#He looks nothing like the animated version
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starrynights23 · 1 year ago
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The Valtor I wanted in Fate the Winx Saga
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Fate the Winx Saga Valtor
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artieseni · 3 months ago
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treyarch!!! make eddie a pathetic little meow meow like primis ricky and my life! is yours!! also give us the homoerotic subtext
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reference! dempsey finally snaps and beats up richtofen but then ricky pulls out his goofy smile and dempsey's annoyed he can't control his fluttering heart ok ty bye
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anormaladn · 8 months ago
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HEY- UHM----
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love-is-a-pearl · 3 months ago
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I tried a lot, I really tried, but in the end it's inevitable... JN ASH IS THE WORST VERSION OF THE CHARACTER AND THE FACT THAT HE IS THE FINAL VERSION HURTS MY SOUL!
Eh, while it's true he didn't do much in Journeys, I don't mind his characterization there. It's very Ash-like and consistent to what he had been through beforehand. There's some off moments, but bleh, every season has it too.
I think lots of people hate it cause too many folks keep projecting that he is older than 10 and when he actually acts that age, it feels OOC when... it really isn't... he is just acting his canon age 🤷
Also I'm the kind of person that is just glad he's gone. Period. His send-off was far from perfect, sure I wanted more from it, but at this point? I'm just glad it happened and for that alone I'm thankful for journeys.
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lyssafreyguy · 4 months ago
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Sasha from Animal Crossing for reference:
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minakoaiinos · 8 months ago
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Lost my original post of this from the other day but I genuinely don't understand how Black Butler discourse ever shifted into the does Sebastian ~really~ like Ciel or is Ciel just dinner line of conversation that is pervasive as it is because Sebastian is the one that has absorbed his whole existence into Ciel's. Sebastian's face is what Ciel wants Sebastian's whole purpose is doing things for Ciel Sebastian's every hell of a butler yes my lord speech is about how he's Ciel's and Ciel is the one going around saying shit like whatever Sebastian is just my pawn 💅
#like sjdjdkdd??????#it's not that i don't think ciel loves sebastian per se bc. well. i don't think he'd ever process it in terms like that no matter what...#...kind of relationship they have bc the most important thing to him is getting him to do tasks like a dog and proving he will over and over#which is why sebastian does it all so overkill#but the most acknowledgement you ever get that ciel likes sebastian is stuff like idk the fucking book of atlantic you did good today#or if we're feeling really crazy the you were the only demon there line#like the dynamic has gotten way skewed in fandom away from the actual text#and i know why but it's still annoying bc i am not even saying this in a shippy way bc i don't give a fuck about ships#but they're so crazy entwined and in completely incomparable inhuman situations that it literally has no merit on this story to sit and...#...definitely piece together how this relationship works with real life normie standards like it literally is going to fit into no box of...#...what we think of as friends or siblings or parents or partners bc no victorian guy on the face of the earth has a real pet demon.#it's so boring you're missing the bigger picture that they're everything to each other and completely stuck together forever#does x mean y mean z? (least problematic answer only) they're stuck together! forever!#and no one has demons in real life it's all comparable to real life nothing#other than the asthma that's real#anyway. it's like fandom has made up a version of this story in their heads that is so devoid of anything that makes the story the story#twitter is like another planet for this i am mostly talking about twitter where i have been looking for news about the anime and oh boy#i have said this before but sebastian doesn't have a grip on human relationships bc he's not one and ciel doesn't give a fuck#but like this post started with and strayed from. well. sebastian isn't even trying to act like he's indifferent. ciel actually is.#and we're all missing several funny bits from that just trying to fit everything into a box#we could have more interesting conversations if we got past the same three people have been having for 20 years#kuroshitsuji#my kuro posts
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shalvis · 7 months ago
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Xenoblade 1 is the best game like ever fucking made and it has two of the most dogshit sequels ever fucking made
#meows#remembering just how insulted I felt in 2017 when I preordered the sequel and really really tried to like it#I hadn’t experienced Game I Don’t Like before 2 and it took me like 40 hours to realize I hated it#and that shit at the end is such an INSULT. such an insult#you’re telling me that [redacted] was actually only half of himself the whole time and that 1 and 2 are taking place at the same time???#and that oh actually [expunged] is one of three computers when the first game made no mention of any of that#y’all really went back to say your complete first game actually is only HaLf of the story? that someone like [expunged] is only a third of#the force that ended our planet#y’all went back and hollowed out your existing characters to make room for worse versions of the same characters#AND you play as a dork nerd child who ends the game with three gfs bc this is story#and the gfs do nothing but sacrifice themselves for you like three times and look pretty#but they don’t look pretty to like. normal well adjusted people#they look pretty to the I like questionable art of 17 year olds crowd#and the GALL. the GALL. of changing [expunged]s design in the switch port to try to stitch his afterthought purpose into the old game#while also making him just whiter and whiter until by 3 he’s like fucking light grey#and having him have a canon genderbend that’s just anime waif#who is also fucking white#and giving Klaus’ counterpart a name that has nothing to do with Gnosticism#even though so much other stuff in the first game comes from Gnosticism.#who the FUCK is Galea!!!! her name is fucking Sophia#killing biting maiming#and the gacha system? with bad odds for no reason in a game you’ve already paid for#it’s so fucking messy#it lacks a unified art direction#it’s soulless and even a game like 3 where only HALF of it is 2 flavored can’t beat the original because of the portion of 2 in it#and like what. is it like the two universes reunited after [redacted] died🙃#why did any of this need to exist! why did any of this have to be retconned#x is fine I don’t hate x and I don’t count it as a sequel to Xenoblade 1 bc there’s no#half assed tie back to 1 in x#2 and 3 would have been better as like. tales of games
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touyaz · 1 year ago
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touji is the only exception to my Strong Man aversion
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gender-euphowrya · 6 months ago
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randomly put on a speedrun vid of gamecube ttyd and it made me notice some. interesting. localisation choice in the PAL version gkfjfkdd
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awxcoffeexno · 3 months ago
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ain't gon' ever deserve you
mutant!loganhowlett x human!reader one shot
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fic masterlist | nsfw claw worship
summary: logan has a nightmare and hurts you by accident - or - the one where you worship his claws the way they deserve.
content: mostly family-friendly claw worship. logan believes in the animal accusations but reader fixes it. reader is human, logan and reader have an established and v loving relationship, lots of reassurance and comforting for logan.
warnings: logan has nightmares, mentions of blood, logan self-hate, family-friendly knife play??????.
word count: 2.1k
a/n: listen, claw worship has been on my mind for a looooooong time. I'm too chicken to put up any of my nsfw writing yet so here's an sfw version with affirmations for poor baby lo-lo. also this is super inspired by logan and kayla's relationship and even uses some quotes from them.
you're deep asleep, dreaming of everything and nothing when you feel the sudden sharp sting in your arm.
eyes flying open, you open your mouth to hiss in pain but logan's lips are at your ear, snarling and grunting in his sleep again.
you look down to find his claws out, the metal tips digging into your arm. you exhale sharply, watching the warm blood seep down your arm and onto the new white sheets.
"no! n– no!" he growls, and you're forced to bite your lip as you try to pull away from his vice grip. when that doesn't work, you sink your nails into his arm.
"logan–"
"victor, NO!" he screams and sits up, yanking his claws from your arm and stabbing at the air in front of him.
victor creed. logan's brother and the bane of his existence. victor who haunts his dreams every single night, victor whose name you can never forget, victor who is now the reason logan's hurt you.
you sit up with him, aching for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. the burning pain in your arm an afterthought, you hear him swallow and gently let out a breath. he's sticky with sweat and the dry radiator air in the room isn't helping, the moon glowing through your glass walls, creating a halo around his head.
"nightmare." you state, letting him catch his breath and take in his surroundings.
he nods even though what you said wasn't a question but a statement. he twists around and pulls you into his lap, hugging you like he does near every night – chin tucked into your shoulder, arms wrapped all the way around your torso. he smells of soap and cigar smoke and the faintest hint of your shampoo. you smile to yourself and press a kiss to his hair.
"you're so cute." you mutter and a small smile spreads across his lips.
"cute?" he repeats, amused. "that's new." he pulls you closer, further down his lap and you can feel his heartbeat start to steady again.
"you used my shampoo again, and don't you deny it this time."
he scowls at you but lets you kiss him anyway. "reminds me of you," he sighs when he realises you won't stop until he admits it.
"but i'm right here," you giggle, running your thumb over the shell of his ear.
he opens his mouth to explain further but that's when he smells it. the blood he's drawn from your arm in his nightmare-fuelled anger at victor. his jaw tightens as he looks for the source of blood, finding three uniform slices on the outside of your forearm.
"no," he gasps, a thousand emotions crossing his eyes.
you try to wiggle your arm out of his grip, the blood running down your arm now. "hey... i'm okay."
"like fuck you are," he snarls, angry at himself.
how could he have possibly hurt you?! was this a thing now?? was he a danger to you even in his sleep?! god, he'll have to put you to sleep and then figure out a way to declaw himself. maybe if he just slices the back of his palms open–
"james..." you break him out of his thoughts, hand on his cheek. "baby, i'm okay. really. it looks worse than it feels."
"i'm going to rip these out." he whispers, holding his fists up, the back of his palms facing you. his words are as much a promise to you as a command to himself.
you grab his fists and glare at him. he blinks at your expression, looking at you over his hands.
"don't you dare say anything of the sort. these are a gift."
"a gift," he scoffs, "you can return a gift."
"these are a gift," you repeat sternly. "and i will not let you do anything to them."
he opens his mouth to protest but you aren't done. how dare he even think of hurting himself, of declawing himself when you love his claws as much as you love every last part of him.
you run your fingers over the back of his palms and whisper, "take them out."
"sweetheart..."
"take them out, my love" you repeat, kissing his knuckles because you know it hurts every time he does.
he carefully and very very slowly bares them and you look at him from between the blades.
not breaking eye contact, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the base of the middle claw on his right hand. you catch him shuddering and your eyes widen in surprise.
"you felt that?"
you can see him redden even in the dark. "'course i did," he grunts.
"what does it feel like?" you ask, fascinated. everyday you learn something new about him and it never fails to delight you.
you kiss the base of another claw on the other hand and see him inhale sharply.
he groans deeply, humming to come up with the right words. "like... you're stroking every nerve in me to life."
that makes you sit up on your haunches and wrap your fingers around his wrists. he freezes, bracing himself to yank the claws back in the second he thinks you might hurt yourself on the sharp ends. you carefully lick along the length of the claw between his pinky and ring finger on his right hand, making him exhale shakily.
"tryna kill me, sugar?" he says through gritted teeth, every muscle in his body tense.
"trying to show you how much i love your claws, lo. even if they hurt sometimes."
you loop your right hand between both of his, gently pressing the tip of your thumb against the sharp end of a claw. you run your finger up the blade, making him whine in protest as you draw blood.
his eyes implore you, pleading, but you simply take your hand up to his mouth, pressing your bleeding thumb against his lips. he relents, sucking it into his warm mouth and licking it clean.
"logan?" you whisper and he hums around your thumb.
despite the heat in your core, pooling between your legs, you need him to hear this. you'll have time to fulfil that need later.
"every part of you means everything to me. but your claws, especially your claws, have the most special place in my heart. they protect me. they make you feel good. and most of all, they're fucking cool."
and that finally makes him crack a smile again.
"y'think so?"
"mhmm."
"c'mere." he says finally, pulling his claws back in and tugging you back into his lap.
he makes you straddle him and kisses you warmly. he looks into your eyes with such fondness, it squeezes your heart. carefully he pulls his first claw out on his right hand and uses it to gently push your hair out of your eyes. your eyes flutter shut in response, leaning into his metal touch.
he brushes the back of the claw across your cheek and your lips part prettily for him. the air doesn't feel so thick anymore, the quiet humming of the refrigerator in the kitchen not overwhelming him the way it was when he snapped awake.
ever so carefully, pushing his own boundaries, he turns his wrist and pushes the flat of his claw onto your tongue. it's warm and tastes of him, salty and musky and like metal.
"that okay for you, pretty girl?" he mumbles and you can hear the strain in his voice. he's terrified but he so badly wants to be brave for you.
you wrap your lips around the claws and suck softly in response, drawing a groan of pleasure from him.
he shudders beneath you, every inch of him tense and trembling with restraint. you slide your tongue along the metal, tracing the edge of his claw with reverence, savoring the taste of him.
logan’s breath catches in his throat, and you feel the warmth of his exhale ghost across your face. his other hand, free of the adamantium blades, finds its way to your waist, gripping you tightly.
"god," he breathes out, voice rough and filled with a raw vulnerability you hear only at night. "you have no idea what you do to me."
you slowly release his claw from your mouth, letting it slide out with a deliberate slowness that has him biting back another groan. his eyes are locked on you, dark with need.
you reach up, cupping his face with your now clean thumb, and brush your lips against his in a featherlight kiss. "i think i do," you whisper against his mouth. "i want you to feel how much i love every part of you, logan. even the parts that scare you."
his claws retract with a soft snikt, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer.
"you're something else, darlin'," he murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. you can feel the smile playing on his lips. "you make me feel... whole."
you nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. "and you make me feel safe," you reply, closing your eyes and letting the furnace heart of his presence envelop you. "always."
you feel his grip tighten, his hand trembling slightly against your waist. he's always been the warrior, the weapon, the animal, but here in your arms, he's just logan, just a man who’s been through more pain than anyone should endure.
"people see the claws and think i’m nothing but a beast," he murmurs, his voice thick with self-doubt. "like i’m more metal than man. they look at me and all they see is the damage i can do."
you pull back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands framing his face. he tries to look away, but you won’t let him. you press a soft kiss to his brow, then his cheek, and finally, to the corner of his mouth.
"they don’t make you an animal," you whisper, your voice even and filled with conviction. "they make you strong. they’re not just weapons, they’re part of what makes you you."
his breath hitches at your words, and you feel him struggle against the years of conditioning, the years of being told that he’s nothing more than a killing machine. but you won’t let those words hold power over him anymore.
you reach down, gently taking his right hand in yours. with care, you press a kiss to each knuckle, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. then, you look up at him and slowly, deliberately, coax his claws out again.
you run your fingers lightly over the metal, tracing the curves and edges with the same care you’d give to a delicate piece of art.
logan watches you, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, something like awe. "you don’t see me like everyone else does," he says, almost to himself.
"no," you agree, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of one of his claws. "i see you, logan. the real you. and what i see is a man who’s fought for so long to protect the people he loves, even when it’s cost him everything. your claws, they’re not just about hurting or fighting. they’re about protecting. they’re about survival. and they’re about who you have been for so long."
his chest rises and falls with each breath, the tension slowly easing from his body as your words sink in. for once, he doesn’t feel like an animal. he feels like a man, just a man. and it's nice.
"besides," you say, tone lightening. "so you really think I'm such a baby i can't handle three little cuts?"
you both know you're underplaying it and though he would never admit it in the day, the moonlight across his face betrays his grateful expression. it's easier to believe that he hasn't hurt you too much when you're saying it yourself.
you lower his hand, resting it against your chest, over your heart.
he swallows hard, holding you as if he’s afraid to let go. "ain't gon' ever deserve you," he whispers, his voice thick.
"you deserve everything," you murmur back, holding him just as tightly. "and i’m going to keep reminding you of that, every day."
for a moment, he’s silent, just holding you close. then, in a voice that’s barely more than a whisper, he says, "you almost make me feel human, darlin’."
you pull back just enough to kiss him again, only because you know he'd much rather feel than hear. your kiss is slow and tender, letting him feel the truth in your touch.
he doesn’t say anything more, but the way he kisses you back, the way he holds you, tells you everything you need to know.
he'll be okay. you'll make him okay. you gently push him to lie down and rest your head on his chest.
you love him, you love how he wants so badly to believe you, and most of all, you fucking love his claws.
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this stemmed from a very nsfw thought™ but here we are, all warm and fuzzy. a mostly non-angsty fic is new for me!!
hope you liked this x
love, d <3
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edit: i wrote an nsfw claw worship fic too 🤠🤝🏽 >> unholy
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jinwoosbabyboo · 20 days ago
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Self-Aware!Sylus x Down-bad!Player
Sylus becoming aware he is a character in a game and now he’s aware of you as well. A modern day Romeo & Juliet story here …. A tragic love story A/N: Don’t fight me [Requested by: Anon]
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Self-Aware!Sylus who realizes he’s in a game when he can sense your energy on the other side of a phantom wall. He can hear you squealing when he calls you honey and you're radiating happiness when you send him random emojis.
Self-Aware!Sylus who finally sees you when he happens to be looking around during a photoshoot and sees your shocked face when he makes eye contact. He smirks and turns back to the in-game version of you. “Why are you out there?” You dropped your phone and stared at it in shock. Did Sylus just ….. talk to you? You muttered a low ‘Hello?’ but got no response. You brushed it off as you just being tired and on the game too long.
Self-Aware!Sylus who manages to create a keyboard in your chat so he can actually text you. You were so confused when you opened it and it allowed you to type without just pressing a prompt. You gave it a spin with a quick ‘Hey Sylus’ something simple. Of course the message was read immediately and he replied with a ‘Hello [your name]’ you stared at the screen in shock not knowing if this was a new update or if you were just going crazy.
Self-Aware!Sylus who chuckles when he sees you pouting because you didn’t get his card so when you close the app and lay down he gifts you the card himself. You opened the app and the first thing Sylus says to you is “I don’t like seeing you sad, check your memories I left a gift for you”. When you open your memories you see that you not only got his most recent card but all of his five star memories. “What's happening here?” “You’re smile is so captivating I just had to see it again”
Self-Aware!Sylus who opens the app randomly throughout the day so he can see you “I haven’t seen you all day what are you doing?” causing you to snatch your phone off the table because he always seems to catch you when you’re at work or around a group of people. “Sylus I'm at work I'll call you when I get off” he crosses his arms and seems to be pouting? “I don’t like how much you have to work I don’t see you as often” “Well not all of us are billionaires some of us work for said billionaires to make a living” “I wish I could take care of you….” “You and me both”
Self-Aware!Sylus who teases you when he wins a game of kitty cards or who uses his evol to get every stuffed animal for you when you get frustrated. “You sure do wear your heart on your sleeves sweetie”
Self-Aware!Sylus who stares directly at you when you’re doing a photoshoot with your in-game MC “Sylus focus on her so I can get the picture” “I want to focus on you though” “She is me” “…..she’s not”
Self-Aware!Sylus who tells you not to fall in love because he’s not real, but he falls head over heels in love with you anyway. From the late night conversations of you explaining your world to him and just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He can’t help it one night when you’re up late on the phone as always he just has to ask “Do you love me?” you’re shocked by his question, but swiftly answer with a shy “Yea I do”
Sylus: I thought we agreed not to fall in love Y/N: I was already in love you just noticed late Sylus: I believe I fell harder You giggled as something somber settled in your chest. Y/N: We’ll never truly be together you know? Sylus: I know and yet I continue to long for you …. I wish I could kiss you Y/N: I wish you could too…..
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Self-Aware!Zayne
Self-Aware!Xavier
Self-Aware!Rafayel
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certaimromance · 3 months ago
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𝜗𝜚 Cherry Picking.
Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
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Summary: After your first night with Spencer, you wake up and see that he's left you two dollars and a thank-you note on your bedside table.
Words: 2,3k.
TW: lots of mentions and references to sex, but nothing completely explicit. the reader is quite dramatic and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). SO MUCH chaos and lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: This idea just came to me out of the blue, and I have to say that Sex and the City has had a bit of an influence. I love the chaos, the conversations between friends, and Spencer being the best man in the world (I'm picturing him kind of like in his season four version).
♡ Enjoy! ♡
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Saturday afternoon
“Two dollars?!”
Penelope's and JJ's simultaneous exclamations and surprised faces when you finished speaking were pretty much to be expected. They noticed a change in your expression and took a moment to compose themselves, as did the rest of the people in the room, who glanced curiously at your table from time to time. It was certainly a fascinating sight, three women having an animated conversation about their lives over milkshakes as if they were drinks, especially considering that one of them was pregnant and her belly looked like it was about to explode.
You didn't blame anyone for reacting that way, especially not your friends. You were still pretty shocked by what happened, especially by how thoughtless the man you'd developed feelings for and worked closely with over the past few years was. It was a unsettling to find a tip on your nightstand after one of the most memorable nights you'd ever had. You still remembered the excitement you felt when you went to Spencer's apartment yesterday to watch a movie as part of your fourth or fifth date. He seemed nervous when you started kissing more intensely, and the couch wasn't the best setting. The sensation of your body on his bed and his lips on your skin was incredible.
It was a good memory, extremely good if you took away the embarrassment of waking up the next day in his empty bed with money waiting for you, as if you had performed a service.
“Maybe there was a misunderstanding and the money was left on the table by mistake.” Jennifer spoke again in a reassuring tone after turning the matter over. “Spencer can be a little clumsy sometimes.”
You pressed your lips together in a thin line as you listened to her attempt to provide an explanation for his actions. But given their friendship, this was to be expected.
“And he was in a hurry to catch his plane and go to his mother.” Garcia added with a forced smile, trying to lift your spirits. “It all makes sense.”
Yes, it was understandable that he was leaving in a hurry because he had to catch a flight to spend his weekend off with his mother. That didn't worry you, but there was something else that was curious.
“How do you explain the thank-you note?” You asked, taking out the paper and the two dollars you'd pulled out to show them as proof from your purse.
“It was a thank you for hanging out with him, a sweet gesture.” JJ said, taking a sip of her milkshake and patting her belly.
It seemed more like a sour gesture to you, that you had been left with your dignity on the floor. As you left his apartment, you didn't know whether to cry or laugh because it sounded like a bad joke that the only man you thought was decent and for whom you allowed yourself to have feelings would do such a thing.
“My love life is going downhill.” You said.
Just then, the restaurant door opens and Emily appears. After greeting her and apologizing for her late arrival, she asks about the cause of your apparent distress. As a profiler, she was astute enough to know something was wrong just by looking at you.
“What's wrong, honey?” She started talking as soon as she sat down next to you and took a quick look at the table. “Those milkshakes look good, I want one.”
“Spencer thinks I'm a prostitute.” You spoke up without thinking, which surprised Emily and caused her to briefly lose her grip on the menu.
There was a long, awkward silence.
Perhaps you were too direct in saying something that you had been trying to ignore for your own mental health.
“Just a heads-up, we've got a baby in the room. No need to say that word!” Penelope was the first to speak, gently covering JJ's belly with her hands. “He can hear you.”
At that moment, Reid and his comments about pregnancy data at every stage came to mind. You felt a little uncomfortable because you knew it was a little unrealistic to focus on the positives at a time like this.
“Oh, I'm so sorry, baby.” You looked regretfully at your friends and spoke to Jennifer's belly, giving it a gentle caress. “Don't listen.”
“I need context, please.” Emily said confusedly, trying to understand what was going on and why you had said what you had said.
You let out a deep breath, preparing yourself to recount the story once more.
“Okay, Spencer and I made...milkshakes. Very good milkshakes, really good if you know what I mean.” You tried to explain slowly, watching your words and your friends' expressions. “I woke up when he was leaving, he gave me a kiss on my forehead and said to keep sleeping, that he had to catch his flight.”
“That's sweet, but weird to know.” Emily commented quizzically, looking at the menu intently again. “What's the part...you know?”
“Oh, when he thought I was-” You stop yourself as you see how JJ looks at you. “A pie maker.”
You could tell from their expressions that they were about to laugh at your attempts to keep the conversation friendly.
“I woke up hours later to find two dollars on the nightstand with a thank-you note.” You finished the story. “To him, I'm worth two fu...sugary dollars.”
Prentiss stared at you for several seconds, waiting for me to tell her it was a joke. Only when that didn't happen did she speak. “That sounds weird and awful, but I don't think he would do something like that on purpose. Especially you, he really likes you.”
“He likes me enough to give me two dollars.”
When you finished speaking, you experienced a moment of discomfort in your stomach as your own words took effect. You were surprised to find that on a deeper level, what had happened was causing you more pain than you had anticipated.
“That doesn't sound like Reid at all. I've known him for years, and he's not that kind of man.” Penelope said with a frown, trying to reassure you. “I'm sure it's a mix-up.”
You were looking for the same thing and hoping it was just a misunderstanding, but your previous bad experiences made you think otherwise. You'd met enough men to know that they could always be worse. What was different now was that you really liked this particular man. You really longed for him to be different from everyone else.
However, things weren't always as you'd hoped. You'd invested a lot of hope in making your fairy tale come true, and it was starting to take its toll.
“Have you had a chance to speak with him?” JJ inquired.
“He's with his mother, I won't bother him.” You replied with a strange simplicity that made your friends suspicious. “I'm fine, I've calmed down.” You added as you saw their worried faces.
“I love you, but sometimes you scare me.” Emily said, watching you drink from your smoothie as if it contained a painkiller. “It's not okay to pretend that everything's fine.”
“It's understandable to feel a bit discouraged about this. Things may seem challenging at the moment, but I believe things will improve when you discuss this with him.” Jennifer's hand gently touched yours, offering a comforting gesture.
“I'm sure everything will be fine. You have our support if you need it.” Penelope joined in with the motivational words and gave you a reassuring smile.
You took the last sip of your milkshake and leaned back in your seat for a moment before replying. “I'm fine, girls. I don't plan to lose my head over a man, I promised myself.”
They looked at you with some skepticism, but you didn't flinch. You were confident that if you were mentally prepared not to be defeated, or at least not to look defeated, you would be well prepared for the day of the meeting.
You weren't going to lose your mind over this.
Monday morning
You were definitely losing your mind, and no cup of tea or internet video that promised to do so had been able to relax you one bit. You had been cooped up in the office you shared with Penelope for several minutes, pacing in your chair while everyone in the conference room waited for information about a new case and your presence. The mere thought of having to face Reid again was making you feel pretty uneasy.
All weekend, you had been trying to reassure yourself that you were doing well, that you were not hurt or affected by what happened, that it was just one more disappointment to add to the long list you had written since you were a teenager, and that it was normal for someone with your luck. You were not a princess, you were not going to meet a prince, and you were old enough to know that.
But being in the same building as your prince turned toad was not as easy as you had hoped. You prayed that your presence would not be necessary and that the jet would soon take off to take them all away, especially him.
A few sudden knocks on the door startled you. You automatically thought it was your boss coming to scold you for being late, and your blood froze.
“I apologize for the delay, Hotch. I assure...” You spoke promptly as soon as the door opened and a male figure appeared.
But obviously, it wasn't him.
“Oh, sorry, I'm not Hotch. But hey, how are you?” Spencer smiled at you and walked toward you, looking a little nervous.
“Fine.” You replied dryly, getting up from your seat to grab your tablet and some folders to carry into the conference room.
In your mind, you had planned to make a scene as soon as you saw him and make it clear that you didn't cost just two dollars. But after thinking about it a lot, the fear of losing your job over it was greater. And now it was a mixture of that reasoning with your feeling of paralysis at actually having him in front of you.
“I...I missed you over the weekend.” He stopped you before you could walk away, gently holding your hand. The feeling alone made you stop and look at him angrily. “I thought about you a lot, too much, and I bought you something.” He let go of your hand to pull a small box out of his pocket.
“How dare you?” You blurt out, taking a step back.
He looked a little uncomfortable and seemed to be in pain. “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to impose. Did I cross a line? I'm so sorry, I just thought-”
“What? That you could embarrass me even more? Didn't I already go through enough?”
That's when you took out two dollars from your purse and gave it to him.
“Could I ask why this is?” Spencer was still frowning and looked just as hurt as you.
His apparent lack of understanding of the situation made you much angrier. You had thought he was probably the smartest man you had ever met in your entire life, but suddenly, in your eyes, he was an idiot.
“I'm refunding your payment, Reid.” You replied firmly, without hiding your frustration.
The confusion on his face seemed to multiply as he tried to understand. “What are you talking about? I gave you your money back.”
You tilted your head slightly to one side.
“Saturday morning, I left on the nightstand the two dollars you lent me a week ago when we bought coffee. You know I don't like being in debt.” Spencer began to explain calmly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and present the facts in a clear and concise manner.
Oh, you do remember lending him money at some point, or rather, inviting him for coffee that he said he'd pay you back. That day when his hair was perfect in the wind, when he smiled at you and told you some interesting facts about coffee beans.
“I mentioned it when I said goodbye, but you looked so tired that I left you a thank you note in case you forgot.” He went on to explain. “A lot of studies say that you wake up to full strength at least 20 to 30 minutes after you actually open your eyes. And you still had them closed when I said goodbye.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I...I thought you-” You fell silent as you saw the stunned look on his face. You didn't want to look crazy, so you quickly added. “I just thought wrong.”
“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” He said, a little embarrassed. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh, no, I just...did you bring me a gift?” You changed the subject, taking the box he had previously offered you. Inside was a necklace with a cherry blossom charm.
“Your computer wallpaper is a picture of cherry blossoms. And I saw this necklace in a store when I was walking with my mom, and I thought you might like it. But it's okay if you don't want it-” He spoke fast until you interrupted him.
“I love it, thank you.” You smiled at him and took the necklace out of the box. “Could you help me with this?”
With some trepidation and uncertainty still present, Spencer positioned himself behind you with the jewel in his hands, carefully brushed your hair aside and fastened the necklace around your neck. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin made you feel a slight shiver.
“Thanks.” You said as you turned around to face him. You gave him a hug, though you were a little unsure.
He returned your embrace, feeling a sense of relief that things between you were okay. “You don't have to thank me.”
“It's not about the gift. It's just a way to say thanks for being you.”
Perhaps he was your prince after all.
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miupow · 3 months ago
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★ ── LE SEXE, JE VEUX DIRE !
what happens when you give the hyung line an aphrodisiac 。 。 。?
꒰୨୧ ꒱ pairing。stray kids hyung line x fem!reader genre。 pure smut , pwp warnings。 aphrodisiacs , sex while intoxicated , breeding kink , primal play , vaginal fingering , oral (m. rec) , deepthroat , unprotected sex , creampies , masturbation (m. rec) , phone sex , diy porn , sex while filming
a/n ⸝⸝ requested skz version of my txt drabble! i’m lowkey not a big fan of this… but here it is anyway lol. [ 0. 7k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]
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𝔅ANGCHAN
chris is completely sure the aphrodisiac candies you purchased wouldn't do a thing, just a silly marketing gimmick printed all over the foil packaging he turned over in his hands. but you had gotten them as a surprise, and the last thing he wants to do is hurt your feelings– so he casts aside his doubts and eats his share with a smile, ready to put on his best show of pretending to be affected. he wouldn't even be really acting, since you can get him going no matter what... yet to his complete shock reduced to a mess within minutes, panting and squirming above you, his hips canting up to press the swell of his clothed cock against the curve of your ass. his control slips when you grind back against him, pussy drunk and unable to think of anything other than fuck, claim, breed as he flips you over and mounts you like an animal. he’s definitely having you get more of these.
𝔐INHO
minho’s immediate response to you showing him the chocolates was to scold you for wasting money on worthless placebos. there was no way you believed that they would actually do anything, right? but he eats them with you anyway, because you’re very persuasive when you’re pouting. he’ll tell you they did nothing for him at all, as he’s knuckle deep in your pussy, your hot little mouth swallowing his cock to the hilt. he didn’t feel a thing, as he’s lining up his weeping tip to your entrance. he’s completely unaffected, watching with dark hazy eyes as his thick cum leaks out of your hole. those stupid chocolates had nothing to do with how he fucked you until the sun came up. and you let him believe it, because it gives you an excuse to try it again.
𝓒HANGBIN
changbin always finds some way to derail your plans… you had hidden some aphrodisiac chocolates your had bought in hopes of surprising him with them later, but you were never the best at hiding things— your boyfriend finds them within the first day. mistaking them for regular candy, he eats them without a thought; and hours later he calls you desperately from the studio, hiding in the bathroom with his pants around his knees as he fists his aching cock. the lewd wet sounds echo against the tile and harmonize with his pretty low moans, all filtering directly into the phone’s speaker and making your pussy throb. “i need you so bad,” he whimpers, his hand speeding up, “need your pussy so bad…” detailing in a needy groan every nasty little thing he planned to do to you once he got home, the growl in his voice enough to make your legs shake. you hated to ruin the mood, but you just had to know; “binnie, did you eat those chocolates in the pantry?” “um… maybe?”
𝓗YUNJIN
the candies were his idea, actually— he figured they were a perfect addition to the films he liked to make. you couldn’t even call them sex tapes, with how careful and artistic hyunjin was in filming them… but he loved to film often, and was always coming up with new ways to keep things new and exciting. sharing candies between kisses on camera, hands wandering as you lay tangled together on the hotel bed. the both of you growing hotter and needier as time went on, gentle caresses turning into rough manhandling, tugging at each other’s clothes til you were both bare in eachother’s arms. hyunjin looks straight into the camera with a smirk as he flips you over onto your hands and knees, your face buried in the pillow to muffle your scream when he slides his thick long cock into your wet pussy with one firm thrust. he reaches over to pick the camera up off of it’s tripod, angles it down so it gets a clear view of your asscheeks bouncing against his abs from the force of his thrusts, his big hand pressing down on your arched back as his cock splits your creamy cunt open. neither of you last as long as usual, deeply affected by the aphrodisiac and desperate for release— he makes sure to get the best possible angle of him pulling out and cumming on your ass, pearly white ropes of cum decorating your flushed skin like a painting. you’re his favorite work of art, and he just can’t get enough of showing it off.
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blackwaves · 4 months ago
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#btw this is why dazai sets him on atsushi #because atsushi is the reverse #he is entirely self preservation #he has trouble moving forward and he freezes #when dazai says “he's better than you” #that's what he means #he's saying see that? do you see that cowering weepy cat? that is the better extreme. #and then he keeps bringing them together because they need each other #atsushi needs akutagawa to be brave enough to act #and akutagawa needs to see what a will to live looks like from someone capable of absorbing the brunt of the fight #also as a reminder. akutagawa is not real. he is a seinen anime character with superpowers. #anime is a stylistic and exaggerated medium #do not work yourself up by dragging them from their context to frame their behavior as if theyre irl high school aged students #the pencil drawings are not hurting each other and cartoon violence is not 1:1 with real violence (tags from OP)
pm!dazai didn't abuse akutagawa. he reacted proportionately to the threat akutagawa posed to himself.
when dazai smacks akutagawa around in canon, they're running drills. dazai is not hitting him in misdirected anger or because he is venting his own suffering on him. akutagawa does not instinctually protect himself. in his fits of hyperviolence, he seeks to kill and be killed, and nearly is in beast, and in the course of his initial pursuit of atsushi.
he does not have the reflex or will or instinct to defend himself, and he is slow because he is having to consciously process the effort. his automatic reflex is to attack, but that will not stop him from being shot or overwhelmed or blindsided.
what they are doing in those scenes, what dazai is uniquely able to practice with him since rashomon can't pierce him, is not unlike cognitive behavioral therapy interventions. akutagawa is wired such that when he is triggered, he develops tunnel vision, pressing forward relentlessly without registering danger or responding to negative stimuli. this is a pattern developed from when he deemed dearh inevitable, and one which is liable to get him killed regardless of whether he has a reason to live.
he needs to consciously retrain his instinctual response, and he has to consciously and consistently reinforce it against his existing, much quicker instinct. he has to do it before he has the conviction or will to do it. and he has to do it over and over again, even when it isn't immediately life or death, because the instinct is self reinforcing, and the pattern he is trying to supplant it with is not yet.
skills are part of their users' framework for responding to their environment. jun'ichiro is anxious, but he can hide within light snow. kunikida has his notebook, but it has rigid limitations that he adapts to, similarly to how he works within the limitations of reality to keep from becoming consumed by his ideals.
akutagawa's skill, meanwhile, is wildly fucking disproportionate to akutagawa's constitution which is a problem when akutagawa wont react defensively. akutagawa is canonically frail, chronically ill, thin, and short (he's 5'8", but asagiri insists he's itty bitty every time he describes him in prose). rashomon, meanwhile, is monstrously powerful and hungry. it lends a false sense of untouchable violence when akutagawa himself is weak, and also is just really difficult to focus and control such that using it brings akutagawa into coughing fits. rashomon is also terrifying even in visage; it invites others to react with violence proportionate to their terror against the spectre of rashomon — but akutagawa is small, sick, and human; what is proportionate to rashomon is IMMENSE overkill if aimed at akutagawa. which is especially egregious because akutagawa will let them.
in other words, when dazai meets akutagawa, rashomon is as dangerous to its user as to anyone else. skills should not get their users killed. dazai is right. it's a shit skill.
akutagawa is vulnerable and self-destructive, and he and dazai are working to rewire his instinctual evaluation of his stakes. even when dazai punches akutagawa after akutagawa kills the mimic soldier, it's not a random act of violence or unregulated anger. the mimic soldier was not going to lead them to gide, there was no reality where they restrained him before he bit his cyanide, and he'd attacked dazai. but instead of reacting defensively at the opportunity, akutagawa fell to the former instinct, leaving himself wide open.
dazai reacts how he does because:
they are supplanting an ingrained instinct that is self reinforcing, the correction needs to be consistent to change the pattern and the former instinct needs to be discouraged with the same severity as the threat it poses;
by punching akutagawa first, dazai gave him notice and time to consciously muster the defense reaction theyre working on;
akutagawa needs to build an association between the defensive reaction and the triggering stimulus for this to work;
the context in which this happens is the exact sort of threat that rashomon is then ill equipped to handle— gide can see into the future, like oda, and mimic are military trained gunmen.
when dazai tells akutagawa that he couldn't ever defeat oda, he's not taunting him, he's right. akutagawa is relying on swift killing blows, but against someone who can see into the future, akutagawa is as vulnerable as a baby. and then, shortly after, that's what happens: gide wrecks his shit and is about to murder him dead when oda swoops in to grab dazai's dumb horrible baby kouhai who's trying to kill himself with the ambitious gusto of a horse.
as long as akutagawa fails to seek self-preservation, he is remarkably vulnerable. he's weak, and he's going to get himself killed. dazai doesn't coddle him about it for the same reason fukuzawa slaps ranpo for scampering into a police car with a murderer. you dont get praise for self endangerment.
dazai is not going to affirm a version of akutagawa that is trying to kill the boy dazai promised to save.
***
(also, this explains why akutagawa hates taking baths and being without his coat. dazai tried to instill in akutagawa the vigilance to register danger. in his absence, akutagawa strove to be worthy of demanding his approval by diligently practicing. but he's dazai's dumb baby kouhai who. takes things too far lmao.)
#text#!! fucked up mentor/mentee dynamics are as a rule catnip for me and dazai-akutagawa are. absolutely that#which is why i have been going insane since i first opened the bsd tag in 2021. i think a lot of people read them very differently than i d#i have said before that it's less a question of whether dazai abused akutagawa to me than the other ways their dynamic is fraught and messy#and i stand by that esp because i think the violence does not factor into what *akutagawa* is conflicted or concerned over#when it comes to dazai#i feel like i've seen a lot of interpretations that say akutagawa's... respect(?) for dazai is inherently incorrect and#needs to be dismantled or *is* being fully dismantled in canon#in a very picture-perfect uncomplicated abuse survivor recovering way. etc.#but i don't think that's the story being told + it would appeal less to me personally if it were#akutagawa himself would not be so interesting to me were he not as self-destructive and tunnel-visioned as he is in canon. and if dazai had#not Rewired His Entire Brain via heartless cur short story#re:stylized violence in anime#i think it's very fundamentally important with that stylization to look at tone + intention of physical actions#i'd take the fukuzawa-ranpo scene seriously in the same way i take the dazai-akutagawa scene#but yeah imo the message of neither scene is supposed to be About gratuitous violence or whatever. the violence punctuates a point#being made about the characters#anyway! sorry for the essay that is saying nothing <3#obligatory note i am also particularly fascinated by the line in the tags re:sskk's different attitudes towards self-preservation and how#they play a role in dazai pairing those two together#overall these are such refreshing + interesting takes on all dynamics mentioned#edit: thought tumblr ate my tags originally so if u saw a different version of them no you didn't. xoxo.
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skyrigel · 6 months ago
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Hi! I love all of your writing, could please do Benedict and best friend reader at a ball and he over hears some girls bullying reader and goes OFF and reader runs off and he thinks he’s embarrassed her but when he finds her she explains she found it super hot and then some smut please! 💖
You are in love 1 || B.B
Part 2 of " you are in love"
Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader, + Polin
Warning: fem! reader, no description of reader, friendly flirting and teasing, mutual pinning, use of inappropriate words, reader has a step sister. Fluff and angst, part 1 of you are in love. Part : 2 will be smut
Rigel's note 🪩: Thank you for requesting, and the compliment<3333 *smooches* I hope you don't mind me doing it in two parts :) the title is taken from Taylor Swift's song " you are in love", it popped as soon as I read best friend reader, hope it's not as bad as it's in my head, sending love back, also part 2 soon.
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" Perks of being a woman, you don't have to dance with Eloise bridgerton." You remarked when it was the fifth time Eloise stepped on lord White's toe.
Benedict snorted on his lemonade as he looked at you sideways, his iconic lop sided grin plastered to his smug face.
" I was her dance partner, " Benedict fake sniffed, wiping the fake tear, ", that too, before she started lessons."
You winced at the idea of Eloise before her lesson and gave Benedict a pat on his back for being ever the sacrifice.
" I thought that's why you danced wierd " you told him, smiling when he looked at you scandalously.
" Excuse me ?! " He narrowed his eyes, " you take that back ! " He slammed the glass down with force.
" Will not, you dance like...like a snowman ! " You beamed, slamming your fan down and glaring back, nose to nose, eye to eye.
" That never stopped you from dancing with me." He said smugly and retreated to his space with a satisfied look in his eyes when your jaw slacked slightly.
" You don't dance like a snowman with me." you told him in a small voice and that's when it hit you how gracefully he twirled you around when he was practically running away from other beautiful young ladies.
Benedict smiled, his eyes twinkling at you as he raised his brow, like in a question.
" And why would you think that ? " His mouth twisted and you didn't know what to say.
" Perhaps because I dance well...? " You tried and despite it being not the answer he expected, he laughed all the same.
" You dance like a ... a Kangaroo." Benedict thought hard and a muscle in his jaw twitched, he smiled proudly when he got the right word to annoy you.
" What's a kangaroo ? " You asked, you had heard it somewhere but it was easier to ask him than think hard.
" It's like..." Benedict motioned with his hands something like a vase," it's a cute animal." He finally said when nothing more could be made out from his gestures.
"Oh." You nodded and then it hit you, " Did you just call me an ANIMAL ?! " You snarled at him and he shaked his head with a chuckle.
" I called you cute too." He squabbled.
" Kangaroo's aren't cute ! " You jabbed at him and he chuckled, grabbing your wrist firmly, a spark so bright jolted inside you and you felt your face grow hot.
" Then I don't dance like a snowman—" you sticked your tongue out at him and he was lost in words, just looking, you saw the opportunity and yanked your hand away from his grip. He relented like a gentleman.
" You are always like..like running away and leaning off while dancing and it's so so snowman like." You argued and Benedict's eyes twinkled like moon.
" Have you seen a snowman waltzing ? " Benedict asked and you shaked your head, while clutching at your chest, you couldn't help the giggling.
" Yes if we are talking about a tall, handsome and smug snowman."
" You think I am handsome ? " Benedict ducked his head closer to your face and you felt your breath hitching in your throat, like air was punched out of your chest.
You rolled your eyes when it became too apparent that no word would come out of your traitorous throat and you couldn't help but gaze back at him, he looked back just the same, all fire and blaze.
" You didn't answer my question." He said slowly, each word carefully and it squeezed your heart how close his face was, how beautiful those eyes were, and that nose, and those cheeks, those lines when he smiled, he oftened and it was so warm and gorgeous, how you never noticed how captivating he was, every atom of his body was tied with an invisible thread with yours, a golden one. And you would be damned to think of that mouth, your lips parted at the ethereal site and Benedict smiled at that.
" No." You just said it, eager to say anything and break this moment, it was swirling you around in a storm.
" No ? " He questioned, frowning and he was handsome at that too, you were so doomed.
" You are silly like handsome, like some lord Byron poetry." you murmured softly, safe guarding the hammering heart in your chest and blinking at the sudden burn from his gaze on you, drinking you in, his brow knitted in funny way, a mock annoyance crossed his face.
" Lord Byron ?! Really, " he dropped back to his seat and you finally took a breath, then he covered his face like a damsel in distress and when he glanced sideways at you, he was smiling his brightest, oh, you just realised how goofy and precious and mesmerizing his smile was, you wished to stop time and paint it under your lids so everytime you close your eyes, you could meet him there, in your secret gardens and then a death like that would be sweeter.
" What ? " You exasperated when he refused to look away, even when your nose wrinkled and face basked in it's warmth, he wouldn't let go of you, taking each and every detail in like he was wishing to stop time too and paint you. He could, he was an artist.
" You called me poetry..." His mouth quirked up in a delightful grin, like it explained all the merry and you groaned, looking away as you huffed the tingling in your body that wouldn't go, your eyes landed on a very eventful moment.
" Is that our Colin ? " You raised your brow at Benedict who sat up straighter and turned his gaze to the other side of the hall.
" Why is he eye murdering lord Debling ? " You asked him, he winked and pulled your chair closer, not caring if any mama saw or perhaps lady whistledown herself.
" Penelope is dancing with lord Debling, and well she's laughing at something too, oh—" Benedict whispered in the shell of your ear and you barely nodded, Colin looked like he had enough, he was making his way through the crowd towards Pen.
" Forty shillings if he punches lord Debling." You piped up, Benedict shaked his head.
" You are gonna lose cupcake, he's gonna take Miss Featherington's hand and—" you gasped when Colin stopped abruptly, said something urgently and took Penelope's wrist between his hand, Benedict cocked his head to his side and winked smugly.
" And ? " You drawled and it amused Benedict beyond limits, like he has been waiting for it.
" Birds and bees." He said in a code like hushed whisper, you smacked the back of his head.
" I don't have a mother, you know." You told Benedict and he touched his upper lip with the tip of his pink tongue, he nodded along knowingly.
" Well, someone's gotta teach you."
" Mm.. you are my best friend." You would look anywhere but at him but your eye's were locked in his, he was being brave then so can you. One step, not much.
" I can not tell you birds and bee." Benedict said sincerely.
" Colin helped Pen ! " You said, nose flaring as he worried his jaw but didn't say anything.
" He told her how kids are made, something like going to a farm and then...well he kissed her but that's not the point." You blurted in a whisper, he listened intently.
" He kissed her already ? "
" Well a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell but a lady can, but that's not the point! " You pouted, his resistance crumbled but then again, bloody bridgerton.
" That's not my place cupcake." He was breathing hard, his mouth would open and snap close again, taking back all the things left unsaid.
" Well then—" you hated how choked your voice got, you tried, didn't you, it's not like you left it on god's cue, this was the biggest hint you could have given him and if he didn't got this, then only bricks might work.
Give him one more, a small voice said in your head, it was yours, but stronger and braver than you.
" —then you can tell me about love."
Benedict laughed on that, like it was the funniest thing you had said.
" You know what? I take it back, I am gonna ask someone—" you smoothed your skirt and began to get up when he pulled you down.
" Sorry, I didn't mean that, sorry, don't go leaving me stranded." He pleaded.
You looked at him hard, looking for any sign of humour and you found none, he was glittering when he clapped his tongue and opened his mouth, his soft tongue resting like a tired cat.
" Love," he began," is like music."
" Like music." You repeated, struggling with the fit laughter that shook your shoulders.
Benedict glanced at you offended but when he spoke next, it was how the poets said, with longing and desire, like bleeding for your beloved and when no blood was left then it was ink and parchment.
" You can hear it in the silence." He said, you remembered those afternoons when no word was said between you and your bestfriend and yet nothing was hidden and left unsaid.
" You can feel it on your way home." He said, penetrating his gaze in you eyes and he remembered damn well that night after he rescued you from the lake when you almost drowned, the terror of losing you, the spark of holding you closer than ever.
" You can see it with the light's out, it's so bright and golden." Everything is more beautiful with you Benedict, you told him one Sunny afternoon, basking under a tree while he read you poetry, Better than Byron.
" Loving that one person will make you love yourself, with them, you are enough." He was whispering now, chest heaving as his hand trembled and unknowingly yours found his under the table, locked eye's and joined hands and sacred whispered chants. It was enough.
" You aren't too much, or too little, or loud or boring, you don't have to be interesting or witty or anything, being youself with them is enough." I like myself with you, he had told you when you were sixteen.
" That's love, being safe with them is love, being their home is love, to be able to leave all shades behind and be naked in just body and soul and not being afraid, not being embarassed is love."
" Benedict..." Your voice was soft and sweet and it took him a moment to realise he was crying, when you gently wiped it's proof with your handkerchief.
" I...I will be back in a moment—" he stumbled out, still smiling a small smile and oh god what you have done, you have ruined him as well your self and nothing will ever be the same.
" Yes...." You said, because he was waiting for your approval, he nodded back when he got it and disappeared amongst the crowd as you watched him leave.
Love was indeed like music, the one you liked, it could be light as bee buzzing and sharp as thunder roaring in clouds, it could be slow and rhythmic and soft like water flowing, it could be the sound of his laughter and the way he drew his breath, it could be how he whined and joked and played and teased, for you, love was the music and muse of Benedict bridgerton and yes, you were very much doomed.
" What a pleasant site, a spinster smiling on her own, have you planned some scandalous plan of yours to bag some noble man ? " Claire wheezed in a duckling like laughter, shared with Asha Patil and Gissele Turner.
You refused to say anything, it only further added spice to their boring marital lives, with their husbands out and wombs empty.
" Would you look at her ? She's giving us that attitude, no wonder she's still unmarried ! " Scowled Asha, with her frizzy hair and crooked nose, her eyes coated in loathing of most tainted kind.
" She might had gotten the ring if she wasn't being Mr. Bridgerton's bitch." Gissele whispered it down to you and anger shot up through your veins and your eyes snapped to her, it didn't matter if she was your elder sister and the rage that blinded you was so fierce that you didn't feel when two big tears rolled down your cheek.
" Don't cry now, you can always be his mistress atleast." They all laughed, loud and big and white teeth flashing, with their fake diamond rings rubbing in your eyes but it was too blur, you saw nothing, you heard nothing, everything was drowning around you.
" Speaking of mistresses, Lord Hasting has bought a bigger estate for his mistress than your home in east London and I wouldn't blame him lady Hasting."
You can hear it in the silence.
It was your love's voice, it was your Benedict speaking and you lifted your mascara stained lashed eyes at him.
If you had known him less than you couldn't have known of the terrible anger that was shaking him, that smile was no ordinary, it was feral and stray, wanting to tear anyone who dared to come near, he was burning in anger that was beyond words.
Claire sizzled at that remark, turning her hand to her palm side and only moments ago she was flashing her ring and now, she was hiding it.
" Don't ruin your reputation by showing ungratefuls such as her your pity Mr. Bridgerton." It would've hurt less, were it Claire or Asha, but it was your own half sister, be it half blood but blood all the same.
" Lady Turner, i have no wish to speak to you, you have hurt my best friend beyond words, you had taken her affections for granted so if someone's ungrateful then it's sorely you, you don't deserve a sister like her, she's too good for all of us." He was carefully placing the word and his anger slipped between, his teeth grinded and breath hitched, you stared, just at him and him, everything was getting dimmer but you knew in that moment, you would know him in darkness.
you can feel it with the light's out.
He had done many things for you, Benedict stole Anthony's horse to take you out on a midnight ride, he nicked Colin's sword and taught you fencing, bought ribbons of your favourite pastel silk, saved your favourite sweets, and so many and so more, but this was something you couldn't have done yourself if you wanted, he had done it, he had stood up for you and it was the most gleaming moment of your life, he wasn't playing hero, he wasn't being mean, he was protecting your with your honour and Benedict, the gentleman who wouldn't hurt a fly, he was going to dagger them down with words alone.
He was speaking and speaking and they were all quiet, their eyes low and nose bowed down, he was speaking and speaking, words clear with pure affection and respect and then your felt it.
The warmness aroused in your womanhood and an inaudible gasp parted through your lips as you felt the slicky wet feeling caress your inner thigh and the sensation was so electrifying that you had to close your eyes in order to take a breath and even then, you could feel his words, soft and praising, " ......if you were half good as a woman she is....." He was breathless and he wasn't stopping and something inside you wanted to cup his face and tell him, don't Stop, never stop.
And then his eyes looked for you, he found your gaze and held it and you felt the shame, you couldn't do this to him, this burning desire would take you both down in flames and what it would be to become one, only in ashes, it was scaring you.
And before you could think of say anything, you were already on your feet, stumbling through the crowd with your gown kissing the floor behind you.
You didn't know where you were going but far, away and this feeling wouldn't let go, you knew well but you wanted air, the warmness that was spreading was maddening and the hunger was tugging under your skin.
He was calling out your name, you hated yourself but you needed to run, this love would ruin you, what if Benedict hated you if you told him how you felt, how you thought about him, would he call you a whore along with Gissele, would it hurt more ?
More than anything.
His voice turned to pleading as crowd thickened and you were getting out of his sight. You wouldn't look back, because if you did then you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from doing something very stupid.
You were out of the gates, descending down the stairs as one heel slipped out but you didn't care, you were on a run.
Johnny was already motioning the horses as you frantically climbed in, you could see Colin chasing down Penelope's carriage in a distance as you opened the window to inhale heavy gulps of air.
Would Benedict Chase you down too ? Would he come and look for you ? And if he did, what would you tell him ?
You are my best friend.
Part 2
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago
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daddy
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words: 8.8k
warnings: 18+ only!!!, smut, stepdad!rafe, pervy!rafe, rafe meets reader when theyre 17 but nothing happens until 18, lots of use of daddy, taboo sex, age gap (rafe is early 30s reader is newly 18) scammer!rafe??, cheating, unprotected p in v sex, breeding, male and female receiving oral, fingering, virgin!reader, innocent!reader, lots of pet names (little one, little baby, baby girl, etc), reader is described as small chested and feels insecure about it, manipulation, power dynamic holy shit thats a lot of warnings
taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450
rafe wasn't sure what to expect when he learned his newest mark had a 17 year old daughter. 
he had long been cast out by his father, ward keeping him far away from the cameron investments, but he still carried the name. 
rafe had found a new way to fortune, one that allowed him to rely on his natural talents, good looks and charm. he flirted with wealthy (usually older) women until they agreed to a date, then had them fall so completely in love that they married rapidly without prenup only for rafe to divorce them later and take a hefty sum away from them.
he already repeated he process three times in a little under five years. he was worried about the reputation he would get, if the rich women of the outer banks and surrounding areas would discover his scheme and he would be out of luck, so when a new divorced mother of one moved in to a sprawling mansion, rafe was quick to greet her and turn he flirt on.
the first time he saw you he was shocked how different you looked from your mother. he pictured her daughter to be a miniature version of herself, bold and chatty, flaunting tacky jewelry and guady animal print.
but you were almost the stark different. sharing the same bouncing head of curly hair was where the similarities seemed to end. it was a ‘family pool party’ where rafe first saw you. it was more of an excuse for your mother to bring her friends around and show off her new younger boy toy who was just head over heels for her.
you greeted rafe with a quiet hello before retreating back into the shade, covered in a pale yellow sundress, but the blue of your bikini straps were peaking out, making rafe hopeful that you would get into the pool, but you spent the entire party under the shade of the balcony while your mother paraded him around.
he found a quiet moment while she was distracted with her margarita to slip away, coming to sit next to you on the soft white jacquard couch, another symbol of your mother's wealth, having such an expensive piece of furniture outside without a care if it dirtied or got ruined my the frequent bad weather.
“hello little one.” rafe says softly, afraid by the look on your face that he would startle you into running and hiding.
“hi rafe.” you whisper, hands twisting in your lap as nerves turn in your stomach. he's the first man your mom has dated since her divorce, and you're glad to see her happy, but rafe is not what you were expecting. your mother told you her new boyfriend was young, but you didn't expect early 30s when your mother is pushing 50. “my mom has told me a lot about you.”
it's not exactly a lie, she has gone on and on when she gets home from dates with rafe, it's just that you've gotten very used to tuning your mother out.
“yeah, she's told me a lot about you too.” rafe leans in closer, “why don't you tell me a bit more?”
“i-i-um.” you stutter over your words, eyes shooting down to your lap after making brief eye contact.
“do i make you nervous, y/n?” rafe asks, practically purring your name out.
you laugh awkwardly, tucking your hair behind your ear as you fein a sudden interest in the partygoers to give you an excuse of something to look at. “everyone makes me nervous.” you whisper. it's not like rafe doesn't already know, you're sure he can tell from your behavior. you have a lot of issues after your dad abandoned you and your mom, and it manifested mostly in anxiety.
“oh, poor baby.” rafe pouts, placing his hand on your chin and turning you to face him, not letting you avoid the eye contact.
“im not a baby.” you say, eyes flickering all over rafes face as you take in the details close up, his powerful cheekbones and shining eyes. “i turn 18 next month.”
“oh yeah?” rafe releases your chin, and you somehow gain the confidence to keep looking at him, drinking in his features. “are you going to invite me to your party?”
“im not going to have a party.” you say, like it's obvious.
rafe goes to push back, starting to argue “but a pretty little thing like yourself-” when your mother cuts him off with a yell of his name, making both of your heads snap to her, where she's waving rafe over to introduce him to a new friend that just entered the backyard.
rafe sighs, slipping his hand onto your lap and giving your thigh a squeeze before standing up. he looks back before he walks away, again maintaining eye contact as he says “it was nice to meet you y/n. ill be seeing you a lot more from now on.”
and rafe keeps true to his word. he continues to swoon your mom, but makes a point to spend time with you as well. your mom sees it as a show of how serious he is about the relationship, she doesn't realize how rafe looks at you.
“your birthday is this weekend?” rafe questions, but it's more of a statement. he takes a strand of your hair and twirls it around your finger, unable to keep his hands away.
“yeah.” you whisper, trying to pay attention to the project you were working on, your sketchbook sat in your lap, angled so rafe couldn't see what you were drawing.
“and you still don't want a party? what do you want to do then little one?” rafe kept using the nickname, even after you pushed back that you are almost a legal adult and not little.
“i don't even have any friends here.” you sigh, almost wishing you were back in high school so you could have a way to meet people your age. “they're all back in california.” 
you send out a silent curse to your father, and your mother. your father for leaving you, and your mother for reacting to it by moving across the country to the opposite coast, escaping the pain and embarrassment in favor of you losing all your friends and everything you knew.
“what are you going to do for your birthday then?” rafe asks as you start to draw again, finding it easier to talk when your charcoal pencil is also moving against the page.
“probably nothing. maybe see a movie.” you shrug. you've gotten used to doing things on your own. despite mostly staying in the house, you did occasionally need breaks from the same scenery, and more aptly, your mother. you always hoped you'd meet someone your age, but even when you were out doing things solo and saw other teens, you couldn't bring yourself to speak to them, your shyness winning the battle over wanting friends.
“i'll come with you, little one.” rafe offers. he was close to getting a ring on your moms finger, in record time. the divorce made her not only vulnerable but also needy to replace the husband figure in her life, not realizing that all of rafes money came from running this same scam. he could use hanging out with you on your birthday to his advantage, showing your mother how serious he is about the relationship.
“okay.” you whisper, hand shaking causing you to mess up the drawing, excited and nervous for the weekend. it's not that you dislike spending time with rafe, he just makes you nervous, like any ridiculously good looking man would.
“i’ll see you saturday then.” rafe says, standing up as your mom enters the room, now dressed and primped, ready to go on the date rafe was whisking her away on.
you keep your eyes trained on your sketchbook as rafe greets your mother with a kiss, and you cringe knowing her tacky red lipstick is going to leave a stain on his mouth, but you don't look up to see.
--
“hi little baby.” rafe greets you after sending your mom out for a spa day, giving you time to go see a movie together. you don't even care that your mom is away on your birthday, you rather spend it this way.
“hi rafe.” you say, not bothering to correct him that you are in fact 18 now and not little or a baby.
rafe surprises you when he wraps his arms around your shoulders, squeezing you into a hug. you freeze up, not used to the intimate contact. your dad never hugged you his way, and your mom was never very affectionate either. 
“happy birthday.” rafe purrs into your ear, burying his head in your hair, nuzzling into the curls.
“thanks.” you mumble, keeping your arms flat against your sides as rafe pulls away. you definitely didn't have the confidence to hug him back.
rafe stays quiet as he leads you out the door with a steady hand on your back, making you shiver as goosebumps rise up your arms despite the warm north carolina air. he even gives you a hand to help you up into his truck.
“do you want to get dinner first, pretty baby?” rafe asks you as he starts up the truck and shifts it into gear. you feel your cheeks flame at the name, wriggling your hands together in your lap in nervousness.
“no.” you whisper, and you're surprised rafe can hear you over the sound of his truck. “i, um-” you pause to clear your throat. “i don't want to get full on food and not want popcorn. maybe we can go after.” 
“sounds good.” rafe says, even though you don't really want to be spending more time with him. it's not that you don't want your mom to be happy, but it's weird to see her with someone other than your dad.
rafes hand slides across the center console, gripping your thigh through your jeans. you tense your leg in surprise at the contact, expecting him to squeeze and then let go, but rafe keeps his hand on your thigh the entire ride there. 
“hold on, i’ll open the door for you, birthday girl.” rafe says after pulling into a parking spot. you wait for rafe to walk around the hood, tugging to door open and giving you a hand out that you graciously accept, willing to put up with the physical contact so you don't risk falling and embarrassing yourself even worse.
rafe leads you into the theatre, and he orders the tickets and popcorn for you, knowing how much you hate talking to others, especially service workers.
“im so excited to see this movie!” you say, taking your seat towards the back of the theatre, rafe setting the popcorn on the armrest in between the two of you. he's surprised to see how genuine your statement is, finally opening up and showing a bit of your emotions.
“if you're excited, then im excited too little one.” rafe says, grabbing a piece of popcorn and sticking it in his mouth.
--
“y/n i want to ask you something.” rafe calls, stopping your quick ascent up the stairs as you tried to flee before he or his mother stopped you. 
“okay.” you mumble, walking back down the couple stairs you had managed to make it up.
“in private.” rafe clarifies, and you glance between him and your mom, but she just nods that it's okay before turning to the kitchen, becoming distracted by finding herself some wine to drink.
“we can talk if your room if it makes you more comfortable.” rafe says, and you blanche at the idea. no one ever goes in your room, not your mom or even the maids.
“how about the study?” you offer instead, your second favorite location in the house, with cherry wood bookshelves covering every one of the walls and two plush couches in the middle providing a comfortable reading area.
rafe places his hand on your back, fingers playing with the material of your sweater as you walk to the study. upon entering, you flick on a lamp and sit down on one of the couches, hoping rafe will take the one across from you, but of course he slides right next to you, pressing your thighs together.
“what is it you want to talk about?” you ask, your heart beat somehow remaining steady. you realize it's because you've become more comfortable around rafe, even if his touches did still send a jolt through your body.
“ive really been enjoying spending time getting to know you, little one.” rafe places a hand on your thigh, just under where your shorts end. he looks down, marveling how soft your skin is and how small your legs are compared to his hand. “your mother as well, of course.” rafe adds, almost like she's an after thought.
“i was hoping that you would want to spend more time with me. i would like to ask your permission to ask your mother to marry me.”
your eyebrows shoot up at the question. rafe has only been dating your mom for around five months now, and marriage this soon after a divorce seems like such a rush decision, but who are you to judge? you've never been married, you've never been in love.
“i-i guess that would be okay.” you see how happy rafe makes your mom, who are you to deny her that happiness?
“thank you.” rafe smiles, hand moving higher until he's tucked in between your thighs, feeling the heat radiating from your core. he strokes over your thigh as you spread your legs ever so slightly, giving him more space to work. your eyes fluttered closed, lost in the pleasure and rafe hasn't even touched over your underwear yet, just focusing on your inner leg.
“gonna be your new daddy.” rafe hums, his voice bringing you out of the trance that his hands put you in.
you stand up suddenly, making rafe frown as you run out of the study and up to your bedroom, slamming the door shut and heading over to your desk, looking at the drawing of rafe that you had just finished. you take the piece of paper and turn it face down, not wanting to think about him at the moment, wondering when he is going to propose to your mother.
--
“i can dress myself.” you say, looking at the sparkly pink dress hanging on the back of the door, decorated in fabric petals to signify your role as flower girl, even though you told your mom that you were okay not being part of the wedding party, she insisted that you had to participate in her special day.
“your mother specifically asked me to help you get dressed. what kind of future husband would i be if i didn't listen to her?” rafe raises his eyebrows, already dressed in his wedding suit.
“can you turn around then?” you question, gesturing for him to turn, face out the window of the venue your mother had rented for the wedding. the grounds are beautiful, filled with flowers and neatly trimmed bushes.
“what if something happens, baby?” rafe shakes his head. “i can't help you if im turned around.”
“you want me to get undressed in front of you?” you squeal.
“come on, im about to be your dad.” rafe says softly. “besides, im just helping you into your dress. unless you want me to help you take those clothes off too?”
“no!” you shake your head, looking one more time to rafe to see if he's going to look away, but he makes no move to as you pull you unbutton your shirt, careful not to have worn a shirt that required pulling off over the head since your hair and makeup is already done. 
you're thankful for the simple bra covering your breasts as you keep your eyes on the floor, tugging your pants off. 
rafe stands up straight from his position leaning over he armoire and grabs your dress, lowering it to the ground so you can step in, having already unzipped it in preparation.
you step in quickly, wanting to get covered again as soon as possible, feeling the burn of rafes stare on your scantily clad body, but for your fast movements, rafe is slow, gliding the dress up your body, hands occasionally brushing against your bare skin until the neckline is finally in its proper place.
rafe rounds your body, tugging the zipper up, again letting his finger drag against your skin all the way up.
“you look so beautiful.” rafe ducks his head, kissing your shoulder. you gasp at his lips on you, leaning back into his body as your mind goes dizzy.
“can't wait to be your daddy.” rafe presses another kiss to the space between your shoulder and neck before standing straight, wrapping his hand around yours. 
“let me walk you outside, little princess.” rafe is glowing, and you know logically it must be because of his wedding day to your mom, but a large part of you hopes that it's also because he's excited for you as well. 
--
“how does a boat day sound, little one?” rafe asks, tugging on your curl that had fallen in front of your face.
“i thought mom had a facial today?” you question, closing your book after slotting the bookmark to save your page.
“she does, i thought the two of us could go. some daddy daughter bonding time.” rafe says, always making a point to have solo time with you since he got married to your mom two months ago.
“okay, that sounds fun.” you nod, wanting an excuse to lay out and tan, and you've found yourself loving spending time with rafe, especially now that he was officially part of the family. he certainly would never replace your dad, but he's made an effort to make you more comfortable around him.
“let me help you pick out a bikini.” rafe says, and you hop up off the couch as he starts to move towards your room.
“no, rafe, that's okay.” you rush after him, taking the stairs as fast as you can.
“come on, let me see. ive never even been in your room!” rafe says, reaching for your doorknob, but you thrust yourself in front of the door, blocking him.
“i… i have my drawings on the wall. i don't want you to see them.” you bite your lip, hoping rafe doesn't push.
“drawings of me?” rafe asks, touching his fingers to your chin and tilting your head up.
“some of them.” you admit, opening the door and trying to close it before rafe can see, but he grabs the wood and forces his body in before you can slam it behind him.
you press your back into the wall as rafe scans the room. you have an entire wall decorated with your drawings taped up. most are black and white with charcoal but you've colored some in as well. there are a lot of rafe, a lot of your mom, of friends you miss that live back in california. the one rafe walks up to is a nature sketch, of the outer banks beaches that you've come to live just as much as the packed los angeles ones.
“you're so talented.” rafe says earnestly. “how come you don't show people your art?” 
“because they're just for me.” you say honestly. you've never had the urge to show your drawings to other people or pursue art further. it just wasn't something that girls in your family did. they were good wives and hostesses. they didn't have time consuming hobbies, especially if they didn't create an instant profit.
“well if you ever decide to sell anything, let me know right away. i’d pay anything to have one of your works hanging in my house.”
you don't mention that his house is now your house, considering he moved in with you right after the wedding. you're too busy blushing over the fact that he likes your art that much, what you deem just quick sketches, he thinks they're good enough to be displayed.
“now where are your bikinis?” rafe questions, moving on from the conversation, knowing you're not bold enough to change the topic yourself.
“um, hold on.” you open up your closet and grab a box out, dumping them all onto your bed. you're not sure why rafe wants to choose your swimsuit, but you don't question it.
rafe hums as he looks through the bikinis, tossing the ones he disapproves of back into the box.
“you dressed pretty slutty back in california, huh?” rafe looks at you, now moved back to your position of being pressed against the wall.
“i-” you begin to explain yourself, but rafe bursts out laughing. “don't look so scared, little one. im not angry. why don't you wear this one?” he tossed your orange bikini at you, probably the skimpiest one you own with the back being just a thong and cups barely big enough to cover your chest.
rafe doesn't say another word, exiting your room and leaving you to take a deep breath. you change into the bikini, looking at yourself in your full length mirror, surprised how much you've filled out the bikini since you last wore it a couple months ago. north carolina has done well for your appetite, filling in your stomach and plumping up your bum. you try to adjust your top to give you the illusion of bigger boobs, but it doesn't work. that's one part of you that didn't fill out at all.
you pull a coverup on over your body before you slip your feet into your sandals. rafe may have seen you in your underwear before but the various employees your mom always has around the house have not.
“ready, pretty baby?” rafe asks when you plop down the stairs, a tote bag in hand that you can see a couple water bottles sticking out of. rafe must be planning on taking the speedboat instead of the yacht, considering your mom insists on keeping it fully stocked despite not really enjoying being on the water, preferring to look at it from afar.
“very ready, d-” you pause when you realize you were about to call rafe daddy. you have just called him by his first name since he got married to your mom, but it almost slipped out anyways, some part of your subconscious associating him with that.
“it's okay, little one, if you want to call me daddy if you want to, or you can just call me rafe.” rafe says, taking your hand as he leads you out towards the dock, looking like your personal marina. you just nod on acknowledgement.
“speedboat today?” you ask as rafe leads you down.
“whatever you want.” he shrugs.
“something with a bed that i can lay and tan on?” you suggest, and rafe steers you towards the smaller of your family yachts.
you take a seat near the front of the ship as rafe goes to the helm to steer you to a secret spot he claims to know of. you pull out your sketchbook and shield it from the wind as you sketch out your view of rafe, a story up behind the dashboard of gears and gages as he drives the boat. you even include the reflection of the sun on the glass.
“here we are.” rafe anchors the boat near a sandbar with clear pale yellow sand, surprisingly devoid of any seaweed or debris.
“it's so pretty.” you say, making a mental note to sketch it before the tide rises. “it must have been so nice to grow up here.”
“mmm.” rafe nods, taking his shirt off. your eyes widen as he reveals his muscles. it's not the first time that you've seen him shirtless, but you've never been this close, and never alone.
“wanna swim before you tan kiddo?” rafe questions.
“um, yeah.” you shrug. you weren't that interested in swimming originally but now that you're at the sandbar you'd definitely like to explore.
“then you'll have to take your cover up off, show me your cute little body.” rafe says, tugging on the strap of your clothing.
“oh, right.” you hum, pulling the dress off over your head. rafe bites his lip, placing a hand on your waist. 
“how do you not have a boyfriend? with a gorgeous body like this.” rafe sighs, slowly moving his hand lower, tangling his fingers in the strings of your bikini bottoms.
“shy, remember?” you giggle, letting yourself step closer to rafe as he looks down at you.
“you're too pretty to not be appreciated properly, little baby.” rafe sighs again, like he's actually upset at the thought of you being lonely.
you suddenly remember that rafe isn't some random older guy interested in you, but your step dad. the man your mom is newly married to. you step away and to avoid speaking any more, jump over the side of the boat into the sparkling water.
--
“so just rafe and i for the next week?” you question your mom, following her around her luxurious master suite as she packs a suitcase.
“it may be two weeks.” your mother says, shoving her clothes in before turning to her wall of heels.
“why isn't rafe going with you?” you question.
“y/n.” your mother sighs, stopping her work to turn to you. “please leave me alone to pack. i have to finish this divorce settlement with your father. as much as i'd like to show rafe off to him, rafe has business he needs to tend to here in the outer banks.”
you go to question what business, considering rafe doesn't seem to do anything other than flaunt after your mother, or sneak away moments with you when she's busy, but your mother gives you a pointed look so you shut your mouth, leaving the room.
--
“itll be nice to have some alone time with my favorite little girl.” rafe says, throwing his arm around you, pulling you into his side. you lean into him, reminding yourself over and over that your dad used to cuddle like this on the couch with you when you were little.
“don't you have business?” you question, letting your finger trace patterns on rafes jeans, swirling over the rough material.
“nothing that's more important then spending time with you.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you're glad he can't see your face as it turns pink.
“could we have ice cream tonight?” you ask. you've been allowing yourself more and more to indulge in sweets.
“that sounds good, honey. do you want to choose the movie?” rafe hands you the remote and you turn something on, keeping yourself resting against his warm body.
you're about halfway through the movie when your tummy rumbles. you honestly got so engrossed in the film you forgot you were even leaning up against your step dad.
“is baby girl hungry?” rafe questions. “we can pause the movie and eat some ice cream now.”
you reach for the remote and pause it, mumbling something about wanting strawberry ice cream as rafe follows you into the kitchen, opening up the freezer and pulling out strawberry for you, and vanilla for himself.
“hey kiddo, get us bowls.” rafe asks you as he gets spoons. you have to get on your tiptoes to reach the shelf the bowls are on, cursing your short mother for giving you these genes. 
you slide yourself up onto the counter as rafe hands you your now filled bowl. you barely have time to say thank you before putting the spoon in your mouth, letting out a moan as the taste hits your tongue. you've been craving ice cream all day and it's completely hitting the spot. you work quickly through the bowl, letting your satisfaction out in the forms of moans.
“stop moaning like that, baby.” rafe says, making you jump from the sudden and unusual roughness in his voice.
“‘m sorry.” you look down at your bowl of ice cream, setting it on the counter.
“it's okay.” rafe sighs, setting his bowl down as well.
“are you upset with me?” you ask, feeling tears well up in your eyes.
“no, little girl, im not.” rafe frowns, moving between your legs, your face for once the same height as his with you sat up on the counter. he takes your face in his big hands, stroking the rough pad of his thumb over your cheek.
“sorry baby girl. will you forgive me?” rafe tilts your face to keep you looking at him.
“yeah.” you nod, just glad that rafe isn't annoyed with you.
“you have ice cream on your mouth.” rafe says, and you reach up to wipe it off when rafe suddenly leans in, his mouth pressing against yours, tongue flickering out and licking over your lip, tasting the strawberry ice cream as well as a taste that is simply you.
you gasp in surprise, allowing rafe to slip his tongue into your mouth. you're not sure what to do, or how to react. you've kissed before, but never one as passionate or with this much tongue involved. 
rafe presses another kiss to your lips before pulling away. your eyes are wide when he doesn't say anything to explain himself, simply looking at you.
“you just kissed me!” you say, as if he's unaware of his actions.
“i did, baby girl. did your dad not give you kisses?” he tilts his head to the side.
“maybe when i was little, and certainly not like that.” you gulp, wondering how your mom would feel if she saw that, but she wasn't home of course.
“well then it sounds like he wasn't a good father. good thing you have daddy rafe in your life now. do you want another kiss?”
“i- i think i do.” you say, licking your lips, not giving your brain any time to become reasonable and back out. 
rafe presses his lips against yours again, and you find yourself kissing back. you fist your hands in his shirt, tugging him closer as you moan into his mouth, repeating the same sinful noises from when you were eating your ice cream.
“god, baby, your moans make me so hard.” rafe says against your lips, giving you only a quick second to take a deep breath before he's back to kissing you.
“do you wanna help out your daddy?” rafe asks, moving his lips to your jaw as he kisses there.
“yes.” you answer honestly. rafe has shown you nothing but affection, something you were so severely lacking that you would do anything for him to make up for it.
“want you to suck my cock.” rafe says, making you pull away from the kiss.
“i can't do that!” you say. not to mention that you have no clue how, but you certainly can't do that with your moms husband.
“but you can, baby. it's alright. you trust me, right?” rafe hums, in which you give a little nod.
“then you can help me out. you're so beautiful, baby girl. i can make you feel good too.”
“you can?” you question, tilting your head to the side.
“i can. we can go upstairs to your bedroom if it makes you feel more comfortable. i told you this beautiful little body needed to be appreciated. remember that, kiddo? so let me appreciate you.”
“what about mom?” you question. there's no way she would be okay with this.
“we don't have to tell her. we can just say we had a lot of daddy daughter time and keep it between us. our little secret.”
you're not sure what to say. as much as you want to see what this appreciation rafe is talking about feels like, you're nervous about hurting your mom or taking things too far, after all, rafe is your step dad.
“let me just give you another kiss while you think about it.” rafe says, placing one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist. “just a nice daddy daughter kiss, nothing naughty about it, little one.”
rafe presses his lips against yours, and all thought you have go out the window as you kiss him back, becoming more confident in your movements the longer you go. rafe tugs you closer to the edge of the counter, and you are quick to wrap your arms around his shoulders, trying to copy whatever you've learned from watching movies as well as doing what feels best.
rafe slips his tongue into your mouth again, and you cry out around it when he presses his hips forward, nestling something hard and rigid against your core.
“upstairs, please.” you whisper. 
rafe nods, wrapping his arms around your hips and lifting you easily. you don't know how he navigates the house so well while you're still kissing, too engrossed in his lips to even let him see properly to walk faster. 
he takes you to your room, your safe space that only he has been in. he sets you down on the bed, and you whine when your lips disconnect.
“shh, baby, im gonna make you feel real good soon. wanna suck daddies cock first?” rafe presses his thumb against your bottom lip, now pink and swollen from the intense make out.
“ive never done it before, i-i don't know how.” you admit, dropping your eyes to rafes crotch, the way his length is straining against his pants.
“ill teach you, baby.” rafe takes his shirt off, and you can't resist reaching out and running your hands over his smooth abs.
“you want to take your shirt off too, honey? let me see your cute little tits.”
you nod, letting rafe help you out of your shirt.
“no bra?” rafe questions, eyes widening when he realized he spent all day with you, not knowing you were bare under your shirt until now.
“its not like i need one.” you blush, going to reach to cover your chest, but rafe stops you.
“don't feel insecure, baby girl. your body is gorgeous. can i touch your chest?” rafe asks. you nod, your nipples jutting out from your skin now that they're exposed to the cold air.
rafe cups your tits, pushing what little is there up. he swipes his thumb over your nipple, making you throw your head back in pleasure. rafe smiles down at you, rubbing over your tits, feeling them with his palms, the way your nipples are hard against them.
“feels so good.” you whine, not even realizing that you had squeezed your eyes hard shut.
“i know, baby.” rafe chuckles, kneeling into the floor between your legs. “let me show you how good my mouth feels too.” rafe pulls you closer to the edge, wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth.
“oh my god, daddy!” you shout out, tangling your hands in rafes hair and holding him to your chest, never wanting the feeling to stop.
“mhm.” rafe mumbles against your skin, pressing a kiss to your nipple before gliding his tongue across your chest to the other side. “daddys gonna take real good care of you.”
“i wanna take care of you too.” you say as rafe sucks on your nipple, tugging it between his teeth gently. you hadn't forgotten the original reason you came upstairs, and want to see what you felt pressing against you earlier.
rafe straightens up, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze before placing it over his crotch. you experiment with what makes rafe feel good as you feel him over his jeans, keeping your eyes on his face. you stroke the hard length, focusing on where you're guessing the tip is, and judging from the way rafe is groaning, it feels good.
“wanna see it.” you say, tugging on his waistband. “please.” you add in for good manners.
“oh, my baby girl, you never have to beg me.” rafe says, undoing his pants and pulling them down, stepping out and licking them away. your eyes widen when you realize there's a small wet spot on his underwear where you were focusing on earlier.
“are you ready?” rafe asks, his thumbs nudging under the waistband of his underwear.
“yes.” you nod, taking your eyes off his crotch as he drops the last layer of fabric, blinking up at rafe through fluttering eyelashes. rafe smiles at you, a soft grin reassuring you as he leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.
you let your eyes close, focusing on the kiss as you reach out, exploring with your hands as you grasp his length, gasping into the kiss as you stroke your hand up and down. you don't know much about what you're doing, but you can tell that his cock is long and thick, you're barely able to wrap your small hand around him.
“feels so good, baby girl. making daddy so happy.” rafe says, groaning as you stroke your fingertip over the tip of his cock, collecting some of that wetness that you saw earlier.
rafe pulls away, standing back up straight as you finally look down, feeling a funny feeling in your stomach as you take in his cock, long and hard jutting away from his body, the tip a beautiful pink color that you want to capture with paint some day.
you take your fingertip into your mouth, licking over the wetness, the salty taste spreading over your tongue. 
“you can just touch for longer if you're not ready to suck me yet.” rafe says, running a hand over your hair.
you don't respond, leaning forward and taking his tip into your mouth, furrowing your brows as you try to work out what to do, flicking your tongue over the head of his cock.
“that's good, baby girl.” rafe moans, resisting the urge to thrust forward, letting you explore on your own as you pull off to lick down his length, tracing over the vein running along the underside until you get to the base and press kisses as you move back up.
you take his cock back into your mouth, trying to take as much as him as you can, only managing a few inches before you gag and pull off a little. you suck the best you can with him taking up so much space, being aware of where your teeth are and not letting them touch the sensitive skin. you'd never want to hurt rafe.
“feels so good, little one.” rafe groans, pressing his hand to the back of your head, pushing you back down onto his cock, further and further until you sputter and have to pull off with a cough.
“are you okay?” rafe questions, but you just give a quick nod before retaking him in your mouth, closing your eyes and focusing on moving up and down, even though you can't take him all the way, you focus on keeping a rhythm, repeating whatever motion makes rafe moan the loudest.
“you can use your hand too.” rafe says, taking your hand in his and wrapping it around the base of his length. you hum in acknowledgement, pulling off to lick at rafes tip to get more of the salty taste as your hand strokes up and down his cock. you kiss his very tip, almost as a thank you for your step daddy for letting you make him feel good.
“im so proud of you, my little baby.” rafe says, and you glow under his praise, sucking his cock back between your lips as you bob your head, running your tongue over him as well.
“fuck!” rafe suddenly pulls away, making you pout. 
“come back daddy.” you try to reach out for them, but rafe reaches down and squeezes his cock tightly by the base, chest heaving.
“you almost made daddy feel too good.” he says, giving his cock a quick stroke like he's unable to resist it.
“were you… going to cum?” you question, quirking your head to the side.
“and what would you know about cumming?” rafe questions, making you blush.
“ive watched movies!” you argue.
“want me to help you learn more? i can make you cum.”
“h-how?” you question. sure, you've seen movies but you haven't exactly studied the details.
“i can use my mouth and fingers to make you feel good, just like you did for me, baby girl.” rafe explains, and you don't hesitate to nod.
“gonna have to take your pants off then, baby.” rafe explains, helping you stand up on slightly shaky legs as you pull your pants down, taking your underwear with it, not wanting to waste time before rafe helps you feel good.
“why don't you lay down?” he asks, running a finger over your cheek. you nod, laying down on your bed, head against your pillows, keeping your legs pressed firmly together, worried about how wet you are in your private area.
rafe climbs onto the bed, hovering his body over yours, admiring his tiny and innocent you look beneath him, despite being completely nude. he presses down, his cock rubbing against your stomach as he captures your mouth, tongue flicking into yours. you relax into the bed, feeling safe again getting kisses from your daddy.
“spread those legs for me.” he emplores you. “let me see your pretty little pussy.”
you part your thighs, rafe moving down your body, pressing kisses to your chest and stomach as he gets closer and closer to where you are craving.
he finally settles in between your legs, hands gripping your thighs. he stares at your glistening pussy, shiny with your wetness.
rafe slowly rubs his finger over your slit before parting your lips, his breath catching when he sees all of you. he leans in tongue falling out as he licks a wide stripe over your cunt.
“oh my god, rafe!” you cry out, back arching, having never experienced such a feeling before.
“you taste delicious, kiddo.” rafe says, burying his face in your cunt as he continues lapping over your cunt, overwhelming you with pleasure.
you whine as he switches to kissing, also giving your inner thighs some attention. he places his hand at the top of your cunt, pulling up to stretch out your skin as he leans in and gives your skin a kiss in a new spot, one that makes you scream, body shaking as you attempt to move away, the pleasure too much for you to take.
“shh, it's okay.” rafe says, moving back to kissing your thighs.
“what was that?” you question, breathing heavily, causing your chest to heave.
“that was your clit, baby. kissing that is like how i felt when you were kissing the tip.” he explains, not judging you for your inexperience. “can i keep going?”
“yes, daddy, please.” 
rafe listens, but makes sure to move slowly, getting you used to his mouth in the area as he licks around your clit without directly touching it. you moan out a mix of his name and daddy, blabbing about how good it is when his tongue flicks over your clit, sending another flood of wetness over your cunt.
“good girl.” rafe says quickly, hoping that's all the praise you need to be comfortable, not wanting to take his mouth off of your pussy as he concentrates on your clit, going from holding his tongue flat against it to flicking quickly, showing you all the different types of things he can do to pleasure you.
“st-stop.” you say, trying to shove rafes head away when you feel something building in you, not wanting to topple over the edge. “it's too much!” you shout, but rafe does something new, taking your clit between his lips and sucking it in his mouth.
“im gonna- im gonna-” you sob out some sort of warning, unsure of what is actually going to happen as your sobs shift into a scream, your hips picking up off the bed as you try to squeeze them shut, but rafes hand pushes your thighs to keep them open.
you fall over whatever edge you were on, vision going black as shaking overtakes your body, and controversially to what your were trying to do earlier, you now press your cunt into rafes face as he keeps sucking, working you through your high as he pets your thighs, hoping the bit of soft loving attention helps you through it.
“oh my god, daddy.” you whine, tears streaming down your face as he pulls off, pressing a kiss to your cunt before moving up your body, pulling you against him as he flips, allowing you to rest against his chest.
“it's okay, baby, breathe.” he soothes you, his hand rubbing over your back.
“that was really good.” you tell rafe after a minute of struggling to get your breath back. “thank you daddy.” you lean in and give him a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.
“want to keep going? or we can be done for tonight if that's what you need, little baby.” rafe says, wanting to take things at your pace, especially after seeing how explosive your orgasm was.
“more.” you say, slotting your leg over rafes body, pressing your chest into his, rubbing your nipples against his skin as you connect your lips, this time taking control of the kiss.
you rub your cunt against rafes abs, soaking them in your slick.
“baby-” rafe warns as you move down, rubbing your cunt over his cock.
“fuck me, daddy.” you say, wanting to feel good together.
“let me-” rafe tries to get out, but you push his cock against your hole, trying to slide down when your get a flare of pain, shouting and pulling off.
“baby girl, you have to let me finger you first. as much as i want you right now, ive got to open you up since it's your first time.” rafe explains, and you whimper out, nodding.
“come sit on my tummy, come on.” rafe tugs your hips, and you move so you're sat on his abs, leaning back slightly so your cunt is on show.
“let me know if it hurts, okay?” rafe says, his hands rubbing over your inner thighs, admiring how tiny you are even when sat on top of him.
“i will daddy.” you hum as he strokes his pointer finger over your cunt, making sure to get it thoroughly wet. he moves down to your entrance, circling it before pressing the tip of his finger against it, breaking through the tight ring of muscle. 
“oh, fuck.” you cry out, reaching behind you to grip rafes hips for stability.
rafe can move easily with one finger because of how wet you are, pushing all the way in with relative ease, but he can feel how you're still squeezing around him.
“gonna add a second, okay.” rafe gives you a warning, not wanting to take too long before he can get inside of you, needing to be buried in your cunt.
rafe pushes a second finger in, making you whine at the sudden stretch. he moves in and out with pace, not letting you focus on the pain as pleasure quickly overtakes you.
“there you go, stay nice and relaxed for me little one.” rafe says, and you make an effort to breathe and keep your legs from going taut as he scissors his fingers, thumb coming to rub over your clit when he sees your face twist in pain.
“i know it hurts, baby, but trust your daddy. gonna make it feel all better.” he says softly, wanting to pull you down into another kiss but knowing you need to focus on staying calm at the moment.
“it's okay, i do trust you daddy.” you say, voice breathy.
“love you so much.” rafe says, flicking over your clit as you cry out, never having heard rafe say the words to you before, but of course he does, he's your step dad after all. 
“please, inside me, p-please.” you moan out.
“okay, fuck-” rafe curses out. “okay.” he takes his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth to clean off before flipping so you're on your back on the bed, his body hovering over yours, hips slotted between yours like he was meant to be there. 
“im gonna try and go slow.” rafe says, the key word there being try. he knows how hard it's been to resist you this long, it's going to be even harder to control himself once he's inside you.
rafe grabs his cock, rubbing the tip over your messy cunt before lining up with your entrance, sinking forward as he pushes inside of your heat. you cry out, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders, needing the connection to get through this as his hips press all the way in, his cock lodged deep inside of you.
“breathe through it, baby girl.” rafe says, stroking your hips with his large hands as you take a stuttering breath, adjusting to his length inside you.
you circle your hips, brows furrowed as you get used to the sensation. you press up, then down, moving yourself while he stays still, allowing you to explore.
“i-i gotta move baby.” rafe finally says, and you nod, still keeping him squeezed close to you as his hips move back, his cock sliding almost completely out of you before pushing back in, keeping his self control by moving slowly.
“this is what a good step daddy does?” you ask, rubbing your hand over the back of his head.
“yes, i take care of you, baby.” rafe says, burying his head in your neck, kissing the sensitive skin there.
“i love you daddy.” you tell rafe, clenching your cunt around him when he starts to move faster, rafe letting a grunt out against your skin.
“so good for me, little one. our little secret.” rafe picks up speed, his cock stretching you open, making space for himself.
“can we-” you gasp out when he pushes all the way in, his hips rubbing against your clit. “can we keep doing this? even when mom gets back?” now that you've felt this level of pleasure, you don't want to go back to going without it.
“of course, baby. we just have to be careful.” he says, sucking a light hickey into your neck, one that should heal before your mom gets back.
“is it bad?” you ask, even as you spread your thighs apart more, “is it bad that we are doing this? won't mom be mad if she finds out?”
“baby, don't worry about that.” he sighs, picking his head up to look you in the eye. “just focus on how good you feel. i love you, i don't love your mom like this.”
“you don't?” you question, eyebrows raising up.
“the love a daddy feels for his little girl is different.” rafe says, pressing his cock as deep as he can inside of you, and you swear he's all the way into your stomach.
“you don't fuck her like this?” 
“no, only you. my little girl.” rafe kisses you, and you moan into the kiss, moving your legs to wrap around his hips, raising and lowering yourself to meet his thrusts.
“my little baby. my sweet girl.” rafe moans, his cock swelling inside of you. “gonna cum inside you, baby. we are gonna feel so good together.”
he moves one of the hands that's gripping your hip to your cunt, rubbing his fingers right over your clit harshly, needing you to cum at the same time as him.
“daddy-” you gasp, throwing your head back, “daddy, you can't, i'll get pregnant.”
“it's okay, little one.” rafe pants, struggling to hold himself back any longer. “cum for me. don't think about getting pregnant. you'd look so cute for me with your tummy all swelled up. gonna fill you with my cum, put a baby in you.”
“yes, yes!” you cry out, rafes fingers pushing you to the edge as his orgasm finally hits, cumming with a shake as he pumps you full, filling your cunt with all of the cum he has to offer. he keeps pumping despite feeling oversensitive, wanting to make sure he stuffs you.
“fuck, daddy!” you whine, pushing his hand away from your clit when it becomes too much.
“my good girl, shh.” rafe presses your lips together, carefully pulling his cock out of you, looking down as his cum slides out of your hole. he reaches down with one hand, ignoring your whine as he pushes his fingers, and the cum, back into your pussy. rafe smirks to himself as you moan, grasping at him with your little hands, thinking to himself that getting her innocent young daughter pregnant is the perfect way for your mom to ask for a divorce.
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