#dark ages daddy

[poet-to-none]

BSU NEWS BROADCAST: "Black, Soft, Unearthly" Mention From Sam Reid

It's from:

Here's the moment it's brought up:

Here's the podcast he heard it on:

And of course it's @inkyblotposts that did the reading on Vampire Insider (and who met Sam Reid!)

And lastly, here's a link to "Black, Soft, Unearthly":

That's the news, fellow creatures of the night!

[poet-to-none]

Armand and Magnus keep me up at night guys 😩

For one, their opposite beliefs create the culture Lestat is born in AND how he is born into it. Armand never admits to the guilt of making it impossible for Magnus to sire someone normally, in his territory. The way Lestat is stolen with no warning, before the cult can really react to what will happen, is intentional to Magnus limits. Lestat must be born before the cult tries to stop it.

Armand's toxic cult culture (yes not his fault the cult has history and brainwashing methods used on him) vs Magnus live freely culture is a huge thing readers miss. He not only sired Lestat with freedom from all rules, he also gives him wealth, doesn't bad mouth the cult/coven (it's Lestat's choice to decide if he likes them or will become part of them, not Magnus!) and he even removes the burden of his own care from Lestat (because Magnus is doing mentally/cognitively shitty a long time and sees no cure).

Another goddamn insane thing about Magnus and Armand is by word of Allesandra (The Old Queen), Magnus stole immortality from the cult itself. Magnus did everything for himself to become immortal. He learned, he planned, and he survived an impossible heist to commit. What a contrast that is in every way. He and Armand were not born that far apart from each other in terms of era (they even wear the same style clothing), but Magnus endured old age and loss of his beauty, and Armand had the privilege to keep both. Magnus would never had been considered to meet the standards of being physically without flaw (even young and handsome) and Armand was soaring *above* the standards.

There's so many reasons these two disliked each other or couldn't see beyond their pov of their mortal lives. IT IS JUICY.

“Clad in red velvet it came, the very covering my old Master had so loved, the dream king, Marius. It came swaggering and camping through the lighted streets of Paris as though God had made it.

But it was a vampire child, the same as I, son of the seventeen hundreds, as they reckoned the time to be then, a blazing, brash, bumbling, laughing and teasing blood drinker in the guise of a young man, come to stomp out whatever sacred fire yet burnt in the cleft scar tissue of my soul and scatter the ashes.” -Armand’s first impression of Lestat in The Vampire Armand

“The creature wasn't dressed as men dress now. Rather he wore a belted tunic, very graceful, and stockings on his wellshaped legs. His sleeves were deep, hanging at his sides. He was clothed like Magnus, actually, and for one moment I thought madly that by some magic it was Magnus returned. Stupid thought. This was a boy, as I had said, and he had a head of long curly hair, and he walked very straight and very simply through the silvery light and into the church.” -Lestat’s first impression of Armand in The Vampire Lestat

Both doomed to think that the other was their maker who would never return to them!

[poet-to-none]

Magnus stole our secrets from us, that crafty one, that alchemist, Magnus. . .when he drank the blood that would give him life eternal in a manner which the World of Darkness had never witnessed before.

-Allesandra

He was mortal still in the dream, a great and powerful alchemist. It was right before the crucial hour of dusk. And now, as the light died out of the heavens, Magnus drank. . . a dark Prometheus stealing a luminescent fire.

-Lestat 

Surrender to none, not god, not demon, and never to man. 

-Magnus 

Quotes from The Vampire Lestat, Paraphrased 

Magnus & Benedict - This is a birthday commission for @poet-to-none from SaintRayne @saintrayne

[gladiatorcunt]

summary: leto atreides x afab concubine!reader

cw: daddy kink, pregnancy, power imbalance, dark fic coded, implication that the other concubines “disappeared”, overstimulation, body worship, i would do anything to be in reader’s position here i’m being so real, not included but got reader pregnant in the full nelson position, the smut is in a flashback, mention of the reader having hip dips, mention of leto with others but he realizes you’re the one after lmao, probably dune world/lore inaccuracies, reader’s a member of the duke’s breeding program, mention of choking, intended age gap but you can read it as otherwise

wc: 1k+

block & move on if uncomfortable !!!

do not repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

“It’s to wake up, my love.”

Your eyes flutter open to see Duke Leto Atreides standing over your bed, one of his hands brushing back some of your hair away from your face. He smiles warmly when you tiredly meet his gaze, and holds out an open palm. You take it and let him help you sit up, though that’s as far as he’s willing to let you go. Leto hovers his hands over your baby bump, borderline paranoid about you doing anything that could jeopardize the health of the baby.

“I thought my appointment with the doctor wasn’t until next week, my lord…” You yawn, resting your hands on your belly as you fight off sleep. Being heavily pregnant was no easy task, and most days it feels like you have as much energy as a corpse.

“It is, I simply wanted to see you.” Leto answers, petting your hair and curling one arm around your lower back to support it. “When we’re alone, get rid of the ‘my lord’, what we have is more than the results of an obligation.”

You sigh, leaning into his touch as you consider his words. Months ago, you were just another member of the Duke’s harem. One of many meant to produce heirs until your body shriveled up. Your family was noteworthy but not noble enough to stay afloat, you heard that the Duke was looking for breeders and you left without looking back. Though you will admit that Leto Atreides is not the worst man you could’ve taken inside you. He was gentle and the way he kissed you suggested that he felt more than just gratitude.

You pretended to not mind the sounds and stories you heard from the other concubines in the beginning. You knew perfectly well what you were signing up for, the feelings came from nowhere, you swear.

Leto’s mannerisms during sex were impossibly adoring and intimate, and he would tell you were special every time in the midst of the afterglow. You stopped hearing heart dropping noises and nauseating stories, and the day after you found out you were pregnant you heard nothing at all. The Duke took longer than usual to meet with you that night.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” Leto calls out, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you get ready for bed.

You finish tying the strings of your nightgown and turn around to face him. There are strange little flecks of red in the wrinkles on his face, but they could be a trick of the light so you brush the curiosity off.

“I am always waiting for you, my lord.” You repeat the same thing you say everyday, noting the way the corners of his smile flatten in displeasure.

He cups your face and walks the both of you backwards towards the bed, shooting his hands out to keep himself from crushing you when you inevitably fall on it.

Time passes by in a blur, every moment filled with cries of “Daddy” and overzealous movement from him that punches the breath of your lungs. He’s not incredibly rough, just passionate enough to have tears dot your lashes and his thumb buried in your mouth. Every kiss is a hot swirling mess of saliva and tongues colliding that gets you so wet, you really believe it could kill you.

“Mm, your tongue feels amazing, clumsily chasing after mine.” Leto grunts at some point, rutting and slamming his balls against your ass with no rhyme or reason. “The tightest cunt i’ve ever had, fuck-“

You hum around his thumb, suckling on it like he’s your god and his thick fingers in your mouth are your only reason to live. He grinds his teeth together when you make eye contact, and you struggle to keep it up as you hollow out your cheeks around his coarse digits.

“Wanna make you proud, Daddy, gonna be so good for you.” The words are muffled past the point of comprehension, but your eyes allow him to get the gist.

If you were not already pregnant, the flood of fresh cum in your pussy would’ve done the trick. You clench around your lord’s fat cock and let yourself break, squirting all over yourself.

When you come to, Leto’s busying himself with latching onto your tits like a leech and bullying your battered pussy.

“These are already so sensitive, aren’t they? And to think that I made them that way…” Leto trails off, licking a broad stripe over your nipple and pinching your clit.

You jolt and throw your head back, “Yes, Daddy, you did.”

He groans at the frequently used name, pinching your clit harder and digging his fingers in deeper. You’ve had more orgasms than you ever thought possible in the last hour alone, but your lord was insatiable like this. His head is too high in the clouds with visions of his future family to calm down.

Your legs shake but he takes his hand away from your clit and smooths his palm over your thigh to steady you.

“It’s alright, you know i won’t be too rough honey, you can take it. You’ve already taken my seed beautifully, growing my son in your womb.”

You know there’s no chance of stopping until Leto’s sure that he’s kissed and lavished every inch of your delectable body in Daddy’s attention. He gives each of your buds a ‘Goodbye for now’ kiss and wipes down the dips in your hips with his tongue, soothing the love bites and caressing the necklace of bruises around your neck he left when he lost control.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The bed sinks with Leto’s added weight, and your cheeks warm as you come back to the present. You look down at your joined hands to see a box clenched tightly in his free one. Like he’s scared of dropping it. You gaze up at him questioningly and he smiles once again before softly kissing the skin between your eyes.

Next thing you know, Duke Leto Atreides is kneeling before you and opening the box to reveal a large ring. It’s magnificently crafted and all the details align with your taste perfectly.

“Will you marry me?”

[poet-to-none]

No, parkour was invented in 1510 . . .

Magnus | The Vampire Chronicles | Marker Sketch | August 2024 See on Ao3! What's this inspired by*? Here:

*he doesn't need his hood up yet (he's practicing the night before the opening)

[glossysoap]

….

[hanasnx]

just like a daddy should

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: this concept of dark!hayden is co-created/developed by @xstarkillerx | dead dove do not eat for emphasis on age gap relationship and heavy daddy kink content. dark!hayden is an au, it does not reflect my view of hayden christensen as a person. in this au he's not an actor. WARNINGS: dead dove do not eat | f!reader | dark!hayden | daddy content | age gap | problematic behavior | ass patting | mild exhibitionism | no y/n

Your heels clack against the wooden boards of the stairs, climbing them to invite yourself onto the resort staging set above the beach. The bodyguard steps aside for you, he knows who you're here with.

"—liquidating that branch'll do nothing for you here. You'll be bleeding yourself—" the sound of DARK!HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN's voice soothes your worries, approaching where he lounges on a cushioned chair. His elbow is hooked onto the corner of it, and his leg is folded up to rest his ankle on his knee. His outfit remarkably smart, white linen shirt tucked into gray dress pants and a thin black belt. Never mind his comfort, you ignore his companion, interrupt his conversation, and invite yourself onto his lap. He sees the stressed lines of your brows, and makes room for you right as you take your seat.

"Daddy." you whine. The strings of your micro-bikini catch on his clothes, and he discretely tugs down a cup to cover a bit more of the curve of your chest that'd been revealed. You frown at your hand, "I broke a nail. And I just got these done!" you cry, hopelessly examining the dejected state of your cracked acrylic, and you feel his breath against your shoulder as he looks over it. Gently, he envelopes your hand in his, drawing it in his line of sight.

"Oh, duchess, let me see." he sympathizes you, studying what you offer him while he palms your bare thigh. "Don't worry. We'll fix it later. I've gotta take care of some things here." he coos, his lips murmuring against your ear that shoots tingles up your spine. You sought comfort and attention, and that's exactly what he's given you. Hayden can see out of the corner of his eye how his associate cannot take his eyes off of you, nor the shameless display before him.

Hayden notes how rude you are, how you have no manners, ignoring his companion, neglecting to introduce yourself. The tenacity of being young and naive is so deliciously novel to him. So much so it brings entertained curls to the corners of his mouth. You pivot more into Hayden's direction, his hand sliding against your back as you do, and he settles into the cushion when you lean into him. Curious fingers latch onto the collar of his button-up, widening it's opening to expose more of his chest. Fingertips toy with the lines of his collarbones, watching yourself fidget, pouting at it. "I miss you." you say, hushed, and meet his patient gaze. He says nothing, so you take it as your cue to leave. You push off him, planting your high heels on the floor to stand. In newfound giddy energy, you show off your ass to him. "What do you think of my new tattoo?"

A little tramp stamp is visible right above your low waistband. As he lingers a glance on it, his expression hardens, and his voice lowers, "We'll talk about this later." A pat on your ass is your signal to get going, intent to avoid making a scene here. No one said you can get a tattoo, tattoos are too grown for your virgin skin. To diffuse the tension he knows he's caused, he calls after you casually, "Wait for me at the bar. Order me something, huh? Surprise me."

His associate looks after you, gaze glued to the way your hips sway as you recede. You're young, and he can't pin down what your relationship to Hayden is exactly. When he shifts his attention back to Hayden, he's met with a hint of a prideful smile. "Sorry about that. My buddy's daughter. We're close, you know?"

[heartofjasmina]

Eijirou finds you throwing a tantrum. He'd thought the news he was going on an overnight mission had gone deceptively well when he told you the night before. But this morning? His Baby was regressed and acting out every big feeling in a big way. Your stuffies were getting thrown around the room, your toys were out everywhere and you were sobbing all the while. "Oh sweetheart," he comes into the room and barely dodges a toy being thrown his way. "No! Bad daddy!" You cry with hurt spilling over in your eyes as you look at him. He kneels beside you so he can meet your gaze, using his Daddy voice as he says, "Kiddo, you can't destroy your room because you're upset. When you're upset what do you do? Come to Daddy right?" That sets you off again as you sniff, shuffling your feet as you mumble, "But Daddy's gonna be gone." "And I'm sorry about that sweetness, I really am. Its going to hurt Daddy to be away from you too you know?" You finally look up when he says that. "Really?" He smiles softly, flashing a pointy tooth. "Really. I hate being away from my best girl. Now come here." He opens his arms wide and you can't resist, you bury yourself in his chest and whisper softly. "Need Daddy." His heart aches as he holds you a bit tighter and responds, "Daddy needs you too."

taglist: @bakubunny

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Late Bloomer" (pt 1 of 2)

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female reader

Tags: human trafficking, dark!Lloyd, significant undefined age gap, older man/younger reader, daddy/girl, dub con with significant non con elements, first time, innocence kink, loss of virginity, exploitation, dacryphilia, size kink, dumbification, misogyny, squirting, forced orgasm, p in v sex, light degradation, pet names, oral sex: m! and f! receiving, sexual awakening, age play vibes, little!reader, but not really: she's just drugged and really really dumb.

Word Count: 5754

Summary: She’s the purest thing he’s ever touched, this soft, tearful, quivering creature in his hands. He’s never felt such lust and violence at the same time. He desperately needs to ruin her. And yet somehow, also desperately, he needs to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.

A.N.: The age gap is left undefined. The OF is not the girl from the movie, which I haven't seen. I don't write characters as explicitly younger than 18 on Tumblr, after having a foul staff member equate any and all teenage pairings with CSAM.

That said, this fic is dark. It was started as a way to check off some of my hardest Bingo squares without actually going there, with the themes that were outside my wheelhouse or too ick for me to write. My MCU Kink Bingo card in particular, has a few of these whammies.

He imagines her as a rose: fragrant and velvet-soft. Imagines crushing her in his hand, plucking her petals off one by one, until there's nothing left.

Lloyd's always loved ruining pretty things.

The job doesn't go quite as planned, but Lloyd can be a go-with-the-flow, adapt-to-the-demands-of-the-moment type guy when he needs to be, he gets creative, and in the end it all works out alright.

The not-insubstantial bounty for the Russian perverts is regrettably forfeited when he loses his temper and gives them the brutal executions that they deserve. But that money can be made back if he finds a buyer for the yacht, he's managed to eliminate a few deplorables, and he's gained himself an unexpected prize, to boot.

Not a bad day for doing crime.

They shove the bodies overboard and retire for the night, headed for their rendezvous with the Powerbroker in Madripoor. Lloyd's men handle the cargo, already under strict orders not to touch the younger ones, whom Lloyd figures he'll arrange to have dumped off at an embassy once they dock in Jakarta.

Maybe he'll call up The Nomad Formally Known as Captain America and tip him off. Asshole has been on his tail annoyingly much, these past few months. Lloyd should send the righteous old fossil a reminder that there are way bigger scumbags plaguing the planet than his little band of hired guns.

The older girls seem relieved to have been liberated and they don't put up much of a fuss when they're divvied up amongst Lloyd's crew for the evening. Lloyd's personal pick, the poor thing whom he'd had to physically wrestle away from Yuri with a flare gun pressed right to her head, has been locked down in a stateroom to try and calm her down.

Despite what some people say, Lloyd's not an inconsiderate monster, so he does freshen up first, showering all the blowback off his face and changing into something comfortable before heading below deck. He keys in the code for the room, which is large and lavish and looks exactly like something a Russian billionaire would design. All money, no taste.

The girl's on the bed. She's still crying, but it's a pretty type of crying, rather than hysterical or snotty; tears that enhance rather than detract; the type of thing a man can really appreciate, if so inclined.

Lloyd steps into the room, takes a deep breath and reminds himself to take his time with this. No sense rushing it and wasting a good thing. He's going to savor every moment.

She squeaks when she sees him there. "Oh!"

"Shh, sh sh," he soothes. "There there now. Why're you crying, Buttercup? There's nothing to cry about. Not anymore."

He shuts the door behind himself with a gentle sound, but even though he's cooing a slew of placating nonsense at her, she still cries out in a desperate little, "No!"

"Hey, it's okay."

"Nnngh ... s-stay back!"

Lloyd's cleaned himself up since their encounter above deck, but the poor thing did just watch him collapse Yuri's face in with a pipe, so he shouldn't be surprised that she's scared. "I'm not here to hurt you," he says, then pauses when he sees that it's the gun in his hand that she's staring fearfully at.

Oh. Right. That makes sense. He'd had the muzzle of the thing pressed against her temple not too long ago, after all. Maybe he should've left that out of sight. 

It's not like he'll need it to subdue her. Moving slowly and pointedly, he sets it down and holds up his empty hands. "There. It's not even a real gun, see? It was all for show, just a flare gun. It can't hurt you."

(Eh. True, it had been for show, but not so true that it couldn't have rearranged her face if he'd wanted it to. Whatever. Details.)

"It was just a little bit of drama, you understand? To make things go the way I needed them to up there. Men like that only respond to one thing." She blinks at him and he offers her a gentle smile. "L. Hansen. Freelance contractor, or rescuer, in your case. You're welcome."

"And ... those guys?"

He tuts. "Fish food, now. They've been taken care of." He takes a step closer, keeping an eye on her in case she's thinking of bolting. She still isn't here by choice, after all. As far as she knows, Lloyd is just the least bad of all the bad guys.

(Which isn't un-true).

He joins her on the bed, where she's still curled on her side, the odd sniffle and overwhelmed hiccup escaping her here and there. "Hey, hey, hey now." He crawls up beside her and forces her onto her back, which isn't hard to do with the fragile state she's already got herself worked up into. He shushes her fearful whimpers and tucks her hair behind her ear with a tender look. "You're real pretty when you cry, Angel, but I promise there's no need. Not anymore. That's all over, okay? I've got you now. You're safe."

The sweet thing sniffles and blinks up at him through clumped lashes. "I am?" she asks, the instinctive trust in her voice making Lloyd's cock thicken in his pants as he realizes that she's got about two brain cells to rub together. "Y-you promise?"

Oh, this is gonna be so fun.

He smiles down at her. "Yeah, Cupcake. I promise. You're completely safe with me." He taps her dainty little ski slope nose with a finger. "I bought you, remember? So that none of those nasty men can ever touch you again, only me. That's the rules."

For a second, the girl's chin wobbles, her eyes welling with uncertainty and the threat of more tears. But Lloyd's had enough of her being upset, doesn't have the patience to spend half the night calming her down when he's already exerted himself so much for her benefit already. Five guys are dead, his bank account is a couple hundred grand lighter (at least temporarily), he's lost the bounty he came for in the first place, and there are going to be a fascinating array of bruises on his body by morning. All this trouble, all this work for her. He's tired now, his day is over, he wants his payoff.

"Hey," he says firmly, holding her chin between two fingers. "I said: calm down. You're safe with me. Nobody's gonna hurt you anymore. You're just going to have nice things and feel good from now on. I'll take care of you."

She sniffles. "You will?"

Wow. She really is as dumb as advertised. Lloyd hums. "Sure will, Cupcake. Only nice things. Just so long as you be my good girl and do what I want. And that'll be easy as pie, because I'll always tell you what I want."

She bites her lip and lets it slip back out slowly between the grasp of her teeth. And the best part about it is that she's not even trying to be coy: she's literally just this clueless. "But," she hedges. "... what do you want?"

He smiles down at her and palms the side of her face. "Just you, Buttercup," he purrs, arousal and anticipation making his pants tight as he takes in just how beautiful she really is, with her porcelain-smooth skin and soft jaw, her baby-fat cheeks and wide, watery eyes. She really is like a doll come to life. 

Lloyd can't wait to wreck her. 

"What's your name, Princess?" he asks, coaxing her with a kind expression that she gravitates towards. "Hm? You can tell me. I'm Lloyd."

She giggles and looks away. "That's a funny name."

"Is it?" He laughs along with her and nods. "Yeah I suppose it is. I didn't pick it, unfortunately. But I'm going to pick your name. Something real beautiful and delicate, just like you. I'm thinking some kind of flower. How bout that?"

An adorable little frown pinches in the space between her eyebrows. "What? But, my name is - "

"I know, I know," he cuts her off, already knowing what she's going to say. He sticks his bottom lip out at her in a playful pout. "But that's such a little girl's name, don't you think? We should pick something new, since you're starting over new with me. Something more ... fitting."

He lets his eyes drag up and down her faintly curved form, the body that somebody above deck decided would be best appreciated in a tiny cotton top and pair of pink panties. If it wasn't so cute, it'd piss him off: those creeps dressing her in little girl undies in their effort to hock her along with the rest of the wares. But anyone with eyes can see she's not like the other merchandise.

Lloyd trails one finger over her hip and into the valley of her waist, appreciating the particular season of life she's in. She's limber and nubile, body almost grown into itself. A still-green sapling that's not quite done taking shape, with branches that are still soft enough to be trained this way or that as she approaches womanhood. She's malleable, moldable. Ripe for the picking.

The night above deck may have ended up in violence, but Lloyd came on-board peaceably, under the guise of a buyer, and it hadn't slipped his notice that her age was pointedly left off the dossier. It means she's quite a bit older than she looks, and the sellers hadn't wanted to lead with that.

Despite the pleasure Lloyd got out of ripping those perverts' nuts off, he still knows the business, understands the concept of maximizing one's buyer pool. Sex traffickers gonna sex traffic, and all that. But even still, there's a reason he didn't mind forfeiting that bounty. He's no hero, but he's done his bit to help. Now he fully intends to reap the benefits that've fallen into his lap as a direct result of a bunch of Russian perverts also happening to be lying salesmen.

"I'm keeping you for myself," he tells her, with another affectionate tap on the nose. "You're a very special, beautiful girl."

Her eyes widen at what she clearly perceives as a compliment, and she leans closer in a way that's so honestly naive, it makes Lloyd wonder if the dealers "enhanced" her with anything, pre-sale. He won't complain if they did, he doesn't mind a braindead bimbo, but it'd be nice to know if this is all chemically assisted, or just a natural gift. The thought nearly makes him snicker when he has it: Maybe she's born with it, maybe it's Maybelline lobotomy.

"You're special," he tells her again, trailing his fingers over her bare shoulder. "A real natural beauty."

She shakes her head bashfully. "No, m' not. I'm ... plain."

He scoffs, though privately he's thrilled (girls with low self esteem always give the best head.) "Honey, you wouldn't be in this room with me if you were 'plain'," he deadpans, not missing how she shifts and glances down at her body self-consciously. "Trust me, Sweetcheeks: men don't spend the kind of money that I just did, if what they're buying isn't astoundingly precious."

She squirms and her lashes lower onto heat-stained cheeks. "I dunno," she mumbles, embarrassed as she obviously recites someone else's words: "M' a late bloomer."

Lloyd laughs. "Well hey, that's okay. Nothing to be embarrassed about, you know. I'm glad."

"You ... are?" She peeks up at him and Lloyd smiles.

"Yeah, Baby. I am. Don't you know the best part about having a flower is getting to watch it bloom?" He thumbs at the little Botticelli cleft she's got in her chin and savors the shudder that travels through her body at that, enjoying the reaction, how hopelessly vulnerable she is. "You know," he muses, turning into her more and pressing her into the blankets. "I think that's going to be your name: Blossom. Would you like that?"

"oh—"

He cuts off that small, surprised sound by kissing her—slowly. He doesn't do much with it at first, because he wants to soak up her inexperienced reactions; wants to feel her hot little gasp of surprise and the softness of her lips pressed to his, her body stiffening and then liquifying underneath the foreign touch of a man. She doesn't know how to handle it, squeaking against his mouth and pushing up against him as his body presses her down.

"It's okay," he whispers. "You're just perfect, Little one. A perfect, tender blossom." His hand migrates to her waist and digs into all of that give, violence and lust bubbling to the forefront of his mind at how fucking delicate she is. He imagines her as a rose: fragrant and velvet-soft. Imagines crushing her in his hand, plucking her petals off one by one, until there's nothing left.

He's always liked ruining pretty things.

"Please," she whispers, trembling. Fuck.

He licks at the seam of her lips and lets his hand drag over her belly while he whispers: "I can't wait to see you bloom, Little flower." Dips inside with the tip of his tongue: "Watch you open up for me." Cups her over the front of her panties: "Watch you unfurl."

"Oh." She sighs, hips juddering reactively up against his palm and then squeaking at the jolt of pleasure it sends through her. Lloyd gives her more pressure and smiles right in her face as she gasps.

"That feels nice, doesn't it?"

"Yy-yeah, but—oh! n-no ... wait, wait, I can't." Her hips kick up again and she whines at her own body's reactions. "Nnn, wait ..." Her hands grab at Lloyd's wrist where he's cupping her, but when he doesn't stop rocking his palm she grapples up at his shoulders instead, giving adorable little pushes that do absolutely nothing other than spur him on.

"C'mon Angel, none of that," he chides, slotting his leg forward in place of his hand so that he can reach up and coax her hands away from fighting him. He envelops her wrists and gently presses them into the blankets at either side of her head. And Jesus fuck, her wrists are tiny. He could hold both of them in one of his, easily. "Relax, Baby. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just want to make you feel good."

She whimpers when his clothed thigh grinds up against her core, her eyes getting watery again. "Ooh ..."

"Yeah. It's okay," he soothes, giving her another kiss, this time a little deeper, guiding her a little more while she writhes against the pressure of his thigh. "There you go," he praises, pretending that he doesn't know that her writhing is still part struggle. "See? Doesn't that feel nice?"

"P-please," she says, "I-I can't."

"Sure you can." He releases one of her wrists and laces their fingers together. "Just relax. I've got you."

"But, I've never," she cries. "Please, I don't ... I've never ... "

"Oh, Sweetheart." Though he'd figured she was a virgin, hearing her whimper it up at him so sweetly has his cock throbbing against the seam of his joggers. He nuzzles her cheek and coos, "You trying to tell me you've never been with a man, is that it?" She keens in embarrassment and he shushes her. "Hey, that's okay. That's perfectly okay."

She sniffles and squirms against him. "Nnn. But I'm not ... I-I don't know how. And you're a ... a ..."

He chuckles. "I'm a what?"

"... a man," she whispers, face flaming.

"Yeah, I am. But that's good, Honey. Dont'cha think? Every girl needs a man to teach her things, at some point. And it's that time for you."

She mewls helplessly in her throat and shakes her head, not noticing that her crotch is still grinding up on him as she does. "But what if I ... what if I can't ..."

"Don't worry," he tuts. He thumbs fondly at the damp corner of an eye until she peeks up at him. "I told you, Petal: I want to see you bloom." She colors beautifully at that and ducks her chin, and Lloyd dips down to kiss her again, not letting up until he feels her body soften to it a little bit more. She seems to realize what her hips are doing and freezes, but he just grabs her and guides her back into the rhythm, groaning when she starts up again. "There you go. Good girl."

"Lloyd ..."

"Don't be afraid. We'll take it slow, okay? I'll guide you, show you everything you need to know."

She sniffles and shivers, still teary-eyed, but she isn't pushing against him anymore. "Will it hurt?" she whispers.

Lloyd's cock gives a mighty throb and his eyes darken. "No, Blossom," he promises. "It won't hurt. Cause I'm gonna open you up real gentle and slow, show you how it can feel so, so good, okay?" He nudges her nose with his when she doesn't answer. "Tell me you understand, Little flower."

"Mmm." She's so shy, so reluctant and sweet. It makes Lloyd's cock ache worse than anything. "... Okay," she eventually whispers.

He hums knowingly and gives her one last peck on the lips before pulling back to undress. He goes slow enough not to spook her, but fast enough that he isn't drawing it out needlessly and scaring her any worse. He's prepared to hold her down if she starts struggling again, but that's not how he wants this to go. He really does want to watch her unfurl.

Her eyes widen and she stares at him with parted lips as he strips out of his clothes and his body is revealed. She seems stuck in place; a deer in headlights, fascinated and terrified—even more so, once he gets his cock out.

He angles it downward and gives himself a slow, tight tug, watching her watch him, soaking up the look of a girl who's having her first real sexual experience. She bites her lip and stares at his hand on his cock, eyes flitting between the weeping tip and his fist, his heavy sac and powerful thighs and back up again. Her brow is pinched and she keeps dragging her lip through her teeth, and Lloyd's balls ache at how tender it is to get to see her appreciating a man's body for the first time; losing this one, innocent part of herself. The very first petal to fall.

Still, he feigns ignorance with a coaxing, "You ever been naked with a man like this, Baby?" He knows that she hasn't, knows what a frightened and turned on virgin looks like. The poor thing is trembling in her skin, completely lost for what to do. Her mouth works like she'll answer verbally, but when she can't seem to make that happen, she just shakes her head a little instead.

"Mmn. Mm mn."

He nods in understanding. "Okay, Blossom. That's just fine." He lies over her again, abandoning his cock and touching the bottom hem of her little top. Fittingly, there are tiny, pale pink rosebuds printed on it. "Can I take this off?" he asks, tracing up to her ribcage and back down from over the cotton. "Hm?" He holds her gaze as he starts gently edging up the fabric. Her belly quakes and she whines nervously, but she lifts her arms for him when it's time, and he praises her with another quiet 'good girl'.

She's wearing a little bralette under the top, with lace edges and a delicate material that provides absolutely no structure. It doesn't even quite conceal the soft shade of her nipples peeking through. Lloyd groans lowly and skims his hands over them. "Fuck, Petal." She inhales noticeably at that, and he shoots her a grin. "Aw, you like that one, huh?" he teases. "My little flower Petal." he ghosts his fingers over her breasts, back and forth, until her nipples are fully pebbled and poking against the thin fabric. "So pretty," he murmurs.

She squirms, flustered, arms pressing in against her sides like she's fighting the urge to cover herself. "They're not ..." she starts, biting her lip and not finishing what she was going to say as her face flames.

"What?" Lloyd coaxes.

"Just ... they're not ... very big."

He doesn't bother to school the displeasure from his face, his eyes darkening as he growls in disapproval. It works in that her eyes pop up to him, wide and questioning. He shakes his head and lets his weight come down more, holding her down with his body and palming greedily at her little breasts. "No," he agrees roughly, rubbing and groping her. "They're not very big, are they?" He leers and pushes the little excuse for a bra up over them. "Sweet little mountain peaks," he teases. She squeaks and tries to cover herself, but Lloyd isn't having it. He knocks her hands away with a warning look. "Don't do that. I want to see you. All of you." He helps her slip the bralette over her head, tossing it aside and returning to take both of those chubby little swells in his palms, cupping and pressing them together as much as they'll go. "Jesus," he curses softly.

They're small and underdeveloped, more mound than slope, jutting out from her chest in youthful defiance. They're so innocent, so cheeky and plump. The sight of them makes that base, destructive desire surface in him again; the urge he sometimes gets to devour and claim and take, to ruin something that's so pretty and good. Lloyd wonders if that's what makes him a sociopath. "Such pretty tits," he praises, then lowers his face to seal his mouth over one, puffy nipple.

She squeaks, frightened at first, but she must be sensitive there because all it takes is one or two firm sucks and she's loosing the most gorgeous, helpless moans. Her hips kick up and Lloyd hums around his mouthful. He gives her more pressure through his thigh, pleased when she grinds up with real purpose.

"Yeah," he encourages. He pulls away and glances up from the level of her chest to find her staring at him with that same, pinched expression, but sloe-eyed instead of wide-eyed, now. Cupping the swollen tip of her breast and swiping out with his tongue, he watches as it makes her face absolutely crumple in desire.

"Ohn, god."

"See?" he says, nodding at the next uncoordinated roll of her hips. "It's all gonna be okay. Just gotta let me show you."

As turned on as she is, she still sniffles, her eyes flitting over him, afraid of what she doesn't know, unable to conceal her nervous interest. He can see her trying to look down and catch sight of his cock again, and he rumbles in approval and lets it drag against her hip. "You want to touch it?" he teases, then chuckles when she clamps her eyes shut and shakes her head with a stubborn little, uh uh. "Aw, that's okay, Sweetheart. You're shy. That's to be expected."

"M'not."

He laughs at her and gives her breast one last, affectionate kiss. "Don't lie, Buttercup. It's fine. Lots of girls are like that, you know. Nervous about touching, unsure, need to feel good before they can really let go enough and explore the way they want to. So how about ... I help you relax first?"

"Mmn." She whines and refuses to look at him. "... How?"

He sinks down her body, hands dragging over her waist and hips, holding her down with a chiding little tut when she squirms a little too much. "Shh. There's a girl." He forces her legs open and shoulders his way in there, and that's what seems to get her to still. He kisses her belly with a pleased hum, right at the top edge of the panties, where there's a tiny silk bow and green peapod detail. Lloyd groans at the sight of it and gives it a little kiss. "Have you ever had an orgasm, Sweetpea?"

"What?!" She huffs in embarrassment and tosses her head. "Noo. I, I don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” he teases.

“That."

"No?" He smirks and looks down to where there's a telling wet patch on the gusset of her panties. "Hm. You mean you don't touch yourself?" As inexperienced as she is, he still finds it hard to believe that a girl could get to her age without exploring. He places a coaxing line of kisses down the inner crease of her thigh. "Not even a little bit? Maybe sometimes at night?” 

“I … I don’t …”

“Don’t what?" He blows gently against her. "Don’t ever wake up from a dream with that tight and achy feeling deep inside your tummy?”

“Ohh.”

“Don’t let your hands start to creep down here? Don’t rub a little to try and make it feel better?"

She whines again and squirms, though it's not a fight to get away so much as it is pure nerves and embarrassment. She even seems a little mad at him for teasing her so much. It makes him chuckle and push her thighs wider so he can really get his face down there. "Oh, no. Don't pretend you haven't touched this little flower. You've closed your eyes and let your hands wander." He takes one of her hands in his and brings it down, ignoring her grunt of protest and guiding her to cup herself. Instantly, her fingers go to her clit, and Lloyd snickers. "Yes, you’ve touched. But you haven’t made yourself cum?" 

“Please,” she begs. “It doesn't work. I just … I can’t.”

“Aw, you can’t?” He pouts along with her in mock sympathy. “Well what've you tried, babygirl? Maybe you're just not doin' it right."

"Nnngh." She bites her lip and stares down at their joined hands with flushed cheeks. "I don't ... I dunno, please."

He releases her hand and pushes it out of the way. "See, that's what you need a man like me for. Too desperate to figure out how to make that itch go away by yourself. Poor, confused little thing." She makes an angry sound in protest, but it's easily subdued by another firm grab and press of her hips down into the blankets. He snickers at her token outrage. "Shh. That's alright, Blossom, that's alright. Just one more first I get to give you. I’m looking forward to it." He gives the waistband of her panties another kiss. "Girls aren't like boys, you know. You don't just wake up one morning, pulling at your pud. It's more complicated than that. You have to learn what feels good, learn how to get yourself worked up." He looks up her body and offers her a tender smile. "That's why it's important to have a teacher, Sweetpea. Someone who knows these things, someone who can guide you."

She sniffles. "You can?"

"Sure I can. Here, let's try a few things, why don't we? See what sorts of touches you like." He wants to rip her panties off yesterday, but forces himself to remember the plan of taking things slow and savoring every moment. He's only going to get to do this once, after all. So he waits for her barely-there nod, and then grasps the top edge of the panties right over that obscene little fucking peapod, and gives a jostle, gently tug-tug-tugging the fabric up against her mound, pulling it just enough to get the seam angled over her clit. 

She gasps at the sensation, a surprised little "oh!" escaping her lips.

Lloyd hums. “S'that feel good, Sweetheart?"

"Nnnh."

"Hmm. Yeah. You like a little gentle pressure like that? Are you a glancing touch kind of gal?" A few more exploratory, barely-there tugs and he can tell that she is, even though she clearly has no concept of what that means. He drops the panties and lets his fingers trail along the crease of her thigh, relishing every twitch and shiver he gets from her.

Somebody has waxed her bare beneath the fabric, and Lloyd sneers in distaste and purposefully doesn’t let himself think about why that is. "Oh, yes," he says when he sees that the wet spot on her panties has grown. "You like to be teased." She keens in protest, though she's thankfully past the point of outright denying the obvious. Lloyd rewards her with a press of his face against her crotch, inhaling and letting his nose dig into her clit from over the fabric. “Mmhm. Slickin’ right through your panties.”

"Oh!" Her hands suddenly appear in his hair, scrabbling, clutching. “Oh, oh no …”

He laughs a hot breath right against her cunt. "That's okay, Princess. That's good. I like that you���re sensitive.” He gives her one last kiss from over the underwear and then curls his fingers into the waistband. “Wanna take these off?"

"Nnoo," she moans, while doing absolutely nothing to stop him as he pulls them off her.

He eases them down her legs, gently shushing and praising her for her obedience when she lets him settle his shoulders back in between her legs after tossing the panties aside.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs, hooking one hand under her thigh to push and make room, the other sliding over her soft belly. He tugs her closer to his face, inhaling her scent and groaning at finally getting to see her.

One good thing about a bare pussy: there’s no hiding the state of it.

"Blossom," he breathes. "Look at you. You're soaked." 

She is. The delicate petals of her sex are already spread and slicked, puffy and swollen with arousal. He groans and lets his tongue dart out for a quick taste, reveling in the sweet tang of her, the way that she gasps and her belly tenses underneath his hand. She’s trembling, squirming, trying so hard not to hump up against his face, not to make noise even though it’s obviously what she wants to do. “It’s okay,” he tells her, dipping down for another long lick through her folds, nudging her clit with his nose, his mustache.

“Ohn!” she cries, but the sound cuts off into a desperate yelp at the end as she tries to silence herself. "Nnnh!" 

He makes an admonishing grunt where he’s got his face buried against her. “Hey,” he snaps, when he glances up and sees her fingers in her mouth. He knocks her hand away. “Quit it.”

“I’m not! I’m—” 

He hauls her in harshly and sucks her clit into his mouth until it elicits the squeal he was looking for, a tortured little ‘ognfuck!’ that comes from deep in her belly. He pops off with a satisfied growl. “There. Like that. That’s better.” He softens his tone when she whimpers and kisses the hood of her clit. “It’s okay to enjoy it, Petal. I know it feels good. So stop trying to hold it in, okay? You gotta let me hear you.”

“Please,” she whispers, eyes shining down at him. Fuck, the tears are back. “Please, please,”

“Please what, Princess?”

“Nnn! I – I need …”

Aaand her voice is back to warbling and overwhelmed, prompting Lloyd to grind his dick against the mattress just for a little fucking relief. This girl is sweet in every fucking way imaginable, and now she’s trembling and welling up with tears again, just the way he loves to see. Only this time it’s not in fear. She’s finally losing control of herself enough to let go and open up—unfurling for him, just like the flower he knew she was.

“Tell me, Petal,” he murmurs, tickling her with his mustache again. “C’mon. Tell me. Tell me what you need to cum. Do you even know?”

“Please, nngh, please …” 

He nuzzles her clit and laps languorously at her drenched slit, over and over, proactively tightening his hold on her hips so that he doesn’t get his nose broken when she inevitably starts bucking. “Ohn … god!”

“Mmm hmph,” he hums, having ventured out to start giving her jabs with his tongue, forcing the muscle into her quivering little gash, over and over, teaching her what a good tongue fucking really feels like. “Mmm, mmmph.” 

“Oh, please, ohn!” Her hands clamor through his hair, messing it up as she sobs and jerks, trying to get more of his tongue in her cunt. Lloyd can’t help laughing a little bit over it, breathless and turned on by how easy she is. He goes back to suckling on her clit for a moment or two, before easing off and peering up her heaving belly with a smug grin. “So sensitive,” he coos, holding her down when she thrashes in embarrassment. “Stop, stop,” he chides, laughing, climbing back up her body and pinning her beneath his full weight. 

Her legs spread for him without conscious thought, welcoming him in even as she’s still making her angry little huffs and puffs for being teased. He kisses her, amused, forcing his tongue inside to give her a taste of her own arousal. “And that was just my mouth,” he purrs, bringing a hand up to grope at one of those fat little breasts. “Was barely even inside you. Just think about what it’ll feel like with my fingers, my cock. You want that?” 

She cries out when he plucks her nipple. She shakes her head. “Nnn.”

“What? 'Nnn'? S’that s’posed to be a no?”

“Nnnh. Yes.”

He laughs. “Aw, Cupcake. I already told you I’m gonna treat you real nice, make you feel good. Now why you gotta lie to me?” He lets his hand slip down between them, cupping her between her legs. “Does this feel like a no? Hmm?” She whimpers and he smiles and shakes his head. “No, it doesn’t, does it? Mm mn.”

She’s mewling and grinding up against the pressure of his hand despite her stupid little protests, so he hums and slips a finger down through her folds, lets the tip of it tease at her entrance. Fuck, she’s wet. “Never had anything in here?” he asks, already knowing the answer before she gives another pathetic whimper and shakes her head.

“Just … just tampons.”

“Tampons, huh?” He dips the tip of his finger, in and out, gut clenching as he feels it mouthing at him, feels all that slick. “When’s the last time you bled?” he asks. He’ll grab a condom if he needs to, but he’d rather not need to. “Hm? Come on now, don’t lie to me.”

She won’t meet his eyes, but after enough coaxing she admits that she had her period just a day ago. Lloyd nods, glad that he doesn’t have to worry about protection. Not that it isn’t fun to fantasize about knocking such a sweet little thing up, but that’s not the itch he’s scratching right now. It'll be a treat just getting to watch her bloat with his seed, before that creampie slides right back out. “Okay, then, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, finger still teasing softly right at the edge of her entrance. “I want you to look at me, girl. Want you to look right in my eyes, and relax for it.” He brushes his lips across hers. “I promise this isn’t gonna hurt.”

He eases his finger in, and the tiny little ‘oh’ and relieved sigh she gives up as he does it, is everything. Her wide eyes meet his, blinking. “Lloyd.”

“Yeah.”

“I … I …” 

“Relax, Blossom.” Lloyd’s got big fingers, and she’s clamped down tight as fuck from her nerves, but she’s so fucking wet that it doesn’t even matter, his finger slipping in past the knuckle until it’s all the way seated. Her searing heat envelops him and presses onto his palm, bringing that destructive, sexual urge bubbling right back up to the surface of his mind. 

She’s the purest thing he’s ever touched, this soft, tearful, quivering creature in his hands. He’s never felt such lust and violence at the same time. He desperately needs to ruin her … and yet somehow, also desperately, he needs to make sure he doesn’t hurt her. 

A single, overwhelmed tear breaks from her eye and tracks down her temple, disappearing into her hair. Lloyd’s mouth all but waters at the sight of it, but she doesn’t seem to notice it, too preoccupied with the feeling of him inside of her body. She’s teetering right on the precipice between terrified and fascinated as she learns this new touch, and Lloyd could bust a nut just watching it.

“Good girl,” he praises, letting his palm cup her sex as he keeps his finger buried and starts to give her gentle, gentle pulses. “See? Didn’t I tell you?”

To his utter delight, she exhales shakily and nods. “Yeah,” she whispers, biting her lip and looking down her own body to where he’s touching her. “Yeah. I … it's ... you’re …" Her eyes slam shut as his finger curls. "Oh god.”

“You’re okay. Look at me.” He rocks his hand more, giving her pressure through the heel of his hand and dragging over that soft spot inside. "Look at me, Petal."

It takes her a moment, but she manages, peeking up at him with her brow pinched and moaning softly, her hips juddering up into it. 

Lloyd smiles, lines up another finger, and soaks up her expression as he plucks off that next petal.

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[janicekao]

No, Fuck You!

Pairing: Richie Jerimovich x Black oc (dark smut) Summary: Based off of season one of the series "The Bear." Carmen Berzatto, a culinary expert has to put his career on hold after his brother Michael's su1c1de being that Michael left the family's restaurant in Carmy's name. The restaurant is busted, in debt, and the staff is hardheaded. Carmy's "cousin" Richie is especially hardheaded. He's 45, doesn't like change in the restaurant, dabbles in illegal side hustles, thinks he's Italian, acts ghetto af, his attitude sucks, he's always cussing, and he is just a lot to deal with it. My addition to the story is an OC young lady who is hired at the restaurant to help with the finances and how badly her And Richie bump heads... until of course, they don't! Warnings: age gap, profanity, vi0lence, smut, fan fiction, public s3x,cr3am pi3, office siren aesthetic, submissive male, toxic, bwwm, fanfic, the bear, quickie, etc. 4038 words I also recommend viewing the story in Wattpad where I was able to use 20 photos in the story instead of tumblr's 10. Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 ------------------------------

It's a chilly winter morning in Chicago, and instead of sleeping in snuggly in his warm bed, Richie Jerimovich pulls into his job smoking an early morning ciggie with his suspended license in the pocket of his jeans.

Having trouble sleeping at night pure usual, Richie decides to pop into his job at a restaurant called The Beef two hours early before opening... Before there is even daylight. Although he yawns, he'd rather work instead of staring up at his bedroom ceiling thinking about how his wife is divorcing him, his daughter is growing up without her dad, and how he hardly has enough money to make his own rent next week... Richie enters through the back door of the restaurant and takes off his favorite leather jacket as he places it in his locker.

He grabs his uniform, a white apron and his favorite Tshirt with "The Beef" plastered across the right corner of the fabric.

Staring into the tiny and incredibly dirty locker sized mirror, he takes his gold chain from the inside of his shirt and dangles it on the outside of it. He smooths down his uncombed hair and prickly beard as he begins to chuckle cockily at his reflection. "You suave motherfucker you."

As Richie closes the door of his locker, he nearly jumps out of his skin... Spooked suddenly by the new girl who quietly stands behind his locker.

"Fucking hell!" He complains. "Lexie? Do I need to put a fucking bell on you or something? Don't ever sneak up on me! Make yourself known when you walk into a building!"

"Or what?" She instigates. "You'll pop me with that stupid fucking gun you lug around the restaurant with?"

"Yeah, maybe!" He scoffs. "Maybe I fucking will! And before you start, don't give me shit about the fact that I carry heat on me! If you were smart, you'd care a little pussy-pink magnum in your purse... walking around Chicago like you're untouchable, are you fucking insane?"

Lexie rolls her eyes.

"All I'm saying is make yourself known when you walk in here." He continues. "You got me?"

Lexie widens her stance as if Richie who is nearly a foot taller than her couldn't bench press her weight if he felt like it. "No, fuck you! You are the one who should make yourself known... I've been here long before you have."

He becomes even more short-tempered... "Sweetie, I've been here before you were even born!"

"I am speaking of this morning!" Lexie continues. "I thought you were some hobo breaking in through the back... But, it seems that I wasn't too far off."

"Fuck you. Why are you even here?" Richie wouldn't be Richie without furthering an argument. "You can't count the receipts up during your shift?! O-Or complete the payroll from your own fucking house!?"

Lexie's fists tighten. "If it were up to me, your greasy ass wouldn't even be on the payroll."

Richie chuckles... a laugh that fills Lexie with rage. "Well good thing it isn't up to you!"

"Now sign my check and hand it here." He grabs at her arm full of paperwork.

"Not until Friday!" Gritting her teeth, Lexie snatches away with all of her might. "If you're so broke, try being more charming to the customers and maybe you could take home some nice tips at night!"

She continues. "—BUT! Welcoming a customer inside by calling him 'the man with the golden dick' will get you nothing! I mean, seriously Richie?!

Richie had no idea Lexie pays so much attention to how he speaks to his regulars everyday... He feels that the people of Chicago love his charm and personality... Hell!— Arrogantly, he even believes that they come to The Beef just to see him!

Richie becomes offended. "Okay, first off— fuck you, and secondly— that's the best compliment a man could ever get!"

Lexie rolls her eyes once more before she turns to leave him.

—But, Richie just doesn't know how to quit. "Listen princess you're not here to teach us etiquette okay!? I seriously don't get why they hired you, Carmy's sister Sugar does all the paperwork here anyways!"

Lexie turns around, coming back to the argument as she reddens and continues to shout. "Because Sugar has a full time job and a husband, Richie! She can't spend all her time in this dump going through paperwork full of dust mites!"

"Fine, then why are you here at 4am?" Richie folds his arms, leaning against the lockers to stop Lexie from walking away. "I can't believe they gave you a fucking key."

"The feeling's mutual." Lexie nudges his forehead with her fingertips. "Giving you a key is as responsible as handing it to a bum on the metro. Now get out of my way!"

"You don't need to get nasty young lady." Richie's jaw clenches. He becomes terribly annoyed that the new girl can actually keep up with his banter— and the fact that she might just be better at it. "Take it back."

Lexie grins sarcastically. "Fuck you."

He flips her off. Using his fingertips under his chin, his favorite gesture when he's already said 'fuck you' enough.

She rolls her eyes. "As if I don't see you do that a thousand times a day. Grow up Richie! You're such a fucking child."

Wanting to leave the locker room, Lexie can't help but become curious as well.

"My turn." She insists, placing her items in an opened locker. "Now, why are you here?"

...

Richie gulps... He rather not talk about the stress of his life with a girl he swears is the worst investment the restaurant has ever made...

He came to work to clear his head, not to express to some chick that he feels like a forty-five year old deadbeat with no purpose in life.

"I dunno— checking... supplies and shit." He lies.

"No..." Lexie doesn't buy it. "I am here checking supplies for a list of our expenses and doing some budgeting—"

"BUDGETING!?" Richie explodes on his last straw. "Okay fuck this, you twenty-something-year olds have already changed the budget ten times!!! How much more money do we need to save!? The restaurant has already cut out so many classic dishes from the menu and now you're gonna cut back more!?"

"Yes! And if you're so concerned about how much money we bring in, try selling more sandwiches instead of eating them all fucking day!" Lexie blinks her long lashes sarcastically, making Richie fume even more and lose all of his patience.

"Damn it! I've had it with you!" Standing over Lexie, Richie begins to threaten her with a strong finger point into her face. "I have tried to be a gentleman, but you've taken me up to here!" He hovers his hand high above his head, expressing that her attitude has got him through the fucking roof.

"First of all..." Richie continues as he immaturely picks at her looks. "—You look fucking ridiculous! Coming into The Beef looking like a fucking principal in a tight fucking pencil skirt! Put on a Tshirt, and get elbow deep in some fucking grease! That's what we need! Not some Mary Poppins-fucking-secretary!"

"It's called business casual." She chuckles. "And as if we need some forty-five year old washup who leaves cigarettes everywhere, and smokes a pack a day!"

"You can't cook, you can't clean, and money comes up short every time you work the registers!"

"Fuck you, liar!" Becoming so unbelievably heated, strained veins of tension stands out of his neck each time he shouts. "I'd never mooch from this place! This place is my home, my family!"

"No?" She tilts her head in curiosity. "Well, what about you selling coke out of the back alley too! What would you call that!?"

"LABOR AND INVESTMENT." He shouts. "I'm making ends meet for this shit-hole because someone has to do it when the money gets fucking low! Tell me sweetheart, how the fuck do you think this place survived during Covid??? ME!"

...

Richie begins to insult her under his breath. "Maybe if your brains were half as big as your fat ass you'd understand better."

"EXCUSE ME!?" Lexie loses her calm.

For a moment there, she was able to keep up with Richie's attitude in a professional manner... However now, her fist down his throat would look pretty good to her.

Richie doesn't repeat himself...

"No! Fucking go ahead!" Lexie argues and begins to push against him, antagonizing a coming fight and nudging him for more. "You want to talk shit, then let's talk shit!"

"What are you doing? Now you wanna fucking fight me tough guy?" Richie rolls his eyes. "Listen, you're pressing your tits on me, you need to back off before we have a problem"

"YOU ARE THE FUCKING PROBLEM!!" Lexie lets out her true feelings of hatred towards him. "Do you know how smoothly this restaurant could run without you constantly aggravating someone!? You stress Carmy out every fucking day! I don't understand why he doesn't just fucking fire you already!"

She continues. "Name one day Richie, ONE DAY that you haven't aggravated someone over their limits with your constant bullshit?"

He scoffs. "It's because you fucking Chicago-gentrifying-fucking-millennials are pussies!!! No backbone!! Upset over everything. You, Carmy, and Sydney!"

"For someone who isn't good at shit, you sure are good at pissing people off!" Lexie continues to bark. "For Christ sake! Sydney stabbed you the other day in your ass for being such a prick!"

Embarrassed with his known behavior, Richie refuses to meet Lexie in her dagger like dark brown eyes.

"Syd said it was an accident..."His voice becomes meek like a baby.

"I wouldn't blame her if it wasn't!" Lexie shouts.

So used to being the one who annoys everyone else, Richie gets a taste of his own medicine as he continues to be annoyed by Lexie's presence. "Why the fuck were you even hired Lexie!? To keep up with the books and money because you're in Chicago's fucking community college taking up a finance class?"

He laughs. "We don't need you here! You're probably just fucking Carmy, aren't you!?"

...

The insult goes too far... Lexie winds her hand back and slaps Richie clean across the face.

His cheek heats red, yet he was raised to never lay a finger back on a woman. "Fine." He gulps. "I probably deserved that."

Her large brown eyes eat away at his heart as Richie notices the comment humiliated her into making tears form and glass over at the surface of her eyes.

"God damn right you deserved it." Lexie holds back her tears and ill intentions to cause Richie serious bodily harm.

Little does she know, in Richie's own sick and twisted way, he only brought it up because he's curious if she's already been snatched up by some other guy on the staff. Because if he had the chance, maybe he'd even be interested in her himself...

But he's sure no uppity bitch like Lexie would even look in his direction.

"This is what I mean." She scoffs. "You're disrespectful, and you're a piece of shit who just causes arguments."

Richie rolls his eyes. "And I always finish them too! So what the fuck do you want to do about it?"

...

The wrong thing to say to a woman who is suddenly about to lose herself. Lexie instantly shoves him against the locker... causing the metal material to ring and bang out loudly.

He gulps, fearing that the young cutie has been pushed far past her limits and that he's about to get his ass kicked.

"Okay, that was all you that time. I didn't say shit to you to deserve that!" Richie argues, attempting to strike fear in her heart. "But you listen... If you put your fucking hands on me again, I swear to god—"

"That you'll do what?!" Lexie entices.

Although comically smaller than the large man, she yanks him down to the wooden locker bench before them. "Sit down!"

He surrenders with his hands held high. "Okay baby chill, you're losing your shit right now, you need to take a chill—"

She grips his face as she stands over him. "DO YOU EVER JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!?"

A question that Richie knows not to answer...

Lexie finds herself staring at the pink puckered lips within her grasp and her thoughts become insane.

A glimmer in both of their eyes immediately changes the tension in the room into something far more worth the adrenaline.

Lexie slips out of the panties beneath her short pencil skirt...

"What— what are you doing?" Richie mumbles as his middle-aged heart beats harder than it ever has.

"Occupying your mouth to keep it from running so fucking much." Her panties slip down off of her heels and into Richie's lap as she tugs a brutal grip onto his short strands of hair... With her grip, Lexie forces Richie's head back and his mouth open as she places her cunt across his tongue.

Shocked and confused, Richie puts in work anyway. His tongue glides through her folds that surprisingly have slicked during their entire morning spent arguing and he begins to devour her pussy... A cunt so fresh, fat, warm, and half of his age.

The baritoned groans of his voice heat her core like nothing she has ever felt before. Lexie instantly grabs hold onto Richie's shoulders before her weakening knees begin to fail her.

Her eyebrows furrow as she begins to sweetly complain. "Oh fuck Richie..."

Glad to see that Richie's mouth has a better use than just arguing, Lexies squeals lightly as her eyes roll backwards in pleasure. She continues to fuck his face and be teased sweetly by his prominent nose, prickly unshaven face, and wildly fat tongue.

Richie becomes painfully aroused within his jeans. He moans into her cunt as his strong fingers grip at her waist tightly, bringing her closer across his face so his tongue can explore the depths of her flesh even further.

Blessed, yet confused, he begins to pause during his every word from suckling and gently kissing on her tasty mound. "What—the fuck—" He continues. "Are we—doing?"

Lexie squeezes her eyes tightly shut, almost orgasming each time she notices his sky-blue eyes staring up at her.

She bites her lip. "Just don't stop."

Richie hums through her pussy. "Mmm, Okay baby, I won't not til you tell me too."

Hands beginning to reach up her hips to cup at her waist, Lexie's mouth hangs open ajar... infatuated with how his strong fingers nearly double over the tiny measurements of her waist. Richie's grip on her is so powerful, forcing her not to run from his probing tongue and the lewd suckling and squelching that sound sloppily between her thighs.

Her legs begin to shake... Richie feasts on her as if his job depends on it.

She drags her full bottom lip between her teeth, begging for mercy as her core tightens with butterflies. "Mmmm'oh my god!" She whines.

Looking towards the dusty clock in the kitchen that hasn't been cleaned in years, Lexie realizes how close it is to the beginning of everyone's shift... morning prep.

Although time is almost out, she refuses to finish without having Richie put in more work and hammer her with cock.

"Get up. She demands. "Fuck me."

Lexie watches as Richie stands and tears off his apron to get to his pants.

Inside his trousers, Richie reveals a handsome ten inch cock. Veins protruding and swollen hard as it stands erect towards his belly button, Lexie can't wait to have the peach toned dagger deep into her guts. She begins to grin, glad to have trusted her instincts about skinny, tall men, who aren't worth shit. Although maybe not material for a husband, always trust that they'll have a cock big and gorgeous enough that it makes it worth the price of dealing with the constant bullshit that comes along with it.

Lexie wraps her legs around Richie's waist as he unbuttons her top and kisses at her neck and the fullness of her breasts that bulge from out of the top of her bra.

He lifts her against the lockers with clear impatience as he reaches beneath her to direct his cockhead into her flesh.

She coos sweetly. The tip of his erection, bulbous and hot as it lubes itself through the lips of her cunt, sliding backwards until it meets her tight, however inviting opening. She hisses as Richie slowly bucks forward, sheathing himself into her body.

"Jesus, Lexie."He groans out. His member being choked perfectly by her tight pussy.

Richie's many inches continue to dig forward until his hips are flushed against hers. She winces in pain as she tucks her forehead into the crook of his neck.

Richie softly hushes her stress, kissing sweetly at the parts available on her pretty little face. "Just hold onto my neck, okay?"

Lexie agrees through a quickened nod. She wraps her arms around his neck, wincing as the strokes begin.

Richie pulls out half way and slowly returns back fully into her core for his first impale. The two synchronize in a lewd and guilty first moan.

Richie picks up his speed, hips beginning to snap against her spread opened thighs as her pussy sops sticky and wet for him.

Lexie weeps soft tears as she gets railed by someone that she loathes with her entire being.

As her breasts bounce and spill from out of her dress shirt, hair tangling from what was a perfect blowout this morning, she soon realizes that nothing could be more delicious than early morning hate sex.

Richie watches beneath them at how well the little minx can take his cock, her sweet begging and the banging of the old lockers up against them encouraging him to go stronger and make her take his cream.

He stares at her lips, trying his best not to kiss them being that he still is so confused on where they stand... not even fifteen minutes ago, he was a second away from getting his ass kicked by her, and now suddenly... he finds himself balls deep between her legs.

He gulps. "Tell me what you want."

"For you to shut the fuck up." Panting for air, Lexie's brain becomes mush and only wanting to think about their sex.

He chuckles softly, complimenting her under his breath. "You're so fucking beautiful..."

"Yes mama, I'll shut the fuck up." He obeys. "Now what else do you want?"

"Drill me." Her eyes become low and sinister like a siren, full of sinful desire and without any shame. "Fuck me harder."

He nods. "Whatever you want."

Lexie clenches tightly around his shaft as Richie suddenly picks up a dangerous speed, spasming and slapping into her cunt as if she needed to be disciplined.

Now fucked out of her heels, her toes curl within her stockings. She begins to push on his slim and toned stomach for space between them.

—but Richie won't allow it. "Move your fucking hands." He shoves them away.

Her cunt pulses around him. Brain circuit-shorting as she gets embarrassingly used like a cock sleeve by one of the most unrespectable men of this job.

Yet, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Her whimpers become strangled, lips wet with drool.

"Look at you." Richie teases as the corners of his mouth begin to quirk. "Talk so much shit all morning long, but get real quiet with a cock in you."

"Mmm." He continues, skin hot and flushed as he tries to talk himself away from cumming. "You like this shit baby?"

A sudden slow pace blows Lexie's mind as Richie's lower abdomen knocks into her sensitive pearl. The feeling sends her to the moon.

Her nails dig into Richie's forearms as her walls contract around him, pulling his cock deeper inside awaiting to drain him of all his cum.

Richie's jaw goes slack, hips locking in place as he lunges further into Lexie's pussy until their bodies are flushed together.

A choked groan exits the depths of his throat. "Oh my fucking—"

Lexie covers Richie'a mouth as she hears keys and morning conversation outside of the restaurant near the front entrance.

Richie's cock twitches as it sputters out with hot cum. Filling Lexie's cunt with his spend until it begins to web around him.

His pleads and moans are terribly loud as she uses a second hand over the first to silence him.

Lexie's eyes roll backwards as she bites her lip, enjoying the thrill of being stuffed with cum as he throbs and becomes limp inside of her.

"Richie..." she gulps, whispering tiredly. "You'll have to keep quiet."

...

Eyebrows furrowed as he becomes hooked on the sound of her soft and tired after-sex voice, he'll do whatever she asks him to.

He nods, obeying as a good boy does however nearly biting his tongue off to silence himself as she takes her hands away. "Fucking hell Lexie... Goddamn baby."

He finally calms from his explosive climax, helping Lexie to her feet as they quickly begin to redress.

Stunned, Richie can't help but to watch her (mostly in love) as she places the heels back onto her feet to continue about her day.

Still alone near the lockers, they hurry to prep themselves before the crew comes inside in a few seconds.

"Jesus!" Richie laughs in excitement. "That was the best fuck I've had in—in, well fuck! In my whole fucking life."

Lexie rolls her eyes as he becomes giddy like a schoolboy.

With romance on his mind, Richie nearly begins to plan a day for her to meet his mother, hell— a day for them to marry! "Listen, babygirl, there's this incredible Italian spot on West Avenue, let me take you out—"

"Richie, please. Just shut up." Lexie ignores him as she quickly rebuttons her top and grabs her belongings from the locker.

...

He frowns, suddenly becoming furious.

"Alright wait a minute!" Richie refuses. "I just gave you a raw fuck in the back of the locker room and now I'm getting the cold shoulder? Are you my girl or what?"

Lexie scoffs.

"Fucking old guys..."She sighs in a quiet whisper, speaking mostly to herself. "Give em pussy once and they get all clingy."

Their arguing comes back at full speed. "It's not old guys you little fucking slut! It's called class, and respect! I wanted to take you out. Lexie, what the fuck do you even want with me?"

"Exactly what we had." She shrugs.

"What?" He lashes back. "I piss you off and then you go all horny she-devil on me and fuck my brains out?"

Lexie freezes in thought. "...yes"

Richie can't believe what he's hearing.

He scoffs, beginning to laugh in disbelief. "You're bugging. You're fucking insane, you know that?"

Lexie sighs as she continues to hurry from what they just committed. "I like things to be simple, okay? Did you enjoy it or not?"

Richie rolls his eyes. Pissed as if he's been used like a two cent whore. "Of course I did, fuck you Lexie.Don't ask me no stupid shit like that, you know I did."

Out of breath as the door chimes begin to ring up front, Lexie smiles softly. "Good! So you just be Richie, I'll be Lexie, and maybe we'll do it again sometime."

"Understand?" She questions, setting boundaries with Richie who is clearly a romantic.

...

He pauses.

Lexie sighs. "Do I need to ask again?"

"No." He pouts, spoiled from a taste of good pussy.

"Good." Lexie nods and grins tightly as if they just shook hands over a business deal before she begins to walk away.

"Hey." Richie grabs her. "Wait. —Kiss me."

"I'm not going to kiss you." Lexie tugs at his grasp, yet she isn't able to get out of it.

He bears over her... forcing her eyes upon him as he demands for what he wants. "Damn it Lexie, I'm not asking. Kiss me before I start making a fucking scene in here."

...

Lexie rolls her eyes, knowing that denying him of this isn't worth outing what they've done together.

"Fine." She gives in.

Placing his hands at her waist, Richie pulls her against him. His right hand reaches towards her face where he watches her closely... sweetly brushing her baby hairs out of his view. The hand softly cups the side of her face... wide enough to caress her jaw and neck as he forces her unto her toes to meet his lips.

Their lips finally meet... And the kiss is unbelievably tender... Quickly expanding into something more as their mouths open and tongues tangle.

Richie presses her tighter towards him, hand now trailing from her waist to a smack and grip onto her ass. The other hand leaves her cheek to his digits pulling tightly at her long black tresses.

Their eyes continue to stay closed as their moans heat each other's mouths. Tongue fucking each other with more heat than their actual sex...

Lexie finds herself breath taken and begging for more as Richie pulls away with an intoxicating sexy bite and pull to her bottom lip.

Her eyes soon flutter open.. She gulps, unsure to why it was the most romantic kiss that she has ever had.

Richie grins as he notices the stunning blush that begins to heat her face.

"Now..." Richie bites his lip as he continues to stare at her beauty, smoothing her hair and tucking it behind her ears. "Now you can go."

Unsure of the butterflies in her stomach, she stares into Richie's eyes and slowly nods.

Slightly mad at herself for feeling a growing crush, she can't believe that it is what she's thinking it is... Hell!— She'd even have to beat her own ass if she were to begin falling for Richie Jerimovich...

"I-I have to go now." Lexie gulps.

"Mhm." He nods. "Have an excellent day, sweetie."

She stumbles lightly over her feet, still high off of Richie's kiss and he quietly begins to chuckle.

He's got her right where he wants her. Although Lexie claims to not want anything serious, he's determined to convince her otherwise.

The crew finally begins to pour inside and Richie wishes everyone a good morning.

He loves his job... He loves his family here.

A team of hard working Chicago locals, just trying to make it through day by day. Real people working real jobs.

The Beef is Richie's home. And if things go right... One day, Lexie could be that too.

As Carmy readies himself for the day and prepares himself to run a business he never expected to own... He shouts, wanting a minute alone with his cousin Richie as they dap each other up while they greet.

"Aye good morning, talk to me for a sec Cousin..." Carmy begins. "Listen Richie, when you and Michael began hiring for the restaurant, you hired people who quickly became like family. You have a knack for this Richie, and I trust your judgement."

Carmy continues. "I wanted to ask you, what do you think about this new girl on the books? Yeah, she's saved us a lot of money and things are running smooth as shit... but is she one of us? Can she keep up with the crew?"

Richie shrugs.

Reaching into the pockets of his jeans, his fingers rustle the lace fabric of Lexie's thong that he kept as a souvenir from their early morning quickie before the break of dawn.

The thought of their morning together alone suddenly makes Richie's heart flutter and eats wildly at his soul...

"Yeah." He gulps. "She's a fucking bitch... but yeah, she's one of us. She's part of the family."

"So fuck it... she stays?" Carmy asks.

Richie chuckles. "Yeah.. if we're lucky."

A delivery man pops inside the restaurant as they continue to chat and Carmy signs a form on the man's clipboard before the man leaves again.

"What was that for?" Richie yawns. "Ordered more napkin supply or some shit."

"Nope! All good on supplies." Carmy pats Richie on the back. "Just signing the invoice on the security cameras we had installed last week."

...

A chill suddenly falls down Richie's spine.

He looks up at the ceiling, noticing the new cameras installed in every corner of the restaurant. The entrance, the counter, the kitchen, and the fucking locker room.

Richie freezes in absolute horror. "Oh fuck."

[xxxmathildaxxx]

[poet-to-none]

So it's been Then Shall Change Red: Chapter 2 writing week! (Not to imply it will take only a week).

And if the memes missed you (#tscr au), the summary is I'm EMOTIONAL about it.

I post on occasion how intense researching has been, and it's true, but I've spent my time laying face down in the dirt being dead as well. The cycle must go on to rebirth eventually.

A month ago, someone began to ask me all kinds of wonderful questions in DMs, about Magnus, and then a week ago Sam Reid gave my bsu-tscr project a shout out. I'm reeling from both, and I need to thank others who've been encouraging and supporting too.

The chapter's opening lines are here, and it's my pleasure to share them.

"Heeding pangs. Sunrise now. Flesh about to petrify, senses obliterate, thinking die. We lay safe, he and I, marriage final. Ingression final.

It becomes amative, caressing. 

What a mistake I would have made.

My body belongs to his, in decay. It will create the new. 

I close my hand around that hand o’er my breast, and I hear him weep. My sweet boy. I'm here.

Fate’s done with you its way, Magnus.

Sleeping death stills my all, even what ought give dreams.

Yet no.

A light's knife cuts the bowels of my darkness, the blazing tides under my athanor spill out to me.

Inside vaulted bricks and ashes, where blood’s stained. . .my emptied womb awaits. . .containing illumination and memory, the miracle of a dream. 

How long I’ve asked for a dream! Since the catacombs begot me in a blood red ending of day, eternal!"

Manuscript Image Source: "Rosary of the Philosophers". 1550. Solothurn, Zentralbibliothek, Cod. S I 185, fol. 110r-121r

[corruptcuntboy]

Hehe the shorts I'm wearing are nice and loose, so when I sit with my legs spread my little boycunt is on display, for some reason it turns me on more than wearing no bottoms at all 🫣😖

[sparkleejumppropeequeennn]

Being a hopeless romantic in a world of hookup is sad

[bugwolfsstuff]

I find it funny how my version of Travis stoll is the most fucked up, angsty and complex character ever

And Connor is just: Gay, ace, hangs with Drew and Lacy and has no fucking clue about the state of Travis's mental state (it's not good)