#I think of them as that one aita post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charliemwrites · 4 months

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A Thought™️ that I had yesterday after watching those AITA videos and babbling in the discord:

(This is also babble to be clear. I’ve been writing this throughout the morning so it might be a bit incoherent)

The 141 is shopping for a new team member, someone to round out their four person squad into five. They have a dozen candidates, pick one that looks promising, and transfer him over under the military equivalent of “probationary” status.

Pretty quickly they decide his personality alone might not make him a good fit but whatever, if he’s good at his job, they’ll suck it up. The “alpha male” posturing bullshit is kind of amusing in the meantime at least.

Well, first mission comes and goes. The guy isn’t too bad, honestly — apart from almost picking a fight with Gaz. Skills-wise he’s as advertised, so he gets to stay a bit longer while the 141 decides if they can stand him.

Post successful mission, though, they go out for drinks at the guy’s insistence. He invites his girlfriend — who he dragged along with him — to the bar to meet his new squad. (Because he thinks there’s no way they’re not making him a permanent teammate.)

And the 141 may be barely tolerant of him, but they decide almost instantly that they adore his girlfriend. She’s incredibly charming and bubbly, doesn’t even blink at Ghost’s mask. One of the first things she does is thank them for the opportunity they’re giving her boyfriend and for keeping him alive.

Which is about the time the real issue starts.

The boyfriend says some rubbish about “an alpha doesn’t need protecting, he does the protecting. He looks out for his pack.”

And you smile a bit awkwardly, looking embarrassed, and try to usher the conversation along.

It doesn’t take long for him to quickly fall out of what little favor he accrued. You’re a bright spot in their group, laughing and chatting with them all like you’ve known them for years. Incredibly sensitive to asking any hard questions and sort of forcing the conversation through the weird patches where your boyfriend interjects with some inane comment.

Eventually, your boyfriend gets sick of your chattering and tells you to fetch them more drinks. Soap instantly sits up, saying you don’t have to do that, but you gently wave him off. Chirp that you don’t mind doing it as a thank you for their service, and weave into the crowd.

The table goes uncomfortable quiet — apart from your boyfriend, who makes some ghastly comment about how you have a pretty face but an annoying laugh. When you get back, drinks expertly balanced in your hands, Ghost goes out of his way to drop puns that get you giggling like mad.

As the night ticks later, and your boyfriend gets drunker, he reaches the point you always dread.

“Garrick, le’s arm wrestle.”

“Baby, I don’t think that’s…”

“This is between us men.”

You groan a bit and sit back. Gaz looks befuddled but shrugs and agrees. It’s not even a contest; your boyfriend’s arm is flat to the table in all of ten seconds. Flustered, your boyfriend demands a rematch. And when he loses again, scoffs and demands a go with Soap.

You practically sink deeper and deeper into your seat before the secondhand embarrassment starts to weigh and you have to excuse yourself to the restroom. When you get back, the impromptu arm wrestling seems to be over, though your boyfriend is sulking in his corner of the booth.

When you gingerly slide back in, Price nudges you with his calf.

“Would you like a go, luv?”

You grin and shake your head. “I don’t fancy a broken wrist, Captain.”

“C’mon luv, you might surprise yourself,” he teases and you can’t resist the playful glint in his eye.

So you lock your thumb around his, elbow on the table, and push. And his arm incrementally goes down… down… down…

“Well would you look at that,” he muses.

You burst into laughter, flattered and endeared by his indulgence.

“That tough, eh?” Soap muses, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see it, then.”

So you roll your eyes, fully expecting to get trounced. But just like with Price, he starts to relent when you put up resistance, making a show of straining and panting as he “loses.” When you’ve won, you finally play into the joke.

“Serves you right,” you tease.

By your side, you hear your boyfriend huff derisively. “Oh, come on.”

Before your fun can be ruined, though, Ghost is offering you his hand, dark eyes sparkling. You bite your lip, but it doesn’t hide your grin as you accept the unspoken challenge. His hand is huge around yours, but shockingly gentle. He goes down easiest of all, whistling in amazement.

“Look’it that, you’re a pro,” he says, “think we should all be buying you a drink.”

“She doesn’t drink,” your boyfriend interjects.

You huff and settle back into the booth. “Maybe some other time, Lieutenant Riley?”

“Count on it.”

You get into an argument with your boyfriend that night. He thinks you were “challenging his dominance” and “stirring the pot,” trying to sew discord and strife amongst the men to get them fighting over you. He says something about being the alpha of the group and that he would win but it’s insulting to him as your “provider” that you would question his authority.

He’s tipsy as he says it though, working himself up. You just follow the usual routine of soothing, reassuring, simpering — and then considering leaving when he’s finally asleep. But you’re far from home, don’t have the means to leave, and besides, you won’t be finding any support from your family on this front so…

Well, it’s not so bad, you remind yourself. He can be an asshole, but so can you and it takes two to fight. Besides, he only gets really bad when he’s been drinking and that’s only once a week? 1 out of 7 isn’t a bad ratio.

—

The 141 pretty much collectively decide that they adore you though. You get regularly invited to team outings, wherein your boyfriend keeps challenging (and losing) arm wrestling, while the boys coax you into “winning.”

They’ve also become rather adamant that you don’t bring them drinks anymore.

“You’re not our personal beer wench, yeah? We’re able to get our own pints,” Gaz soothes.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shakes his head, imparts his “wisdom” that it’s a female’s job to serve her man and his friends. As a sign of respect or something. You know it’s not an argument worth having and just sip at your drink in silence.

But you love going out with them. Love knowing the men keeping your boyfriend alive and they’re a good bunch. Respectful and funny and disciplined — you’re kind of hoping they snap your boyfriend out of this weird “alpha male” phase he’s been going through. On the other hand, you’re thrilled to be making something like friends. Sure, your boyfriend has made it clear that the 141 are his friends, but they’re always so conscious of keeping you involved and comfortable.

Then one night your boyfriend mentions what a “good little cook” you are and that instantly has all the boys perking up. Smiling, you offer to host during the Saturday League matches. They gleefully accept over your boyfriend’s protests about other men in his territory or something like that.

But when they do come over they’re horrified by the unspoken expectations. You tell them to sit, that you’ll bring them all drinks, with snacks on the way. They’ll be having none of it.

Ghost helps you with drinks, Gaz chops the veggies for snacks (and dinner). Soap pops in to keep you company while you babysit simmering pots. Price helps to tidy as you go, despite you’re fussing that he really doesn’t need to, he should be enjoying the games!

They end up spending more time with you in the kitchen than out in the den with their own teammate. You barely notice, swept up in the busy currents of playing hostess. When your boyfriend shouts that he needs another beer, you come back to find Price getting plates and utensils for dinner. It’s so thoughtful you could cry.

Even worse is when they help you clean up afterwards. Each of them taking and clearing their own plates. Soap on washing big dishes, Gaz on drying. Ghost is packing up leftovers. Price is turning over the dishwasher, asking you where dishes go and tutting when you insist you should be helping.

All the while, your boyfriend stands in the doorway telling you all the ways you could improve the meal next time. And how you definitely ate too much for your body size, etc.

He only stops when Price makes a pointed comment about standing around looking pretty.

When they leave, they each sweep you up in a hug and drop a kiss on your cheek, praising your home and cooking and hosting. Soap promises that he’ll get you a little souvenir on their next mission as a thank you.

And sure enough, three weeks later, the boys are coming by. Except your boyfriend is nowhere to be found — out with some other guys from the base that he says he hit it off with. The 141 insist that he agreed to a football watch again, the empty headed muppet.

And of course you’re not going to turn them away! They’ve brought you flowers, a little matryoshka set from their last mission, chocolates and wine. Not one of them is empty handed.

“Do you even like the game?” Gaz asks as you put it on.

“My favorite team isn’t playing until tomorrow but I don’t mind watching,” you answer, shrugging.

But somehow no football is watched at all. Instead they convince you to tell them your top three favorite movies, then claim none of them have ever seen any of them and they have to watch all of them.

Which is how your boyfriend finds his whole team enjoying a little movie marathon with you. You’re on the ground with Johnny (it’s Johnny now, for you) doing his eyebrows. Gaz is braiding your hair. Ghost (Simon) is sharing a bowl of candies with you. You’re sat against Price’s shins, the captain sitting in your boyfriend’s chair, lounging like a king.

When you welcome him back, telling him the boys are staying the night, he tries to throw a fit about it. How dare you let four strange men stay alone with you?! You calmly remind him that he promised he’d be home by 11 and it’s already nearly 1. And besides, he trusts them with his life, you’re allowed to trust them to be polite in your own home.

With all four of his teammates watching, tense and nearly hostile, he mutters something about being tired and storms off to bed. You end up falling asleep on the couch with ghost despite yourself.

And your boyfriend becomes absolutely haunted by his team’s (is it even his team? It feels more like yours!) affection for you.

They always invite you out even if he doesn’t plan to invite you. (When did you get any of their numbers?! Never mind Ghost’s. He doesn’t even have Ghost’s number.)

They stop by the flat constantly, sometimes dropping in. Other times staying for hours. Soap tells him that they’re all one big family; that includes you. (“Alright then why don’t we go hang out with one of your girlfriends?!” He had an actual nightmare about the laughter that gets him.)

And the fucking gifts. It’s not just soap bringing you things anymore. It’s all of them. Magnets, mugs, sweets, pretty rocks. Just garbage to your boyfriend but you treat it all like treasure. They’ve even got you sending them on hunts for specific things. Something blue, something with nuts, something with the flag.

Then there’s the base.

They bring you on one day — Price picks you up, the boys greet you at the barracks with coffee and breakfast. You’re put into a big 141 hoodie that says “Riley” on the back and toured around. You’re supposed to be “surprising” your boyfriend, but he’s busy with recruits and generally seems uninterested in being around you.

Not to worry though, the 141 is happy to show you a good time around base! Gaz and Johnny walk you through one of the obstacle courses, Simon lets you sit on his back for pushups during the last of his workout. Price takes you to the range and shows you the basics of shooting, then lets you catnap through the adrenaline drop in his office.

Your boyfriend only bothers to find you when Johnny and Simon are teaching you basic self-defense. Your boyfriend scoffs that you’re plenty protected by him, but you point out that he’s away too often to be of any real help — at which point Johnny tags you and bolts before your boyfriend can get all up in arms.

You only recognize that this little hurdle in your relationship has become a chasm when something happens. A big argument with your parents over the phone — you barely even remember what about. But instead of calling your boyfriend afterwards, your first call is to Gaz. (Because you know he’s the most likely to be free and paying attention to his phone.) You’re almost shocked when he picks up on the second ring. Your boyfriend has never answered on the first call.

When you try to explain through poorly-restrained tears, he coos at you to find a warm coffee shop and that they’ll be right there. “They” ends up being him and Johnny, since Simon and Price are locked up in an important meeting. They buy you hot chocolate and pastries while you vent to them, and end up leaving feeling better for once.

But you can’t break up with your boyfriend. Because if you do, the 141 will surely stop hanging out with you, and you value their company enough to put up with it.

At least until you come home one day to find all your little gifts gone. When you ask through a tight throat where everything is, your boyfriend says he was just making space. That you’ve been complaining that you two need a bigger flat, but now he’s solved the problem without wasting money.

You actually raise your voice for once, throwing an entire fit because this. This is the last straw. You storm into your bedroom, slam and lock the door, and call the 141.

A small part of you expects they’ll take his side or something. But nope. Simon soothes you on the other end, that the whole squad will be there in fifteen and to pack your stuff.

You do so while Price takes over and keeps you level. Reminds you of essentials to pack and explains that you’ll be coming to stay at his place, since he’s got off-base housing. It’ll be quiet and cozy and safe while you recover.

Five minutes away, they promise to be right there and end the call.

You could absolutely scream when your boyfriend — ex boyfriend — starts banging on the door. Demanding that you open the door to him. That you’re being over dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. Using the “your emotional and irrational” line that you’ve heard a thousand times and are just about sick of.

Your heart stutters with relief when you hear the knocking at the apartment door, confused silence as your ex goes to see who it is. You take that moment to slip out, packed suitcase in hand.

You startle a bit at some commotion, round the corner to see your ex’s shirt bunched up in Johnny’s fists, looking ready kill him. No one seems inclined to pull him away; neither are you.

“How are you holding up, luv?” Gaz asks gently as Simon takes your bag.

“Been better,” you admit, sniffling as Price wraps you up in a hug.

“It was just things, luv,” he soothes, “we’ll get you a million more, if you like.”

You pull back to give him a miserable look. “But they were my things and they didn’t have to go anywhere. He just threw them out.”

Johnny snarls something out, but Gaz is already ushering you out the door. You tell your family about the break up through text and then shut off your phone, bundled into the backseat of an SUV with Gaz in the backseat. Price is in the front, all of you waiting for Simon and Johnny to come down.

“What now?” you ask quietly.

“Well, about time we cut that knob loose,” Price muses. “But that’s not your problem anymore.”

“Oh…

“And you, luv.” He looks at you through the rear view. “You get whatever you want.”

#cod #thoughts™️#my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #polycule #poly 141 #misters steal your girl #get it? misters plural. because they all steal that girl

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hmslusitania · 2 months

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Eddie stares at the screen. It’s not — the title is…

Well.

Fuck.

He’s read enough of the Reddit thread in question to know that he’s phrasing it right but he doesn’t—

It feels bad to post something that starts with “AITA my [32M] best friend [32M] just started dating someone new and for the first time since I’ve known him its a guy [39M]. Every time I think about them together it makes me want to puke and/or die and/or punch somebody. I’ve never thought I was homophobic before. One of my closest friends at work (and our workplace is like a family in the most literal aside from blood sense) is a lesbian and I have a regular wine night with her wife and we’ve never had an issue!”

But like. He doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t exactly ask Buck about it. And he’s not going to text Hen or Karen to ask them to delve into their deeper analyses of his psyche and whether or not they’ve secretly picked up “”””signs”””” that he’s homophobic. If they have? He doesn’t want to know. Because he’s not a homophobe! He isn’t! Really truly!!

At least he’s never been before when it was Hen and Karen and Michael and David and people he'd met on calls and even Josh (his issues with Josh had been 1,000% unrelated to Josh’s sexuality). But for whatever reason, Buck and Tommy dating — Buck and Tommy kissing — Buck and Tommy having sex and—

He loses the plot in favour of unidentifiable rage.

He makes the Reddit post.

He is primarily asked for additional context.

“Well. Uh. Let’s call him Stag. Has been my best friend since we defused a bomb together I don’t even know like five years ago? And he’s like the best friend I’ve ever had to the point where I’ve changed my will so that he’s the person who gets my son in the event of my untimely demise. And like! I like his boyfriend! I really do, it’s not that I’m worried that if something happens to me and Stag has to take custody of our son I’m worried about how [let’s call him Gatling] would do with our kid. He’s a cool guy and tbh we were friends first and he’d probably make a wicked stepdad to anyone’s kid, but also… okay it got late and I don’t think this is an accurate representation of the situation but! Anyway! Additional information of note being that I like both of them as people a whole bunch so the idea that I might be activating latent homophobic responses just because of either of them as people is nonsense haha.”

And he isn’t! Eddie isn’t worried about how Tommy would be as a stepdad. Really! It doesn’t even give him hives to think about dying anymore.

It takes until he wakes up in a cold sweat at three in the morning for him to realise that he doesn’t think of Buck as Chris’s stepdad. He thinks of him as Chris’s other dad, who is — who is dating someone a whole lot like Eddie — who is dating another man who isn’t Eddie — and…

And, well.

Well, fuck.

“Edit: false alarm I am not homophobic. But I AM in love with, uh, Stag even though he’s dating Gatling. How do I tell him?”

Because sometimes, asking relationship advice from complete strangers online is the only reasonable way to proceed. And Eddie can only hope, desperately, that they have the answers.

#its late I’m exhausted I haven’t written 9-1-1 fic in 2.5 years #9-1-1 #buddie #the ghost ship scribbles

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virgincels · 20 days

Text

r/AmItheAsshole

u/bwckennedy77 ・ 15h

AITA for having sexual relations with a girl that looks like my daughter?

Asshole

(tags - daddy daughter incest, facial, oral sex, some coercion, bad writing bc i’m tired and can’t execute the idea properly, be nice and don’t look at any mistakes!! leon small dick ik but he’s big for my sake here.)

Hi Reddit! New to this thing, first post got taken down, I can’t imagine why. Now, to cut to the chase, my wife left me this year a little after our daughter (20) moved out. Our marriage (M47, F46) had been strained for a couple years prior so I understand why she ended things. I’m stretched thin with an intensive job that requires me to be away for days and weeks at a time. I thought she would get it considering it is related to the military/government, but I guess all those missed birthdays really got to her! I have no qualms with this and totally understand her reasoning haha.

I don’t get the time to go on dates because of work like I said before and I really don’t have the energy to go on them anyway. I have a bit of a drinking problem if I’m completely honest which is where my actual story starts I guess.

I was at a bar and I don’t usually attempt to pick up girls but sometimes they come onto me I don’t think I have the worst face in the world, some call it easy on the eyes. Long story short this girl comes up to me she’s pretty young, I don’t usually go for younger girls. I mean I don’t go for any girls at all because I was married up until recently obviously haha, but I’m not one to say no so I took her back to my place.

Chick got super freaked out and started getting her things when I bent her over in the bedroom. Thought it was just reality hitting her or some shit. She was calling me a creep and she left as my daughter let herself in, she’s back in town and only just arrived at that moment.

They looked at each other and it hit me. They looked the same. That chick saw the photo I have of my daughter on the cabinet and flipped. The chick leaves and my daughter gets super mad at me starts calling me names and she went up to her room and she won’t speak to me now. Didn’t think that it was that big of a deal you know? Don’t really know what I did wrong since it wasn’t intentional or anything but with the way she’s acting I just feel like a dick so AITA?

⇧ 52478 | ⇩ 💬 27821

Killer_RedQueen79 ・ 14h・ Supreme Court Just-Ass [124]

I hope to fucking god this is not you Leon.

bwckennedy77 OP・ 11h

I don’t know any Leon’s sorry

DuckieUnderWater ・ 13h ・ Partassipant [2]

Dude why the whole fucking life story. Title alone was enough for me to know that YTA and a fucking creep.

bwckennedy77 OP ・ 2h

I think you’re all taking this out of context! I didn’t want her because she looks like my daughter, I’m just easy!

NeonGenesis738 ・ 12h ・Asshole Enthusiast [6]

first post got taken down, I can’t imagine why

I could name a few fucking reasons why you sick fuck. YTA. She should call the cops and go non contact.

bwckennedy77 OP ・ 5h

I am a super cop buddy! Very high rank!!!

NeonGenesis738 ・ 2h ・Asshole Enthusiast [6]

Of course you fucking are

YTA, YTA, YTA, YTA, YTA.

Leon scoffs, reading glasses slipping down the slant of his nose as he squints at his screen. He is not the fucking asshole here. No one is. You’re just a bit of a drama queen. Just like your ma, but you haven’t quite reached the levels of hysteria that Leon has managed in his day to day life.

Man, there’s never a clean slate. Just more and more shit piled on top of shit and more shit—Enough to break the ozone layer or whatever it is that’s going on in this little world. The other problems that he can’t save it from.

It has been two meandering days since you’ve talked to him, you move like a ghoul in the night to avoid a one on one Family Meeting that Leon has been itching to suggest. Reddit, as Claire suggested - not for this occasion, but for when he generally needs a variety of opinions - is unhelpful. Reddit is a crowd that wields its pitchforks at anything that passes by.

Like, seriously, it’s not like Leon picked her out of the crowd, he didn’t sit there waiting for her to show up—Well, he did let down the shortstack that approached him first, and the blonde with the hollow face, and the dude who bought him a drink. They just didn’t tickle his fancy and that’s alright. Can’t help having a type, and to clarify that type is not his daughter.

Divorce is tough, alright? Leon’s always looking for a friendly face, hers probably came with all those memories of you attached and he subconsciously picked her out. Fuckin’ made him release endorphins or some shit. And she was cute. Because you’re cute. Not in a weird way, just subjectively, you’re a cute girl with a nice body you can owe to him. Christ, it all sounds so wrong when he puts it into perspective, but that was never his intention.

He fucked his wife whenever he could get it up, he fucked her for a long fucking time for a number of years. Leon wouldn’t fuck a woman he finds ugly, he found her pretty hot, actually, and it just so happens that you look like your ma. So, you’re a good-looking kid—Not in a weird way. Never in a weird way.

That’s how it works, isn’t it? Kids look like their parents and parents can admire that and it doesn’t mean they want to fuck them.

But that girl was—She was hot, god damn it. He had her tits in his hands, squeezing them so tight she squealed, pushing them up and down, slapping them left and right, fat spilling past the gaps in his fingers. And so what if Leon thought that they looked like yours.

Maybe he thought about that time at the beach, when your string bikini did exactly what good string bikinis do - come undone.

(He had lowered his sunglasses and looked right at you.)

Maybe about that time you needed a towel and Leon took a peek at your body through the steamed glass when he tossed one over the shower door.

(“My eyes are closed, sweetheart!” He had promised while staring at you very open-eyed.)

Or when he sent you off to bed with a smack on the ass ‘cause he just wasn’t thinking too hard, Leon hardly ever thinks at all. He played it off as sportsmanship or whatever. Game got him amped up.

(You look like your mom from behind, he couldn’t help himself, it was an impulse—It was only natural.)

Leon has the bright idea to pass the time by watching porn, because honestly he’s been pent up since it happened. First time his dick kicked in weeks and she walked out on him all ‘cause she looked a little like his daughter. Weak. Freud never mentioned anything about this—Not that Leon knows much about that guy, nothing at all actually, but from what he’s heard, no dads crushing on daughters have ever been mentioned. Or maybe he's got reading to do.

Porn is usually a quick and easy fix. It is for everybody. Not Leon though, he’s gotta search hard for shit he likes, it’s not on the front page and it takes him forever to find one that’s suitable. Some of ‘em have too much dick, some of the positions just look painful, some of these clits aren’t being touched, and some of these girls are just plain ugly.

Then he finds one, she’s real cute, that’s all. Nothing is familiar about her eyes and nose and lips and body and hair. Not the way she smiles over her shoulder at him. Nothing at all.

He falls asleep with the tab open and a hand down his pants.

To avoid detection, you creep around the house when it’s lights out. Dad wakes up easily, military training and whatnot. So you’ve gotten used to this, sneaking leftovers from the fridge past midnight, watching the TV on silent, squinting to read the subtitles.

He didn’t mean it. You think. You hope. Leon is so… So harmless. Your dad is sweet and a little stupid, he’s kind and clueless and all of the things most dads are. He buys you an abundance of apples when you tell him you like apples, he throws out the oranges when you tell him you don’t like them ‘cause they make your hands smell funny. He stands on the porch watching the clouds, he sleeps alone in his king sized bed and hugs his pillow tight. He keeps his wedding ring on his bedside cabinet next to a picture of you

But that was weird. Seriously, you thought he put a mirror in the hall for a minute. Or that you were in some strange dreamscape. Or in a coma. Or all of the above.

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he just brushed you off like it meant nothing. Like that girl wasn’t your long lost twin, a sister he and your mom put up for adoption twenty years ago. So, yeah, you got a little pissy at him. ‘Cause it’s nothing to act nonchalant about.

Okay, and what if this is a little bit of a projection.

You got mad at him, real mad, ‘cause maybe you were a little jealous and maybe you like knowing that your dad is single and not fucking—Maybe you think about that time you went to the sauna together, all that sweat, beading along the firm lines of his abdomen, dripping down and down and down and melting into the fabric of his white towel. Maybe you wanted to see what was under there. Maybe you mix up the laundry on purpose, make it so he can’t find a nice shirt to wear and he gives up and does without one all together.

Maybe you do all those things. Maybe you don’t want to be a bad person, and the guilt outweighs your desires.

Or maybe you are just a very regular girl behaving in very regular ways to the sight of your dad fucking your lookalike. Maybe it’s that. God, please be that.

You wander into his room with a very dire problem. There’s a spider in the shower, and maybe you're ready for that Family Meeting now.

He’s sleeping, the blue light of his laptop casts a glow on his face, head tipped back, lips parted as he snores loudly. You almost don’t catch it. Then, when you go to shake him awake gently, you take a good look at his screen and find the weight of the world is not enough to support the wave of anger that rips through you, a tsunami tearing a nation in half.

No fucking way. No fucking way. No fucking way!

He’s watching porn, whatever, he can do that. Your dad is a grown man, and while you don’t exactly want to know about his tastes, you sorta had him figured out. The kind of man who watches corny studio porn with unwet pussy and dicks so big they shouldn’t be allowed within 10 feet of a vagina.

The girl on the screen—She looks like you. Albeit a little plastic in the way most professional pornstars are. Too-firm tits, filler migrating into the space above her lips, it hurts for her to smile and—Well, none of this fucking matters because she looks like you and your dad is watching her take two dicks in one hole.

And wow. She’s taking them well. Really… Really well. This isn’t so bad, you salute his taste a little more—Oh, wow, that guy is kind of… You recognise him, something about his face is familiar.

You press rewind.

It starts cheesy and devolves into something cheesier. It starts dirty and it ends with a dick in her pussy and one in her mouth, they might end up meeting in the middle, kiss tips in her guts.

It’s the loud one—The one that says all the dirty shit and spits in her mouth and slaps her tits and knocks her around—He looks like dad.

Mainly from the side, the straight edge of his nose, the way his eyes crease when he smiles down at her all mean.

(You skip anytime he faces the camera head on.)

“You’re really enjoying that, huh?”

“Jesus Christ—“ You jolt and knock your head against the headboard. “Dad!”

“Baby!”

“You scared me,” you say, elbowing him in the gut as he sits up, “I wasn’t—Why’re you watching this?”

“What? I can’t watch porn in my room now?” Leon pauses the video, he’s not upset, amused but not upset.

“No—I mean you can, do whatever you want, but why is it… She looks like…” You wave your hand at the screen like it’s a hologram and it’ll go if you wave it away. It’ll flicker if you stare at it long and hard enough.

“Like what, sweetheart?” He drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulls you into his chest as you stammer like a fucking idiot. “Go on, you’re a big girl.”

“Let go of me,” you tell him weakly, a shoddy attempt at sounding horrified. Like you should when you’re caught watching porn—Your dad’s porn nonetheless.

“No, that’s not what it is, baby, answer my question.” He holds you in place, hand running up and down your side, rubbing circles into the fat of your hip. “Who does she look like?”

“Like… Like no one.”

“No, I don’t think that’s right, c’mon, I’ll give you one more chance, baby.” Leon’s fingers are cool on your skin, slipping under the hem of your shirt and settling on your waist. “Who does she look like?”

You turn your head, but he catches your chin and forces you to stare at the screen, right into her face—Your face. “Like me…”

“See, baby?” He kisses your forehead like he has a million times before. “Knew you could do it, my good girl,” he says like he does after you ace your tests, when you learnt how to ride a bike, and now he’ll say it while you learn to work his dick. “And who does he look like?”

“…Like you, dad.”

“Well done, baby,” he coos, kissing your jaw, “you’re so smart, aren’t you, baby?”

“Stop it—“ Your body catches alight when his hands slide upwards, taking your tits into his hands and squeezing so tight they might pop. “Stop it, dad—I don’t…”

What if, and this is a big what if, what if you get pregnant and the punnett square is one-by-one—It’s a punnet rectangle at that point.

What if your mom finds out?

What if you like it?

That’s the worst part of it all - you will like it.

You’ve wanted this—You can’t even keep up the lie anymore. You’ve wanted him for so long you couldn’t hold back a smile at court, when they signed those papers and when mom moved out you kept smiling. Fuck. What is wrong with you?

“You liked that didn’t you?” Dad says in your ear, his breath is hot and he smells like soap and sweat. His stubble tickles your skin when he presses a wet kiss to your neck. “Bet it got your little pussy all wet.”

“No it didn’t.” You try to level yourself, taking a shuddering breath when his hand dips past your navel to toy with the bow that lines the middle of your waistband.

“Okay, prove it.”

“How am I meant to prove that, dad?” You click your tongue, lay the annoyance act on thick, but make no attempt to leave.

“You gotta show me, baby.” He flicks your forehead with his free hand, the other cups your mound. “Can feel you already.”

“Then I guess I don’t need to show you,” you breathe out, placing your trembling hand on the arm that’s wrapped around you while his fingers run up and down your clothed slit.

“Nah, think I need to know for sure.” Leon’s teeth nip at your ear lobe, tugging lightly as he pulls your panties taut to your cunt, a makeshift g-string, caught between your pussy lips. “So fat, baby, whatcha been feeding her?” Your dick. Your dick. God, please, feed it your dick. He pinches your cunt, pushing your lips together and your clit throbs so hard you think it might burst.

“Dad,” you gasp, back going ramrod straight as the fabric rubs up against your swollen clit. “Don’t say that—So weird, you’re so weird, actual fucking weirdo.”

“Look at you.” His shirt slips from your shoulder as you rut your hips up, his grip on the waistband tightens, bunches up even further, pushing against your clit so hard it might split in half. “Dirty little girl, why you doin’ that?” You feel dad’s smile on your neck.

“‘Cause…” You grab at his arm, pushing your face into his bicep to muffle an embarrassing whine and it’s so fucking big. Muscle cushioned by a layer of fat, when you dig your fingers into it, his skin dimples.

“‘Cause..?” Leon taps your clit, lets go of your panties to let your pussy breathe. “I’m waiting, baby.”

“Feels good, dad,” you whimper, hanging your head in shame, pressing your nose into the crease of his elbow as he slides your panties to the side.

“I know, baby, you can’t help yourself, can you?” Dad drags a finger along your slippery slit, pussy clicking wetly when he dips a finger inside your tight hole. “Think daddy spoiled you too much.”

“Not… Not true…” You stifle another noise into his bicep, suckling on his skin to taste it.

After this is all said and done, you might have to leave and never look back. You might have to emancipate yourself so you can marry him, take back your last name and pretend it was never yours to begin with.

Slowly, Leon rubs figure eights into your twitching clit, you grind into him, ears burning at the squelch of your drippy cunt—He isn’t even in your hole, he’s just playing with your clit and you’re making a mess, pussy all sloppy and noisy.

When you cum, it’s a gradual burn that washes over you like waves lapping at your ankles. Your toes curl and there’s a strangled noise in your throat as your pussy drips slick into the cupped palm of his hand.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Leon coos, “that’s what you needed, hm?”

You rock your hips into his hand as your high melts away, leaving half-guilt and half-regret and a wet pussy that’s perfect for fucking.

Dad lays you down, he still keeps mom’s perfume, he still sprays it on the bed sheets. It's the first thing you smell when your head hits the pillow with a soft thump. This is the bed you were made in, it’s the bed you slept in on sick days and nights when thunder was particularly loud. It’s the bed you slept in when dad was away and you and mom only had each for warmth.

What are you doing?

Well, you’re lifting your hips in the air so dad can take your panties off. Then you’re spreading your legs as far as they go so he gets a clear view of your pussy, glistening under the dimmed bulb, slick coating your puffy lips and drying on your inner thighs.

His sweats are lowered, cock springing up and smacking his abdomen, the tip drips and drizzles him in honey. Oh, god—It’s like big? You didn’t expect that, actually. You’d like to say you haven’t thought of it all, but you have and you do often.

“Think you can take it, baby?” Leon asks, tapping the fat head on your bud. Heart to heart, tip to clit. “Or does daddy need to eat your pussy?”

“I can take it, dad…” You nod, giving an earnest nod of your head and sizing up his cock, doing some mental mathematics as you try to calculate how many inches deep your pussy is and how big that fucking dick is. Although… You want his mouth on you—But that cock is more important right now.

“Atta girl.” He never pushes it in. You ache and shiver with each drag of his cock along your pussy, it bumps your clit and your whole body jolts.

For a moment, your mind and body disconnect, you’re watching a terribly taboo porn video and taking gross amounts of pleasure in it—Living out your fantasy through the bodies of others because it’s the closest you’ll ever get. But this is very much real and it is very much wrong.

When dad slides in, the fat head of his dick breaching your walls, the second he bottoms out, your pussy forces him back out as you cum for a second time, fucking gushing from the weight of his dick bumping into your cervix.

“Oh, baby, is it too much for you?” Sweetly, Leon presses a kiss between your tits as your chest heaves. “Is your pussy too little, daddy can try again another day, sweetheart.” He’s winding you up.

“Noo—Dad, please, ‘m want it so bad, please,” you beg incoherently, cunt dripping with your release.

“Okay, baby,” he abides, pressing the tip to your hole and pushing into you inch by inch. Being torn in half has never felt so good. “Only ‘cause I love you, my spoiled girl, huh?”

“Oh, fuck,” you sob, fat tears catching on your lower lashes as he stretches you out, “dad—daddy!”

“I know, baby, daddy’s right here,” Leon hums, he lowers his face to press into your tits, taking a peaked nipple into his mouth and popping off to suck on the other. Then he fucking motorboats you. Because of course he does.

You cry out, pushing at his head. “That’s so embarrassing, dad!” You manage to tell him through each of his mean thrusts, poking at your cervix like he’s trying to fuck your guts.

“‘S not, baby, dad just thinks your tits are real cute.” He pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulls until you squeal, smacking a fist against his chest.

Each drag of his dick inside of you is like—Gosh, you don’t know, it’s like heaven on earth or whatever the best feeling in this godforsaken place is. The smell of dew in the morning, a can of soda with a burger, the scent of cinnamon apple candles during Christmas time. It’s his dick rabbiting into your pussy with enough force to fuel a fucking rocket ship.

The schlick of your pussy goes unheard as his balls slap against your ass, and you dig your nails into his to push him deeper, it’s so fucking soft—Why is his ass so soft?

“So little, baby.” Dad pouts down at you, one big hand on your tit and the other cups your cheek. “Daddy can’t even fit inside.”

You squeeze down on him, and your greedy cunt sucks his dick in to the best of your abilities, but there’s still an inch or two that you can’t possibly fit. The base of his cock is coated in a milky white ring, it drips down his balls and—God, you’re about to cum again. His thumb finds your clit, and thank god it does. You cum so hard you see stars and all of Saturn’s moons.

“Aw, baby, you needed that.” Dad continues to hump into your cunt, his furrowed brow and the puff of his breath on your face is almost too much for you to handle. “My baby, always mouthin’ off at me, you just needed some dick, didn’t you? Jus’ needed dad to play with this spoiled little cunt, hm?”

“Mhm…” You nod because what else are you meant to do? Say no? The man is right.

He pulls out and you whine, pussy gripping him so tight Leon groans as hm the head pops out with a lewd, wet sound. “C’mere, baby, come on.” He urges you to sit up, so you do, using your elbows to push up as you’re met face to face with his fat cock.

Leon smears the tip on your lips, and you swear to god you’d finish off a cute lip combo with his pre. You take the head into your mouth and suck on it, it’s velvety under your tongue, you wrap a hand around his shaft to make up for what you can’t suck. It’s uncut on the fat, skin folding and creasing each time you pump him, peeking out from underneath the hood so you can tongue his slit. He tastes like your pussy and something muskier.

He groans all deep and nice and smooth, low in his throat, makes your pussy tingle. You jerk his wet cock off, mouthing along the base of his cock until you suck on his sac, slurping and smacking like you oughta do for a dick like this. His balls plap, plap, plap against your hand and they tighten before he cums, thick sticky seed spilling from the tip like the slow trickle of honey. It paints your face white, dribbling down your cheeks and chin to stain your tits.

“Put those cute glasses on next time, baby.” Leon kisses your mouth, licking into it and tasting his salty cum. “The ones you wear to class.”

Dazed, guilty and giddy all at once, you look up at him with a frown. “Why?”

“‘Cause I wanna cum on them, stupid.” He flicks your forehead again, sends you out of his room with a hard smack on the ass.

“Wait, dad!” You hold onto him before Leon makes you leave.

“Hm?” He strokes your head as you pout up at him, softening so easily. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“There’s a spider in the shower, can you get rid of it?”

“No,” he scoffs, “get outta here, ‘s all you use me for.”

“Dad!” You whine, latching onto him, “daddy, please, it’s so big! Please, we can… We can do it together, um, shower together not—not kill the spider together.”

Leon grumbles the entire time, he squashes it with a tissue and flushes it down the toilet, but any qualms are washed away by the hot water and your plush tits pressing to his chest as you stand facing him.

You could get used to this. You shouldn’t, but you will.

r/AmItheAsshole

u/bwckennedy77 ・ 1m

AITA for fucking my daughter?

#dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you

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alexias-putellas · 1 month

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centre of attention // a.bonmatí x reader

a.bonmatí x reader

based on this request! wanted to get something out for you guys so voila. not proofread as per usual

despite being named as one of the greatest of your generation, you were incredibly humble. you always credited others before yourself, always mentioning the person who gave the assist whenever asked about a goal you scored in post match interviews.

most people assumed it was because of how genuinely nice of a person you were and how much you adored your teammates, which was true, but really it was because you absolutely loathed being the centre of attention and this fact was known by your club and country teammates—who made it their mission to tease you about it to no end.

your girlfriend however never took part in it so you were thankful that you had at least one person on your side. of course she poked a little bit of fun at your shyness but aitana knew when to stop.

so when you walked up to take a corner during a game, booted it with all your might and accidentally curled it straight into the top corner securing your hattrick, you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up.

but that couldn’t happen so you plastered a smile onto your face and approached your celebrating teammates. their grins almost made you scowl and you took their congratulatory comments in jest, knowing that they were holding back until after the game.

“buen trabajo.” aitana whispered to you and the smile that grew on your face was a genuine one.

“gracias, my love.”

barcelona won the game and since you were subbed off not long after the corner, you were wrapped up in a big puffer jacket as you made your way back onto the pitch. you headed straight for your girlfriend, throwing your arms around her.

“here she is!” lucy shouted before her arms were around your waist and she lifted you up. “little miss hattrick!”

“oh my god! lucia roberta, put me down now!” you hissed loudly, your face growing warmer with every laughing teammate you passed.

as soon as your feet touched the ground again, you shot straight over to aitana, tucking yourself into her side whilst glaring at lucy.

“i think you are wanted over there cariño.” aitana pointed over her shoulder and you groaned.

“oh, aita, no! don’t make me go over there.”

your girlfriend giggled before gently pushing you in the direction of the interviewer. you greeted her politely and took the outstretched microphone.

“what a game that was!” she said and you nodded in agreement. “barcelona have been unstoppable this season, it’s incredible.”

“i know. the girls have been amazing, it’s such an honour to play alongside them all. we’re having so much at the moment with each other and with the fans and we can’t wait to get more results like this for them.”

“before we do anything else, we have to talk about the hattrick, right? we have to.”

you felt your face heat up and smiled shyly. “i don’t think we have to–“

“of course we do!” the interviewer laughed as you scrunched up your nose. “oh we have another guest!”

you made a noise of confusion before looking over your shoulder, beaming at an approaching aitana. she smiled and stood next to you, holding something out.

“for you,” she said and you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at her hands. “player of the match!”

you rolled your eyes fondly but took it from her hands, feeling the heat on your face worsen. the far sound of your teammates cheering had you hiding in the collar of your coat and the interviewer was laughing again. “well deserved if you ask me.”

“exactly,” aitana agreed, throwing her arm over your shoulder. “nobody else scored a hattrick, did they? and did you see that last goal? asombrosa, tan asombrosa.”

you didn’t think it was possible for your face to get any hotter than it already was as aitana praised you. taking a peek, you scowled as she grinned at you.

“and she had two assists,” your girlfriend continued and you silently prayed for the ground to swallow you up. “two assists, three goals, and she was all over the pitch. we can talk about that corner goal again if you want.”

you shook your head frantically as aitana laughed, feeling utterly grateful when the interviewer spoke up again. “well it was lovely to speak with you ladies. congratulations on a great win and we’ll let you celebrate now.”

“gracias, gracias,” you spluttered out, waving quickly before shooting out of the cameras view. aitana was quick to follow after saying her own goodbye and you were quick to shove her away. “i should kill you with this aita!”

“but you won’t amor.”

“i should,” you muttered, glaring at her halfheartedly. “but you’re right. i won’t.”

aitana smiled and wrapped her arm around you again, pulling you into her side. “you know you are really cute when you are shy.”

“cállate or i really will kill you with this.”

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #aitana bonmatí #aitana bonmati imagine #aitana bonmati x reader

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ackermans-angel · 5 months

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BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND!GOJO SATORU | FIC RECS

A/N: Been obsessed with the Brother's Best Friend trope recently, specifically regarding Satoru, and I really wanted to share my favorite fics created by the amazing writers listed below. ALSO I wanted to do this because I haven't made one of these recommendation lists in awhile, and I love to do them number one to help promote the writers I love, and number two because when I find a trope I love with a character I wish I had a list like this to just find fics instantly LMAOOO. PLEASE feel free to recommend me your favorite brother's best friend fics if you know anymore and FEEL FREE to send me an ask at anytime if you're searching for fics of a certain trope I'd be happy to make more lists. Now enough of my yapping, I got ahead of myself and I'm posting this now but I'll update as I find more fics.

WARNING: I WON’T BE MORE CLEAR ON THIS! If you proceed to these accounts make sure to look at the rules and warnings. please respect the account owner, as most of them don’t want people under 18 on them. ALWAYS READ WARNINGS ON FICS TO INSURE YOU ARE RESPECTING THE WRITERS GUIDELINES!!!

One more thing! IF YOU LIKE A FIC PLEASE REBLOG NO MATTER THE ACCOUNT! The easiest way to show a creator you care and that their work is being appreciated is to reblog reblog reblog! They spend hours of their time creating work FOR US. The least we can do is REBLOG!

accounts under the cut. (last updated January 4th, 2024.)

IF IT’S ONLY A TOUCH…AITA? by @tteokdoroki This one is so good and the most recent one I read. It's the perfect amount of angst and smut. It does have some descriptions of the reader having braids, darker skin, and brown eyes so if you don't like when it's not vague about how the reader looks then this is probably not for you. However, those descriptions do not match me at all and I didn't have a problem while reading at all. I think you should definitely give it a read if you like the brother best friend trope!

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND by @cptnleviackerman This one was so good for it only having so few notes. definitely go hype this one up because it deserves it. Read the tags before you continue on though because some of the themes could be triggering! Other then that this one was super good.

HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO FUCK YOUR BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND? (FOUR WHOLE DAYS) by @saetoru SOOO GOOD. I love this fic so please go check this one out!

CRYBABY. by @ieirism AHHHH I FORGOT ABOUT THIS ONE. This one was soooooo goood. It is really fluffy and has so much sweet satoru. love love love.

TELL ME YOU DON'T WANT ME by @awearywritersworld I completely forgot about this one but from what I can remember it was really sweet. All angst and fluff and omg their dynamic after sugurus death is just so sweet.

YOUNGER BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND GOJO by @satocidal this is just a little drabble but the smut>>>>> that's all I have to say. go read!!

#gojo satoru #brother's best friend!Gojo Satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x you #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu satoru #jjk x reader #satoru smut #satoru fluff #satoru angst

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formosusiniquis · 5 months

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Modern au stobin are constantly getting posted about in aita. Until they find forever romantic partners they are the platonic m/f friends getting posts made about them.

My (25F) girlfriend (24) insists she can't go to sleep unless she talks to her 'emotional support dingus' (25M) for at least an hour. She says there's nothing going on between them but I think it's unreasonable that she has to spend that much time talking to a guy when I'm her partner, aita?

Or: My (26F) partner (25M) wants to take his "platonic soulmate" (24F) to a work party that I can't go to. He says they've always worked the same job before this, and she's always been his plus one, but I think it looks weird to bring a girl you aren't dating and "aren't interested in" to a party where you're meant to introduce your life partners to your coworkers, aita for saying this is a deal breaker.

And then the comment sections are basically the typical reddit cesspool of men and women can't be friends rhetoric. But eventually they get posted about enough that they start to become recognizable. People will post asking, OP are you in X city you might be dating the guy from this post this is a pattern for them. They're the kinds of posts that get screenshot and sent around on Twitter and the party absolutely send them to stobin so they know it's time to dump the partner that doesn't trust them or respect their other relationships.

#steve and robin #platonic stobin

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ramonathinks · 7 months

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AITA for telling my best friend the only want for me to forgive him after i found him smelling my underwear is by eating me out? — REINER BRAUN

note: i couldn’t think of a title ?? lol so i might change it at some point idk but since @honeybleed wanted me to post what i sent in the gc 🙄🙄❤️ & for my pookie @pinkmirth because reiner is her man

content warning: (18+, no minors, no blank accounts) oral fixation, oral (f), panty sniffing, male masturbation, reiner is a bit touch starved orrr whatever

reiner made it a habit to lay his head on your lap. it wasn’t something he did when he was particularly moody but it was just something he needed every once in a while. he’d lay there with his eyes closed and you’d stroke his face and rub his scalp, occasionally he’d ask for a “friendly” kiss to his forehead, and that would be it. he needed that comfort; craved it. leaned into your touch and inhaled deeply. with how close he was, he always caught a whiff of what was between your legs. he didn’t mind it; he wanted more than just the scent of it, he wanted to be coated in it. sometimes when you were deep into your phone or whatever movie was playing, he’d slide his face just a tad bit closer to your cunt and do a quiet inhale. he’d do anything in his power to not get hard, fighting his thoughts and fighting the smell. he could just chalk it up to morning wood or something, he knew that.

reiner also knew that he shouldn’t be doing what he’s planning right now. you were only friends, best friends, and best friends didn’t do this to their best friends. but he couldn’t help his self. you always smelled so good and your panties were so cute. frilly pink and a cute little bow on the top; they were sitting on your washing machine and he was counting the seconds until he heard your shower turn on. he gulped, picking them up and holding them in his hand. one sniff wouldn’t hurt would it? he pressed his nose deep into the pink cloth and groaned out: “fuck,” he inhaled again, feeling his pants tighten.

as cock grew harder, he pushed the panties harder into his nose — the smell overwhelming his senses. pulling his pants down, he bites his lips. “wish i could just…fuck, wanna have you to myself.” he swallows, pulling his boxers down. the cool air making him hiss as he wraps his hand around his throbbing cock and jerks himself a bit. with sticky coated fingers, he does one last sniff before he wraps the panties around his cock. sliding them up and down on his leaky cock. “ah fuck, that’s it.” he squeezes his eyes shut. “that’s it, that’s it.”

“reiner, what are you-“ you gasp. eyes wide. he’s quick to put his cock up, but he knew you already saw it.

“it’s not what you think.”

“it’s not what i think? you were… jerking off with my panties rei and it isn’t what i think?”

he gulps, “i just… i can’t explain myself.” he sighs, finally allowing himself to put the panties down. “you just always smell so good and i couldn’t help myself.”

“so you’re a pervert?”

he grimaces but hangs his head low, “yeah..? just… i don’t want this to ruin our friendship, i never thought i’d get to this point and i just… please forgive me.” he pleads, finally looking your way.

“i don’t know rei…” but your clit was throbbing, a new rhythm all on its own. you pushed your thighs apart in an effort to clear your mind. but reiner was always handsome, too handsome for his own good.

you couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t have a tiny crush on him, he was always snuggling into you, spending the night and he had always been there for you. he treated you better than all the men in your life. maybe you should forgive him.

maybe if he…

it was your turn to swallow gulp and turn your head away, “i could forgive you…if you…” his eyes big as he awaits your answer. you were too embarrassed to even say it. “eat me out.”

you could see the way his cock twitched in his pants. “you’re…sure? i mean…” he thought about it time and time before but never did he think you’d ever want him to do that to you.

“nevermind—“

“no. no. it just caught me off guard.” he moves closer to you and takes your hand. “i want to.”

you were fresh out of the shower and the soapy smell on your skin was embedded. but when you spread yourself, he was salivating.

pretty and pink insides with wetness sticking your lips together. the more you spread yourself the more the strings of wetness broke apart. he groaned, “fuck, so pretty.” the smell overwhelming him, he loved it.

this was better than the panties.

he met your eyes before he did a small taste, licking a long stripe up and down your folds. your back arched a bit and he smiled.

he slurps and digs his face in, wetness on his tongue as he spreads your thighs apart even more. opening his mouth, he presses deep sucks into your slit — tongue exploring the center of your sweet creamy center before he works his way up.

he lays his tongue on your clit and sucks. he sucks once and groans, he sucks twice and then he opens his mouth wider — trying to lick at your slit and suck on your clit at the same time. “can’t get enough of you.”

he pulled back, letting your clit go before diving back in and swirling his tongue all over your swollen bud. you’re whining and thrusting your pussy more into his face. rolling your hips into his face, he lays his tongue down flat, small licks all around, watching your body flinch with every tiny touch of his tongue.

“don’t stop—!” your toes curl.

but he wasn’t planning on it.

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