#I will become her stepdad and no one can stop me

[vanweezer]

very very personal, just insight into where im at w my family and things that bother me/have encouraged me to move out

"i know youre moving out so im just gonna say no ones kicking you out and if you feel like this is something you have to do then ok"

thanks! i know im not being kicked out! but yknow i kinda yet a weird vibe when your out of touch husband takes me to a cemetery to yell at me, tell me im just like my father/dont give my father "the time of day", and that im "mean to people who care about me" in front of his dead mother's grave in a poor attempt at guilting me out of speaking my mind. but no yeah thanks for stating the fucking obvious that im leaving on my own terms

[evansbby]

𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: stepdad!Ari Levinson x bratty!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: STEPCEST, daddy kink, dark!Ari, non-con, dub-con, age gap (reader is in college, Ari is in his forties), extremely fucked up Ari, delusional!Ari, spanking, ROUGH spanking, ass eating, ass fingering, he is literally very obsessed with her ass, swearing, misogyny, spitting, manhandling, dirty talk, condescending dirty talk, Ari also babies her A LOT, 18+, minors dni.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You stay out past curfew and your stepdad punishes you.

𝐀/𝐍: Final warning that this is extremely fucked up. Dead dove don't eat and all that. You've been warned. Enjoy.

“Where were you last night?”

Ari’s voice is loud, carrying across his study out into the hallway where you stop with a start. His door is slightly ajar, and you can see him through the crack. Sat behind his desk, his usual half-empty glass of scotch in hand.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, “Out?”

“Out where?”

“I don’t need to tell you that.”

You didn’t. It’s not like Ari was your dad, although he very much tried to act like he was. He was your stepfather; your mother had married him last year. And in that time, Ari had made it clear that he was always going to be in charge. And you wouldn’t have cared if he bossed your mother around, but it was you who his attention fell on most of the time.

You were in college, and it was close enough that you were able to stay at home and commute. Well, stay at Ari’s home, since that’s where your mother had moved the two of you. And you should have realised back then – a man as powerful as Ari Levinson would only ever play by his own rules, and make sure you did too.

“You have an eleven ‘o’ clock curfew. I didn’t see you tucked in at eleven ‘o’ clock. In fact, you weren’t home well past midnight.” He takes a sip of his scotch, looking ever the ruggedly handsome man that every single woman you knew went crazy over. Seriously. Your mom, her friends, your friends. It’s like you were the only one who saw through his act. There was just something about him…

This time you do roll your eyes, “Well firstly, I don’t need to be tucked in like I’m some little schoolgirl. And second, I’m allowed to stay out as long as I like. Mom never had a problem with that, she trusts me.”

Ari’s deep blue eyes regard your carefully, and he sets his glass down before using his finger to beckon you closer. “Come here.”

“What? No, I have to go.”

“You don’t have to go anywhere without my permission, sweetheart. Now I won’t repeat myself.”

There was an edge to his tone, one you knew all too well. Ari Levinson was a dangerous man, but then again weren’t all businessmen dangerous? It’s not like he’d played nice all his life to become the millionaire he was now. But he never shared his work with you or your mom. No, Ari was very rigid in his rules. Work was for the men, and women were to look after the home and mind their business.

He had other rules too. A curfew for you, no swearing, no wearing revealing clothes – and that was just scraping the surface. You’d complained to your mother countless times: “He’s not my father, he can’t make me do any of this!” But your mother was blindly in love with Ari, and wouldn’t listen to a single negative thing about him. “We live under his roof, sweetheart. He pays for everything and we should be so grateful. The least you could do is follow his rules, he only wants what’s best for you!” It was a shame he didn’t love your mother back. You couldn’t imagine a powerful man like Ari Levinson loving anything.

You swallow and step into his office, clutching your coat tighter around your body. It was best not to waste time arguing with him, and the sooner he said whatever he had to say, the sooner you could leave. You had another party to go to tonight, and no one – not even Ari Levinson – was going to stop you.

“Close the door behind you.” Ari orders, leaning back on his leather chair and undoing the top button of his shirt.

“Why?”

“Close it.”

You do. There’s something about the way Ari speaks, the way his tone is so commanding without him even trying to make it seem that way. It compels you to listen, and so you stand there in his office, in front of his desk while he just looks at you. His eyes leisurely trailing up and down your body, so dark as he sips his scotch again.

“Look, Ari, I’m going out whether you like it or not, and–”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

You almost sneer, “I’m not going to call you Dad.”

“Of course not. You’re too spoilt to address your elders with a bit of respect.” He leans forward, his eyes never leaving yours as he sets his scotch down and runs his hand through his unruly brown hair. It’s all glossy and rich, curling at the ends like he’s some kind of romantic movie hero. It was crazy how good looking he was, how charming he looked for someone who was so strict and stuck in his ways.

“You’re literally not my father.” You say, shifting from one heeled foot to the other. You’d had this argument with him almost daily for the past year.

“Oh yeah? Who else lets you live under their roof? Buys you whatever you want and gives you a monthly allowance on top of that?”

You sniff, “Never asked for any of that.”

A smile touches his rosy lips, but it’s a wolfish one. A predatory one. “And yet you have no problem spending my money, do you? On stupid, mindless things like that sorry excuse for a dress you’ve got on under that coat.”

You bite your lip, holding your coat tighter around your body. It was long, but the dress underneath was short. Sinfully short, skintight, red lace. What else were you supposed to wear to the club? Not that Ari had to know that that’s where you were going tonight – one of his rules was no clubs. But how did he know about your dress?

Ari chuckles, “I know all about your slutty little get up, sweetheart. Isn’t that why you had your bedroom door open earlier while you were changing into it?”

Your jaw drops, “You pervert, you–”

“Enough.” He raises his hand to silence you, and you hate that it works. Your heart’s drumming in your chest and you despise how much of an effect your stepfather has on you. How much he intimidates you, how much he scares you despite how hard you try to prove otherwise. “Come here.”

You swallow harshly, “I am here.”

“No. Come over here. Closer to daddy.”

You blanche. That was the thing about Ari. He didn’t even want you to call him Dad. No, he wanted you to call him daddy – like you were some stupid, helpless little girl.

Sometimes, he’d brush past you around the house, make sure to squeeze your hip or rest his hand on your back despite the fact that the hallways were big enough for about ten people. How he’d grab something for you from the top shelf, making sure to touch you in some way as he did it. And he’d whisper – sometimes even with your mother in the same room – “Daddy’s got it, sweetheart,” or, “let daddy help you, honey,” or “how’s daddy’s best girl today?”

And it horrified you that disgust wasn’t the only thing you felt when he said those things.

“I’m fine right where I am.” You hold your ground, trying not to shake or teeter in your sky-high heels. Your bare legs suddenly feel cold, your palms clammy.

Ari blinks, “come here or I’ll get up and drag you here myself. And we both know you don’t want that.”

You mull it over. Ari was a huge man. And huge was an understatement. You didn’t think men could be so big and imposing until you’d met him. He towered over everyone you knew, and he completely dwarfed you. Hell, even in your heels you’d be half the size of him. And he was also absolutely ripped. Shredded like he went to the gym regularly, and you knew he did because he had a gym at home, and he’d often walk around shirtless after a workout. All sweaty and tanned and glistening, and–

“I’m waiting.” His voice is clear and powerful, carrying across the study, ringing in your ears. You think over your limited options, wondering if you could possibly just make a break for it.

You’d tried running away from him only once before. During the early hours of the morning, when Ari had come to pick you up after a house party gone a bit too wild. You were still drunk, high, happy. And then he’d pulled up in his expensive car, a grim look on his face. You’d giggled and ran, but it only took him a few strides to catch up with you. He’d hoisted you over his shoulder like you were a sack of potatoes, like you weighed no more than a feather. And he’d thrown you in the back of his car and forbade you from ever going out again. Told you that if you did, he’d track you down and ground you for life. That there was no point in running, no point in hiding because he’d always track you down. Because he was your daddy and you were his little girl and he owned you.

That was when you’d realised just how insane Ari Levinson was. Insane with money and power and capable of anything with the world at his feet.

Heart beating madly in your ribcage, you take a deep breath and slowly walk over to him. Around his desk and right up in front of him. He turns his chair slightly, looking up at you from under those impossibly long lashes of his, his eyes flashing darkly as he takes you in. He grabs your hip and yanks you closer, and you stumble, almost falling on top of him before his strong arm steadies you, and you end up standing between his legs.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and you feel a strange sensation at the compliment. Almost like a spark within you that you try your best to ignore. His hand is still on your hip, rubbing up and down through the mink of your coat. “Where’s your mommy tonight?”

“Asleep.”

“So you were going to sneak out.”

“It’s hardly sneaking out when you’re an adult in college who doesn’t need permission to go out and see her friends.” You can’t help but quip, although your attention is on his hand as it continues to rub your hip. Why was he doing that?

He acts like he hasn’t heard you, his eyes continuing to drink you in as he strokes your hip, “It’s not good to give your mommy and daddy so much grief, sweetheart. You should stay at home like a good little girl.”

Grief?! As if. You don’t think a man like Ari could ever feel anything as raw and humane as grief. Especially over something as normal as you, a college-aged woman, living her life.

You shrug, trying to act as casual as possible, “I like going out.”

“Mm,” in a flash, he yanks your coat off your body, the slinky fur sliding down till it falls by your feet. The action is so sudden, and yet Ari remains nonchalant, “You like dressing up like a slut too.”

“This is what all the girls are wearing.”

“But you’re my girl.” He toys with the lacy hem of your dress, a frown touching his handsome face at how short it is. Hell, the dress hardly covers your butt, and you’d class it more as lingerie than a going out dress, but that was none of his business. “I can’t have you going out like this, baby. Nobody’s allowed to see you like this.”

“What if they already have?”

The slap comes out of nowhere, sharp, unforgiving and loud, and your ass blooms with pain. You cry out, unable to believe he’s just spanked you.

“If you were stupid enough to give yourself to one of those idiot college boys you hang out with, trust me, I would know.” Ari says quietly. And it’s not a sneer, nor is there any contempt in his tone. Just cold, hard, nonchalance – which chills you down to the bone.

“Y-You’re crazy,” oh, but you hate the way your voice shakes as you say it!

“I’m just looking out for you, baby girl. That’s what daddies are for. Hell, even your mommy wants me to be your daddy.”

“That’s because she doesn’t know–”

“She wants me to be responsible for you, to discipline you, to take care of you how I see fit. How could you go against what your mommy wants?” His hand meanders lower, stroking your hip bone before gliding over your bare thigh, and then up again but this time under your dress. He cups your ass, and you can’t believe he’s got the balls to do it so casually. And it’s bare, because your lacy little G-string wasn’t covering anything, and you both knew that.

“Ari, you need to stop,” you swallow thickly, “y-you’re going too far this time, you–”

He yanks you into his lap, his motions so precise that you end up perched on his knee before you even know what’s happening. Your dress rides up, exposing your upper thighs and that’s exactly where his eyes zero in. Those intense, navy blue eyes that flash as his tongue swipes over his lips. And that’s when you feel it. Hard. Underneath you.

“This is where you belong,” he says softly. But not in a sweet way. Each word drips with menace. Quiet menace and a hanging threat. “On your daddy’s lap like a good little girl. God, baby girl, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hold you in my lap like this.” He bounces you up and down, watching as your breasts bounce in your tight red dress. “Every day I see you skipping around wearing next to nothing, and that fucking body…” He pauses, inhaling deeply as his arm secures around you even tighter, “…that peachy little ass on full display when you’d go out in your slutty little outfits no matter how much I forbade you from wearing them.”

“M-Mom’s upstairs,” you warn him, pressing your hands against his chest in a bid to get away from him except he’s too strong as he holds you rigidly in place. You can hardly believe what’s coming out of his mouth right now, but you don’t want to stick around to find out more, despite the fact that your thighs seem to be pressing together off their own accord. “Mom’s upstairs and she could come down any second, and–”

“She wants us to be together,” Ari smiles, and again it’s that wicked, menacing smile of his that’s more of a smirk than a smile. “She wants me to be your daddy, to take care of you. She knows how out of hand you’re getting; she knows you need a man like me to put you back in your place.”

“What?!”

“Mm, baby girl. And I let you act like a whore long enough. I was lenient, you see. I was enamoured by you, and so I let you do what you wanted. But now it’s time to put my foot down before you get too out of hand.”

“You’re insane!” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Firstly, lenient?! In what universe was Ari ever lenient with you? He’d always been strict and up your ass about his dumb rules and traditional values. No going out, no drinking, no smoking, no hanging out with boys, no wearing revealing clothes. If that was him being lenient, then you didn’t want to know what he was capable of now.

“There you go again, talking back to me. It’s clear your mommy didn’t teach you any manners.” Ari fingers the lacy strap of your dress, pushing it down your shoulder and inhaling the perfumed bare skin he’s exposed. You’d lathered yourself in fragranced lotion, one that left glitter all over your body, and it reflects in his eyes as they continue raking over you, looking everywhere as if it’s his right to.

And he’d never gone this far before! Sure, he’d brush against you and hold you and whisper things to you, but he’d always teetered along that line, never crossed it. Now he seemed close to it, hell-bent on doing it. There’s a fire in his eyes that you don’t recognise, a lust that burns so bright it makes you look away lest you catch it and start feeling it too.

“And you know exactly what you’re doing to your daddy,” he continues, brushing your hair off your shoulder to expose the nape of your neck, and his huge hand grabs your throat lightly, almost casually. “You left your door open tonight so I could watch you slip on this slutty lingerie you call a dress. And that fucking peachy baby ass of yours, in those tiny, slutty panties…” Again, he inhales sharply, and you feel him shift subtly underneath you, his boner digging into you from below.

You try to ignore the lump in your throat and the beginnings of a fire in the depths of your stomach. “Nobody asked you to look, Ari. You’re a fucking creep and I’m gonna tell Mom you were spying on me.”

He smiles again, like your threat means nothing to him. And why would it? You’re half his age and at his mercy, the clothes on your body bought with his money, as is the makeup on your face. The furniture in your room, all your college textbooks… Hell, he paid your college fees. You were bound to him. He knew he owned you.

“You just earned yourself five extra smacks, baby girl.”

“Five extra what?”

“And you wanted me to look, sweetheart. You always want me to look,” Ari licks his lips, that predatory glint in his eye increasing tenfold. And he casually tweaks your nipple which is poking stiffly out from under the thin lace of your dress. You convulse, and he grins wolfishly, “That’s why you act like an attention-seeking whore, wear slutty clothes and prance around like you own the place. You’re crying out to be put back in your place, you need it.”

“All I need is for you to back off.” You stick your chin up, trying to be brave. But the older man only looks amused, and he strokes your hard nipple with just his thumb, the action sending sparks down to your core that you try your best to ignore.

“God, you’re fucking adorable,” he almost groans it, and his other hand tightens on your hip, grinding you down on his erection while you sit there frozen, “I can’t wait to fuck you in mine and mommy’s bed…”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” His salacious words act like a bucket of icy cold water, shocking you out of your trance. God, he was truly insane! You try to jump off of him, but his grip tightens around your stomach, pinning you down on him as you struggle.

“She won’t mind,” he whispers, licking the shell of your ear and sending electric currents down your body, “she wants us to bond, sweetheart. And I can’t think of a better daddy and baby girl bonding activity–”

“YOU’RE SICK!”

It’s when you really start struggling, when you bat and punch at his chest that he finally frowns. Not that it hurts him, but he doesn’t like the disrespect. That’s when he pushes down on your back, easily manoeuvring your body till he’s got you slung over his knee, your lacy dress riding up and your ass poking up into his face.

“You’re such a brat,” Ari’s lets his hand rest squarely on your ass, stroking it from on top of the red lace. You feel hot all over, heart beating out of your chest as you try to wrap your head around what exactly is happening right now. “But that’s okay, isn’t it sweetheart? One night with your daddy will set you straight. Then you’ll be the good little girl your mommy and I want you to be.”

“Let me go! Don’t you dare touch me, don’t you– OW!”

Ari’s huge hand cracks down on your ass like lightning, and your cry of pain echoes around his study, bouncing off the walls and ricocheting back into your ringing ears. Pain blooms across your backside, tears welling in your eyes – he’d hit you so hard.

“I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that you were craving a good spanking,” Ari runs his hand over your ass, stroking the sizzling skin that’s still covered by the flimsy lace of your dress, “that you needed it, and you wanted me to give it to you.” Easily, he pushes the lace up, bunching your dress around your waist. He fingers your G-string, snapping it against your skin and making you cry out again, “You’re such a little slut…”

He rips your panties off, and you hear him inhale sharply, and you know he’s smelling them. And then his hand cracks down on your ass again, and again you cry out in pain because it’s your bare ass and it hurts, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“I watched you stumble into the house last night, well past your curfew,” he speaks so casually, despite his hand raining unforgiving spanks on your ass, “looking like a slutty, drunk little mess, your dress up and that cute bubble butt of yours poking out like you were trying to tease me. God, I wanted to take you over my knee then and there. But I knew you had to be sober for this. It’s the only way you’d learn.”

“Please, stop, it hurts, it–”

“And to think you were going to go out again, break my rules again,” he sneers, giving you a particularly hard smack that has you reeling, the tears streaking down your cheeks. “Stupid little girl, don’t you get it? I give you everything, every material fucking thing in the world you could ask for. And all I ask in return is for you to be a good little girl, a respectful little girl who stays at home and listens to her daddy. Is that so fucking hard?”

All you do is sob, and he yanks your hair, “I said, is that so fucking hard?”

“No!” You cry, wiggling around on his lap in a bid to get away from the unforgiving wrath of his palm, your mind quickly slipping into delirium, to that place where you’ll say anything just to get him to stop. “No, it’s not hard, okay?! PLEASE STOP!”

“No more going out,” smack after smack rains down on your ass, and the skin feels like it’s breaking, like it’s on fire, and he just grows harder, more excited underneath you. “No, baby girl. From now on, you’ll be good, won’t you? You’ll stay at home with me, let me take care of you.”

“Okay, fine! Just stop, just–”

“And daddy’s gonna take such good care of you,” he croons softly, and yet he sounds so fucking evil, “Daddy’s gonna feed you, change you, bathe you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? So much more than your goddamned parties.”

A strangled sound leaves your throat, white hot pain radiating off your poor ass as he manhandles you, spanking you like you’re some goddamned child being chastised. And you were a grown woman! A grown woman with a sick in the head stepfather who was hellbent on inflicting his torturous, fucked up discipline.

“Say it. Say you want daddy to bathe you. Say you’d like that, because you’re too much of a dumb baby to do it yourself,” he orders, sick pleasure in his tone at his own words. And he gives you the hardest slap yet, like a threat of what’s to come if you didn’t answer how he wanted you to.

“Fine, okay?!” Your voice is shrill with fear, “I-I want you to…” your face screws up, hotness prickling your cheeks, “I want you to bathe me, take care of me...”

SMACK.

“Address me properly.”

“I WANT YOU TO BATHE ME, DADDY!” Shame erupts inside you, but so does relief when the spank you’re expecting never comes, and his hand rests on the curve of your ass instead.

“Of course you do, my helpless little girl.” He croons, switching from menacing to faux-sweet with the drop of a hat. “I always knew you needed me. You made it so obvious.”

“C-Can you please just stop now?” You hang your head, the energy depleting from your body, and all you can focus on is the pain in your ass. That, and the way his boner is poking dangerously close to your core. And you feel this strange urge to hump downwards, but you push it away as soon as it flits your mind.

“You have such a pretty ass, baby,” he ignores you, stroking your ass with that large, warm hand of his. “Sure, daddy just did a number on it, but that’s okay. A cute bubble butt like yours was made to be ruined, wasn’t it? Say it. Say it exactly how I just said it.”

You sniffle, ass on fire and thoughts disorientated enough that you obey without a single protest, “My… My cute bubble butt was made to be ruined.”

You expect him to let you go then, to laugh at you for being reduced to a sniffling mess. To taunt you because you and him both know your mother wouldn’t believe you if you told her what had just happened. He was perfect in her eyes, a knight in shining armour and that was all she ever wanted to see him as. Not the devil incarnate who’d spanked your ass raw for coming home later than the curfew he’d set for you.

Instead, you hear him inhale deeply, squeezing and fondling your ass cheeks, groping them to his heart’s desire, jiggling each cheek like it’s a toy made for his pleasure. And you almost lose yourself to the sensation, because why do you feel that need again? That need to grind down on his knee?

But then his hand moves lower, and his hand cups your cunt before you even realise that he’s crossed that line completely. That line a stepfather should never cross.

“Ari, n-no, don’t…” but why does your voice not even convince your own self?

“I’ll do what I please,” he says calmly, as if he’s conversing with you normally over a pot of coffee in the morning, as if he doesn’t have his big, warm hand cupping your bare pussy. “I own you, it’s only right that I show you what pleasure is. I’m sure you’ve never felt it before, not with those boys you hang around. And you took your punishment well, sweetheart. Daddy’s so proud of you, and I’m not all bad, you know.”

Before you can say another word, his strong arms lift you up and manhandle you till you’re bent over his oak desk, your ass poking up and at his mercy yet again as he stands up to his full height behind you. You yelp when he gives your ass another hard slap, as if he can’t help it.

“You’ve made a mess all over my pants, baby girl,” he pulls your hair, making you look back. And that’s when you see the dark wet spot on his pants. Oh no, no, no. That couldn’t have been you, could it?

And yet, yet you can feel that tell-tale wetness now trailing down your thighs. Were you… leaking? Is that how turned on you were right now? Despite the disgust you feel? And the contempt and hatred too?

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Ari puts on that faux-sweet voice again, and yet he still sounds menacing, predatory as he grips your ass cheeks so hard they hurt. “I know baby girls like you can’t help but have an accident every now and then. It’s a good thing daddy’s here to clean you up.”

Before you can even attempt to decipher what’s happening next, he grabs your hips and hoists your ass up even higher. Then he spreads your ass cheeks apart and your eyes almost bug out of your head when you feel his tongue, stiff and wet, like a stripe up your asshole.

“Oh, oh fuck!” You can’t help but moan. No one had ever, ever even touched you up there. Let alone lick you there, and oh god! Oh god, it felt so insane. Your cunt throbs at the feel of his wet tongue up there. Your stepfather was eating your ass.

“Taste so fucking sweet,” he murmurs, fingers pressing into the soft skin of your butt cheeks as he spreads them even further apart. He spits down on your puckered hole, making you tense up in anticipation. “I’ve been dreaming of eating your sexy little ass since the moment I saw you.”

“This is wrong…” and yet your words sound so faint, so far away. What feels close is his tongue, big and flat as he laps at your hole like a starved man. And you don’t know what possesses you but you know you have to start rocking your hips back into his face, and that’s when you feel him smirk against you.

“I knew you’d come around, baby girl. I knew you’d get off on me eating you back here. I bet none of your little boyfriends ever did this for you, huh?”

“N-No, oh-oh gosh, I-I–”

 He cups your cunt again, this time gathering your wetness and bringing it up to your asshole. And fuck, his finger makes you twitch as he rubs your wetness into your puckered hole before lapping it up with his tongue. And the whole time, obscene noises fill up his study, and your mother sleeps soundly upstairs while her husband violates your asshole and both of you are moaning now.

“Fucking sexy baby ass,” Ari mutters, practically tongue-fucking your hole like he hasn’t had a meal in days. And his stiff, wet tongue forces its way into your tight hole and you wail because it feels like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Now you’re grinding back into his face in earnest, and your poor, neglected cunt is dripping juices down on his desk, and–

Ari slaps your ass hard, the sound ringing across the room, and his beard scrapes against your hole, and it feels so sinfully good that you want to cry. How did it get to this? You hate him. You despise him. And yet…

It’s when he forces his thick pointer finger into your poor asshole that you scream in earnest, and all it earns you is another slap to your butt. And this itself makes your pussy clench, like your body is growing accustomed to his rough ways. Like your body is accepting his rough ways, liking his rough ways.

“D-Daddy,” you whimper voluntarily, because your body is betraying you and now so is your voice, “daddy please. Need to, n-need to…”

“Say it.” Ari’s voice drips with power and authority, “Say what you need.”

“Need to – nngh! – need to cum!”

He smirks, “No one’s stopping you, baby girl. No one’s stopping you from getting off on your stepdaddy eating your tight, sexy ass.”

He pushes you down on his desk, till your stomach is flat against the hard oak. With your ass pinned down against the hard surface, he spreads your cheeks again – as far as they’d go. With renewed vigour, he starts licking up your ass again. And you twitch against his harsh tongue, which probes and licks you like you’re nothing more than his meal. And you gasp and whine and moan like a whore, thrusting back against him, needing to cum, just needing to cum and nothing else.

You squirt hard when he bites down on your ass cheek, bites down on it like a man possessed, like a man hell-bent on marking you as his property. And you’re sure he’s left a mark, you’re sure he’s drawn blood, and he fingers your tight asshole the whole time, milking your orgasm as your untouched cunt convulses and waves of shocking pleasure radiate through your body.

“That’s right, baby girl,” Ari licks at the spot where he’s bit you, sucking at the poor, broken skin to make the bruise even more prominent. “My special little girl, finally giving yourself to daddy. I’m so proud of you, baby. Fuck, so proud of my little girl.”

 You’re half lost in your delirium but you snap out of it when you feel something wet and hot splash on your ass. Spurts of it, coating your sore and bruised ass. His cum. You hadn’t even realised he was jacking off. Your stepdad, jacking off and dropping his load all over your sizzling ass after he’d just spanked you and ate you out back there.

Fuck.

“Next time, I’m finishing inside you,” Ari has the audacity to chuckle, despite the air feeling heavy around you as you come down from your high and collapse on his desk, all energy sapped out of your body.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a pitiful whimper. You feel a bunch of sensations, but you feel another spark of thrill when his finger swipes over your ass. And then he brings it to your lips, his finger coated with his cum that he’s gathered, and presses it into your mouth.

You don’t have the energy to fight him, and so you suck on his finger, like a good little girl you lap up his cum, swallow it while he smiles at you approvingly, and pats your head like you’re his little pet. Ruined and collapsed on his desk, your panties in his pocket and your poor dress hiked high around your waist. Completely at his mercy.

“I’ll run you a bath,” he says, picking you up and gathering you in his arms. You’re limp, too weak to argue. To fucked out to really register what’s just happened. “See, doesn’t it feel good to be taken care of by your daddy? All that partying isn’t good for you. Only daddy knows what’s good for you. But don’t worry. You’ll learn. Soon.”

A/N: THE END! OKAY WHAT DO WE THINK??? AHHHH this Ari is sooo fucked up omfg. But I'm kinda nervous posting this bc I haven't posted a full length fic in a while??? and idk... this just came to me. BUT WHAT DO WE THINK? Please, please do let me know! Feedback/comments/reblogs would mean the world to me! I JUST WANNA KNOW WHAT YALL THINK??? FAV PART??? ANYTHINGSS anyways byeee love u <3

[feenoire]

Heartfelt Veils II. A Doe Loves Its Wolf

stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ minors dni

word count: 6.2k

warnings: age difference (18/50), sexual harassment (cat call), fluff, angst, sexual tension, sexual acts.

summary: spending your 18th birthday with your stepdad ended up being an unforgettable day, one that will forever linger in your mind.

a/n: Joel quoting Romeo’s line in spanish, that’s the note. i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

series masterlist

The drizzle cascades outside, tapping the window of your bedroom. The pumpkin spice candle fills your room with its warm, comforting scent. You’re sitting on a chair, pen in hand, as you pour your thoughts into your diary at the study desk.

“Dear diary, I almost cry at the sweetness of October. Woken early by Joel, who made breakfast for me: avocado toast and raspberry juice. Days seep by like the stain of a raspberry on my pearl blouse. A week has gone by since I arrived in this small town, this new haven—Joel’s home. I could make a list of all the warmest things: my new chamber, forest saunter, delicacies, cold weather, the sleekness of his wood carvings, and Joel.

I’m afraid to admit it, but I think I like Joel, he’s like a sin worth hunting for. Something’s wrong with me because I know I’m not supposed to feel this way. My heart beats steadfastly for him, his brown eyes warm like the morning sun. For the first time, I feel like someone truly pays attention to me and genuinely cares what I have to say. I feel seen. Unlike the ghost I have been for the last seventeen years. He is flowers in my stomach. I always think of him before I fall asleep. Nightmares fade.

But I tried to convince myself that he was just being nice like most stepdads would do, because they can be kind at first but become total assholes later, that it was all just a pretense, they just want your mother, not you. That’s what I heard from my friends. But I truly hope Joel isn’t like that. That this feeling I have right now is just a phase, that he’s just a phase…”

The knock on the door startles you as you’re lost in your thoughts, letting them flow onto the book in front of you. In a panic, you quickly shut your diary and hide it in the drawer. Knowing you’d be dead if someone read it.

“Sweetheart, are you ready yet?” his deep, husky voice speaks.

“Yeah. I’ll be just a few minutes.”

“Alright. I’m gonna wait outside, okay?” says he from behind the door.

“Okay.”

After his footsteps fade, you put on your jacket over your sweater and grab your school bag. Not wanting to make him wait too long, you quickly grab your walkman before running downstairs. There, you find Joel leaning against his black 1978 Ford truck, looking like a man straight out of a magazine.

Your breath hitches and your cheeks warm at the sight of him as you stand on the front porch. He wears a denim shirt under a brown jacket that hugs his frame, showing just how big his arms are. He is divine, like the Seleucid prince. It makes you flutter.

Like the gentleman he is, he opens the car door for you with a smile as you stride toward him. You can’t help but smile and blush at his lovely gesture.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say softly.

“Ain’t no worries, little girl.”

Little Girl. You like the way he calls you that, it sends a warm sensation to your core. You don’t know why. With the husky voice of his, you secretly wish he could whisper it in your ear.

Joel gets inside the truck and starts to drive. Meanwhile, your mother leaves for work early today. Joel told her that she could stop working if she wanted to and let him provide for her, but she said no, as work keeps her busy and she likes doing it.

It feels comfortable and calming to the mind as you look at the scenery through the car’s window. Observing the little town with its shops, parks, and sidewalks covered in fallen leaves. There’s an old man riding a bicycle, with ten dogs following him, stepping with their little legs. The sight brings a smile to your face. In the distance, a big mountain blanketed in fog. The weather is getting colder, as it nears November.

“What are you listening to?” Joel says, breaking the silence.

You don’t turn the volume all the way up on your walkman, so you can still hear Joel talking through the headphones.

“Um, just an old song from my mixtape.”

Joel smiles. “Why don’t you put your little mixtape on the stereo so I can listen to it too?”

Part of you is embarrassed at the thought of Joel listening to your playlist, or maybe you’re scared that he will judge you for it, without realizing how much you care about what or how Joel thinks of you. But a small part of you is delighted that you could listen to your favorite songs with him.

“Yeah, sure.”

You take off your headphones and put the tape in the player. The soft melody of Mazzy Star’s “Blue Light” fills the car.

Joel smiles as he listens. “Yeah, I’ve heard this one.”

“You have?”

“I have, it’s glorious.”

You smile, glancing at him. “It is, isn’t it?”

“You look like this song would if it were a person.”

His words make your cheeks flush. It’s the best thing anyone has ever said to you, especially when it comes from Joel. You try to shift the conversation back to him. “What kind of music are you into?”

“Fleetwood Mac, Bob Dylan, David Bowie—”

“I love David Bowie!” you say enthusiastically.

Joel laughs softly at your enthralled reaction. He watches you with a look of admiration in his eyes. “Me too, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you whisper as you bow your head. Scolding yourself internally for losing your composure in front of him.

“Don’t be.”

The song changes to “Storms” by Fleetwood Mac as you look out of the window again, gazing at the white swans swimming on the lake, beautiful as a painting. Time seems to speed up, and soon you see the big wooden sign on the side of the road that reads, ‘Welcome to Lakewood.’

The car passes by towering trees as you approach the small town. You’re so caught up in the scenery before your eyes that you don’t realize Joel has been looking at you. The town is beautiful, much like Silvervale, but a bit bigger.

Finally, you arrive at Lakewood High School. The school is big and built with maroon-colored bricks. Forest trees stand tall behind the building. Joel pulls over in front of the entrance. Some students head inside. The parking lot is full of cars and motorcycles, with teenagers hanging around despite the forty-five degrees weather.

You feel nervous, and your hand is slightly shaking. But you don’t realize it until Joel reaches for your trembling hand and holds it, enveloping your small hand with his large, warm, and calloused one. The contrast between his rough skin and your softness is noticeable.

“Are you okay?” he asks calmly.

You look at your trembling hand covered by Joel’s. Trying to control your anxiety and take a deep breath.

The idea of starting all over again, introducing yourself to strangers scared you more than you realize. You’re scared of being perceived and what if you’re not able to find a friend? You’ve always been a wallflower at your old school, with only one or two friends.

But you push the thoughts away—you’re not going to break down in front of Joel. Instead, you try to focus on the warmth of his hand. It calms you down and alleviates your pounding heart and trembling body.

You nod. “Yeah, I-I’m okay.”

His eyes are full of concern. “You don’t have to do this today if you don’t want to. I can take you back here tomorrow.”

“No, no, I’m okay, I promise.”

You don’t want to burden Joel, who already takes time before work to drive you here. You’re not going to let a little anxiety ruin your day, especially his.

“Are you sure?”

You give him a smile as a sign that you’re okay. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thank you for driving me.”

“Not at all.”

You open the car door and as you try to get out, Joel still clasps your hand, stopping you.

“Joel?”

His gaze is unwavering and intense as he looks at you. “Call me if you need anything okay? Don’t hesitate,” he says with his thumb gently caressing your hand.

Your breath hitches from the intense eye contact. The tension between you is palpable, making your heart race. Unsure if he can feel it or if it’s just you. The pulsing in your core returns and it starts to ache—you’ve never felt like this with anyone before. You rub your thighs together to ease the ache. Joel’s gaze shifts from your eyes to your thighs, and his eyes darken.

“Little girl,” he whispers.

You try to hold back the whimper at the sensation and the way he calls you. “I-I have to go,” you murmur.

You withdraw your hand from him and get out of the car with a pounding heart. You welcome the cool refreshing air and take a deep breath. No one has ever affected you the way Joel has, and you can’t comprehend why. Trying to calm down and gather your thoughts, you head inside the building without looking back and decide to find the front office to collect your schedule and the school map.

Time passes, and the school bell rings signaling the end of the school day. Finally.

You didn’t really pay much attention to your surroundings today. You spent your lunch break alone in the wildflower meadow in the forest behind the school, sipping the cherry cola you bought from the vending machine and smoking a few cigarettes. With your walkman on and your favorite book as your companion.

You got to know a few people from your classes, but not many. Some of the teachers were nice and helpful. The thing you hated the most was the boys hanging out in the hallway, whistling loudly at you as you walked to class. Shitheads.

The last class of the day was English, taught by the handsome teacher Mr. Wayne—according to the students. He’s around thirty, with light tan skin, brown hair, brown eyes, and a slightly graying beard. He’s the youngest male teacher at school, which is why most of the girls are after him. It seems like everybody pays attention to what he teaches in class, or maybe they just admire his looks. He assigned everyone in class a copy of Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare and asked them to write an essay about it.

After you leave the school building, you don’t call Joel to pick you up as he asked you to. Instead, you walk through the forest, but not too far from the road. Keeping your phone’s map open to guide you home.

The earthy and musky scent of the fallen leaves is prominent. The faint breeze gently blows through your hair and rustles the leaves scattered around you. The sky is getting dim, and you have no idea why. You check your watch—it’s only 3:20 PM. You’ve been walking for twenty minutes, with just thirty more to go until you arrive. So, you tighten the jacket around you and walk faster.

After what happened this morning, you don’t dare to face Joel, so it’s best to just avoid him. The way he held your hand, his eyes darkening as he stared at you, was all too much. What if he feels the same way you do and is struggling with it just like you? You swear it was there—the palpable force of tension and electricity between the two of you. Maybe you’re just crazy, imagining things that weren’t there, that it was all in your head. What is wrong with you? He’s your stepdad—why do you feel this way? You’re certain that if someone could read your mind, they’d put you in a mental institution.

Now that you’re alone, you let the tears fall from your eyes. Your heart aches as you wonder if what you feel for him is genuine. Joel is a very kind man and a great partner for your mother, and you’re just a dumb seventeen-year-old girl who holds a secret longing for him. You secretly pray to God that these feelings will fade away. Reminding yourself that you need to control how you feel and distance yourself from Joel from now on before something bad happens.

As you continue walking you hear a faint crunching sound on the fallen leaves behind you. Heart pounding, afraid someone might be following you. It turns out it’s a black kitten trailing behind you as you look back. It meows at you as you approach, and your heart softens.

“Hey, are you alone?” you say softly.

Of course, it only answers you with a meow. You look around but you don’t see another cat. The kitten is alone. You wonder where its mother is. As you kneel on the ground and inspect it, its fur is dirty and tangled, and one of its legs is crooked. It’s a girl. You can’t leave her here alone—what if she dies?

“Why don’t you come home with me?” you whisper to the kitten.

You carefully lift her from the ground and carry her with you. She purrs and snuggles into your jacket as you hold her small form gently in your hands. You smile at the sight.

“You’re okay now, let’s go home.”

The kitten occupies your mind now; all you can think about is getting her home, giving her a warm bath, and tending to her crooked leg. The thoughts about Joel leave your mind.

It’s 4:20 PM by the time you arrive home, soaking wet. Late because you had to take shelter from the rain under the bus stop pavilion, shielding the kitten in your jacket’s inner pocket. You cursed yourself for wearing a black mini skirt today, and now your legs are so cold they almost feel numb.

The driveway is empty, signaling that no one is home. You take the spare key from under the doormat and quickly get inside. You bathe the kitten and take a hot shower yourself, then tend to her tiny, crooked leg before falling asleep in your bed with her.

Unsure how long you’ve been asleep—whether it’s been minutes or hours. You feel a big hand gently caressing your head, which wakes you up from your slumber. You open your eyes slowly and adjust your vision; there you see Joel bent over looking at you with a face full of concern, and his hand on your hair.

“Joel?” you murmur.

“Little girl, where have you been?”

You rub your eyes and slowly sit up, gathering your consciousness. “What?”

He sits on the edge of the bed. “I called and texted you, but you didn’t answer. I told you to call me to pick you up. Then, I went to your school, and you weren’t there, I was sca—” he bows his head and takes a deep breath.

It’s the first time you’ve ever seen Joel looks so scared. His eyebrows are drawn together, his jaw tense, and fear is evident in his eyes.

“Joel, I—”

“I’ve been searching for you everywhere, and your mom too—she was terrified. Where the hell have you been?”

You made everyone worry about you, and you feel so guilty about it. You should have at least let them know. Overwhelmed and too caught up in what happened this morning, you don’t dare reach out to him.

“I-I’m sorry, Joel. I was taking a walk home through the woods to… to clear my mind,” you say, your voice slightly shaking. “I’m so sorry for making you worry; I didn’t mean to.”

Joel’s face softens at your explanation. “But sweetheart, that’s like an hour’s walk.”

“I know,” you whisper.

“It’s still too dangerous, baby. You can’t just walk around the woods. What if you get attacked by animals or worse?”

“I didn’t think about it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t ever do that again.”

Joel is a remarkably handsome man, even when he’s worried, and you can’t help but admire his beauty. In return, he meets your gaze, his brown eyes make you feel safe and warm. His hand tries to reach your face, but you turn your head away and shift the conversation. Joel pulls back his hand.

“I found a kitten in the woods, her leg’s injured. So, I brought her home,” you say, pointing to the kitten sleeping on your pillow.

A smile starts to form on his lips as he looks at the little creature. “I didn’t even realize she was there.”

“Is it okay? I can’t leave her alone.”

“It’s okay, little girl,” he says warmly.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say with a smile. “Where’s mom?”

“Downstairs. She’s upset, I’m gonna talk to her.”

“No, it’s alright. Let me talk to her,” you say. “After all, it’s my fault.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Unconsciously, you remove the blanket from your lap and climb out of bed, stepping over Joel’s thigh. The cold air and the rough fabric of his jeans against your bare legs remind you that you’re only wearing a t-shirt and panties. Joel clears his throat, his cheeks turning red. Embarrassed, you quickly apologize and stride to your closet, shutting the door behind you.

God damn it. How could I forget?

As you go downstairs, you find your mother sitting in the dining room. Joel was right—she’s upset, it’s evident on her face. You stand across the table as your mother’s gaze shifts from the window to you. Your heart feels heavy with guilt as you look at her.

“Mom, I’m so—”

“Where have you been?” she says, her voice elevating.

“I’m so sorry, Mom. I was just taking a walk home, that’s all. I didn’t go anywhere else.”

“Well, you can’t just fucking disappear like that! We were looking for you everywhere. If Joel hadn’t told me, I probably wouldn’t have known.”

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold back your tears.

“No, you didn’t. You wouldn’t have fucking done it if you had known.”

Her words make your tears fall down your cheeks, and you sob quietly. Your mother is always like that—very strict about everything: where you go, what you wear, what time you come home. It’s as if she has been scared for you your whole life, and you never understand why. That’s why you are always cooped up at home.

“You go straight home from school from now on. Joel will pick you up, and no more taking a walk bullshit!” she exclaims. “You’re not going to let everything I’ve done to move here and protect you go to waste—”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but instead, she lowers her head and shakes it.

“Protect me from what?” you ask softly, but your question is met with silence. “Mom—”

“Go to your room!” she yells, making you flinch. “No dinner tonight.”

Without a word, you obey her and go upstairs to your room. In the hallway, you catch a glimpse of Joel sitting on his bed with the door open, his face full of concern. You close your door and cry into your pillow.

In the middle of the night, a knock on your door wakes you up. When you open it, you find a tray of food on the floor: a plate of salmon noodles and a glass of milk. It must be Joel; you know your mother wouldn’t do this. You eat the food with your kitten and then go back to sleep.

October 31

On Halloween day, you lie in the wildflower meadow behind the school like you always do every day during lunch break. Too overwhelmed by the crowd inside, especially the cafeteria, you’ve never eaten there, not even once. You don’t care, though. You love spending your time alone here, with no one to bother you.

The school hosting a Halloween-themed event, allowing students to wear costumes. With a pair of wings, a flowing white dress, and a crucifix necklace, you completed your Juliet Capulet costume. It honestly makes you feel angelic.

It’s your birthday today, and you turn eighteen. You wonder if there’s someone who has a birthday on Halloween as well. If so, they probably live on the other side of the world.

It seems like your mother and Joel forgot your birthday since they didn’t say anything to you. Which makes you feel a bit sad today. To celebrate your birthday, you bought a slice of chocolate cake from the vending machine. You don’t even know what to wish for as you want to blow out the candle, so you just blow it out and eat the cake.

A little while later, you notice a doe standing near the shrubs around the trees, not too far from you. She catches your eye, she’s beautiful just like the one in your painting. So, you get up from your spot and slowly approach her, stopping a few feet away so you don’t scare the doe. You wish you could caress her soft fur and give her gentle kisses. Her eyes are captivating as she looks at you. Maybe it’s your deepest desire that comes true right after you blow out your candle. This very moment makes you feel like you’re in some kind of fairy tale.

The doe slowly steps towards you, but suddenly runs away when she hears a branch crack behind you. As you look back, you catch a glimpse of a man, but he is quickly hiding behind a tree. Heart pounding as you come to the realization that it’s similar to what happened in your dreams. Without thinking further, you run back towards the school. Suddenly, it feels so far, maybe because you have gone too deep into the woods than you realized. All you can think is to run and run; your breath is heavy and your stomach hurts. You hear footsteps behind you, but you do not dare to look back.

Keep running, keep running!

Finally, you reach the school building. Knowing that there are many people around, you dare to look back, and there’s no one is following you. You stand at the edge of the school, confused and feeling like you’re losing your mind. But you’re sure that what you saw was real, not just some trick your mind wanted to see. Suddenly, a hand touches your shoulder, making you flinch and turn around.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

It takes you a few seconds to calm your breath and pounding heart as you look at the person in front of you. His face is full of concern as he looks at you.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Mr. Wayne,” you say.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Are you sure?”

“I just… I thought I saw something, but it’s nothing.”

He nods and speaks calmly, “Okay. Why don’t you just join the party inside with the other students.”

“Yes, Mr. Wayne.”

Joel picks you up after school like he always does. By the time you get home, the house smells like baked goods and cherries.

“Take a walk with me?” says Joel from behind you. His deep voice echoes through the living room.

You turn around and look at him. “Alright. But where are we going?”

He smiles. “You’ll see.”

Joel holds your small hand with his large one as he leads you into the forest behind the house, his other hand holding a picnic basket covered with a white napkin. When you ask him what it contains, he doesn’t answer.

You can’t help but secretly admire Joel’s veiny hand, side profile, and salt-and-pepper curls. He looks so good it makes your heart swell.

“Watch where you’re going, little girl,” says Joel, with a smirk on his face. He catches you eyeing him, like a moth drawn to a flame.

A soft blush tints your cheeks from being caught. “Why can’t you just tell me where we’re going?”

“Patience, baby.”

Walking in the woods again reminds you of what happened earlier. So, you stay cautious throughout the entire walk, hoping no one is following you this time.

A little while later, you arrive at the spot Joel wanted to show you. Hidden behind the tall bushes is a serene lake, where swans swim gracefully. The lake is surrounded by trees and bushes, making it feel like a secret garden.

By the side of the lake is a bone-colored picnic blanket stretched out on the grass, with a few unlit scented candles placed on top of it.

“Joel?” you say, shifting your gaze to him who’s already looking at you with admiration.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

Overwhelmed with happiness, you hug him. “Thank you, Joel. I thought everyone had forgotten.”

“Of course, I didn’t,” he says, his lips brushing your hair.

Pulling back, you gaze up at him. “But mom did. She didn’t say a word to me today. When I woke up, she was already gone.”

Joel caresses your hair with his hand. “Your mom’s busy with work as usual, but I got your present from her.”

That makes you feel a bit better, at least your mother hasn’t entirely forgotten your day. She’s never been there, and you’re always home alone on your birthdays—just buying takeout and watching TV, nothing special. The last time your birthday was celebrated was when you were six. If you’re being honest, you don’t really like having your birthday celebrated. You hate getting older and seeing it as a reminder that death is getting nearer.

But seeing Joel surprise you with all of this makes you think that maybe you deserve it for once. You’re forever grateful that he came into your life and his kindness, for treating you like his own family and making you feel cherished.

The two of you sit on the blanket. Joel takes out the items from the basket while you admire the view. There are countless lavender flowers growing around the lake, and fireflies fly around, glimmering in the foggy air.

Joel takes out the most beautiful cake ever—a heart-shaped cake with pink icing and red cherries on top. He places a tiny candle in the middle.

You blush and smile so widely that your cheeks almost hurt. “Joel, it’s so beautiful. Did you make this?”

He grins. “Yeah, how do you know?”

“The house smelled like cake when we arrived.”

“You caught me.”

“Seriously, Joel, I really love this. Thank you.”

“You deserve this, little girl.”

Have no idea when this will happen again, you savor this beautiful moment and every small thing. You’re not going to let this day be forgotten.

Joel takes a picture of you with his beat-up phone as you blow out the candle. But the birthday cake isn’t the only thing he brings; there’s also grapefruit juice, brownies, chocolates, blueberries, and much more. The two of you eat together, adoring the view and the swans.

“Wish I could stay here forever.”

“You like it here?” he asks.

“Of course I do. I mean, just look at this place—it’s beautiful here,” you say with a smile. “You’re lucky to live here.”

He smiles. “Well, you live here too now, sweetheart. It’s your home.”

“Thank you, Joel, for letting us live with you and for everything.”

“I’m glad to have you here, little girl. It feels more like home now with people around. I’ve been alone for a long time; I came home to a cold house, and it’s warm now with you here.”

The idea of Joel coming to a cold and empty home tugs at your heart. You can’t imagine him being so lonely all the time with no one to care for him. He deserves love and comfort. It makes you a bit glad that your mother has come into his life to fill the emptiness and give him what he needs, even though you secretly wish you could be the one to give it to him.

“I’m gonna keep the fire warm for you.”

Joel’s face softens as he looks at you. “I know you will, sweetheart.”

Your heart warms as you gaze into those dazzling brown eyes and see the sincerity on his face. “I haven’t thanked you enough for everything you’ve done for me—the room, this wonderful birthday, taking me to school, making me breakfast every morning—”

“Sweetheart—”

“For letting Ponyo live with us—”

With a soft expression, he giggles at the mention of your kitten, and you giggle too.

“And so much more,” you whisper.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me for any of it. I’m doing it all for you, and I love every second of it,” says he. “It feels good to have someone to care for.”

You beam.

“So, how was school? Did you make any friends?”

At the mention of friends, your smile slowly fades. “Not really. I’ve been spending time alone. But it’s okay. I mean, I’m not really a people person anyway.”

He gives you a warm smile. “That’s okay, little girl. Sometimes it just takes time. But promise me, if something happens or if you need someone to talk to, you’ll come straight to me, okay? I’m always here.”

“I will. Thank you, Joel.”

You’ve never felt so heard before; it’s like a burden has been lifted from your shoulders. The two of you sit in silence for a while, savoring the peaceful moment.

“They’re beautiful, the swans,” you say.

“They look just like you,” says he, with a heartfelt tone.

You blush and smile, and frankly don’t know how to respond to Joel’s sweet words. Every time he talks to you, it’s as if poetry flows naturally from his mouth.

“Have I told you that you look like a damn angel today, sweetheart?”

“Thank you, Joel,” you whisper and look at him, feeling his breath on your cheeks from how close you two are sitting. “That’s because I’m dressed as Juliet.”

“Belleza demasiado valiosa para ser adquirida, demasiado exquisita para la tierra,” says he.

Cheeks warm and heart racing at his words even though you don’t what it means or what he’s saying. Suddenly, it feels hard to breathe from the strength of the invisible string pulling the two of you together.

You keep your gaze on his eyes as you ask softly, “What does it mean?”

He gently bumps his forehead against yours, making your heart skip a beat. “It means you’re beautiful, little girl.”

It must mean more than that.

You try hard to keep yourself from grabbing his curls and slamming your lips to his, letting him take your breath away. He’s too tantalizing, like a forbidden fruit. But you quickly remind yourself that he is your mother’s boyfriend, not yours.

Joel slowly caresses your soft cheek with his calloused hand and leans forward until your noses touch. But you turn your face away and lower your head. Refusing to let yourself forget the reality.

Did Joel just try to kiss you? The thought races through your mind as you try to make sense of it, sending a rush of heat to your cheeks.

“Can… can I open the presents?” you murmur.

Joel clears his throat. “Yeah, sure, sweetheart.”

Joel takes the wrapped presents out of the basket, and you glance at him, catching something in his expression—is it sadness? You’re not sure. But you try your best to brighten the moment again.

Your mother gifted you a cozy, beautifully knit sweater and a new pair of shoes. Meanwhile, Joel surprised you with an “Among My Swan” vinyl and a lovely wood carving of your kitten, Ponyo, which makes you feel as jolly as a child.

“Oh my god, Joel, this is amazing. Thank you!”

Without further thought, you throw yourself at Joel and envelop him in a hug. In return, Joel laughs softly, circling his arms around you and pulling you into his lap, enveloping your much smaller body.

“You’re welcome, little girl.”

The masculine scent of cedarwood and leather is strong as you bury your face in his neck. It’s comforting and arousing at the same time. You wish you could stay in Joel’s embrace forever, knowing that everything will be okay.

As you try to pull back from his embrace, Joel tightens his arms around you, holding you closer.

“Joel?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

He loosens his arms a little so he can glance at your face. From this close, you can see the texture of his skin—a little wrinkled around the eyes but soft at the same time. His eyes are rich, chocolate brown, but the pupils take over as they dilate when you lock eyes with him. His lips look soft with a natural pinkish hue, and his breath smells like coffee and grapefruit juice.

Joel Miller is beautiful.

His gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips as you start to talk. “Joel, I—”

He interrupts you with a bruising kiss on your lips before you can finish your sentence. His large hand lands on the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while his other arm tightens around your waist.

Oh my. You close your eyes and let him kiss you, feeling his beard rub against your cheeks and chin. Kissing Joel feels like you can finally breathe like he’s giving you his breath to make you feel alive.

Truthfully, you don’t really know what to do—this is the first time you kiss someone. Joel Miller is the one who takes it.

Your hands fist the back of his shirt and tangle in his curls as you moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. Joel groans into your mouth at the sound of your sweet noises. He takes it as an invitation, so he passionately explores your mouth with his tongue, stroking yours and getting lost in the dance.

“Tastes so sweet,” he murmurs between kisses.

His lips are a bit dry but soft, tasting like the blueberries he just ate—sweet and intoxicating. The kiss grows firmer, more desperate—something you’ve never felt before. He sucks on your bottom lip and slips his tongue inside again, leaving a trail of wetness.

You feel something hard pressing against your core, but you don’t know what it is. The warm sensation in your core worsens, pulsing to the point that it starts to hurt. You can’t hold back a whimper at the sensation and start to grind on it slowly to ease the ache, and he begins to groan.

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly.

“Little girl,” he murmurs, panting.

He tightens his grip on your waist to stop your grinding. Slowly, you open your eyes and see the pain on his face. It grounds you to your senses, making you realize that what you’re doing right now is completely wrong. This is exactly what you’ve been trying to avoid.

“This is wrong,” you whisper, starting to cry.

You try to pull back from his embrace, reaching for his arm to let you go. His face shows hurt and the realization of what he’s just done. He releases you from his lap, and you sit on the blanket, concealing your face with your palms as you begin to sob.

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” you murmur, your voice muffled.

“No, baby, It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

You feel his hand carefully touch your shoulder, and he begins to hold your trembling form in his embrace. You can’t look at him, feeling too guilty about what you’ve just done. Joel is your stepdad; this is deeply wrong. You ruined everything and betrayed your mother.

“Oh God, what have I done?” you whisper under your breath.

“I am so sorry, baby. This is not your fault, okay? Please listen to me,” Joel says, his voice filled with pain, as if he’s on the verge of crying.

You keep apologizing to him, even as he tells you to stop. Yet, he still embraces you gently, as if you’re something delicate and fragile.

After a few moments, you’re able to control your sobs and stop crying. You let him hold your hand as he walks you back home. Once he’s sure you’re okay, he returns to the lake to clean up and give you some time alone.

Lying on your bed, eyes dry from tears, you replay everything that just happened. You start to feel numb, unable to cry anymore, and your head aches. You try to focus on the good things that happened today, but the image of kissing Joel and the guilt cloud your mind, making it impossible to forget.

The sky grows darker outside the window, and the sound of children laughing and trick-or-treating from the street reaches your room. But you don’t hear any noise from downstairs or any sign of Joel coming back.

Where’s Joel? Is he okay?

Feeling lonely and cold, you feel guilty for wishing Joel could be here to hug you and keep you warm. Ponyo’s presence snuggling on your chest makes you feel a bit better; maybe you’re not as lonely after all.

Eventually, you fall asleep with your wings still on.

taglist @morganlolitta

[mrcavill88]

Despondency turned rapture

Pairing: Stepdad Andy Barber x Stepson Male reader

Summary: A recent family passing took a deep toll on you. Never have you ever felt so isolated from humanity. The only thing keeping you going are the lewd activities between you and your stepfather

Word count: 2.1k+

Warnings: 18+, ANGST, mentions of death, SMUT, age gap (reader just turned 18, Andy is 42) drunk Andy, reader is a stoner, intimacy in the shower, Dom Andy, deep kissing, skin biting, stripping, spanking, fingering, prostate orgasm, oral sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, cum control, breeding, cuddling

A/N: Hey everyone thanks for all your support lately. This is my first Steve only fic, hope you enjoy! (If you have any questions/requests, feel free to ask me in my bio;)

You're not quite sure how your life crumbled apart so easily. One moment you're frolicking in the park with your beloved mother and stepfather, then you're hyperventilating in a hospital hoping your mother's life could see another day.

*FLASHBACK 6 MONTHS*

"Mom! P-please *sniffle* please stay with me!" you pled as you tightly gripped your mothers hand, her body laying near lifeless on the hospital bed. "Sir! Why are you in the room? Your mother is in a fragile state I understand your pain but you need to exit immediately!" the frantic doctor yelled as he tried to pry you from your mother.

"Get the hell off me!" you yelled as you shoved the doctor into the concrete wall. "Mom! Mom! Answer me!" you cried as tears stained your cheeks, feeling helpless as your mother remains unresponsive.

And then it came

The longest, most heartbreaking beep you've ever heard in your whole life. The beep that signified the death of your mother. You fell to your knees as you've just accepted what reality has become, a reality without your mother.

"Y/N! What happened? Is she okay?" your stepdad Andy panicked as he rushed over to you, seeing your mother. "N-no, NO! NO!" Andy screamed as he hugged your body tightly, in grievance of your dead mother. Both of you sat on the floor, drowned in tears as you've both lost the dearest person in your lives.

The trip out of the hospital was one that wasn't that long, but for you and Andy? It was a million years. It took a host of angels to get you out of that hospital, several doctors needed to escort you out of the hospital room. That day, a part of you was never the same, you became an incomplete puzzle with a forever missing piece.

*FLASHFORWARD TO PRESENT*

You sit in your bed, still grieving your dear mothers death. A mountain of disposables piling up in the corner of the room, making the room reek of weed. A deep and scratchy exhale left your mouth as you continue to sit in your room, refusing to leave your domain. It seems like years since you've spoken to anyone,

Well, almost anyone

The only trustworthy person in your life? Your stepdad Andy. You two have always had a close relationship, you both understood each other on a level no one else (besides your mother) could. But little did each of you know, the deep feelings you both felt for each other. I mean, how could one resist Andy? His beautiful blue eyes that dilated each time he saw you, his broad figure and chiseled muscles, his structured face and sexy beard. You knew it was wrong, especially after your mothers death, but it was something out of your control.

"Y-Y/N! G-get your ass o-over h-here!" he yelled, slurring his words amid his recent alcohol addiction. You slumped off your bed and walked over to Andy's bedroom, the unpleasant aroma of alcohol filled the room as you shut the door; bottles upon bottles of beer stacked in his closet.

"Y/N, y-you better s-stop sm-smoking, i-it'll kill you. If I f-find one more goddamn c-cart in the t-trash, I-I'm whooping your ass. Understand?" he said, barely able to connect his words together. "You think y-you can talk? It smells like shit in here, I don't know how you keep all those muscles and that jawline when all you do is drink all the fucking time! Give it a fucking break already!" you yelled, right before a thick hand smacked your cheek, you held your face.

Andy grabbed your face yelling, "You speak t-to me like t-that again? I'll fucking k-kill you, understand?" squeezing your face. You nodded as tears formed and fell down your face. You ran out of Andy's room, into your room, slamming the door, staying there for what seemed like an eternity, but was only 2 days.

*FLASHFORWARD 2 DAYS LATER*

A light knock on the door awakened your seemingly endless slumber. You stood up, feeling sticky and extremely hungry, and dragged your body towards the door and opened it to a surprisingly healthy Andy, who didn't smell.

"Hey y/n, I know you probably want to talk to me but, I'm really concerned about you. You haven't left your room in ages and your mothers death (tears up) left its toll on both of us, but I know she wants us to find happiness in our lives. So please, would you come out? Maybe we could spend some time together?" he asked, caressing the cheek that he slapped the other day.

You gave him a blank expression, still feeling a little scared of Andy after what happened yesterday. "Fine". You finally walked out of your room, the sunshine blinding you as you sit down on the couch.

"Now, let's get you cleaned up. Honey, can you please take a shower?" Andy asked, his cute nickname for you leaving you a little bit surprised. You reluctantly entered the bathroom, it seems like an eternity since you last entered it. You undressed yourself and turned on the hot water, waiting for steam to accumulate before you entered. The hot water dampening your soft skin as you cleanse yourself for the first time since your mothers death. As you were washing your hair, you noticed the bathroom door slowly creaked open. The feeling of curiosity and anxiety filled you as you waited for someone to show up.

"Y/N? Can I come in?" Andy asked, as the door was still slightly ajar.

"Come in"

Andy walked in with a white tank top that perfectly illustrated his large biceps and broad shoulders, and, it got hard, and, it seemed that he realized this. He walked over to the shower and opened the door

"Hey! Get out! I need some privacy!" you yelled as you covered your private parts, slightly blushing. "Oh I'm sorry, lemme just close this" Andy said as he seductively slapped your ass, causing you to jolt and moan a little. "GET OUT!" you yelled, clearly aggravated, little did he know a little turned on as well. He left before you finished your shower, you turned off the water, dried yourself off and put on a tight little black tank top and some shorts.

You walked out and approached Andy in the living room, still a little surprised at what he did in the bathroom. "H-hey Andy, sorry I got mad at you there" you chuckled. "Oh it's all good Y/N, in the end, that was my bad. Come sit with me, the patriots are on right now" he said to you, bringing you over to the couch, sitting you next to him.

Oh God

You were feeling things you never felt before, things you shouldn't be feeling, he was your... stepdad. This was wrong, you couldn't help but feel butterflies race around your stomach, your body temperature rising as Andy got closer and more touchy with you.

"So Y/N, you like football?" he asked you, wrapping his muscular arm around your shoulder. You didn't answer him; you couldn't even think straight you were going crazy, sweat accumulating on your forehead.

"Y/N? Why so silent?"

"S-sorry I'm just-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before you found the six foot one man hands all over you, pinning you to the couch.

"H-hey! What're you doing!" you whined out as he got closer and closer to your face. "Oh Y/N, sweet innocent Y/N, I know you like me, in fact, you love me." he said, tightening his grip on you as he was practically an inch away from your face. "N-no Andy, this is wrong! You're my stepdad! What would mom think?" "Y/N, at a certain time, you have to move on, your mother was an amazing person, she would want us to be happy right?"

You shrugged your shoulders in response before Andy's lips crashed onto yours, your tongues twisting together, fighting for dominance; you lost. "Mm baby I've been waiting years for this, you don't understand how hard I'm gonna fuck you" he huffed as he continued kissing you, moving onto your neck. "Fuck, daddy" you moaned.

"Mm, daddy huh? I like that name, you only address me as that now, understand?" You whimpered in response as Andy started biting and sucking on your neck. Moans and whines leaving your mouth as your own stepfather was leaving hickeys on your baby soft skin.

When he was finished with you, you were a moaning and whining mess, breathing in and out at a rapid pace as Andy's eyes starting filling with something, insurmountable lust. "Strip for daddy" he commanded as he put you on your knees. You slowly removed your clothing unveiling your beautiful and slim frame.

Andy stared at your angelic figure, completely awestruck by the beauty that stand before him. He grabbed onto your shoulders and started sucking on your skin again. "Mm fuck baby! You taste as good as you look, you're gonna feel so good with me inside you!"

"Mm, fuck me daddy!" you moaned as the bearded man vigorously bit and licked your skin. He grabbed your body and placed your moaning figure over his lap; you knew exactly what part was next. He squeezed and fondled your cheeks, praising them before his hands gripped them firmly.

"Count"

"o-one" *SMACK* his hand swiftly cuffed your right cheek, causing you to wince in pain, and a wee bit of pleasure.

"two" *SMACK* he smacked your left cheek with even more force, causing you to scream as a tear leaked from your eye.

Said smack became 5 smacks, then 15, then 30. At 31, your ass cheeks were tinted red and tears stained your cheeks as your stepdad had just smacked the hell out of your ass.

"Oh baby, don't cry. Daddy is so proud of you, and he thinks it's time for your reward, baby. Come on, open up"

You aversely spread your legs open, leaning up on the couch you were sitting on. Right then and there, Andy slowly inserted his thick fingers into your tight and tiny hole. He used his spit as a lubricant to make the trip nice and smooth, causing moans and whines to constantly leave your mouth.

"Daddy! Ugh! Fuck daddy! That feels so good!" you whined as his fingers went in and out of your hole.

"Oh baby I love to hear you moan, it's like music to my ears. Now, this might hurt, just sit still ok sweetie?" he kindly said as he started finger fucking you with multiple fingers. Your moans started becoming screams as the feeling of pleasure, pain, and discomfort consumed your body.

"D-daddy! I c-can't take it anymore! I'm g-gonna cum!" you whined as you could feel your cock twitch uncontrollably, completely wet with pre-cum.

"Oh no you don't" he said cupping your cock in his other hand, making you even more horny. "Daddy can't have you cumming yet, I know you can do it, be a good boy for daddy". At this point, you were practically walking on strings, shear milliseconds away from shooting your load.

Andy finally released his fingers from you, sucking on them. "Delicious. Oh baby, you're such a determined little boy, thank you for not cumming, daddy appreciates it! Now, get on your knees baby, daddy needs to unload a little". You were still a little weak from Andy finger fucking you, but you got on your knees as Andy unleashed his meat. You've been picked down by many, but nothing surmounted Andy's cock. It looked to be 8 inches long, and insanely thick. You licked his bitter tip, causing him to groan out, before you started sucking his dick.

It didn't take much before you started gagging, your drool spilling from your mouth as Andys dick invaded every corner of your mouth. "T-take it easy b-baby. Oh fuck! Baby you look so good around my dick like this!" He started to thrust into your face, you almost fell back at his aggression. The sound of moans filled the room as Andy could feel himself getting close. Noticing this, you started moaning and whining on his dick, sending vibrations up his dick. "F-fuck baby" he moaned as he shot his thick and warm cum into your mouth, filling your mouth with his baby batter.

"Oh baby you did so well! Now, it's time for the grand finale! Come on baby, face down, ass up"

You stood crawled up on the couch and did as he asked, face down, ass up, your hole still lubricated after Andy's fingers violated it. "This is a very special memory Y/N, let's make the most of it. Alright?" he softly said before he violently thrusted his cock in your hole, going in and out aggressively.

"Daddy! Ugh! I love your cock so much daddy!" you whined as his meat was invading every bit of your insides. His thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier by the second as the pleasure he felt weakened his knees.

That's when it happened

His dick thrusted into your prostate causing you to go crazy, cock twitching uncontrollably as cum shot from your cock onto the couch, practically painting a section white. "B-baby, I-I'm close, y-you're doing so well" Andy groaned as he was once again close from summing, this time inside you.

"I love you daddy!" you screamed as your legs started to wobble. At those words, Andy lost it. His cock shooting ropes and ropes of cum into your velvety walls, painting them white. You both collapsed on the couch, completely drowned in pleasure after having sex the best sex of your lives. You crawled up onto Andy's muscles, cuddling up against him.

"I love you" you said before you lightly kissed his lips

"I love you too Y/N" he huffed before you both fell asleep in each others arms

THE END

Thanks for reading:)

[harrysfolklore]

birthdays with harry

this was inspired by @sirtommyholland’s four years of birthdays blurb ! one of my fave blurbs ever <3 i hope you like this

happy birthday harry, i love you

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

2011 - 17th birthday

"Happy birthday, dear Harry, happy birthday to you!"

Harry smiled as everyone around him sang, the room full of the people he loved: his mom, stepdad, sister, bandmates that he loved like his brothers, friends from school and the girl who he was head over heels for.

His best friend and now his girlfriend.

"Make a wish, bro!" Niall cheered and ruffled Harry's curls for a second.

"All of my wishes are coming true right now." Harry said and the entire room awed, making him blush before blowing his candles.

After the cake was cut and everyone spread around Harry's childhood home, he looked for his girlfriend, finding her in the kitchen helping his mum put away some dishes.

"YN, would you go out with me for a minute?" Harry asked, still shy to call her pet names in front of his mum even tho Anne was ecstatic over the fact that Harry was dating the girl she adored like a daughter.

"Sure, let me just finish up these dishes."

"Oh don´t worry about it sweetie, I can handle them myself." Anne told her with a small smile and motioned then to go.

Once they were outside and away from the chatter and laughter, Harry stood in front of her and grabbed her hands.

"You know, I'm so happy you agreed to be my girlfriend." Harry shyly told her, still new to the feeling.

"And I'm so happy you asked me to be your girlfriend." YN said with the same shy smile on her face.

"No matter how big the band becomes, you'll always be my number one girl, I'll never forget about you." Harry told her sincerely, knowing it was one of YN's biggest insecurities.

Harry was just turning 17, but he made a promise that would last forever.

2015 - 21st birthday

"This party is insane!" Niall said as they entered the club where Harry's birthday party was taking place, the room full of celebrities and close friends.

"Damn, Jeff really went all out with this," Harry held his girlfriend's hand, keeping her close, "Do you want me to get you a drink?"

"I'm not drinking tonight."

"Why? It's my birthday, baby." Harry grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles softly.

"Exactly, and I want you to enjoy it. So no drinking for me so you can go all out." YN kissed his cheek softly, his long hair getting in the way and tickling her face a bit.

"I don't even want to drink that much tonight darling, don't want to have a killer handover tomorrow."

However, that statement was thrown out the window as Harry chugged down his 7th tequila shot of the night.

"Baby! Come up here!" Harry yelled, standing on top of the bar with Jeff's arm around his shoulder.

"Harry, get down, how did you even climb up there?"

"Tequila gives me special powers!" He started jumping up and down and that was her cue to get him down the bar with Glenne's help.

"My love! I've missed you." Harry obnoxiously wrapped his arms around her in a hug, placing sloppy kisses on her neck.

"Harry, you're hammered!" YN grabbed his face to look at him, his eyes giving away his drunken state.

"I know!" he let out a loud laugh, "I have an idea!"

And before YN could stop him, the music was going down and he had a microphone on his hand.

"Hello! Hello! Can everybody hear me?" Harry said into the mic, making everyone turn to look at him, "Sorry to interrupt your partying, I just wanted to thank my amazing friend Jeff for throwing this party for me."

At the mention of his name, Jeff let out a whistle and cheer, making Harry laugh as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

"And I would also love to thank my incredible, stunning, gorgeous girlfriend YN for... just being hot and charming," he drunkenly spoke into the mic again, making YN blush and hide her face in her hands, "You know, I'm going to propose that girl one day! I will!

The entire room erupted in cheers and claps, and years later, the drunken promise he made on his 21st birthday became true.

2019 - 25th birthday

"Happy birthday, baby." Her soft voice made its way to Harry's ears, waking him up from his slumber and instantly smiling at the feeling of her lips pressing kisses to his jaw.

"Thank you, my love." He mumbled sleepily, tightening his arms around her and dropping his head to lean his forehead against hers.

After YN gave Harry his "traditional birthday shag", they headed downstairs to cook some breakfast before starting Harry's big day.

"How do you feel about being 25?" YN said as she took out the ingredients to cook him some pancakes, "Any expectations for today?"

"I just know it'll be my best birthday yet," he smiled softly as he watched her move around the kitchen, "You know, my first birthday as an engaged man, soon to be husband."

YN couldn't help but smile at the sound of that, still not quite used to the fact that they would be husband and wife soon.

"Who would've thought my high school boyfriend would become my husband." YN turned around to face him, meting his soft green eyes instantly.

"I always knew it," he shrugged before continuing, "I knew you were the one for me from the moment I laid my eyes on you."

Getting closer to him, YN grabbed his face and placed a kiss on his lips.

"I love you so much, baby. Thank you for letting me spend another birthday with you." she kissed him again her smile mirroring Harry's when they pulled away.

"This is just the beginning of the rest of our lives, darling."

And as Harry stood in his kitchen with his fianceé wrapped around his arms, he knew his 25 was going to be one to remeber.

2023 - 29th birthday

Harry found himself in the same position he was during his 17th birthday, in a room full of people he loved while the sang happy birthday to him.

But he wasn't on his childhood home anymore, he was backstage in Acrisure Arena surrounded by his tour crew, bandmates, managers, family members and his beloved wife.

"Blow the candles and make a wish!" Sarah said after they were done singing to him, and the words naturally came out of Harry's mouth.

"All of my wishes are coming true right now."

"Awe! You're all grown up now mate." Jeff hugged Harry tightly, making everyone in the room look at them fondly.

"Okay Azoff, that's enough, I need to give him his present now." YN said as he grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him out of the room.

"Make sure to be quiet! The walls are thin around here." Lambert joked making the group laugh, and YN only rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger to him before they were out of the room.

"Sooo, you're going to give me my present now?" Harry teased as they walked down the corridor to his dressing room.

"Not that kind of present, you menace," YN turned to look at him quickly as she opened the door to his dressing room, "That one is the reserved for when we're alone in our hotel room."

"Don't tease me, baby. I have a show in two hours." Harry said with a serious tone, making YN laugh as she approached the tote bag where she was keeping his gift, taking the box out and placing it on his hands.

"Okay, open it." YN took a step back and clasped her hands together, her nerves kicking in.

"Told you you didn't need to get me anything," he said as he opened the box, not looking inside of it yet, "I would've been more than satisfied with a 29 minute long blowj-"

"Just look at it!" YN cut him off before he could finish his sentence, making him laugh and turn his gaze to the box in his hands.

And when he realized what was inside, he froze at his spot and his eyes got instantly tearful.

"YN wha-" he stopped himself as his voice began shaking, "Is this...? I mean are you...?"

"I'm pregnant, Harry." She simply said, smile wide on her face and tearful eyes that matched his.

"Fuck," Harry finally took the pregnancy test out of the box and gave it a proper look, noticing the unmistakable two lines that indicating that his wife was expecting his child, "Fuck YN, you're pregnant, we're going to be parents."

"We are, baby." YN couldn't keep her cool anymore as she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and making him wrap his around her waist, both of them letting out happy tears.

And in that moment, Harry knew that becoming a dad was the best way to end his twenties.

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi i @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles

[holylulusworld]

Forbidden lust (2) - Kinktober 1

Summary: It's time for payback. And more fun with your "stepdad".

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Kink: Homewrecker kink

Warnings: no real stepcest, smut, unprotected sex, doggy style, breeding kink, homewrecker kink, gags, past cheating, mentions of character’s death, more plot than expected

Catch up here: Forbidden Lust

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Part 2/3

Two weeks after the incident at Bucky’s office, …

After the day in Bucky's office, you ended up tangled in each other most of the time. It’s a wonder that he didn’t break you yet.

You find yourself pressed up a wall or bent over any surface the moment Bucky lays eyes on you.

He’s obsessed with you. 

If you don’t stop him, Bucky is all over you. Even in front of people.

Steve walked in on you more than once. He learned his lesson and tried to remember to knock before entering a room. 

Today you wanted to talk about your father’s last will but ended up pressed against one of the sliding glass doors at Bucky’s penthouse leading to the balcony.

Not that you would ever complain about getting destroyed by his glorious cock. The problem is you don’t get things done with him around.

Just like right now. Instead of talking about your father’s last will, and what Bucky’s friend the lawyer, and the private investigator he hired found out, you are doing it like rabbits again.

“Shit, you look so good filled with my fat cock. You’re meant to be full of me all the time. I’m gonna…fuck…” Bucky jerks his hips harder into your ass. He’s close to losing himself inside of you once again. “I’ll fill you up and breed this cunt. Dot will be furious seeing you round with your stepdaddy’s bastard.”

Dressed in his expensive suit, only the tie he stuffed into your mouth missing, he fucks the neediness out of you. He groans and curses your name, all the while praising you. 

You whimper behind the makeshift gag in your mouth. It’s all you can do. Bucky cages you with his body and presses your trembling form against the glass door. Your breath fogs the glass door, while the glass feels cool against your heated skin. 

“That’s it,” he places one hand against the window, right next to your head. “You always take my cock so well. Mouth, ass, pussy. All of your holes are just perfect. Unlike Dot’s dry desert.”

His crass words have you on the edge. Only thinking of Dot knowing that you fuck her fiancé makes you lose control every single time. You are so painfully close to your orgasm that you’d do anything for the man ramming his length into you.

“B-ucky,” you moan behind the gag. “P-lease…”

“What do you want?” he whispers in your ear, chest pressed against your naked back. “Do you want me to tell you that you stole me from Dot? That you’re a bad girl fucking a taken man?

You can only nod. Bucky knows about your kink. Because he won’t let you fuck taken men, he pretends to be engaged to Dot once in a while.

“Let me just,” he pulls out to push you onto the couch. You squeak, but don’t fight Bucky when he spreads your legs to slide back inside of your dripping cunt. “That’s better. I want to see your face while I fuck you.”

Bucky throws your legs over one of his shoulders, holding them in a tight grip as he starts moving again. 

“Maybe we should send her a video of us fucking?” He smirks darkly when your eyes become glassy. “Oh, yeah. Your cunt just squeezed me tight enough to hurt. We could just let her walk in on us again. I’ll show her your cunt stuffed with my cum.”

You grip your breasts, rolling your nipples between your fingers, all the while staring up at Bucky. “Cum for me, doll. I wanna hear you sing my name.”

“B-ucky,” you spit the gag out to moan his name. “I want you to fill me up. Show her that you’re mine now.”

“Fuck, baby doll.” He spurts into you. “Have all of me now…”

“Bucky, we should focus,” you whimper when he nips at your neck. Bucky has you pressed against another window; his arms wrapped tightly around you. “I mean it. We are at your lawyer’s office. He will be back any minute.”

“Just look out of the window and let me taste your sweet spot,” he smirks against you. “Andy wouldn’t mind watching me kiss my girl.”

“James, and Ms. Y/L/N,” Andy walks inside the room, a manila folder tugged under his arm. “Can we start? I’ve got another appointment in two hours.”

Andy isn’t very happy seeing Bucky and you make out like horny teens. He clears his throat to pull Bucky’s attention toward him, not your neck. “Bucky.”

“What do you have for me, Andy?” Bucky pecks your temple. He whispers in your ear, making your heart flutter. “Do we have anything against Dot yet?”

“I talked to Mr. Y/L/N’s lawyer. He was as shocked as Y/N and her uncle that Mr. Y/L/N changed his last will one week before his death.” Andy placed a document on his desk. He pauses to look at you.

Bucky and you sit down to take a look at the papers.

“I didn’t know any of this,” you sniff. “Why did he do this? One week before his death, he changes his last will. I don’t get it. I know Dot is a master at manipulating people. But this…” You shake your head.

“We don’t know why he did what he did yet,” Andy continues. “But we know that he came with Dot to his lawyer’s office. The private investigator and the computer forensics expert he’s working with will come in half an hour. Maybe they found out more.”

“What about the last will? Can you tell us more about it?” Bucky asks. He’s back to business and tries to focus on the task at hand.  

“The original will states that the house and all of his possessions will go to his daughter. He wanted his brother and Y/N to take over the company together.”

“I knew it,” you sniffle. “Something was fishy about his last will.”

“Doll, you need to calm down,” Bucky softly says and pats your thigh. “Don’t work yourself up.”

“I cannot tell you why, Mr. Y/L/N, I can only tell you that your father took the redacted last will home without signing it. Two days later, his wife came to his lawyer's office and handed him the signed papers.”

“Did you start without us?” You crane your neck to watch the men entering Andy’s office step toward his desk. “You couldn’t wait a little longer?”

“Name’s Jake,” one of them, a guy with blonde spiky hair, holds out his hand. “I’m a computer forensics expert. If you want me to, I’ll hack into any account and make your enemies look like a clown…or an alien. Whatever you like best.”

“Jensen, not now,” the other man says. Unlike his colleague, he’s a little gruff and more serious. “Mr. Barnes, Ms. Y/L/N, I’ve got some good news for you.”

“Ari, a pleasure to meet you again,” Bucky holds out his hand to greet Ari. “What did you find out?”

“I found it out,” Jake grins. “Little Miss Dottie falsified your father’s signature. Undoubtedly, your father never signed the new version of his last will. I checked it thrice.”

“We need to look into his accident too. The police didn’t want to cooperate with me so far. But I got an insider who will send me everything I’ll need,” Ari says. He watches your face fall and tries to choose his next words wisely.

"What do you mean? I thought the police said it was an accident," you watch Ari with worried eyes.

"I’m sorry to tell you, but I believe your father’s death wasn’t an accident…"

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[icallhimjoey]

Can we have a sweet and soft Christmas eve with Joey? Just the two of us? pretty please

this was requested at the perfect time, so thank you, and merry christmas my sluts! Wordcount: 1.7K

---

Still Love Me?

"I'm sorry, I'm not crying because I'm upset, d-don't worry, I just..."

You don't get like this very often. Usually, trying to be extra affectionate makes you scrunch your nose up, makes you squirm and laugh and cringe. Makes you push him away, not taking the extra hugs and kisses seriously at all.

Joe doesn't mind.

"What's wrong?"

It's actually nice to not always feel the need to give you more. To not be afraid that maybe you'd be upset after not immediately coming over to hug and kiss you when he'd walk in at the end of the day.

But something's different tonight.

It's likely the holiday stress that's getting to you. Nothing a pair of extra affectionate warm embracing arms won't fix.

"I thought we had more cheese, but all we've got left is this..."

You suppress a sob.

Unsuccessfully.

Joe knows the tears are only there because all of everything has come together for the perfect storm, and you're just about ready to fall apart.

It's sort of cute that it's a lack of cheese that does it, and Joe's secretly glad it's not something that he'd done or said that got you. That it's not his fault, and that he doesn't have to apologise over something unimportant.

It's fine, though, the crying.

Joe had been ready for it.

He's got steady hands and is prepared to catch whatever needs catching. Knows how to put you back together just fine.

"Why did I do this? I've got to stop sneaking things, I– look, there's no... this is all we've got..."

You've got family coming over tomorrow, and it's the first year that your place is the spot for the big get together. It's nerve-racking in new ways you didn't know existed before because you're bringing both sets of parents in, and all you want to do is make the family proud.

Be the perfect daughter.

Have the stepmothers and stepdads get along as well as all of the divorced people. All of the siblings. Step-siblings.

Fuck, there's too many people coming over.

Could you still cancel, do you think?

You just... you just want Christmas be wholesome, and festive, and cosy, full of laughter and love and just... have it be perfect.

It's almost become a bit of a passion project, and it's quite literally driven you mad.

Well. Driven you to tears, at least.

Joe looks over and sees you hold a little block of brie cheese. It's not much, and it's got a bite taken out of it.

"Wait, did you–" Joe's already smiling, because what the fuck is he looking at right now? His girlfriend's got tears in her eyes and is stood in front of the opened fridge door, holding a bit of French cheese that has teeth marks in.

Surely, you are able to imagine what this looks like from his point of view.

It's at least a little funny.

But another sob wracks from your chest and all Joe can do is step closer and wrap arms around your shaking frame.

He's allowed to laugh as he does so.

"I didn't know- I thought we had more, b-but this was all we have, and I snuck a bite last night, because I– I was peckish and just wanted a little something, and–"

"Hey," Joe leans back and gets your face in both his hands. He's still smiling. Can't not smile, because this is ridiculous, but you also look very cute. Red nose. Fat tears stuck in your eyelashes. The colour of your eyes about ten times brighter because of the unshed ones.

"We'll serve 'em dry crackers, and they'll fucking take what they're given, all right?"

You pout and hold up the evidence of your late-night-snack-run in your own kitchen from the night before. It's right in between your faces and gives Joe a chance to really see the cause of the outburst.

"Still love me?"

Joe looks at the brie a second and then lurches forward with a growl, sinking teeth into the soft cheese for a bite of his own.

"Still love you." he replies, mouth full of cheese.

You can't help the choking laugh, head cocking to the side as a defeated soft chuckle leaves you. It only makes Joe want to grab hold of you tighter.

"Hmm," Joe hums, now chewing, and he frowns. "This is good. We should–" he can't finish the sentence without laughing, knowing it's likely the wrong thing to say, but he's already started the sentence. You get a good eyeful of the cheese in his mouth, in between his teeth. "We should get more of this."

Well, you can't.

Hence the crying.

You pout once more and then groan. It's so stupid, you're well aware. You just need a bit of sleep. Your family won't hate you because there's no cheese.

And if anything, you could throw it into the group chat and are sure that at least three people have some brie to bring along tomorrow.

You really are just very tired.

"Tell you what," Joe says, now taking the little piece of cheese from your fingers, one arm still around you. "We'll finish this, have some hot chocolate and just... relax. Watch a Christmas film. Tomorrow is tomorrow and tonight is tonight, you've done enough prepping and it'll all be fine–"

"Perfect." you correct.

It's important that everything will be perfect.

"It'll all be perfect." Joe coos, voice smooth like butter.

You sniff and look at him a moment. He's still chewing. Smiling. Joe's being all playful and it's reminding you of why you love him so much. Glancing into the living room, you know Joe's right. Everything's ready. Everything's done.

It's Christmas Eve.

"Calm before the storm." you sigh, patting Joe where you're holding onto him. Then lower down, quick touch to the bum. Joe easily lets you.

"Calm before the storm." he confirms before you let go of each other. You move to collect yourself, wiping fingers below your eyes, and Joe opens a cupboard to get to mugs out and says, "And I'll go get extra cheese tomorrow, it'll be fine."

You're about to protest. Tell him that the shop you usually go to won't be open. It'll be Christmas. And everyone's stocked up already. Shelves are empty all over. But Joe sees it across your face before you can say anything and adds, "I'll find some, don't worry about it."

And so you don't.

You accept a kiss to your temple, a deep inhale of your hair and you tilt your head for a kiss on the lips. A quiet thank you.

After a squeeze of your arm, Joe gets started on the hot chocolate and you decide to see if there's anything good on TV or if it'll be Netflix for the night.

Before you've been able to make a choice, you hear mugs being filled and you scurry back into the kitchen. You get to the fridge before Joe does, which was the plan. You find the can of squirty cream amongst all of the food and drink - your fridge has never been this full. It's almost triggeringly full; so much food, yet so little cheese.

It takes you too long, and Joe joins to look over your shoulder, to see if he can spot it before you do.

He doesn't.

You find it and giggle excitedly, a little delirious (you've gone mad, remember?) as you shake it with a wild arm. Your demeanor is the opposite of what it was minute earlier.

No tears. Just manic laughter.

Makes Joe laugh just the same. His girlfriend's gone insane and, if he's honest, he's kind of into it.

You spray some cream into both mugs that Joe's filled with hot chocolate, and before you place it back into the fridge, you shake the can again.

"You just said you should stop sneaking things," Joe isn't exactly trying to stop you, but he knows what you're about to do. Feels like it's worth saying something, to maybe prevent a further break down.

It's of no use, though.

His comment makes you glance him pointed a look. It's ridiculous of him to assume you'd been serious. Of course you're not going to stop sneaking things. He doesn't see the deadpan stare you give him because he's busy placing mini marshmallows onto your drinks, but despite the advice, you go for it anyway.

You tip your head back and spray some of the cream directly into your mouth.

"My God," Joe says when you let it go for a little too long, and when he looks, he barks a laugh.

You've overdone it.

It's too much.

Well, is it ever too much? Not really. But it doesn't fit into your mouth and thus there's a problem. This is going to be messy.

With your head still tilted back, you release a small sound of panic at the inability to close your mouth and raise a cupped hand, ready to catch whatever is going to spill.

But Joe knows just the perfect fix, and he's quick.

Before you know what's happening, your boyfriend's got his hand on the back of your neck, digging in strong fingers and guiding your head forward.

Just before whatever your lips can't curl around is about to slide down your chin, Joe's mouthing at it and manages to get it all, tongue licking and lips closing around your opened ones.

What follows is a weird, full-cheeked sticky, creamy, sugary kiss that has you giggling into each others mouths.

It's still messy, but you'd easily do this again. Would it be too obvious if you just went for an insane mouthful once more?

Joe pulls back, sees he's missed a bit and doesn't hesitate to lick at the corner of your mouth, making you shriek with your mouth closed, pushing him away.

"You're gross," you say fondly after swallowing.

He's also adorably sweet, but he doesn't need telling.

Joe lets his head bobble back a little as he silently laughs, wiping at his own mouth with the back of his hand, glad to have been of service.

"Yea? Still love me?"

Tomorrow's going to be fine.

There's no cheese but for the little chunk you're about to share. It'll likely be all gone if you both have a single cracker with some on.

And there probably also won't be any squirty cream left, what with your plan to bring the can over to the sofa for top-ups after you've eaten all of it off. Or, you know, after you've sprayed more of it into your mouth just so Joe can eat it out of there again.

You families can have hot chocolate without any, and Joe's right. They'll fucking take what they'll be given and be grateful.

Or, Joe can find some tomorrow.

Somewhere.

Whatever.

You're no longer fussed.

It's Christmas. Christmas Eve.

"Still love you." you beam, because you do.

You really, really do.

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @chrissymjstan, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[buzzcutlip]

congrats on 100 maggie that’s amazing!! 🎉🫶🏻

could I request carmy with a single!mom reader and they’re still kinda fresh in their relationship and with both of their busy schedules it’s hard to have any alone time and whenever they’re trying to have privacy for adult fun time it keeps being interrupted by reader’s little one bc reader’s daughter loves carmy and they’re both going crazy but also love becoming a new lil family. I just keep thinking about how carmy would be with a little kid and how he’d take over the role of a stepdad-dad 😩

Thank you! :)

I would like to say that I love kids and I worked in childcare for years. However, I'm not much into kid fics - rarely read them and never wrote one! Your prompt got me thinking so I'm sharing my head canons about stepdad!Carmy (explicit stuff behind the cut!)

You're so scared to tell Carmy you're a mom because you've started having real feelings; it's not just fooling around anymore. When you finally share that you've got a little girl, you're sick to your stomach with nerves, worried about the possibility of being rejected or ridiculed. But Carmy surprises you—pleasantly—by not freaking out at all. He nods and asks a couple of basic questions: "How old is she? Who's looking after her when you two are together? What's her favorite Disney movie?"

Carmy does freak out—once he's at home. He barely sleeps that night, thinking of all the ways the "wrong" in him or with him could rub off on the little girl once they meet. Because he's a messed-up grown-up who has no clue how to behave.

You can't keep putting off Carmen meeting your daughter after four months of dating. You can't, and you don't want to. It takes a bit of effort before Carmen opens up about his difficult childhood and messed-up family. You assure him that it's not going to affect your daughter and promise him that you absolutely believe he's a good person.

Your little one is almost four, and she's independent, sassy, and loving, so she probably understands Carmy's hesitation and worries better than you do—without Carmen ever needing to say a word. She knows he's a chef—a cook—so she takes his hand and shows him her own wooden kids' kitchen. Carmy's eyes are huge and glassy when he looks up at you, and you hold back your own tears.

The first time you witness Carmy and your daughter cooking together (not in the kids' kitchen), your heart almost stops. You know how sacred the kitchen—any kitchen—is for him, as well as the whole process of meal prepping. They're just baking cookies, from what you can see over Carmy's broad back, flour everywhere, and he uses the softest voice on her: "You make a ball from the dough, that's right. Well done, chef," and "You got it, darling," and "Good job, good girl," followed by a high-five, your daughter giggling, clearly proud of herself.

That night, you ask Carmy to stay - the first time while your daugher is at home too - and he agrees, with a soft smile and a chaste kiss to your temple. You're a bit apprehensive about having sex, anxious about your little one overhearing something or waking up in the middle of it, but at the end it's you who asks Carmen for it. You beg him with your eyes, your hands and mouth, and who's he to say 'no'? The day had been emotional and the remaints of it hang between you as he fucks you on your back, staring into your soul, reaching there with his cock too. You're kinda trying to hurry up, Carmy thrusting into you with sharp movements that make you gasp out puffs of air between the two of you. He leans in to whisper into your ear "You're taking it so well, you would take my load so well, would you want another baby, hm?" His words surprise you and make you so hot that you come with a startle the next second.

Fuck, Carmy Berzzato wants a kid with you?

[marieracingteam]

If you do request. I have a idea of lance stroll stepping up to be a father of Esteban kid. Esteban doesn't know he has a kid. After reading Lance stepping up to be a father.

Lancey and the word mine – ls.18

stepdad!Lance Stroll | series

word count: 1630

summary: Being away from home is hard for Lance. Esteban, however, is determined to do everything he can to distract his friend from thinking about how much he misses his girlfriend and his little girl, luckily for him, his plan also benefits him a lot.

Lance thought he was still dreaming when he woke up to the cries of a baby. 

Lily rarely cried anymore. She had been through a rough patch when her baby teeth started to fall out and it was common for her to wake them up crying when she couldn't sleep in fear of waking up without teeth. However, the little girl had grown out of that fear and now, luckily, it had been a long time since Lance had last heard the little girl cry.

In any case, that cry wasn't Lily's. Lance could recognise his girl's cry in a million and that, without a doubt, was the cry of another baby, one much smaller than Lily was anyway.

Still disoriented from sleep, Lance sat up in bed trying to find where the crying was coming from. That floor of the hotel was filled with his crew and none of them had hidden a baby in the room, as far as he knew. So where was that noise coming from?

Luckily, Lance didn't have to wonder for long before someone knocked on his door.

On the other side, the driver found his friend Esteban. And the culprit of his crying? The baby in his arms.

“What…?” before Lance could ask anything, Esteban was barging in his hotel room and closing the door behind him.

That baby’s wails becoming even louder in the close space.

“He is sick! I guess? I don’t know what is wrong with him!” Esteban exclaimed handing the baby to his friend.

“Who is this?” asked Lance grabbing the baby.

He couldn't have been more than three years old, despite being tall. Lance hadn't met Lily at that age, but he had memorized enough of all the photos her mother had to recognize the details.

The boy's cheeks were very red and wet from the tears that kept falling. Lance didn't even have to touch his forehead to know that the boy probably had a fever.

“Is that your...?” he tried to confirm.

“I don't know! I guess. His mother left him with me last week, she says he's my son and that I have to take care of him. I'm on the verge of losing my mind, man.” Esteban was pacing the room while covering his ears with his hands.

Lance knew that feeling of desperation when the cries of a child entered your eardrum after a few hours of non-stop wails.

“Ok, don’t panic. He just has a fever. Did he had a runny nose or complained about his ears?” Lance asked checking the baby, who continued his cries.

“I don’t know! I don’t know mate! His mother was at my door after the last Grand Prix, she said she'd come back for him when she was ready. I don't know what to do. I haven’t told anyone else. But I need your help, Lance. He's been eating mashed potatoes, vegetables, or fruit for a week now. And he's got teeth! And now he is sick! Is it because of the flight? They said he is not too young to fly!” Esteban continued rambling for some time.

In the meanwhile, Lance sat down to rock the boy, gently speaking to him in a calming voice. His ear was red and he kept grabbing it, so Lance guessed there was the problem.

Lily also had an ear infection recently after summer vacation. She had been inconsolable and writhing in pain until the children's medicine kicked in. Lance didn't want to even think about the pain the boy had to be going through without treatment.

“Just an ear infection, Esteban. It's okay. Let me get dressed and we'll take him to the ER. He'll be fine soon when he takes something for the pain,” Lance said. And maybe he lied a little when he assured him that everything would pass quickly, but he knew that was what his friend needed to hear. “But you need to call his mother and yours. Probably your lawyer too” he interjected.

“This is too much, man. Too much. I'm not ready to be a father.” Esteban cried. “And what I am going to say to the doctor? I just know is name is Bruno!”

“Ok, relax. Why don’t we call your team’s doctor? They can help you. And you need to tell them anyway. Or what are you going to do with him tomorrow during press? Or while in the car?” Lance questioned while getting dress, the boy still in his arms.

“They are going to fire me!”

“They are goint to fire you anyway if you crash with Pierre one more time! Who cares? Right now you need to think about your son!” Lance exclaimed, making the boy cry harder.

“I don’t even know if he is my son!” Esteban shouted.

“Well, maybe you should start there! Esteban, I know you are terrified right now but you need to put him first while you decide what you are going to do! You need to call your team, first the doctor and next the lawyer.” 

While they waited for the team to arrive at Lance’s room, he couldn’t help but think about how he himself became a father. Unlinke Esteban, he couldn’t point the exact moment he realise he had someone under his care. He had not found Lily one day at his door, instead, Lily had found him one night at her door.

He had never had to make that decision to love and protect her. He had never had to wonder if she was his or not. That had never mattered to him. But he understood why it did matter to Esteban. He understood why he felt the world shif under him and how scary that could be. Lance had been ready for that change but he could blame Esteban if he wasn’t. 

“That was his mother…” Esteban said after he left the room to take a call “She is coming for him”

“What did she said?”

“I texter her to tell her he was sick. She said… She said that he is mine… although she freaked out when I told her I was going to do a paternity test. She probably thought that I would get sick of him and not ask any questions as long as she took him back... in exchange for a good sum of money, obviously. She's on her way and won't bother me again if I don't call the authorities.”

“That's fucked up, man. What kind of mother abandons her son for money without knowing if he's okay? He's just a kid and she's only known you a few nights before he was even bron…” Lance whispered, careful not to wake the little boy that had finally fallen asleep.

“Well yes, but it's not my problem,” Esteban answered, plopping down on the couch in the hotel room. Suddenly much more relaxed and rejuvenated.

“He may not be your son, but it's not right!” 

"So what do you want me to do, Lance? I don’t it is fucked up but it is what it is. I know this all may seem easy for you, man, but you just help raise your girl’s baby, that’s not the same of having a baby or raising one on your own”

Lance knew Esteban was on edge, he knew. Lance knew Esteban was stress and scared, he knew he need to be gentle and understanding with him… but how could Lance be fair when he was the one being questioned about his parenting?

“Why not? Why it is not the same?” 

“Because she is not yours! I know you love her, you know I like her too! But it's not the same as her being your responsibility” Esteban tried to explain.

And Lance did his best not to scream in his face. Esteban was his friend, a good one. He was just stressed and going through some deep issues. But those words were so untrue that it made him see red.

Since when was he entitled to speak about being a father? He had certainly not wanted to be one half an hour ago! Why did no one seem to understand that Lance wanted to be a father to a child who might not be of his own blood, but was so understanding when another man put his lifestyle before raising a child that was his!?

“Lily is mine, Esteban” he said and he realized in that moment that there wasn’t an inch of doubt in him. “She is my baby girl, my responsibility, my duty and my pleasure to care for. When you have a kid for real you would understand. Blood doesn't mean shit when you look at their face and you just know”.

At that, Esteban just nodded even if he didn't quite understand. But it was fine, Lance accepted while caressing Bruno's back when he whimpered. One day Esteban would tell him he was right. Lance himself wouldn't have understood it either before meeting his girls. Life is just crazy like that, taking you to where you belong without expecting it.

And Lance couldn’t be happier with where life had taken him. He just couldn't wait to go back home. To his girls. And he just hoped maybe some day Esteban found something like that too. Bruno too.

Because if there was one thing he would never have doubted, it was that Lily deserved to be loved unconditionally by all the people in her life, her parents above all. Her father hadn't been up to the task, but he would be. Bruno also deserved a family that loved him that way and Lance was not going to let that child go with someone who was not willing to do everything possible to deserve him.

I went a little different with this one, hope you like it!

[realitidoll]

Pretty little angel.

Stepdad!John Wick

TW: stepcest, smut, dark themes.

 

“Shh, pretty baby. Your mom’s sleeping, we wouldn’t want to wake her up, would we?” John lowly whispers in your ears as he thrusts aggressively in and out of your pretty, sensitive cunny. You shake your head no as you desperately try to fight back tears. You can’t stop yourself from letting a few whines and whimpers escape your lips. 

John isn’t someone who talks a lot, but when it comes to sex with you? He talks you through it, throws a few praises here and there. Sometimes he enjoys degrading you just to see tears forming in your pretty eyes. “You’re such a naughty slut, but it’s okay. You’re still my pretty angel.”

Before your mom brought your new stepdad home, you were her innocent little angel. A few weeks after meeting John for the first time, you would often find yourself grinding against the plushies he gifted you in the middle of the night. Of course, you were too old for these kind of toys, but it didn’t stop you from enjoying them. You were full of sin; greed, lust… but could anyone really blame you? 

You can’t really remember how it happened, but one night you just found yourself lying naked under him, his huge cock stuffed deep inside you, tears falling from your eyes because your tight virgin cunt couldn’t handle that kind of size. Since that night, it has become an usual occurrence between you and your lovely stepdad to play naked under the covers whenever your mom wasn’t home. 

“P-please be gentle… it hurts!” You managed to say in-between moans and cries. You knew John had heard you, he just kept harshly pounding you. In fact, his grip on your thighs tightened when you asked him to be gentle. You were sure you’d find a few bruises there in the morning, but of course you wouldn’t mind. Bruises were a constant reminder of who you belonged to.You love the pain he causes from fucking you hard into oblivion. You beg him to slow down, to be gentle, but in reality, you just love it. It hurts so good. 

His big hands leave your thighs and he leans over you, hands now holding him up. John gently places his lips on yours to shut you up, his pace not slowing down. “What would your sweet, naive mom think of her pure, innocent little angel if she saw you like this?” He taunts. You couldn’t help but clench around his cock upon hearing those words. Everyone still thinks you’re an innocent, pure girl. Everyone, but John. 

“J-john… I’m going to-“ not even able to finish your sentence, your tight cunt clenches harder on his cock and you feel that familiar knot in your stomach. His thrusts get sloppy and faster.“I know, baby. Me too.” He says as he kisses your neck. You both feel your release come at the same time. He doesn’t instantly pull out which makes you feel a tiny bit overstimulated. Finally, you feel empty as he pulls out. Panting can be heard coming from the two of you. John looks down at your cunny and smirks as he watches his semen and your fluids drip down your thighs. 

“Goodnight, pretty girl.” He whispers as he kisses your forehead. He hands you a little plushie he got you a while back, and you snuggle against it. You hate when he leaves at night, but you know your mom would freak out if she walked in your room and saw you two lying naked in bed. Half asleep, you find the strength to mutter a slight goodnight back to him as he leaves the room. 

[afictionaladventure16]

Could you do meeting stepdad! Pedro for the first time? Please and thank you!😭💗

To Build a Home (Pedro Pascal x Teen!Reader)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

A/N: I feel like this one was too short but I've been having writers block and this is the best I could do! I hope you enjoy it!! <3

Word Count: 2,880

Summary: Your mother decides it is time for you to meet her boyfriend of six months, you are defensive at first, but you think you could get used to the idea of having this one around more often.

This is fine. 

Everything about this situation is okay. 

No need to panic. You thought to yourself. Watching your mother frantically cook in the kitchen as if her life depended on it. You have never seen your mother this frantic since the day your grandmother decided to do a surprise visit. 

“Mom?” you quietly said, walking around the counter. 

“Honey, can you grab me some garlic, it should be next to the bananas… bananas… shit! I forgot to make dessert!” She groaned to herself as she handled the hot pan in front of her. 

You sighed, grabbing the garlic and setting it down on the counter beside her, “Mom,” you said a little louder. 

“What, honey?” She quickly gave you a glance before taking notice of the garlic you had placed on the counter. She grabbed it, taking it over to the cutting board. 

“Can you look at me for a moment?” You asked desperately. 

She sighed, putting down everything before turning to give you her full attention. “Si, Cariño?” 

“I don’t know if I want to do this anymore.” You regretted the words as soon as they had left your mother, seeing the reaction on your mother's face. How her eyes watered and her mouth frowned. 

“But, Cariño, you told me you were ready. We had a whole discussion– I don’t understand.” 

You sighed, “I know, I–I think I’m nervous ‘s all.” 

“Nervous? Sweetie, how do you think we feel?” You shrugged, “Pedro has been messaging me all week about how he wants to cancel because he’s nervous.” She sighed, “Honey, you’re not the only one that is feeling this way.” 

“So, we should cancel?” 

She shook her head, “It’s time for you to meet Pedro.” You feared that she would say that. It only meant one thing. One thing you truly feared, she was deeply in love with him. That what they had was something serious and it could lead to them becoming more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. It meant that you would now have to share your mother with someone and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. 

Especially with how the last time ended. You still had nightmares from when your father was around, images in your head that never left. What if Pedro turned out to be just like your father? 

“Okay,” you felt defeated. Your mother was a person who didn’t budge. Once she had made a decision it was final. 

“Now you either help me cook or you get out of my kitchen,” she stated, turning her body to face the counter once more to busy herself with the garlic in front of her. 

For the longest, it had always been you and your mother. Your father had no visitation rights since you were eight, so for the past five years, you and your mother picked up the pieces and started a new life. A better life. 

Your mother focused mainly on work in the filming industry and eventually, she was able to afford a nice house for the two of you. That’s what it was, just the two of you. You never imagined that one day, it could potentially be three of you. That your mother would one day want to find love again. 

“Do you love him?” You hesitantly asked. 

Your mother stopped everything, letting out a deep sigh, “I’m afraid to answer that question,” she admitted. 

You were afraid she would dodge that question, but also you were sad that she had. You had hoped that your mother wouldn’t tip-toe around the subject with you. Maybe she could be honest with you about a topic that wasn’t common in this household. 

“Be honest with me,” you reassured. “Do you love him?” 

“Love is a strong word,” she whispered. 

“And your daughter meeting him is a big step.” 

“Yes,” she admitted. “I do love him.” 

You gave her a small nod, “Then that’s enough for me.” 

She gave you a smile before walking around the counter to pull you in for a hug, “Thank you.” 

“But this doesn’t mean that I’m not going to give him a hard time, I still don’t trust the man.” You grabbed one of the potatoes that were on the counter, grabbed the peeler, and made your way over to the trash can. “Don’t expect me to call him dad,” you said jokingly, referencing to the movie Stepbrothers. 

Your mother giggled, “I don’t expect that at all from you, amor,” she smiled. 

The hour quickly passed, and you anxiously sat on the couch, your eyes not peeling away from the clock on the wall. Your foot bounced against the wooden floors, creating a gentle but persistent thud. The sound echoed throughout the room and for a moment you were glad your mother was busy in the kitchen, distracting herself with the neatness of the dining room and kitchen and if she had enough time to whip up something quick for dessert. You could hear her muttering to herself about whether Pedro would enjoy a bar of chocolate for dessert or if that was stupid. 

It was any second that Pedro would walk through those doors and your life would change for either the worst or the best. You didn’t know which and you were afraid to find out. 

“Sweetie, are you going to wear that?” Your mom asked as she walked into the living room.

You looked down to see what you were wearing, it was what you had worn to school, a plain tee, flannel, and some jeans. It was casual wear for you, “Um, yes?” She raised her eyebrows, “would you like for me to change?” 

She sighed, “Would it be fucked up for me to say yes?” 

“Kind of, I mean, if he really liked me he wouldn’t care what I wore right? But, on the other hand, I can change to make you feel less anxious.” 

Your mother stood there for a second, thinking about what you had just said. Giving you a small nod, “Don’t change,” she stated. 

You smiled, knowing you had won, “Alright.” 

Your mother's head whipped towards the door at the sound of the doorbell, “Oh my god, that’s him.” She let out a deep breath before looking over at you, “is it too late to cancel?” 

“Hey, I tried earlier but you said it was too late.” 

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, “What the fuck am I doing? I mean, are we even ready for something like this?” 

You sighed, getting up from the couch, “Ama, I think you’ve been ready for a while, you’ve just been scared, but I’m no longer a little girl, Mom. You deserve happiness.” 

She gave you a soft smile, placing a hand on your cheek, “Cuando creciste?” (When did you grow up)

“Cuando no estabas mirando,” you smiled. (When you weren’t looking) 

“Alright, let’s do this,” she whispered. You trailed behind her as she walked towards the door. You stood back, watching as your mother opened the door. She deserved happiness, no matter what. Even at the cost of yours. She deserved it. 

After everything she had been through to protect you, it was the least you could give her. You saw the way she had been these past few months, the after-dates smile, and how she grinned from ear to ear the day after. He made her happy and it scared you, but you couldn’t tell your mother that. You couldn’t ruin it because somehow seeing her so happy made you happy, even if you were weary about the man who was causing it. 

Your mother's voice was muffled as she greeted Pedro on the other side of the door. Meeting him meant a lot of things, it meant that it was no longer the two of you on adventures, that he would more than likely tag along. It meant that eventually, you would have to get used to your mom always being with him. He could be here for breakfast some days and you know what that meant. He could be here for dinners on other days and it also meant expressing boundaries. 

She deserved this happiness. 

“Y/N,” your mother called for you as she stepped aside to let Pedro in. There he was, with a nervous smile playing on his lips and a bouquet of flowers in his hands that you knew was for your mother. “I’d like for you to meet my daughter, Pedro.” 

He let out a nervous laugh, “It’s so nice to finally meet you, your mother speaks so much about you.” He held out his free hand for you to shake, and you gently shook his hand. 

“Nice to meet you too,” you gave him a hesitant smile. 

“Oh! I got you these, your mother said you loved sunflowers and well,” he nervously chuckled, “I hope you like ‘em.” 

You gave him a surprised look, glancing at your mom who grinned from ear to ear, “For me?” He gave you a nod, “T–thank you, I–I don’t know what to say!” Pedro handed you the bouquet that was beautifully displayed sunflowers with a few purple flowers here and there and baby’s breath surrounding them. “They’re beautiful, thank you, Pedro!” 

Pedro grinned from ear to ear, he relaxed a little. He had been nervous all day about handing you the flowers, afraid that you’d reject them. Maybe this dinner wouldn’t be so bad and maybe he could bond with you after all. He knew some things about you from what your mother had said, but it was only some things. He did know the struggles you and your mother had gone through, knowing very well that this transition wasn’t going to be easy for you. Pedro is determined to try his best to get you to trust him because all he wants is to be a positive influence in your life, it was the way he was. His heart broke to hear what you had been through at such a young age and he wished there was something he could do. Something he could do for you and your mother. 

“Well, dinner is ready,” your mother states, “let me show you to the dining room.” 

“I-I’m gonna put these away,” you say as you walk towards the kitchen. You set the flowers on the counter, staring at them for a second. This was the first time anyone had gotten you flowers. Your first time getting flowers were supposed to be meaningful. A moment you’d remember forever and for a second you were afraid he had just ruined that. For just a second and it was gone, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the bouquet. “Don’t,” you whispered to yourself. The sound of your mother's laughter coming from the other room. This all felt too good, it would all soon come tumbling down and you knew that, but you did not know if you could handle it. 

You took in a deep breath before joining your mother and Pedro in the dining room. You sat across from Pedro at the table, “smells good,” you commented as you began piling food on your plate. 

“Thanks, mija,” your mom smiled. 

“So, Y/N, your mother tells me you are in the drama club at school?” You gave him a nod. 

“She’s thinking about starting auditions for actual films soon, right, mija?” 

You shrugged, “It’s still a big maybe.” 

“For film? I mean, it doesn’t hurt to try.” 

“Maybe Pedro could give you some pointers,” your mother suggested. 

You cleared your throat, “So, how many siblings do you have?” 

“Y/N,” your mother warned. 

Pedro chuckled, “It’s okay, Yesenia.” For a moment you forgot your mother had a first name, you were so used to just calling her mom. “I have three siblings.” 

“Pedro, you don’t have to answer her questions, she does thi-” 

“How many sisters and how many brothers?” You asked. 

“Two sisters, one brother.” 

You nod, “Please stop interrogating him,” your mother pleaded. 

You gave her a small glare before looking over at Pedro, “Where are you from?” 

“Chile,” Pedro smiled. He found this amusing and cute. You were protective over your mother and he loved that you were. “Next question?” 

“When did you move here?” 

“That’s a long story.” 

“I have all night, it’s a weekend.” 

“Y/N,” your mother warned. 

Pedro chuckled, “It’s okay.” He looked back over at you, “Long story short, my family moved here when I was very little but we had to go back when I was a little older when I was old enough I moved back on my own to pursue acting.” He gave you the cliff notes of his life, leaving out the personal details that were still hard for him to talk about, but enough to keep you satisfied. Your mother gave Pedro a sincere smile and he smiled back. She knew the longer version of the story and she was grateful he was answering your questions to his best ability. “Next question?” he asked. 

“Do you want more kids?” 

Your mother rolled her eyes, “No,” he chuckled.

“No?” 

“Yes, he said no and I don’t want more kids either, Y/N,” your mother stated.

“Why not?” you directed the question towards Pedro.

“Because of my schedule mostly, but I also never saw myself having kids. I’m already almost fifty and I don’t think it’s fair on the kid to have a parent that old, you know?” 

“Plus, your mother can’t have any more kids and if she could she wouldn’t because childbirth is no joke.” 

You rolled your eyes this time, “Alright, last question.” 

“Hit me with it,” Pedro stated. 

“What are your intentions with my mother?” 

“Y/N!” your mother warned.

Pedro chuckled, “I love your mother and I love spending time with her and right now I would like to get to know you because I know you mean the world to her. I know you both have…” Pedro hesitated, “I don’t intend on hurting your mother in any way. I see myself spending a lot more time with her and hopefully, one day, growing old with her.” 

You watched as his eyes never left your mother, the way they idolized her as if she were the only thing that mattered. He really loved her and you could see it in him, but could you trust him? You didn’t know. It was hard to know. You barely had any trust, to begin with. 

You remained quiet the rest of the dinner, listening to the two of them laugh as they joked around and told stories about some of their dates or their time together on set. He was an actor, he’d be on the road a lot and your mother knew that yet she was okay with it. She was okay with everything about him. 

Your mother got up to answer a phone call, leaving the two of you alone. 

You pushed your food around with your fork, “You okay?” 

You glanced up at Pedro, his eyes showing concern, how you hated that they did that. “Yeah.” 

He sighed, placing his fork down, “You don’t have to like me.” 

“You got me flowers,” you whispered. 

“Your mother kept mentioning how you loved sunflowers, and it felt like the right thing to do.” 

“No one has ever gotten me flowers,” you stated. 

Pedro sighed, “I’m sorry if I stepped over the line or–” 

“No, you didn’t… just taken back ‘s all.” 

He gave you a small nod, “Do you like them?” 

“Love them,” you corrected. Giving him a small smile, he smiled back. “I just… I always kind of dreamt that my dad would be the first person to get me flowers, you know?” 

He nodded, “I’m sorry, I probably should’ve–” 

“It’s okay,” you reassured. 

He sighed, “I’m not him, you know.” You stayed quiet. “I know, you don’t trust me because of him, but I am not him and I’m willing to give you all the time you need in order for you to allow me in your life. I love your mother, Y/N and I hope that if you get to know me and I get to know you… we could develop a sort of bond… would that be okay?” 

There was a little voice inside your head that was screaming yes, she was shouting it so loud that it gave you a headache. Yet, your mouth never moved, seconds passed and you sat there wondering if it would be okay. The little voice argued with the bigger one. One was more naive than the other and one was more hurt than the other. 

Your mother stepped back into the dining room, “I was thinking while on the call, maybe the two of you should hang out together sometime soon? Without me there, get to know each other you know?” 

Pedro smiled, “Sounds good to me, what do you think, Y/N?”

You shrugged before giving your mother a nod. 

She clapped in excitement, “I’ll plan it out for you guys! It’ll be great!” Would that be okay? His voice trailed inside yours for the remainder of the dinner. You wanted it to be okay, but you couldn’t give him an answer, not just yet anyway.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01  @tracysnook  @cilliansangel  @change-the-world-someday  @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @white-wolf-buckaroo @steadydragongalaxy @rooting4theantihero @soupinasock @Ilovehotdadsandshit @dzaga890 @marantha @emmasauger @marysucks-blog @pcotato @scrappybear89 @dlwrish @what-ever-man213 @boiohboii @drowning-in-paragraphs @stoneredsworld @xmurph7 @sleepylunarwolf @glossy01 @aot-task141-lover @uwiuwi

[atopvisenyashill]

There's this weird thing going on Reddit right now where people are claiming that legally, Rhaenyra children are not bastards. And I was wondering if you agree or disagree. I think that people are just making up their own canon lore at this point.

Well. Okay I think I’m about to give an answer that is a little spicy but when I get around to my ultimate point I think everyone is going to go "yeah it makes sense that's how you feel, that tracks." Let me start with a personal story to be extra annoying-

My mom, after separating from my dad, swore of marriage. Marriage derailed her life, it had derailed my grandma's life, so she decided that even if she truly fell in love again, she would stay unmarried because clearly marriage jinxes love. She met my stepdad and as he had been divorced three times (and bitterly each time too) he agreed. He proposed to her but it was really just a commitment thing - I promise I am all in on this relationship, and by wearing this ring, you promise too. He moved in. They had one of my siblings, K, and still remained unmarried despite pushback from a few relatives and friends.

And then my stepdad needed knee surgery. And my mom couldn't put a domestic partner on her insurance. So a week before my second sibling, B, was born, after my aunt finished teaching summer school for the day, on what was a random Thursday afternoon, we all put on some nice clothes, piled into the van, and went down to city hall where they got hitched and I cried while everyone made fun of me because their toddler was literally running around the waiting room, it was not a big deal! My parents were both wearing jeans!!! We went to Baker's Square after, not even a nice restaurant! Do you know how this marriage has affected K and B? Not even a little! Do you know why?

BECAUSE NONE OF THIS MATTERS.

There is no moral or biological difference between a child born in wedlock and a child born outside of it. If you put K and B's blood under a microscope and I didn't tell you the ages would you be able to tell the difference between them? Would you be able to figure out which one of my siblings is a bastard and which one is trueborn? No, you would not because the difference doesn't exist biologically, ontologicaly, ecologically, anthropologically, whatever ology you want to bring up, and I think what this fandom finds most frustrating is that there is also no legal difference because LAWS ARE MADE UP. THEY DONT FUCKING MATTER. THEY ARE MAN MADE. I need this fandom to kill the prosecutor that lives in their head and stop arguing over whether Rhaenyra’s oldest boys are ~really~ bastards or not. The “truth” of this is just as it is for my family - it’s completely emotional, situational, and dependent on the feelings of the people involved in it!

Alicent & Otto & Criston, in both the books and the show, have an ulterior motive to insist that legally Rhaenyra’s boys are bastards. They can talk about propriety and legality all they want, but not only were those boys raised and loved by Laenor & Corlys, the concepts of marriage & wedlock & legitimacy are merely tools used to keep people in their place, something those three are very aware of because Otto manipulates the law in order to cut Daemon out of the line of succession which is exactly what kicks off this conflict in the first place! Corlys & Laenor & Rhaenyra have completely different but still existent ulterior motives to insist that legally the boys are true born. They can talk about “well technically” and cite whatever law or precedent they want but again, this same insistence on their legitimacy is a cover for the fact that if they ARE admitted to be not Laenor’s, they all lose access to power.

Not only that, but both Rhaenyra and Alicent become insistent on these competing legalities because they are worried the other will kill their children. Alicent all but confirms that she would have killed them if Rhaenyra had accepted terms with her nasty comment about their deaths when Rhaenyra takes the capital, but Rhaenyra throws her own insistence that she won’t hurt her siblings out the window with b&c.

So yeah, people are making up their own canon lore here because both Otto and Rhaenyra are ALSO making up their own canon lore here. That’s the entire point. Both of these sides have their own agendas, their own very rational fear of the other, and instead of realizing they have to compromise just a bit to get out of the shitshow they’ve found themselves in, they escalate at every turn until they’re all dead and so are their dragons.

The point is - I think everyone is missing here that George is making fun of you nerds who spent all your time insisting they’re bastards or not and debating the legality ad nauseum. He has Stannis ranting about the sanctity of the line of succession and House Baratheon and everyone misses that Stannis is a fucking loser for this because the line started one generation ago and if he didn't want Robert overthrown by Cersei maybe he should have made sure Robert wasn't raping and beating her all the time!! It is the same exact thing here!! If they didn't want Rhaenyra to have bastards, they shouldn't have jerked her around as heir for years then trapped her in a marriage she resented to fix their stupid ass mistakes and if they didn't want the whole thing to escalate into a bloody war, they shouldn't have murdered Luke and Jaehaerys!! That simple!!!!

LEGITIMACY AND MARRIAGE ARE NOT REAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"that's christmas to me" cygnet scholar fanfic for @all-fandoms-christmas-festival

summary: when gideon tells hope he got her a very special christmas present this year, she obsesses over what it might be a/n: for those wondering, this fic is standalone from my other cygnet scholar fics, but it does contain references to some of them! also, since you already have to rejigger the timeline just to make cygnet scholar work, i figured i may as well canonize my other favorite rarepair too. i don't go into much detail about it in the fic, but this is set in an au where rumple dies so that gideon can come back as a baby at the end of season 6, and sometime several years later belle remarries and august becomes gideon's stepdad. taglist: @accidental-spice @kanerallels @ouatnextgen @booksteaandtoomuchtv [let me know if you'd like to be added to or removed from the cygnet scholar taglist!] also on ao3!

That's Christmas To Me

 "So, what do you think your parents got you this year?"

 Gideon looked up from his textbook and raised an eyebrow at the girl across the living room floor.

 "Is this a genuine question, or just an attempt to distract yourself from the algebra homework?"

 "Can't it be both?" Hope asked.

 Gideon rolled his eyes. "You know my parents."

 "So I'm guessing more books than you can carry," Hope said, "and another hand-carved ornament for the tree?"

 "Bingo," Gideon nodded, "and it's only fair, since mom's getting a book from me, and my stepdad's getting a new roll of typewriter ink."

 "That sounds horribly practical," Hope laughed.

 "Oh yeah?" Gideon asked, "what did you get your parents?"

 "Come on, Gid," Hope said, "it's a week before Christmas. Do you really think I already did my Christmas shopping?"

 "It's four days until Christmas," Gideon said, "and unless you plan on shopping on Christmas Eve, that's only three shopping days, counting today."

 "I'll think of something," Hope shrugged.

 Gideon shook his head and rolled his eyes, then fixed them steadily on her for half a second, watching the glow of the fireplace illuminate her carefree smile. What would've sent him into a tizzy of a panic attack rolled off her shoulders like it was nothing.

 "How's studying going?"

 Gideon turned to see Hope's mom behind him with a tray in her hands.

 "It'd be better if someone didn't keep getting distracted," Gideon said.

 "Yeah, Gid, what's wrong with you;" Hope mockingly deflected, "we gotta focus!"

 "Oh, sorry, my bad," Gideon joked in return.

 "Maybe some cookies and cocoa will help," her mom said. She set down a tray of sugar cookies and two festive mugs of steaming hot chocolate.

 "Thanks, Mrs. Swan," Gideon said.

 "You're welcome, kid," Emma said, then looked to her daughter, "and, Hope? Stop distracting the poor boy and let him study, okay?"

 "Yes ma'am," Hope sighed and mockingly saluted.

 As her mom left, Gideon picked up one of the mugs set before them, one with a somewhat ridiculous-looking festive moose on it, which he'd mentioned once or twice was his favorite of her family's odd assortment of Christmas mugs. He took a sip and sighed with contentment.

 "What's your mom's secret to such perfect hot chocolate, anyways?"

 "Cinnamon," Hope smiled, as she reached for a present-shaped cookie, overflowing with frosting and decked out in red and green sprinkles.

 "Fabulous," Gideon said.

 They both returned to their work, but only for a few minutes, before Gideon spoke up again. 

"Have you even started Christmas shopping yet?"

 "Now who's distracting who?" Hope asked. "But, of course not. Why, have you finished already?"

 "Yup," he smiled, and after a pause he added, "I even got a special gift for a certain friend of mine this year." He then took another sip of cocoa in hopes that his expression wouldn't give away his surprise.

 "Which friend?" Hope asked.

 "A certain girl in my algebra class," he smiled behind his cocoa mug.

 "Which girl?" Hope's eyes narrowed. 

 "A longtime friend," he said, "a girl who owns an armload of friendship bracelets, and whose mom makes hot chocolate with cinnamon in it, and who I'll be seeing at dinner on Christmas Eve." He took another sip of cocoa, but he didn't get much chance to enjoy it.

 "Charlotte?" Hope asked, her tone a not-so delicate balance of confused and offended, "you got a 'special Christmas gift' for my best friend Charlotte? My aunt Charlotte?"

 In an involuntary response to her startling misunderstanding of his hints, he quickly spewed his sip of cocoa out of his mouth, hoping most of it ended up in the mug, and later hoping her dad wouldn't ask where these brown stains on the living room rug came from.

 "What, no!" Gideon said, stumbling to regain himself, "Hope, I got a special Christmas gift for you."

 "You did?" Hope asked, her mood instantly changed, the usual sparkle returning to her crystal blue eyes, "what did you get me?"

 "Now," Gideon said, "would it really be much of a special gift if it wasn't a surprise?"

 "I can still act surprised," she said, with a hint of a frown and large, blinking eyes which he almost gave into.

 "Sorry," he said, quickly looking back down at his algebra textbook, "you'll have to wait until Christmas Eve."

 "This is cruel and unusual punishment," Hope grumbled.

 "Yup," Gideon smiled.

 "You do know this is gonna make it even harder for me to study now," Hope said.

 "Yup."

 "And I'll never get this homework done if I'm distracted."

 "Yup."

 "And then I'm gonna fail algebra."

 "Yup."

 "And then I'm gonna get held back a year."

 "Yup."

 "And then we won't be in the same class anymore." 

 "Yup."

 "And then you're gonna have to find a new special girl in next year's algebra class to give a special Christmas gift to."

 "Yup."

 "Gideon!"

 He knew he'd carried that bit a bit too far when Hope called him "Gideon" instead of "Gid."

 "Would you like some help with your homework, Hope?"

 "I'd like to know what a certain special boy got me for Christmas."

 "Can't help with that," Gideon said, hoping she couldn't tell his face was red as a Christmas bow at how she'd just called him "special" without meaning it as an insult.

 "Why'd you even go and tell me if it's supposed to be a surprise anyway?" Hope said. "Taking a new form of torture for a test drive?"

 "I have my reasons," he said.

 The reasons, of course, were that he'd never given her a gift before, and if she didn't know he was giving her a gift, she'd have no time to pick out a gift for him. He didn't necessarily need a gift from her, or expect one, but it occurred to him that she might feel bad if he gave her a gift and she came empty-handed, so it was only fair to give her warning.

 And also, a part of him enjoyed watching her obsess over it. It wasn't that he wanted to torment her or stress her out for once in her life, of course, but her attempts to goad the answer out of him were, as predicted, delightful and charming.

 "Now," he continued, "would you like some help with the homework?"

 "Only if you tell me what you got me."

 "Fine," Gideon said, "looks like you'll fail this class and I'll have to give a special gift to some other girl from my math class next year."

 "Alright," Hope said, with an exaggerated eye roll, "I guess if it's the only way."

 They both slid a little closer to each other so he could see her textbook, and then Hope slid closer still.

 As she started explaining how the answer she got was twenty-seven point five percent while the correct answer was two, Gideon glanced behind her at the mountain of gifts under her family's tree. Given that she hadn't begun to shop for her parents, and her brother was still off writing his own adventures, he had a hunch that most of those presents were for her. With all those gifts awaiting her, he suddenly felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if his gift didn't live up to her hype? What if it got metaphorically lost in the sea of brightly colored packages that awaited her the morning after? What could one gift, no matter how "special," really mean in comparison to all that?

 He shifted his attention away from the assortment of red and green parcels across the room and the little parcel under his own tree back home, putting them all out of his mind so he could instead focus on how to explain to Hope that in no world could x equal four-hundred and ninety if x minus fifteen equaled twenty-five.

🤍💙🤎🩵🖤

 "It's horrible, Charlotte," Hope complained as she waited in the lunch line.

 "What, that algebra pop quiz?" Charlotte asked, "or Merry Mystery Meat Friday?"

 "Neither," Hope said, "Gideon. He's been absolutely tormenting me."

 "Oh, right," Charlotte said, as the lunch lady poured some gloop on her plate, "it's absolute torture that you're getting an extra Christmas present this year."

 "You don't understand," Hope said, wincing at the smell of the food on her tray, "at first, I kept asking what it was to be dramatic."

 "And you're not being dramatic now?"

 "No, no, I still am," Hope said, "but now I'm being dramatic with purpose. I can't just let him give me a special gift without giving him anything in return."

 "So buy him something?" Charlotte suggested. "You haven't started your Christmas shopping yet anyways."

 "Yes, but what do I get him, Char?" Hope asked as they made their way to their usual table. "What if I show up with a gently used toaster and find out he got me a gently used convertible? Or I get him a PS5 and he got me a pencil sharpener?"

 "Those are vastly overexaggerated scenarios," Charlotte said, then sighed, "but I get the sentiment. Did you tell him that's why you want to know?"

 "That would ruin the surprise."

 "Well, have you tried asking around?" "Syd doesn't even know this one," Hope said, "and if she hasn't heard about it, no one has."

 Before they could continue the conversation, Gideon took a seat next to Hope.

 "So glad to see you're both present, right now," he said, "it sure is special to share such a moment with you guys."

 Hope tried to ignore him in an attempt to hide her frustration.

 Gideon looked at the girls' lunch trays and smiled.

 "What's that?" Gideon asked, "hamburger surprise? Mystery meat?" He pulled a paper bag out of his backpack and continued, "it sure is a gift to have a mom who packs you your own special lunch every day. It's almost like a Christmas present you don't have to wait for."

 "You're a real jerk sometimes," Hope said, "you know that, right?"

 "It's an inherited trait, I'm told." Gideon said, pulling a sandwich out of his bag. 'Some might call it a gift."

 "And if you don't stop it soon," Hope said, "there'll be a special surprise in it for you," and she scooped up a big spoonful of the gloop in front of her and brought it closer to Gideon, "mystery meat on rye, perhaps?"

 "While putting the school's excuse for 'food' on my sandwich is a truly terrifying threat," Gideon said, holding his sandwich away at arms' length until Hope put down her spoon, "that's not much of a special surprise if you tell me about it first."

 "Speaking of 'not much of a special surprise because you tell me about it first,'" Hope changed tactics, leaning toward him with a doe-eyed expression she'd kept on reserve for just such an occasion, "it sure would be nice if a certain boy told me what he got a certain girl for Christmas."

 "I already told you," Gideon said, "I got my mom a book."

 Her doe eyes were wasted on Gideon, who smugly took a bite of his sandwich.

 "I give up," Hope said.

 "Good," Gideon said, "because I'm not telling."

 "Fine," Hope said, then mumbled under her breath, "hope you like your toaster."

 "What?"

 "Nothing."

 "Anyways," Gideon said, "did you guys want to meet up to work on homework later?"

 "I'm busy," Charlotte said, which didn't come as a surprise. She'd been too busy to do homework with them a lot recently.

 "I've got Christmas shopping to do this afternoon," Hope said.

 "Oh, starting early, are we?" Gideon asked.

 "I'll have to start early if I've got an extra gift to get this year," Hope said.

 "An extra gift for whom?"

 "No one special," she quickly recovered.

 "Well," he said, "maybe we could do homework afterwards?"

 "Sure, but not at my house." Hope said. "Mom and dad are working, so I can't have friends over."

 This was true, but it was also an excuse. If they studied at his house, she might have the chance to do a little snooping and figure out what this mystery gift was.

 "I told my mom I'd help her at the library this afternoon," Gideon said, "maybe we could study there?"

 Dang it.

 "Sounds great," Hope lied.

🤍💙🤎🩵🖤

 "You know the real reason we met at the library?" Gideon asked as they sat down in a side room of the library. 

 "Because you know if we're at your house I'll try to sneak a peek at my Christmas present?"

 "You know, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind," Gideon smiled, "but I also thought the library would help minimize distractions."

 "Oh, sure," Hope said.

 His plan was secretly foiled, though, by Hope's own mind. She brought plenty of distractions with her. Not only did she have the usual to distract herself with, she had plenty of other things to think about, like "what could he have gotten me?" and "I hope what I got him is good enough," and eventually, "why did he even get me a special gift this year anyways?" and on occasion before she could stop herself, "Gideon looks especially nice today." 

 Sure, he didn't look much different than normal. He wore his trademark style of a flannel over a t-shirt with a corny slogan (though in place of a science pun, today's read "MERRY CHRISTMOOSE" over an image of the stupidest moose Hope had ever seen.) Gideon's deep golden hair was parted the same way it always was. His smile was the same and his laugh was the same and his eyes bore the same combination of intelligence and innocence that always made Hope catch her breath when they fixed themselves too hard on her. But today, she noticed it all at once, and it only added to her usual level of distraction.

 They'd hardly been working for half an hour when another distraction came along, this time in the form of Gideon's mother.

 "How's it going in here?" Belle asked, looking over her son's shoulder at the senseless arrangement of letters and numbers and symbols.

 "About as good as always," Hope said.

 "Almost, anyways," Gideon said.

 "Almost?" Belle asked. "Any particular reason why that is?"

 "You know," Gideon said, "now that you mention it, when we study at Hope's house, her mom always has cookies for us."

 "Does she now?"

 "Yes ma'am," Hope said, catching Gideon's drift and quick to help him out, "she says cookies are a sort of brain food. If they weren't, dad wouldn't let us keep them around the house."

 "I see," Belle said, "well, I'm not about to spoil your supper, but how about I bring you guys some hot cocoa instead?"

 "Close enough," Gideon shrugged.

 "I'll be right back," his mom ruffled his hair.

 As a dangerous Christmas miracle, Hope got an idea.

 "Can I help you, Mrs. Booth?" Hope asked.

 "I'd like that very much," Belle said.

 "I can help too," Gideon said, starting to get up himself.

 "We got it, don't worry," Hope quickly got up. She placed a hand on his arm and said, "we'll be right back."

 "Okay," Gideon said, with that calculating look on his face he often got when he was trying to get to the bottom of one of Hope's brilliant ideas.

 But as it stood, he hadn't caught onto this one, because he made no attempt to thwart her time with his mom.

 "I'm glad to see you two getting along so well," Belle said, as she and Hope found themselves waiting for the library's Keurig to heat up. 

 "Yeah?" Hope said, already pleased at how quickly she could shift this conversation to suit her needs. "Does he talk about me much?"

 "A bit," Belle smiled.

 "What kind of stuff does he say?"

 "Well," Belle said, "just a few things here and there. A few things I can't say."

 "Does one of them have to do with a special surprise Christmas present?"

 "Maybe," Belle said, with a wink and a lower tone of secrecy as she loaded a hot chocolate K-cup into the coffee machine.

 "What is it?" Hope whispered.

 "I can't say," Belle responded.

 "Well, you're no help." Hope grumbled.

 "Is there," Belle paused, "a special reason you can't just wait until Sunday night to find out?"

 Hope nodded.

 "Well, what is it?" Belle asked, as she changed out the used hot chocolate pod for a new one.

 "Can you keep a secret?"

 Belle turned away from exchanging the styrofoam cups in her hands to give her a knowing glance, one she'd clearly been the one to pass down to her son.

 "I got him a Christmas present too," Hope whispered, "and I wanna make sure it's not a toaster or a playstation."

 "A toaster?"

 "It's a metaphor." She said. "Long story. I just don't want to give him something too big, or too small, or too stupid."

 "I see," Belle nodded, "Well, I'm not about to breach my son's privacy, but I won't breach yours either. If you tell me what you got him, I'll tell you if yours is too much or too little."

 "You'd really do that for me?" Hope asked.

 "Of course." Belle said, taking both cups of cocoa in her hands.

 Hope motioned for Belle to come closer, then whispered in her ear.

 Belle smiled.

 "Hope," Belle said, "I don't think that gift will be too big or too small at all. It sounds perfect."

 "Really?" Hope asked, feeling a massive weight of anxiety float away in a mere moment.

 "Yup. Now, you take these," she handed Hope both cups, "and, wait just a second."

 Belle took a bottle of syrup from the counter, clearly meant for the coffee, but apparently multi-purpose.

 "French vanilla?" Hope asked.

 "Your mother has her way of dressing up hot cocoa," Belle said, pouring a squirt of syrup into each cup, "and I have mine."

 "I'll have to remember that," Hope nodded, "And, thanks. Thanks for, well, everything."

 "Better get back to your studies," Belle winked.

 Hope took a sip of her cup of cocoa on the way back to their table. It was perfect.

🤍💙🤎🩵🖤

 "So, Gideon," Hope said, as they sat down together for their Christmas Eve dinner, "are you gonna tell me what you got me for Christmas yet?"

 "You'll find out soon enough," he smiled, "and, uh, did you end up getting that 'extra gift for no one special' yet?"

 "Maybe," Hope winked.

 "Oh, how adorable," Charlotte said, taking a seat in between Hope and CJ.

 Gideon's mom soon filled the seat next to him, followed by his stepdad, then Hope's parents, then Charlotte and CJ's, and finally the Mayor and her sister, with her daughter, Robin, next to CJ.

 Gideon tried his best to enjoy the ham and scalloped potatoes set before him, though his mind was on what would happen afterwards, the real meat and potatoes of the evening for him: when those gathered would start exchanging gifts, followed by singing carols, and the space in between those traditions when he'd find an excuse pull Hope aside and give her her gift. Sure, he could just give it to her now, or when everyone else gave gifts, but this one was different, special. It was a gift from him to her, simple as that, and it didn't need anyone else's attention.

 After the meal, as the family gathered around the tree to open presents, Gideon pantomimed joy as he thanked Mrs. Nolan for the book she gave him that he already had two copies of, and he was polite and respectful and didn't lie too much as he told the Mills sisters how much he liked the sweatervest they'd given him.

 Of course, there were genuine joys too, as there often are at Christmas. The younger generation oohed and awed as they each unwrapped a set of dice sent from Hope's brother in the Enchanted Forest. The house filled with laughter as the mayor gave Hope's grandma the annual gag gift of a perfect red apple. There was a type of mischievous joy passed between both parties as Hope unwrapped a present and stuck the bow that it'd been adorned with squarely on Gideon's forehead.

 And still, Gideon's focus was on the one gift that still had yet to be given. After all the packages beneath the tree had been unwrapped, Gideon excused himself, and quietly made his way to the front room of the house, where his jacket hung on a hook by the door.

 "Trying to make an escape before you can give me the elusive special Christmas present?"

 He turned and saw Hope standing in the doorway behind him, the lights of the merry festivities behind them reflecting off the sparkles on her red velvet dress.

 "Not at all," he said, as he slipped his jacket on and put his hands into the perfectly oversized pockets. "I just had to come grab a special gift for a special friend of mine."

 "Oh?" Hope asked, "she must be something pretty special if you had to leave all that excitement just to give her a gift."

 "Excitement?" Gideon asked. "Well then, I guess I better head back in now then. I'd hate to miss whatever festivities are happening without us."

 Hope took a step in front of him, blocking his path. "We can watch my dad and grandpa sing a rousing duet of All I Want For Christmas is You anytime." 

 "Can we really, though?" Gideon asked, sidestepping past her. She mirrored his step.

 "Charlotte's recording it," Hope said, "now, what'd you get me?"

 He sighed. As much as he loved the look on her face as she awaited his gift, he couldn't keep this up for too much longer, not without giving such a small gift too much hype and a huge letdown.

 "Fine," he said, pulling a wrapped square box, slightly larger than the palm of his hand, out of his pocket.

 "Oooh!" Hope said. She reached for it, but he held it up in the air above their heads.

 "What's the magic word?" He asked.

 "Um," Hope said, jumping up to try and reach it, "if you don't give it to me now I'll kick you?"

 Her idle threats didn't scare him anymore.

 "How about please?"

 Hope rolled her eyes, but they stopped halfway, the spark in her eyes frozen as they refracted onto his.

 "Please?" she asked, softly, and she almost seemed genuine rather than annoyed. He nodded and handed the gift to her without a word or a breath left in his mouth, acted upon by something almost beside himself, outside of himself, larger than himself.

 She tore the paper off the package with a careful excitement, and opened the box inside.

 "A charm bracelet," she whispered.

 "I hope you like it." He said, pointing to each charm on the bracelet in the box. "I picked out the charms myself. There's an angel for the snow angels we used to make in the backyard, and a music note for the caroling karaoke every year."

 "Especially the time we turned Silent Night into, well, the opposite of that," Hope added.

 "Exactly." Gideon smiled, "and the reindeer's for that time we tried to wait up to catch Santa Claus."

 "Hey, that snare trap worked perfectly!" Hope defended.

 "A little too perfectly."

 "Yeah," Hope laughed, "he was so mad at us."

 "And then we got coal in our stockings for the next three years," Gideon said, with a chuckle.

 Hope looked back down at the bracelet in her hand.

 "Is the candle for the time you burned the gingerbread cookies?" Hope asked.

 "Actually, the fireplace is," Gideon said, "The candle's for the time you set your hair on fire."

 "I'd almost forgotten that one," Hope said. "And what's the present for?"

 "For this," Gideon said, taking the box from her hand, "the first present I ever gave you that I bought instead of my parents."

 "I love it" Hope shook her head with an amazed disbelief. "Can you help me put it on?"

 "Sure," he said. He took the bracelet out of the box, and handed the box back to her. He then clasped the bracelet around her wrist.

 "How did you even come up with all these?" Hope asked.

 "Those are all my favorite Christmas memories, Hope. When I think of a Merry Christmas," and his hand slid from her wrist to her hand, and his tone lowered, and he continued, "I think of you."

 He watched her expression closely for any sign of discomfort, but instead saw a smile, and the red of her cheeks brought out by the red of her dress.

 "I have something for you too," Hope said, letting go of his hand so she could dig through her purse.

 "For me?" Gideon asked.

 "Of course," Hope said, "you didn't think I'd show up empty handed, did you?"

 "The thought had crossed my mind," he said.

 "Well, it was a silly thought," Hope said. "Here."

 She pulled a wrapped gift out of her bag that was only a little bigger than the box he'd given her. He opened it to reveal a small leather journal.

 "It's very nice," he said, unsure if his gift seemed too much in comparison.

 "Open it up, stupid," she said with a smile.

 He opened the notebook to the first page, which had a handwritten note.

 "Hey, Gid!

 I didn't know what to get you for Christmas, but I saw this notebook and thought it was missing something. Don't worry, I fixed it for ya.

 -HSJ"

 "What does that mean?" he asked.

 "Turn the page," she said.

 He turned the page to see a picture of them at Christmas when they were kids, pouring frosting that was meant for a gingerbread house directly into their mouths. Next to it was the recipe for gingerbread, with the temperature to set the oven to circled with red glitter ink multiple times.

 He turned to the next page: a drawing of a massive snow fort with four tiny stick figures on top. "EXPECTATION:" some writing above it said, and the facing page said "REALITY:" and featured a photo of them as kids, cramming next to Charlotte and CJ inside a circular wall of snow not even six inches tall.

 A few pages further, he found a drawing of his favorite mug with the moose on it, and two recipes for hot chocolate: Mrs. Swan style and Mrs. Booth style.

 "What's all this about anyways?" Gideon asked.

 "You're always filling your brain with all that useless school junk," Hope said, "algebra, Shakespeare, Washington, it's exhausting. I don't wanna see that pretty little head of yours get so full of numbers and names and dates that you forget what really matters."

 "Like what?" Gideon asked, with a smile.

 "Stupid intangibles like family and friendship and love and all that crap," Hope said, "I know, it's no charm bracelet, but…."

 "It's perfect," Gideon said.

 "Really?" Hope asked.

 "Really." Gideon said. "Of all the things I want to remember, you're the most important one."

 "Thanks," Hope said, that red flush creeping again along her cheek, "now, we'd better get back to the rest of the party before our dads start wondering what's taking us so long."

 "Yeah," Gideon said.

 But, apparently, they were too late.

 "Well, well," Gideon and Hope both froze as they heard his stepdad's voice across the room.

 He turned to see August smiling and calling to the other guests.

 "Belle, Killian, Emma," August called, "it looks like someone's under the mistletoe."

 "Huh, wonder who that could be," Gideon thought, before he noticed the guilty look on Hope's face. She looked up at the ceiling, and his eyes followed her gaze.

 Hanging above them like Damacles' sword was a festive assemblage of green leaves and holly berries, tied together with a bow, a scarlet letter that spelled trouble.

 "I'm sorry," Gideon said, "honest, I didn't realize it was there."

 "I know you didn't," Hope said, with an eye roll.

 Despite how fast his heart was suddenly beating, time seemed to hold still. He noticed several things very clearly— the looks on the faces of the parents gathered around them, ranging from the smile of his mom to the deathly glare of her dad. He noticed the way her eyes reflected the fairy lights that surrounded them, and the hint of a smile under her reddening cheeks. He noticed how sweaty his palms suddenly were, and he regretted wearing such a warm sweater, and his jacket as well now, and it dawned on him all at once that he'd never kissed a girl before, and that the number of people watching them had gone from zero to one to four to eleven in seconds, and that most of them probably expected him to kiss her, and that at least one of them would probably be very upset at him if he did.

 He also knew that, as far as he knew, Hope had probably never kissed anyone, either, and that if she wanted him to be her first kiss, that was great— but on her own terms. And if she didn't, well, she couldn't get mad at him for this.

 He bent down ever so slightly, leaned closer to her, then turned his head and planted his lips on her cheek, the cheek that wasn't as visible to their uninvited audience, but that, although his eyes were closed, he could tell had reddened by how it warmed at the touch of his kiss.

 He then pulled away from her, and they stood apart, merely looking at each other with a smile, and a nod to indicate there was no more left that needed to be done. This was met with the rest of the gathering shuffling back to their places, a few with a sigh, though Captain Jones with a smile that made Gideon fear much less for his life.

 "Hey, Gid," Hope said, as they walked back to the party, trailing along behind the rest of the group.

 "Yeah?"

 She slid her hand into his, and he looked down at her.

 "Think you can get me a mistletoe charm for the bracelet?"

 "I think so," Gideon said.

 "Thanks," Hope smiled, and stepped up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek, this one spurred on not by mistletoe or tradition or expectation of others, but simply by merit of the spirit of Christmas that hung in the air, and of the love carried between two friends who were well on their way to becoming so much more.

[bteezxyewriter12]

Daddy/ 5

Pairing- Namjoon x Named Reader

Word count- 1.7k

Includes- Stepdad Namjoon, "Dumb/naive" reader, reader name not used- instead called "baby"or "bunny", all are of consenting age, corruption, fucking from behind, oral, pussy eating, blow job, deepthroating, throat bulge, cum eating, squirting, missionary, choking, multiple orgasms, extremely minute fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxxmine @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @nctzennikki09 @mrcarrots @yoonallthetime @namjooningera @quinsly @kendranicole1996 @jacobhey @wolfgurl2600-blog @mrskimjoon @svnbangtansworld @taeluv13 @effielumiere @moonchild-qaads @kitinae

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Daddy Masterlist 📝Masterlists

📝BTS Masterlist

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One Month Later

Namjoon POV

"Gonna be my good cum slut and cum for daddy?", I ask, slapping her ass as I fuck her from behind

She's such a slut for me

She texted me to come to her room so she can ask me something

When I opened the door, she was already naked, on her hands and knees, legs spread, pussy dripping, begging me to fuck her

"Wear my cunt daddy! Wanna be worn so badly", she begged

How could I say no to that

I immediately went inside her and have been fucking her ruthlessly for ten minutes

"Harder daddy! I wanna hear the sound of your cock fucking me!", she yells

That only fuels me to go harder, breaking her cunt on my cock, the loud wet squelching sound of her taking my length so loud in the room

Over the last month she's become the perfect sex slave

Spreading her whore legs whenever I want, coming to me to get her cunt split everyday

Her sex drive is high, fucking me at least three times a day

She can't get enough of my cock or my tongue

"Please daddy! Wanna cum", she begs

"Oh do you?", I ask, watching her pretty lips spread open for me, like the petals of a flower

"Yes please. I'll make a big mess on your cock daddy"

"Oh yeah baby?", I ask, eager to see it

"The biggest mess"

She's become so good at dirty talk, saying she learned from me

Damn right

"Ok my cumslut, make your mess", I tell her, hitting her spot hard

"Daddy!", she screams, falling apart on my cock

I shove my whole length inside her, letting her throb around my entire length, the pleasure intense

"Mmm bunny, such a big mess", I praise her

When her cunt stops coming, I pull out, admiring the complete mess of cream on my shaft

Then I move my eyes to her sloppy cunt, her cream smeared around her slit

Kneeling down, I lick around her hole, cleaning up the mess

"Daddy", she moans softly

"Mmm my favorite", I murmur, slipping my tongue in her pussy, getting more

"More daddy"

"Mmmhmm", I answer, slipping my tongue in and out of her cunt, spreading her ass wide so I can get better access to her cunt hole

She's pouring juice, all of it in my face, down my neck and I revel in it

Fucking my tongue into her cunt, I move my arm around her waist, my fingers rubbing and pinching her clit fast and hard

Her screams of pleasure are a beautiful soundtrack, the clenching of her cunt around my tongue so fucking pleasurable

"Daddy, I'm gonna....daddy", she whines, her legs shaking hard

Her pussy squirts, gushing into my face, soaking me and her bed even more than it already was

My fingers don't stop rubbing her clit as I swallow mouthful after mouthful, savoring the taste

God, everything I ever tasted from her pussy tastes so fucking good, I can't get enough

She finishes and I kiss her pretty swollen lips before standing up

"Sit up", I tell her, walking around her

Standing in front of her, I wrap her hair around my hand in a ponytail and demand, "Open your mouth"

She does and I immediately pull her on my cock, bottoming out in her throat

She chokes hard, her spit dripping all over my dick and her bed, tears springing to her eyes

She's alright

Over the last month I've trained her throat for deepthroating everyday

She's used to how rough I am and she loves it

It turns her on

Gripping her hair, I pull her up to my head, let her breathe then shove her back down, burying in her throat

Moving her up and down my cock, I move her faster with each bob, moaning from how good it feels to be in her tight throat

Her constant chokes and gags turn me on, the sight of my cock bulging her throat so beautiful

"Such a good cockslut, taking daddy's shaft down your throat. Making such pretty sounds for daddy", I praise

Pulling her off my cock, her fucked out eyes moving to mine, tears flooding down them

"You're so pretty bunny", I say, wiping some of the tears, then gripping my cock, I press my head to her lips, "Suck daddy's head baby"

I watch her pretty lips wrap around my tip, her mouth sucking softly, her eyes closing

"Good bunny", I groan, pleasure running up my spine, "Go a little more down"

She does, sucking faster, her tongue on the underside of my cock

"That's it bunny. Doing such a good job for daddy"

As she moves, her tongue licks all around and I push her farther down until she had my whole shaft in her mouth again

I watch her go at it, sucking desperately, moaning as she does

"My baby loves sucking daddy's dick huh?"

She nods, gagging every few sucks

"Daddy loves his bunny's mouth. Feels so good. Your throat is almost like your pussy. Tight. Wet"

Her mouth doesn't stop, pleasuring me to the fullest

I taught her well

"Head down, mouth open bunny. Gonna fuck your throat"

She does as I say, her mouth so inviting, my hips move on their own, snapping and delving into her throat, over and over

She takes it and it just takes me a few thrusts before I'm ready to cum

I pull out, pumping my cock, coming all over her face as pleasure hits me

"Bunny! Yes baby!", I groan

She keeps her mouth open but I'm not sure if I get any inside

When I finish, she lifts her head, cum everywhere, even in her eyelashes

She moves her fingers in her face, collecting cum in them then shoving them in her mouth sucking

"Mmm", she moans, wiping more off and eating it, "Daddy's milk is so good"

"Bunny loves it huh?"

She nods

I let her finish eating my cum from her face then tell her, "Suck daddy's cock. Make me hard so I can fuck your pussy"

Her mouth is around my dick in seconds, sucking hard and fast

She's so eager to suck my dick and it's fucking great

I get hard in no time, pulling out of her mouth

Shoving her down, I move on top of her, getting her legs around me

"Gimme that pretty pussy", I murmur, sliding her on my cock, "Oh god yes. Fuck. Pulsing already"

"Yes daddy. Always want your cock inside me"

"I know. Such a slut for my cock"

She nods

I start moving, burying my cock in and out of her tight cunt, the pleasure so fucking intense

I can't get enough of her pussy

God if I could just stay inside her all the time, I'd do it

Her cunt is that good

Her hands are on the bed, gripping the sheets tightly as I fuck her mercilessly into the bed

I slowly move my hand up and around her throat

I wanted to try this but I was waiting

Didn't want to give her too much, to soon

I look at her, raising my eyebrow and she nods

My hand immediately tightens around her neck, silence filling the room

Her pussy gets so fucking tight, her body shaking

Fuck

Letting go, she inhales deeply, her eyes opening

"Good?", I ask

She nods, "So good. Can feel all of your cock so much more daddy"

I give her a few more pumps of my cock before I squeeze her neck again

Her body goes rigid, her cunt squeezing the life from my cock, her clit throbbing so much harder

It feels so fucking good to push through, her pussy sucking my cock good

Letting go, she screams, "Again daddy! I'm gonna cum! Again!"

"Ok bunny", I agree

Not because it feels good for her but because it feels good for me

Choking her again, her cunt pulses the hardest it's ever had, making me gasp in bliss

A few hits to her spot have her coming, her body arching and shaking uncontrollably

I let go of her neck, her screams shattering the silence, cream gushing from her onto my cock and pelvis

I keep fucking her through it so close to coming

She finishes but I haven't came yet, so I keep splitting her pussy open

"Hold daddy tight baby", I pant, her cunt clenching my cock

"Good girl", I say, moving my hand to her clit and rubbing

Her pussy tightens, throbbing over and over shoving me over the edge

"Fuck bunny", I cry, ecstasy hitting me hard as I orgasm

Rubbing her clit hard, her pussy squeezes around my coming cock, sucking hard

"That's it baby", I praise her, "Suck daddy's cock. Mmmm take all of daddy milk inside you. Take it, you're pussy is so hungry for daddy's milk"

"Yes daddy, yes!", she screams, her hand in her hair as she cums around my orgasming cock, the mix of our cum running out from her cunt and around my cock

The pleasure is lasting so long and my vision blurs as I struggle to stay upright

When it's finally over, I pull out and collapse next to her

God that was good

She turns to me, coming closer, cuddling into me

Uh, what?

"Bunny-", I start, moving away

This can't happen

It's only sex, nothing more and she needs to know that

"I'm tired daddy. Can you stay until I fall asleep? Then you can get up and leave"

I hesitate

It feels comfortable with her in the bed but I don't want her to get the wrong idea

I'm not her boyfriend nor will I ever be

She's just a fuck toy

"Just this once", I tell her, "But don't ask me again. I'm your daddy, I fuck you that's it. I'm not your boyfriend"

She nods, "I know daddy"

I nod, "As long as you know. Don't ask again"

"Ok", she says, cuddling back into my side

Holding back a sigh, I just stay still, watching her

Hopefully she falls asleep soon and I can get up

I need a shower, then I have some more work to do

As I lay next to her, I feel my eyes getting heavy

A nap would be amazing right now

But not here, in my room

Alone

After a shower

She moves closer, her forehead leaning against my upper arm

Her eyes are closed and I don't know if she's asleep

Closing my tired eyes, I decide to wait a few more minutes then leave

[fellthemarvelous]

Has everyone in the Good Omens fandom seen Shaun of the Dead?

(I tweeted this and then screenshot it because I had more to say. Also if you haven't seen the Thriller music video by Michael Jackson then you're missing out.)

It is very important to know that if you've seen Staged, you know that Simon Pegg and Nick Frost were both on the show together in one episode. They are just as close to each other as David and Michael are to each other.

Here is when Shaun and Ed finally notice something weird might be going on.

They have no idea why this woman was showing up in their backyard and they just assume she is drunk. They were so drunk the previous night (Liz dumped Shaun) they don't realize they witnessed one woman completely bite a man's head off or realize that the person moaning back in reply to the song they were singing was actually a zombie.

Ed literally took the time to find one of those ancient cameras we had to use before the invention of the smartphone. And we know that everyone with a smart phone these days would be doing the exact same thing if this was happening right now.

But Shaun also has this girlfriend, Liz,

who is always third-wheeling on dates with her own boyfriend because Ed is never not with them. And the truth is that Shaun needs to make a choice because he can't have both, and Liz really loves him back just as much as he loves her, but Ed is basically Shaun's shadow.

Shaun and Ed begin a noble quest to save Shaun's mum (his stepdad was bitten by a zombie so it becomes necessary to kill him too but there is a flaw in their plan because Philip is still alive by the time they get to the house and Shaun isn't going to kill a living person so they have to add him to the car), to save Liz (only to realize David and Di are still with her and they don't want to be left behind so they get added to the tiny car), and to go to The Winchester (Shaun and Ed's favorite pub and the bane of Liz's existence) because it's sturdy with heavy doors and a rifle behind the counter.

And then all hell breaks loose because Philip finally turns into a zombie in the car, and it's Philip's car that Ed stole because he really wanted to drive it because it was a classic and the child safety locks are still on in the back.

They end up having to abandon the car after locking Philip in it.

They finally reach the pub by acting like zombies and hoping the other zombies don't notice.

And if you have never seen this scene, it's the funniest part of the entire movie. It's iconic, and it happens to "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen. (Warning: this is still very much a zombie movie)

In the end, Ed gets bitten and later sacrifices himself to the other zombies so Liz and Shaun can escape a little easier.

And then at the very end Shaun is letting zombie Ed live in his and Liz's shed and they still play video games together, and even if Ed tries to bite him from time to time, Shaun yells at him and zombie Ed goes back to playing video games.

It still got the happy ending of a romantic comedy, and we never actually learn what caused the zombie breakout, and the zombie's best friend is taking care of him in the shed of the backyard where he and Liz will live happily ever after (we hope).

The movie ends with the song "You're My Best Friend" by Queen.

Also note: Liz's best friend Di is the only other one in their group to survive the zombie apocalypse but you only find out how if you watch the special features.

I think we need to be looking at Shaun of the Dead a bit closer.

And Hot Fuzz ("surrender the angle" is an easter egg from it), also starring Simon Pegg and Nick Frost. It's hilarious too.

The apocalypse is happening all around Aziraphale and Crowley, but we didn't notice because we were watching it through the lens of a romantic comedy. Meanwhile, Hell is overcrowded and Furfur set zombies loose on Earth in back in 1941.

[neeterloveschenford]

Gonna throw my two cents in about 6x01. Many will not agree with me, but it is what it is. We're all allowed our opinions on a bunch of fictional characters. That being said, let's dive in.

I don't have a problem with Lucy or Tim and how they behaved in last night's episode. Was Lucy OTT and a bit irrational? Yes. Let me introduce y'all to anxiety. It's a common reaction to duress. I have often acted in a similar manner over the course of my life. I like to think that I am better at managing my anxiety, but I'm also 20 years older than Lucy. People tell me all the time that I am so confident and have it together. What they don't know is that I am just really good at handling it. But Lucy is still only in her early 30's. She still has a lot of life that she hasn't experienced yet. And I will never understand this mindset that Lucy is ALWAYS super confident and badass. Ummm, are we watching the same show? Yes, in the moment she can be a complete badass. When we first meet her, she takes out and arrests the dude that tried to carjack her. In 2x07 we see her dive right in with the bomber showing Nyla the potential that she has and starting one of the best friendships on the show. In 3x06 she came up with a cover story on the fly to save June. And I could keep going. But all of these are instances where there was not time for her to second guess herself. And this is what I love most about Lucy. She is me and I am her in a lot of instances. I don't want her to be perfect all the time. I love her imperfections. I love the fact that she can sometimes be immature and emotional. This makes her more real. And another thing that I think is often overlooked is the fact that It's only been about 3 years in the timeline. We grow and change over the course of our entire lives. Give her some more time if you want her to be a superhero. I mean Angela and Nyla often struggle with balancing their personal and professional lives. This is a process that never stops. And I want to continue to see her grow and become more confident. But it's a life long process.

Now on to Tim. I keep seeing people say that Tim has sat in a shop with her for 3 or 4 years so he should know how to talk to her and never say the wrong thing. Listen, my mom and stepdad have been married for over 40 years and the man still says the wrong thing all the time. I love how he slipped back into TO Tim and didn't realize that wasn't what Lucy needed. Just like Lucy, it makes him human. I love that he is just as flawed as Lucy, just in different ways. As for the fight, yes it was stupid. But people have stupid fights everyday. And sometimes those stupid fights are the catalyst to being able to move forward and deal with whatever caused the fight in the first place. I am excited to see them finally deal with the underlying issues they obviously have.

Anyway, I could go on and on, but I have to go to work. So I will end this here.