#im here to wind YALL IM waiting for blue in the replies

[vicstenius]

Laila Harbert IS bigger than united BTW

[myusuchaa]

Moonflower - Rafayel x AFAB

༄ wc: 1048

༄ third person pov | no spoilers | based on Abysswalker myth and Abysswalker Journey Seeker card

༄ content warnings: princess/royalty roleplay, flirty banter, outdoor suggested intimacy, romance, fluff

༄ a/n: this is the part 2 to the mini abysswalker fic series! you can read part 1 here. hehe i had fun writing this one too, actually i struggled to keep it short, i knew i wanted a quick fic but i felt like i could just keep on going!! there's just something about him in his e-boy all leather look ahhh.... ૮⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝ ა im still thinking about making a part 3?? hope yall enjoy! (creative format posted as pictures under text below)

moonflower

The next evening, Rafayel arrived at the palace just as the blue sky lazily gave way to hints of peach and orange, allowing reprieve from the glaring heat. He let her know of his presence by using his tall figure to cast a shadow against the pond outside her balcony, a sight she had been anticipating all day. His dark outline on the water’s surface seemed to calm the ripples, as if the very thought of him allowed her to float endlessly. 

She hurriedly gathered her belongings and ran down the spiral staircase that led into the garden where he waited. 

“You really came for me,” she said breathlessly. Whether it was from leaping down the staircase or out of pure surprise, he could not tell where her exasperation came from. But the air in her delicate voice ignited a small ember deep within him. 

“We must leave now, we have quite a trek outside of the city tonight. Do you have everything?”

“Yes, I think so…are we actually going to stay out overnight? I’m a bit worried th-”

“Don’t be. I want you to trust that I’ll ensure your safety. Can you do that for me?” 

She paused for a moment, recalling the shadow she had just seen. It seemed to come from within him, as if it wasn’t cast from merely blocking the setting sun. 

Curious, she replied, “I’ll trust you more if you can answer some questions for me.” 

Grabbing her wrist gently as he walked in front, he glanced back and smiled coyly. “I may have the answers, it depends how you ask.” 

That alluring, inviting smile. She moved her gaze from his dark, gemstone eyes to that gorgeous smile. Almost immediately she then looked away, feeling the apples of her cheeks turn red. She wished he had his mask on today. 

By the time they reached their stopping point for the night, the sky had long passed its golden hue. The horizon glowed a deep red, resembling a ruby held up in front of a flame. This warmth was chased by a lush indigo and purple, with the smallest of stars beginning to twinkle at the highest points. Staring at the sky and then back at him, she couldn’t help but find the same colors of the setting sun within his eyes. They were far enough from the main city that if one were to search for them from atop the guarded gates, their bodies would blend seamlessly with the sand dunes. Still, if she held her breath, faint drum beats and flute whistles could be heard, no doubt carried on the wind from the city nightlife. 

“I understand you may not be used to this, uh, this set up.” He gestured to the woven tapestry that was pitched as a makeshift tent, barely thick enough to keep sand out of their eyes.

“Oh, I don’t mind it. Honestly, any change of scenery is very much welcomed.”

“Is that so? Your Highness doesn't mind getting a little rough and dirty outside the city borders?”

“What…what do you mean by that?”

He moved his eyes downward, following her neckline to her waist. It looked provocative, but he merely replied, “You have a bunch of dirt and scratches on your clothes already.” He scoffed. 

Looking down, she could see he was right. Come to think of it, she hasn’t thought of her appearance at all, being too focused on the mystery of his being. She suddenly felt a bit flustered. 

“Useless aesthetics,” she said defensively. “Really, I mean inside the palace, all they care about is for me to be the lovely, pretty princess for the people to fawn over. It’s tiresome.” 

“I suppose they’re just trying to protect their precious flower.” His voice lowered. “Though, I’d like to think I do a better job.” Almost whispering, he approached her. 

The sky filled with more stars, and the shy new moon hid behind low clouds, emitting a dim and feeble light. They sat next to each other now, the cool, desert breeze carrying his warmth and scent. In one graceful movement, sparks danced along his fingertips and landed on some coal he had placed earlier. They smoldered with a strange intensity, similar to the expression on his face. 

“Are you still cold?” he asked, almost apologetically. 

“Not at all, not anymore,” she felt warm in many ways. “How did you even notice I was cold when I’m completely covered in this?” She pointed to her traveler’s outfit, equipped with long sleeves and pants to ward off the eternal sun. 

His sunset eyes darkened to dusk. “I know you because I’m always watching you. I have been, for a long time now. Even if,” he paused for a breath, “even if you don’t remember. It’s my duty to protect you.” 

He sounded pained as he spoke. He wasn’t lying, but he was hiding a terrible truth from her. More than his objective, he was hiding the longing he felt for her. How he wanted to reach out and grab her to make sure she was his. To feel her soft skin under his worn hands. To caress every inch of her. 

“Rafayel…” the heroine felt a shift in his persona. 

“Princess, do you know the meaning of the moonflower?” He moved closer to her, slowly and deliberately. She instinctively lowered onto her elbows, peering up at him as he leaned in. His hair lightly shielded his pleading eyes.

“I, I may have heard of it,” she hoped her eyes returned the impression.

“Ah, did you? Then you must know of its glowing beauty.” 

He covered her completely, her lying all the way down on the blanket and him towering over her, one hand reaching for her cheek, his fingers playing with her eyelashes. The heat from him was so overpowering, she thought he may have been using his flames to embrace her. He brushed his lips against her neck and up to her earlobe. She felt a small bite.

“You must also know that it blooms at night.” His breath became tantalizing as he slid his other hand to her waist belt, undoing it by the time the last word left his lips.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Somewhere in an ocean of sand, a flower bloomed near a radiant flame.

©myusuchaa 2024 do not steal

[heavymetalover]

Call Me Daddy (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

{i imagined scruffy sojourn michael w this one but i left the description kind of open so yall can imagine whichever teehee}

Summary: Michael is about to become your step dad and the two of you have an unusual relationship…

Warnings: DADDY KINK DUH, smut, dirty talk, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!michael, hickies, rough sex.

WC: 5.5k

A/N: ive done the unforgiven… omg.

this is a different format from my other stuff. i didnt see anyone doing this and yall know me and my daddy issues I HAD TO. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE anon me, message me, whatever, if you want more parts cuz im down.

~~~~

 You had an average run-of-the-mill life with your mom. The two of you lived in a sizable suburban Los Angeles estate; your mom worked for most of her waking hours to keep you comfortable and you worked your ass off to stay in your top college. You had a few friends that would pop into your life when your mom left town, a few boyfriends here and there, even your mom dated around. Everything felt normal until Michael came into the picture.

Your mom has been dating Michael for a few months now, but every time he’s around he brings an eerie feeling along with him. Despite being nearly half her age, he has the soul of somebody from the eighteen hundreds. The way he composes himself, how he speaks with the utmost confidence and how his stares linger too long; his glacial blue eyes always watch you like he can see right through your clothes. 

You’ve been skeptical of him since the day you met him. When you shook his hand and accidentally removed one of his large rings, he nonchalantly told you to keep it. You decided to sell the huge diamond-encrusted Cartier ring and use the twenty thousand dollars to help pay for college.

Since then you’ve avoided the two of them in protest of their relationship. You knew it was juvenile to evade them, but the man turned you on more than you’d like to admit. His soft-waved blonde hair, fluffy lips, jawline for days, prominent cheekbones, and how can you forget the eyes… Everything about him looked planned, like he was designed to be flawless.

On a mundane weekend morning, your mom calls you from downstairs. “Y/n!” her voice echoes through the halls.

You stop reading your favourite book and take out an earbud. “Yeah?!” you yell back, looking up from the pages for a moment and waiting for her to say something else, but the house is silent. You pretend to ignore her call and go back to the story.

“Y/n!” your mom yells again.

You sigh and drop your book, rolling off of your bed and skipping down the stairs to see what fresh hell awaits. As you approach your mom, who’s opening her mouth to call you again, you smell something unusual. Something you haven’t smelt since your dad left. Cologne.

“Honey, he’s here,” your mom whispers to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. You try turning away to run back to your room, but your mom stops you. “Can you be nice for once, please?” she begs, squeezing your shoulder.

“Whatever, let’s get this over with,” you groan and shimmy her hand off of your shoulder.  

Michael works at the dining table, setting up three plates and utensils. You’re planted to the ground in awe, you’ve never had to eat dinner with the two of them before. It crosses your mind that they must be confronting you about bypassing them these past few months, your fight or flight response is already kicking in.

Michael looks up at you, finally acknowledging you and capturing you in his ocean blue eyes with a nanosecond of contact. Your mom moves in between the two of you and takes some food out of a paper bag. “Michael and I wanted all of us to eat dinner together,” she skips to stand beside him. You widen your eyes at her and cross your arms in objection. She widens her eyes back, you can practically hear her nagging you to be polite.

Michael puts his arm around your mom. “Your mother and I thought it best for us to… start acting like a family,” he says.

Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t hold back your smile. “A family?” you laugh. You purse your lips and start walking backwards, aching to escape Michael’s spell. “Mmm, I think I’ll pass,” you turn around to start walking away.

“Y/n,” your mom snaps. You stop in the middle of a step and twist back towards them, taking small, reluctant steps to approach their little function. “We have something to tell you,” she says and immediately after, vaults her hand out to you.

You take it hesitantly and look at her, still trying to figure them out and failing. “What?” you ask.

“No, honey, look at it,” she rolls her eyes, “look at my hand.”

You gawk at her hand, her third finger is dressed in a huge diamond ring. It looks big enough to pay off your whole house. You unintentionally let out a dramatic gasp and drop her hand, she continues to hold it up for you. “It’s the bloodiest diamond he could find in the LA area,” she explains, “We’re in love.” She smiles and places her hand on Michael’s chest, looking up at him with hearts in her eyes. He gifts a small kiss on her lips.

You scoff and shake your head. Any tension that you felt from Michael has dissolved. He’s been dating your mom for five months, five fucking months. Who does he think he is? Are they both nuts? “You’re joking, right?” you ask, completely stunned by how brash the whole situation is. “Are you guys pranking me?”

Michael grins at you, it makes you melt and you hate yourself for it. “Call me daddy,” he sneers.

----

It’s a quaint Wednesday evening when you decide to take a break from studying and grab a snack. You’re scrolling through Tumblr when you walk out of your room and smash your face against a sturdy chest. “Jesus!” you gasp, looking up at Michael standing in front of your door; one of his hands is in a fist, ready to knock on your door, while the other is behind his back. “You scared the shit out of me!” You playfully push his chest away from you, trying to shake off the sudden rush of adrenaline.

He drops his fist as he stumbles back slightly. It’s the first time you’ve talked to him since they announced their engagement. Michael moved in about a month ago and it’s been hard to ignore him since he sits, day in day out, typing away on his laptop in your living room.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “But I have to admit it’s nice to hear your voice again.”

You lean against your doorframe, trying to act casual as if he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of you completely. “Did my mom come home from work or something? She send you here?” you ask, declining his attempts to meet your eyes, instead you stare at his lapel.

“No, I got you something,” he explains, wiggling the surprise behind his back.

“Another Cartier ring?” you joke. “Oh, or is it a new girlfriend? Because that would be even better.” His eyes find the ceiling in annoyance and it feels rewarding, you were starting to think he couldn’t be cracked. “Did you get me an apartment, so I don’t have to live with another failed marriage?”

“No,” he snaps back, starting to sound impatient with your infantile attitude. You straighten up at his belligerent tone. He slides into your room, keeping the gift hidden behind his back. “It’s thoughtful, something I know you’d like, but… if you’re hellbent on loathing my existence, why should I be so kind?” he asks. He somehow manages to speak reserved, yet impossibly intimidating. Every word that leaves his lips demands to be heard, it sends chills down your spine. “Right?” he prompts.

You take in a breath. “Right,” you force yourself to agree, mostly because you’re curious to see what the present is. Another part of you is getting bored of acting like a hermit and going days without social interaction. “Obviously it feels weird; I barely know you and you’re becoming my dad and you moved in, everything just seems so fast,” you explain yourself. You saunter back into your room to meet him. “I’ve been a bitch. I’m sorry, Michael. Seriously.”

He takes a step closer to you, you’re only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his body and fight the urge to wrap your arms around him. “We’ll work on ‘Michael’ later,” he replies. You’re about to question what he means by that when he takes the present out from behind his back. He holds a black bag in between the two of you and you immediately recognize the store. “I heard you on the phone with your friend about something red, lacey, with a bow. I think I found it…”

You take the Victoria’s Secret bag from him without saying a word. You have no words to say. You don’t know if you should thank him or refuse the gift or slap him for listening to your personal conversations. Your mind races wondering if you’d gossiped about his good looks on the phone with your friend.

You silently pry open the bag and paw through the lingerie, mountains of cute panties and bras, digging through things you were never able to afford but always wanted. And, of course, Michael bought the red, lacey one piece you were talking about with your friend. There’s a stillness in the room as you look through the bag. “You bought all of this for me?”

“Yeah, I can’t see how your mom would fit into any of those.”

All of the pieces are just your size, it’s the perfect gift… just not from your stepdad. “How did you even know my size?” you stop looking at the bag and make the mistake of falling into his eyes.

“I went through your clothes,” he carelessly shrugs.

You drop the present by your side. “You went through my clothes, like, my lingerie?”

He slowly nods his head, acting as if it isn’t strange for him to invade your privacy how he did. You huff and he begins looking agitated with you again. “Would you like if I returned all this stuff? I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” you mutter and kick the bag away from him, you’re not jeopardizing this gift with your uncontrollable sass.

“Good,” he spits back.

“Just… don’t think you can just buy yourself into the family,” you mock. You catch yourself subconsciously crossing your arms over your chest to give yourself a breast lift, but you don’t stop.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirks. He looks down at your cleavage and it feels like all the air is sucked out of the room. “You have quite the collection of lingerie you keep hidden at the bottom of your drawers,” he observes, “like a dirty guilty pleasure.” You peer up at him, again trying to read him, and again failing. He uses one of his fingers to hook onto the thin fabric of your shirt, your tits are practically pouring out and begging to be the center of attention. He tugs at the fabric, looking under your shirt and inspecting your boobs suffocated in one of your intimate Victoria’s Secret pickups. “Kitten’s all dressed up?” he whispers, his fingertips graze the embroidered details.

You bite your lip, anticipating the second he’ll rip the bra off your chest. “It’s all for you,” you tease, pushing your tits together even more, “I’m always dressed up for you, Michael.”

He breathes in, groaning under his breath. “I thought I told you,” his voice is low and intimidating, “call me daddy.”

You’re drinking in a breath of his cologne, shifting onto the tips of your toes to give his soft lips a rugged kiss, when the sound of keys rattling downstairs takes you out of it. Michael still stares at you, his fingers continue to linger over your clothed tits. “Michael!” your mom calls from downstairs.

You look up at him with fear in your puppy dog eyes and Michael grins. He shoots you one last, knowing, glance before leaving your room. He leaves you without saying two words. “Yeah, babe,” he answers your mom, closing your bedroom door behind him.

What the fuck just happened?

----

Holding back your gags, you grasp your friend’s hair as she projectile vomits peach schnapps into an expensive toilet bowl. Her phone rings in her pocket and you huff, digging through the pockets of the leather jacket you lent her and pulling out a vibrating iPhone. You pick up the phone with an ill “hello”, answering too late and looking down at the screen. She must’ve ordered an Uber a while ago, there’s a ton of notifications that the driver’s outside. “Oh shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Your ride is here!” you yell at her, trying to pull her onto her feet.

“What?!” she yells into the toilet bowl.

You roll your eyes and lean down beside her ear, “I said, your ride is here!” you yell over the thumping music.

Your friend stumbles around, trying to stand up in her six-inch heels. You pull her onto you and her head rests on your shoulder, she goes limp against you. “Stop, come on!” you shout over the music. “You have to g-”

You’re cut off by your friend puking onto an expensive mini dress you bought for tonight’s party. This shindig was supposed to be a fun little escape from your school life, your home life, Michael, all your stress. You expected to make new friends, meet hot guys, but instead you came an hour late and have been nursing your friend the whole night. You’re seriously going to kick her ass tomorrow.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, her breath reeking of throw up.

You toss her arm over your shoulder and start walking her out of the bathroom. “I’m going to kill you tomorrow, you know that?” you say in her ear and she lets out a small, apologetic whimper.

A cute guy who was talking you up earlier approaches the two of you. He holds two red cups in his hands and shrugs when he sees you. “What the fuck, y/n? You disappeared on me!” he talks to you over the bass-y music. “I got our drinks!” he shakes the cups in his hands and hands one over to you, as if completely ignoring your drunken friend hanging off of your side.

Your friend staggers, nearly bringing you down with her. The cute guy helps you pick her back up and you sigh, annoyed at how much of a disaster your night has turned into. He knits his eyebrows at your sour attitude, then finding the vomit on your dress, he looks back up at you. You see his doe eyes grow apologetic when he mouths a weak “sorry” to you, stepping out of your way. You shake your head as if telling him it’s fine; you just wish you had more time to get to know him.

You continue dragging your friend along your side and hear someone call out your name from behind you. You whip your head around; your hair irritatingly sticks to your lip-gloss. “Hope to see you again!” he calls after you. You nod in his direction and resume walking your friend, who is nearly passed out on your shoulder, to the front door. When you walk out of the house, you’re assaulted with the smell of salt water. Despite this night turning into one of the most frustrating nights of your life, at least you got to visit a Malibu beach house.

A big, black SUV is parked outside of the house and you rush her to the door. Opening the backseat and stuffing her inside the seats in the back. “The app says where you’re taking her, right?” you ask the Uber driver, your voice sounds muted from being struck by loud music all night.

He nods and reads out her address. “Y/n,” your friend slurs, gripping onto your arm with all her strength, “you’re a really nice… you’re a… you’re a really good friend, you know that? Like, seriously,” she pauses to hiccup, “thank you for taking care of me tonight.” Her words are so slurred that it’s nearly impossible to make out her compliment, but you just nod in hopes it’ll get her to let go. She drops your arm and hands you your pricey leather jacket, bunched up in a ball, before shutting the van door.

You throw on your jacket, protecting yourself from the ocean’s breeze, and watch the van drive away when you notice a familiar car parked across the street. The SUV blocked a four-seater Maserati parked on the other side of the road. Michael’s sedentary in the driver’s seat with a cigarette hanging from his lips. You balance yourself on your ridiculously tall heels and stomp over to his car. He doesn’t even see you coming, he’s leaned back in the driver’s seat reading a book.

You crouch down and knock on the glass of his window. His eyes meet yours for a second and he slowly rolls down the window. A mob of cigarette smoke escapes the car and he chucks the stick onto the pavement. You’re both quiet for a few moments, the crashing ocean waves fills up the silence.  “How did you know I was here?” you ask.

He finally puts down his book and looks at you. “Just trying to be a good dad,” he responds.

“Ugh, ew,” you groan. “You’re my step dad.”

He adjusts his seat to start driving, his eyes looking you up and down as he does. “Looks like your night went a little… rough,” he jokes and nods towards the puke on your dress. “You need a ride?”

You look back at the party. As much as you wanted to live up the night, you’re already in too much of a bad mood to go back in there. It doesn’t help that your new dress is covered in puke, too. You turn back around to Michael, he awaits your answer with a cocked brow. “You can’t tell mom,” you sigh, walking around the car to get into the passenger’s seat. The luxury car’s butterfly doors obnoxiously open up for your entry. “Not a word,” you assure him as you slide into the leather seat.

He starts up the car and one of his Led Zeppelin albums begins to play. “I picked you up at the library,” he quips.

He starts driving along the empty coast and you decide to skip the seatbelt, you don’t want to dirty his car with your friend’s retch. His eyes glance over to your seat for a moment, he notices you second guessing the seatbelt and puts a hand on your thigh. You look up at him and intuitively try to tempt him, biting your bottom lip and batting your lashes. “I’ll protect you if we crash,” he whispers, his fingers lightly caress your thighs.

You put your hand on his and slide him further up your leg. He keeps one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road, but when his eyes do meet yours, it makes all the nerves in your core feel like a wave pool. Your dress is short enough for him to reach your panties without any hassle. Your hand is on his when his fingers begin to rub your pussy, still dressed in a pair of panties he bought you. “Baby’s already wet for daddy,” he says under his breath, kneading your clit in small circles.

You feel your stomach erupt with butterflies, you’ve never felt a nervousness so intense before. A rush of thoughts suddenly violates your mind, you try to shut them up but they keep coming. This is wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re disgusting for enjoying this. His fingers have been in your mom before.

You dig your nails into his skin and pull his hand away from you; bending over in your seat and clutching onto your stomach. You only had one drink tonight, you shouldn’t be feeling this sick.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, “are you okay?”

“I think I need air,” you grumble through the sudden sickness. “Can you pull over?”

Michael only takes a minute to find an empty parking lot on the beach and pull into it. You get out of the car without saying a word to him and take off your heels, throwing them into the backseat of his car. You’re already starting to feel your anxiety subside as you shuffle through the cool sand and pace towards the erratic waves crashing on shore. This is one of the reasons you loved LA, the tons of tiny, empty beaches. The ocean at night, and how it constantly smelt like salt water, how it relaxed you.

The breeze blew through your hair, a part of you felt like running into the crashing waves, but a voice took you out of it. “Y/n!” Michael called behind you, over the sound of the whistling wind. He trudges in the sand to get to you; you faintly snicker at his dedication. “Are you okay?” he asks once he’s closer to you.

When you see him, face glowing in the moon light, golden locks blowing in the ocean breeze, face twisted with concern, it all settles. Everything feels like it’s in the right place. Your stomach, although still turning with butterflies, no longer feels sick.

There’s a pause between the two of you; both of you deciding to admire each other instead of the beautiful ocean view beside you. Then, it feels like everything clicks. Like the two of you mentally communicate your longing for each other, your desire. Both shutting your eyes and diving in for a kiss at the same time.

His lips smash against yours, sucking your face, and his tongue quickly invades your mouth. He kisses you like he’s craved your lips for years, passionately cleaning up your mouth with his eager tongue.

Michael works your jacket off of your shoulders and you shimmy it to the ground. He unzips your dress, the zip running along your naked back sends a shiver crawling down your spine. He abandons your lips for a moment to pull down your dress, exposing your bare chest and expensive panties. You’re too lost in lust to even realize you’re half naked on a public beach.

You’re both panting and releasing all of the built-up sexual tension. He stands back up and kisses you again, his hands cup your ass and he gives an echoed smack; his fingers creep down your legs. He grabs onto the back of your thighs and hoists you up, you lightly yelp into his mouth and wrap your legs around him. His large hands hold you up and he leans down, resting you onto the jacket you’ve thrown onto the sand.

Once you’re laid down, he begins rubbing your pussy again. His cold rings adding a different sense of pleasure as he rubs you into entropy. He slides your feeble panties to the side and spits down on your cunt, shoving his finger inside you. You moan at the sudden intrusion, taking in a breath of the salt-scented air. “That’s it, baby girl,” he whispers, adding in another finger, “I want to hear you moan for daddy.”

You take in a breath and whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, slowly pulsing against your g-spot. He touches you as if he already knows which parts make you crumble. “Ooh yeah, daddy,” you cry and grind on his fingers, pushing him deeper inside you, “right there.”

“You’re my dirty little slut, huh?” he asks, gliding in another finger. Your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Little girl likes to get fucked by her daddy?” He adds another finger, completely stretching you out. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you can’t reply. “I asked you a question.”

You meet his cold eyes for a second, before you throw your head back in pleasure. “Yes!” you breathe out, feeling the heat rise in your body. Your sensitive cunt throbs under his gluttonous fingers, persistently fucking you and begging for more. “Yes, oh, keep fucking me just like that, daddy!”

His fingers find a rhythm inside of you, constantly bringing you to the brink of climax and slowing down. “Such a dirty little girl,” he teases and spits on your soaking cunt. He pulls out his fingers and holds them to your lips. You grab his hand and suck on his long fingers, tasting the cool metal rings mixed with the sweet taste of your pussy.

You sit up and lock your lips with his again. Both, you and Michael, unbutton his shirt; you want to feel his flesh against yours as soon as possible. When you get to the bottom, you slide your hands up his body and square the shirt off of his shoulders. His perfect, porcelain skin shines in the moonlight. You want to appreciate it for a moment, but he’s already unbuckling his belt.

He’s propped on his knees, unzipping his black pants and bringing them down to pull his erection out of his briefs. It springs out when you start grabbing for it, he moves back and clicks his tongue. “My greedy little girl,” he mocks, “you don’t get a taste until daddy says you do.”

He pushes you down with one of his hands. His touch is so delicate, yet so commanding. Everything he does is done with conviction and a power that only you could dream of, he is inherently dominant over you. He strokes his long, girthy length over you, you’re practically drooling at the sight. He spits on himself and rubs it into the head. “Spit on it,” he orders.

You sit up and weakly spit on the tip of his cock; it’s too late when you notice your mouth is dry from nervousness. He shakes his head. “You’re so pathetic, you can’t even spit on me right,” he sneers, divorced from the nasty words leaving his lips. He presses his dick against your folds and your fingers curl into your jacket, awaiting the moment he plunges into you. “Say the word, baby girl, say you want me,” he’s lingering at your entrance.

“Please,” you whine, your pussy is beating against his hard cock, “please dad.”

He pushes his head inside you and you grab his arms for support, digging your nails into his skin. He’s so thick, you’ve never felt something so large obtruding your tight cunt. He moves in slowly, reading your stunned facial expressions to see if he should continue stuffing himself inside of you. You let out tiny weeps as he digs deeper into your hole, but you can’t manage much more.

Michael thrusts himself into you until he’s balls deep, even he can’t help but groan. “My little girl is so fucking tight,” he grunts under his breath. He starts to hammer himself into you, going so deep that you feel like pushing him back, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. His cock is so thick that it hits every nerve you could imagine; it’s hard to gather a single word.

He lets out a small chuckle at your reticence. “My innocent baby’s never felt a real cock before, huh?” he taunts, still pounding his length into you. You open your mouth to speak, but settle on shaking your head. One distinct tear runs down the side of your face while stifled cries pass your trembling lips with each time his balls smack into your ass. “You’re taking me like a good fucking girl,” he admires, “my good little slut.”

He lifts up your leg and rests your foot on his shoulder. You’re twisted onto your side, trying to look over your shoulder to see how vigorously he pounds into your cunt. Michael’s new positioning hits exactly in your g-spot, you feel your leg shaking under his grip. “H-holy shit,” your voice trembles, you let out a built-up breath. “Keep going, daddy! Right there, right there, I’m so close,” you’re begging, voice is flooded with desperation. You don’t care how childish you sound, you want nothing more than to come all over Michael’s big dick. “Don’t move, please, please,” you grab onto his arm again.

Tears overflow your eyes when you look into his. Just seeing his determined light blue eyes peering back at you makes you unravel even more. He has no remorse for how weak he’s making you, how vulnerable you’ve become, his unmistakable dominion turns you on.

He listens to your wails, finally granting you the satisfaction you’ve been begging for and plows into your g-spot. Your grip on him gets tighter as he thrusts harder, you’re almost certain he’s going to leave some swelling deep inside your cunt. “Your dick is so, fucking, good,” you breathe in between thrusts.

Michael doesn’t give up, keeping up the same pace and fucking you exactly how you want him to. You’re about to praise his long cock some more when you’re thrown into climax. You try looking back up at him, but you can’t say a word; your mouth hangs wide open with nothing but small chokes croaking out. He can see how dazed he’s made you and shoves your face into the ground, pushing your nose against the leather of your jacket. “You’re going to take daddy’s cock like a good little girl,” he seethes, suffocating your head into your jacket. “Don’t come,” he demands.

He continues punching your g-spot with his huge cock, you feel your pussy spasming under his rough thrusts. He holds both of your arms back, shifting you into doggy-style. His balls slap against your sore clit and you feel yourself starting to ejaculate. “Fuck!” you scream into the breeze of the empty beach. Your cunt twitches and gushes its balmy juices all over Michael’s hard cock.

He slows down his pace and pulls your arms up towards him, you feel his heaving chest against your back. “What did I just fucking say?” he fumes, tugging your arms even closer to him. “Answer me.”

“You told me not to come,” you answer in a syrupy, naïve voice.

He grabs both of your tits to push you flush against him, maintaining his rough thrusts into your cunt. “That’s right,” he whispers in your ear, “baby didn’t fucking listen.” He smacks your tits with both of his hands, striking you hard. You jump at how ruthless he hits you, it makes your stomach flutter again. His full lips lug along your neck. “Remember who you belong to,” he speaks into your neck, sending an iciness throughout your entire body.

Michael digs his teeth into your skin, sucking up your flesh while he continues massaging your breasts, pinching at the hard peaks your nipples have formed. He sucks so hard it stings, you wonder how that would feel on your pussy. His love bite begins to hurt and you shift your head away from him, he snickers. “Who do you belong to?” he whispers, lips chafing the shell of your ear.

He pinches your nipples even harder and you sob in pleasure. “Mmm, you,” you respond, looking over your shoulder to give his lips a frail kiss. “I belong to you, daddy.”

He takes in a deep breath as if shaking off your spell and regaining his confidence. He pushes you onto the ground again and goes back to fucking you like a ragdoll. “You better remember that,” he breathes, mercilessly pummeling himself into you again.

He holds both of your arms back once more, driving himself into you so hard that you’re concerned about cervix bruising. His pace slows down a bit and you look back at him, his mouth drapes open and he stares down at the back of your head. He pushes you away as he orgasms, savagely shoving your face back into the ground, as you feel his warm seed spilling inside your wet cunt. Michael groans from deep within his chest, letting out a long sigh when he’s done. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, “fuck, you sexy bitch.”

You let out a little giggle at this and he joins. He hauls himself out of you and you feel all of your muscles relax. You shift onto your back, looking up at Michael in disbelief. You’re too caught up in euphoria to comprehend what just happened. All you can think of in this moment is how fucking good he was. Even Michael has a dumbfounded look on his face.

He shakes his head and liberates a nervous laugh, “We’re so fucked up.”

You can say that again.

[jae-daddy]

Chubby (12)

Jaebum AU series

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / thirteen

masterlist

Pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader Genre: Romance, Drama, Mature, Angst Plot: you are getting bullied, and jaebum decides to help you a/n: at this point, i’m literally just writing for me lol. :) but, hope yall like it party next chapter! not edited

You were back in middle school. The dark blue uniform scattering the cafeteria, but you remained in your little corner trying to go unnoticed. You knew it was pointless, you were too big to hide. You stood like a sore thumb, but there was nothing wrong with pretending there was a blanket of invisibility covering you.

“Hey, y/n,” a girl with short bob haircut sat infront of you. You saw a fresh cut on the corner of her lips, and you instantly lowered your eyes to the table.

She was one of them. One of the girl who would bully you. Well she never explicitly did anything herself, but she was always there. She stood behind the group, you could see her from the floor. Her arms folded, her foot tapping with annoyance, and her eyes wondering else where. She didn’t want to be there while the other girls took turns to hurt you. No, it wasn’t that what was happening to you bothered her, she just bored and wanted to be elsewhere.

You had wanted to be elsewhere too. But you both were stuck there. Stuck as tears fell your eyes, stuck as she looked up at sky, stuck as you looked down and closed your eyes as another kick landed on your stomach.

“Hey!” She called out again. Your eyes snapped to her, not sure how to react. “I’m Nora.”

You didn’t trust her smile. You didn’t trust anything that was going on right now. You didn’t even know what was going on. Your eyes scanned the cafetaria unsurely.

“I’m not with those girls anymore,” she shrugged as she stuck her straw into the pink milk carton. “Those filthy bitches have nothing better to do.”

You just stared at her, still unsure of what to do.

She let out a sigh, as she sat her drink down.

“I won’t lie to you. I didn’t leave by choice.” She looked into your eyes, as she talked. She was a fast talker you noticed. Even with a cut lip, there was something bright about her. “They kicked me out because apparently other people having feelings for you is a crime.”

When you didn’t reply, she added, “Jisuen’s boyfriend started to like me. So instead of dumping that son of a bitch, they decided I deserved to be punished.”

You remained quiet, still not sure what to do or say. You weren’t good at this. No one in this school talked to you unless they were telling you what to do or that you were worthless and not good enough.

“It seems like we’re in the same boat,” she gave you a tight smile. “Let’s look after one another. Two is better then one.” She placed a chocolate biscuit on your plate as offering.

You looked at her, searching for any form of mockery but nothing was there.

You slowly lifted up the biscuit and took a bite.

“There you go,” she smiled. She waited for a moment before continuing with a sigh. “It sucks that they do that to you just because you’re pretty.”

You snorted unable to hold it back, making her be taken a back in surprise, before shaking her head, chuckling.

                     ___________________________________________

You stared at Jin and her fresh new haircut, that brushed her shoulders briskly.

“How do you like it?” She grinned, turning side to side outside your apartment.

You stared at her unable to look away. You felt the ghosts slowly creep up behind you. They wrapped their arms around your waist, their sharp tongue slipping across your neck and into your ear.

It sharply pulled you into the darkness that was churning bigger behind you. You could hear it; you could feel it. Growing, planning, getting ready; increasing every passing second. You were scared, you were frightened of where it tangles would drag you and for how long.

You stared at Jin’s face as it slowly started to morph into someone else’s. JIn’s round eyes, becoming sharp, her noise pointy, her lips smaller with a cut in the corner. Her dead eyes stared at you, and you felt all oxygen leaving your veins, leaving you cold.

“What do think y/n?” Her lips scrowning into a smirk, as she tilted her head. “How do I look?

You tried answering. You tried breathing. You tried to move, but you were stuck; unable to move. The branches moved from your waist, crawling up your chest and around your neck; getting tighter.

“HELP!” She screamed. Her face turning into one of horror. Her short hair frailing around her in panic. “HELP ME Y/N!”

Her screaming resided as she smirked hauntingly at you. Blood spilled from her mouth as a new bruise formed on her cheek.

“We’re meant to be in this forever.”

She reached out and held your shoulder.

You screamed jerking the hand off you as you fell on to the floor. You clenched your eyes shut as your lungs burned breathing in harshly.

“Hey, hey hey,” Jin came down infront of you, her voice gentle and full of concern. “Y/n, its okay, baby.”

She sunk down infront of you holding you in her arms.

The branches snapped out of you, the dark void disappering behind you as you slumped onto JIn. You hugged her tight, crying into her arms.

“What have I done, Jin?” You whimpered trying to control your breathing.

“Y/N?!” Jaebum’s body appeared in the doorway, his chest heaving and eyes frantic. They landed on you; widening as a breathe left him.

“What...” he trailed off softly. “I heard you scream so I...”

“It’s okay, JB,” Jin said for you. “I got this.”

You turned away from Jaebum hiding yourself from him and his eyes. You didn’t want to see pity in his eyes for you. You didn’t want him to see you like this.

“Okay,” Jaebum muttered, you heard his hands hit the frame twice, before he walked away.

                    ___________________________________________

“Are you sure you’ll be okay, y/n?” Jin asked as she zipped up her winter jacket.

You nodded before hugging her. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay, y/n,” she gave you a small smile, before jokingly adding, “Damn, sad y/n sure loves to hug. Maybe you should carry that trait over.”

You rolled your eyes chuckling, before walking out with her.

“You didn’t have to walk me out, I know the way.”

“It’s okay, walk will be nice.” You told her, as you clasped your hands in front of you. She smiled in reply, hugging you tightly before she moved away.

“Text me-- call me if anything happens okay?” Jin told you, sternly looking into your eyes. “It doesn’t matter what time it is.”

You nodded, waving as she walked away, before turning the corner.

You turned, about to walk into the building but hesitated. You didn’t want to go in just yet.

You turned and began walking the other way. You ended up at the look out point where your grandma would take you too.

You sat down on the bench, and pulled the knitted cardigan closer around you. It didn’t stop the cold wind completely, but it helped slightly. It was better than nothing.

You stared down at the orange lights staring to light up in the dusk.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here in so long, Nani,” you said out to your grandma. “I lot has been happening. So much that I forget about it sometimes.

“You remember Jaebum right?” You asked the wind, that began getting chiller as every word left you. “He was here last time with Tuesday. You would’ve loved him. And he would’ve loved your kimchi jigae.”

You smiled softly, before biting your lip to hold back the tears.

“I miss you,” you whispered closing your eyes. “You would’ve been able to tell me what to do and what to say. I am so lost. I don’t know what to do.”

“What’s there to think about? Isn’t everything okay?” A man walking by said into his phone. You stilled for a moment, before chuckling in surprise.

“I guess everything is going well. I am friends with Jaebum, and he has helped with Jenny, and he takes my mind of things.” You muttered a reply, looking down at the dirt, before looking up.

“You would’ve compared him to a prince, Nani,” you said into the wind. “He certainly looks like one.” You chuckled.

“But what if I don’t want to leave,” you looked up to the darkening sky, as stars began sparkling. “What if I don’t deserve him.”

You thought back to the apartment. You thought back to her. You thought back to Nora and her face as she fell to the ground. You thought back to Jaebum looking at you with pity.

“What if there is no happy ending,” you whispered opening your eyes.

Meow.

You looked down to a grey fur ball snuggling to your feet.

“Tuesday?” you gasped, lifting him into your arms. He snuggled in closer making frown, confused. You looked around for Jaebum, but didn’t find anyone.

“Were you planning on escaping?” You cooed, before rubbing your nose against his softness. “Come on buddy, let’s get you home to daddy.”

You bit your tongue as you stood outside to Jaebum’s door.

The cold wind crept up the hem of your long dress, making chills run down your spine.

Tuesday meowed eagerly, almost telling you to hurry up.

You let out a deep breathe, as you knocked on the door. You felt embarrased seening him so soon after he had seen you like that. You wanted to run away, but you knew you shouldn’t.

Something about Jaebum made you want to turn to him. Something made you believe that it would be okay to be with him right now. Something about Jaebum made everything okay.

The door unlocked and a dishelved Jaebum opened it.

His cheeks were rosy pink, his chest heaving as if he had been running.

“Hi,” he greeted you with a toothy grin. “Surprising to see you here!”

You stared at him, as you bit your lip. After a moment, he opened the door wider letting you in.

“Oh, you have Tee!” He exclaimed, his voice super high, making you feel suspicious. You turned around closing the door behind you to find Jaebum’s winter coat dusted with mist.

“Were you out?” You asked, as you walked into the house. You slipped into your pink slippers that Jaebum had bought for you.

“No!” He replied quickly, making you narrow your eyes in suspicion. “I’ve been home all afternoon!”

Jaebum shrugged not looking at you. “Why, something wrong?”

He stepped back and held out his arms in a little taadaa!

The table was set with a ramen and coke, and his laptop showing Twilight.

“Oh wow, Jae,” you couldn’t help but smile, as you looked at him feeling all the tension in your body fade away.

Jaebum scratched the back of his head, as he shrugged.

“I thought a supernatural romantic comedy would be great today,” he breathed in through his teeth, looking at the ground.

“Yes because Twilight is a comedy first.” You chuckled, settling into your place.

Jaebum sat down next to you, his shoulders almost touching yours.

“A true intellectual, as always,” he grinned, hitting play.

It was halfway through the movie when Jaebum talked.

“How was your afternoon?” You stilled for a moment, before biting your lip and nodding.

“It was good after that...” you tralied off, feeling awkward. “Jin wanted to choose an outfit for the party.”

“What did she choose?” Jaebum’s eyes snapped to yours widening excitedly.

“Uh, jeans, a top and a jacket for hers.” You told him, making him frown.

“Wow, such description,” Jaebum shook his head. “But good, dress warmly. You’re like a popcicle.”

You scoffed at him before turning to the screen. A chuckle left you as Edward called Bella a spidermonkey and began flying through the forest. Jaebum joined to, pointing something out making you laugh harder.

You sobered up, and sat back smiling. You felt Jaebum’s eyes on you, and your cheeks began to feel hot.

Meow.

You looked over to Tuesday meowing at the door repeatedly.

“She likes acting like a dog nowadays for some reason. I think its the puppy tiktoks we’ve been watching thats influencing him,” Jaebum shook his head. “You already went out for a walk today, buddy.”

Tuesday hissed at him and ran into the bedroom.

“Wait, how did Tee even get out of your apartment?” You asked Jaebum, looking at him puzzled.

“He... must’ve... have...” Jaebum searched around the house. His frantic eyes landing on different objects for a few seconds before bouncing off. Finally his eyes landed on the windows, and you saw the lightbulb go of in his mind. “He must’ve gotten out the window!”

You nodded, as he breathed out satisfied with himself.

You sat back smiling.

Tuesday jumped from the seventh story, and Jaebum is a good liar.

[vapidsims]

This guy again?

yes im bringing him again 

This time for @shae-sims Casa Amor! 

Name: Caster Lang

Age: 28

Ethnic: Blasian

Personality: Goofball| Exra| Micheivious

Occupation: tech assistant. freelance on the side.

Hobby: fishing

Sign: Gemini

From: Brindleton bay

If you ask anybody who knows him on a surface level they’ll probably say Caster’s one of the funniest most charming dudes they ever met. That he brightens up the room when he walks in, goofing off with the finger guns and all that, makin the jokes! he’ll make an absolute fool of himself tryna get that old man sitting at the bar to chuckle.

Ask somebody who knows him on a more tertiary level and they’ll say…well, hes a bit off. they dont know what it is though, they couldnt possibly begin to explain whats rubbed them the wrong way. and strangely enough, the time they start feeling like that is the same time Caster goes *poof* out of their social lives.

( long text and mommy/daddy issues under the cut)

Lets get educational here, Who is Caster Lang? Hes certainly not gonna tell you.

Ask him about personal stuff, you get roundabout answers. want to pry? you may as well be pulling his teeth.

But hes a great guy so no big deal. Right? Right.

Hes a prankster, he loves jokes, he smiles and laughs, A LOT.  Somebody stole his car? he’ll probably just make a self depricating joke about it and keep on rolling on foot.

he dosnt…seem to care.

He was born to an (initially) happy couple, until just a day after his birth, where his mother decided she didnt love her husband any more. she tried to stick the marriage out, but it fell apart after six more years. A nasty divorce proceeded. And as it turned out after all that. Neither parent wanted their kid.

Then he spent a little too long being bounced from relative to relative until he ended up in foster care anyway. And by the time that happened he was too old to be wanted. He got taken in by an old man who really needed company….And a maid. As soon as he was old enough to mind himself and the old guy had died. Caster bounced off to the other side of the country and left everything/everybody back home in the dust.

Hes the local funnydude. sure. hes got charm. yeah. but on the underside, he likes to be at the center of a trainwreck. He moves quietly… Theres a loose thread hanging off of everybody and hes waiting to pull and watch what unravels. just like what happened with his parents. Dan across the street has a little insecurity that he accidently mentions offhand? you can bet Caster filed that away in his memory to use later. Caster meets Dans wife at the store some months from then? they chat about Dan for a bit. Then the neighbors are whispering. And then the town is whispering…

Its not his fault, the problem was already there, he just…casually made them aware of it…   its a slow burn, it takes time to catch….but man does he love to watch the flames…

And nobody suspects him. Unassuming a$s

Cas and Dan across the street will still be friends for a while. But Dan eventually starts to feel the same strange feeling others get after being exposed to him too long. Caster is used to this, hes a walking,talking, self fulfilling prophecy. Hes a curse that just keeps cursing…. hes up in smoke just like that.

Dude goes into everything prepared for and expecting rejection, he makes it so….why join a show?

He just wants to make people laugh at his funny ass on tv? yes maybe.

Is he there a chance he could actually find somebody who cares about him? hopefully. but he knows not to get his hopes up. he dosent make it easy…

He wants to plant seeds in the background and then watch the absolute sh*tshow  tree that grows out of them? probably.

All of the above? most definitely.

More details:

hes obviously never seen a therapist. hes an expert at self managing. whats that? thats his third cup of iced cream? whatever he’ll work it off.

Hes happy to please. you want him to get those heavy buckets. yes of course! want him to drive across town to get that gourmet cheesecake for you? sure thing! anything else? you can run him ragged.

Kinda into masochism dont @ him

He doesnt sleep as much as any human should. Its not unusual for you to get up at 3am and hes just…standing, in the kitchen, eating more icecream. he’ll say hes got insomnia. the dark circles under his eyes say so too.

He loves cats, and the cats love him. whenever he goes fishing he’d gladly give the scraps to all his adoring strays. They dont promise him anything and then leave, they just do cat things.

tried reaching out to his family a few times while living with the old man and either got short replies or outright “dont talk to me”s

If you’re gonna fite him it better be right there and then cause if you tell him to “meet you in the back of the mountain steak shack a quarter past midnigt on the eve of a full moon” He aint showing up. hes at home watching dr phil.

He does NOT skip leg day. or…overall body day. tries (and mostly fails) to hide that hes ripped.

greens and blues are his favorite colors.

has a hard time dressing himself. he tries hard.

“But what about finding his true love”?

He’d like to. however comma,

Is anyone gonna put up with him once they find out how he is? whom of yall like fixing a broken house? xD

(pls enjoy fixing a broken house, or helping him unpack his issues, buy his therapy)

“What about the prize money”?

save it for a nice place to live and adopt the most unwanted kid he could find and spoil them. (he IS a jerk undercover but this probably says a little something)

He’ll go wherever the wind dropkicks him~