#axle's best asks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 days

Text

Winter's King 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: yo, work is driving me nuts.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Lady Jazlene, a queen by marriage, cries herself to sleep. You stay until she snores and snuff the candle as you leave her on her stomach atop the stuffed mattress. You emerge between the guards and wonder if they keep people out or keep her in.

They don’t react to you. No one really does. A shadow approaches. The thickset man grunts at you as the moonlight shines off his dark mail. Bryce waits patiently as you near him. He turns and walks beside you in silence.

Much of the camp is asleep. The only fires that remain are those of the soldiers on watch for marauders and bandits. Your soles kick loose pebbles and trample flattened grass further. You yawn as you reach the luggage carts and find the one you rode in. The grey horse is tie to the axle, dozing on its feet with puffing nostrils.

“The road will not get any less turbulent,” Bryce warns as he grabs his bedroll from across his mount’s rump. “You will need sleep, maid.”

“Thank you, sir,” you lift the canvas draped over the back of the wagon.

He grumbles and unfurls his roll across the dirt. You climb up and nestle down beneath the cover, pressed against a chest as you curl up. You hear the soldier lay down with a groan, “...too sweet...”

You close your eyes and rest your head on a bent arm. The darkness quickly swallows you up into slumber and the day fades into obscurity. You’re not conscious long enough to dread the one ahead.

As the sun rises, heat gathers in the cart. You wake in a damp sweat, nearly suffocating as you gulp up cool air. You slip down onto your feet and grab onto the cart to keep from stumbling. Bryce grunts as your soles crunch on the ground.

“Eh, where’re you off to?” He sneers.

You look down at him. His eyes are still closed as his grey steed sniffs at the dirt close to him.

“Sir, I... I haven’t... relieved myself since... erm, well...”

“Go on, but not too far,” he opens his eyes and sits up. “Holler if you meet trouble.”

The horse huffs into his steely hair and he pets its nose. He grabs onto its reins and hauls himself up. You quickly spin and flit away. You go off into the brush where its thick and squat down, your skirts gathered above your knees. You miss the springs behind the castle where you would bathe with the other maids, you could use a wash now.

You finish up and peer over the stretch of bodies, horses, and carts. You set off back toward the cart and as you come in sight of Bryce, he unties a dented kettle from his saddles. You feel much better without the pressure beneath your guts.

“I could fetch water,” you offer.

He looks over his shoulder. You think you surprised him.

“Quiet mouse,” he mutters and faces you, gripping the bent handle, “I can manage a potful of water.”

“Yes, sir, I only was being helpful.”

“You stay, take Daisy to find some fresh grass,” he points to the horse.

“Daisy?” You look at the beast, “is that her name?”

He shrugs and stalks off. You go to the reins and loose them. You glance around and lead her over to an unyellowed swath of grass. She dips her long neck and grazes, tearing the strands noisily as her teeth clack. You pet her ear as she comes rather close to the hem of your skirt.

Heavy steps tramp up behind you. You don’t bother looking as you assume it’s Bryce. Those who are stirring are barely able to lift themselves out of their rolls. The lazy rise of dawn does not inspire fastidiousness as the clouds haze amber and rose.

“Fine horse,” the king’s timbre rumbles over you.

You turn and bow your head, “your highness.”

He inhales through his nose before he speaks again, “are you a fast rider?”

“I’ve never... I don’t ride, your highness,” you reply, staring at his black mail, just at the center of his chest. “It isn’t my horse.”

“I know it, I thought perhaps...” he begins and shifts his weight in his boots, “you might’ve secreted away the mare. That you would be sick for your home.”

“Your highness? No, I wouldn’t--” You put your hand to your apron, “I am not a thief.”

He pauses and his thick fingers toy with his belt, fiddling with a leather purse, “that isn’t what I...” he blows out in exasperation, “I do not think you dishonest. In fact, you are the most honest creature I’ve met around here.”

You keep your eyes down, “I only mean to feed the horse.”

“Yes, I believe you,” he assures, his tone glum, “forgive my inference. Truly, it wasn’t intended as such.”

“I understand, your highness,” you say.

“It was a jape, a poor one, I suppose,” he hooks his thumb in his belt and turns to pace. “I wanted to thank you. I have yet to figure out how to handle Lady Jazlene but you keeping her company, I do appreciate it.” He stops and crosses his arms as he faces you again, “last night, what you heard and saw... we are strangers still, her and I.”

“I am a maid, your highness, I serve the lady and you now,” you reply, “that’s all I do.”

His arms bulge before he drops them, “yes, I suppose for you, the matters of nobility are dull.”

“It is not of my concern, your highness,” you say, “I am to see that all the wine and food and little things are taken care of.”

You peer up at the sky as the dimness slowly recedes. His figure looms below and he slowly treads closer. You squeeze the reins.

“You serve the queen, the king, and... a horse,” he reaches to touch its snout, dragging his knuckles along its grey fur. “Make certain we are fed and content.”

“Whatever is needed, your highness,” you answer and watch his hand stroke the horse.

“And what do you need?” He asks.

You quork your head and stick out your lip. It's an odd question. You have what you need. You have a place in the cart, you have some nuts left over from Bryce’s generosity, and you have some hours sleep behind you.

“Nothing, I think,” you say.

He scratches behind the horse’s ear, “and what do you want?”

You purse your lips. You think. Another strange inquiry. What should you want? That’s not something anyone ever worried for. You only troubled after what others wanted.

“I... I want to see the snow,” you say at last, “I think I dreamt of it but I can’t remember. I don’t really know what it would look like but I remember once Merinda spoke of it. She knew a stable hand who once lived in the north.”

He’s quiet. Your answer isn’t very interesting. To him, the snows must be so tedious. Nothing more than ordinary. He makes a clicking noise.

“I want to see the snow too,” he pulls his hand away from the horse and for a moment, he seems to reach for you, recoiling short of touching your grasp on the reins. He withdraws and presses his thumb to his teeth. He hums. “We have far to go before the snow...” he rasps, “should you require anything for the road ahead, you may ask.”

“That is kind, your highness, but I don’t expect I require much,” you assure, “thank you.”

“Mmm,” he drones as he faces the sunrise and sets his posture, “onward.”

He marches away as you stay and watch Daisy munch on the grass. You comb your fingers through her main, loosening the tangles. When another approaches, you glance over. Bryce tidies his own hair with his hands.

“Water is boiling, maid,” he declares, “I have some spare mint leaf for tea.”

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you smile down at Daisy and move out of reach of her teeth. “I will stay with the horse until she is done.”

“Hm, aye, I understand,” his forehead lines, “she is much more pleasant than I.”

He nods and turns back the way he came. You watch after him as he goes to sit before the hanging kettle, a low flame burning beneath it. He rolls his shoulders and hunches forward as he plants his elbows on his knees. These people of the Hinterlands are not so cold as they pretend.

⚔️

The long train continues through the lands. Some days slower than others. There are some where progress stops at midday in favour of passing through a village or approaching a nearby farm. The king departs from the larger party, riding with his soldiers to greet the commonfolk. Lady Jazlene refuses to accompany her husband in favour of her silk tent and wine.

The pauses in your trek makes you curious; you only ever heard of King Waleran showing his face to the citizens during the harvest festivals and self-aggrandizing ceremonies. You never saw the king yourself, only heard Lord Dustan and his wife resentfully complain of how the king never made the journey to Debray. Did he not recall that once a duchess was married to his great-uncle?

You spend the hours in Jazlene’s company. She wants her wine and mutton. You notice that her appetite for the former has grown since the first day’s travel. She even requested that some casks be sought during one of the king’s visits. He acted as if he did not hear her entreaty. Their few encounters since that first night have been terse and short, neither offering much more than a word or two.

The queen swirls her cup, watching the motion of the wine within. She giggles and puts it down, picking up the looking glass and admiring herself. She sits on a wooden stool, her skirts dusted with the dirt of the road. Despite the filth, she insists on sporting a new gown each day, no matter how extravagant.

“What a fool? To think he is wasting his time on commoners,” she trills, “you know, he should be here, worried about his wife and queen. Not married a week and all we’ve done is ride anon. I’ve had no wedding, no feast. How I am neglected for these dirty farmers.”

You say nothing. You’re not certain she recalls you’re there. She speaks to herself often as if her mother is there. A few times, she has even called for the duchess. Often when she’s nearly finished the bottle.

She pouts and sniffs. She drains the cup completely and puts it down heavily on the crate next to her. She grips the mirror with both hands and looks at her reflection. She contorts her face, sucking in her cheeks, pushing out her lips, turning her head this way and that.

“Aren’t I beautiful?” She nearly whispers. You don’t flinch. You stare at your hem. She sighs and stomps her foot, “I’m asking you!”

You peek up at her, surprised.

“Yes, your highness, you are very beautiful.”

She frowns, “you lie to me.”

“I wouldn’t lie, your highness.”

“Don’t argue with me,” she snarls and slams the mirror down, cracking the glass on the crate. She stands and blusters around, her skirts catching between her legs, “if I am beautiful, what makes me so, hm? Tell me!”

You stare at her. She is beautiful. You always thought so.

“Your hair, your curls, your highness, they are beautiful.”

She rolls her eyes, “just my hair?”

She wobbles slightly as she struts towards you.

“Your eyes. They are pretty too. And you have a nicely set nose. And your lips are finely curved, your highness,” you explain as she looms closer and closer.

“Hmph,” she stops, slouching drunkenly as she leans in to consider you, “of course you would say so. Look at you. So plain. An ugly handmaid.”

You stare back at her, a strike in your chest, then drop your gaze. It is the wine. She huffs, her alcohol-laden breath tinging your nose.

“The king,” she babbles as she turns on her heels, swaying dangerously, “we’ve only lain together our first night. It was... quick. He didn’t want me to sleep with him,” she raises a hand and flutters her fingers, “he shooed me away like some whore.” She spins and falls onto the stool, “if I am so beautiful, why does he not want me?”

You watch her. She isn’t looking for your answer. She’s talking to talk. Lady Rezlyn isn’t there so she has only herself and stagnant air trapped in the tent.

“It is my duty to have his babies. To give him heirs. I cannot do that if he will not touch me. But perhaps when are in one place, he might try again,” she smiles and lifts the broken mirror. She tilts it and lets her hand drift down to your bodice. She pushes her chest up, “when he lets me take this off, he will see. He will want me.”

She convinces herself as she preens at her reflection, “perhaps it won’t hurt.” She looks around and sees the bottle of wine. She grabs it by the neck. She grips it and wiggles it at you in the air. “He’s even thicker than this,” she puts the mirror down and balances the bottle on her palm as she circles her fingers around the bottom of the bottles neck, just before it rounds out, “and longer.”

You stare at the silk wall, mortified by her words. She giggles and the movement of her hand draws your eyes up. You watch from under your lashes as she brings her hands up and down the bottle neck.

“Mother says, just like this,” she pumps it, “that he should like it very much.” She stops and focuses on the bottle, “mmm, he is a man underneath it all.” She tosses the bottle away, “and I am a beautiful woman. He will want me.”

You lower your eyes again and twine your fingers together. You can’t help but feel bad for her. You only wish you had some words of wisdom or comfort to offer her. Or that she would hear them. You can’t help but touch the fading bruise along your stomach as you languish in the tepid silence. It’s better to let her forget you.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #series #au #medieval au #the witcher #winter's king #dark fic #dark!fic

184 notes · View notes

he-goes-down · 4 months

Text

Our Last Summer

- irl friend req

Masterlist

Pairing:

Duff Mckagan x reader x Slash

Warnings: threesome, sex in the pool, unprotected p in v, anal, smut with plot

Second Person POV:

It was the middle of the day, the guys had invited you over for a swim, a thing they do now regularly as it’s summer and they had a pool installed in the backyard. You rocked up to their place, wearing a light purple and blue bikini under a white crocheted shawl that you used as a skirt. Opening the already unlocked door, stepping inside with two plastic bags, one with extra clothes and the other with booze. You put the booze on the kitchen counter and tossed your clothes bag in Izzy’s room as you were normally in there, being best friends after all. You got to the threshold of the door to the backyard and Izzy spotted you. Laying on one of the lounge chairs, under an umbrella, he’s such a vampire sometimes. He got up from the chair and walked towards you, and you got closer as well. “You’re wearing the bikini I picked out!” He said in awe. His eyes under his sunglasses scanning you up and down. “Mhm..” You responded with a smile as you began to untie your shawl. “Ah! You’re here!” You heard Axl from the end of the pool, ready to jump in, he was already wet so it seemed like a canon-ball competition, one he always looses. The rest of the guys heard Axl’s call and turned to your direction to look at you. All them happy to see you and all of them eyeing you up and down as they could fully see your body in the bikini. You went to the edge of the pool and asked Izzy to put sunscreen on your back as you finished lathering the placing you could reach. His hands massaging your skin, which felt quite nice. Slash and Duff we’re watching this scene, their emotions unknown but definitely not in a positive light

You got into the pool and swam around with Steven, doing laps underwater and you won every time, except once when Axl took you by your leg and pulled you back. Izzy did get in the pool at a stage, he just wanted to finish a cig before he did so. You on the other hand didn’t know he was getting in the pool, you were laughing and splashing with Slash and Duff until you felt someone come from under you and hoister you on their shoulders. Izzy was the culprit of course. You continued to fight the two others, now fighting in teams of two. But in the end Slash and Duff both gave each other a knowing nod and pushed Izzy over taking you with him. These chicken fights happened a few times as Steven and Axl joined, switching around the teams each round and for obvious reasons anyone on Duff’s shoulders were sure to win.

Although when evening started to fall you went back inside for a meal and a few drinks. Still all in your costumes as you ate and drank. It was now night, the food had all digested and sank, although the alcohol still stayed up in your head. Axl and Slash went outside again for a night swim, they were drunk enough to do something stupid but not enough to drown and sink to the bottom of the pool. You heard some yelling but then a big splash after so thinking nothing of it. Until the rest of you were called. You were last to exit the house as you put away the dishes. Everyone was back in the pool, but something was different. You saw the scattered swimming trunks in the side of the pool. ‘Jesus christ’ you thought in a laugh. “Come in doll, the water’s really nice.” Izzy cooed, calling you over. You went to the edge of the pool about to step in, but you thought ‘fuck it.’, taking a step back, taking off your bikini pieces. All of them now fully sober and paying attention to you as you got in the pool.

Now fully submerged in the water, not trying to get too close to any of them. But Izzy came up behind you, holding your waist. You blushed hard, you didn’t know what to feel. You just giggled it off as the two of you began chatting, you trying your hardest not to look at him but him trying hard to show you that he wasn’t looking but his eyes were very focused on your body. Duff and Slash noticed Izzys wandering eyes on you body as you now stood in-front of him. Both Duff and Slash swam over, talking a bit before asking Izzy to go get more drinks. Now you in between Duff and Slash all of your laid with your arms crossed at the edge of the pool. Now you were really trying not to look down at them, you had never seen them in anyway naked. You had seen Izzys once when he was off his rocket drunk and you had to change him into other clothes. Your eyes did have a quick peak at both their bodies, and something more specific. You were thankful you were in a body of water so they couldn’t notice how wet you were.

“Hey where’s Axl?” Slash asked, scanning the dark pool, the only light was the far away blue pool light and the lights of the house. “And Steven.” You added. But soon enough you heard drunken giggles from inside the house. It was now just the three of you left and the three swimming costumes on the other edge if the pool. “And where’s Izzy with the drinks anyway?” You asked. Duff shrugged but gave a secret look to Slash which he reciprocated. Again hearing another voice from inside the house, not a voice, a noise. Snoring. Whenever Izzy is drunk he will sometimes collapse into a catnap but wake everyone else up with his loud snoring. All three of you laughed as you realised the noise

After more chatting, the tension from your naked bodies close to each-other sparked dirty conversations. About experience, would you rathers, casual flirts. The pools water was now getting replaced with a pool of lust.

“Have you ever…” Duff thought of a question. “Had sex in a pool?” He finished. You answered quickly, “Not a pool but in the ocean.” Both of them looked at you quizzically. “Never again, too much sand.” You added. “What have you ever Duffles?” You nicknamed. “Twice.” “Slash?” You asked after Duffs answer. “Yep, a few times, mostly in hot tubs though.” He told you. After a few more questions on details. “Would you ever?” Slash asked. “Ever what?” Your brow lifted. “Have pool sex.” He informed. “Wouldn’t mind.”

You knew exactly where this was going. If you weren’t holding yourself up by your arms, your legs would have been so weak that you would sink. Your mind was wondering, and so with that your eyes did too. Going from the tiles of the pool, to Duff’s newly golden tanned body, to under the water your gaze fixed a bit to long on one particular position. “My eye’s aren’t under the water are they now…?” Duff said, catching you off guard and making you blush hard, if it was any harder the water around you would start to boil. “There’s no shame in it honey.” He said, now moving closer to you, turning around so his back was on the wall of the pool. “I haven’t been paying attention either.” He told you. “None of us have…” Slash began, now also moving closer, but a bit away from the pools edge, nearly behind you. You looked at Slash, silent but your nervous breathes showed your lust. Adding on as your eyes immediately went to look below the waterline, but quickly scanning up, meeting Slash’s face as a shit eating grin began to plaster it. Duff moved to be in front of you now as your nervousness made you let go if the pools edge. Duff’s back laid in the pools edge, his hands under the water feeling your waist to your hips. You subconsciously wrapped your legs around his waist. Slash in the other hand moved to be behind you, his hands in your waist as his chest pressed against your bare back. You wanted them. More than anything, you wanted them. They wanted you too, finally getting that security of being able to love you, always in competition with Izzy, but now it was final that you were theirs. In short whispers you agreeing to this.

Slash kissed your neck as his dick pressed against your ass. Duff kissed your tits as his dick was against your folds. Both of the men sucking on your skin leaving hickeys. “Please…” You pleaded for them to enter you. Your head falling into Duff’s shoulder as Slash’s thick cock lined up to your ass. “Take him baby.” Duff told you, releasing his mouth from your breasts. Slash held your cheeks apart as his dick slowly started to enter your tighter hole. “Good girl… you can do it.” Slash mumbled as his hard thick cock began to stretch out the hole. “Fuck…” his head falling back at the tightness. Your body burned uncomfortably at the harsh gritting feeling, but it soon eased as he went slowly and gently into you and stopped to rest every inch that his cock had to offer. His head laid on your shoulder and neck as he sighed bottoming out. You moaned and whined still even whilst he wasn’t moving. But you were louder as Duff began to push into your cunt. His longer dick getting pushed and pressed to the back of your pussy as he tired to get his whole length into you. Your head flung back in ecstasy feeling the two men inside you and one of then had their fingers starting to please your clit. “Fuck baby… you’re so fucking hot. Taking us both like a good girl.” Duff told you as felt your hips repeatedly press into his as Slash slowly fucked his way in and out if your ass. “Mmm, fuck so tight. So fucking perfect.” Slash moaned under his heavy sighs. As both of the men fucked your holes your orgasm was much closer and fiercer than normal.

“Mmm… gonna cum… fuck!” You whined. “Oh god baby- me too-…” and with Slash’s heavy sighs and uneven thrusts he came inside your ass. You very quickly after came abruptly over Duffs dick, cursing out and whimpering as you came down from it. Duff was very soon to finish as well, as when you orgasmed your pussy clenched around his dick tighter than anything and squeezed out his cum for him, shooting inside your begging pussy. All three of you were sighing heavily. Hot sweat dripping down into the cool as your body’s were still attached to each other. Duff kissed you as you got off his dick and Slash did too once he pulled out your ass and picked you from the water, holding you in a bridal position.

“Shit, we have to drain this pool after that.”

A/n: sorry that the end was rushed its late and I want to get to other requests and make space for newer ones

And yes I know that you have to have a silicone lubricant for water sex but I was too lazy to try add it

#Spotify #guns n roses #izzy stradlin #slash #axl rose #duff mckagan #steven adler #duff gnr #slash gnr #izzy gnr #axl gnr #steven gnr #duff mckagan x reader #slash x reader #duff mckagan smut #slash smut

153 notes · View notes

snaxle · 3 months

Note

why won’t the “tolerant left” let dragon have been the one to be prergrenart

this ask is really awesome out of context

#asks #anon #axle's best asks

16 notes · View notes

dykefoolish · 11 months

Note

qfoolish is woman coded in the way he experiences misogyny 😔😔

if q!dantdm was still on the island he'd tell q!foolish to go make him a sandwich

#asks #anon #axle's best asks

14 notes · View notes

wheelsgoroundincircles · 4 months

Text

FORD MUSTANG BOSS 302

BOSS-A-NOVA!

They called it The Boss and for two short years it ruled the muscle car scene in the US, establishing itself as one of the greatest road and race cars of the era. Now, it’s one of the most collectible.

In 1960s US street lingo, if something was ‘boss’ it was cool, tough, the best. And the 1969 Boss 302 Mustang wore its badge with pride. It launched just four and a half years after the first Mustang was revealed to critical acclaim and record sales. Yearly updates to keep Mustang fresh in the face of tough new challengers from General Motors and Chrysler (particularly the Camaro) resulted in the once lean and pretty ’Stang muscling up, both in body shape and under-bonnet brawn, and the 1969-70 Boss models were the zenith of Mustang styling.

Thereafter, Mustangs became increasingly bloated and anaemic as the 1970s fuel crisis and stricter pollution laws cut horsepower and stylists lost their way; the rippling flanks and thrusting nose of the late 60s/early 70s cars gave way to boxy, bland designs. That early look would not be recaptured until 2005, when new Mustangs were given retro styling.

The Boss 302 was launched at the same time as its big-block brother, the Boss 429. Both were positioned as competition specials; Ford wanted to homologate its 302-cuber for Trans-Am and the 429ci monster for NASCAR. In fact, Ford went wild with engines between 1969-70, offering nine V8s – the ‘economy’ 302, 351 Windsor, 351 Cleveland, 390, 428 Cobra Jet, 428 Super Cobra Jet, 429 ‘wedge’, Boss 302 and Boss 429.

For the Boss 302, Ford’s high-compression 302ci small-block V8 was beefed up with four-bolt main bearing caps and redesigned ‘Cleveland’ cylinder heads with bigger inlet and exhaust valves, and ports that allowed the engine to breathe more efficiently.

These ‘semi-hemi’ heads were based on the Ford 427ci racing engine’s combustion chambers, and a balanced forged steel crankshaft and forged steel conrods allowed the engine to handle high rpms for sustained periods. A single 780cfm four-barrel Holley carburettor sat atop a high-rise aluminium inlet manifold, while a dual-point distributor, high-pressure oil pump, windage tray and screw-in welch plugs were further indications of its competition intent.

A rev limiter was fitted, progressively cutting spark from 5800rpm to 6150, but it was easily bypassed and the Boss 302 could reportedly keep making power up to 8000rpm with minor mods. In the muscle car marketing war, Ford claimed a peak horsepower figure of 290bhp at 5800rpm (the same as the Camaro Z/28), but that was extremely conservative.

Two four-speed manual Top Loader transmissions were available: a wide-ratio ’box with Hurst shifter more suited to street and strip use, and a close-ratio unit for racing. Adding to the race or road options list were four diffs: the stock 3.5:1 nine-inch, Traction-Lok 3.5:1 and 3.91:1 and the No-Spin 4.30:1 built by Detroit Automotive. Axles and diff centres were also strengthened to take the loads.

Suspension was also race-inspired with heavy-duty springs, shocks and sway bar up front, and Hotchkiss-style rear suspension with heavy-duty leaf springs, sway bar and staggered shock absorbers. The left-hand shock absorber was bolted behind the axle and the right in front, to reduce axle tramp under acceleration. Amazingly for such a high-performance car, braking was still only discs and drums with power assistance.

Ironically, the Boss 302’s sexy shape was styled by former General Motors designer Larry Shinoda, who is often credited with coming up with the Boss moniker. When asked what he was working on, he replied, "The boss’s car", a reference to new Ford president ‘Bunkie’ Knudson, who was also ex-GM and had recruited Shinoda to Ford.

While the wheelbase remained unchanged at 2740mm, the ’69 Mustang was 96.5mm longer overall to accommodate all the V8s offered, although the big-blocks still had to be shoe-horned under the bonnet. Shinoda’s ’69 Boss 302 was also one of the first production cars to offer an optional front air dam and adjustable rear wing, and his use of high-contrast black panels, rear window SportsSlats, and go-faster stripes made the Boss a real attention-grabber. The ’69 was also the only quad-headlight Mustang, a feature that was dropped for 1970 models.

In 1970, American Hot Rod magazine dubbed the 1970 Boss 302 as "definitely the best handling car Ford has ever built", while the conservative Consumer Guide called it "uncomfortable at any speed over anything but the smoothest surface". Unique Cars resident Mustang maniac, ‘Uncle’ Phil Walker, never read the Consumer Guide review, but even if he had it wouldn’t have stopped him buying the immaculate 1970 Grabber Orange Boss 302 you see here.

Phil already has his beloved 1966 Shelby GT350H, but the Boss 302 really got his Mustang juices percolating. And he wasn’t alone, because the first Boss he saw, some 43 years ago, is still one of Australia’s most iconic race cars: Allan Moffat’s Trans-Am racer. Phil remembers it clearly.

"I saw Moff race it Calder and I was inspired to own one," Phil recalls. "It was the most aggressive-looking car; its stance was something you had to see to believe. It looked like it was doing a million miles per hour when it was parked.

"My Boss was originally a one-owner car and I bought it from a friend of mine in California, Dave, who I also bought my Shelby GT350H from 19 years ago. Dave found it in a barn with a blown engine, but in otherwise pretty good condition.

"The lady who owned it from new didn’t realise it had a high-compression engine and had run it on standard fuel. When it blew up she just parked it.

"Dave did a nut-and-bolt restoration over two years, then put it up on his hoist. He didn’t want to sell it, but I got my way in the end – unfortunately he had the last say on the price (laughs). I didn’t even bother to test drive it; I knew it was a good car. It had 21 (new) miles on the odo when I picked it up and only 54,000 miles in total."

Since then, Phil has only put a couple of hundred miles on the car, but that’s enough for him to have bonded with it.

"I’ve only had the Boss since January and it’s growing on me. It’s different to the Shelby. It’s bigger and very low.

"The engine is incredible. Dave is one of the best engine builders in California and when he rebuilt the 302 he changed the cam spec. US camshaft technology was okay in the 60s and 70s, but if you had a big-cam muscle car they wouldn’t idle and they were terrible for driving in cities.

"A proper Boss engine can rev to 8500rpm all day and for a V8 that’s pretty serious. But they’re not renowned for low-down torque; it starts coming on from 3500rpm. My car still has a solid-lifter cam, but it pulls like a train from 1200rpm in top gear and I can drive it around at 1500rpm in top all day.

"It’s got the four-speed close-ratio Top Loader with the long first gear and with a 3.7:1 rear end it does about 55-60mph (89-97km/h) in first gear. It bloody goes!"

Phil is a fussy bugger and his cars have to look just right, so Russell Stuckey from Stuckey Tyres has ordered him a set of genuine 15 x 8 Minilites from England to replace the standard Magnum 500s.

"I want it to look like the Parnelli Jones race car, and to get the stance I want it’s going to have 275/60s on the rear and 255/60s on the front. At the moment it’s a pretty car that is tough, but I want a tough car that looks tough. And that’s all I’m going to do to it."

After his first real fang in the Boss, Phil felt that his Shelby would be half a lap in front at the end of a 10-lap sprint at Sandown, but now thinks the Boss would be quicker. We might have to put both to the acid test one day. What do you mean "no way", Phil?

It was a nervous Phil who turned up at a Melbourne storage facility in January to pick up his new Boss 302. So nervous, in fact, that he took along Unique Cars art director Ange and a sturdy tow rope – just in case.

The storage people were even more apprehensive – they had been warned about just how anal he is with his cars, as he explains: "The lady there said, ‘You must be pretty fanatical because we’ve been given strict instructions that no one is to touch the car except you’." Fortunately, the car arrived in pristine condition.

"I was pretty excited, I’d been waiting for seven weeks," Phil laughs. "I took the car cover off it, fired it up, and it drove home like a brand new car. It was as good as I thought it would be. I spent the next three hours washing it."

Sounds like our Phil.

PARNELLI AND ME

Three years ago, my mate Dave and I were invited to a Trans-Am dinner at Portland International Raceway where Dave was racing his 1970 Trans-Am Boss 302 and I was crewing for him.

When we were driving there we noticed this black Mercedes following us. When we stopped it did too and this bloke got out and said, "I noticed you guys back at the hotel. You’re going to the Trans-Am dinner aren’t you? I’m lost." It was Parnelli Jones!

I jumped in with him and when we got there I ‘invited’ myself onto Parnelli’s table, which also included Pete Brock – the guy who designed the Shelby Daytona Coupe. There was I, Mr Nobody, with all these US racing heavies, but Parnelli was a real gentleman, not up himself in any way.

The next day they had free lap time at Portland and, when I saw Parnelli there with Ford’s new ‘Parnelli Jones’ Boss 302 tribute Mustang, I asked if there was any chance of a ride and he said jump in. We did 10 laps and the guy hadn’t lost any of his ability; my eyes were getting bigger and bigger coming into the corners.

It was a great experience that I’ll never forget. – PW

IT's MINE...

Moff’s Mustang is probably the most iconic Australian racecar and after seeing it I was inspired to own a Boss Mustang. Then, about 25 years ago, I went to Pebble Beach in Monterey for the first time and saw a 1970 Grabber Orange Boss 302, which was the colour Parnelli Jones raced in Trans-Am. That day I knew I had to own a Boss. It was the car I’d always wanted after my Shelby, which was my lifelong dream car.

My Boss 302 is fully optioned, including the Shaker, extra side mirror, tacho and rear louvres, and it’s got a lot of wow factor. When you drive down the freeway, you get the thumbs-up from all sorts of different people. I think it’s the colour.

It’s closer to show standard than my Shelby. It’s got the paint marks on the tailshaft and all the little concours details, but I’m never going to show it; I’m not into that.

The 1969/70 body shape is still the best. Ford got it right then, but lost the plot after that and it’s reflected in their collectibility today. – PW

#car #cars #muscle car #american muscle #ford #FORD MUSTANG BOSS 302 #ford mustang #boss 302 #MUSTANG BOSS 302 #mustang

149 notes · View notes

seat-safety-switch · 1 month

Text

There's nothing more honest than working on an old pickup truck. Unlike today's pickup trucks, old ones are basically just a chunk of steel bolted to an engine and an axle. Anything you can do to them is basically in the spirit of the original factory workers, even more so if you're drunk and/or high on things that aren't futuristic research chemicals. They hadn't invented those yet.

Now, you might also think that old pickup trucks are expensive. Sure, running and driving ones with all of their body panels have been enjoying a resurgence lately. With all the cool old luxury cars, muscle cars, shitty jeeps, and base-model commuter cars hoovered into the selfish grasp of exploitative capital, it's only a matter of time until they come for the humble, working man's pickup truck that was abandoned at the bottom of some farmer's field when the distributor finally exploded, now getting shot at periodically by his grandkids.

There's a lot of old trucks out there, because "old truck" used to mean "vehicle I grudgingly drove in order to accomplish actual work." The moment they stopped being reliable, they were gotten rid of, or relegated to chicken-coop duty. And, back in the day, there were more people who did actual work than there were folks who pushed spreadsheets around.

Supply is on your side: you can still get a deal. And if your standards are low enough, the range of "a deal" becomes very wide indeed. If you ask professional car restorers and collectors, they tell you to get the "best truck you can afford." That makes sense: if your goal is to end up with a working or at least semi-attractive truck, you'll spend less money and maybe fewer divorces starting with a 5/10 rather than a 3/10. Me, I'm not that picky. I'll take a 0.5/10. I'm all about the process.

All this is to explain why I just came home with a 1952 Mercury M100 pickup truck that consists mostly of the serial number plate and the rear axle (which is seized.) I figure I just need to sit on this thing for a few years longer, until prices really go nuts, and then I'll be able to sell it to someone whose business card says "Excel Astronaut" for the approximate price of a two-bedroom condo. And in the meantime, I'll have a cool project to work on that I don't have to worry too much about. If you help me get this chicken out of here, I'll cut you in on the deal.

139 notes · View notes

axlhecksbasement6 · 8 months

Text

Alone | Axl Heck x fem!Reader

You were one of Sue’s long time best friends. The Heck family basically watched as you grew up. they watched you fall, they watched you cry, they’ve seen far more embarrassing things that even your family hadn’t seen.

It was Junior Prom and everyone had a date except for you and Sue.

”It’s okay!” sue said enthusiastically. “We can be each other’s date!”

”That’s a great idea, we can even have matching dresses! Yours can be pink and mine will be (fav color)!” You said with a huge smile. You grabbed your magazine and with Sue you two began to browse.

“This one is gorgeous!” She exclaimed pointing at the floor length gown.

”You have such a good eye!” You giggled.

If only you could stop time right there…

The next day you went back to the Heck residence.

”Hey Axl,” you smiled bashfully. You would never admit this to Sue but you had such a big crush on Axl since the 8th grade. Something about his jock, bad boy, long hair, aura made you want to kiss him.

”Hi,” he said nonchalantly. He grabbed a bag of chips and walked to his bedroom. You sighed defeatedly. You had been droppings hint to Axl that you want him to ask you yet he either ignored it or didn’t notice it.

”You should just ask him,” Brick said walking past you.

”What?!” You exclaimed nervously , “what would I ask him?”

”Everyone except for Axl knows. My mom and dad have a bet going on to see how long it takes for you to finally tell Axl,” Brick said nonchalantly.

”I’m not very good at hiding it am I?” You sighed.

”Nope! Even Sue knows, she just won’t say anything.” He grabbed his book before walking back to his bedroom.

You sat on the couch defeatedly, so everyone knew how hopelessly in love you are. “Idiot,” you mumbled.

Sue walked in the house squealing like a fangirl.

”Sue?” You said rushing towards her.

”Guess who just asked me to prom!” She asked. Your expression dropped.

”Who?” You asked trying not to sound disappointed.

”Darrin!” She squealed. You knew how much she liked Darrin and you always wanted to support your friends.

”That’s great!” You smiled and held her hands.

”I know! I’m so excited!” She jumped around causing her mom to walk out of her room.

”What’s all this noise?” She asked.

”Darrin just asked me to the prom!” Sue squealed excitedly.

You watched as Frankie’s expression drop, “What about (Y/n)?”

The realization hit Sue and she looked at you with an apologetic look.

”I’ll call Darrin and tell him I can’t go with him,” she tried to keep her optimistic expression but you knew deep down that she wanted to go with Darrin and not with you.

“It’s okay, go with Darrin. I insist you go with Darrin,” you smiled holding her hands again.

”Really?” She asked and you nodded.

”I know how much you wanted Darrin to ask you and I would be a terrible friend if I robbed you from it.” You smiled. Even though deep down you were sad and disappointed. “But, this means you have to get a pretty and unique dress for prom!”

”OMG! You are so right! We should go dress shopping! The three of us!” Sue excitedly said jumping up and down.

”Yeah! We have to pick the prettiest dresses!” You smiled clapping your hands.

”Can you take us mom? Please!!” Sue begged.

”Okay, okay. I’ll take you two dress shopping,” she smiled. You and Sue squealed in excitement and rushed to her bedroom to do more magazine looking.

The day finally came and Mrs. Heck took the two of you dress shopping. You three went to at least ten different shops and tried on at least 30 dresses per store.

“I hate this one!” She exclaimed rushing back to the fitting room.

”You looked adorable!” Frankie shouted only to get a frustrated grunt from Sue.

You stepped out wearing a floor length (color) dress.

“Oh. My. God. You look absolutely gorgeous in that!” She said watching as you did a small runway walk.

”I love this one so much!” You smiled excitedly. “It’s in my budget too!”

“It is so gorgeous!” Mrs. Heck gave you a wide smile.

”I’m getting it,” you said walking back to your fitting room. Sue tried on three more dresses before finding the perfect dress for her. She couldn’t stop twirling and bowing like a princess. You check dress shopping off your list.

Prom night arrived and still you didn’t have a date. You put on your best smile and walked to Sue’s house. You saw Darrin’s car parked on their driveway and you felt a sick feeling in your stomach. It dawned on you that you’re a third wheel. You stopped outside the front door and debated wether you should go in or not. You sighed and walked in.

”(Y/n)! You’re here!” Sue exclaimed happily walking up to you.

”I sure am!” You smiled happily.

”You two look gorgeous!” Mrs. Heck smiled. She pulled out the camera and took pictures of you and Sue, Sue alone, Sue and Darrin, and the three of you. The sick feeling never left your stomach.

”Let me get one if you (Y/n),” Mrs. Heck smiled. You awkwardly stood there as Mrs. Heck took a picture. You couldn’t help but feel sad. You’re going to be the only one there without a date, you’ll be third wheeling with your childhood best friend. “You look beautiful.”

You smiled at her the best you could.

”We should get going!” Sue said happily grabbing your hand.

”Actually, I think I’ll drive myself to prom,” you smiled. “You and Darrin deserve a grand entrance!”

“Are you sure?” Sue asked and you nodded.

”I insist,” you smiled holding her hand again. She smiled at you, waved good bye to her mom wand excitedly walked with Darrin.

”Do you want a ride?” Frankie asked and you shook your head.

”My dad left the nice car for me, I’ll make my grand entrance,” you smiled at her. “I should get going or I’ll be late and not the cool kind of late.”

”I want a lot of pictures,” Frankie smiled and you nodded. You walked out of the house and stood on their porch. You began to walk back home and the tears began to fall. You couldn’t help it at the point. You couldn’t help but feel defeated. Even though you suggested it you wished that maybe Sue would come back, ditch Darrin, and go to the prom with you. You arrived at home and realized you didn’t have your house keys. You repeatedly knocked on the door before realizing your moms car was gone.

You sighed defeatedly once more. You began to walk to school. You and Sue used to walk together but now she gets a ride from her brother or her boyfriend. The tears began to fall again. You were happy for Sue yet you felt like you were missing out.

The heels began to hurt your feet. You stopped and took them off.

“Stupid heels,” you whispered. You hated the concrete floors and the sound your feet made when it hit the floor. After 15 minutes you arrived at school. You watched as the couples entered the building with huge smiles on their faces.

You put on your heels and walked inside the building. You looked around and saw Sue happily dancing with Darrin, a smile crept to your face. You walked around a little and watched the couples.

You walked to the desert table and grabbed a cupcake. You walked around again, a slow song began to play as the couples began to dance with each other.

Your heart dropped, you were alone. In a sea of couples you were by yourself. You felt tears again, you walked out of the gym and outside the building. No one was outside except for you.

You slumped down on the steps, you wanted to cry but you didn’t want to seem weak. You didn’t want someone to see you and laugh at you.

”Why aren’t you inside?” You heard that familiar voice. Axl. You quickly wiped away the tears before looking up.

”It was too crowded, I needed some air,” you smiled.

”Then why are you crying?” He asked. You looked away and shrugged.

”I wasn’t crying, something got in my eye and I was trying to take it out,” you mumbled.

”I can tell when you’re sad. We basically grew up together,” he said extending his hand. “You shouldn’t be out here on prom.”

You looked at him confused but held his hand anyway. You noticed his tux and smiled.

”Did your mom send you?” You asked.

”Yes and no,” he said.

”Yes and no?” You questioned and he nodded.

“I wanted to come, I just didn’t know if you wanted me to go. You and Sue were going so I thought it would be awkward for me to go to prom with my sister, then stupid Darrin asked her to prom. I just didn’t know how to ask you.” He explained and you felt your face heat up. “And then my mom told me to go, she said you looked sad and wanted me to go and cheer you up.”

”Tell your mom I said thanks,” you smiled and he nodded. You two walked back inside. Luckily the DJ was playing one more slow song.

”Can I have this dance?” He asked and you nodded. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heart beat. You felt like you finally weren’t alone. Like finally, you felt alive, you felt noticed, you felt like yourself again. Even though prom was short and not as magical as you expected it to be, you still had such a good time.

#axl heck one shots #axl heck imagines #axl heck #axl heck x fem!reader #axl heck x reader #orson #orson indiana #indiana #prom #romance #love

193 notes · View notes

gnrswife · 4 months

Text

Axl Rose Xfem!reader

warnings: smut

words:826

The music was loud, vibrating against the soles of your shoes that bounced against the hardwood floor. The disco ball spun above you, the light ricocheting of the walls, smoke filled the air and your lungs. Your best friend was dancing wildly in front of you, your back pressed to some girl who's hands held you tightly by the waist, your best friend moved closer and placed her hands on your shoulders. The three of you moved in sync, you could feel the eyes of the others around you.

Some looked on in disgust but most looked on in lust, especially Axl. He knew his eyes should be on his girlfriend, your best friend. But he found them wandering to you, letting his eyes roam your body. He had to readjust himself multiple times at the sight of your thick ass pressed tightly to someone's body, he had the urge to replace her with himself but he knew that would cause a shit fight.

"You're looking at the wrong girl" slash tutted, his own eyes drank in your outfit. Neither of the boys could keep their eyes off you, the way your tight black dress hugged every curve of your smooth body. "She's so fucking hot!".

Axl nods in agreement, he can't find the words to say. He's so obsessed with you right now, he can't look away. He's imagining the way you taste, the way you feel, the way you would moan his name when he filled your tight cunt with his cock. "I gotta ask her to dance" slash states, Axl hand is quick to grasp his wrist. Pulling him back down onto the couch, with one look Slash nods understanding you had been marked, even if he already has a girlfriend. No one was to touch Axl Rose's girl.

Your best friend pulls away, holding her hand to her mouth.

Eyes wide she darts out of the crowd, you follow closely behind. You find yourself in the bathroom holding her hair back as she throws her insides up into a ceramic bowl. "I feel like shit".

You let out a laugh and grab a cloth, running it under the cold water you bring it over to your best friend and dab her face. "Let's get you to bed yeah?" She nods and lets you walk her out of the bathroom and down a hall, moments later you're tucking her into Axl's bed and heading back to the party.

Your back on the dance floor, throwing back your drink and getting back into the music. You don't take notice when a body stands behind you, strong hands pulling you close.

You're used to people dancing on you, with you. You didn't mind the attention, you just liked to dance and let loose.

"You look so fucking sexy".

Your heart skips a beat and you're quick to put the voice to the face, his breath is hot on the tip of your ear. You know you should pull away but you let him flatten his palm to your stomach, helping you move your hips against his. "Do you know how fucking hard it's been for me to watch you and not touch you?"

You shake your head, his hands brush down the length of your arms. Lacing his fingers with yours only to pull them up and around his neck, the angle gives him a nice view down your dress. His cock hardens even more within his leather pants , he presses himself tighter against you. You can feel him between your ass cheeks, subconsciously you bend just slightly.

"Naughty girl" he groans, holding tightly onto your waist. He slips one hand up the length of your stomach and palms your breast over your dress, a soft moan slips from your lips. "You like me touching you?"

"Please Ax... I like it" your voice is too quiet over the sound of the music but your body is answering his question. Your hands slip from his neck, bending over even more and placing your hands to your knees.

He clenches his jaw, he could slip his cock out and fuck you right here, infront of everyone. Give them a real good show, let them see your heavy tits bounce as he pounds you on the dance floor. "So desperate for me sweet girl" he chuckles, his fingers lock around your hair and pull you up straight, a sharp sting runs down the back of your neck. He presses your body against his own. He begins walking you out of the dance floor, only a few eyes on the two of you. slash watches on in jealousy, imagining himself behind you instead. "Erin is in your room" you find yourself saying as he walks the two of you down the hall you had been down not too long ago, his chuckle is deep and it vibrates against your back. "Did you hear-"

"I heard you"

He opens the door to his room and pushes you inside, your eyes falling to your best friend who's passed out in the bed.

The dim light from the lamp in the corner casts a shadow of the two of you over her sleeping frame.

You turn quickly but meet his chest, he grips your jaw tightly and your eyes widen at the harshness. "You want to be a slut and let me touch you on the dance floor... well you can be a good little slut and let me fuck you next to your best friend".

You grip his wrist and pull, he chuckles again and pushes you towards the bed, the back of your knees hit the bed and you use all your strength in your calves to stop yourself from falling onto the mattress.

"Are you going to be a good girl?"

Your mind is racing, you've wanted to fuck Axl since you met him. You've always wanted to be in your best friend's shoes, you wanted Axl for yourself. But you let her have him because she called dibs first. "Answer me"

"Yes... I'll be a good girl"

"That's what I thought"

His lips are on yours before you can change your mind, his tongue slipping between your open mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer, he tastes the way you expect him to. Whiskey and cigarettes, it's intoxicating. You can't get enough of him, he also can't get enough of you. His hands are roaming your body, squeezing and kneading the flesh of your hips. In one swift movement he yanks the top of your dress down, your breasts spill out in an almost slow motion movement. "So fucking perfect".

He grabs a handful and kneads, pinching and rubbing your hardened nipple between his fingers. Your back arches pushing your chest closer to him, his mouth envelopes your nipple. "Oh fuck"

Your legs turn to jelly and your bum hits the mattress, your body frozen as your best friend turns in her sleep. Axl doesn't let up his assaults on your tits, his face buried between the two. Your heart is racing, scared she will wake up and catch the two of you. "Don't worry about her... look at me".

You turn your head, he slips his shirt over his head. Your fingers are running down the length of his stomach, staring at his hard pecs. "Like what you see?"

"So much. I like it so fucking much"

His palm meets your throat and he pulls up from the bed.

"Shit.. I knew I should have fucked you when I met you"

He drops his hand from your throat and steps back, unzipping his shorts as his eyes roam your body. You're not sure where this new found confidence comes from, you're pushing the thought of your best friend to the back of your mind. Stepping over you sit on the ottoman at the end of the bed, scootching back just enough.

"What are you doing?" He questions, he's standing naked and proud in front of you.

Watching every movement you make, his cock is hard and bobbing as he steps towards you. "Touch me".

You part your knees dropping your legs wide, his eyes zone in on your wet pussy. "Fucking hell".

He can't believe the sight in front of him, he's sure he's died and gone to heaven. Your pussy is perfect, arousal leaks from your tight hole. He drops to his knees in front of you when you reach down and spread your lips for him, his hand gripping your wrist before you can push a finger in. "Your going to fucking kill me".

He's breathing in the scent of your cunt, pressing the palms of his hands to the back of your thighs and pushing them to your chest. Your breasts pressed tightly against your legs, both holes staring him in the face. You clench when he flattens his tongue out and runs it up the length of your pussy. "Holy fucking... SHIT!" You cry out, head thrown back as he devours your pussy. He's sucking hard on your clit, pushing two of his large fingers inside of your hole. "Oh god Ax... so fucking good.. yes oh yes just like that!"

He pushes in a third finger, spreading you wide for him. Your arousal coats his lips and hands, it's everywhere, you're making such a mess on him. His cock is throbbing, pre cum stains the floor, his fingers are pounding in and out of you with such force your back hits the mattress and causes your

best friend to stir again. "Yes yes oh yes harder.. fuck! Ax I need your cock. please please give me your cock" your begging, tears are spilling from your eyes.

"Such a needy little slut... can't be patient can you"

"No no I can't Axl, please... I need you"

With one swift moment he's pulling you down onto his cock, he's stretching you wide. An almost burning sensation hits you but is quickly swept away with the rough thrust of his hips. He wraps an arm around your waist and brings you up to the bed, your eyes meeting your best friends closed ones.

"Look at me"

His hips thrust deep and hard, your brain feels like it's floating in water "I said look at me!"

He grabs your chin and pulls your head, you stare up at him as he fucks you into the mattress. You reach up to hold onto his shoulder blades "fuck Ax... you feel so good".

"That's it sweet girl... taking my cock so well. Your pussy is mine. Do you understand me? Mine... your mine."

"I'm yours Ax....only yours.."

"That's right... fucking your best friends boyfriend hmm, how are you gonna tell her? How are you gonna tell her l only want this pussy and not hers"

The bed shakes under you, your breasts pressed firmly against his chest. He pulls out of you and spins you around, nudging his knee between your legs. You lean down on your elbows and push your bum out for him, he slips back inside of you. "Should we wake her?"

You shake your head, biting down on your lip as he slips into you. His heavy balls hitting against your sensitive clit, he leans over you slightly leaving kisses on your back. "Go on...moan my name into her ear. Wake her up”

Again you shake your head, his fingers pull at your hair until your back meets his chest, one hand palms your breast while the other toys with your clit. "Come on baby girl... I can feel your sweet little cunt clenching around me.. you close?"

"Mhmm"

Your cock drunk, arousal soaks your inner thighs and the bed. The sound of your skin slapping fills the room and your gobsmacked it hasn't woken her up yet, you can't hold onto your moans anymore. He's pounding your sweet post so hard you're sure you'll squirt. "Fuck your doing so well.. a little louder".

Your toes are curling, body sweating, the familiar white spots appear in your vision. The butterflies in your belly are fighting hard, you are squeezing so tight around him he pushes you back down onto the bed.

Pressing the side of your face into the mattress as you cum around him. Your screams and moans are muffled by the duvet, your body shakes as he chases his relief. He's quick to pull out of you and cum on your ass, clenching your hips as he jerks the last of his cum out.

Your body trembles as your orgasm begins to fade and the realization of what just happened settles in, you notice your hand is holding onto your best friend's leg and she still hasn't woken.

"What the fuck did I just do".

A/N: i never know who to write about anymore

132 notes · View notes