his cock pulsing inside of your cunt.
the sound of your soaked pussy and mingyu's cock colliding echos through the room, a wet puddle forming beneath the area you connect. your body shakes on the mattress with every thrust, his hips sending you in a back and forth motion as you reach for his hand to stabilize yourself.
"fuck, how are you always this tight?" he moans, slick from your cunt running down his thigh as he angles himself higher above you.
"f-feels so good gyu," you manage to gasp, your legs weakening, their grip on his hips growing loose. "baby, your shoulders—fuck—ca-can you—can i—" you beg incandescently, not making much sense but it seems mingyu understands the message as he slows down his movements.
"god yes." grabbing your legs, he pushes them up so that your knees are pressing against your chest. you secure them in their spot by wrapping your hands under your knees, but the position doesn't last for long before mingyu throws each leg over his shoulder so your ankles touch behind his neck. mingyu latches his arms over your legs that are now pressed against his chest, before pulling his hips back and ramming back into you.
the sound of skin slapping against skin rings in your ears and with every batter of his cock against that one spot in your cunt, you feel closer and closer to white, hot release. you grapple at the sheets around you, not being able to hold your husband's hands, and squirm at the feeling of his cock twitch inside of you.
"you close gyu? 'm close," you moan.
"yeah—shit—i can tell babe, you're squeezing me so tight, so good. gonna milk me dry angel?" he grunts, pressing down further so you're nearly bent in half.
"i wanna," you babble mindlessly, "wanna cum with you—wanna have your cum gyu—"
even in your hazy state, you catch the way mingyu's eyes darken at your words. "fuck say that again," he orders.
"want your cum!" you cry out, feeling the hot coil in your stomach grow close to it's end. "fill me up gyu, 'm so close, 'm ready—please, please, please, gimme your cum gyu, please." your words are going through mingyu's ears and straight down to his cock and then he's slamming into you so hard you think you might fall off the face of the earth.
"fucking perfect pussy, 'm gonna fill you up, fill you up so good your tummy's gonna be all swollen with my baby," mingyu moans with thick spurts of his seed shooting through you, marking your cunt as his. the feeling has your back arching off the mattress, legs shaking over his shoulders as you shriek his name. "you like that?"
"mingyu—shit! love it, love your cum, love you!" you whine as pleasure slams through your body, legs giving out from the tension so they fall by mingyu's side so he can continue fucking into you despite his own overstimulation.
he watches the way you twitch at every movement, looking down at the part when his cock kisses your pussy, adoring the way he's able to fuck all his dripping seed back into you, muttering to himself about how he's gotta "make sure you don't waste a drop."
within a few moments you're both intertwined as an overstimulated mess, mingyu finally stilling inside of you as you pant for breath. "think it worked?" he murmurs, and you lift your head to look down at your core.
"it'd better," you reply, letting mingyu lean down to kiss you. then, against his lips, you continue, "we fucked up the sheets for this." you shift a little and then you feel the cool wet spot that has formed, cringing at how you already have to change the sheets.
"mm, we can just make use of the space…you know, since it's already so messy," mingyu suggest, pulling away from your lips and now that he's not kissing you, you're hyper aware of the way he's growing hard inside of you.
"mingyu—"
"c'mon angel, you know you want to. need to see you brimming with my cum," he eggs you on, grabbing your waist and turning you over on your stomach while he's still inside of you. you feel the stretch from inside of your pussy return, and mingyu's words are doing nothing but filthy things to you because you feel yourself growing warmer at the thought of his cum seeping out of you.
"please," you squeak out when he forcefully yanks your hips up so your ass is in the air, lined up with mingyu's pelvis.
"so needy," mingyu chuckles, pulling his length out halfway, placing a hand on your ass to steady himself. your whole core is covered in wetness, a mix of his saliva from earlier when he went down on you, his cum, and your own wetness. the sticky mixture coats both of your bodies now, and mingyu can't help but spiral at the idea that after this, you're going to be filled with even more of his cum.
he snaps his hips so his cock slamming back into you with such sheer force that you lurch forward, the only thing holding you in your spot being mingyu's grip on your lower half. "bet you wanted this—fuck—" he mutters out, each word punctuated with increasingly sharp thrusts, "—from the moment you woke up. wanted to be fucked raw. wanted me to dump my cum inside of your perfect fucking pussy."
"yes!" you agree without a thought to your head, arms giving out so your face is pressing into the mattress now. your moans are a bit muffled and mingyu is slightly annoyed that he can't hear you to your fullest, releasing his irritation by plunging his cock into your gaping cunt harder and harder, which has you crying out louder and louder.
"holy fuck, you're so tight—are you gonna cum already?" mingyu groans as you arch your back and push your ass back to meet his thrusts, chasing your third orgasm of the day.
"s-sorry gyu—it feels s-so so good," you blabber, tears springing at your eyes as a sob rips at your throat. you're so close already, your core squeezing and twitching uncontrollably at the immense stimulation and pleasure that's coming over you. you're tethering on to whatever last bit of self control you have as mingyu abuses your warm, wet walls with his cock.
"don't apologize angel," mingyu reminds you, but it's hard to believe him when his voice sounds so strained. you can tell he's refraining, holding himself back from letting loose and now you're mind is going blank at the thought of mingyu cumming inside you as tears begin to streak down your cheeks.
"oh my god, mingyu, 'm getting close," you warn, body growing limp as your thighs begin to cramp.
"fuck, my precious angel gonna cum on my cock? gonna make a mess?"
"yes, love your cock mingyu, love it, need it," you plead. "can i have your cum? wan' more of your cum gyu—feels so good." your vocabulary is reducing to that of a five-year olds (save for the repeated begging for mingyu's seed) and you can't help but hiccup over yourself.
"wan' my cum? fuck, i'll give you my cum—breeding you like the good fucking girl you are," mingyu spits out, jamming his cock into you with sloppy but determined thrusts. they're erratic and mindless but it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you cum for the third time this morning.
muffling your cries with the sheets underneath you, the way you're bawling out his name and pleading, "fill me up gyu, do it deep," has him letting go of all notions of self control.
he's cumming inside of you once more with one last thrust, murmuring, "gonna fuck a baby into you—you want that? wanna have my babies, angel?"
"yes gyu—fuck!" you moan at the feeling of his load being squirted inside of you, the hot ropes of cum seeming endless as the sensation helps you ride out the last of your orgasm.
"fuck, i've filled you to the brim," mingyu groans, looking down at the way his and your liquids cream the base of his cock and balls, the mess dripping down onto the linen. "what a mess," he mumbles to himself, more satisfied with himself than anything.
you're still slightly shaking, the past three orgasms fully catching up to you with a harsh wave of exhaustion that has your body falling forward flat onto the mattress, mingyu slipping out of you in the process. you let out a soft groan at the feeling of being empty, but have no time to dwell on the thought as mingyu flips you over again so you're lying on your back.
you're able to see the look on his face now, finally facing him, and the way his eyes sparkle down at you has your stomach tumbling in adoration. "i love you," mingyu states, eyes trailing down from your face back down to your cunt.
"i love you too," you chuckle before saying, "my eyes are up here lover boy." mingyu rolls his eyes, but doesn't peel his eyes away. "take a picture babe, it'll last longer." mingyu's eyes shoot up at that.
"can i?"
"only if you send it to me too."
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a/n. hope you enjoyed! please like and reblog and let me know how u liked this c:
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