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#he should get to do it like once a month or something. i don't care its so important
kaliforniahigh · 2 days
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I decided to write a HC about Noah dating a girl with ARFID (Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder)
This is solely based on my experience. Even though I'm not professionally diagnosed, all the evidence and my selective eating points to ARFID.
And I just know he would be the sweetest.
Let's start with the first date. They were always nerve-wracking for you, because he told you he would be picking the place. But what if it had no options for you?
Other dates had gone south because of this. You hearing things along the lines of "why are you such a picky eater?" "you're an adult, you should eat everything!"
It goes without saying you've been out of the dating scene for a while. But something told you that Noah was different. He was very kind and caring, it was difficult for you to picture him being an asshole to you like the other ones.
Once you get to the restaurant, you start to scan the menu, hoping he isn't one of those people who like to order for each other.
Salmon, fish, oyster... as you keep reading, the fear gets worse and worse, because sea food is really NOT your thing.
But then you get to the kids menu and your eyes finally land on the chicken and fries plate.
Noah obviously notices this, and he obviously thinks he fucked up because why the hell would he not ask you if you liked sea food before picking the restaurant??
"You don't like sea food, do you?" He asks with a shy smile.
"It's not that I don't li-" "You can say you don't like it, it's totally fine, I won't be upset or anything" so you tell him that it's actually not your preferred food.
He stands up from his seat and extends his hand for you to take "c'mon, let's go eat something we're both going to enjoy. I'm not gonna let us have a shitty first date"
You're honestly shocked, because he is going out of his way to make sure you enjoy tonight.
The months pass and he notices habits you have. Like pushing aside some things on your plate, or checking your burger to see if everything is ok. And he really wants to ask, but he doesn't know how. And he doesn't want to offend you.
The day he really can't help it is when he invites you backstage to a show he is performing. In the rush that is everything before a concert, he really doesn't notice you don't eat anything from the catering table.
You give him a kiss for good luck and take your place side stage to watch him.
Towards the end of the concert, he notices you're gone. But he just thinks it's a bathroom break or something of the sort.
He thanks the fans, they throw the towels and guitar picks and he heads backstage when someone stops him. "Hey, man. You should check on Y/N, she doesn't seem like she's very well"
He frowns and runs to where you are, noticing that you are, in fact, very pale, your hands are shaking and cold.
"What happened, baby?"
"I just need to eat something, I'll be fine"
"When was the last time you ate? Here, we have food around here, grab a plate" He starts to look around but notices you're not on the same wavelength as he is with this.
So you have no other option but to tell him. The hard time you had as a kid, the never eating from the school cafeteria, or your parents not being able to go to restaurants because you don't eat anything there.
The patronizing looks you got when you told people you don't eat hot dogs. Or soup. Or sushi. Or sea food.
After this, he always makes sure he walks around with a safe snack for you. He calls hotels to make sure they have safe options for you to eat for breakfast. Checks every restaurant menu beforehand. Talks to his tour management about food options for the catering they have.
But he also encourages you to eat different things. So he always buys things he thinks you're going to enjoy. He says it's a win-win situation, because if you don't eat it, then he can have it himself.
I would like to write more on this topic, so if you have suggestions, you can send them!
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Shout-out to everyone who survived a "fun" easter with the family
#fucking hell#it started with finding out my dad smoked in my car when I picked up my sister#who was equally dreading the day#my mum turns into the world's tensest and judgemental presence. worsened by my aunt#then hell for autistic people (of which there are multiple present)#multiple deaf people means one uninspired conversation that isn't interesting in any way.#combinations of passive aggressiveness and people not saying a thing because they can't participate. voice volumes too damn high#weirdass food situations. Very full table. so many smells.#this goes on for over an hour. wishing for literally anything but being there. soul crushing.#then you still have to sit in that room for 2.5 hours. it just goes on and on.#my autistic deaf dad physically looks like how I feel. my mum and aunt keep piling on top of him to demand his mental presence#i leave the room once (to get my phone to show pictures to my uncle) and am immediately followed upstairs by my mum#who demands I don't leave the room (What's next. following me when I need the toilet?)#me and my sister are so bored we start throwing paper planes and fake fighting.#Which amuses the bored and the deaf#but of course my mum and aunt have opinions and this is not allowed. only soul crushing boredom allowed#they complain to each other over it while aggressively doing dishes#finally it ends because my mum and aunt start insisting my dad should go to bed if he's 'that tired'. *sprinkle on some additional ableism*#still sitting through a conversation about allergies one of my sister's friends has. my mum preaching that people should take that seriously#(meanwhile i had to cook for myself for 9 years because when my allergies were really bad no one bothered to check if i could eat something)#me and my sister go sit upstairs to discover our mum has made things we care about vanish in her room#and made things appear that should not be there#I've washed the interior of my car and hope the smell will go#you think it's over after that. but woke up with the realisation that even more things have disappeared from my sister's room.#i can't remember a time when things left outside of my room didn't disappear#I don't know why we do these family gatherings at all. no one has fun on days like that.#the housing crisis isn't making these things easy. my sister is losing her place to live again as well#she'll go hiking for a month and then work on a campsite over the summer#maybe I'll go house sitting again. idk.#can't make commitments a few months in advance like that because I'll cancel everything the second Sparks announces anything important
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msdk-00 · 2 years
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i really don't understand how one can have a close friendship where the other person doesn't open up or be vulnerable at all
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steelycunt · 2 years
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a thought ... remus making sirius jealous on purpose . for a laff <3
literally as is his birthright
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sttoru · 3 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you’ve been one of sukuna’s many concubines for quite a while now. yet, you still cannot get rid of the jealousy in your system whenever he interacts with the other women in his harem.
wc. idk around 1 to 2k
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (hurt to comfort), fluff, suggestive at the end. heian era. you call sukuna ‘my lord’. reader gets called ‘brat, little girl’. size difference. no part2, don’t ask i beg. not beta read.
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“get back here, brat,” sukuna raises his voice as he follows you. he isn’t one to care about others’ emotional outbursts, yet here he is, chasing you after you’ve poured out your heart to him.
you don’t know why you’re this upset. you do know, however, that it’s childish of you to walk away mid dinner. you should’ve just stayed seated and refuse to let the thoughts consume you.
now you’re speed walking down the hallways of the estate—your legs carrying you as fast as they can without actually making a run for it. your mind keeps replaying the ‘unsettling’ scene that caused you to flee.
you remember it vividly. the sound of sukuna’s low, amused chuckle. how intrigued it was because of something another concubine told him—how he stopped chewing to say something back to her. which he rarely does.
hell, you’ve never seen him laugh around his other concubines.
“i do not wish to talk to you right now, my lord,” you reply, voice raised so the distance wouldn’t make it a hassle for the king of curses to hear you. you know that feisty attitude of yours entertains sukuna to no end.
he raises an eyebrow once he’s heard your voice; how it’s dripping with envy and hurt. you’ve never reacted like that before—at least not in his presence. it made him want to figure out why and how.
though, he can easily guess the reasoning behind your sudden defiance.
“oh, that so?” sukuna hums. he’s lenient with you this time around. he could catch up to you in under a split second, but he decides to give you that sense of accomplishment first before completely destroying it. he walks after you slowly, your fast steps being the same tempo as his slow pace.
you don’t answer. you’re stubborn. you have no right to feel jealous. you are a fairly new concubine—only a couple months ago did you join sukuna’s harem. yet, the time spent with him was precious.
he treats you differently. everyone notices that. everyone tells you the same. you know he does by the way he lets you off the hook with most stuff you say and do.
you don’t know what you did to gain his favouritsm, but it’s addicting. his attention is addictive. real addictive.
you had sworn not to develop any unneccessary feelings for that ruthless sorcerer. but, with the way sukuna treated you so gently behind closed doors, it was impossible not to.
you eventually reach the doors to your chambers. you slide them open and wish to close them behind you, only for a big hand to halt those movements. you freeze in place and refuse to look up at the owner of that said hand.
“look up,” sukuna demands. his voice causes goosebumps to appear on your arms, but you still don't budge. he clicks his tongue. that’s your first warning. two more and your punishment will be carried out, “we can do this the hard way too if you want.”
you turn your head, your fingers curling around the material of your kimono. you really should not feel this way about a little interaction between sukuna and his other concubine. that is none of your concern. what he does with those other women is none of your concern.
and yet. . .
“i don't want to,” you retort. sukuna walks into your room with a sigh. each step he takes forwards, you take backwards. your back finally bumps against the wall next to your bed.
sukuna towers over you, his tall and big frame making you feel vulnerable. especially with the way those red eyes of his are staring down at you. he crosses all four of his arms before speaking.
“tell me what’s running through that head of yours,” sukuna inquires sternly. he isn’t playing around anymore, you can tell. you glance the other way—knowing that he will laugh at you the moment you tell him why you’re upset.
you have a feeling he knows the reason behind your tantrum anyway.
“it’s nothing of importance, my lord,” you shake your head and relax your tense shoulders to make you seem less upset. your words have some truth in them—you don’t think your feelings of envy hold any value to him.
sukuna sighs again. he’s trying his best not to be annoyed at you. you’re his favorite and he wishes not to sadden you any further. he steps forwards, one hand moving to cup the side of your face.
his rough fingers play with a string of your hair, “i’m not stupid, little girl. i don’t like it when my woman is in distress.”
your heart skips a beat. this is what confuses you—how he can go from stern to gentle and vice versa. it’s surprisingly unexpected, which makes you long for more. even if his behaviour is confusing.
you look up at sukuna. your eyes meet for the first time in a good couple minutes. the corner of sukuna’s lips curls up into a satisfied smirk. that’s one step closer to getting you to open up.
“now,” the king of curses lowers his head to your eye level, the proximity all the more nerve wracking. he holds your jaw super tightly out of the blue. it makes you whimper.
“spit it out.”
there it is. the duality of the man strikes once more. you swallow the spit that’s been building up in your mouth. you bite your bottom lip lightly, trying to gather and form the right words to explain yourself.
sukuna wouldn’t understand. he’s a cold-hearted man who doesn’t care about such ‘trivial’ matters. he’ll just call you stupid, pathetic or whatever other derogatory term.
you stop your thoughts for a moment.
“it’s really just a stupid thing,” you mutter. your fingers curl around sukuna’s wrist—the one hand he’s using to firmly hold your jaw. you take a deep breath in, “i did not like it when you, errr. . . when that woman talked to you at the dinner table.”
your voice is clearly dripping with jealousy. pure, pure jealousy. and for what? because he talked to his other concubine. you feel stupid. you thought you discarded your personal feelings for the sorcerer before you the moment you turned into one of his many women.
“that woman?” sukuna tilts his head, feigning ignorance. that little grin on his face tells you enough. he’s playing with you like some form of entertainment. well, technically you are.
he wants you to be specific. he’s forcing you to be by acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.
in all honesty, sukuna’s already forgotten what that woman had said to him. it wasn’t and still isn’t worth remembering. all he can recall is your adorable facial expression when you saw him interact like that with his other concubine.
that little frown on your face was priceless. it makes him want to keep teasing you.
“you know who i am talking about, my lord,” you huff, trying to look away, but get stopped by sukuna readjusting his grip on your jaw. he firmly yet gently taps your cheek once and you know what it means.
“attitude,” sukuna warns with a quick hiss. he can let you say whatever you want to him, but you also have some limits regarding which tone you use with him. you apologise quietly under your breath.
the king of curses nods in satisfaction before releasing the grip on your jaw. his large hand trails down to your neck, thumb rubbing up and down your throat, “so, my little girl is mad at me because i talked to another concubine of mine, huh?”
you nod mindlessly. sukuna can easily get you to comply with him—to obey his every word, simply with his actions. the terms of endearment he uses are the cherry on top. they slip off his tongue so easily with you.
“tsk tsk,” sukuna shakes his head. his hand is now on the back of your head, fingers tangled into your hair. he’s staring down at you with a smug expression. he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, “how childish of you.”
you knew that would be one of the things he’d say to you. what you didn’t expect is for him to go for a kiss right after. his lips land on yours firmly, and to no surprise, you instantly return the gesture.
your arms wrap around his neck—your chest pressing against his. sukuna wastes no time in picking you up and letting your legs encircle his waist. he’s not pulling away for air to breathe and you don’t either.
“you’re going to listen to me, yeah?” sukuna murmurs between passionate kisses. he’s holding onto you tightly with two arms, his free hands roaming over your body whilst he pins you against the wall.
when you whimper out a weak, high-pitched ‘yes, my lord’, he smirks against your mouth before turning to kiss your neck. he slightly bites the skin to make sure you’re paying attention to him.
“i don’t remember what that woman said,” sukuna continues, nearly out of breath because of the kisses he’s leaving all over you. he easily grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head on the wall, “i was too busy lookin’ at a much prettier concubine of mine.”
he pulls back a little so he can look you in the eyes. you’re panting and embarrassed by what he just said. one of his hands finds your face again, tracing the shape of your mouth.
“my favourite,” sukuna whispers whilst licking his lips. you can see it in his eyes: he’s silently planning out how he’s going to remind you of your place. your place as his favorite concubine.
he dips his head back down, aiming for the valley between your breasts. he closes his eyes before sucking on the surrounding flesh;
“guess i’ll be nice for once ‘nd show you just what it means to be my favorite so that you’ll never dare forget it again.”
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bluerosefox · 9 months
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Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!
"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."
Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.
"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"
But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.
"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"
An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)
"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"
"...Losers bet...."
Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.
"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."
He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.
Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)
"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"
Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.
Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.
"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."
"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."
"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."
"Talia."
Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.
So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.
It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...
Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.
After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.
And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.
He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...
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understandableparadox · 2 months
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a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.
quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.
oh and spoilers. i guess.
the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.
the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.
the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.
the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds
the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.
the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".
having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.
don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.
if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.
pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.
there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.
this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.
this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.
13. Charlie:
(see what i mean about that red thing?)
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as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.
her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice
its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.
character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.
now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.
she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?
14. Vaggie
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why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?
I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.
she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.
i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.
christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way
15. Alastor.
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God Damn
where to start.
"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?
his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.
tumblr sexy man bait
he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.
his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.
his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.
he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.
personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.
im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.
16. Angel Dust
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what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.
all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")
I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.
not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.
i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.
same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.
17. Carmilla carmine
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are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?
Big Yoai Hands
ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.
A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-
her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.
i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.
18. cherri bomb
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that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt
decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.
19. egg boiz
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absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.
20. Emily
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im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character
does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie
We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.
good contrast with the other angels on screen.
Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???
21. Husk
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keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?
one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.
has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.
huge potential, little pay off.
22. lillith
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I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.
alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.
23. lucifer morningstar
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no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.
few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.
would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.
that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.
24. Adam.
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alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.
I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up
I fucking hate his mask
We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.
25. Niffty
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again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.
token straight
keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization
you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?
26. Sir Pentious
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the secret season one redeemed.
the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.
essentially a child after the first episode.
actually a snake which i appreciate.
no where near steampunky enough.
27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.
28. Valentino
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gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED
only a moth some of the time.
sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.
it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.
29. Vox
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legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.
propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.
why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?
same body shape as literally every other male character.
tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.
30. Valvette
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the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".
apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.
apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias
we know so much about her from things outside of the show.
was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.
im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.
but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.
this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.
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kalims · 4 months
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kiss your best friend | diasomnia
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kiss your best friend and see how they react!
parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven
characters. malleus, lilia, sebek, silver
content. gender neutral reader as usual, mentions of murder by lilia's cooking, someone faints lol
note. finally last part after ten years /j
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malleus
goes absolutely silent but his surprise is definitely there -> eyes widen, brows raise on a miniscule scale. you'd think the guy would be all lowkey about his joy but five seconds later and there are comical sparkles surrounding his face.
I mean. you had to formally confirm that you two were friends before, and you had off-handedly linked his name and best friend in the same sentence a few months later (he was bursting for like a week.) and now all that?
thrown away, nu-uh. you two are NOT friends no more, he doesn’t have a single care in the world. he's throwing the friends label off a cliff with his foot and skipping off with joy cause you just got upgraded to the next ruler of briar valley wink wonk.
or perhaps you'd like being referred to as his consort? he can always make the people refer to you as both.
if you're wondering why he's so silent all of a sudden; malleus: already thinking of how he'd decorate the castle when you move in with him. maybe... he can break down the wall to link your two bedrooms together—wait no he'd very much like to share the same room instead..
"child of man, do you prefer violet or green?"
"uh... green...?"
"excellent choice, you have my gratitude."
the thing you should be asking is 'why' because it's either the main color theme of your wedding or the gem he'd engrave on your ring (he's very happy it's green though, since it'd be a constant reminder of him.. oh he knows! he should get his a color of your eyes too—)
someone stop him.
lilia
spiderman kisses spiderman kisses spiderman kisses spiderman kisses
more knowledgeable than malleus about the level up of relationships so he doesn't jump from best friends to newlyweds immediately. actually he doesn't even need a label, if you're going around kissing him he's just gonna act like you two are a married couple without a confirmation on your status'
"darling, could you hand me the sugar?"
"lilia, I hope you know that you're supposed to use salt for the sauce not sugar." <- *passes the right bottle*
ignoring lilia's attempts on lives he acts pretty normal.
ahem, besides the fact that your first kiss on him has made him come to the conclusion that he can now incorporate kisses in your daily routine since you've already done it, so apparently that means he can too.
kiss him once, he kisses you thrice I guess. it's either the occasional jumpscare from the ceiling since he felt like reminding you of his love through a pack or the times you blink and feel a sensation against your lips without seeing anything cause his affection can be silent as it is loud you suppose.
pov student you were speaking to who definitely saw that but you didn't midst your blink: 😨—
"lilia are we dating."
"i suppose it would make us more official like you humans like, so of course~"
he just accepts it without any complaints, just announce you're spouses and he'll accept that too probably.
#chill
silver
if we have spiderman kisses surely we can have the sleeping beauty kiss?
sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses sleeping beauty kisses
I reckon he would be a pretty light sleeper though the quantity of his sleep is more often than not so even though he accidentally passes out a lot he's really easy to wake. trained to be vigilant and all, courtesy of his murderous father (well, murderous through food?)
he knows the weight of certain things. a blanket draped over him, the feeling of something squirming on his shoulder—a squirrel, most likely. something on his head, a bird or some other critter. but this?
a light press on his lips, gone as quickly as it came. that, he isn't sure of. the animals don't tend to linger around his face so the unknown origin of it has curiosity opening his eyes.
and boy, he is trying to find every reason to not believe that you didn't peck him.
perhaps they touched it? he furrows his brows lightly, attempting hard at trying to avoid your gaze because he feels guilty at his first assumption, you're his best friend! you wouldn't do such a thing..
"did you touch my lips?"
"nah, is it fine that I kissed you?"
"..."
"..."
*passes out*
is he dreaming?
sebek
in what scenario will sebek even let you near him? hmmm.. I suppose being 'best friends' (he calls you self proclaimed, and that you guys aren't that close but still rages over someone and hits them with an essay why you're so much better than their insults) makes you more tolerable around to be closer.
totally not the fact that he might have a crush on you, which can't be right cause he can't be capable of having feelings for a *gasp* human!
scandalous. he knows.
raises a brow when you do anything but be discrete with your intentions of shuffling closer but he doesn't really double back, okay. he's getting a little concerned now when you continue getting closer, he takes a step back not because you're near or anything but this behavior is... just strange.
you're in his face already and before he can question (loudly) what in the seven's name you're doing before you just casually peck him on the lips?
WHAT IN TARNATION!
stiffens up immediately, his face looks like it's holding in a yell. maybe that's why it's getting so red? he's just standing there with shoulders so tense he looks like he's trying to seem big.
"..." WHAT JUST HAPPENED. DID THIS HUMAN JUST.. NO, WE ARE MERELY BEST FRIENDS—are we even friends.. NO! THIS IS THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE ACT TO COMMIT. THIS HUMAN NEEDS TO KNOW BOUNDARIES. I mean he enjoyed that and all—I mean what..
"why are you so quiet."
if only you knew.
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landosjpg · 4 months
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fall back together | ln
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the one where your ex-boyfriend invites you to spend a few days with him, but you two still have feelings for each other.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~2.5k
warnings: pining, the tiniest bit of fluff i believe, language, smut, oral (f recieving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cockwarming
note: ehhh i don't really know how to feel about this but i wanted to post something, once again not proofread! also i have a looooong flight later this week so pls send in some requests so i can entertain myself during it! <3
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you and lando had dated for a little over two years when you decided to call it quits. it wasn't messy; you two had mutually decided to stay as friends. and for the few months that you had been just that, it had worked well so far.
that's why lando had decided to invite you over for the monaco grand prix, insisting that you should spend a few days prior with him so you two could catch up and spend some time together.
as friends, of course.
it took him a few days to convince you, but you finally agreed. and that's why you found yourself walking down the corridor that led to his apartment, suitcase in hand. you could hear his giggles already from the other side of the hall, the sound bringing a smile to your face.
as you opened the door with the keys that he had insisted you should keep after breaking up, for emergencies (even when you lived in a total different country), you heard him talking.
"hey, chat!" you heard him say. you should've guessed he would use his days at home to stream like he used to. "guess who's here!"
you smiled as you walked to the room he was in. the fans had always loved you; you saw the edits they made of your relationship, how everyone used to lose their minds over the way you two looked at each other when you decided to make an appearance on one of his streams.
utterly in love.
and of course, you saw how everyone couldn't believe it when he had announced the end of your relationship.
it's not like any of you had expected it either, but you knew it was for the best or the relationship would consume one of you. but you were happy you had managed to make a friendship work, not really wanting to lose lando. and of course, his fans were excited to see you again.
he turned his chair around as you entered the room, his smile widening as soon as he saw you. you walked his way, happily waving at the camera. normally, he would grab your waist and pull you into his lap.
but this time he didn't.
so you stood there, right next to his chair. and as much as you knew that was how things were, it didn't fell completely right to you.
"i think i'm gonna head to bed," you interrupted after a few minutes in which you talked with him and with the viewers, answering a few questions just like you used to do before everything went down.
but after a long flight and a taxi ride to his house, you felt exhausted and all you wanted was to lie down and call it a day.
lando reached to mute his mic before he could answer you, turning to look at your face as he spoke.
"take my bed, i'll sleep in the spare room," he said. you were certain that the fans would try to decipher what you were saying later, but you didn't really care.
you thought about what he was proposing. it would feel weird, sleeping in his bed without him, so you weren't really convinced about it. and he must had seen it in your face, because before you could say anything, he added:
"come on, y/n". you're tired and the spare bed isn't even made," he looked at you with soft, pleading eyes.
you knew he still wanted the best for you, so you sighed in defeat and accepted his offer with a nod of your head.
after saying goodbye to the chat, you left the room to get ready for bed. as you went through your daily night routine in the bathroom, you noticed how everything you had left there behore the break-up was still in its place.
it looked like you had never left.
you tried not to think too much about it, there could be multiple reasons why he had decided to keep all your stuff. he definitely had moved on, right? it had been months since you two ended things.
you brushed it off, not really wanting it to get to your head and then walked to his room. everything was just like you remembered. damn, he even kept some pictures of you on his wall.
with your pajamas on, you climbed into his bed and covered your body with the soft sheets, the smell of him quickly washing all over you.
you rolled around with a sigh, the bed feeling way too big now that he wasn't next to you to wrap hismself around you. you were unable to sleep as your mind filled with all the nights spent in that exact same mattress between laughs, kisses and endless conversations.
you missed the feeling of his arms around your waist, the sound of his snores and the warmth of his body enveloping you every night.
with your mind racing with all the memories that wouldn't leave your brain, you realized it had been hours since you got in bed when you checked the time on your phone. the house was completely silent by that moment, so you figured lando was already asleep.
you sighed and got up, wandering to the kitchen silentely to not wake him up, with the intention of making yourself a tea that would hopefully help you sleep.
୨୧
sat on the counter, you contemplated the city lights with a warm mug of tea in your hands. the only light that illuminated the kitchen was te one that came out of your room. lando's room.
you were lost in your own thoughts, so you didn't notice his figure walking towards you.
"is that seat taken?" his voice made you jump a little in surprise, swearing under your breath as you turned to look at him, simply shaking your head in response. "sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he added with a chuckle, sitting on the stool right next to you.
you didn't really know what to say, so silence fell between you two while you just stared at each other. despite of it being dark, you could appreciate his messy curls, the spark on his eyes and the sly smile that beautifully decorated his lips.
"can't slep?" his voice was low and tender as he brokw the silence.
"bed feels too big."
at your answer, he just nodded. he kept quiet for a few seconds, pensive, and you could see that he was wondering wheter what he was about to say was appropriate or not.
"you know, as much as it hurts... i'm happy that you're moving on," he finally broke the silence, his words hitting you like a truck.
"i'm not... what do you mean?" you asked in confussion, but your mind was more focused on the fact that the possibility of you moving on hurt him.
"i've seen the pictures."
despite of the sadness that his whisper hid, you knew he wasn't mad at you. he had always said that he wanted you to be happy, whether it was with or without him.
silly of him to think that anyone else could ever make you as happy as he once did.
"just a friend," you mumbled, knowing that he was talking about the guy in your latest posts. but he was nothing more than a friend to you, not even close. "not really my type," you joked, earning a little smile from his lips.
once again, the silence felt deafening as he didn't give you an answer. your nerves were starting to kick in and so, in an attempt to try and make it feel less awkward between you two, you gazed back to the window.
"do you ever miss me?" he whispered again seconds later, the simple question making you freeze.
the answer was easy: yes, like crazy. but you couldn't just say that.
as he waited for you to reply, you felt his eyes on you, curious about what you would answer. and you swore he could hear your heart racing in your chest.
"sometimes, yeah," you finally decided to give him the truth.
or part of it, because confessing that it hadn't been a day in which he didn't cross your mind at least twice a day made you feel too exposed and vulnerable.
you halted when you felt his hand creeping up your legs slowly, stopping when he reached your thigh.
"i miss you, too," his murmur sent you a shiver down your spine, and he was looking up at you from where he was sitting, with puppy eyes.
you knew damn well what those words meant, and you felt your heart breaking at your own answer.
" i don't think it's a good idea, lan," you murmured, not able to hold his gaze for long.
"i know", he uttered, and you felt him sigh, but his hand stayed in your leg. "i'm sorry."
when you heard his simple apology, you closed yout eyes and tried to keep your tears from falling down your cheeks, but you failed miserably.
you knew he was apologizing for not being his best self during the last weeks of your relationship. at first, you had tried to convince yourself it only was a rough patch, but it was burning you down.
and, when you asked him for some time, he agreed. he knew he hadn't been the best boyfriend to you during that time, and he hated seeing you suffer because of him. so he ultimately decided to set you free.
"i'll never take you for granted again," he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears that fell down your face.
you hadn't noticed that he had stoop up from the stool and positioned himself between your legs, but having him so close again made your heart feel warm. and you looked down, knowing that if your eyes met his green orbits you'd throw yourself back right into his arms.
"lan..."
"i swear, y/n," he interrupted you; you could see his eyes were also watery, tears threatening to come out as well, but he held them back as he kept talking. "i know i fucked up, but it won't happen again."
closing your eyes, you sighed. your fingers softly wrapped around his wrist as you kept silently crying.
"please," his whisper made you sob, wanting nothing more than to go back in time and never let go of him. "i promise."
as you took in his words, your hand slid to his neck and he rested his forehead against yours. your breaths were mixing together and you nodded your head slightly, giving him your final answer with that small gesture.
before you could think about it, his lips were on yours. soft, just as you remembered, and you could taste both your tears on his lips. he kissed you slowly, tenderly, as if he didn't want you to slip out of his fingers again.
and you knew he didn't.
"i've missed this," he sighed in between kisses, pulling you a little closer, his arms now wrapped around your waist. "i've missed you, baby."
at the sweet pet name that you never thought you'd be hearing from his lips again, you exhaled with a smile.
"want to join me in bed?" you asked in a whisper, your fingers softly brushing against the skin of his neck. you wanted nothing more than to sleep next to him again, so close that one would think you two were literally attached at the hip.
"you're inviting me to my bed?" he chuckled as his arms went lower on your body, pulling you closer and picking you up from the counter.
"our bed," you corrected him with a giggle of your own.
he planted a soft kiss on your lips and walked you back to his room, wrapped in his arms. he lied you down on the mattress gently, keeping his body over yours. your gazes locked for a few seconds before his lips attacked yours hungrily, the tenderness of the previous interactions now long gone.
your hands roamed all over each other's bodies, clothes soon flying everywhere as both your breaths got heavier.
he started trailing small, wet kisses down your breasts and torso, his hands carefully pulling your underwear down your legs. he spread your open for him and positioned himself between your thighs, looking up at you from the edge of the bed.
you slightly nodded, giving him permission to go on. a long sigh left your lips as soon as you felt his lips pressing a soft kiss on your sensitive bud, and your fingers instinctively got lost in his curls, urging him closer.
"you're so gorgeous, baby," he mumbled, his hot breath against your slick making you moan softly.
you felt his tongue flatten against you and he started licking your cunt as if he was starving. a smug expression plastered on his face when your back arched as his lips found your clit again and he sucked, fingers tugging on his hair.
"fuck, lando..." you stuttered, your legs closing around his head as you felt the knot on your lower stomach about to snap. a small groan escaped his lips, his hands gripping around your thighs, surely leaving small bruises on your smooth skin.
soon, the warmth of his tongue on your pussy felt too overwhelming and your orgasm didn't take long to wash over you, leaving you a moaning mess under his touch.
as you came down from your climax, he got rid of his boxers and hovered over you again, his lips finding yours once more. as you tasted yourself on his tongue, you hummed contently into the kiss, your fingers finding their wait to his curls again.
"you alright, love?" he gently asked, taking a minute to look into your eyes.
"need you inside of me," you panted, your legs hooking at each side of his body as you pulled him closer.
he locked his lips with yours as he teased your folds with his cock, both of you moaning into the other's mouth at the friction. he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside of you, letting you adjust to his size.
"so fucking tight for me, baby," his voice sounded breathless as he started thrusting into you without a hurry.
he took it slow, his movements almost lazy but deep.
and god, did it feel good.
you held each other tightly as he kept that slow pace that you two seemed to be enjoying. he reveled in the way your sweet moans filled the room and your nails drew crescent moons on his shoulders, your face contorting in pleasure as he stretched you out deliciously.
feeling your second orgasm starting to build up, your pussy clamped down on him, drawing him even deeper inside of you; which resulted in a low grunt from his lips.
"baby, i'm gonna... fuck..." you whimpered, unable to even form a proper sentence as the pressure in your lower stomach increased again.
"look at me, love," he groaned, and you did as he had asked.
with your gazes locked in each other's, it only took the two of you a few strokes to come undone, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him cumming inside of you and leaving you weak under his body.
he collapsed on top of you, a little winded as he left a sweet kiss on your lips before moving to lay down on the mattres, pulling you with him.
"i love you," he uttered, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as he kept his cock buried deep inside of you.
"i love you, lan," you mumbled, your face finding the spot between his jaw and his shoulder as you caught your breath, feeling yourself slowly drifting off to sleep with your nose nuzzled on his neck.
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1K notes · View notes
nyxiswrites1200 · 5 months
Text
🩵𝑺𝒂𝒎'𝒔 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍🩵
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Sam Winchester x Fem!reader
Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, Crushing, friends to lovers, pet names, Sexual tension, Mellow sexual thoughts, Size kink, p in v, nipple play, multiple rounds, oral sex, praise kink, aftercare
Mentions: She/her reader pronouns, Reader wears a skirt, Reader is implied to be shorter than Sam, Imagining early seasons Sam, Dean is present
"In a world of boys, he's a gentleman"
AN: uhh I know I died for like a month but supernatural brain rot is incoming. Sam girl for life <3 anyhow, happy holidays loves. This is so self-indulging, sorry babes.
----
Sam Winchester is an awkward man. He's so respectful he doesn't know what to do with himself sometimes. But don't mistake his sweet attitude for a lack of attraction.
When you bend over to pick his book up off the floor for him, he notices your skirt sliding up your thighs. He quickly looks away as he runs a hand through the back of his messy brown hair.
Sam always opens the door of the Impala for you when you join him and Dean on road trips. He notices the way you let your hand brush over his arm as you help yourself into the car. Dean just lets out a small laugh as he climbs into the driver's seat.
Sam watches you saunter around the motel room in his shirt. Under the claim that 'it's just more comfortable'. He loves the way your figure is swallowed up by his larger clothes.
Sometimes it was almost degrading how respectful he was. In truth, you were trying to get his attention. To catch him peaking under your skirt, getting hard from seeing you in his shirt, or him finally being pushed over the edge by your 'discreet' affectionate touches. You swore you were gonna have to climb in his lap and say "fuck me" for him to actually do it.
In truth, Sam wasn't oblivious to what you wanted. Rather he was too kind to give it to you. He thought you were so precious that he needed to deny you. Sleeping with you would be too personal, too intimate and he wouldn't be able to let go of you after.
Dean let out a small laugh, Sam and him were alone in the hotel room while you went to go get dinner for the three. "What, Dean?" Sam asked in his partially sassy attitude as he read through his book. "Nothing nothing...it's just funny watching her pawn for you. Think you might be hurtin' her feelings." Dean smirked as he looked over at his little brother. Sam sighed in response, knowing he could only be talking about you. "I'm not that stupid, I know what she wants...I just..." he ran a hand through his hair "I don't think I should". "Sammy" Dean inquires "Look, she knows what we do. She hasn't gone running yet and she's perfectly human, there's nothing dangerous about that girl" he chuckles. "I know you're afraid because of what happened but...I think this might be something worth risking".
Sam let Dean's words simmer in his thoughts all night. For once he might actually agree with his older brother.
The next night you and Sam were alone. You finally spilled, being brutally honest. Sam watched with a bit of shock as you admitted how you'd be pawning for him. All your actions had a purpose and how bad you wanted to be his girlfriend. You almost wanted to cry with how emotionally overwhelmed this made you trying to explain yourself.
"Lovely, I'm sorry..." Sam stands as he cups your cheek and tilts your head up to meet his gaze. "I know you want me but I was being selfish because I know if I...indulge myself in you, I won't be able to let you go ever again." he explained, his voice was so gentle and his eyes reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked at you. "Maybe...I'm a little selfish too" you chime in "I just...I wanna be yours so bad that I don't really care what happens".
Those words alone tumbled the tension between both of you over the edge. Sam's kisses were soft then heated and needy. He had you pushed against the motel wall while both of you discarded your clothes. His larger figure covered you as he kissed you desperately. His hands engulfed your hips as he gripped them.
Once you two were on the bed, his hands fondled your breasts, teasing your nipples between his fingers. His chest pressed into your back as he kissed along your neck. You reached back to tangle a hand into his hair.
Sam was so sweet but he was a fucking god in bed. He knew exactly where to kiss, fondle, and tease. Nothing but deeply slurred words of "How does that feel?", "You okay?", "Taking me so well, lovely", and "Good girl...". You went three rounds with him...
He rubbed your clit and toyed with your nipples, leaving kisses and sucking up your neck. You came on his fingers, feeling him stretch you open. You wanted to watch his strong hands fuck into you so bad.
He nestled himself between your thighs. His tongue lapping up your first orgasm. You watched as you tugged on his hair, noticing the dominant look in his eyes. His hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread as you squirmed beneath him. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked on it until he fucked his tongue inside you while you came again.
Then finally he fills you with his cock, only after making sure you were okay. He had you stuffed to the brim, grunts and moans leaving him with each thrust. He pressed his forehead against yours as he kissed your cervix with the tip of his dick.
When you came for a third time, he let you ride your high until he pulled out and finished on your stomach. A gentleman as always, not stuffing you with his cum on the first night. Even if you wouldn't have minded.
Sam carefully cleaned you up in the bath. Warm water envelops you both. He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder and gently rubbed your side as he cleaned you up. His actions are no longer lustful, this was just affectionate. "Did you enjoy yourself? Wasn't too much?" he asked softly, his expression back to looking like a puppy. "I'm fine, Sammy. It was perfect..." You smiled and kissed him softly.
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feninina · 9 months
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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷
therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K
𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓
𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁
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It was awkward, to say the least.
You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.
This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.
He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.
Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.
And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.
"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"
Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.
You were landing right in the palm of his hand.
Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.
Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.
You have everything. That was bullshit.
Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.
You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.
It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.
And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.
Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.
It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.
Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.
But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.
You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.
Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.
So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.
It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.
He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.
After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.
One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.
"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"
You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.
You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.
"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"
You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.
That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.
He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.
After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.
You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.
It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.
After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.
You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.
It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.
But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.
You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.
At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.
He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.
"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".
You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.
You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.
Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.
Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.
"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"
He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.
He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.
"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"
The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.
But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.
"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"
That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.
"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"
He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.
You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.
He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.
"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.
It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.
"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"
You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.
Bingo.
"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"
It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.
Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.
"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"
Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.
"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"
You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.
A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.
"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.
Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.
"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"
"To be fucked stupid"
It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.
A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.
"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"
He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.
But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.
It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.
His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.
But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.
You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.
“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”
You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.
“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”
You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.
“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”
And maybe he was.
Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.
Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.
You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.
“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.
You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.
He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.
“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”
“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”
You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.
“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.
Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.
He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.
You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.
He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.
“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.
“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”
You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.
“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”
You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.
With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.
“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”
A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.
“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.
You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.
You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.
“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”
He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.
“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”
You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.
Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.
“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”
Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.
“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”
“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.
You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.
“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.
It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.
“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.
You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.
The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.
He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.
But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.
He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.
“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.
You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.
“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”
You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.
“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”
“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?
“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”
You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”
“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”
His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.
But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.
He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.
He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.
“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”
You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.
“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.
In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.
You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.
“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”
“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”
He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.
Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.
“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.
“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”
You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.
“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”
“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”
Then you realized it.
When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.
That was your cure.
His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.
You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.
He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.
He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.
When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.
“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”
You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.
When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.
You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.
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thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)
taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist
if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻
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luveline · 7 months
Note
i lowkey need to see stripper!reader and spencer again
for you gorgeous ♡ fem
cw adult themes
Hotch and Spencer draw attention at the strip club for the same reason but in varied fonts. They're both reminiscent of your regulars, Hotch the picture of a businessman with a wife to forget and steam to blow, and Spencer the silent sweetheart, pretty but too shy to talk to normal girls. 
He doesn't need a normal girl when he has you. 
You're glad for your cover up clothes as you lean against the dressing room door. One of the bouncers peers at you from the corner of his eye. 
"Trouble?" he asks. 
"Not sure. Probably not." You wave until Agent Hotchner notices you. To your delight, he raises his hand politely. 
You step around the bouncer and bypass the stage to the lighter area of the club where they stand in wait. "Hello. I could've met you outside." 
"Would you?" Agent Hotchner asks. 
You don't need him to explain. It's not the most professional thing, loitering in a club like this. You follow them out of the club and onto the street, cold even in your sweatpants as the wind rails. Spencer lets you squeeze his fingers in greeting, but that's all. 
"It's nice to see you again, Agent Hotchner," you say honestly, giving him a smile. 
He doesn't return the pleasantry, but Spencer swears he's softer than he looks so you choose to run with it as Agent Hotchner says, "We need information on one of your patrons." 
"Tennis Lawley," Spencer adds. 
"Tennis," you repeat. "I thought my pseudonym was bad."
Spencer gives you a quick look. I'd laugh if I weren't at work, it says. "We think he's involved in a string of killings in Washington DC. What do you know about him?" 
It's not an exaggeration to say you've played therapist for Tennis and a ton of guys just like him. Being a stripper, an exotic dancer, whatever anyone wants to call it (though Spencer usually just calls it your work) has pros and cons. You've felt it to be heavier on the con side, but this is a big plus, being able to assist someone you care about with something important. It makes you feel useful for once, like you're more than the froth of the city. "Ask me anything," you say, hiding your cheek from the cold with a deft hand. 
Spencer and Agent Hotchner ask you all sorts of questions, personal to their suspect and less so, and for the most part you're able to answer them. You can tell from the look on Hotchner's face that he's both surprised and extremely satisfied by your knowing, and he emphasises his thankfulness with a touch to your upper arm before he says goodbye. "Your help is invaluable, Y/N, thank you." 
Spencer, your sweetheart, stays for a more thorough farewell. 
"Have you eaten yet today?" he asks, the hand you'd squeezed earlier leaping for yours. "You look tired." 
"It's getting close to midnight, Spence. I'm alright. You and Agent Hotchner should head home and rest yourselves…" You bring your hand to his cheek but think better of yourself, pushing your arm over his shoulder instead for a hug. His own arms contract around you immediately. "I miss you lately, where have you been?" 
"Everywhere. I miss you too," he says. Despite the months of knowing one another, and the many states he's seen you in, you know without looking that Spencer is blushing profusely. 
You kiss his cheek as your heels return to safe ground. "Come and see me again soon, okay? And bring your rich friends. The older one, Rossi, is he really a millionaire? A divorced one?" 
"Yes, he is," Spencer says with a laugh, his voice climbing higher, "but I don't think he's looking for another wife right now, sorry." 
"Maybe Agent Hotchner–" 
"Stop calling him that." 
You look Spencer straight in the eye, nearly caught off guard by how sweet and soft they meld at your touch where your hands linger in his. 
You often think that you and Spencer aren't meant to be. Your life, whether willing or unwilling, by choice or design, is entirely focused around your body, and Spencer's world revolves around his mind. You know that what you do for work isn't anything to be ashamed of, but you have the same doubts as anyone else. You know what people think of you. You wouldn't blame Spencer for thinking the same things. And you wouldn't expect him to want to be with you in any aspect that wasn't physical. 
But when he holds your hands in his like this, as though they're made of something delicate, something he wants to map every detail or by fingertip alone, you wish things were different. 
You clear your throat. "I really do miss you when you're away," you confess. 
"I'm sorry." 
"Don't be." Your hands miss his the millisecond you pull them away. "I guess I shouldn't keep you. Your boss will be wondering where you are." 
"Are you okay?" 
You can't even pretend it's a strange question; you're acting strange. "I'm fine, Dr. Reid. My nice new boss knows I know the feds, and all the girls are jealous of me when you guys come to visit. They think I'm on your payroll." 
Spencer quirks a puzzled frown, brows pulled together tightly. "You're harder to read than most people. Have I ever told you that?" 
"I guess it's 'cos I spend so much time pretending I'm a different person," you say, smiling to prompt him into smiling back. 
"Maybe." He pulls his bag from where it rests against his hip and opens it, rummaging through the contents with a confused murmur until he pulls out the shape he'd been looking for. "Here. Don't go to bed hungry, okay?" 
Spencer puts a protein bar in your hand. 
He steals a quick hug and leaves not long after that, crossing the dark parking lot to the mass of the dark SUV he arrives in. With one hand, you clutch the protein bar until it takes a new shape, and with the other you blow two sweet kisses, a cheesy, gaudy gesture that never fails to make your favourite special Agent blush. 
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ofstarsandvibranium · 15 days
Text
Precious Truths: Part 2
Fandom: Bridgerton
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader
Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.
Warning: physical assault - reader gets slaped on the face
Series Masterlist
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Your gaze reveals the precious truths
The beauty that you see within
The bravery that I once never possessed
Your love is strength
Your love is pure
Your love is everything
-Arthur Talbot
You set your quill back into the ink jar and lean back in your chair, letting the ink dry. It's well into the night. Your father and aunt now sound asleep in their respective bedrooms. You find that late nights like these are the best times to write. It's when the world is quiet and you can indulge in your guilty pleasure of writing poetry. You're sure that if your father were to ever find out about this, he'd cast you out.
So your secret remains. Some parts of you felt like you should at least tell Benedict, for he's your closest, and dearest friend. However, you thought best not to. If the ton were to find out, it would be the end of you and you could never be one to drag Benedict down with you.
You can never do that to the man you love.
____________________________
You're in the sitting room watching as stands at Benedict at his easel, Colin and Greggory play chess, and Daphne coos over Auggie. Benedict works on his still life as you sit close by.
He frowns, taking a step back from his painting, "This is wrong. It's-Something's missing."
You lean closer to get a glance at his work, "Benedict, it looks beautiful."
"Are you sure?" he asks with an unsure look on his face.
You stand up and take a better look at the canvas, "Don't you artists always say beauty is in the eye of the beholder?" you look at Benedict with a smirk and then back at the canvas, "What you may find as unattractive, Benedict, someone else might find alluring and lovely."
You pat his arm and then plop yourself back into the chair you previously occupied. You go back to your reading completely unaware that Benedict is looking at you with absolute love in his eyes.
He hears someone clear their throat and he looks away to see Anthony staring at him expectantly, "I'm sorry, brother. Did you say something?"
"We're all going for a promenade. I believe we've all been inside for long enough."
You stand up, "I shall take my leave then, Bridgertons."
"Or you can join us?" Benedict immediately asks with hopeful grin.
You softly shake your head, "I don't want to intrude."
"Nonsense," Kate says as she enters the room, "We're always happy to have you, Y/N," she joins her husband's side.
"Well, I can't reject you, Viscountess Bridgerton," you give Kate a smile and Benedict is confused, "So you have no problem rejecting me?"
You laugh, "I'm only jesting, Benedict. I'd love to accompany you and your family for a promenade."
"Wonderful, let's get to it then," Anthony says, trying to gather his siblings together.
_________________________
You're following Benedict's younger siblings whilst said man was walking beside you. You're walking in silence, but it isn't awkward. Silence in Benedict's presence is never awkward, but rather comforting.
"I've realized something, Y/N."
"Yes?"
Benedict keeps his eyes on you as you two continue to follow his younger siblings, "You've always been very supportive of my artistic prospects, but I don't believe I've given the same curtesy to you and your poetic writings. I recall you enjoyed writing them when we were younger."
It warms your heart knowing that Benedict remembers of the times you'd write whilst he'd paint or draw. You let out long and deep sigh. Looking ahead, you reply, "Yes, well, I've given up those dreams, I'm afraid. You know how my father is about my indulgence with poetry. I have to be very careful. Even reading it and reciting it to the ton is risky. Luckily, my father is inebriated a majority of the time he's out and about."
"Well if you ever decide to return to writing poetry, you have my full support."
You nod, "Thank you, Ben. I really appreciate it."
"Y/N," you turn to your right to see Daphne now walking beside you, pushing Auggie in his pram.
"Yes, Your Grace?" you stop and answer her with a teasing smirk. You're older than Daphne by a few years, but just two years younger than Benedict. You've always seen Daphne as a younger sister, being that you are an only child. Occasionally the teasing will produce itself between you two.
"Would you like to join us for dinner?"
You can't help but laugh, "Of course, but I've been spending my entire day with you already. Won't you all get tired of me?"
"We'd never tire of you, Y/N," Benedict replies with earnest and it brings a warm smile to your place.
"Be that as it may, I believe the Viscount should have the final word?"
Anthony, Kate, and Violet catch up to you as you're all looking at Anthony. He looks at you all in confusion, "Something the matter?"
Daphne speaks up, "I invited Y/N to stay for dinner if that's alright, brother?"
He shoots you a grin, "Of course. Miss L/N is always welcome. You're practically family, yes?" he shoots Benedict a wink and you're not sure why.
"Well thank you for the invitation," you look down at your dress, "But perhaps, I should at least change. This dress isn't particularly dinner attire."
"What do you mean? You look beautiful as always," Benedict states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
The Bridgertons all give each other knowing looks. That's when the Dowager Viscountess speaks up, "Benedict, darling, Y/N is right. After the promenade, we should allow her to freshen up before dinner."
Kate removes herself from Anthony and loops arms with you, "Let us continue our promenade, Y/N."
"Of course!" you giggle with your friend as you continue on the trail.
Benedict moves to follow, but Anthony pats his brother on the shoulder, "You've spent hours with her, brother. Let her take a break from you clinging to her all the time."
Benedict looks at his older brother in offense, "I don't cling to her...do I?"
"A bit, darling," Violet says and Daphne nods in agreement.
He runs his hand through his hair and sighs, "I'm too obvious, aren't I?"
Daphne shakes her head, "No, I don't think so. If you were, she'd have said something, yes? Or maybe would have run for the hills?" she asks with a smirk to her elder brothers, before continuing to push Augie down the path.
_________________
When you arrive back home to change, you ask the housekeeper, Mrs. Burnett, if your aunt is home.
"No, Miss, she's gone to meet with Lady Danbury," the older woman replies.
You nod, "Thank you, Mrs. Burnett," you gather your dress and make your way to your room upstairs.
You freeze when you see the door ajar and you know for a fact you closed it before leaving earlier.
You slowly push the door open and your heart drops when you see your father surrounded by pages and pages of poems. Poems that are supposed to be written by a man.
You gulp and slowly approach him as he sits at your writing desk, "Papa?"
His eyes meet yours in a cold and intimidating stare, "Not only have you still been indulging in poetry, but you're writing it? Under a man's name?"
"What were you doing in my room?"
"THIS IS MY HOUSE! I CAN BE ANYWHERE I PLEASE!"
You take some cautionary steps towards him, "Papa, you've had too much to drink."
"No!" he abruptly stands at your desk, causing you to jump ack in surprise. His chest is heaving as he tightly grips pages of your work, "If anyone finds out about this-"
"They won't! I've hid this from everyone for months!"
"You need to marry," he says with definitive authority.
You look at him with a confused expression, "What do you mean?"
"I can't take your defiance any longer!"
"Defiance?"
Your father walks around your desk so it's no longer a wall between you and he. He points a warning finger at you, "If you don't find a husband within a month's time, I'm marrying you off to your cousin, Albert."
Your jaw drops, "Cousin Albert?! He's absolutely horrendous! He's a rake and a gambler-"
"And looking for a wife!" he exclaims as he cuts you off, "When you were younger, your Uncle Wallace tried to convince me to have you two promised to each other once you came out to society. I regret not taking the opportunity now seeing how you've grown up."
You clench your fists in anger, "Mama wouldn't stand for this! She-
THWACK!
Your words are stuck in your throat, your cheek stinging after your father slaps you. His eyes are red and wild as he spits out, "Mama is dead! She is not here anymore! This is my house! You are to find a husband in a month or you are to marry Albert. Be grateful I'm not sending you away right this moment."
You're holding your cheek now, trying to soothe the pain. Your heart hurts for yourself and your mama. You know she'd hate the man your papa has become.
Without another word, you're rushing out of your room and bounding down the stairs.
Your aunt had just arrived back and you rush past her without a glance. She follows you in concern, "Y/N? What happened?! What's wrong? Y/N!" she yells after you as you run down the street back towards the Bridgerton household.
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slytherinslut0 · 8 months
Text
MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Two. Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)
Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Oral Sex (M Rec), Throat Fucking, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, DubCon, CNC.
****Find the rest of the chapters HERE.
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"You're fifteen minutes late."
Mattheo rolled his eyes, slumping down in the creaky wooden chair with an exasperated huff, running his tongue over the split-open cut on his lip as he fiddled with the gauze wrapped around his battered knuckles--the fresh blood seeping through the material told you that he had ever-so-shockingly taken part in yet another degenerate fight, this time coincidentally directly before your once-a-week tutor session.
"I'm fine, by the way." He said, not bothering to look at you. "Thanks for asking."
"Why should I?" You tilted your head, already feeling the heat of his suffocating arrogance filling your lungs. "It's not like you've ever cared about my well-being, or as you've so clearly proven today; my time."
Riddle scoffed, rolling his eyes yet again as he ran a hand through his hair. "You sound entitled, princess."
"I sound entitled?" Gods, he was doing it again. He was absolutely getting you fucking going with little to no effort spent. "My dearest apologies, Riddle...I was under the impression that entitlement was believing you can treat people however you like without consequences...silly me."
At your retort, he glimpsed you, pausing all his movements as a sly grin crawled across his face.
"Giving me attitude already, Raven?" He purred, dark eyes slithering down to your lips, before falling lower to your chest, lingering there for far-too-long before they slowly travelled back up to meet your sight.
Throughout all of that, you weren't sure if you'd blinked once--your pulse increasing to a rate so fast you were certain your heart was about to burst from your chest.
Mattheo moistened his lips, his tongue darting out to remove the blood from the split in his lower one.
"...I'd have thought that after our little agreement last week, you'd have come to your senses..."
He leaned forward in his chair, long fingers curling in on his palms and forming tight fists as he rested his hands on top of the desk--eyes darker than the midnight sky as he studied your tensing reaction.
"Would you like to start over? Or perhaps, that filthy fucking mouth of yours needs to be taught a lesson?"
You swallowed, something in your lower abdomen tingling at this words. You shook your head, dropping your eyes to your lap. "I'm sorry."
His eyes lit up. "What was that?" The sadistic arrogance in his tone made you want to scream. "I didn't quite catch what you said."
Your jaw clenched, teeth gritting--Gods, how you wanted to tell him to goto hell; to kick rocks and get the fuck out and never come near you again--but you knew you would never, and could never do such a thing. Instead, you inhaled a sharp breath in through your nose, before slowly releasing it, shooting him the best fake smile you could possibly muster.
"I said, I'm sorry." Your voice was tight, tone as sharp as glass. "Now, can we begin? You're already-"
"No." He said flatly, cutting you off. "I don't accept your apology. I think you need to get on your knees-"
Your jaw dropped at his words, and you involuntarily slammed your hands down on the wooden surface in front of you as you stood up, leaning across the desk towards him. After all these months of sticking your neck out for him, going out of your way to tutor him and attempt to teach him some form of educational material to at least help him fucking graduate on time--he's really going to sit there and degrade you like a piece of shit under his shoe just because you retaliated against his arrogant attitude?
Not going to fucking happen.
"Cut the shit, Riddle." You hissed, leaning down to meet his dark, intoxicating eyes. "You may be in charge here, and I may need you in ways that are entirely taxing to my mental state...but just as much as I need you--you need me, too...so how about you show me some fucking respect?"
At your words, Mattheo's confident facade wavered, only-slightly, his dark eyes widening with surprise as your words pierced through his stoic composure. Blinking, he considered your defiance for a fleeting moment before abruptly standing up, as well--his face, which was usually a mask of calculated control, portrayed a mix of curiosity and smug arrogance.
As he rounded the desk and approached you, his eyes locked onto yours; unyielding and intense--making your entire body freeze in place. The room seemed to hold its breath, the charged silence amplifying the tension between your bodies, as if the very air crackled with anticipation of what would unfold next, your shoulders slouching as he stopped in front of you, tall frame towering over you.
And then, his perfect fucking lips curled into a sly smile.
"Respect? Oh, I respect your desperation, Raven...that's about it..." his voice was slow, calculated, and of course; sadistic. "It would do you well to remember that in this little alliance of ours, I hold the key to your entire fucking future...so, perhaps a little lesson in humility is what you truly need, hm?"
He brought a battered hand up to your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his head tilting as his dark eyes studied the movement of his fingers.
"How about you show me just how much you respect me...and maybe, just maybe, I'll consider playing nice, yeah?" He paused, his fingers lingering against your skin. "Until then...it seems as though you're at my mercy, little girl."
Your fingers quivered at your sides, your heart pounding in your throat, but you were resolute in not allowing him to win so easily. Despite his immense power over you, giving in without a fight wasn't an option you were willing to entertain. It was times like these where your brash, unyielding nature was both a curse and a source of strength, propelling you toward your demise.
"Not if I goto Dumbledore first..." you whispered, glimpsing his lips. "Not if I tell him that you were entirely uncooperative...defiant...wouldn't be that hard to believe, considering your troublesome track record..."
He huffed, fingers trailing from behind your ear and running along your jawline, his lips parting as he stared, lost entirely in his own little world--until he blinked, meeting your eyes.
"And how would that look on you, Raven? As a future Professor..." he murmured, leaning closer. "Don't you think it would look rather...perturbing, that you weren't able to get me under control? That you weren't able to find some sort of compromise to ensure my cooperation?"
His rugged fingers trailed along the contour of your jaw, finding a firm hold at your chin and sliding underneath it, his thumb caressing your cheek with a touch that held both tenderness and threat. A lump formed in your throat, your lips parting in sheer exasperation as his eyes darkened, their intensity sending shivers down your spine. Your entire body quivered under his grasp as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing your temple.
"You're shaking, Raven..." he purred, hot breath washing over your face as he used his grip on your chin to tug you closer. "Why so nervous, hm? What happened to all that fire you had?"
Your voice faltered, barely a whisper, as you tried to find words under the weight of Mattheo's power.
"I...I'm just..."
You hesitated, unable to meet his intense gaze, your words trailing off into a nervous silence. The sheer dominance he exuded left you speechless, your heart racing, and you struggled to articulate your thoughts, feeling completely overwhelmed and out of your depth.
Mattheo's lips curled into a subtle, self-assured smile as he sensed your growing vulnerability. His eyes, dark and smoldering, held a predatory gleam, and he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his breath grazing your skin as he revelled in the palpable effect he had on you.
"This vulnerability...it suits you, I must admit..." his voice was a low, seductive murmur, pulling back to meet your eyes. "Don't worry, little Raven...I won't bite...unless you ask me to, of course..."
With an amused huff, he shifted, his lips brushing over your ear, and you pulled your lip between your teeth to restrain a whimper as you felt his free hand move, long fingers ghosting over the fabric of your skirt as he grazed your hip.
"Mattheo, I-" your body reacted in a way you hadn't anticipated, utterly frozen under Mattheo's commanding presence. Desire coursed through your veins, a mixture of fear and a thrilling, unfamiliar attraction, and you struggled to string together a sentence. "I've never-"
"Never what, princess?" He purred, voice reverberating as a deep hum, the seductive pitch doing inexplicable things to your body. "Don't be shy..."
As his grip on your hip tightened, your lungs stalled, a small gasp slipping past your lips; and as though you'd somehow snapped Mattheo out of a hypnotic trance, he pulled back--his widened obsidian eyes meeting yours.
"Holy fuck, Raven, are you a fucking virgin?" His voice was barely above a whisper, the husk of it sparking fire through your veins. "You haven't even kissed someone, have you?"
Embarrassment flooded you, a heat hot enough to melt the Arctic. When you nodded, almost impenetrably; his stare intensified, the excitement practically radiating from his flesh.
"Shit...I'm going to fucking ruin you..." Mattheo's fingers tightened around your jaw, once again tugging you closer--your heart stalled as he crouched down slightly, bringing himself eye-to-eye with you, his face mere centimeters from yours. "That's what you want though, isn't it? I see the way you look at me...I feel the way your body responds to me...even when you fucking despise me..."
Mules of power coursed through Mattheo's fingers as his hand left your hip, snaking around your waist as his eyes scanned your features--watching every single ministration of your face as though he was afraid you'd disappear; as though he'd miss something if he blinked.
"You want this," he whispered, his breath hot against your face. "You've been aching for it ever since we first met...admit it."
Your adrenaline surged. You knew you were playing with fire here, but you couldn't control yourself.
"Don't flatter yourself, Riddle..." you murmured, voice unsteady. "Unlike you I actually harbour a modicum of self control."
Upon your utterance, Mattheo's entire demeanor shifted abruptly--something dark and unsettling creeping behind his eyes. His grip tightened aggressively, applying force with enough intensity to leave bruises.
"There's that mouth again." He growled, his tone dark and rough. "You just can't fucking help yourself, can you?"
You snuffed a gasp as his fingernails dug into your skin, the intensity radiating off his flesh.
"You think you're so fucking smart, hm? Little good girl, top of the class, never stepping out of the lines..." he tilted his head, leaning closer, mouth so close to yours you could practically taste the blood seeping from the cut on his lip. "I'm going to have so much fucking fun with you, Raven...we'll see just how smart you are when you’re on your fucking knees for me like a dumb little whore..."
Your breath was hardly filtering, lungs sputtering. "Mattheo-"
He shifted your body, shoving your ass back against the desk as he pressed himself against you, one hand behind your neck with the other tightly gripping your hip; eyes drunk on a dark hunger--one that intoxicated you without effort.
"That's what I want, Raven...I want you on your knees for me every single week...and in exchange, I'll pay attention to your dumb lessons and make sure I pass...the second I fail to do just that, it all stops, okay?" His voice was tight, focused, but serious--as serious as you've ever fucking heard him. "I won't tell a fucking soul about any of this, and I know you won't either...both of our reputations depend on it..."
Gods, you fucking loved this, even though admitting it felt like peeling away layers of denial--but deep down, you knew the truth, even though it clashed with your feelings of utter disgust and irritation towards Mattheo Riddle. Something about the images swirling inside your mind as you thought about it, thought about the mere prospect of having him at your mercy, his pleasure intertwined with your control, stirred a complex mix of emotions within you.
It was as if a forbidden fascination had taken root, coaxing an unexpected excitement from the depths of your being. If surrendering to this unconventional desire meant he would finally invest effort in your tutor sessions, you found yourself reluctantly willing to explore this uncharted territory.
But not before teasing him a little.
"Don't you have enough girls on their knees for you, Riddle?" You whispered, fingers clutching the desk for dear life. "Do you really need that from me?"
He huffed, amused. "Sure, but those girls expect something from me in return...with you, it'll be all about me and what I fucking want..." he purred, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. "I have no interest in taking your virginity, Raven...you can save that for your wedding night, or whatever the fuck it is you're waiting for...I just want those pretty fucking lips...I just want to finally put that annoying mouth of yours to good use..."
Your entire body was vibrating, every word from his mouth did something foreign to you lower abdomen--something you'd never felt nor experienced before. There were so many emotions pummelling through your veins right now; from desire to irritation to defiance to submission--every one melding inside your mind and rendering your mouth utterly mute. You had no idea what to fucking say.
Until Riddle leaned in, closer, his lips brushing over yours. "Do we have a deal?"
You swallowed, your sight flickering from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips, examining all the small cuts and bruises and scars he had peppering his skin. When you nodded, he tightened the grip on the back of your neck, forcing a squeal from deep in your throat.
"Words, Raven," he said sharply. "Use them. I want to hear you say it."
You weren't breathing, you wondered how the fuck you were even conscious. "Yes," you whispered. "We have a deal."
Mattheo exhaled. "Fuck..."
In the span of a single breath, his lips found yours, soft and yielding--conveying a desperate, yet gentle craving. You became a candle, his touch a flame, liquefying you from the core, heat spreading through your every fiber, reaching down to your very toes. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, immersing you in a passionate embrace that seemed to defy time itself.
Your mind spun in a whirlwind of realization: this was your first kiss, an intimate moment shared with a boy you openly despised. His lips bore the remnants of alcohol and cigarettes, a taste accentuated by the faint hint of blood. He desired you for a singular purpose, and you saw him merely as a means to solidify your post-graduate fate. Despite the inherent wrongness of the situation, you couldn't summon the care to stop it, succumbing to the inexplicable pull between you two.
His low growl echoed in the charged air as his tongue danced with yours, emboldening you. Your fingers threaded through his thick, curly hair, exploring the contours of his mouth. Meanwhile, his hand roamed up your thigh, tracing your curves until it found the top of your uniform. With a firm grip, he pulled at the fabric, and then, shifted his hand to your wrist, directing it toward the insistent bulge in his pants.
As your fingers grazed it, something surged through you; something suffocating, something intoxicating--and involuntarily, you moaned into his mouth.
"Shit..." he breathed, grip on the back of your neck intensifying. "You feel that, Raven? That's all for you..."
Your breath was shaking, your lungs on fire. You had no idea what was happening to you, you had no idea what you were even thinking, let alone saying--a haze of pleasure and adrenaline and arousal was clouding your cognitive capacity, words spilling from your lips without thought as you squeezed the outline of his dick.
"You're so big..." your voice was a whisper, lesser even. "I-I don't think I'll-"
"You will," his voice cracked, cutting you off, already knowing what you were about to say.
With a smirk, he stepped back slightly, using the hand behind your head to gently guide you toward the floor, a silent yet compelling command. When you met his eyes, a clear nervousness in your expressions, he smirked.
"Don't worry Raven, I'll go easy on you for your first time..." he whispered. "Unlike you, I'm actually a patient teacher."
When you finally landed on your knees in front of him, his fervent fingers moved to his belt, swiftly undoing the latch and tugging his trousers mid-way down his thighs. His eyes never once left yours, his bottom lip pulled tightly between his teeth as he moved to his boxers next; finally freeing his thick, throbbing length, the veins in his hand tensing as he wrapped his fist around its girth, his mouth falling open in relief.
Your stomach twisted, your entire body fucking screaming at the sight. "Holy fu-"
Your words were cut short as his hand thrust through your hair, fingers entangling through your soft strands, cranking your neck back slightly to meet his eyes again, slowly fucking into his fist as he watched you; examined you.
"What would your friends think of this, huh?" His voice was hoarse, arrogant, and of course, sadistic, like always. "Little good girl Ravenclaw on her knees for the big bad Slytherin fuck up...it's almost poetic, isn't it?"
Your fingers trembled, and you clutched the fabric of your skirt for dear life. "Are you going to let me suck it or are you going to hold me here all day instead?"
"Eager little thing you are," he huffed, smirking; jaw tensing and throat bobbing as he swallowed. "Drop your jaw, princess."
As you did what he said, he hummed in satisfaction, directing the head of his throbbing cock past your lips, hissing through his teeth as the wet warmth of your mouth enveloped his shaft, involuntarily gagging as he continued to push into throat until your hands shot up to his thighs, silently pleading for a mere second to adjust to his size.
"Use your hands then, Raven..." his voice was a breathless whisper, fingers tightening their hold on your hair. "Unless you want me to fuck that filthy throat of yours."
You glanced up at him, his appearance doing inexplicable things to your cunt, undeniably at this point--and you wrapped your hands around the base of his shaft, twisting and stroking as you moved your mouth against the remaining length--suctioning your lips around him, eyes watering and cunt clenching as he groaned, head falling back and lids fluttering shut.
"Mm...that's it..." he muttered, using your hair like reigns to direct your head. "Your mouth feels so fucking good when you're not using it to be an uptight little bitch..."
You hummed in assent, pressing your wet tongue against the throbbing underside of his cock. Your heart was beating out of your chest, thighs clamping in lust--even though he was being a sadistic asshole per usual, and there was not one part of this you should be enjoying--you couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between your legs, the unfamiliar desire that was growing in your lungs only intensified with every deep, breathless groan that left Mattheo's lips.
You dropped your hands, taking more of him now, slowly but surely, and you tried your best to ignore the pain that Riddle was inflicting on your scalp; his cock twitching more insistently between your lips with each passing second. Cranking your neck back, he slowly started fucking into your throat, groaning as he'd almost entirely pulled out, and you tightened your lips around his girth, wanting to trap him.
"So fucking good, Raven..." he huffed, and eased in again, holding your head in place, watching as his length disappeared into your mouth. "Are you sure this is your first time? Shit-"
His voice was heavy with pleasure, igniting a thunderstorm of arousal on your skin, growing more intense with each second his eyes were on you--his breathing grew heavier as your lips and tongue worked in unison, the sheer hunger in his gaze nearly palpable.
"Look at me," he muttered, cranking your neck back further, thrusting deeper. When you met his eyes, your thighs screamed in need. "Good girl...just like that..."
Mattheo's hips moved quicker, his groans of pleasure filling the room. Sparks were buzzing over your skin, air squeaking into your nose, tears welling in your eyes as he thrust into your throat again and again. His gaze was trained on you, his breath coming in shorter bursts the faster he moved.
"Fuck..." he sputtered, fingers bruising your scalp. "Far better use for that filthy mouth..."
You gagged, swallowing against him, and he yanked your head back further; entirely losing himself and any ounce of his self control in the heat of your throat as he neared his peak. You worked your tongue along the underside of his dick, pulling your lips in over your teeth, a quiet groan leaving him as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him.
"You look so good taking my cock..." he said. "You don't know how many times I've imagined doing this to you-fuck...every time you gave me attitude...shit..."
A moan rumbled through you, spurred on by his words, and his head fell back, breath sputtering in his lungs as he squeezed his eyes shut; fingernails digging into your scalp as he held you in place, hot jets of his release shooting down your throat without warning. You panted against his dick, swallowing every last drop of his cum without complaint, and when he finally released you--slowly tucking himself away, he stared at you with an astounded expression on his face, chest heaving.
As you wiped the drool off your chin with your sleeve, you slowly peeled yourself off the floor, meeting his intense eyes--which were still staring at you as he did up his belt.
"What?" You said, anxiously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
He blinked, throat knocking as he swallowed. "I'm just trying to figure you the fuck out." He said. "You took my cock and swallowed my cum better than some of the sluttiest whores in this school have..."
Your face burned, entire body tingling as you readjusted your uniform. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Not at all, Raven." He huffed, throwing himself into the chair next to yours. "Think you just needed a bad boy like me to give you permission to finally let loose, yeah?"
"Permission?" You cocked an eyebrow, taking a seat next to him. "I'd think not, Riddle."
"Denial is a river in Egypt, princess." He sneered, that devilish smirk teasing his lips per usual. "You have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into. Better hope you don't get attached...I promise, I'm nothing but bad news..."
Your rolled your eyes, straightening out in the chair and flipping open the textbook to the appropriate chapter.
"Believe me, I won't."
——————
Chapter three->
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earthtooz · 1 year
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quick rin hc because i need these thoughts to go somewhere before it eats me alive.
when you first starting dating itoshi rin, you never thought he'd be the clingy type.
and your theory proved true for the first few months of your relationship. most physical affection was initiated by you, you were the one holding his hand, latching yourself onto his arm, and leaving kisses on his cheek so that if he was uncomfortable, he could easily shake you off.
not that rin ever did. if you weren't so nervous, you would've seen the crack in his apathetic facade, his face turning a traitorous shade of red.
well. now that you're a year or so down into the relationship, it's safe to say that you were very wrong about your assumption.
itoshi rin loves by making his mark. he's only happy once he's sure that everyone knows who you're with.
whether that's with a protective arm around your waist, paparazzi photos of the two of you together in your own little world, or showing you off in clothes of his (or hickeys), rin will happily give you all of him.
he gets a little too grumpy when you start your day before him, making him miss the chance to cherish your warmth and admire your beauty for a little longer.
he pats your side of the bed blindly and groans when he doesn't feel you there, the space pitifully empty when he lugs his body over to where you should be. rin should get up and find you, really, but he hates starting the day when you're not the first thing he sees.
fortunately for him, you hear him from where you were doing your morning routine in the bathroom.
opening the en suite door, you're amused to see your boyfriend like this, subtly distraught and splayed all over the mattress.
"good morning, you," is what you say to him whilst walking over, now feeling rejuvenated and ready to start the day. that was your first mistake because rin then all but drags you down onto the bed with him, encasing you in his arms.
he hasn't even said good morning back.
"hey! let go, jerk!" you huff, hitting his chest lightly.
"no."
"rin!"
"no."
"what do you mean-"
"no."
"rin, c'mon, let me go."
"no. now shut up, wanna hold you."
as if helping his argument, he throws the covers over the two of you, sighing quietly in satisfaction when you return his affection, amused enough to listen to his command. "y'know it's 9am right now. shouldn't you be doing your workout?"
"don't care. shut up."
"so mean. you're lucky i'm with you, even if you're horrible," you say, mostly as a joke. he can tell by the airiness of your voice, but rin stills a little in your arms before pushing more of his weight on top of you, placing a kiss to your jaw for good measure. several kisses, actually.
"shut up. please?"
"you're so stupid," the breathy laughter that escapes you only causes rin to tuck himself further into your warmth.
rin also gets a little too grumpy when you tell him that you're going out with your friends. at this point, he stops bothering to hide his disappointment. paired with a pout, he looks at you with such glossy eyes when he asks 'what about our self-care night?' that you have to resist the urge to pinch his cheeks and kiss him silly.
you promise him another night and he's placated when you tell him that you'll give him a full spa treatment.
he grabs onto your shirt to avoid you straying too far. whenever you’re together and see something in a store window, you take a few steps before being inevitably dragged back by itoshi rin, who has a masterful poker face plastered to counter your ‘why did you do that?’ expression.
'don't go where i can't follow' type of boyfriend- why is he dramatic... like babes... i'm going to the bathroom... no you can't come with me...
anyways i'm shutting up now before i ramble too much. so. yeah. clingy!rin is really just... something else...
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talaok · 8 months
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The final jump
Pairing: Step-dad!Joel Miller x Step-daughter!reader
Summary: When your stepdad finds out you and your boyfriend haven't had sex yet, he tells you the reason is that you're a virgin, but thankfully... he can help with that.
Warnings: step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence dub-con, Perv!Joel, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), virginity loss, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, dacryphilia, and daddy-kink. Joel is a full-on perv in this one ok, don't say I didn't warn ya, 
a/n: this is wrong and weird and for the first time since i opened this blog, i actually doubted whether i should post something or not, but at the end of the day this is all fake and i do not condone in any way what's portrayed in this fic. And please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don't like what you see.
Pt. 2 - Pt. 3
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"c'mere" he instructed, pulling you into his lap like he always did when Mom wasn't around.
"there's nothing wrong with this" he had explained the first time it happened "Your mom just doesn't need to know about everything"
You nestled your head into the crook of his neck as you continued watching the movie, while his hands settled around your waist and onto your naked thigh.
He always made you wear skirts when you were alone, he even bought you some, and each time they got shorter. Once, you had asked him why, and as always, he had an explanation
"It's good for your skin, sweetheart, your legs need to breathe"
The one you were wearing right now, for example, a very cute baby pink one, barely covered your butt, which must have meant it was very healthy for your skin.
And then of course for the same exact reason, when Mom wasn't home, bras were banned, and you could only wear small tank tops, preferably very low cut and that let your stomach breathe.
You didn't mind the rules Joel had given you, you trusted him, and he knew what was better for you.
Plus, you would have been lying if you said you didn't like all the attention he gave you, even if it was just when you were alone. You loved how much he obviously cared about you, and you loved even more letting him take care of you.
You had never had a dad, unless you count the first three months of your life before your real dad decided to split, so now that you had such a good step-dad, you felt on top of the world, and even if you were 18, you didn't mind being taken care of like no dad ever had.
If he had offered to read you bedtime stories to get you to sleep, you would have probably accepted just to see what you had missed out on, that's how desperate you were.
You wrapped your hands around his neck, clinging to his warm self, and letting his scent wrap around you in the best way.
"You comfortable?" he asked, as his fingers gently drew patterns on your legs
"yes daddy"
Oh, that's right. Calling him daddy was another rule, if not the most important one.
"good" he said, kissing the crown of your head 
Ghostface appeared behind Tara on the screen, and you tightened your hold on him a little bit.
"You scared, babygirl?"
"'m not scared daddy, I've watched this movie like ten times" you giggled
"What a brave girl" he cooed "You're not scared of anything huh?"
"no 'm scared of lots of things daddy, just not horror movies"
"ah that's right" he murmured "You're still scared of spiders, aren't you pretty girl?"
"Well of course" you nodded "but I have you to get rid of them"
"of course you do" he smiled, pulling your legs closer to him by the back of your knees, and making you beam happily.
Your whole backside was exposed now, making you blush a little bit.
You knew there was nothing wrong with this, but you still felt a little insecure about showing so much of yourself to Joel.
He didn't seem to notice as his hand went right to the newly revealed skin.
His hands always felt good against you, in a way you had never quite experienced, they were so big... and so rough, and oh so warm. If you could, you'd let him touch you all day every day.
Suddenly, a ching ran through the room, startling you.
Joel's soft chuckle vibrated through his chest and into yours.
"Not scared huh?"
"I just wasn't expecting that" you whined, removing your hands from him to reach onto the coffee table.
You had to stretch your whole body to do that, giving Joel a full view of your white cotton panties, and what they were trying to cover.
If Joel's cock was hard before, it was now quickly reaching the painfully hard territory.
"Oh sweetie" he tutted, as you grabbed the phone.
"what?" you asked, a tint of panic in your tone.
"it's just these panties..." he trailed off, as his fingers reached for them "This fabric is not good for you darlin'"
"These too?" you asked, a tad disappointed.
It seemed none of the panties you owned were ever good for your skin.
"Yes babygirl," he shook his head "here, let me help you, I'll take them off for you" he said, starting to gently drag them down your legs.
"but daddy-"
"what?" he stopped "I'm just looking out for you sugar, I just want you to be real healthy"
"A-alright" you nodded "I-if you say so"
"There's no need to be shy, babygirl, I'm your daddy, I only do what's best for you" he promised, tugging your underwear until they pooled at your knees.
Joel had to bite down a groan at the sight of your perfect little pussy.
"I know," you said, swallowing slowly 
"Tell you what," he spoke, "I think it's best from now on if you just don't wear any panties when we're alone alright?"
"Sure daddy" you agreed "Can I sit back down now?"
"Of course" he urged, bringing you back into his lap, and slowly taking off your panties completely.
You checked your phone to see who had texted you, already forgetting about what had just happened, when Joel noticed something as he inspected your pretty little panties.
"These are wet babygirl," he said, holding them up for you to see.
your cheeks flushed a little bit as you looked up from your phone.
"Is-Is that bad?"
What if the fabric of your panties was so bad that it made you sick?
You hated being sick
The expression on his face was unreadable, he was looking at you differently.
"Does this happen to you a lot?" he asked, ignoring your question
"O-only sometimes...when I'm with you" you whispered "A-am I sick daddy?"
And then he did the last thing you were expecting, he smiled "no" he shook his head "You're not sick sweetie"
"oh" you breathed, relieved "then what is it?"
"It jus' means you like spendin' time with me a lot"
"Well of course I do" you giggled, looking back at your phone.
Joel watched you for a moment more, your face so innocent... too pretty for your own good, before pocketing the panties to add to his collection.
He didn't understand how you still hadn't noticed half your underwear had disappeared from its drawer.
"who was it?" he asked, once he had placed his hands on your ass, and on your inner thigh, feeling the warmth of your core closer and closer to his fingers.
"Just Chad" you answered "he's asking if I can hang out with him tomorrow night"
"mh" he considered.
He never liked Chad much
"This Chad" he started "he's good to you right?"
"Yes daddy" you stifled a laugh "You don't have to ask me every time I bring him up"
"Jus' wanna make sure" he shrugged "You're being safe and everything?"
"what do you mean?" you frowned "I don't think there's anything risky about going out to eat once in a while"
"now that's not what I meant babygirl" he smirked 
"oh" you breathed "what did you mean then?"
"I meant to ask if you're usin' protection"
"Protection?" your frown just deepened.
You lived in Austin Texas, not the Wild West, protection from what, mosquitoes?
"Yeah protection, sugar" he nodded
"From what?" you asked, more confused than ever.
"oh baby girl" he laughed softly, leaning back onto the couch "condoms. You use condoms?"
And in an instant, your face had turned red.
"Oh, I- We- I haven't- we didn't-" 
That's all you could muster from your flustered state.
Joel's amusement left his face in a second to make space for something... else.
He had prompted this subject just to see you all embarrassed, and hear you talk about what he dreamed of doing every night with you, but this... this had just gotten interesting.
"you haven't done it?" he asked
It took a moment before you finally managed to shake your head no.
His grip on your thigh got tighter
"why's that?"
Your teeth let go of your bottom lip so you could respond.
"I-I don't know"
All it took was another look at you, at your big blown-out eyes, at your red cheeks, and it all came together.
"sweetheart," he said gently "are you a virgin?"
Your forehead creased again in puzzlement.
"w-what's that?"
His lips pulled into a smirk, and you watched each muscle on his face with curiosity.
"Oh baby" he smiled "I mean have you ever had sex?"
Your chest was rising and falling so quickly that you wondered how long it would take for you to hyperventilate.
The redness of your skin had now spread to your ears and neck too.
"I-I" you mumbled, avoiding his eyes
"Sweetie" he cooed, gently guiding your face to look up at him "You can tell me"
You gulped, looking into his hazel eyes.
Oh, how stupid you were being. Of course you can tell daddy.
"No" you slowly shook your head.
"Ah" he hummed "then that's why"
"That's why what?" you asked
Now, a good man would have stopped there, a good man would have dropped this right there... but good men didn't fantasize about their step-daughters, good men didn't come up with rules to watch them walk around the house half naked, good men didn't pull their panties down just to catch a glimpse of what they'd been dreaming of for months, and Joel, well Joel was already going to hell, so why not make the final jump.
"That's why Chad hasn't had sex with you"
"W-what?"
He wet his lips, not thinking about anything else but how good that pretty cunt of yours must feel around his cock.
"No guy wants to be a girl's first, babygirl" he murmured, stroking your cheek.
"Really?" your eyes widened at the realization "but- why?"
"lots of reasons sweetie" he explained "girls tend to... get attached"
"oh" your perfect mouth created the cutest little o
"yeah baby" he nodded "I'm sorry"
Your eyes were starting to water, and your throat was getting clogged up
"but then... who's ever gonna want to make love to me?"
make love? god you were so innocent
"you want Chad to make love to you, pretty girl?"
You were pouting so cutely Joel's heart was starting to break a little bit.
"I mean- maybe... I don't know" you murmured, tears falling from your eyes now "but he's never gonna want to now!" you sobbed
He wiped away your tears with his thumb before bringing you closer to his chest, giving you a big tight hug.
"It's ok sugar, shh" he calmed you down.
"H-how is he ever gonna want to make love to me?" you asked, raising your doe eyes to him.
And there it was, his free pass to the flames of hell.
"Well, there is a way," he said gently
"W-what?" you stumbled over your words
"I could help you out" he spoke
"H-how?"
His eyes darted from your watery eyes to your pretty pink mouth.
"I could be your first"
Your heart missed a beat.
"Y-you?"
"Yeah sweetheart, that way you can tell Chad you're not a virgin, and he'll for sure want to make love to you "
Your eyes sparked up
"Really?" you beamed "Y-you'd do that for me?"
"Of course" he promised, "What else are daddies for?"
"Oh thank you, daddy!" You threw your arms around him to hug him like your life depended on it "You're the best"
He grinned into your hair, thanking every existing being for having granted him such a gift: you.
"oh sweetheart, trust me it's you who's the best" he murmured.
You leaned away, a smile from ear to ear plastered on your face "So-uhm- How does this work?"
He smiled at your eagerness
"Well, first of all, we gotta get on a bed" he explained "so wrap your arms and legs around me and hold on tight baby girl"
"Like this?" you asked, after obliging
"Perfect" he nodded before standing up from the couch.
A soft whimper fled your mouth as he made you bounce a little bit to set you better on his body.
"Calm down sweetie, I'm here" he cooed, starting to walk up the stairs, and before you realized, you were in your room.
"why didn't we go to your room?" you wondered aloud
"I just like yours better" he dismissed your question as he settled you on the bed.
You looked around the walls and posters and floor you knew so well and then back at him.
You didn't think he'd ever been in here before, and it was such a weird image.
he looked so out of place in such a girly space.
"and now?" you asked, looking up at him expectantly.
He smirked "Now we take off these pretty clothes of yours"
"O-oh, alright" you nodded, watching as he kneeled in front of you.
His hands went to your tank top first, slowly seeping underneath it before taking it off of you.
A small groan left his throat, and you observed how his eyes focused on your breasts.
"I-is there something wrong?" 
"No, sweetie, I'm just real happy to help you, 's all"
You smiled cheerfully at that.
He was always so nice.
"Now we gotta take off this skirt" he explained, gently pulling it down for you until it pooled at your feet.
You didn’t think you'd ever seen Joel smile so wide.
"Good God baby girl" he breathed, taking each and every inch of you in like you were a piece of art in a museum "You're real pretty, you know that?"
Your cheeks reddened as your lips pulled into a shy smile.
"T-thank you" you mumbled
He stroked your thighs a little, but way too soon he was standing up.
He reached into his back pocket for something, and a moment later his phone was in his hand.
You watched as he swiped somewhere on the screen and then took a step back to make sure the camera didn't miss any part of you.
"What are you doing?" you asked, curious more than anything.
"Takin' some pictures"
"Oh," you murmured "W-why?"
"Don't worry baby, 's just me" he reassured you, now stepping closer to you again to caress your cheek softly, making you forget all about your worries.
"Do you think you could pose for me a little?"
"sure" you nodded, wanting to please him however you could.
"Such a good girl" he praised more to himself "Lay down for me mh?"
You immediately did, scooting more onto the bed and resting your back on the mattress.
"Spread your legs now" he instructed, loving the way you so easily obeyed.
You heard a soft click as he took another picture from right between your legs.
"Very good" he said "Now smile a lil', show me how happy you are Daddy's helping you out" 
You did of course, and this time he moved his phone a little upward so your face was more in the frame.
"now c'mere again" he said, urging you with two of his fingers.
You sat at the edge of the bed, right in front of him.
"so obedient..." he smirked, as he stroked your cheek "suck on my fingers sweetie" he ordered, slowly pushing his index and middle finger past your lips.
You were very very confused about this pose, but chose not to question it.
"Look at me" he instructed, and you watched his grin widen as he took the photo.
"You did real good honey" he spoke, placing his phone on your nightstand.
"Thank you daddy" you beamed, as he kneeled before you again.
A question came to you while he did
"Is Chad gonna take pictures too?" 
A tint of jealousy flashed behind his eyes
"No," he said firmly "and if he tries, you take his phone and throw it away, ok?"
"O-ok" you nodded.
"Now" he seemed to get back to himself "How 'bout you lay down and let me take care of you?"
"S-sure" you stuttered, lying down again.
You raised your head to look at him as he slowly spread your legs.
You felt very much on display, but you weren't embarrassed, you knew Joel only had good intentions.
Suddenly, he bent down to kiss you right on your mound.
You let out a gasp
He looked up at you, a devilish smile plaster on his face as his lips traveled lower, now finding your clit.
"Daddy!" you gasped again.
"what is it baby girl, it don't feel good?"
"N-no it just feels..."
You honestly had no idea how to describe how it felt.
"How?" he insisted
"tingly" you murmured
He smirked, kissing your clit again just to taunt you
"That's good baby" he explained "It means you're enjoying this"
"Oh- really?" you asked, wide-eyed 
"Really" he confirmed, before abruptly licking a long stripe of your pussy, and forcing your gasp to soon convert into a moan.
Oh, he definitely liked hearing that.
And the moment he decided on that, he started quite literally devouring your cunt, feeding off of it like it was the source of eternal youth.
"Oh my god" you started chanting in a high pitch, as your legs got a life of their own at the feeling.
You were losing yourself in the feeling when, suddenly, you felt something probing at your... entrance, and you whimpered in surprise.
"Daddy, what are you doing?" you asked, as your hands grabbed the covers for something to hold onto.
He fought the urge to ignore you and do what needed to be done.
"Imma put a finger inside of you now ok?" he explained as sweetly as he could, desperately trying to hide his frustration.
His cock was begging for some sort of relief, and you were only slowing him down.
"a-a finger?" you breathed "W-why?"
"Because I need to make sure this pretty little pussy of yours can take all of daddy"
You scrunched your nose, making a face
"What?" he asked
"I don't like that word"
"What word?" he asked "pussy?"
"mh-mh" you nodded
He couldn't help but laugh a little "What would you rather I call it?" he murmured mockingly,(only of course you didn't realize) "Your tootie?"
"I'm not a kid" you giggled " I haven't called it that since I was-"
Your words died in your throat once his middle finger plunged into your heat.
Your mouth parted in shock, but no sound came out.
"real good sweetie" he praised you, bending down again to suck on your bud, as he started moving his finger in and out of you.
"Daddy!" you cried, at the feeling
"I know, I know" his tone was loaded with false empathy "Now stay still for me alright?"
But before you had time to ask why, another one of his fingers had made its way inside of you.
"Daddy wha-" your own sentence was interrupted by a moan "You said you were gonna put only one finger in!" you protested
"I know baby girl" he whispered against your heat, sending a shiver up your spine "but I know what's best for you, don't I?"
Of course he did
"mh-mh" you nodded
"Good girl" he praised, not missing the way your walls tightened around him at the praise "How does it feel?"
"I-it hurts a little" you winced, 
"mh" he considered "that's because no one had touched you down here before" he spoke in between licks to your clit "Not even yourself right?"
"n-no" you answered in a breathy whisper.
"good," he said mostly to himself "And how does it feel now?" he asked, curling his fingers into your g-spot.
Your back arched from the bed
"b-better" 
He kept doing that, making you gasp and squirm under him until...
"and how 'bout now?"
A third finger intruded your hole, making you cry out so loud the neighbors probably heard.
"daddy!" you whined as your eyes watered "T-that hurt, why would you do that?"
"oh sweetie... I needed to do that" he cooed, watching your pussy struggling to stretch around his fingers "If you wanna take daddy's cock you need to be able to take three of my fingers at least"
"t-that's a lot" you sobbed
"Oh I know" he murmured "but you did it like a good girl" he kissed your clit as a reward, "Now all you gotta do is relax and come around daddy's fingers"
"b-but I've never done that, I-I don't know how to-"
"shh" he shushed you, moving his fingers inside your warm cunt as he leaned down again to put his tongue to use "Just relax for me sweetie"
And so you did, you closed your eyes and fell back onto the bed as you tried adjusting to his fingers and the feeling they were bringing with them.
You had no idea what was happening to you, you'd heard some of your friends talk about sex, and you did a few lessons in sex ed, but you never really got it... and this was very different from what you were expecting.
Joel's hands were gripping your thighs to keep your legs apart, and when he curled his fingers inside of you again, a pang of pure pleasure took over you, and as a deep moan left your mouth, your left hand got a life of its own and found Joel's hair, gripping it tightly.
He groaned into your cunt and a strange feeling started pooling down your belly.
"Oh god" you whimpered "Daddy- I-"
He started going even faster, the squelching of his fingers plunging into your core filling the whole room as you cried out louder and louder.
"I-I think it's h-happening" you breathed "W-what do I do?" you moaned "D-daddy?"
He was lost in the thought of how good your walls were gonna feel as they tightened around his cock instead of his fingers, but as you cried again, he came back to earth.
"Let go sweetheart" he urged, watching your face contort in all sorts of expressions and bashing in the knowledge that it was him who was provoking them "Be a good girl and come for daddy"
And with that, your eyes snapped open to glimpse at him before every cell in your being exploded and rearranged itself inside of you as you came.
"You did good" he spoke as you tried calming your breathing "you did real good baby" he nodded, as he took his fingers out of you and stared at your pussy like it was a piece of art.
"t-thank you" You gave him a shy smile, as your hands dropped to your sides.
"but now you're gonna have to do even better" he started, as he got up "Can you do that for me? Can you be good?" he asked, as he took off his t-shirt and started undoing his pants.
A tint of fear made its way into your excitement, but you didn't let it show.
"Of course Daddy" you eagerly answered "I'll be good"
"you sure?" he arched his brow as his pants fell to his feet and all that remained on his body was a black pair of boxers with a very big tent probing in the front.
"I-I'm sure" you nodded "I'll be good for you"
"good" his lips pulled into a proud line and then finally, he took his boxers off, and an involuntary little gasp came out of your mouth.
"it's nothing to be scared off sweetheart" he chuckled "Here, why don't you touch it"
You gulped as you raised yourself into a seated position, coming eye-to-eye with his scarily big penis.
You looked up at him for approval and he he offered you an encouraging nod, so you slowly raised your index finger, and gently pressed it again his red tip.
You let your finger graze his whole length, feeling every vein and curve of his manhood, and before you could do it again his voice interrupted.
"don't be scared, wrap your hand around it" he urged, watching as you slowly obeyed "Jus' like that" he said, his voice deeper now "go up and down now" 
you did, and you were fascinated by the feeling of his dick twitching in your palm and his skin rubbing against yours.
One of his hands reached the back of your head impatiently as you admired his length, urging you closer.
"use your mouth baby" he breathed heavily.
You slowly leaned closer and met your lips with his tip, leaving a little kiss on it.
He couldn't help but chuckle "Open it, sweetie," he said, looking down at you as you abided "Stick your tongue out for me" 
You did, and before you knew it, his penis was filling your mouth.
"Now suck" 
You hollowed your cheeks as best as you could and suddenly, his hand in your hair started guiding more and more of him into your mouth, until his tip hit the back of your throat and you gagged loudly as a tear ran down your cheek.
"that all you can take?" he watched you "We're gonna have to work on that, 'm not even halfway in baby" he smirked to himself, before retracting his hips and leaving your mouth empty.
Before you had the time to ask what he meant by that, he'd already given you another order.
"lay down"
You found your initial position again, and in a moment, he had grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed.
One of his hands was gripping his dick as he looked right in your eyes 
"Stay still" 
that's all he said, before he started pushing his huge cock into you.
"Ah!" You cried as you felt your hole stretch and burn and hurt all at the same time.
"Shhh" he shushed you, not listening as he continued to push.
"d--daddy it hurts"
"It's supposed to hurt" he lied "Now relax"
And you tried, you really tried, but once another inch of him invaded you, you moved away, or at least, tried to, since his hands started gripping you tighter, giving you no chance to move.
"I told you to stay still" he sounded angry, and you didn't want daddy to be angry, but it hurt so much.
Tears pooled in your eyes and your voice broke as you spoke.
"I-I'm sorry Daddy" a sob climbed up your throat "b-but it's too big"
I don't give a fuck if it hurts, just stay still, he thought, but of course, he couldn't say that.
"Daddy's just tryna help you baby" he cooed "Do you want Chad to make love to you?" he asked, earning a nod from you "Then you have to stop moving and let me put my cock inside of you, ok?"
You sniffled as other tears fell from your eyes "O-ok"
He pushed inside of you again and your cries only got more pathetic.
now if it were up to him he would have already forced his cock inside of you, ignoring your whines and enjoying seeing you cry from how big he was but... if he ever wanted this to happen again, he needed to be gentle with you unfortunately.
"here" he said, pushing his thumb past your lips "suck on it sweetie, that 'll calm you down"
You did as told, and even if it still hurt like hell, it did take your mind off of it a little.
"we're almost there" he promised, watching you take more and more of his cock "Just a little more and-" 
"Good God" he breathed, taking a moment to memorize every inch of your walls and the way they felt around him.
"you feel so fucking good baby" he groaned, his head falling to his chest a moment at the feeling.
You felt better than he could have ever fucking imagined.
"I'm gonna start moving now"
He retracted his hips and noticed with a sick enjoyment the blood covering his dick before thrusting into you so harshly that even if your mouth was busy, the cry you let out could be heard perfectly.
"such a crybaby" he cooed, thrusting into you particularly harshly just to hear you cry again for him.
He watched the tears fall from your eyes as he started finding his pace.
And slowly, oh so slowly, you started adjusting, and from the pain, came the pleasure, pleasure so strong it felt like it could kill you.
"fuck you're tight" he grunted, "look at you" his eyes alternated between your eyes and where your body met his "Taking all of daddy's cock so well" he groaned "Being so good" he hissed, as he fastened his pace "fuck-tell me how it feels baby, tell me how good daddy's making you feel"
His thumb left your mouth and a brutal moan left it with it.
"tell me" he urged you again, gripping your waist.
"'s so good" you whimpered while gripping the sheets "You feel so good, Daddy"  
"yeah?" he smirked, as a drop of sweat trailed his forehead 
"yes Daddy" you promised before one of his hands found your core and started circling your clit.
"Daddy!" you cried
"what is it baby, 's too much?"
"mh-mh" you nodded as your eyes threatened to spill again 
"it's ok, daddy's here" he cooed, "you trust me, don't you?"
"I-I do"
"then relax"
You swallowed thickly and you did as told, trying to calm your racing heart as your breathing got more and more ragged.
"daddy?" you whimpered, looking up at him with doe eyes
"yeah, sweetheart?"
"could you... could you kiss me please?" 
A smug smirk pulled at his lips "You want me to kiss you?"
"Yes please"
"you sure?"
"yes, daddy please!" you begged now, more desperate, and before you knew it, he'd bent down and his lips were on yours while his tongue was in your mouth.
He let out a low groan at how fucking heavenly you felt, while you tasted all of him like you were starving.
He was such a good kisser...
And right as he pulled away and whispered "fuck you're perfect" the same feeling that he'd given you with his fingers erupted all over again.
A low chant of daddy left your mouth and as you squeezed him so fucking good and so fucking tight Joel couldn't do anything but follows suit, emptying his balls inside your tight cunt and ruining you definitively.
Fuck it, he was gonna buy you a plan B tomorrow, and if that didn't work he'd just blame it on Chad.
"Jesus" he muttered, as he pulled out and fell next to you on the bed.
Both your chests were rising and falling way too quickly.
You turned to him, and when he noticed, he did the same.
"thank you so much daddy" you murmured, nestling closer to him and kissing his cheek.
"no worries baby" he smiled, putting an arm around you to keep you closer as he kissed your forehead "You did good"
"thank you" you blushed
"but y'know..." he cocked an eyebrow "guys like girls with a little experience"
"Really?" you asked, wide-eyed
"yes sweetheart" he nodded "So before you make love with Chad, I think it's best if we practice for a bit, what do you say?"
Your eyes found his, and all you could see in them was the perfect stepdad, helping you in any way he could.
"I'd like that, thank you so much, daddy"
Pt. 2 - Pt. 3
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