#que lo que papi

[gbukkii]

plug Connie x black reader sum nasty smut and angst 🥰🥰

oh yes bby i got youuuu.

A/N: i haven't wrote any sort of smut since march so this might be kinda bad. other than that please enjoy :)

synopsis: you and connie have been arguing, leading to make up sex at a party.

tags: degradation, creampie, smut with plot, eye fucking, cunnilingus, p in v.

ＤＲＡＮＫ ！； ｃｏｎｎｉｅ ｓｐｒｉｎｇｅｒ

"Babe, I'm done arguing with you," Connie said looking at you. You sat with your legs crossed on the shared bed you and your boyfriend slept on. Your bonnet was slightly crooked to the side with your back slouched.

"You're doing too much." He added as he stood at the foot of the bed looking at you like you were crazy.

Lately, you and Connie have been arguing over complete nonsense.

Yesterday you guys argued about him being out all night doing his work which consisted of selling the local population drugs. This morning you guys argued over who had to wash the dishes.

"Baby, I told you I would do them later after I was done with my deliveries." He softly explained to you. "I don't understand why you're so frustrated with me." He said, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"You don't understand?" You asked, mocking the tone of his voice. Connie sighed loudly as you said that; you were really getting on his nerves.

"You don't understand that your drug dealing impacts our relationship?" Your voice got a little bit louder as you spoke, you were growing tired of his absence. This relationship was feeling extremely one-sided.

"You know what I did before you got with me." He tells you, his voice is low as he looks at you in disbelief.

You were tired of this conversation. You get up from the bed and before you can walk past Connie he grabs your arm softly, not being too rough.

"Connie get off of me!" You snapped at him, pulling your arm away from his grip.

"Don't yell at me." He told you, his voice sounding more like a warning as he looked down at you with those big eyes that you adored so much.

It was hard to stay mad at him when he looked down at you like that. But, you were tired of him constantly making promises and leaving them empty.

"I need space." You told him, changing your tone of voice realizing that snapping on him wouldn't improve the situation.

When you said you needed space that pissed him off. "What do you mean?" His agitation visibly showed on his face.

"I need to be alone for a couple of days." You told him as you looked up at him, waiting to see his reaction. "Where the fuck are you gonna go?" He quickly said.

He was obviously mad.

Why do you need space over a stupid argument?

"So you need space because I told you to wait for me to do the dishes?" He asked you condescendingly, that tone really ticked you off.

"No, I need space because you don't have your priorities straight." You said as you started to put on your Crocs to leave the apartment.

Connie was looking at you too stunned to speak. You were actually leaving. "Where are you going? I don't care about all that other shit." He says, following your every move.

You rolled your eyes as he spoke. "I know you don't care, that's the point." You snapped as you took the keys to your car.

"I'll be at my parents, let me know when you have your shit together." You said before walking out the door, slamming it in Connie's face.

The moment you slammed the door in Connies face he backed up. He murmured something under his breath and then let out a sigh while scratching his head in confusion.

You giggled while being on FaceTime with some of your closest friends.

You haven't talked to Connie in a couple of days. You've been with your parents staying low.

"Y/n, are you going to Jeans' party?" Your friend Aliviya asked you.

"I was supposed to go," You softly told her while looking directly at your laptops camera. "But, now I'm not sure" You added.

Jean was one of Connie's closest friends, they grew up together and even did business with one another.

"Bitch, don't let your argument ruin your fun." Your friend Samantha said, your other friends on the call nodding their heads in agreement.

"You're coming," Aliviya said, leaving no room for an argument. "I'll come get you at twelve, that gives you plenty of time to get ready." She says before leaving the call. After Aliviya left, everybody said their goodbyes.

You closed your MacBook after everybody left the call, sighing while looking at yourself in the vanity mirror.

You got yourself ready. Blasting your favorite songs from your playlist to lift up your spirits, despite how much you hate to admit this; arguing with Connie was affecting you.

The knot-less boho braids in your hair touched your butt in the black, but classy party dress that you were wearing. You checked yourself out in the mirror before spraying tons of vanilla scented perfume.

You did one last spin in the mirror before grabbing your gold clutch and phone. When you checked your phone you saw that Aliviya had texted you, signaling that she was outside waiting for you.

After you put on your heels you left your parents house to see Aliviya's obnoxious car outside playing music, and of course, smelling like weed.

You entered Jeans house with your friends, the loud music practically making you deaf. The smell of alcohol and different strains of weed hit you like a ton of bricks.

Aliviya leads you to the drinks, quickly offering you something to get your mind off of things. To be honest, you needed it.

But, as soon as you took that sip of Pink Whitney you immediately spotted your boyfriend talking to Jean. You guys made eye contact, and you looked away in a heartbeat.

Connie then excused himself from the conversation he was having with Jean and approached you.

"So, you're gonna act like you didn't see me?" He pressed you while taking long glances at your curvy body. You shifted uncomfortably at his gaze, him looking at you was making you incredibly aroused.

Your cocky boyfriend takes note of this. "Who you wearing this for?" He said, pulling at the straps of your body-con dress. His eyes were on you, and only you.

"I'm wearing this dress for myself." You told him while trying to move away from him and his wandering eyes. He raised an eyebrow at your statement, he also realized that you were trying to move away from him.

He discreetly pinned you against the kitchen counter with his hands on your hips. You were looking everywhere but him, searching for your friend Aliviya but her tongue was down Jeans throat.

"Hey, look at me." Connie said, "You haven't looked at me since you got here." He pointed out, and it was true. When you did make eye contact with him you quickly looked away.

You didn't know if it was the tension from the argument between you, or the tension in your panties that was begging to be fucked.

When he said that you looked at him, your brown skin was glowing with rosy cheeks. Connie smiled at this, you were always so good for him. Listening to him, as you should.

"Come with me." He said, taking your hand and quickly leading you through the crowded house. After walking in on multiple couples in the rooms, you found an empty bathroom.

Connie wasted no time grabbing you firm, but gently on the neck and bringing you in for a deep passionate kiss. The kiss was slow at first, and then progressively got quicker and nastier.

Connie broke the kiss, placing his big tatted hands on your butt and lifting you up onto the sink. Your legs involuntarily opened for him, your body already knew the routine.

The song Swimming Pools came on. The lyrics were muffled but you recognized the beat.

Before you knew it, Connie was in between your legs taking off your panties with his teeth looking up at you the entire time. He teased you, kissing and licking your inner thighs slowly.

Without a warning he then began to fiercely suck on your clit, still looking up at you. "Oh my fucking god." You mewled, grinding your pussy impatiently on Connies face.

He then began to lick on your folds to the beat of the song playing throughout the house. You moaned loudly, letting Connie know that you were close.

But, you didn't deserve to finish. Not yet.

Connie abruptly stopped his licking, making you whine at the loss of friction. He brang his face out from between your thighs. He had your juices all over his pink lips.

He looked at your face, noticing the look of disappointment. "You think you deserve to cum after the way you've been acting?" He asks you.

He pulls you down from the sink, quickly not leaving you any time to complain. He bends you over so you were facing the bathroom mirror.

You hear Connie undoing his belt, and taking his thick and long dick out. He then grabbed you by the face.

"You're gonna look at me while I'm fucking you, understand?" You quickly nodded your head. You were desperate for him, all this arguing had you pent up and horny.

He let go of your face and then slapped your wet pussy with his hand, making you jolt forward and let out a tiny whimper before he stuck his thick digits in you. He was preparing you for the real deal.

He fingered you until you were on the brink of cumming, he then pulled his fingers out of your sopping cunt. You see him lick his fingers clean from behind you through the mirror.

Connie gently grabbed you by the waist, although he was gentle he still made it known that he had dominance. He led his big throbbing dick into you, letting out a moan as he bottoms out.

He looks at you through the mirror, making sure you were still paying attention and following his directions. He then started to move quickly and with a purpose.

He watched as the flesh of your ass connected with his balls. "Look at you, you're such a whore for me." He said through gritted teeth while he continued to look at you through the mirror.

Everytime you closed your eyes and didn't watch him, he roughly hit your g-spot making your eyes open with a moan.

He pulled you by your braids as he roughly fucked into you, he was leaving you a moaning mess. "Connie!" You moaned his name as you came closer to release.

"What baby?" He mocked as he continued to fuck you. He let go of your braids, moving closer to your neck while thrusting up into you. He began to kiss on your neck, feeling a little bit sorry for the way he was fucking you.

He felt you were getting tight around him. The knot in your stomach snapped, you came all over his dick. He continued to fuck you through your orgasm trying to reach his.

He smacked your ass making you moan loudly. That moan sent him over the edge, he came in you. Releasing all of his load and frustration into you.

You were both out of breath, you stood bent over the sink for awhile before Connie said anything.

"So, do I still have to do those dishes?"

[selfishpresley]

Have you seen checos new haircut??? It’s giving dilf rich daddy 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

I’ve seen his haircut but it’s been eclipsed by something much bigger

[salenmatecitos]

mi viejo que se saco el monotributo social el año pasado para jubilarse en unos años y que apoya a milei... el verdadero bueno hermano ahora jodete

[starberry-cupcake]

La memoria no existe sin conciencia. La conciencia de la apertura a lo que es y lo que fue. 

No una repetición teórica ni una superficialidad de representación, sino una escucha profunda a lo que se transitó, a lo que se experimentó, a lo que se sobrevivió. 

No solamente lo propio, sino también (y principalmente) lo que sobrevivieron quienes nos precedieron. Porque pueblo somos todes. 

Cuando se dice que los pueblos sin memoria están condenados a la repetición, no se habla solamente de la memoria como “recuerdo”, sino de la memoria como empatía, como la conexión de un pueblo consigo mismo. 

Por más que recordemos, seguimos condenades a repetir si ese recuerdo se transforma en una mera etiqueta para pararse de un lado o del otro de una grieta fabricada por intereses ajenos al pueblo que somos.

Con agentes internos, beneficiados por esos intereses, que trabajan incansablemente para que nos disparemos constantemente en la identidad. 

Porque los derechos humanos no son una opinión política. La empatía no es una opinión política. La decencia, el amparo, el respeto, el bienestar, no son opiniones. Son condiciones humanas. 

Y me estremece escuchar el discurso que impone que, para triunfar como individuos, tenemos que pisar al de abajo. Ese es el mismo discurso de antes. El que tendríamos que recordar para no revivirlo NUNCA MÁS.

Es difícil hablar de memoria si la memoria es tan a corto plazo que la búsqueda de un beneficio personal, en forma de espejismo demagógico, nubla la vista a la realidad de un discurso lleno de odio. 

La memoria, para mí, no es un ejercicio del recuerdo. Es un ejercicio de presencia. Porque si los filtros materiales ciegan la compasión, lo que se está recordando no es real.

La insensibilidad es la herramienta más efectiva del olvido.

[smileflowcr]

Ir de distrito en distrito es algo normal para él, tomando diversos trabajos sin importar qué tan arriesgados sean, tal vez porque en el fondo desea encontrar la muerte -sin importarle si es dolorosa o no- y así, detener los latidos de su corazón. Encuentra calma al caminar por las diferentes ciudades bajo las luces que decoran tiendas clandestinas, donde se puede encontrar des locales de comidas hasta prótesis robadas. Cada humano sobrevive a su manera, tomando trabajos que podían acabar con la poca humanidad que les queda, mientras otros esperan pacientemente cerrar los ojos para siempre entre la basura o escombros de edificios abandonados. Bulyeong ha encontrado tantos cuerpos que dejó de contarlos hace tiempo, al principio sentía incomodidad al tocar la fría piel de los cadáveres, teniendo malos recuerdos de quienes fueron su familia hace cientos de años y debió despedir para siempre, guardando en una pequeña cajita bajo su cama el juguete favorito de cada uno, siendo el único objeto que se llevó consigo cuando decidió huir con Haneul y Sooan.

Los colores neón del Distrito 5 parpadeaban, dando un aspecto más terrorífico a las calles y podía jurar escuchar gritos entre los callejones. Quizás eran pandillas enfrentándose por el territorio, o los soldados de la luz de Ciudad Luminosa buscando nuevos sujetos de pruebas, sea quién sea no iba a recibir ayuda, porque Bulyeong mantiene la vista en un cuerpo que yace en un montón de chatarra, con sangre y heridas a su alrededor. Se inclina hacia adelante para tocar la piel y comprobar si sigue respirando, sin embargo una extraña pero familiar sensación recorre por su espalda y está seguro que su rostro palidece. ¿Por qué? ¿Por qué ese chico le recuerda a Sooan? No se parecen en nada físicamente, pero la calidez que transmite es la misma a la de su amado a pesar que hay un agujero en su pecho. No tiene mucho tiempo para dudar pues percibe pasos a la distancia y en su dirección, así que carga al joven en sus brazos y se dirige corriendo al único lugar y persona en quién confía. Conoce cada distrito como la palma de su mano, por lo que trazar una ruta hacia el 1 no es tarea difícil, logrando camuflarse entre las sombras y asustando con la mirada a cualquier intruso que se sienta atraído. “¿Quién eres…?” pregunta en vano, el muchacho estaba al borde de la muerte y lo sabe por la forma que respira. Bulyeong se muerde el labio de la angustia, apresurando la marcha hasta llegar a unos suburbios que no conoce pero que su amigo describió con lujo de detalles en las cartas. Nunca creyó que volvería a él y si lo hacía, es porque fue capaz de enterar el amor para siempre. Se para frente a la puerta, dudando si habla, podía tocar, dejar al chico e irse antes que lo descubriera, no obstante su cuerpo se rehúsa a marcharse, diciéndole a gritos que hay algo especial en el humano que carga, algo que los conecta. “Sooan, soy yo, abre la puerta, es urgente.” Sus manos tiemblan y un dolor nace en su pecho, acompañado del mismo miedo que no ha experimentado desde que escaparon del laboratorio y su única preocupación era proteger a Sooan. “Alguien te necesita— yo te necesito, María, por favor.” La desesperación le obliga alzar la voz,  sujetando con fuerza el cuerpo del humano y sintiendo cómo va perdiendo su calor.

[gatoburr0]

Guess who’s my new hyperfixation rn (impossible)

[supernova-rsrcs]

Revivo de entre los muertos

Si les contara lo que han sido estas últimas dos semanas, nos amanecemos aquí PERO les adelanto: todo bien, estoy viva, se necesita más para acabar conmigo.

No posteé con ningún pj en todo este tiempo y no estoy tranquila si no digo por qué. Tuve tremenda sesión de terapia cerrando mi corazón a mi señor padre OFICIALMENTE que me dejó como Zuko enfermo después de haber hecho la primera buena acción de su vida liberando a Appa.

Así es, me dio fiebre y migraña dos días seguidos de lo mal que me puso aceptar que no quiero a mi señor padre en mi vida (spoiler: no es como si estuviera presente vedah pero eso fue otra sesión de terapia, se la perdieron) PERO REVIVÍ porque soy una borracha y ese mismo fin de semana tenía un festival de cerveza artesanal que tenía planeado desde hace dos meses Y NI MI PAPÁ NI MIS CRISIS EXISTENCIALES me detendrán para irme a emborracharme hasta el culo como se exige de una veinteañera como yo.

Lo malo es que soy una nena y me dejó con migraña el domingo, típica cruda culera con mi novio burlándose porque es un borracho con mayor trayectoria. Y ese bendito domingo que comí un puto teriyaki en el que confié ciegamente porque lo orden�� de Didi, ¿qué mal podía causar? PUES TODO, TODO MAL POSIBLE CAUSARÍA.

Porque me dejó con TRES PUTOS DÍAS de diarrea y el doctor me dejó una dieta a base de gelatina de agua y electrolit. Obvio que soy una tramposa y justo me había comprado unas uvas, y al primer día no aguanté y me chingué las tostadas que me quedaban, aprovechando el vacío legal "no comas sólidos o cosas que sean demasiados difíciles de digerir", así que también comí PAN, tostado pero PAN. Dieta de supermodelo por tres días: gelatina, electrolit, uvas y pan. Y un licuado de fresa embotellado del oxxo.

Lo bueno es que ya no tengo diarrea y creo que bajé de peso. Lo malo es que ahora estoy ESTREÑIDA y no me sale ni un pedo.

Pero ya puedo postear sin sentir que me explotará la cabeza o el culo. Así que les responderé a todos los que le debo este fin, cuando esté haciendo trampa huyendo de mis tareas de final de semestre JEJE

[goldammerchen]

ludwig recieving anon hate: stop trying to bully me, my brother will find you and i don't want him to go to jail.

[itmedusaa]

Lo intenté, yo lo intenté, yo quise ser feliz, yo nos quise ser feliz, me quería engañar, pensé que podría recuperar la familia que ustedes destruyeron, que nunca cuidaron, creí hacerlo bien, creí haberme esforzado lo suficiente, pero ya me cansé, me canse de sonreír cada que aparecían. Me cansé de sembrar y que nunca regaran, me canse de ser mediador y que nunca llegaran a acuerdos, me canse de enmendar lo que ustedes rompían, me cansé. Estoy cansada, cansada de tu ausencia, de tus mentiras, de tu paternidad, de tu existencia.

[boba-hijueputa]

No se encariñen conmigo, cada vez más próxima a mi suicidio.

[multishipper-baby]

En el tema de babies y esas cosas, me preguntó que sentirá Eze de todo eso, siendo que él no tiene ni pareja ni interés en formar una familia

[smileflowcr]

Ophe, ¿qué es lo que más te gusta de Dabin?

"¿Puedo decir que todo? ¡Dabin es el chico más dulce del mundo!" los vocablos están cargados de amor y siente una linda calidez crecer en su pecho. Al ser ambos extrovertidos y compartir el amor por las criaturas marinas, la amistad nació naturalmente, misma que entre salidas o cuidar a los pingüinos del acuario fue evolucionando. Ahora podía llamar a ese sentimiento amor. "Pero si tengo que elegir algo... lo adorable que luce cuando nuestros pequeños lo siguen como si fuese su papá, imitando los sonidos."

[malkaviian]

nada que ver pero me imaginé al pequeño damian en la escuela y que le den la clásica tarea de hacer un árbol genealógico y de inocente/por pensarla mucho termine preguntando "cuál de las dos tengo que poner??" confundiendo a sus compañeritos y maestra(??

[mikrokosmcs]

Daddyseong, ¿qué opina de pintarse la pela rosita? ¿qué tal andamos en su hombría frágil del 1 al 10?(?)

Suelta  una  carcajada  por  la  cuestión,  siendo  bastante  valida  teniendo  en  cuenta  del  ambiente  violento  en  el  que  se  desarrolló.  -  —No  creo  que  los  tintes  sean  solo  para  mujeres,  o  que  los  colores  tengan  un  género  —  -su  concepto  de  ser  un  hombre  era  distinto  al  que  se  inculcó  en  su  vida,  su  padre  siempre  durmiendo  con  mujeres  y  haciéndolo  pasar  su  primera  vez  con  una  mucho  más  mayor  que  él  solo  por  el  concepto  de  “poseer”  a  alguien  débil.  -  —Hombre,  mujer,  no  binario,  mientras  me  demuestre  que  tiene  capacidad  para  hacer  el  trabajo  que  le  corresponde,  me  da  igual  su  género.

[peaceeandcoolestvibes]

It’s PINK AND BLUE BITCHES

✨ son lo mejor q suena ✨

A mi me un chaval me baila así y ME MUERO

The bottom line? We care more about happy music than sad music,, it’s 2024 pls #WeDontWantSadMusicBcWeDontCare #EASILYFORGETTABLE

By the way, Kool and the gang are now in the rock and roll hall of fame PLS CONGRATS KINGS 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[femininelookingmale]

quién para hablar de que le tengo ganas al chaparro