Can't Breathe - Tumblr Posts
WHP HAS BEEN KEEPING THIS FROM ME
IM NOT ANGRY JUST DISAPPOINTED ACTUALLY FUCK YOu YK WJAT I AM VERYANGRY
This is great
I logged into Will You Press The Button and I forgot my user name was Corn Corn And More Corn XD
Just in case you were wondering how I’m doing XD
I can't breathe 🤣🤣
This is perfection 👌
When I tell you I snorted!
Steve Rogers + Smiling
I CAN’T B R E A T H E LOOK AT HOTSHOT, DO YOU S E E THAT DRESS AND LIPSTICK, I’M- 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀
Alley cat Jimin
"I like pretty and shiny stuff...that's why...I like you."
Did I even read this correctly?
This man... has wrecked ruined me.
Lord, I can't even breathe.
Alley cat Jimin
"I like pretty and shiny stuff...that's why...I like you."
Did I even read this correctly?
This man... has wrecked ruined me.
Lord, I can't even breathe.
i just reached 55lvl with raf WHY IS NO ONE TALKING BAT THIS IM GOING INSANEE EJE GOD I REALLY THOUGHT THEY WERE ABT TO—
SEND HELP I CAN'T BREATHE! 😍😩😩❤️
It’s RAW 25
And I haven’t stopped shaking for an hour. Is that bad? HMU
rivalry — blackwood and bracken arranged marriage au
pt. 1 — bracken!reader x davos blackwood
au where two marriage pacts end the rivalry between the blackwoods and the brackens (i don't care if this has been done before this is my version gbye)
as always, warnings: misogyny, davos is a fucking FREAK, smuuuuut, dirty talk, breeding kink
lmk if u want pt 2 — aeron bracken x blackwood!fem!reader ;)
my fiancé actually loosely edited this for me so if this sucks it's his fault
____
“let’s get this over with.”
you gulped. you had been dreading this moment ever since your father announced there would be a peace treaty between your family, the brackens, and the blackwoods. the ceremony, the feast, and the dancing were not your biggest concern — but your wedding night? nothing could stop your hands from shaking — and your new husband, davos blackwood, surely wouldn’t step forward and aid you in your time of anxiety.
you folded your lip in between your teeth, playing with the exquisite shift that was custom made for this exact night — a night supposed to be consumed by the throws of pleasure and a hopeful future, possibly in the form of an heir. you couldn’t believe the brokering of peace came in the form of a marriage pact — to someone who would never see you as anything but a bracken, his enemy.
two marriage pacts, actually — you married davos blackwood, and your brother, aeron bracken, married davos' sister. two feuding families. bound not just by one marriage pact, but two — because everyone knew that only one marriage would not have been sufficient for peace. not only was he forced to spend his life, or the rest of yours, with a bracken — but his sister? forced to marry a bracken, as well? aeron bracken? of them all?
you could see it on his face — gray with sick. it turned your stomach as well — to realize you were loathed so much.
“i can’t change who i am,” you said suddenly, keeping your eyes on the floor. “nor my heritage. i understand you loathe the sight of me, for what it reminds you of — but i can’t change that.”
he didn’t respond. he just undressed with his back turned to you, save for his pants and under shirt. you watched the muscles in his shoulders and back ripple as he tugged off the garments, preparing for bed. you couldn’t see his face as he undressed — and you weren’t sure if it was good or bad. good because you could speak boldly — bad because he refused to look at you, and possibly would refuse your request.
“but as your wife... even if it’s the one you didn’t wish for…” you sighed, losing your thoughts and confidence. “i promise to not be a bother to you — the only thing i ask… is…”
he turned towards you then, but not completely. it was like he gave you his attention, but was fully aware of what he withheld from you — even though you were practically baring your soul to him. you weren’t in his head, you couldn’t be sure… but his silence was enough of a signal that he most likely would not understand a woman’s anxiety in a moment like this.
here goes absolutely nothing, you thought. you mustered up whatever courage you had — albeit very little — and continued, “you do not owe me anything — but i… i…”
“spit it out,” he bit.
your mouth fell slightly agape with his tone. it was the way feuding men speak to each other — not a feuding husband and wife. it was like you were stripped of your femininity and your new identity as his wife, and replaced with that of a rival male — causing you to come to the realization that this feud ran so deep that not even two marriage pacts with the hope of inspiring peace would be sufficient.
he would always hate you. always.
he’s going to hate you as if you’re your brother anyway, you thought. might as well have the stones to match.
you clenched your jaw, raising your eyeline. you refused to cower to a man when it wouldn’t make him hate you less — and especially not if it definitely wouldn’t get you what you wanted. you were afraid, and out of options. with a sigh, you responded, “be gentle with me the first time. just the first — that is all i ask.”
you held his gaze then — refusing to look away. he needed to know how desperate you were, to avoid that unfathomable pain as much as possible. you’d look him in the eye, the eye of the enemy of your family for the last few centuries — because otherwise the shame and dishonor was too great, and too heavy for a new wife to bear.
if you weren’t so intent on not seeming weak, you should have looked — actually looked — at your husband. at how broad his shoulders appeared in comparison to his lean waist and hips. his light eyes that seem to pierce you in a way that only a dagger could; sharp, and forever on edge. how he was so handsome that you might done anything to see him smile or laugh… but you couldn’t. wouldn't. you most likely would never get that chance — but you bet that he looked so handsome when he smiled.
but he would never smile for a bracken.
“be gentle with you?” he asked, accusation already in his eyes. his fists were bawled at his sides as he walked towards you. “as if your craven brother would be gentle with my sister?”
“how dare you even insinuate my brother would treat his lady wife with anything but kindness and respect!” you spat, leaning towards him with anger dripping from your pretty lips. “he may not like this situation any more than us — but he would never harm a woman, no matter what family she came from.”
he shook his head, glancing away from you. “you are actually naive enough to believe that?”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “if you’re stupid enough to believe that of him — then why would you want to be the very thing that you hope does not enter your sister’s bed this very same evening? — do you wish to be as despicable as you believe him to be, my lord husband?”
“watch your mouth, wife!” he spat through gritted teeth. “you would do well to mind your craven tongue.”
you mouth fell agape at his words. “my craven tongue, blackwood?” you scoffed at his words, suddenly too angry to be in the room with him. you didn’t want to get this angry — you wanted this to be as peaceful as possible. “i suddenly find myself wanting to leave this room — do enjoy our wedding night by yourself husband. i’m sure you’re well acquainted with your hand —“
you went to push by him, but he grabbed you by the elbow. he refused to let you pass, but you did not press the subject with words or jerking movements of your body. you did not know your husband — only his reputation from the mouths of kin. you did not dare push his anger — not when he could do with you as he pleased in this room, with no consequence outside these walls.
“i have been made very well aware of a bracken’s inability to perform their duty — but you will not stop me from performing mine, wife,” he grit, glaring down at you.
“i asked you to perform it honorably, husband! — if you can’t, then your reputation precedes you,” you spat. “so what will it be? i put the cards in your hands — so deal.”
his nose curled into a snarl, matching the hateful expression on his face. hatred poured from his veins, while you could feel your own resolve slipping away from your face. fear was creeping back in, as boldness only got a woman so far in the bedroom of an angry man. fear, fear, fear. it leaked from every one of your pores like tears, but you fought those. you blinked several times in order to hide what you could. if he saw the fear on your face, his own expression didn’t change.
…unless he knew the fear was always there, and he didn’t care.
“…please,” you whispered, anger still on your face but your voice threatening to break. “just tonight, husband — please.”
“i would never hurt a woman,” he spat, the flames on his face beginning to subside. “only a bracken —“
“i didn’t think you would hurt a woman,” you spoke, trying to soften your voice. “i asked — because others have described this pain as one of the worst. i was afraid, lord husband — but not of you.”
while you intentionally softened your voice, your husband did no such thing. he merely let his anger die with your words, most likely at the fact that you were the one to admit weakness. you were the one to admit vulnerability. you were the one to have to beg. you had won, but at what cost to your pride?
it didn’t matter now. all that mattered was getting this done. quick, done, and over with.
“lie on your back,” was all he said, holding your gaze.
your lips parted as your eyes looked down at the floor. you turned in place, and began walking towards the bed. you laid down on, fighting the urge to twist your fingers together in anxiety. you kept your head forward, but your gaze down and to the side. out of the corner of your eye, you could see your husband walk over to the bed and climb on top of you.
he unlaced his leathers as he spoke, both of you avoiding the other’s eyes. “avoid allowing your muscles to tense up — it will only make it worse.”
you whispered a small “okay,” barely audible.
you opened your legs, lifting up slightly at your hips for him to rest comfortably. he adjusted, before you watched him bring his hand to his mouth. you couldn’t help yourself — you watched as his lips sucked his long fingers past their opening, lubricating the digits. his eyebrows knitted together with the motion, before his fingers found their way between your thighs. you fought the urge to jump or squeal when you felt his warm, wet fingers thread through your folds.
he let out a sigh of discontent before glancing up to your face.
“trust me, alright?” he asked.
you didn’t verbally respond. you simply looked at him with your lips slightly parted, eventually nodding.
that was enough for him. he climbed down the length of your body, settling himself between your legs. he raised the length of your shift up to your stomach, leaving your bare from the abdomen down. in your nervous state, you took it as a cue to slip your dress off. when he saw the cool air hit your naked breasts and harden your nipples into a peak, his own lips parted — and you felt a growing mass harden against your leg.
“you’re beautiful, wife,” he spoke — seemingly without realizing it. you almost thanked him, before he added, “...for a bracken.”
you narrowed your eyes at him, ready to respond — when he dipped below your navel.
you sucked in a sharp breath of surprise — you couldn’t help it.
his tongue licked up and down the length of your slit, and dove in between your folds. you immediately covered your mouth with your hand, all of your muscles going tense. davos had wrapped his arms under your thighs, hoisting them around his shoulders. his tongue was thick and messy against your folds, causing them to glisten in the flames of the nearby fire.
and once his tongue made contact with the pearl at the very top of your slit, you let out an exhale of ease. it was not lost on your husband — who drew a circle around the circumference of the bud. when he noticed you relaxed more, he drew another. when he noticed you fought the urge to buck your hips up to meet his mouth, he drew yet another. he knew what was happening — but he wasn’t sure if you did.
when you began to fist the sheets with your one free hand, he didn’t stop drawing.
he locked his head in between your thighs with them thrown over his shoulders. your cunt was dripping juices from your sweet, untouched hole — and davos found himself ashamed to admit that he lost himself in the act. for a moment, he couldn’t help but forget the name of the girl above him — the one taking everything he gave her, and acting so grateful with the way she couldn’t stay still.
but after that moment… he could’ve ripped away and plunged into you, making the act become done and over quicker. he could’ve… but he found himself enjoying it.
he continued to draw those circles — those small, tiny, wet circles that sent you in a haze — as he slipped a finger inside your cunt. and then two. he was greedy for your reaction. he was greedy for the way he knew, he fucking knew, that you had never experienced pleasure like this — not by you or anyone else. him, a blackwood, would be the one to make you feel so good you would forget your name and house for even the smallest moment — even the smallest moment would be a win for his pride and for his house.
a small part of him hoped you’d feel shame at the fact he’d make you succumb to the throws of pleasure... but a larger part of him wanted to make you feel so good that you allegiance to your house wavered. ...but when he began to suck on your clit, sounds filling the room — he knew it would be both.
from below, he watched you shove the side of your face into the pillow and pull at its threads. your hips began to ride against his face, coating his chin with everything you could give him. he held you down the best he could — bratty little thing you were, but it was difficult as he also wanted you to lose control. he watched as you tried to bite your lip, harder and harder and harder — before you gave up. you left out a sob into the pillow, legs still shaking, and davos kissed your clit.
when davos crawled back up to meet you, every nerve ending had pins and needles. you were warm from head to toe — no longer in need of the fire, your shift, or any blanket. you were shivering, but not from the cold — but from the comedown, a stranger to passion and lust and pleasure. all three twirled around in your womb like a fire that had never been lit; a treasure to be discovered — only by davos.
“can i kiss you?” you asked before thinking it through.
davos had a look of being caught off guard. he wasn’t expecting you to ask, and you saw it flash on his face. you suddenly grew worried —
he didn’t let you finish your thought. davos leaned forward and kissed you.
he kissed you in the way you would expect a boy you love to kiss you — sweet, gentle, but with a growing passion that could only be shared in the bedroom. he held his weight with one of his strong arms, the other tucked behind the back of your knee. he pulled your knee to his hip and you wrapped both legs around his hips. you pulled him into you and felt the skin of his pelvis brush against your cunt.
“you’re so sweet,” you spoke against his lips. with obvious sarcasm, you added, “...for a blackwood.”
he laughed then. “you’re obedient for a bracken.”
you flicked his stomach, causing him to yelp — but you didn’t let him pull away for long. with both hands, you pulled him back to meet your lips. it hadn't even crossed your mind to ask him to wipe his mouth, for you did not want to. the old gods and the new would surely curse you for such lust filled thoughts — but you didn't care. how could you care when you had found a way to bring peace between a blackwood and a bracken, even if it was temporary? how could you care when you sharing one of the most holy of relationships, being the intimacy between husband and wife? how could you care when this night was going better than you could have hoped?
you could sense him bring his own hand down to his large member, feeling his forearm brush your thigh as he fisted his length. as much as you wanted to reach out and pleasure him — you were worried for what came next. the pain. the inevitable.
davos lined up the red tip of his cock with your tight hole, barely stretched out by his fingers. he slid his cock up and down the length of your slit with the intent of collecting as much of your juices as possible. with a slight push, he entered you.
you immediately let your head fall onto the pillow as the stretch began to burn. the pain on your face was evident, and davos guided his hand to draw circles on your clit once more. your muscles loosened, welcoming the pleasure that davos brought you.
“please,” you gasped, flicking your eyes up to him.
he stared at your face with an intense look of study. with his eyebrows knitted together, he brought one of your legs over his lower back and held you by the back of your thigh. the stretch was felt in the length of your cunt, as it stretched to fill his size.
davos was concerned for your well-being, of course, but something was beginning to curl in his lower abdomen. he wanted to take your by force — prying your legs open, holding your thighs in place, and drilling his cock into your swollen, dripping cunt. he wanted you to moan his name in his ear and pull at his hair or scratch his back — but he couldn’t, not yet. not just yet. not when you were you worried before, especially now that your attitude had been lost.
he had half a mind to point that out — lest that return.
“keep going,” you spoke.
“what if —“
“i’ll tell you to stop if it hurts,” you interrupted. “it’s all felt so good — i don’t want it to stop.”
he quirked an eyebrow at you. “is my wife claiming to know more than her lord husband?”
you squinted your eyes at him, ready to bite back. “i’ll have you know —“
but he didn’t wait for you to finish.
he leaned forward, placing both forearms on the side of your head. you could feel his lips against your earlobe, causing a quick intake of breath to overtake you. as he leaned forward to your ear, his hips leaned forward as well. his large cock was fully buried inside you now, rocking back and forth as it hit a spot so deep inside you that you didn’t know how he was able to fit. it felt like it was right behind your tiny pearl, which was being nudged by your husband’s pelvic bone. the combination was driving you crazy, only nonsense poured from your pretty lips…
“you’ll take what i give you, my pretty bracken wife,” he spat. “or should i say, blackwood, hmm? no longer craven?”
you wanted to bite back. you wanted to slap him. you wanted to push him from between you and make him finished himself off — but you couldn’t. you couldn’t fight your hips as they raised to meet his own, holding still as he pounded into your pretty cunt.
“a cock made you forget where your loyalties lie?” he questioned with a scoff, but never forgetting to smirk. “that’s all you need, wife? no one’s ever made you feel like this before?”
“you fucking —“
“say it,” he spat, almost growling against your lobe. his hips were snapping against yours as your cunt milked his cock, hoping for the spend that would seal the accomplishment of the marital duty. you were almost in tears from the frustration and the pleasure — not sure how to channel it, not sure what to do with it. “say it!”
“no one, davos,” you cried into the open air above you. “only you, only…”
his hands were tangled through your hair now, keeping your head upright as he sucked on your neck. little nips and bites sent shockwaves throughout your body, and your hips began to stir in the familiar way they had moments prior. davos’ weight held you perfectly still and taut, subjecting you to the pleasure his cock brought in the most perfect way.
“bet you can’t stand that you’re buried in a bracken right now,” you bit, almost succumbing to tears. “— can’t stand that only my womb will give you an heir —“
he yanked on your hair then, extending your neck so you were at his mercy. a strangled gasp left your mouth as you clung to him, which surprised you. you once asked for gentleness, kindness, sweetness… but if you had known how good this would feel… you wouldn’t have even bothered. you would’ve pushed and pulled him all night — subjecting him to the same insults that he hurled towards you if it meant he would fuck you this good.
“and i’ll coat your womb in everything i have, wife,” he growled, pushing his hand between your bodies to rub circles on your clit. “everything i have — until you’re full of blackwood seed. until there's blackwood in your veins. a full blackwood honorable enough to give me a blackwood heir.”
“i’ll never be —“
you couldn’t finish your sentence. the combination between his large cock taking you and his skilled fingers working you… it was all too much. you couldn’t handle the pleasure and the bittersweetness of his attitude, as you were already so close to your peak and losing to him. you could feel the heat rise to your cheeks, as well as spreading throughout your womb… ready for him…
“davos, please — “ you cried. “i’m so close. please don’t stop…”
“tell me you’re a blackwood,” he spat. “say it — or i’ll stop.”
“you wouldn’t —“
“i would dare, lady blackwood,” he spat, interrupting you. “now tell me who you belong to — or i’ll leave you unsatisfied with this pretty cunt dripping.”
he immediately began to slow down his hips, and you felt his fingers begin to slow as well. you tried to fight the incessant need to have him continue, but it proved difficult. soon, frustration replaced pleasure. anger replaced lust. need replaced pride.
“i’m yours, lord blackwood — !” you cried, pulling his hips back into yours. “please —“
he didn’t let you finish. immediately, his lips were on yours. he tangled your tongue with his until you could feel it down your throat. his tongue, his fingers, and his cock — they filled you whole, leaving you wanting for nothing. he held you to still so tight that all you could do was whatever he wanted. his own hips were thrusting against yours — chasing his own pleasure while you unraveled like pretty thread.
“this tight, perfect cunt…” he growled. “so many little blackwood heirs will bless this womb… seven hells…”
he kissed you once more, and you felt something break inside you. your head threw itself back against the pillow as every muscle in your body tightened and stood still. a sob left your mouth, incoherent — but when davos heard it, heard it crying for him and only for him, he broke as well. the heat and passion between two sworn enemies threw you both into climax that neither of you had ever experienced before. you pulled at his hair, while he bit down on your shoulder. and there was your bond — sealed in pain, pleasure, and blood.
when your peak had cooled, you found yourself clinging to your new husband as he still laid on top of you. he was breathing heavily, having expended much energy and couldn’t bring himself to leave your warm embrace. you began to scratch his back, hoping to relax him and get him to stay on top of you…
“that feels good,” he grunted from his spot in your neck. “are you sure i was once to hate you, wife? i find myself unable to remember why our families hate each other at this moment.”
you giggled. “we might not be able to help them… but i don’t see why it must carry into our union.”
“oh, wife…” he spoke, kissing your neck once more. “if our fights always lead to that — i believe our union will be forever blessed.”
____
lmk what you guys think!! who's ready for pt 2 w aeron?? - L xo