#this is likely no where near legally sound
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justinspoliticalcorner · 3 days ago
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Jay Kuo for Think Big Picture:
We’re all still grieving the electoral loss and feeling queasy about the prospect of Trump returning to the White House in January. But in response to the giddy pronouncements from the GOP and the Trump campaign, some have already begun to think about an effective political resistance to Trump and Trumpism. 
Democrats need to make these plans knowing full well that Trump will be backed by a sycophantic GOP Congress and blank check-writing SCOTUS. And this time around, there won’t be any adults in the room, including White House counsel who during his first term would quietly shelve Trump’s most outrageous requests, or chiefs of staff like John Kelly who would struggle to moderate, educate and soften his most extreme positions. No, this time around Trump will be surrounded by people even further to the right of him. They will seek to implement the most dangerous and destructive of policies, many drawn from the Project 2025 blueprint. And they will encourage Trump to issue Executive Orders that could reshape American democracy, insert our armed forces deeply into civil affairs, hurtle our economy into an abyss, and upend the lives of millions of minorities.
This is a thought piece, an early stab (and work in progress) about how Democrats (and the lawyers who are aligned with them) can ready themselves to resist Trump. We’re in very new territory here, but the ideas are based on what we’ve learned about Trump from both his first term and the four years he’s been more or less idle when he wasn’t sitting in courtrooms or stumping on the campaign trail. They play into both his ego and the worst aspects of his character and leadership style. I hope you find this early exploration a good starting point for how the next four years could go if Democrats play their cards smartly, even if the strategy seems highly unorthodox. Note that I won’t be discussing what average citizens might consider doing. This, for now, is the beginning of a political and legal strategy. Others involved in grassroots organizing may have ideas for direct resistance by citizens, but that is for another discussion.
[...]
Hit ‘em with lawfare
One of the most effective weapons against Trump’s policies during his first term was the slew of lawsuits that his executive orders met when they were first announced. Remember the Muslim ban? That bounced up and down the courts for years before it could finally go into effect in a watered-down form. 
Lawyers from every non-profit walk of life should be readying civil complaints today, just as people like Russ Vought are already preparing horrific executive orders for Trump to sign. The minute Trump announces his Day One policy to deport millions of undocumented migrants, for example, lawyers everywhere should file suit. It shouldn’t just be one suit; it should be several. Tie up the White House lawyers and the Trump Justice Department with as many cognizable claims as they can think of. More than the sheer number, they should file these cases before judges in jurisdictions where the appellate courts will be more friendly, such as in the Ninth Circuit. This is the inverse of what MAGA and Christian Nationalist legal counsel have been doing now for years by picking a single court near Amarillo, Texas to ensure their cases are heard before radical judge Matthew Kacsmaryk.
Once those cases are filed, judges (and their clerks) should slow-walk them. Act like the nun in The Sound Of Music, opening the gate as slowly as she can so the Nazis are delayed. Then, after issuing temporary restraining orders, set the hearings out as far as possible. Have the lawyers demand extensions. File motions that could receive interlocutory appeals, to further gum things up. In short, drag things out as long as possible to prevent his policies from going into effect. Governors in blue border states could also get involved. California and Arizona both have Democratic governors, after all. And they also have Democratic state attorneys general. These states could move to intervene in suits or file them on their own, just as the red states have done to block Biden’s policies like student debt relief. Sure, this will eventually get up to the Supreme Court and get overturned, but the point is delay. Run out the clock, run out the clock, run out the clock. Trump only gets four years, two before the midterms. [...]
These are but a few broad-stroke ideas, but it’s time everyone who will be part of the resistance start thinking about how they can play a vital part in pushing back. Some of these tactics are admittedly unorthodox, others quite petty. Still others are variations on what has worked well before. Together, they could bog down or distract Trump and the White House just long enough for the midterms to give Democrats a chance to regain control of one or both chambers and really turn up the heat.
It may make many quite uncomfortable to consider deploying these kinds of strategies. They make Democrats into obstructionists, even political saboteurs, much as the GOP has been for the few cycles when Democrats have been in charge.  But here there is a difference, though it’s one MAGA Republicans will never acknowledge: When actual fascists have taken control of the government and are trying to destroy democracy, patriotic opponents must use every peaceful means at their disposal to prevent them. Indeed, it is a moral imperative, because millions of lives are on the line. We cannot act as if the world has not changed, and Democrats must grow far more accustomed to acting outside the box and getting creative in their approaches.
It’s time for Democrats to play rough by delaying and gumming up Donald Trump’s tyrannical proposals to run the clock down.
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hoperays-song · 4 months ago
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Buster Moon's Total Sing 1 Crime Counter
In a recent rewatch of the Sing movies, I decided to keep a running tab on the amount of crimes that Buster could hypothetically be charged with. And there were... a lot. This list is a lowball estimate in a lot of the numbers provided and I will say that I am not a lawyer, I just looked this all up. So is this perfectly legally sound? No, but then again, neither are these movies. So... have fun!
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Failure of payment for employees/Breach of Contract (x4)
At the start of the film, we see that Buster has not paid the stage crew of his latest show by giving them paychecks that bounced and not providing them with compensation after finding this out. We only see four of them, but for all we know, there could be more crew that were out of frame.
Traffic violations (x6)
Okay look, that biking through town scene was cute but bikes are supposed to obey traffic laws and ummm... Buster did not. Man went straight through intersections like he was playing real life Frogger. There were probably more than six to be honest but that's at least the ones we saw.
Loitering 
Now this is grey area, but Buster could, hypothetically, be fined for loitering on private property (ie. in the restaurant) since he was never planning on actually purchasing anything from the business. It would be a hard case, but it, technically, has happened before.
Hiring discrimination 
While I love Johnny, the only reason Buster did not hire Daniel the giraffe for the talent show was because he refused to make accommodations for the boy's height, which could be discrimination based on either a disability or genetic information. I'm not entirely sure which one Daniel's height would classify as in universe which is why I listed both.
Breach of Contract/Fraud (x7)
Due to the prize money being stated in writing and the talent show cast being hired under the understanding that they would have a potential of getting that compensation/it was available to them, it is illegal that he did continue to lie about that when he had no means or real intention to provide it (I know he tries to get the money, but when he hired them, he had no intention of paying any of them $100,000).
Energy Diversion
Stealing electricity from your neighbors is, unsurprisingly, a crime.
Aiding and Abetting the Delinquency of a Minor
This is only due to Meena was technically an accomplice to the energy diversion since Buster got her to help so, technically it could be argued that its aiding and abetting and she does seem to be implied to still be a kid.
Unsafe Working Conditions (x8)
That theatre is falling apart at the seams and the fact someone got hospitalized as a result only goes to further prove the conditions being unsafe. I really need to read up on OSHA because that theatre is probably breaking all the codes.
Negligence
So Pete (everyone remembers him right?) gets absolutely slammed in the face with a sand bag due to a series of events caused by Buster and ends up in hospital. Not only could he be sued for damages, he could get charged with negligence as well for that.
Trespassing (x2)
When building the water stage for the theatre we see Buster on both Les Calmars's (the restaurant's) private property and on another building's roof to access the water tower. Both are trespassing.
Water Theft
This should shock no one but stealing water from a water tower is illegal.
Vandalism
Plastering the ads for the squids on the front of Les Calmars is vandalism technically so that's fun.
Aiding and Abetting the Delinquency of a Minor (x4)
Buster did drag Meena into helping him with all of this meaning, yes, she has now committed five crimes due to him.
Unsafe Working Conditions (x108)
So I am not gonna count all of those squids. I'm not sure the number is even consistent to be completely honest with you. So we're going just go with it being 100 and move on to the fact that water stage was in no way up to code and created really unsafe environments for all his employees.
Negligence (x108)
His employees were not only trapped in a flooded building due to him but were also in a hostage situation. There is no way everyone walked away scratch free so this is here just as a catch all.
Endangerment of a Minor (x2)
Now, I am solely basing this off headcanon but if not just put these as two more tallies in the endangerment category, but Johnny and Meena seem to be around 16-17 years old in this movie. And, you know, he got them trapped in a flooding and collapsing building.
Endangerment (x112)
This is for everyone else, squids included, he got trapped in a flooding and collapsing building.
Public Nudity
The man changes into a speedo on the side of the road. Might be out of frame but still counts.
Public Menace
Look, this is legally described as "using threats or conduct to put someone else in fear of imminent danger"... and I don't know about y'all but the whole watch party felt in fear of imminent danger watching that bloody car wash scene okay?! They are cleaning the cars with their bodies. That's weird.
Trespassing
The destroyed theatre was property of the bank when they went back to it y'all, that is textbook trespassing. Like Judith even points it out later.
Vandalism
And while cleaning up the debris and making the stage was cool and all, not his stuff anymore so it could be charged as vandalism. It might be a hard case due to them technically cleaning up but still could be charged as vandalism. And even if it isn't, the destruction of the property definitely would be. So pick which one you want to count this as.
Loitering 
Remaining on bank property despite knowing he was not allowed to be there is not allowed in a court of law apparently.
Aiding and Abetting the Delinquency of a Minor (x4)
He did encourage both Johnny and Meena to help rebuild the stage, so at the least they would be loitering and trespassing.
Aiding and Abetting (x5)
And this is for the rest of the troupe + Mike which he encouraged to help as well.
Failure to Comply
Another grey area one, but since he was given a verbal warning (that likely had legal backing to it), Buster could technically be hypothetically charged with a Failure to Comply with a court order to stay off the property/leave the property when Judith told him too.
Aiding and Abetting the Delinquency of a Minor (x2)
And the encouraging Meena and Johnny to stay at the show and not just leave (you could argue that was Ash but they are kids and he is their boss so he technically is in charge of them right now).
Aiding and Abetting (x88)
This is a combo one of Aiding and Abetting the adults of the troupe to stay and encouraging the crowd to trespass! He's the host, he is technically the ring leader here, he would get in trouble for it. Also, I'm not counting everyone + there are too many different heights that that count would likely not be accurate so let's just go with 88 and move on.
Final Crime Count for Sing 1: 365 individual crimes!
Buster... why? Just why? One for every day of the year. You did not need to do that.
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ybklix · 4 months ago
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you can be the boss
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★ pairing: softdom!chrisbang x virginfem!reader
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☆summary: A rich hot older man, a slightly horny young woman, together in a hot summer in his house near the coastal zone. When you meet Chris, your step-aunt's new boyfriend, your world changes completely, and after a night of liquor and cigarettes, there's no going back to satisfy all your fantasies, you don't even care you're inexperienced.
✧ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, cheating, implied legal age gap, daddy kink, use of petnames, masturbation, corruption kink, fingering, clit play, oral sex, deepthroat, faceriding, cunnilingus, cumplay, chocking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampies, mention of chris as a smoker.
word count: 9.5k
masterlist - taglist ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹
a/n: lana del rey literally invented the 4th of july, she’s so iconic, so proud of my CUNTry led by my president miss grant🫡❤️
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divider by chachachannah
The bright sunshine, the light sweat pouring from your forehead despite being inside your father's cool car made you feel young again, something in the air was so innocent and sweet that bright summer. Especially when he insisted you spend the summer with his wife's family, as if you were a little girl, you agreed, you had a very tedious and frustrating semester in college that you needed a distraction, plus a huge house with a yard, pool and near the beach didn't sound bad at all. You'd be doing nothing but sunbathing in your bathing suit, relaxing.
You walked onto the grounds of the house, it really was a mansion, the architecture was modern but there were some classic touches that for some reason got you. You were surprised, thinking that your 'aunt' really did get a rich man this time. Your father remarried when you were 17, to a woman 7 years younger than him who couldn't have children, so she always opened you up to her family, treating you sweetly, going to your high school graduation, and supporting you in your college career, so you met your stepmother's family, who had two sisters —she was the middle one— the oldest, Lilian, who had a daughter your age and you became close, however, you lived apart from each other; your stepmother Dahlia, and the youngest, Ruby, who was the prettiest of the three, was young, glamorous and kind; you weren't sure, but you thought she was at least twenty-nine or thirty and, that she got herself a rich boyfriend who kindly offered his summer home to her whole family.
Liv, Lilian's daughter greeted you as soon as you got out of the car, you felt small, like a young girl still close to your parents when you spent more time at college than with them for years. Liv hugged you briefly, making your sunglasses slip off and fall into your eyes, you both moved where the sun didn't hit you directly and greeted each other shyly.
“No shit, I have no idea where Aunt Ruby got her boyfriend from, but a house with a pool in this weather, is a house with a pool, I don't care” Liv spoke.
You let out a chuckle, you watched as Ruby came out of the doorway, and you walked over to greet her, after all somehow Dahlia always went out of her way to make you consider her as family, and she received your brief hug.
“Oh wow, you grew up a lot along with Liv, I haven't seen you since Christmas” she commented to which you smiled.
After that Ruby went over to her sister, you helped by carrying your luggage and walked into the house, it seemed unreal that you were going to be under someone stranger's roof, but at least you wouldn't be alone, Liv could distract you a bit.
“Girl, wait till you meet Ruby's boyfriend, he's kinda hot, not gonna lie” Liv whispered in your ear, helping you with your stuff and guiding you to the room you both would share.
Once inside the room you jokingly said to her, “So it's not about an old sugar daddy she found around?”
Liv pursed her lips and softly denied, “He's handsome, young, rich and has an accent. I think this summer will be fun… want to meet him?”
You nodded amused, curiosity consumed you; you and Liv spent hours talking behind Ruby's back about the strange and extravagant kind of life she led, it was a fun topic of conversation for you, you analyzed every partner she had, since she didn't know how to be alone, and just had girl talk, secreting and gossiping a little.
“Oh, honey, the cherry pie” your father reminded you once he saw you coming down the stairs.
You sighed, remembering that you had baked Ruby your cherry pie which she loved so much, just because, out of a mere act of kindness, and because your dad reminded you how much she was a fan of that dessert of yours and that you should at least give it to her as a thank you for spending the summer at her house, or her boyfriend's, rather.
You took the tart out of the car, Liv waited for you at the entrance of the house and then led you to the kitchen, where a very smiling and happy Ruby received your gift, thanking you and reminding you how delicious it should be. Liv was about to ask about Chris, Ruby's boyfriend and owner of the place, just so you could meet him and analyze him with your own eyes, but Ruby herself stepped forward saying:
“Oh, you haven't met Chris, have you? I think he's outside getting the pool ready better for you girls to swim in. I'll go get him.”
Liv raised her eyebrows and looked at you a little amused, again you felt small, giving funny looks to your cousin-friend; you had been so consumed by college that you had forgotten the simplicity of the little things. Ruby didn't take long, your father and stepmother already met Chris, as apparently he had been dating Ruby for a while and was quite serious, and once again, you lived in your college dorm and institution almost.
And the man appeared, you really didn't expect to see a man like him, with a downwards smile, a bit shy, but his presence was quite strong in the room; he was wearing a white t-shirt loose to his muscular body with the name and logo of a luxury brand, denim jeans up to his knees and sneakers. He looked young, and he was cute, and so attractive to your taste, but you wanted to instantly brush the thoughts away.
“Chris Bang, nice to meet you” he greeted, in a thick voice and a soft accent, just as your cousin had mentioned.
You returned his greeting, introducing yourself, Chris also didn't expect to meet two young and beautiful girls like Ruby's nieces, but you, there was something that caught his attention in you, it was rare, but you radiated innocence plus however your strong and piercing gaze contrasted with the rest of your tender appearance. You couldn't help but darken your gaze, you liked what you saw, he was attractive, he had a unique and clean face that you could watch for hours, the harmony of his face with his sharp, dark, small eyes, combining perfectly with his distinct nose and rosy lips, his slightly pale skin detonating small pink and tan undertones, you realized that never in your little more than twenty years of life had you ever paid so much attention to a man. You didn't understand what it was about him, besides being incredibly attractive, but something drew you to him.
“Thank you for letting us stay at your place…” you said, almost lost in him, you didn't know why you said it, maybe you just wanted to talk to him more.
“Oh, it's nothing, really.”
Chris licked his lips, staring at you, going over in his mind that if it was you the girl who wasn't directly blood related to Ruby.
“Oh, babe, Y/N brought us her cherry pie” Ruby spoke, clinging to her boyfriend's arm.
Liv held back her laughter at her aunt's immature attitude. Chris looked over to the counter.
“Did you bake it?” he asked.
You nodded, “Yeah, Ruby… Ruby really likes it.”
Chris leaned into the counter, leaning on his elbows and with his long fingers lightly played with the edge of the pie plate, you focused on his hands, so manly, big, slender and with visible veins running up his arms; then you returned your gaze to him who said, in a different tone, slower and looking deeply and directly into your eyes,
“I bet it tastes delicious.”
A shiver went down your spine, oh, you were liking it too much. Your cousin raised her eyebrows at his sudden action, instantly recognizing his gentle flirtation.
“Anyway, pool's ready” Chris added, standing up straight.
“Thanks, Chris, we'll go swimming now” Liv mentioned, trying to break the incredible tension or magnetism she suddenly felt between you and her aunt's boyfriend.
Liv grabbed your arm and almost dragged you into your room, pulling you out of your trance, you could only think about who he was and…. how was it that Ruby got him, even though you knew perfectly well that she was beautiful and had a bubbly personality; you thought about his hands, and his subtle comment that made your hair stand on end.
“C'mon babe, let's go swimming,” Liv told you, teasing her aunt for calling Chris 'babe.'
You blinked suddenly…. trying to get it out of your head and reacted, quickly grabbing your suitcase and pulling out your clothes almost in desperation, finding the most revealing swimsuit you packed, a red two-piece bikini; the rest of your swimsuits weren't cute, you were so indisposed with the idea of wearing something hot, since you thought it would just be you and Liv in the pool, so you packed shorts and old t-shirts to get wet and, clearly you were also expecting a middle-aged man not at all attractive to your taste, not a damn man like Chris.
You sighed, thinking you had to go into town to buy better swimsuits. And after you put on your bikini, you perused your makeup, you perfected it more, using your best waterproof mascara, blush, pink gloss, you didn't know what you were doing but you wanted to look good. You almost forgot Liv was there, you didn't give a shit how obvious you acted, primping with effort. Chris had awakened something in you that you hadn't sensed before, it was as if he suddenly gave meaning and fun to your monotonous college life, you suddenly felt like a complete attention whore, wanting his eyes on you all the time.
Your cousin also wore a cute blue plaid print bikini, had two braids done and grabbed her sunglasses, reminding you to take yours, replacing the ones you had when you arrived, with red heart-shaped sunglasses. You sighed as you looked at Liv, she had very nice round breasts, and you thought, how funny and in a way, dirty, the way you two would walk around, being walking temptations to an unknown man.
“Would it be too much to ask Chris to put sunscreen on our backs?” she commented jokingly with a pout and with the bottle of sunscreen in her hand, to which you laughed.
And you both left, grabbing towels, your cell phones, heading towards the backyard at the pool. You took the time to admire the scenery and noticed that a few miles from the large pool was a small pool house. Once again, unable to believe you were in the home of a millionaire and unknown man, about to swim in his pool, it was so unreal, like something that only happened in the movies.
Chris bit his lip as he watched them both, replaying in his mind fuck, over and over again, it was the perfect fantasy, two pretty young twenty-something girls in bikinis at his house, about to enter the pool, getting their young bodies wet. He wasn't being the strongest soldier, and an immensity of dirty thoughts filled him completely. He took one more puff on his cigarette, this time deeper and more intense, trying to keep himself occupied and de-stressed by the incredible desire he had to fuck them both; thinking that it would be a very long and frustrating summer, and that he would end up finishing a pack in minutes if he decided to use nicotine as an escape from his dirty thoughts.
Did he love Ruby? Of course, more than anything in the world, but he was also a man with such an active libido, incredible imagination and great sexual energy. You both noticed him, on the other side of the pool, a little far away, and for some reason you found him more attractive when you saw him smoking. Chris' intention wasn't to see you, he swore, he was just hiding from his girlfriend because she hates his smoking habit. And after meeting you, damn, he really needed a cigarette.
“Hey Chris” Liv greeted him cheerfully waving her hand, to which he responded with a soft smile, raising his eyebrows and his right hand with which he held the cigarette.
She turned to you, “I hate him so much, if he marries Ruby he'll really be my uncle and it'll be gross.”
You smiled apologetically at her sudden comments, but suddenly your mind short circuited, “Marry?”
Liv sat down in one of the chairs, leaning back and relaxing her body, picking up her book ready to rest and read.
“Mmm, honestly I give them two months tops” she added disinterested, “I haven't been aware since I also live in college, but apparently they've been dating since January, I also got a big surprise today when I met him.”
January, you thought, that made them in a six month relationship, pretty long for Ruby. You questioned whether it was really a serious relationship. You pouted and sat on the chair next to her, and convinced yourself that if nothing happened, which was most ideal and the most likely option —plus you were still a virgin— you could at least think about him and have your little summer crush to keep your mind busy.
“Aren't you going to get in the pool?” you asked.
“Mmm yeah, sure, but I want to get some sun.”
You let out an incredulous airy chuckle as Liv was in the shade, not getting any direct sun. And you were about to stand up and swim, but you noticed the sudden and noticeable presence of Chris near you, this time his intentions were clear and not at all innocent, he just wanted to see your semi naked bodies more closely and in detail. He stood in the middle of the two chairs, with his hands in the pockets of his shorts, you watched him, gently lowering your heart shaped sunglasses on the bridge of your nose and raising your eyes.
“Enjoying your summer girls?” he said to which you and Liv nodded a little confused by his sudden closeness, “Do you mind if I join you?”
Liv smiled playfully, closing her book completely, “Of course not” she replied.
But Chris was only looking at you, and you felt it, you had achieved your goal, he couldn't take his eyes off you, off your body in that red bikini and your glossy, full lips. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer from you, which his gaze suddenly made you nervous.
“Sure, join us” was all you could say with your heart pounding.
“I'll be right back” he replied, walking away from you and into his house.
You and Liv looked at each other complicitly, almost feeling like you were about to do something wrong but it felt so right. You didn't understand how you went from somewhat flirtatious and confused, to feeling nervous around him.
“Oh, he's such a fucking whore” Liv added.
She didn't take Chris and Ruby's relationship very seriously, truly. But you were beginning to question so many things, but you couldn't help but want him so badly, you've never been so curious about a man, you wanted him, you needed him.
Minutes later, he appeared, wearing black sport shorts a little loose on his thighs, but tight enough for his member to be suggestively visible and noticeable, again, that was not Chris's intention, he couldn't help but have a nice penis, and that you two had to witness that. In a way you were thankful that you were wearing dark sunglasses and could blatantly see his silhouette, his strong arms and worked chest area over his tight white sleeveless shirt.
You were already in the pool, so Chris joined you, putting on a black cap before getting in and gradually getting in, wetting his body little by little.
“Agh, the water is nice” he added, getting his body completely wet, his marked abs and pecs showing through the thin fabric of the shirt.
Your heart raced again, you couldn't believe Ruby had him every day while you and Liv only had hair loss from the stress of your college. You and Liv stood transfixed watching him, as if it was such an entertaining spectacle. And when he approached, you both snapped out of your trance and pretended to look away, which Chris noticed and smirked, yes he knew he was all handsome and hot, but he was curious to know if you two also considered yourselves that way to such a degree that you dared to flirt with him.
And you began to play mindlessly, ball games, Liv getting on a float, swimming, all with Chris's nerve to watch your wet young bodies, watching the sun beat down on your skins; then you wanted to mimic Liv, getting on a float but found it difficult to get on somehow, to which Chris quickly took advantage, once again leaving Liv surprised.
“Let me help you” he whispered to you, holding your exposed waist to carry you up and onto the float.
Your breathing and heart stopped for a moment, his big hands on your waist felt so good, you couldn't believe he dared to touch you, you didn't want to make it a big deal, you wanted to believe he just did it out of kindness but you were screaming with excitement internally.
A little awkwardly, giving him the view of your ass and thighs, you were able to climb on, shyly whispering thank you. Chris swallowed nervously, your semi-naked skin made him feel good and your ankle accidentally brushed against his member as he lifted you up. He needed another cigarette to forget about you for a few moments, or he definitely had to try you. It wasn't news that, he before Ruby, was quite the gentleman who loved to enjoy the pleasures of sex with different women.
“And don't you have a farm sort of place to spend the winter when it snows?” suddenly blurted out Liv.
“Do you want to spend the winter with me too? Do you like me that much?” he joked.
“Sure, you're the best, Uncle Chris” your cousin replied again in amusement.
He grimaced in disgust, he loved it when girls called him daddy in bed, or just as a form of endearment, when he rarely messed with women relatively much younger to him, but uncle, coming from another young woman who he considered highly attractive, didn't like the idea.
“Uh no, just Chris, please,” and then he turned to you, “And you, you're not directly related to Ruby, are you?”
“She's family, but not by blood” replied Liv innocently, but Chris was a little annoyed, as he wanted to hear you talk , so he still didn't take his expectant gaze off you.
“My father married Ruby's sister” you replied, almost just to humor him and get him to take off that expression of waiting to hear you speak because it was making you nervous.
“I know” he whispered.
And before long you knew a little more about him, that he is an architect with his own company, his parents are two of the top lawyers, that he knows three languages and has a passion for technology like computers or things like that and, the question that gnawed at them both and Liv asked, how did he meet Ruby, as he seemed quite busy and an extremely wealthy and decent man, but just at the mention of her, she appeared. She had taken a nap and suddenly wondered where her boyfriend was, to which her surprise, he was friendly talking to her two young nieces inside the pool, while they were wearing a bikini, she couldn't help but feel a little jealous, but decided to put it aside, and wanted to be a cool aunt:
“Let's give the girls some drinks, they're old enough.”
Chris thought how old enough, looking appreciatively at your body on the float, wearing your red bikini and your heart-shaped glasses of the same color. How old enough were you, that you could handle being with him? He wanted to know more about you and questioned himself why he had never met you before, although his answer was obvious to him, usually Chris didn't look for young and college girls, it was very strange the occasion when he decided to sleep with them and spoil them —as it is one of his techniques— he still considered them so young and naive, even a little bit kooky and spoiled… but you, he bit his lip again, thinking that he could very well be your daddy, and that he would love to spoil you and spank your young ass. He loved being dominant but it was very strange the situation where his mind formulated these ideas of wanting to take care of a naive woman and give her everything, being slightly careful, and you had exactly aroused those thoughts in him.
Ruby also got into the pool, showing off her impressive figure, leaving Chris a little shocked, but he couldn't stop thinking about you. You looked away, unwilling to see them together.
[…]
For the rest of the evening you caught up on Liv's life, as she recounted her sexual encounters, her love life status, her college environment until it was time for dinner.
You couldn't help but think that it didn't matter if you flirted, if anything happened, you wouldn't know what to do and probably wouldn't satisfy him, you were inexperienced and a virgin, which you never made a big deal about it, but for some reason you thought about so many sexual things lately since he awakened your desire.
Dinner was normal and a little strange, eating all together, your last family dinner was maybe on your birthday. And Chris realized that your father and he were the only men, so he thought at one point to invite one of his closest friends, plus he needed him, the tension between you and Chris was growing, or at least his desire for you.
The next morning you went downstairs for breakfast, not even hungry, but you just wanted to see Chris, but he wasn't there since he was supposedly still working and you didn't see him until the afternoon. You took the opportunity to update your swimsuits and take a walk to the beach with Liv. Chris was also confused not to find you at his house, until he saw you arrive with shopping bags.
That evening he convinced his close friend Minho to stay with him too for the summer as Chris had to confess to him the reason and Minho saw with his own eyes and understood why.
Once again you wanted Chris' attention and you had no choice but to go out dressed up all the time, feeling cute, since you kind of sucked at flirting. And you got the pleasant surprise of finding another handsome man next to him.
Chris introduced Minho to you and Liv, and your mind flew with the crazy idea of a man for each other, that maybe so at least Liv would stop thinking about Chris a little bit, because honestly you wanted him for yourself only, when he was already taken, and wasn't yours in the first place. But you weren't the only one with that crazy thought, Liv was so happy that Chris got her own handsome older man to have fun with in the summer.
Minho was also so handsome, he had a muscular body too but his features were softer to Chris'. He also looked intimidating.
The next day was odder, Liv and Minho disappeared, leaving you in disbelief with the ease of things that circumstances work, when both are single, or at least you wanted to believe that Minho was single, or honestly you could care less, at least Liv didn't know his life that much, let alone if he was in a relationship with someone so the guilt didn't exist in her body; but in yours it did, Chris was Ruby's and you couldn't even hate her, your stepmother's whole family was so sweet to you, Dahlia thought you were a real daughter to her because she could never conceive and was afraid to adopt.
You were bored without Liv, you sent her messages but she didn't answer, she must be having a great day in Minho's arms, but lucky her, you thought between sighs; so bored you started to explore the house a bit until you reached a long hallway, at the end of it you saw that there was a family photograph which caught your attention, there were not so many memories of family photos of Chris so it caught your attention and you approached it, next to it there was a large room, which had the door open and you stopped in your tracks when you realized that it was Chris' office, and that he was sitting behind his desk, who quickly heard your footsteps and turned to see you.
You didn't know what to do and smiled nervously at him and he amusedly thought that all ways always led you to him. Chris quickly stood up from his chair, put his pencil aside as he was working on a project and walked dangerously close to you.
“You were looking for me?”
His flirtatious tone and the way he gently raised his eyebrow gave you chills again.
You denied, but you didn't want to get away from him.
“But I found you” you replied.
He invited you in with his gaze, closing the door once you entered, you looked around the place and Chris looked boldly at you. Your young, bare legs with your tiny skirt and your slightly carefree look as you were comfortable in his home.
Chris without thinking, went to his desk and out of habit took a cigarette, he couldn't help it, he was a recurrent smoker, not an addict, but he liked to smoke one or two cigarettes a day, or two cigarettes one day and then quit for several days without a problem, but just now he couldn't think about anything but enjoying your company, your presence and aroma combined with a little of his nicotine.
You thought that even though he smoked and you didn't like the smell, on him, he looked good and you liked him, you liked him so much that you forgot your little inconveniences and thought he didn't smell of cigarettes, he had a strong scent of a manly perfume that you found highly pleasing.
Chris put his cig between his lips and you saw him take another one, thinking he was going to offer you one but you noticed he took a pen and with his big hands, which drove you crazy and you had recurring thoughts of his fingers in your mouth, you saw he wrote a series of numbers on the cigarette; he took a lighter and lit his cigarette quickly, taking his first puff, sucking air between his teeth and then holding the cigarette delicately between his two fingers, then passing you the cigarette with the written numbers and saying to you:
“Do you want it?”
You took it, only to see the numbers on what you quickly noticed was a phone number and before he took the lighter once more you said, “I don't smoke.”
“Well, that's my phone number, since apparently it looks a little bad for us to be together and we need to be more discreet.”
Your mind stopped processing what he said, he inhaled again from the cigarette, exhaling all the smoke, losing it in the bright sunlight coming through the windows, he looked so fucking hot your legs were almost starting to shake, he walked over to you and put his free hand on your waist.
“Let's have fun this summer, I know you want me and I can't get you out of my fucking head” he spoke and you felt it unreal, for a moment you stopped thinking about everyone, it was just Chris and you, fuck the rest, “Relax a little with me, I don't bite unless you ask me to” he whispered, leaning into your ear, noticing your tense body.
He pulled away, stubbing out his cigarette in his ashtray and sitting back in his chair.
“Come here” he ordered patting his thigh.
He was wearing a white button up shirt and black formal cloth pants, you were so wet at his appearance, you were wet knowing he was older than you and dressed elegantly, you were wet at the way he asked you to sit on his lap.
Chris couldn't take it anymore, from the first night he met you, after seeing you so provocative in your bikini, he masturbated thinking about you, pulling and stroking his cock hard, filling his mind with scenarios where you were all needy, wet, making a mess and begging for him, until he cummed. He couldn't even fuck his girlfriend, his cock only reacted to you apparently. He needed you, all day he thought about how his friend did get to fuck the other girl with no problem while he was stuck there, but not anymore as you happily sat on his lap, feeling so happy, feeling the friction of fabric of his pants on your thighs as you moved to get comfortable, causing him tenderness at your reaction.
“Mmm, I guess you want it too by obey me, don't you babygirl?” he murmured, caressing your thighs and making you shiver.
Your mind spun like crazy, wanting what what, you didn't know but yes, you needed him like you had never needed anyone, your mind was lost in his closeness and that it's finally happening. You really tried to be strong too, but you lost it. He was caressing you, bringing his hands up tentatively so high almost in your intimate zone.
“Yes…” you answered in a whisper.
“Then just kiss me, babygirl, I'm dying to taste your lips since the first moment I saw you.”
You turned your face and met the closeness of his, without thinking too much, you joined your lips with his, feeling his slight cigarette taste together with a soft and fresh sensation, your hand shyly rested from his shoulder, your inside was burning, you felt as if fireworks were detaching inside you. At first it was sweet and gentle, but then he changed his pace to something slower but desperate and lustful, opening your mouth and feeling his expert tongue caress your cavity, leaving you breathless but addicted to the feel of each other.
Chris found his way to your pussy, opening your legs slightly and without wasting time, he pushed the fabric of your panties aside, playing with your clit, making you gasp and take a moment away from his lips. You were now focused on his fingertips caressing you.
Chris licked his lips, leering at you and admiring the slight trembling of your body from pleasure. By this point, he too was already so hard with an erection protruding from his pants.
“You're so wet and needy, let me take care of you” he moaned.
You were almost about to cum with his caresses on your clit, his movements on it, his light pinching and pressure towards it, turning you on so much, but his fingers went down your wet folds, in search of your entrance and, you realized what he would do, it still surprised and hurt a little to feel two of his fingers inside you. You moaned louder at the sensation of his digits sliding into your virgin hole, as did Chris who let out a groan, unable to believe you were so tight, even being in that position, sitting on his lap, there was no reason for your insides to squeeze his fingers so tight, he had never felt a pussy like that before, like yours, he love every second of it, he was obsessed.
“Fuck” blubbered Chris, “You like that, don't you, little doll?”
You whimpered high pitched in response, his fingers began to penetrate you and his thumb went back to caressing your clit and labia, making you feel like you had never felt before. You were so hot, you wanted to strip off all your clothes and feel something bigger fill your pussy, you were a mess, moaning and shivering at his hand on your cunt.
“Tell daddy how much you like it, babygirl, call me daddy when I'm touching so good your pussy” he gasped.
“Yes, daddy I love it, please don't stop” you whimpered in a squeak, feeling your orgasm so close as your heart pounded intensely.
Your first orgasm caused by a man. Daddy, daddy, daddy, you thought it fit him so well, he was older than you, and you could tell he liked to be in control. He could command you whatever he wanted, he could be in charge, your panties got wetter as you fantasized about how dominant he was. He was so hard, analyzing every part of you and enjoying your body fading for him.
You were about to cum, your pussy moistening Chris's fingers more and more, your thighs quivering and the feeling of clenching in your stomach, you were so close… but the sound of heels down the hall and door handle turning startled you too much, Chris removed his fingers from you abruptly, hurting you a little but you stood up instantly, adjusting your skirt and resting your hands on his desk, turning your back to the door. Chris picked up a book that was on his desk, opened it and held it with his hand whose fingers were touching you earlier, over his cock, at an angle where you couldn't see his erection and the small wet spot you left on his pants.
“Hey” you heard and turned your body, hiding the cigarette and found Ruby all smiles but then grimaced, “Fuck, Chris, did you smoke here? Anyways, Liv and Minho arrived with the shoppings, should I start the… grill?”
You and Chris simultaneously looked at each other, looking scared and guilty.
“No, it's okay baby, I'll go downstairs in a minute.”
“Oh, you found each other, didn't you” Ruby added, leaving you confused, “Y/n it's a little artist too, she draws and paints well” she confirmed, referencing that Chris was doing a sketch.
He didn't know that and wanted to know more about you. But fate was not in your favor this time.
“Are you okay, honey, you're sweating and look a little red?” said Ruby worriedly.
You were so wet and hot, your fluids bothered you, but you had to pretend to be okay, so much so that you went outside pretending nothing was wrong, watching the stupid grill burn, almost as much as your insides, you kept fantasizing if Ruby hadn't interrupted you what would have happened, maybe you would have tasted and had another piece of meat in your mouth before the one Minho was cooking.
You watched him, who stood next to Minho, looking manly grilling the meat. Chris had changed his clothes, now wearing jeans and a black sleeveless shirt. You felt a little jealous that you didn't even want to ask Liv if anything happened with Minho, you wanted your own moment with Chris no matter what. Chris noticed your look and in a whisper said to his friend:
“I kissed her and touched her.”
“Woah, good for you dude, what did I tell you about college girls? They are all trouble makers but they know how to take care of you very well” Minho encouraged him smilingly, giving him a friendly pat.
“But we were interrupted and now I feel guilty, I don't think I should have done it…”
You took your phone and amidst impatience, texted him, just telling him Hey and watched as he immediately pulled his phone out of his pocket, seeing the message but ignored it.
“My sexual fantasy is a threesome with Minho and Chris, imagine their two cocks pleasuring you. I'm kinda horny right now” Liv spoke as if nothing, seeing herself on her cell phone camera, snapping you out of your trance.
So were you. In fact she was talking but you weren't paying attention, you weren't that greedy, Chris's cock was really enough for you.
[…]
It was late at night, everyone was sleeping, but you noticed the pool house light on through the window, you didn't know what it was about, but you were thankful that you were a little lazy to remove your makeup and quietly put your clothes back on, taking off your pajamas, with the slightest hope that, maybe it was Chris being alone, or in the worst case, him with his girlfriend.
You texted him but he didn't respond and you were impatient so you carefully went downstairs quietly and managed to get outside, walking up to the property and slowly entered the house, which was literally another house, just a little smaller. And you found Chris with his back turned sitting in the chairs leaning against the kitchen counter.
He turned to see who it was and smiled broadly at the sight of you. You also noticed that he was drinking and smoking, or at least you saw a couple of cigarettes in the ashtray and apparently he was alone. You approached him, so excited with adrenaline at its peak to see that he could be all by himself. He smiled at you, so wide that he narrowed his eyes, he wasn't expecting you but he was just thinking about you, he couldn't sleep, you drove him crazy, when he saw you, it seemed almost like a dream since he was starting to get a little drunk.
You sat down on the chair next to him and noticed his almost empty glass of hard liquor.
“What are you doing here?” you whispered to him.
“I'm just… drinking a little” he replied, his tone of voice low and almost slurring his words.
“By yourself?”
“Minho just left, wanna join me?”
You shook your head softly, you really didn't want to drink, you wanted to kiss him passionately, and more so knowing you were alone. But Chris went there because he couldn't sleep and he kept thinking about it in that he felt a little guilty but at the same time he wanted to do so many things to you, you looked innocent, you were young and his deepest desire was to corrupt you so badly.
You decided to get bold and just blurted out:
“Why don't we continue what we were doing… I didn't get to cum.”
Chris let out a chuckle in disbelief at your comment and analyzed you, from your face with your makeup intact, to your thighs uncovered by your skirt with very easy access to him.
“Who would have thought, you look so innocent… but you are quite the dirty little whore. You want me to make you cum, huh?”
His comment made your skin bristle and gave you shivers, both for your body, and for your pussy, causing it to twinge with arousal in your sensitive core. Everything about him turned you on so much.
“Yes…”
“And what will you do for me?” he asked so quickly as soon as you answered, looking at you defiantly.
You stood there thinking for a few seconds, "You want… me to make you cum too?" you spoke uncertainly.
“I wanna see it” he challenged you, “I like you a lot” he confessed, getting carried away with the moment and the alcohol doing its thing.
You smiled, stood up from the chair and moved closer to him, Chris turned his body and let position yours between his legs, you wrapped your arms around his neck, he grabbed your waist and you, close to his lips, reciprocated his confession.
“I like you a lot too, Chris.”
He smiled, coming back to all his senses, leaving the effect of the alcohol aside, so awake and ready for you, he raised his eyebrows, wanting to correct you, lowering his hands to your ass, you understood immediately.
“I like you, daddy” you repeated.
“That's my good girl.”
You felt your body burn on fire, that had sounded so good to you, more so coming from his voice and him. You moved in with a smile to kiss him, savoring the taste of the liquor on his full lips, spending long minutes of him running down your body and both of you completely lost in each other's lips, feeling his tongue and nose collide on your face, kissing was such an intimate act, something you loved to do with Chris, whose erection in his pants grew sky high, his throbbing cock ready to be used.
Chris couldn't take it anymore, he wanted your pretty mouth around his cock, he wanted to fuck your throat until he made you cry. As he pulled away he admired your heaving breathing and swollen lips, he thought this was just the beginning of more to come.
“Fuck” he whispered with a little pain from his erection stuck in his jeans.
You watched him, for a few seconds somewhat transfixed and realized he was just as turned on as you were, you stared at the bulge in his pants, not wanting to wait any longer to get his cock out at once, but he went ahead to say.
“C'mon babygirl, feel how hard daddy is for you, and make me feel good, be a good girl.”
You got so excited, as if you had won a prize and lowered your arms off his shoulders so you could feel his hard member between the also tough denim of his jeans. You bit your lip and unbuttoned his pants. Chris gasped, breathing raggedly knowing you were about to attend to his cock. You finally released it, wanting to experience everything with it and getting the big surprise of how nice and big it looked, just as veiny as his arms. You took it, completely forgetting that you were a poor college virgin girl and, that he would most likely end up fucking you and you couldn't agree more, you could remember that your virginity was taken by a man who knows what he's doing, millionaire, incredibly handsome with a colossal cock to die for.
You stroked his glans with your thumb and spread his precum over his length, it was your first time feeling a penis in your hand, for the moment, at least Chris's, it felt so good, its texture was smooth but his muscle was so tight and rigid. Chris for his part, gasped enjoying the feel of your hands on his cock and watched you look so impressed, almost as if you were studying every part of his anatomy, making you look a little more innocent but daring.
You acted with common sense, and began to slide your hands up and down his member, stroking his length from top to bottom, making him feel great. Chris bit his lip and inhaled air between his teeth, so excited he could cum right then and there. He didn't know exactly how to ask you, but he really wanted your mouth on his cock.
“Babygirl, use your mouth please, please” Chris babbled, caressing your face, admiring it before it was ruined by his cock in your mouth and the constant motion.
Your pussy throbbed harder at the thought of sucking him off and you dropped to your knees, unconsciously sighing nervously, making Chris feel the warm air of your sigh, now giving him shivers of pure arousal.
You looked into his eyes before bringing his cock closer to your mouth, to which he looked at you approvingly, subtly shaking his head encouraging you to do so.
You stuck out your tongue and licked his entire length, losing more and more strength, you were so aroused, trembling and twitching with your hot body, until he said,
“Open your mouth wide, baby doll.”
He helped you a little, guiding his cock into your mouth, finally slowly pushing it in, doing your best to make him enjoy it, which you felt a knot in your stomach of nervousness and excitement as Chris moaned loudly, letting you know you were getting off to a good start. He fisted your hair, completely ready to be satisfied.
You sucked his cock, sucking your cheeks and giving your best effort to get as much of his length as you could deep inside your cavity. Chris moaned again incredibly enjoying the also tightness of your mouth and softness of the inside of your cheeks. He watched you the whole time, your lips wrapped around his cock, the tender expression of concentration and struggle on your face, he could cum just from the image of you taking his length.
You started to move, his whole member didn't fit in your cavity, but you did your best, your eyes were starting to bother you a little, you were starting to form little tears, your nose got slick and your jaw hurt a little, but it was worth it, it was so worth it, Chris's moans were so hot to you that you never wanted to stop. You began to move your mouth, taking as much as you could, making Chris lose his sanity little by little, he helped you, pulling on your hair gently and pushing your head to move up and down exquisitely. Your movements were imperfect but from your little details Chris became more aroused and fantasized about your innocence again.
Your saliva combined with his precum began to slip from your lips and you took a breath, pulling his cock out of your mouth, Chris took advantage and quickly stood up from his chair, you looked with confusion at his action and he lifted your chin with his fingers, making you stare into his eyes.
“You're doing great, good girl, but let daddy fuck your throat, are you okay with that?”
Your eyes sparkled brighter despite the little tears you shed, you were scared but nodded so excited. “Yes, daddy” you said.
Chris took his cock almost by its base and opened his mouth slightly indicating you to do the same, causing you tenderness, and you did, his cock and your mouth meeting again, inserting it little by little, until you felt his skin tickle your uvula, your body shuddered, you closed your eyes tightly, he was huge, but you tried to hold back with all your might your gag reflex, Chris shifted his hips and finally you felt his cock sliding down your throat, taking him pure to heaven, you thought of everything, of Chris swimming next to you, of you sitting on his lap, trying to forget the slight discomfort and tingling that his penis was causing in your throat. Chris gasped loudly, and began to move gently, ramming into you, completely filled with sexual pleasure at the feel of his cock inside another strategic spot of yours.
You looked up at him, your watery eyes begging for mercy, your body was weak and your stomach sensitive; you cried harder, drooling non-stop, dripping his testicles and even the floor; unable to breathe or speak, just his balls rubbing against your face, his pubic area bumping against your nose and his cock stretching your throat, with his glans rubbing against your esophagus. You were doing so well, for your first time, and Chris was so happy to remind you of it, moaning senselessly completely lost amidst the pleasure, babbling swear words and whimpering, “You feel so good, babygirl, I'm gonna cum in your throat sweetie.”
But you felt so good, in desperation and helpless, with nothing to do but obey him and make him feel good, your pussy throbbed harder and harder, with the same intensity of an orgasm but you weren't sure if you were about to cum.
You felt Chris's body tremble, a loud gasp escaped his lips and you felt the shot of his hot cum inside your pharynx, he was having a wonderful orgasm like he had never had before, even making him shudder and lose his sanity and consciousness; Chris gently tugged at your hair, gently pulling his cock out of you so as not to hurt you, while he kept collapsing in his orgasm, cumming still on your tongue inside your mouth, spilling a few drops around your mouth.
“Good girl, swallow everything, there you go, good princess” he spoke softly caressing your face, watching you swallow hard and with heavy breathing “C'mon up here. Look at you, your face is a mess, my pretty baby. So fucked up for daddy's cock.”
He smirked at the sight of your face stained red, your cheeks shiny from your tears and your lips dirty and swollen from him.
You stood up and Chris wiped your chin stained in his cum with his thumb and then slipped it into your mouth, which you sucked it hard.
“Let's go to the room” he spoke excitedly, arranging his cock in his underwear and pants to take you by your wrist and lead you to the room.
You were surprised that it could practically be a small apartment with all the amenities with no problem and once you entered his room, he kissed you wildly again, tasting his own cum, feeling the wetness of your lips, and began to undress you, yanking off your skirt, parting from you to remove your top and bra and leaving the best part of taking off your panties at the end.
Chris bit his lip as he slid your panties off, bending down and placing soft kisses on your lower belly all the way down to your mons pubis.
“Fuck, you're beautiful, babydoll.”
He kissed your skin, to then put his warm tongue in and sticking his lips tightly to finally suck, leaving a mark on you and making you gasp softly, he looked up, searching your gaze, leering at you playfully, he couldn't believe he finally had you all to himself. Chris stood back up and quickly began to undress as well, leaving you dumbfounded at how incredibly attractive he looked as he lifted his strong arms to remove his shirt, unbuttoning his pants and nimbly removing his them along his underwear, as you finally stood naked in front of each other, with his prominent and slightly intimidating cock exposed, it dawned on you that, it was tonight the night you would lose your virginity.
He leaned close to your ear, whispering hotly, “I want your pretty pussy in my face, sit on daddy's face princess, please.”
You shivered and watched as Chris lay back on the bed, you quickly followed him, biting your lip unsure how you would do it, but completely sure what it was all about. You climbed onto the bed and positioned your pussy in his mouth, embarrassed to let yourself fall into it, but you did, giving a little jump of shock as you felt his tongue on your vulva, Chris took hold of your thighs, to lift you up and guide your pussy to his liking and disposal. You felt his fleshy lips kiss the full length of your folds and his big nose squeezing your vulva hard each time he gently shifted positions in your pussy, making the sensation a hundred times better. Chris licked and sucked intensely and thoroughly on your clit, making your thighs quiver in desperation and pleasure, you were so close but for some reason the sensation of your near orgasm was dragging on longer and longer, building up in intensity; Chris slid his tongue, licking your labia and reaching your entrance, sucking making a soft, sonorous slurping sound of your soaking wet pussy. You were on cloud nine, completely out of thoughts, your vision blurred and enjoying your first oral sex, with an older man who was an expert at every single thing he did, you couldn't have asked for anything better.
Chris lifted you up a little and said:
“Ride me, babygirl, fuck my tongue, move over, fuck.”
Then inserted his tongue inside you, making you gasp loudly, even his tongue was reaching a sweet spot in you that made you lose your mind again. You began to move, back and forth, enjoying the sensation of him; you threw your head back with your eyes rolling, Chris caressed your breasts with one hand, pinching your nipples, then bringing that hand quickly to his cock, as it was twitching, and ached a little, Chris stroked his cock and cum intensely in his abs. Sliding scattered drops down his length. Boy had he loved eating you and the delicious taste of your young fluids.
Finally, you came to your orgasm too, so intensely that you felt sorry for yourself at the thought that maybe you had made a mess on Chris. But he was so happy, tasting every drop of you. Awkwardly, you went down on top of him, and dropped your exhausted body on the bed, with the slightest idea that maybe it still left him wanting to fuck you… still you reminded him:
“That was great, daddy, th-thank you.”
Your chest heaved up and down, your world was a blur, the sensations were so new and good to you that your delicate body was exhausted.
“Oh, my pretty baby,” Chris said tenderly.
He sat up, wiping his mouth and chin, parting your legs and positioning his face dangerously in front of your pussy. A mischievous grin formed on his face.
“I'm gonna fuck your pretty pussy, baby, daddy's not done with you yet.”
Chris went back to stroking your clit with his fingertips, getting you wet in seconds. He watched you, panting and a mess for quite a while but Chris wouldn't stop until he felt your guts. An electric shiver ran down your spine, Chris stopped stroking your clit, spit on your vulva, positioned himself and took his erection, rubbing and stroking in your folds his hard length in your puffy, well lubricated pussy, making you more needy until at last, you felt his tip slide into your orifice, stretching every muscle at your entrance, gradually filling your insides, causing Chris to whimper halfheartedly at the sensation of your core deliciously smothering his cock. You gasped in pain and pleasure until you felt his glans tingle deep inside you in your cervix, Chris finally popped your cherry that night. You were a woman now, at least in a context of traditional and conservative phrases, wishing you were his woman every day.
You were a little sore, but so excited, you still asked him, “Da-dddy, can you move slow, please?”
He smiled tenderly at you, “Whatever my babydoll asks.”
His cock was buried in your core and Chris began to gently ram your pussy, kissing you slowly on the lips and moving his caresses down to your neck, it felt so good and when you finally felt you had gotten used to and adjusted to his size, you shyly asked him:
“F-faster daddy, please” you stammered.
Chris smiled sideways and started ramming you deeper and faster, sliding carelessly into your walls, making you gasp in pain but it felt so good, his cock filling every inch of you, you couldn't help but feel haunted by the sensation. Your thighs squeezed his body and your body began to move uncontrollably, your breasts jiggled roughly at each thrust and your insides burned with desire and for his big new visitor. His body collided with yours non-stop, you were breathless, aching and about to cum intensely.
Chris was babbling and moaning things you couldn't understand, he was so close to cumming in you, completely fixated on your insides squeezing his cock. You arched your back, contracting your body, ready to release in your second orgasm.
“Cum for me, fuck, cum on daddy's cock. You like that huh? You like to be fucked hard?”
“Fuuuck, daddy yesss” you squealed, cumming and wetting his cock.
You fell down in surrender, Chris rammed you a couple of times, deeper to climax in you, with the sensation of his cum shot hitting your cervix. Chris pulled out of you, admiring the dirty artistry of your little hole quivering and spurting his bright white cum. Getting him hard in seconds again. Satisfying him so much by leaving you so weak.
“And I'm not done yet, princess.”
You blinked suddenly and Chris grabbed your arm, making you turn around, he opened your folds, exposing your newly destroyed hole, still wet in each other's cum and, he pushed his cock back into you, making you whimper, you were barely recovering when you felt the firmness of his huge cock again in your walls, this time he went in fast, his whole cock, ramming into your pussy, hitting your ass because you didn't even have time to settle, you were lying down, face down, panting and somehow, extremely aroused again.
Chris pounded you hard again, so brutal and primal releasing every frustration of his in your weak body, ramming you hard, making your ass vibrate every time his pelvis and balls collapsed into you. He moved in on you, his arm headlocking you, tightening his grip harder and harder, cutting off your breath slowly without stopping thrusting hard into you.
“You like that, don't you sweet baby? Fuck! You feel so good.”
You couldn't even answer him, besides the fact that he was slowly suffocating you, you couldn't think clearly, you only heard his gasps, yours and the sound of your bodies colliding at such a frantic act. You were so close, just as he was, your breathing was completely cut off, you heard his panting close to your ear, this time you trembled more intensely, and your vision blurred more, begging for air, but in desperation, you cum intensely, almost making yourself cry. Chris softened his grip, letting you catch your breath and cum in you again, spurting out quickly and ejaculating a few loads in your ass.
You couldn't take it anymore. You even forgot your name. You could only remember Chris, who pushed your hair aside and kissed your back.
“That was amazing, beautiful. We're going to have a really fun summer.”
He couldn't help but think of all the ways he wanted to fuck you, treating you like a doll, showering you with pampering afterwards, but damn it, he had to break up with his girlfriend.
You were trying to come back to your senses, but you were so tired and could only think that, somehow, you loved him, and didn't know exactly why.
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𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89
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merchen-aeravellae · 2 months ago
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A Yandere Through Time
Yandere Time Traveler x Royal Reader
Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, forced confinement, obsession
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No one knows who created it, but every owner of the mysterious mirror has met a fate so tragic it chills anyone to the bone. The mirror appeared out of nowhere, wandering from hand to hand, from life to life. At first glance, it seems like a blessing, but in reality, it is a curse in disguise. If you cross paths with it, beware: it offers you your deepest desire, but the price is your sanity.
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Yandere Time Traveler who is dedicated to collecting antiques, a passion that has been passed down through generations in his family since the famous Rosa Era. Each member of his lineage has their own personal museum. His collection not only includes legally acquired pieces but also artifacts that the world does not know exist and are in his possession.
Yandere Time Traveler who is mainly dedicated to purchasing items from the Roja Era, not because it is his favorite time period, but because his favorite person lived during that time. The fifth child of a king who ruled what is now his city, the castle where they lived still stands proudly on the outskirts of the city, now converted into a museum that he visits weekly as a way to be close to his beloved
Yandere Time Traveler who has been intrigued by your story since childhood: a member of the royal family beloved by his family, the common people, and even his enemies. One day, you disappeared from your own home, and no one ever heard from you again. Everyone searched exhaustively for decades but never found you. A group of people tried to exploit the situation by impersonating you to gain all the luxuries and privileges that rightfully belonged to you. Only one person resembled you both in appearance and manner of speaking. The only problem was that nearly 70 years had passed since your disappearance, and this person was too young to be you. In the end, their husband had to clarify that they were suffering from mental issues, and as a result, no one took them seriously.
Yandere Time Traveler who feels like a lunatic: how could he be in love with someone who lived nearly two hundred years ago? However, he has always felt a connection to you, and the only way he finds to be near you is by acquiring all your belongings through illegal auctions. Selling and buying items related to you is prohibited in his country; museums tirelessly search for all your belongings across the continent to display them alongside those of your family. But he is faster and acquires everything before the museums can get their hands on it.
Yandere Time Traveler who, of all your belongings, has searched the black markets most fervently for your hat. In the Roja Era, royalty did not use crowns to show their lineage; instead, they used special and unique hats to demonstrate their noble position. The hats of your sisters and brothers are in the castle museum, but yours was never found. The theory is that you wore it the day you disappeared, and wherever you are, the hat is with you.
Yandere Time Traveler who acquired a mirror from an antique shop during a sale. He didn't know what era it was from, but its beauty convinced him to place it in the room dedicated to you. The mirror carried a dark legend: all its owners ended up losing their sanity or disappearing without a trace. However, he was not intimidated, believing it was just people's tales. He was sure you would have been fascinated by it, imagining you using it to admire your reflection while trying on clothes.
Yandere Time Traveler who, one night, woke up startled by strange noises coming from a nearby room. With silent steps, he approached to discover the source of the sound, but his concern grew when he realized the noises were coming from the room dedicated to his beloved. He immediately thought someone had broken in to steal something from his valuable collection. Wasting no time, he grabbed a bat he had purchased a couple of weeks ago, perfect for defending himself against an intruder. Upon entering the room, he found no one, but the mirror looked different. Strange figures were forming on its surface, and he couldn't resist the temptation to touch it. It was as if the mirror was calling to him. However, the moment his fingers brushed against the glass, he lost consciousness.
Yandere Time Traveler who woke up with a terrible headache. As he opened his eyes, he realized he was lying on a wooden bed that creaked with the slightest movement. The room was unfamiliar, filled with objects that didn’t match his home. The walls were made of wood. Various items adorned the space, from wooden toys to old tools, along with portraits and simple household decorations. As his vision adjusted, he noticed a small window allowing the morning sunlight to illuminate the room. The smell of wax, burnt wood, and a faint scent of food filled his nose.
Yandere Time Traveler who panicked. He tried to get out of the bed to figure out where he was, but only succeeded in worsening his headache from the sudden movement. He heard footsteps coming toward him. Fear took over as he desperately looked for something to defend himself with. But before he could act, the door opened, and an old woman entered the room, calmly looking at him.
Yandere Time Traveler who discovered that he was in the house of an elderly couple. They had found him unconscious at their doorstep and, out of compassion, had taken care of him ever since. Maybe he had gone mad because nothing made sense. The date on the calendar in their house showed that it was 200 years before his own time. It wasn’t possible that he had traveled to the past. Maybe he had hit his head, and all of this was just a delusion, a hallucination caused by the injury. Perhaps he was in a hospital, in a coma, dreaming a nonsensical fantasy.
Yandere Time Traveler, unable to find a way back to his own time, was now trying to adjust to his new life. The elderly couple who had taken him in gave him work in their small antique shop and allowed him to live in their home. In return, he had to handle the heavier tasks, like feeding the animals, repairing anything that broke, and keeping the shop in order.
Yandere Time Traveler was organizing some items in the shop when he heard the bustle of a crowd outside. The voices and shouting filled the street, but he didn’t even bother looking out the window. He didn’t care what celebration or festival was taking place outside. Everything went quiet for a while until the shop bell rang. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone, but it was his job. With a fake smile, he greeted the customers who had entered.
Yandere Time Traveler was startled to see a familiar face. It wasn’t someone he had met in person, but someone he had seen in portraits—it was the crown princess of Adrionia. Adrionia was the name of his city when the monarchy still existed. Although he knew he was in the Roja Era, he never imagined he would meet a member of the royal family in a place like this. The heir was about to speak when a pair of voices interrupted from the hallway in front of them.
Yandere Time Traveler who was shocked to see the rest of the royal siblings there. His heart swelled with longing; if they were here, it meant that you must also be here. He couldn't help but search for you among the crowd, but he couldn’t find you. His hope deflated into sadness, until someone emerged from one of the back hallways, holding a trinket in their hands.
Yandere Time Traveler who wanted to die right then and there—you were standing before him, the love of his life. As you asked your sister to buy the trinket for you, he couldn’t help but admire you. You were even more beautiful in person; the paintings didn’t do you justice. He wanted to leap over the counter to be closer to you, but he knew if he did that, he'd be thrown into the dungeon. All he could do was watch you from where he stood, his heart pounding at a thousand miles an hour.
Yandere Time Traveler who felt you so close, yet so unattainable. As he rang up your sister’s purchase, he never took his eyes off you for a second. He watched you with a mix of fascination and desperation, knowing that this might be the only time he’d ever be so near you. And just as you had appeared, you left. His world crumbled with each step you took toward the exit, moving further away from him.
Yandere Time Traveler who couldn’t stop thinking about you after that encounter. His heart filled with yearning to see you again. Now that he had seen you in the flesh, he couldn't allow everything to end with just one brief meeting. He needed to see you once more, needed you in his life in a more permanent, closer way. But he knew he couldn’t just approach you without a plan—and for that, he needed to scheme carefully.
Yandere Time Traveler who decided to use his knowledge of the past to his advantage. He began calling himself a prophet and would go out to the town square to “predict” events he already knew would happen soon. At first, people looked at him with skepticism, and many called him crazy. But when his predictions started coming true with eerie accuracy, everything changed. Word spread throughout the kingdom about his visions, and people gathered in the square to hear him speak. It wasn’t long before the royals heard of him and summoned him to the castle. Everything was going according to plan.
Yandere Time Traveler who was tested by the court, but he was ready for whatever challenge came his way. He “predicted” the betrayal of a court member, and a week later, a respected and seemingly unblemished noble was discovered stealing large sums from the royal treasury. The impressed kings offered him a permanent position at the castle. His goal was now within reach. Every day, he grew closer to you. He knew you better than you knew yourself and was confident that soon you would fall in love with him.
Yandere Time Traveler who, over time, befriended the royal family, but you were different. You seemed deeply distrustful of him. Every time he tried to approach you, you fled. If he entered a room through the door, you left through the window. The more frequent these encounters became, the more frustrated he felt. He left you gifts, but you discarded them. The letters he sent, you burned in the fireplace. And every time he tried to speak to you, you ignored him. Couldn’t you see that destiny was bringing you together? Why did you run from him as if he carried some contagious disease?
Yandere Time Traveler who knew he had to be patient, but every moment away from you felt like a blow to the heart. Then, during a casual meeting with your brothers, everything he had worked for unraveled. Without meaning to, your brother let it slip that you were seeing someone in secret—a mere guard, someone far beneath him. He had to keep his composure; he couldn’t afford to break his facade in front of them. But all he wanted to do was rush out and bury that filthy man deep in the earth.
Yandere Time Traveler who now understood everything. You had always rejected his efforts because you already had someone in your life. The idea of you being with someone else was unbearable. Every touch, every word shared between you and that guard ignited a wildfire of jealousy within him. Just thinking about it made him feel sick. He needed to devise a new plan, so he decided to accuse your lover of trying to seduce you to rise in high society. The kings were furious with both you and your lover. The execution seemed imminent. However, something unexpected happened. On your knees, you begged your parents, saying it was all a misunderstanding. At other times, he would have loved to hear your voice, but at that moment, he wished you'd be quiet. You were ruining his plan and breaking his heart as he watched you plead for another man.
Yandere Time Traveler had to leave the castle for a few days; the whole situation was overwhelming him, and he feared he might do something that would compromise his facade. He returned to the shop where he had worked at the beginning. The old man greeted him cheerfully, happy to see him after such a long time. While the older man talked about everything that had happened in his absence, he wandered around the shop, looking at the new antiques that had arrived, hoping to distract his mind. Suddenly, something caught his attention: a mirror that seemed too familiar, sitting in a corner. He now knew how it had ended up in the couple's home. As he stared at it, an idea formed in his mind: "If I couldn't have you in your world, maybe I could in mine." With that thought in mind, he decided to buy the mirror, flashing a disturbing smile.
Yandere Time Traveler returned to the castle with his new treasure, eager to figure out how it worked as soon as possible, though it was easier said than done. It was during a fit of rage that he grabbed the bat he had brought with him to smash objects and vent his frustration. You had convinced your parents that your lover was a good man, and they had allowed you to marry him. He should have been that man, the one who would marry you, but his place had been taken. After breaking several objects in his fury, he left the bat leaning against the mirror and stormed out of the room, not noticing that the reflection in the mirror had begun to change.
Yandere Time Traveler who could only watch as you prepared for your wedding felt as if you were mocking him. Unable to bear it any longer, he retreated to his room to devise a plan. He would not let anyone else have you. Upon entering, he found something magnificent: the portal in the mirror was in all its glory. He gazed at the bat and suddenly, the idea of how it worked came to him. He had been so foolish; the answer was so simple, and he hadn’t seen it before. Now, you would be where you belonged, by his side, living in his own time, where you could never escape.
Yandere Time Traveler who sent you a letter pretending to be your brother to get you to the library. If you had known it was him, you never would have gone to meet him. The mirror was positioned in such a way that you couldn’t see it at a glance, and he would ambush you from behind. Hearing your footsteps approaching down the hallway, you entered and called out for your brother. He stood momentarily stunned, witnessing something he never thought he’d see: you were wearing your hat, the object he had longed to see all his life. But that feeling quickly faded when, angrily, you yelled at your "brother" to come out of hiding because you had a date with your fiancé and needed to leave immediately. The mention of the other man and the fact that you wore something as significant as your hat just to see his rival gave him the strength to push you into the portal, following closely behind.
Yandere Time Traveler who woke up on a floor that seemed familiar, was back in his own home. He watched as you lay unconscious beside him, and since he had already gone through the experience of the portal, he managed to get up before you. He reinforced all exits to ensure you couldn’t escape and then let you rest in what would now be his shared bedroom. Hours later, he heard a blood-curdling scream. He rushed to his room, but you were not there. He found you in the room he had dedicated exclusively to you. You tried to escape, but seeing such a room had frightened you so much that you couldn’t help but scream.
Yandere Time Traveler who pretended everything was fine for a while. You stayed at home while he went to work. It didn’t matter that you did nothing all day; he believed your hands weren’t meant for work. He preferred to do everything himself to keep you content. One night, upon returning from work, he noticed something strange: the house felt too silent. Although he was convinced there was no way you could have escaped, his home felt empty. He searched every corner, but there was no sign of your presence. As he pondered where you could be, his gaze fell on the mirror.
Yandere Time Traveler who had underestimated you. You had managed to find a way to use the mirror while he was away, but he already had an idea of where you might be. Using the mirror, he traveled 70 years after the date of your disappearance. True to his assumption, he quickly found you; everyone knew you for trying to claim that you were the missing royal member, even though that was now impossible. He approached you slowly from behind while you were talking to a couple of people, trying to convince them of your identity. He placed an arm around your shoulders, noticing how your skin prickled. He was too angry to care about the effect he was having on you. With a fake worried look, he explained to the people that you were his fiancée, but that you were suffering from dementia. The people left, leaving the two of you alone.
Yandere Time Traveler who took you back to his time, determined not to make the same mistake. With the bat he had used earlier, he gathered all his strength and smashed the mirror into pieces while you screamed for him to stop. His rage was relentless; he hit the mirror so many times that it became irreparable. When he finished, he embraced you while you cried out loud, knowing that your only escape had been destroyed. He tried to comfort you, whispering soothing words, but his attempts at calm only had the opposite effect. Every whisper and every caress only heightened your desperation, reminding you that you were now trapped with a lunatic, with no hope of returning.
Yandere Time Traveler "No matter what era you're in, I will always find a way to find you."
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throneofsapphics · 2 months ago
Text
infinitesimal
batboys x reader
summary: upset at your partners forgetting an important date, you run to one of your old haunts.
warnings: angst, injuries, off-page violence
word count: 2596
a/n: based on this request!
You closed the door behind you, head tilted up to the stars to keep the tears from falling. A full arrangement coated the night sky, constellations and galaxies beyond anything you could feasibly imagine. It made you feel small, infinitesimally small and unimportant in the scheme of everything, but nothing, nothing had ever made you feel as small as the conversation you’d just had. 
Perhaps you hadn’t been together quite that long, just a few decades, perhaps they’d had a lot on their mind, but if it was important to you shouldn’t it be important to them? Maybe it wasn’t fair of you to put your problems on them like this, but with all of the emotions running through and heating your blood, fair was the last thing on your mind. 
They couldn’t figure out why you’d shown up in tears, had acted as if your emotions were a burden. 
Tears glistened at the corners of your eyes as you pushed the door open to the study, where the three of them sat looking various degrees of stressed and tense. Perhaps trouble somewhere in Illyria, that’s what it usually was these days. 
“What is it?” Rhys asked as you studied the table in front of them, snicking the door shut behind you. It wouldn’t stay closed long. 
Your mouth parted, but no words came out. You couldn't. Just the near-unbearable pressure on your chest, threatening to cave you in and suffocate you, bury you alive. 
“Why are you crying?” Cassian, you know he didn’t mean to, probably, sounded irritated. You hadn’t known you were crying. 
Azriel’s head snapped up, so did Rhys’s. A quick scan of their faces showed none of the understanding you’d hoped for, instead showed varying levels of irritation, so you did what was easiest - you left, not bothering to let the door shut gently. Soft voices, but no footsteps, followed you. 
You stormed out through the front gate. You knew how to release some energy, and how to do it in a way they would despise. A way they’d convinced you to quit because it was ‘legally dubiousl’ and ‘dangerous.’ You didn’t care right now. Later, you might look back and think you were an idiot but in this moment it seemed like nothing mattered. 
If your feelings didn’t matter to them, theirs certainly shouldn’t matter to you, but in the back of your mind ... the very back where you shoved them away, they still did. Still haunted you, mocked you, whispered make-believe insults and disparaging comments. Your mind could be a prison, and you were well aware of that. So were they. Were you just some kind of pet for them to fix up and ready to enter society? If that was the case, you'd make sure it was one of the damn hardest jobs they’d ever receive. 
Well aware you were spiraling, you did nothing to stop it and instead let that anger build and ready itself for the next few hours. The timing and date was impeccable, as if this was meant to be. Perhaps it was, and perhaps you shouldn’t have had to give up something you love for them, no matter how bad it was for you. 
-
“Giving her time to cool off feels wrong,” Cassian said. There wasn't any other way he could describe it other than it didn’t seem right and usually his gut instinct was correct. 
“I can practically still feel her anger,” Rhys reminded him. 
‘All the more reason to go after her,’ he thought, but didn’t voice aloud. Maybe he should’ve 
Azriel was pensive in a corner, looking like he’d forgotten something important, or like he was brooding. Perhaps a mixture of both. Asking him what was wrong had only gotten him a non-answer. He didn’t ask again. When Azriel wanted to tell him something, he would. You were the only one who could get away with pushing. 
“So how long do we wait?” He asked Rhys instead, who pinched the bridge of his nose. They were all on edge. Unrest in Illyria always put them in a rather sour mood. 
“A few hours or the night,” Rhys’s answer made Cassian scowl, and he saw Az’s shadows flicker from the corner of his eye, “but she may very well come back before then.” 
“She’s not a child throwing a tantrum,” Azriel said quietly. “There’s something we’re missing.” 
Yes, and it was quite obviously driving him up the wall. Cassian racked his brain for anything there could be, but only drew up blanks. 
He didn’t want to, but he’d listen to Rhys this time because when it came to you, the male was usually right, and knew the correct thing to do. He only hoped that still applied today. Otherwise ... he didn’t want to think about what could go wrong. Right now, all he needed to think about was the fucking papers in front of him. 
He’d read the reports, he always did, but he was really a male made for battlefields. You weren’t a battlefield. Lovely and soft and everything kind and good in this world, he’d move mountains to preserve the sweet spot you brought to his life, and would do near anything in return to sweeten yours. 
Before you he would, internally, mocked the doe-eyed males willing to do anything for their partners before but now ... he loved to say he understood it. 
Drifting, his thoughts were drifting. 
Cassian tapped the pen on the paper in front of him, a habit he knew irritated his brothers but he didn’t care. If it helped him focus now, he'd take their scorn. It kept him from launching into the night sky after you. Surprisingly, they didn’t say a word. 
“I don’t have a good feeling about her leaving like that,” Azriel broke the silence of the last few hours. 
Cassian’s head snapped up. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” He nearly snarled. Rhys fixed him with a look he pointedly ignored. 
Azriel’s mouth pressed into a tight line and Cassian read the apology in his eyes, one he wouldn’t voice. It didn’t matter, he wasn’t the one owed an apology. 
The next words set his heart into an irregular beat, his throat tightening, his palms sweating, and every nerve standing at ready. Adrenaline. He knew it all too well. 
“My shadows can’t find her.”
His heart jumped to his throat. 
-
You knew it was stupid to come here, but you came anyway. Still, as you stalked through the smoky space, you thought it was stupid because it would disappoint them, not necessarily because you were putting yourself in danger. 
Right now, your own life meant little to nothing to you, and no amount of positive self talk seemed capable of changing that. You’d set yourself on the small course in front of you, and you’d see it to the end. 
You didn’t take into account that others might have a bone to pick with your partners. 
With just enough energy left to leave with your dignity, you emerged from the ring bloodied and bruised but somehow a victor. With the state you were in, it didn’t quite feel like a victory. It took everything for you to keep moving. At least there was enough honor amongst this crowd you were safe enough to leave with a pocket full of jingling gold. 
You’d walked here to clear your mind, but would you have enough energy to winnow home? Fat chance you’d reach out to Rhys to get help. It was winnow or walk. 
The choice was made for you as you exited, spotting someone you weren’t particularly thrilled to see, especially not in your current state. Licking your dry lips, you tried to come up with something anything to say as piercing hazel eyes ripped right through you. 
“Hello,” you said, quite lamely. 
He didn’t reply. Fair enough. 
You shook your head, you didn’t owe him anything. If anything ... well, you wouldn’t go there now. 
“I’m going home,” you said, and stepped into the light, wincing as you realized the shadows covering your face were gone now, and he could see your injuries and embarrassment. The worst part was, this time it didn’t look worse than it was. In fact, it was probably worse than it looked. 
“I'll take you home,” he grunted, concern and anger warring for space in his features. Well, fighting to break through that neutral mask of his. Maybe you were projecting and he actually didn’t give a damn. That was more likely, you told yourself. Life taught you that if you assumed someone would hurt you it lessened the sting when they eventually did. 
“To my apartment,” you insisted, but this time you weren’t feeling too proud to turn down a hand. 
His hand landed on your shoulder, grip just tight enough, like you were some disgusting piece of trash he could hardly stand to touch. Maybe you were nothing more than that to him. The thought tore you into a thousand tiny pieces, the one movement more degrading than them forgetting the entire meaning of this day. 
You never thought one tiny gesture could break you like that, you’d never thought you’d be so weak as to let it, but you let that pain inside, let it swirl inside of you and envelop every bit, let it sting more than the physical pain you were in, more than any physical pain possibly could as shadows swirled around you, whirling you deep into his night and to where or whomever their master desired, you doubted he would actually obey your wishes. 
-
Azriel touched you so delicately because he couldn’t bear to see you in any more pain than you already were, even if it was pain of your own making. He knew the fights were ‘legal,’ although barely sanctioned and hardly tolerated, but he still wanted to find whoever your opponent was that night and rip them limb from limb. Male or female, he didn’t give a fuck. A dark beauty of his job was he treated each gender equally, in his eyes an enemy was an enemy, gender aside. 
He winnowed you directly to your shared home, having already sent word to Rhys the moment you showed yourself. He knew where you’d be, mainly because the fighting rings had clever wards to keep shadow singers out. One of a few places in Velaris that did, and they only popped up when Rhys was gone. His High Lord hadn’t bothered with them yet, but maybe it was time to ask him to do a bit of tampering. For public safety, of course. 
You shoved away from him the moment you landed. His amusement was easily hid at the effect - you stumbling back, him staying perfectly in place. He could’ve teased you, asked where your fighting skills were now, but he knew from reputation and watching that you had a mean right hook and after the words left his lips he’d probably feel inclined to let you punch him. Your next words sobered and cured any amusement lingering in his system. 
“Do you have such little respect for me?” You were genuinely affronted. His mouth pressed into a tight line, any answer he could give felt like a trap. With a scoff, you stalked - no, limped -  away and Azriel was left with the sinking realization that he should’ve said something. You were still in earshot however, hadn’t quite reached the corner. 
“I respect you.” Were three measly words really all he could manage? Speeches and platitudes were more Rhys’s forte. 
“Obviously you don’t,” you swirled around on your heel, swaying. He was there in an instant, eyes scanning you head to toe, searching for more signs of anything amiss. He’d only spotted surface injuries earlier, but it's entirely possible he missed something. Even he could admit that. 
“What’s wrong?” You tried to push him away again, but this time he held on. He wouldn’t let you go - not like this. 
“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth, and shoved again. He took a few steps back. 
He wanted to bite back at you, to say ‘obviously not,’ but didn’t bother. A shadow curled around his ear, whispering your lies. Lies you knew. 
“No you’re not. Do you want me to get Madja or Rhys?” 
Something ached inside of him when you hesitated. Yesterday, he could’ve sworn you would say Rhys without hesitation. 
Turns out, they didn’t need to make the decision as a brief whoosh announced the arrival of the male in question.
Rhys observed you, his hands flexed once before he shoved them into his pockets and closed the distance. Azriel felt himself tense, especially as you stood a little straighter, stance widening like you were prepared for a fight. Having felt Rhys’s wave of emotion when he told him where you’d gone off to, you weren’t ready for this fight. Not one bit. Especially not as he heard Cassian land on the balcony. It was easy enough to set his priorities straight. 
“You need healing,” he said, well aware both of the other males could hear, and that it would bite into their anger. Worry for you would always override anger, for any of them. 
“I. Said. I’m. Fine.” 
‘Hurt’ a shadow danced around his ear, whispering, ‘bad.’ 
Bad. 
His shadows never lied. Looking closer at you, he saw the pallor of your skin, the light sheet of sweat he’d originally mistaken as being from your earlier fights. 
“You’re going to pass out,” he said as Cassian strode through the doorway. 
Your eyelashes fluttered. Rhys disappeared, reappearing behind you within the second, arms looping under yours. 
Mouth parted, words trying to form, but you couldn’t get them out. “Don’t you dare say fine,” Rhys still hissed in your ear, before hoisting you up into his arms bridal style. 
Like dogs to a bone, he and Cassian followed you both back to your shared room. 
Azriel scanned the room, eyes stopping on the side table. A glass of water. A necklace. A book, with a … portrait peeking out. 
Carefully letting a shadow mark its place, he slipped it from the papers. 
His stomach dropped. 
Two males, twins, who were obviously close relations to you. Brothers. 
You’d lost both of your brothers to a sickness that had swept through your small village. 
“Rhys,” he murmured and he straightened from where he hovered over you. Night-sky magic monitored your pulse and breathing, and he knew Rhys would be alerted at the smallest change. It wasn't the first time they’d taken care of you like this, it had just been a few decades. 
He silently handed the portrait over, Cassian crossing to take a look at it too. 
“Today was ...” Cassian trailed off. 
“The anniversary of their deaths,” Azriel finished for him. 
And they’d let you run off instead of chasing after you. Azriel crossed the room to stand next to your side, brushing his hand over the soft skin of your cheek. You looked so peaceful, despite the lack of color in your skin. He needed you to wake up, so he could tell you he was fucking sorry and that if you wanted him to he’d chase you to the end of this world and into the next one. 
Still, he couldn’t regret bringing you here instead of to your apartment. The last thing you needed right now was to be alone. 
‘Who are you to know what she needs,’ a nasty voice, not unlike those of his own biological brothers, taunted. 
Nobody. Right now, Azriel was a nobody. 
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slut4thebroken · 1 year ago
Text
Cheerleader
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | stepdad!Cillian Murphy x reader
Summary | You finally got on the cheer team and are excited to show your stepdad the uniform, but he has some concerns.
Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, mildly dubious consent, large age gap (unspecified), wedgie lmaoo, dry humping, grinding, groping, spanking, praise, daddy but not the kink?, technically incest??, ionno what else lol
Words | 1.5 k
Notes | I honestly don’t even know what this is… like I can’t tell if I hate it or not💀😭 Also for legal reasons… we’ll say reader is 18 and in college 👀 (just a reminder though: this is fiction. Treat it as such lol)
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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“Hey, love, how was school?” He called out from the kitchen and you all but bounced into the room. 
“I got on the cheer team!” You said excitedly.
“That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you, baby.” You could tell his tone was genuine, but he was still focused on whatever food he was preparing. 
“Turn around, daddy.” You giggled and he set down the knife before turning to face you. His eyes widened and his lips parted in shock as he took in your clothes— your body. “Do you like it?” You asked, twirling around for him to see the whole thing.
“I-it’s… a little short, don’t you think?” He choked out. 
“Well duh. How else would I do this?” You showed him a kick and his gaze snapped down to where the skirt rode up, exposing your matching shorts. 
“You have to wear this for everything?”
“We have a long sleeved top for the winter time, but yeah.” You smiled. “What do you think?” 
“C’mere, love.” You walked over and stood in front of him, waiting. He started on your waist, then dragged his hands down to your hips, his thumbs rubbing over the exposed skin of your tummy. He suddenly got down on his knees and moved his hands to just above your ankles. He snaked them up your legs, teasing you, until they reached the bottom of the skirt. 
“Daddy?” 
“Shh… I'm just getting a closer look, baby.” Duh. What else would he be doing? You thought with an internal chuckle. His hands moved up to your hips, over the skirt, then snaked behind you. 
“Daddy!” You gasped when he squeezed your ass and pulled you closer.
“Turn around.” He ordered, moving his hands to your hips to start turning you. Once you were facing away from him, he was groping you again and you bit your lip to contain any sounds. “Bend over.” He said suddenly. 
“W-what?” 
“Bend over. You can lean on the counter if that’s easier.” Hesitantly, you obeyed. You leaned down and placed your hands on the counter. “Further.” With a blush of embarrassment, you lowered yourself so that your arms were crossed, resting on the counter, holding up your chin. 
“This is what counts as school appropriate nowadays?” He scoffed, making your blush darken. “The skirt doesn’t cover anything.” 
“T-that’s what the shorts are for.” You said quietly. 
“I’d hardly call these shorts.” He was groping your ass again now, this time under the skirt. “They’re so fucking tight.” He gruffed. “I can see the outline of your pussy.” His thumb brushed over your mound, making you shoot up. 
“Daddy!” 
“Down.” You froze when you heard his tone, then slowly lowered yourself back down. He reached under the fabric where your ass met your thighs, then took it in a firm grip and roughly pulled up, making you gasp and grab onto the counter. His hands settled on your bare ass and you couldn't help the way you started squirming. The fabric of your shorts and underwear being pressed so tightly against you was almost painful, but it made you needy too. 
“Every little immature boy at your school is going to want a piece of this.” He removed a hand, but brought it back down quickly, with a sharp smack. You jolted and gasped out a moan, caught off guard by the sudden pain. “I can’t let that happen, baby. But I‘m not gonna make you quit, not when I know how happy it makes you.” Another slap. “I’m gonna make sure you won’t let any boys come near this pussy.” Another slap, then his thumb was brushing over your mound again. 
“Please,” You whined, but it cut off into a choked moan when he spanked you again, twice in quick succession. “Won’t let any boys come near it!” You tried, gripping onto the counter when he spanked you again, but he wasn’t listening. He ignored you and continued toying with your ass, sometimes squeezing it, but mostly spanking it. “It hurts, daddy.” You whimpered. 
“Does it, baby?” He asked innocently, making you pout. 
“Yeah…” 
“You can handle a little more.” He decided, then continued until your ass felt hot and your clit was throbbing and your eyes were watering. “Such a good girl.” He mumbled, rubbing soothing hands over the burning skin, but his touch was just making it hurt more. “I’m sorry, baby. You know I hate when I have to punish you, but you need to learn.” 
“I know..” You whimpered, then his hands were gone. You heard him standing up and he grabbed your hips to push you closer to the counter. “Are you done?” You asked quietly. 
“Not yet, love.” You dreaded having to endure even more spanking. When you heard his belt, you stiffened. Next was his zipper, then fabric was rustling a little and he reached for your shorts again. He looped one hand through both of the leg holes, making the pressure on your clit get a little harder. 
When he suddenly lifted you up, a pained cry left you as your shorts and underwear were forced deeper between your ass and even between your folds. Your feet were barely touching the ground and you reached back to try and push him away, but he just landed another slap on your ass. 
“Stay still.” 
“I-it hurts, daddy… I can’t.” You whimpered. In response, he adjusted his grip and lifted you up even more, making you cry out. The very tips of your shoes were barely still on the floor and the pressure on your clit was becoming more of a painful pleasure now. Emphasis on ‘painful.’  
When you felt him press up against you, your breath caught in your throat. He still had his underwear on, but he was grinding his bulge on your pussy because of how high he was holding you. His free hand grabbed your hips to stabilize you as he sped up. 
“Daddy…” You whined. Everything was so contradictory. Your ass was still burning, as was your clit from the prolonged wedgie, but it also felt good as he rubbed his bulge against it. You didn’t know what to think. You didn’t even know if you wanted him to stop or do more.
“I know, baby… Just a little longer.” He said quietly. Letting out a low groan, he continued humping you, his breathing getting more and more ragged. He moved the hand on your hip to help hold your shorts and underwear, then took a couple steps back. When you weren’t being supported by the counter anymore, you fell forward with a scream, your whole body weight now being held by the wedgie. You grabbed onto the counter to lift yourself up a little so your face wasn’t inches above the floor, but you couldn’t get close enough to put any weight on it. 
“Daddy! Daddy— wait!” You cried out, making him moan at your struggling. His hips got more desperate, rutting against your clothed heat, making you more desperate as well. 
You tried squirming, but he just lifted you even higher. Your feet kicked around as you tried hopelessly to find some footing, now being completely suspended. 
“Please! It hurts!” You whined loudly, but he ignored you. “Please, daddy! I can’t take it anymore..” 
“Shh… Yes you can, love. I’m almost done.” He cursed under his breath and his movements sped up even more. “Such a good fucking pussy.” He groaned under his breath. 
“Who’s allowed to touch you here?” He asked, clearer now. 
“You!”
“Who owns this fucking cunt?” 
“Y-you..” You whimpered, hoping if you just agreed to everything that he’d give you mercy. 
“That’s right, baby. Your body is only for daddy to touch, okay?” You were nodding before he could even finish. 
“Yes— yes.. Please let me down now.” You rushed out. You’ve learned your lesson by now— you won’t let anyone come near you. His hips stopped, but he didn’t drop you. Instead, he stayed pressed up against your cunt, then started bouncing you up and down by your shorts and underwear, stimulating his cock like that instead. Each time you went down, a sharp cry was forced out of you. You could feel tears in your eyes again as the pain got worse and worse. He started rutting into you, but still moved you up and down, never even faltering. 
“Please!” You cried. He moved you forward again so you were bent over the counter. Your feet still weren’t touching the floor, but at least some of the weight was taken off. 
“Fuck—” He choked out, panting and moaning quietly. He took a step back and removed one hand, making you drop a little so that your toes were now on the floor. Then his moans were getting louder and louder until you felt heat spurting all over your ass. You whined and squirmed as your whole face heated up from humiliation. He cursed under his breath and slowly lowered you, releasing your shorts. He panted for another moment, then tugged your stretched out shorts and underwear back down, over his come. You felt completely and utterly used. But you also felt completely and utterly desperate for more. 
“That’s better. Covers more of your ass now.” He said through a breath, giving you one last spank. 
I fucking hate the title lol so give me ideas for a new one💀🙏🏻
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forzalando · 10 months ago
Note
hi marissa! first, i hope you have a wonderful time with your family!!
second, could i request “i might have had a few shots” with max, where reader drunk calls him after a breakup? thank youu 🫶🏻🫶🏻
i feel like i took some creative liberties with this one! i wasn't sure if you meant reader and max breakup or reader calls max after breaking up with someone else - so i went with the latter and couldn't resist making them idiots in love😭. after writing the danny ric angst, i needed to heal my own heart lol i truly hope you love it, liyah! thank you for always being so kind, it was a pleasure to write for you! wc: 1.8k warnings: cursing (most likely), a little bit of angst, mentions of drinking/reader being drunk
Getting ahold of Max Verstappen was nearly impossible – his use of the custom “Do Not Disturb” function was impressive. He had custom settings for everything: a work setting, a setting for when he was streaming, a race day setting, but his most prized was his sleep setting.
Once local time hit 10pm, Max Verstappen was unreachable to everyone. Well, almost everyone. His family, Christian, and you were the only exceptions, which aggravated Daniel to no end. “I’m your best friend, too!”, he’d claimed. But it wasn’t the same.
Max wasn’t secretly in love with Daniel. He’d take your calls anytime, day or night.
It was nearing midnight – Jimmy and Sassy were sound asleep at the foot of his bed and he’d been watching some legal drama you recommended. He hated it, but for you he’d watch it forever and take notes just to have another thing to talk to you about.
At this point, the show had practically put him to sleep, but the loud chime of his phone and your contact picture lighting up the screen jolted him awake.
“Maxie?” You yelled into the speaker. “Maxieee, are you there?”
“I’m here, liefje,” he chuckled. “What are you doing up so late?”
“Th’girls made me go out,” you whined. “Said I needed to dance and drink the night away.”
“And did you?” Max teased - by the sound of your voice, it was obvious you had taken their advice.
You giggled and the sound made Max’s heart clench in his chest. “I might’ve had a few shots, but don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret. Can you keep a secret, Max?”
His heart clenched now for a different reason – he was the best at keeping secrets. He’d been in love with you for over a year and the only living souls who knew were his cats. And probably Danny, though he'd had the sense to never bring it up.
“For you, I would do anything,” Max declared. In your drunken state, you failed to recognize the full extent of the meaning behind his words.
“Perfect!” You hiccupped, stumbling slightly before your friend caught your arm.
It was silent for a moment – Max waited for you to say something else but only heard your breathing through the speaker. “Is everything ok? Why did you call?”
“Well, no. Wanna go home but everyone else wants to stay out. Can you come get me, Maxie? It’s cold outside.”
“Are you alone?” He asked frantically, jumping out of bed and throwing a sweatshirt on in record time. He shoved his feet into his shoes so quickly that his ankle rolled – his trainer would be pissed when it came time for tomorrow’s workout.
“No, Nat and Peter are outside with me. They’re good friends. But not as good as you!”
Max breathed a sigh of relief – grateful that your closest friend and her boyfriend were watching over you. Unfortunately, the relief didn’t keep his stomach from twisting at “good friend”.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes, ok?”
You shouted thank you gleefully and hung up – he could picture you jumping up and down in excitement, you’d probably fall over unless Nat and Peter were close enough to catch you.
Minutes later, he pulled up alongside the club and he’d barely made it out of his car before you were jumping into his arms.
“I knew I could count on you, Maxie.”
He gently put you in the passenger seat, buckling you in and grabbing a jacket from his backseat to drape over you. Once you were comfortable, content, and ready to go, he turned to your friends to thank them for waiting with you.
“Thanks for staying with her until I could get here.”
“No problem at all,” Nat smiled. “We all thought she deserved a night out after the week she’s had, but I think she’d rather just be with you.”
Max blushed, unintentionally ignoring that your friend had just let slip you’d had a terrible week and he’d had no idea. He thanked them once again, and slipped into his car to find you half asleep and cuddling his jacket.
He thought you’d be out like a light in moments and turned the radio down, content to sit in silence until he got to his place. He’d rather die than wake you up to find your keys when you looked so peaceful.
“Can I tell you another secret, Maxie?” You murmured, startling him when you broke the still silence in his car.
“Sure, Y/N.”
“Alec dumped me. And I’m not even sad about it.”
Your latest boyfriend – you’d been dating for a couple of months. Max wondered why you had called him instead of Alec, but he didn’t want to ask since he didn’t particularly like talking about your boyfriends, even if they were nice. As far as he could tell, Alec was one of the nice ones.
“I’m sorry. Is that why your friends wanted you to go out?”
“They thought I’d be devastated,” you said bewildered. “And I haven’t even cried! You know me, Maxie, I’m a crier. I had to pretend to be upset when I told them.”
Max laughed at that, looking at you as you laughed along with him. His dimple and shining eyes caused your heart to skip a beat, and your smile slowly disappeared.
Suddenly, you had a horrified look on your face. You knew why you hadn’t cried – it was because you didn’t really care that much about Alec. Sure, he was sweet, kind, and attractive, but something was missing. When he broke up with you, he was so gracious, telling you that he thought the world of you but that it would never work because you were clearly in love with someone else. You’d protested – told him the only constant male presence in your life was Max, your best friend. He’d just smiled at you and said “I know”, leaving you perplexed when he left the coffee shop you had met up at. Until now, you had no idea what he meant.
You turned away from Max, shocked at the revelation of your feelings, staring out the window until he got to his apartment.
“I thought you’d be asleep,” he explained when he saw your confused face. “Didn’t want to rifle through your bag for your keys or wake you up. The spare bedroom has fresh sheets anyway.”
You nodded, practically catapulting yourself out of the car and into his building. The speed at which you trekked up to his place was impressive, especially in the shoes you’d chosen for the evening, and Max began to sweat. Had he done something wrong? Were you pissed he didn’t take you home?
When he unlocked his door, you ran straight to the guest bathroom and shut yourself in. Max was disoriented – you didn’t seem that drunk, and truthfully you were only ever quiet when you were asleep.
While you were in the bathroom, Max put a change of clothes and spare toiletries on your bed, slipping out when he heard the sink stop running.
You smiled when you saw the pile Max had left on your bed, suddenly feeling very ashamed for abruptly ignoring him. The TV was on in the living room and after changing, taking off your makeup, and brushing your teeth, you felt slightly more sober and a lot more guilty.
“Max?” you whispered, slinking into the living room to sit beside him on the couch. “Can I tell you one more secret?”
“Of course, you can always tell me anything.”
“Alec broke up with me because he thinks I’m in love with someone else.”
“Well, that’s crazy,” Max scoffs. “He must not want to tell you the real reason or didn’t have one so he made that up. I mean, what guys do you know that he’s even met? Peter? Another one of your friends’  boyfriends? You don’t even have that many close guy friends except me and - ”
Max cuts himself off, slowly turning to face you. He doesn’t think he’s breathing, blood rushing in his ears and a tightness starts to spread throughout his chest.
You have a sad smile on your face and your eyes are downcast, playing with the sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you.
“I don’t think I even realized until tonight,” you whispered. “Looking at you in the car, watching you laugh, how you were the only person I wanted to call and you dropped everything to come get me. It just kind of hit me – who Alec meant, why none of my relationships have ever worked out.”
Max scoots away from you, and suddenly it’s painful to breathe. There’s an ache in your chest that almost burns –  like someone’s waving a lighter back and forth over your heart, each time leaving the flame against you a little longer.
“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying. Please, please don’t do this.”
When you look at his face, see the panic that’s masking heartache, you realize that he’s not moving away from you because he doesn’t feel the same.
He’s moving away because he does, and for how long, you don’t know – but the flame licks higher and higher until the burning reaches your throat when you understand that he thinks you’re too far gone to understand your own feelings.
“Max, I’m not – ”
He cuts you off, reaching out to cup your face with his hand. “In the morning. If you wake up, and you still want to have this conversation, I will listen.”
You nod and stand up from the couch, leaving him sitting under the glow of the television. The apartment feels colder as you walk towards the guest room, and when you stop to look back at him, his head is in his hands and it terrifies you. Max was the one person in this world that you could never lose – it would shatter you.
Sleep never came to you – tossing and turning in the plush pillows that you picked out because Max wanted you as comfortable as possible in his space. When the sun came up, you crept out of bed and didn’t stop until you were in front of Max’s door. You knocked twice, rocking back on forth on the balls of your feet.
The door opened within seconds – Max’s tired eyes showed that he got about as much sleep as you did.
“It’s morning,” you whispered.
“It is.”
“It’s morning and I still love you.”
He smiled at you, so big and so bright, it rivaled the Mediterranean summer sun. You wanted this moment captured forever – painted perfectly in a portrait done by the most highly esteemed artist in the world.
You threw your arms around his neck, sacrificing seeing the beauty of him to feel him in your arms. His soft breaths tickled your skin, and your giggles made him squeeze you even tighter.
“You don’t know how many mornings I’ve spent waiting to hear you say that.”
“You’ll never have to live through another one again, Max.”
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loveindefinitely · 11 months ago
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02 — 𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘐'𝘔 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘈𝘉𝘖𝘜𝘛
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༊*·˚ LUST FOR LIFE — task force 141 x reader
featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, legal age-gaps, inexperienced reader, angst, graphic violence, slight power imbalance, enemies to lovers, slow burn, betrayal
series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.
// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //
"You assaulted two Special Forces Operators, kid," Price says, a barely veiled grimace contorting his features. "That's not a good look."
You tug against where your hands are cuffed to the metal bars, your brows furrowing. "Kidnapping the girl -- whose dad you killed after taking her virginity -- isn't a good look either."
...Alright.
So, if you could go back in time, and never eavesdrop on the four men who have completely ruined your life, you would take up the offer in a heartbeat.
Between landing your fist to Gaz's jaw, and where you are now, your life has become a total shit show.
Like, complete, this might just be a fever dream level of crazy.
It started from the moment you saw blood trickling from your now late father's forehead, and in the glint of the moonlight, seeing Ghost holding the gun.
Then, you'd turned, without another thought, and landed a punch right to Gaz's jaw. The man who had taken your first kiss no more than two hours ago.
You can relive the moment even now, under the harsh neon lights of an interrogation room, as if you're experiencing everything for the first time once more.
༊*·˚
Gaz hisses, wincing as he brings a hand up to the aching pain radiating from the bone that'd taken the brunt of your punch.
"You guys -- what the fuck --" You stammer out, eyes wide and borderline manic as you gape at the man before you. "You guys just killed my dad!"
"Yeah, but," Gaz starts, before backtracking. You figure he has enough braincells to realise that 'rationality and reason' isn't going to work with you, not in this state, and especially not after you just witnessed the murder of your only living family member. "Ah. Well. He wasn't a good guy."
You really, truly, cannot believe the audacity of this man.
Your mouth opens.
Gaz grimaces.
Your mouth closes.
He takes a step closer, hands raised in a placating gesture.
"Take another step near me and I'll punch you again!" You threaten, with an aggressive point of your finger.
You're extremely aware that your punch had done next to nothing, and Gaz's reaction to it was more one of sympathy, but the threat lands nonetheless.
"Alright, alright, we're not gonna hurt you," he raises his hands further, eyes bouncing between your own. You're not sure what he sees -- maybe resentment, or horror, or fear.
Whatever it is, it makes his frown deepen.
He goes to say something else, when your bedroom door opens with a soft click. "Finishin' up, ya read--"
Soap pauses his whisper, ice-blue eyes meeting yours. His grimace isn't unlike the one Gaz is sporting, and it only worsens your mood. If looks could kill, he would be lying on the grass beside --
Oh god. Your dead dad.
"Steamin' Jesus," Soap mutters under his breath, looking up to the roof in some semblance of a last minute prayer.
There's a moment, then, for a decision to be made. It's as if your brain can only come up with two options, and one of them will lead to your untimely death.
So, really, it's not entirely your fault when you pick up the salt lamp sitting on your bedside table and throw it right into the arrogant Scot's face.
"Holy shit," Gaz's eyes are comically wide as Soap cries out, the heavy pink rock slamming into his nose. He stumbles back, and the sound of your lamp hitting cartilage even has you wincing, panicked state or not. "How the fuck have you survived this long with those kinda reflexes, Soap?"
Soap drops into a squat, cradling his nose in his hand as he tilts his head back, squeezing the ridge between two calloused fingers. His voice comes out nasally as he mumbles, "Mighta' broke 'gain."
Your entire body is trembling, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you creep to the window with soft, quiet steps.
Maybe, you think, in the back of your mind, I can make the jump into the garden.
It's not to be, however.
"You're smarter than that," Gaz directs an unamused glare your way, before grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you towards your door.
Digging your heels into the carpet, you attempt to wrestle out of his grip -- but a trained military expert and you are no match, not even with the energy overtaking your body.
"Let go of me!" You grit out, tugging and displaying your weight in the opposite way to his goal. He doesn't even turn around as he drags you out of your room, slamming your door shut behind you.
"What the fuck is goin' on," Ghost's growl comes from the stairs, heavy bootfalls following until he's standing, gaze drifting from you, to Gaz, to Soap, back to you again.
"Fuck, man," Soap whines, squeezing his eyes shut as he keeps his head tilted back, blood running down his lips and chin. You somehow find it in yourself to feel slightly bad. Not enough to apologise, and certainly not enough to stop fighting back.
They were going to kill you. Probably. Or, like, what's the skin trade like in your area? Oh god. Fuck. Shit.
"She saw," Gaz mutters to Ghost, and his eyes narrow, black face paint crinkling where it's been put on the upper half of his face, skin not covered by the balaclava.
There aren't any lights on, and it's the lights on downstairs that cast shadows and highlights over the men's' faces.
"Fuckin' christ," Ghost groans, before turning and walking back downstairs without another word.
You continue to struggle against Gaz's hold, but both of your wrists have been collected in his hand, and he's pulled you so your back is to his chest. If it were any other circumstance, you'd be blushing, most likely turned on from such an embrace.
Right now, however, you're questioning every possible decision you've ever made.
"Ye Dad treated ya like shit 'nyways," Soap says, too loud to be under his breath, but too quiet for it to be conversational. "Dinnae why yer freakin''."
"You're murderers!" You hiss back, lips pulled back into a snarl. Your muscles ache from the punch, the hefty throw, and now from struggling against Gaz. "And I don't exactly have any other family, do I?!"
Gaz makes a sound of agreement, before shaking his head and countering. "We're not murderers, not really."
You choke a laugh, but it's entirely too wet and sad for it to be threatening or cruel. "So you guys didn't just shoot my father?"
"Si pulled th' trigger," Soap pouts, almost like a child would over a lack of candy.
"Soap," Gaz exasperates, and although you can't see his face, you're sure it's dismayed and annoyed. "Seriously?"
"What?!" Soap counters, and when it comes out high-pitched, he squeezes his eyes shut and holds his nose tighter. "Jus' tha truth, dinnae why yer so shitty. Yer not tha one bleedin'."
Speechless.
You are fully, unbelievably, speechless.
What the actual fuck was wrong with these... men? And what was wrong with you for being more than ready to spread your legs for them not too long ago?
You needed therapy. And coffee.
And a time machine, preferably. If one was made available at this given moment.
"Get down here," the final man of the hour shouts up the stairs, and your blood runs cold. There's something about him that's not quite as threatening as Ghost, but somehow makes you even more fearful.
Gaz, with surprisingly careful and gentle movements, guides you down the stairs. The parallel of how Ghost's hand had been at your lower back as he invited you to the lounge room, mere hours ago, isn't lost on you.
His hand doesn't move from the tense grip it has on your wrists. You can't help but feel like it's a completely unnecessary gesture, considering the fact that any of them could take you down within seconds if they really needed to. Hell, they all had actual, military-grade weapons.
"Seriously, Gaz?" Price huffs, looking entirely like a disappointed dad in this moment as he stands, leaning against your kitchen counter, arms folded over his chest, ankles crossed over. "One job, mate."
"You lot weren't exactly quiet," he retorts, but he slowly releases your wrists.
At this point, you know it's a lost cause to try and escape this situation, so you just ball your hands into wrists at your sides. You can't imagine it's an overly threatening position, considering how your entire frame trembles, and your lips wobble.
Your father was dead.
And the men that had made you feel so comfortable, so cared for, are the culprits.
Stupid, stupid girl.
They are dangerous men who do dangerous things.
"Peas," Soap's voice is practically a beg as he stumbles into the kitchen, opening the freezer door with no preamble as he scours it for... peas.
They're in the far right of the bottom shelf.
You don't tell him that.
"Have some water," Price encourages, holding out a glass cup full of chilled water.
Your eyes narrow, standing your ground. "Not accepting drinks from murderers. Dad taught me that, y'know?"
Gaz chokes a laugh, before covering it up with a fist to his mouth and a clearing of his throat. It fools no one, and you allow yourself the tiny bit of pride that fills your chest at the reaction to your taunt.
"Ghost," Price mutters, resigned and almost frustrated as he looks at you.
You understand why, as soon as the feeling of a needle imbedding into your neck has you flinching, pain prickling at the intrusion in your muscle.
"What --" you begin, before your legs fall out beneath you, your eyes falling to half mast as Price hefts you up, beefy arms holding you beneath your armpits as your body becomes dead weight.
"Sorry, kid," are the last words you hear, before black overrides all of your senses as drugged sleep takes you.
༊*·˚
Sometime between then, and now, you've found yourself in a white-walled room, blinding lights turning the throbbing in your head from a low pound to an echoing boom of a drum.
"We didn't plan for... any of it to happen the way it did. This was our only choice." Price shakes his head, hands resting at the top of his vest as he studies you.
Right. The virginity, kidnapping and assault thing.
...Great.
"I must've forgot the part where I resisted arrest," you retort, forcing your eyes to remain open, despite the heaviness to them. It's as if a weight has been hung from your eyelids, and every blink drags them down more and more each time.
"Jesus -- you're not under arrest," Price rubs at his eyes, head dipped down as if he's recollecting his thoughts. You're not sure if he's had any sleep, although your sense of time has been completely thrown out of the window.
"Then release me," you say, voice softer than you'd intended, more pleading -- a truer reflection of your current state of mind.
The air is crisp, cool, like that of a hospital. Chemicals and bleach are a potent undertone to the clean scent, and it makes you question what could've previously been done in this room to warrant them.
Your heart pounds almost weakly, and you know if there's any more heartbreaks to come, it might just give out.
How you've resisted a complete mental breakdown is beyond you, and frankly, you'd give yourself a pat on the back if you could. Although, that act might in itself be a sign of insanity.
"Not until we can be assured you're safe," Price insists. "And not until we can clear your name from the books. We have enemies, sweetheart, and those enemies were also your father's. They are not above punishing you for your father's sins."
Your heart is lodged in your throat, and it takes everything in you not to just burst into tears and pray. Pray that this is all some sick joke, some terrifying nightmare that you haven't woken from yet.
But you know it's a baseless hope. You know that this is real.
You're in a military base, somewhere, surrounded by the country's most dangerous men. The most dangerous men on their side, at least.
"So I'm not getting charged for assault?" Your voice is entirely too small for the situation, not for someone who's still cuffed to a bed, going through grief in the most ruthless type of way.
The worst part is that you don't entirely miss your father. You miss the comfort of having a family member, that's true, but he wasn't a good parental figure, and his treatment of you could be classed as abuse to most people.
And from what these four are saying, he wasn't a good man either.
People didn't often talk about how separate the two things were. It was possible to be a great man, but the worst of fathers, and the opposite could be true, too.
Fate had dealt you a bad hand, in giving you one who was terrible on both sides of the coin.
"Technically," Price leans back into his chair, his voice littered with exhaustion, "We... should report it."
Your stomach drops.
Price's eyes meet yours, and somehow, he must see the turmoil battling inside of your head, because he lets out a deep breath, deflating just a bit.
"No. You're not getting charged for assault, sweetheart."
"Don't call me that," you reply, too quick for your brain to catch up. The endearment is entirely too wrong, smarting on a chafing wound, a reminder of the mistakes you'd made, and the deception these men had pulled on you. "...Please."
You refuse to meet his eyes as he nods, slowly, as if in understanding.
"What did he do?" You don't mean to utter those words, to ask that question, but after you do, you can't find it in yourself to regret it. "What made him worthy of death?"
Price rubs a hand over his face, and for the first time, you register the lines of his face. Lines of a story having been told, proof of a life lived. It makes you want to learn, to find the origins of the small scars you can see, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
"He broke many promises. Betrayed his team," Price states, and you can tell the millions of words he leaves out, the context better off left unsaid. "He did terrible things. Killed people who had made no faults."
Oh.
For some reason, it hadn't truly hit you, not before now, the truth behind his death. What hadn't you been told?
How hadn't you been made aware that he was -- he was part of the special forces. He was a dangerous man -- he was one of the men he'd warned you about. How blind had you been? For so long? Those business trips, when he'd come with bruises, brushing them off whenever you gained the courage to make attempts of caring, of forming a relationship with the man who raised you.
They weren't business trips. They were missions -- ones with impossibly high death rates.
And he just.
Hadn't said a word. Just continued to treat you like you were worthless, a nuisance, a pain in his ass. Something worth protecting, if only so your weight in gold wasn't minimised.
What were you to do, if he just. Didn't come home after a mission gone awry? If he died on the field. If you woke up one day without a single living family member left.
You only realise that tears have fallen down your cheeks when Price's thumb brushes them away, your nose scrunching with a sniffle.
Jerking back, as if electrocuted, it takes everything in you to glare at the man whose gentle hands had led you to this position in the first place. "Don't touch me."
He backs away. Doesn't argue.
It hurts your heart in a way you don't want to touch with a ten foot pole. Not right now. Not ever, maybe. Preferably.
You let out a deep, stabilising exhale, before weakly meeting Price's gaze. "Can I sleep? Feeling kinda shit after the drugs," you mumble.
Price's lips twist into a grim line, but he nods curtly. "'Course, kid. Call out if you need 'nything."
You just lay back, turning on your side, facing the white wall as the lights turn off, leaving pitch black in its wake. Your wrist smarts where the handcuff has left a red mark, your free hand rubbing at the small patch of visible skin.
If you were more aware, more... ready for the conversations you needed to have, you would've demanded all four of them speak to you right this moment.
But your head is heavy, and thoughts are few and far between.
Grief and confusion cement in your brain like a thick fog, your emotions like cars without lights in the thick mist.
No directions, no ability to brake before crashing into one another.
You're an absolute mess, and you have no one to blame but you and your sick curiosity, your reckless decision making.
But, you realise, this was a long time coming.
Because there's one thing Price -- nor the other three men -- don't know.
Your father wasn't the only one who held secrets.
And it was you who held the key to this force's undoing.
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a/n. lol so like. who's ready for some enemies to lovers? sorry to everyone who wanted immediate hurt/comfort!! for some reason plot lines and depth hit me and i was like. i need to do it justice. so here we are!!!
thank you all SOSOSO much for the reception of the first part. it genuinely means a lot to have people excited about my stories??? like omg youre all SO kind. comments and reblogs make my absolute week!! mwah mwah mwah
taglist comment/msg to be added. @captainjamster @alfa-jor @simp4miguell @yaboibauldano @dreamaboutpinkk @guyser @lovewithasideoflust @redz0mbie @ghost-is-my-bbg @astro-ghoul99 @the-faceless-bride @casterousaudrey @cutiecusp @kit-williams @lilpothoscuttings @florabelll
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inkdrinkerworld · 5 months ago
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You're little corner of the world seems so cozy! I love your background pic 🫶🏻
If you wouldn't mind, could you write a polymarauders story with an autistic female reader? Where she shows autistic traits but doesn't realize what she's doing until Remus asks her about her autism and she's like "what"? Symptoms shown are stimming and going nonverbal whilst watching a movie at home with the boys.
Thanks love!
You’re wringing your hands to all hell as the movie plays on the tv screen. Your boyfriends had wanted to watch an action horror and while you weren’t opposed to horror, this one had your heart racing.
Remus is in the kitchen getting you more kettle corn, James is laying on the loveseat waiting for his return and Sirius’ head is in your lap.
You’re all a picture of cosiness, the rain outside beating down on the roof while you’ve all opted for long sleeved sweaters and fluffy blankets across your laps. Still, the comfort of both the weight of Sirius, James near you and your blankets isn’t enough to help you not twist and pull at your fingers.
“Doing alright, doll?” Sirius asks, turning in your lap so he can look at you. His question isn’t loud enough to pull James from the macabre scenes on the tv; at least not yet.
“Mhm,” Sirius’ eyes narrow as you push the joint of your thumb.
“Need me to find something else for us to watch?” That would honestly be ideal, but you’ve all been wanting to watch this for weeks.
“No, I think it just needs to get past this part and I’ll be okay.”
Remus comes back just as Sirius sits up, changing his position so you’re laying in his lap instead.
“Everything okay?” James asks as Remus keeps hold of the popcorn bowl.
“Fine, think she’s just overstimulated with the scenes right now.” Sirius says softly, not wanting you to feel bad but also not wanting to hide anything from your boyfriends.
You’re not upset by it; though you do wish James wouldn’t look at you in as much horror as he is now.
James is ready to flick off the tv and find something else for you to look at when you shake your head.
“S’okay Jamie, I’ll be better once this is over.” You sound less sure than you’d like to. James pauses the movie anyhow.
Remus sets the kettle corn down and kneels in front of you, holding onto your ankle.
“Dovey,” his voice quiet but not one you can lie to. It’s hard to lie to any of them, but Remus is even harder to lie to. “If you need us to change the movie it’s no biggie. We can watch it another day.”
You’re thankful Remus doesn’t say ‘on a better day,’ today hasn’t been bad, this was just a sudden shift.
You hold his eyes, Sirius stroking your cheek as James stands, not able to bear the fact that he’s the only one with his hands off you.
“Can we look at something else?” James breathes a relieved sigh, looking through your favourite set of movies.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, not wanting to look at any of them in their eyes. There’s a little bubble of shame, that you can’t sit still for a two hour movie because your mind is whirring and overstimulated.
“Stop it, baby.” James says, opening his arms to you and you rush over. James lets you tuck your head under his chin, his big arms holding you close to him as you relax. Sirius and Remus cuddle up next to the two of you, not even minding that you all hardly fit on the loveseat.
“Legally Blonde okay, poppet?” you nod, stretching to kiss all your boyfriends on their head, cuddling right up between them as Elle Woods braves your screen.
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mattyriddlesbitch · 6 days ago
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It Should Be You
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: cussing, mentions of the battle of Hogwarts, mentions of death, pretty angsty
Another one way off schedule but I was inspired and wrote this in 1.5 hours. Enjoy.
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4 years. It had been 4 years now since you last saw him. Your boyfriend, Mattheo who tragically passed away during the battle at Hogwarts. He tried protecting you as best as he could. He tried keeping you out of everything involving his father. He just disappeared a few days before the battle without a word and was never seen again. The word spread was that his father killed him and the ministry accepted that, marked him as legally dead and moved on.
Only you and a few of his friends held a funeral for him. It took several hours and his best friend Thedore physically pulling you away to get you back home from where you guys set up his headstone. With no body, you guys were able to set up a little headstone for him in an empty field near Hogwarts. That was his home. It felt like the most appropriate place.
Your relationship may have been difficult at times, especially with everything with his father. But he was the sweetest, funniest, and just overall best boyfriend-best partner-you ever had. No one before or after him made you feel the way you did with him. His death completely broke your heart into pieces, and never even fully recovered.
After a few years, your parents set you up with a man your age, Nathaniel. He was sweet and kind and you got along with him just fine, but he wasn't Mattheo. But you being with him made your parents happy and you didn't completely hate him. He was better than the other guys you dated, other than Mattheo, obviously. And he never saw your love for your late boyfriend as competition. He would support you and help you with your grief. Which made you feel a little worse about everything.
You liked the guy, but you didn't love him. That sounds so awful, but it was true. Your heart belonged to Mattheo. Even in his death.
Still, he was second best to Mattheo. And since his death, you felt so lonely. No one could really blame you for trying to move on.
So when Nathaniel asked you to marry him, you agreed. You went through the motions, pretending the wedding was with Mattheo instead. You picked out the colors you talked about previously, the flowers, the songs, everything was what Mattheo and you already decided. Your fiance didn't really care anyways about wedding planning. He just wanted you to be happy.
Your poor bridesmaids thought it was about you finding the perfect dress, and that was part of it, but it was mostly just knowing it was the most perfect dress for your and Mattheo's wedding. 
The only part that made you break down was wedding dress shopping. You could hear Mattheo giving his opinions about the dresses. “Too low cut, too lacy, too simple, not you, absolutely not.” But the one dress you put on where you could just hear him say ‘yes’ and admire you, it made you burst into tears.
The wedding that won't happen because he's dead and you're marrying Nathaniel.
Once the wedding was planned and set, the time felt like it flew by. Suddenly you were in the bride's room getting your hair and makeup done and getting into your wedding dress. You asked everyone to leave once you were ready and just sat down. The noise of the rain coming down hitting the window was the only sound you could hear.
Of course it had to rain on your wedding day. Though, it was fitting.
You looked at the pictures of you and Mattheo on your phone, trying not to cry and ruin your makeup.
“I'm sorry, Mattheo. It should be you. But you're not here. I…” You swallowed, turning your phone off and looking up. You had so much more to say. Like how you wanted to grow old with him and marry him and, and, and…
Merlin, you were still in love with your dead boyfriend, but marrying some poor guy just so you wouldn't be alone and make your parents happy. How shitty is that?
Maybe you could grow to love Nathaniel. He isn't bad.
If only you could shut off that annoying voice.
But he isn't Mattheo.
One of your bridesmaids knocked on the door to let you know it was about time to walk down the aisle.
You sighed before taking a deep breath and composing yourself. You left the room and got ready with your beautiful bouquet of flowers.
“Sunflowers, because they remind me of us since they face the sun to live, just like how I need you to live.” Mattheo's words echoed in your head as you looked at the flowers.
You looked up in time to hear the piano playing as the first couple walked down the aisle. You wanted to burst into tears again. This is not what you wanted. It should be Mattheo at the end of the aisle. Not Nathaniel.
The rest of the couples went, leaving you by yourself, about to turn the corner to take your first step when the main door behind you burst open. You turned to look at the cause of the noise and saw him.
Mattheo fucking Riddle.
He was standing there, still in the doorway, out of breath, drenched from the rain outside. He was exactly how you remembered him. Though his hair was longer, showing the curls better.
You couldn't even speak, you were so stunned.
“Don't marry him.” The words rushed out Mattheo's mouth as he was still catching his breath.
“What?” It was all you could manage.
“Don't fucking marry him.” He said, coming over to you now.
“I'm not hallucinating, am I?” You whispered to him when he was standing right in front of you.
“No, no. I'm sorry. It's a long story, but when I heard you were getting married, I couldn't…” He swallowed, looking down at the wedding dress. “Please tell me I'm not too late.”
“You're alive. What are you doing here? Where have you been?” You asked, all sorts of emotions running through you.
“Stopping your wedding. God, you're so beautiful.” He said, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. “Don't marry him. Run away with me. And I'll answer everything.”
“Mattheo, I…” You sighed in disbelief.
“Please. I'm here now. Please?” He moved his hand off of your cheek to grab one of your hands.
You looked behind you to where everyone was waiting for you just around the corner. 
“(Y/N), love, please? I'm giving you the rest of my life. Just walk out of here with me.”
You could hear the piano stalling the music as they waited for you and you saw your mom peek her head around the corner to see the delay, her jaw dropping at seeing Mattheo.
He smiled before turning back to the exit and pulling you with him in a run outside. You hair, makeup, and dress were all ruined within 10 seconds, but you couldn't care less when the man you loved for years was now running away with you.
“I'm sorry.” You told her before dropping the bouquet and turning back to Mattheo.
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myzticbean · 2 months ago
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Cat!Dad Series: You're My "Maine" Squeeze
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Pairing: Qin Che | Sylus / MC (fem! reader) Tags: Super fluff, established relationship, cute cats, domestic bliss Can also read at A03
Previous posts in the Cat!Dad series:
Zayne: Quit kitten around - let's celebrate
Title: You’re My “Maine” Squeeze
Wrapping my arms around Sylus, I rest my hands against the motorcycle’s tank as it rockets down the dark street. I slip a hand under his leather jacket as we both lean into the tight corner, disappearing into the condo’s underground private entrance. The motorcycles that had been following us blew past, unaware we had already made our getaway. 
I laugh, a little giddy from the rush of adrenaline at the chase and successful escape (ahem, joyride), hugging his broad back and resting my helmet between his shoulder blades as he slows and parks the bike. 
“I told you it would be fun,” Sylus says calmly after he pulls off his helmet. I tug mine off as well, my bun squished to my head and tangled flyaway hairs sticking to my face, but I know I’m still grinning from ear to ear. 
“Another successful mission with my criminal mastermind partner,” I chuckle, shaking my hair out of the hair tie before throwing it back up into a ponytail. I swing my leg over and hop off the bike, and he stands as well, wrapping me in his arms in a quick hug. 
We wear matching black leather jackets, my curb stomping boots laced up over black jeans, and a custom thigh holster holding my (not-quite-legal) gun. I lean into his embrace, lifting my face to smile smugly at him.
“Admit it, I definitely helped you a lot this time.”
“You literally started a fight and got us thrown out -- of my own club,” he answers sardonically, tightening his grip around my shoulders and waist. But he can’t hide the lip twitch of amusement and the softness in his gaze as he stares down at me. 
“You needed to hire better help anyways,” I say airily, stepping out of his embrace and flicking a strand of my ponytail back over my shoulder saucily. “That they didn’t even recognize their boss…tut.”
“You do realize most people shouldn’t recognize me, otherwise it defeats the purpose of being the mysterious leader of an underground organization,” he responds dryly, locking the steering on his bike and grabbing the straps of our helmets in one hand. 
“That they didn’t even recognize your dark, dangerous, and sensual aura and let you do whatever you wanted is just a crime against nature,” I answer cheekily. I open my mouth to continue my teasing despite his grimace, when the hissing and howling of cats interrupts me.
As we neared the elevators, I saw a couple of cats brawling, two smaller dark colored tomcats wrestling a dirty, fluffy, absolute monster of a cat. Even while clearly outnumbered, it was holding its own and about to turn the tide of the fight when another cat appeared, intent on jumping into the fray. 
“Oh no,” I say, taking an unconscious step forward. I wasn’t sure how to intervene without getting scratched to holy hell when an empty can was suddenly thrown from behind, clattering as it pelted one of the dark cats on top. 
It screamed, not that it was actually hurt, but more in surprise as it backed off of the giant cat on the bottom. Without waiting, the big cat sprang to its feet, roaring like a tiny lion and racing forward aggressively. 
The tomcat didn’t bother waiting around to see if it could take the big cat on - it scrambled to its feet and raced away, the other cats following close behind. The bigger cat stopped, sitting on the ground in exhaustion, bloody scratch marks on its face, back and ears. 
“You poor thing,” I murmur, squatting down to try to get a closer look. It would probably be pretty skittish, especially if it has been a feral, unneutered male used to roaming the streets of the N109 zone and surviving. 
It turns to look at me at the sound of my voice, its tail flicking back and forth as it surveys me from where it sits on the cold concrete. “I wonder if he’ll let us take care of his wounds,” I say to Sylus who stands behind me, his hand propped casually on one hip as he looks between me and the cat.
“It’s a tom, probably not,” he answers.
“I tamed you,” I say a little tongue-and-cheek as I glance at him slyly over my shoulder. 
“Hmm,” he hums thoughtfully. “I might argue it was the other way around, kitten.”
“Here kitty, kitty,” I whisper, flicking my fingers at him. I moved to kneel down on one knee, not moving closer, but holding my hand out in case he wants to come over for a sniff.
The cat didn’t deign to move closer, but also doesn’t seem afraid or inclined to scamper away from us. He just peers at me with intent yellow eyes, his fluffy tail flipping back and forth as if to lure me in with the promise of touching it.
I can’t help myself -- I shuffle forward a little bit, my hand still outreached, wanting to see if he’ll let me get close enough to at least take a better look at his scrapes. He’s certainly not afraid - his watchful eyes are flickering all around. 
“Look at this handsome boy,” I croon, voice pitched a little lower, trying to entice him to take a step towards me. I wish I had some food for him. 
Sylus just sighs behind me. 
“Ignore him, kitty,” I suggest, trying to stifle a giggle when I see the cat’s yellow eyes briefly dart behind me before locking back onto mine. “You are definitely the biggest, most handsome cat on the block. If you come juuuust a little closer, I want to make sure you haven’t been hurt.”
The cat yawns, his sharp teeth on full display before he licks his nose and gives me a blink. 
“That’s right, big guy. You know I won’t hurt you.” 
Sylus suddenly chuckles behind me. “Let’s do this a little faster, shall we?” Without pausing, he activates his Evol, wrapping the cat in red and black swirls of color and lifting it into the air. It yowls in immediate displeasure, thrashing and kicking.
“Oh, don’t-” I try to say, before Sylus deposits it in my arms, though still wrapped up and held immobile by his power.
It freezes, looking up into my face, while I peer down at him. “It’s okay, kitty, I won’t hurt you,” I say soothingly. I resist the urge to pet it - it’s trapped and can’t escape, and my touch could do more harm than good. Instead I hold him close against me, cradling him gently in my arms as Sylus guides me towards our private elevator. 
We ascend to the penthouse as I’m trying to look over his wounds - with his thick hair, it doesn’t seem like he sustained too much damage, but I wouldn’t be sure until I could investigate more thoroughly. He is, however, extremely dirty and covered in fleas, which I can see crawling through the dirty fuzz. 
“He needs a bath,” I say, looking him over. “Do you think we should take him to a vet instead?”
Sylus scoffs quietly behind me as we enter our private floor. “I’ll make a call.” 
“My rich boyfriend is so strong and powerful,” I laugh, walking further into the condo and heading towards the bathroom. 
“Do we have any of that blue dish soap?” I call out as I settle the cat down in the shower. I need to grab a towel, and with Sylus’ Evol still activated, he won’t be able to move too much. I kick off my shoes and socks and grab a few fluffy dark towels from underneath the sink, whispering to the cat as I reach for one of the handheld shower heads. Since the shower is big enough for 10 people, the cat is safely outside of the spray as I test out the water and let it warm up.
“What a good boy you are,” I croon, kneeling down by the cat once the temperature has been adjusted, gently allowing the warm water to soak into his fur. The cat gives a grimace and gnashes his teeth, but otherwise doesn’t fight it. 
“Yes, you’re so smart, what a sweet kitty you are. You were definitely going to win. It was three-on-one, and look how strong and brave you were…” I ramble on and on as I soak him from the neck down, gently carding my fingers through his fur to try to get him completely wetted. 
Sylus walks in with a bottle of the dish soap, rolling his eyes a little at my running commentary. “I’m worried about you, sweetie,” he says lightly, squatting by the shower entrance and setting down the soap bottle. 
“Hush,” I say, fighting back a smile as I throw a mock-glare over my shoulder. “Squeeze me,” I say, holding out one palm.
“I wish,” he mutters before he obliges, squirting a heaping handful of soap.
I soap my palms together and get to work, thoroughly (but gently) cleaning up the poor, battered cat. His cuts and scrapes aren’t bad, but I’m careful to avoid getting too much soap in those areas to avoid any stinging. I keep speaking to the cat, voice low and calm, and he doesn’t otherwise flinch at being doused in water and soap.
“I wonder if he was someone’s pet?” I question thoughtfully. “He’s too well behaved for a feral cat.”
Sylus just hums but doesn’t say anything, his Evol still containing the cat though it’s obvious the animal isn’t fighting it. I make sure to wash off as much of the dirt and fleas as I can, rinsing and repeating one more time, and the amount of dirt pooling beneath the two of us turned the pale gray tile completely black. 
But as the cat emerges, clean and victorious, I’m astounded to see a pure white beauty in its majestic display. “He’s so handsome,” I gasp, gently drying him off with a soft towel. 
“I know, you’ve already mentioned it many times,” Sylus says dryly, but the humor glinting in his ruby-colored eyes is obvious. “I always knew you’d be a cat person.”
“You call me kitten often enough, I thought it was obvious,” I say, smiling playfully. 
It’s quiet again for a moment as I finish drying the cat off, before noting, “I don’t think he’s seriously hurt, but he had fleas and could use a check up.” 
As if waiting for my remark, the doorbell chimes, announcing a visitor. I look over at Sylus, who has climbed to his feet and casually strolls out of the bathroom. 
I reach out, cradling the cat in a new clean towel and exit the bathroom and into the living room where a man with a black kit is waiting for us. Without much expression and with almost no conversation, he takes the cat from my arms and begins his check up, and the cat -- who is still held by the black strands -- immediately begins to meow and scream non-stop.
“Oh, poor baby,” I whisper, clenching my hands but unable to help. I look on in concern, trying not to react as the impersonal vet quickly doctors the cat’s wounds and gives him a few shots. 
“He’ll be fine in a few days. I’ve given him his vaccinations, and a pill that will help kill off the remaining fleas.” 
“What kind of cat is he?” I ask, the cat looking even larger as the fur dries.
“I’d guess Maine Coon based on his size and features,” the vet says. “You can do a DNA test if you want to know for sure.”
“Will he get bigger or is he fully grown?”
The man lifted the cat’s lips, checking his teeth. “He’s a young cat, maybe still under a year old, so I would guess he’s still growing. Maine Coons can keep growing until they are around two years old.”
He gives me a few instructions on how to continue caring for the animal, and without much fanfare, leaves. 
“Let’s let him free now,” I murmur to Sylus after setting him down on the floor. Sylus releases his Evol, and the cat slowly stands, taking a few steps and sniffing the air. 
“He’s so cute,” I sigh, watching him tentatively explore his new surroundings. 
“He better not pee on anything until we can get him neutered,” Sylus mutters. “We’ll never get the smell out.”
I reach out, wrapping my arms around his waist and nuzzling into his chest. “You’re so wonderful,” I say, content and a little tired. The doorbell rings again, and I lift my head off his chest to look up at his face, puzzled. 
He motions for me to go, saying, “Get in the shower, I’ll get him settled. The twins brought some supplies.”
I smile in relief, giving him another squeeze, and silently beg for a kiss as I stand on my toes and lift my face. He cups my chin, brushing warm lips over mine in a chaste kiss. He gives me a second kiss on my forehead.
“Go on,” he murmurs. “I’ll join you soon.”
More than a week has passed since we rescued the cat. I’ve had to travel to and from Linkon for work, but Sylus never asks if I am going to take the cat with me or drop it off at the shelter. Instead, the cat seems to settle into the plush penthouse as if he had never lived a life on the outside, his kingly attitude right at home in the dark, romantic surroundings. 
After arriving a little later than I expected, I put my overnight bag away in the bedroom before I grab one of the new cat toys lying about. It’s a stick with a feather dangling from a string, and I flick it around on the floor and up in the air, laughing aloud as the cat makes a daring leap trying to catch it. 
“You can do it, Junior,” I cheer as he stretches out his paws, dagger-like nails exposed. Mephisto caws angrily in the corner, pacing back and forth on his stand as he watches the playful cat. They’ve been sassing each other all week, with the kitty missing chunks of hair and Mephisto decidedly more ruffled looking with mechanical feathers lying twisted on the ground. 
The door opens and Sylus walks in just in time to hear me, raising his eyebrows as he comes towards me carrying a couple of shopping and garment bags. 
“Please don’t tell me that name means what I think it means?” he sighs.
I start giggling and the cat takes a flying leap, tackling me to the ground. I ooph out a rush of air, his heavy body colliding with mine as I clutch him to my belly and roll backwards. Sylus drops the bags into the couch and strides over, grabbing the cat by the scruff of the neck and tossing him (somewhat gently) onto the coffee table. He reaches down, helping me to my feet as I fight off a giddy laugh. 
“It’s exactly what you think,” I answer, a sly smile twisting my lips as I reach down to pat Junior on the top of his head, his large, fuzzy ears twisting to catch our voices. “He looks just like his daddy, after all…”
“I did not, in fact, sire a cat. But if my little kitten is so inclined to have her own litter, I could be persuaded.”
I burst out laughing, pushing at his shoulder (he didn’t budge). “I’m not ready for a baby right now. Baby making, however…”
His eyes glint in the light, strangely dark as he locks his gaze onto mine, tugging me closer and into a tight embrace. He leans down, nuzzling his face into my neck, arms wrapped around my waist. “Let’s go practice now,” he suggests, teeth nipping gently at my skin in blatant invitation. 
I sigh, languid from the pleasure that courses up my spine as he trails long fingers down my back in a slow caress. He kisses me tenderly, tongue tracing the seam of my mouth before I open to let him in, our tongues pressing against each other in unhurried exploration. We’ve kissed hundreds of times, but each press of his lips to mine brings a fresh wash of affection and excitement.
I lift my arms to wrap around his neck, falling deeper into his kiss, but a demanding howl from the coffee table shatters the moment. I look down, meeting the irritated eyes of the cat staring back at me. “Sorry, Junior. You shouldn’t be watching mommy and daddy like this.”
Sylus stifles a long exhale before he reaches down, adjusting himself, and steps away back towards the bags. I follow along with interest, trying to peek into the bags, but he covers it up. 
“You can open this one now,” he says, holding out a shopping bag. “I’ll show you the others later.”
I look with interest at the other handful of bags and garment bags, but don’t press. I’ve learned that any surprise from Sylus is well worth the wait. Instead, I tear open the bag and read the brand name on the box. “Evol CommuniCollar?” I question, looking up at him in surprise. “Aren’t these ridiculously expensive?”
He scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. “Maybe if you’re not me.”
I roll my eyes. “You are such a snob sometimes.” I eagerly read the description. “It says here that it can translate everything your pet says into human language. This is so cool!”
I sit down and start fumbling to open the box, tearing off the flap corners in my haste to get it open. “Oops, I hope we don’t need to return this,” I say. He looks completely unconcerned as he settles on the couch next to me, as Junior perches politely on the coffee table near my knee, tail swishing back and forth. 
Reading the instructions, I open my phone and download the app as Sylus checks the battery charge on the collar. I fill in Junior’s information, noting his suggested breed and age in the settings. While Sylus isn’t watching, I set the AI voice to one of my favorite male celebrities that is (surprisingly) available in the list. 
Sylus gently adjusts it around the cat’s neck, making sure his fur isn’t being pulled or tangled, and gives him a single pat on the head.
Junior is still watching Sylus and gives a tiny meow, and the collar suddenly beeps, a deep, masculine AI-voice is clearly projecting from the collar. “Father.”
I gasp, practically swooning on the couch. “He knows you’re his dad,” I squeal, covering my mouth to hide the huge grin. Sylus looks taken aback, one eyebrow raised as he stares down at the cat that is still looking up at him. He obviously recognizes the voice when I see his sidelong glance at me. 
I hurriedly continue reading the instructions. “While animals may not experience the same family bonds, environmental stimulus, language or emotional capacity that humans do, they’ve been able to map the closest electrical triggers to feelings that we can understand.”
I laugh a little. “So I guess he knows you aren’t his birth father. Maybe you’re his step-dad.”
The kitty looks at me chuckling on the couch, attention flicking back and forth, and as he looks at me directly, he gives a single, long blink. “Wife.” The masculine voice is low and rumbly as he purrs a little.
My mouth drops open, and I don’t dare to look at Sylus. I’m trying desperately to stifle a cackle of mischievous delight, and I reach out to stroke my hand along his back. 
“No,” Sylus says, reaching out to catch my hand. “Don’t reward him for bad behavior.”
“How is he being bad?” I ask, choking on my laughter. I’m trying not to cry, eyes welling up as I gasp for breath.
“This collar is defective. Let’s throw it away,” he says resolutely, reaching out a hand to unclasp the collar from the cat before I bat his hand away.
“Don’t you dare. This is priceless.” I try to be stern, but my quivering lips and definitely giving it away.
He looks slightly irritated but does take his hands away and folds his arms across his chest. I turn back to the cat, giving him a little scritch behind one fluffy ear, and he closes his eyes, rumbling in pleasure. 
“Feels good. It’s itchy,” the cat collar says in its low, dulcet tones. “Wife. Wife.” The purrs get a little louder when I switch to the other ear.
“No, I’m your mom,” I correct, and the collar gives another little beep with tiny rumbling noises as if to translate what I said.
“No, not mother. Wife,” the cat collar responds, and the cat blinks up at me again, holding eye contact. 
I cover my mouth to hide my laughter when I see Sylus stiffen up beside me. “No, I’m your mother. And this is your dad,” I say, pointing to Sylus. “I’m his wife.”
I pretend I don’t see Sylus whip his head around to look at me. I’m trying to make a point to a cat, and this is the easiest way to get it across. How would a cat understand human dating behavior? 
The cat looks obviously disgruntled as the collar makes more translation noises. His tail lashes angrily back and forth, and he turns his head away from me, obviously not agreeing to my words. 
I lean forward, giving him a little kiss on his forehead, ignoring his mew of unhappiness. “I love you so much, my handsome little guy. You’re the bestest boy, aren’t you?” 
“Yes, I’m the best cat. Better than the bird,” the collar agrees, and the cat turns to nuzzle his head into my chin.
I pepper little kisses all over his cute little cat face. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I’m hungry. I’d like dinner, please. I want the fish one. The wet food, not the crunch food.” 
“Oh, you like the tuna more than the chicken? You should really eat the kibble too, it’s better for your teeth if you can eat some crunchy food,” I say, and we walk into the kitchen, chatting together. 
Sylus leans back against the couch cushions, sighing as scrubs one hand over his face before climbing to his feet and going to store away the bags.
Junior and I chatter back and forth, his sentences slowly becoming longer and more in-depth the more the collar was used. 
He finally finishes his food and I ask to gently wipe his face and whiskers with a clean towel, and he happily obliges, purring loudly as I clean him up. We walk together back into the living room, where Sylus has once more taken a seat on the couch, the fireplace crackling and the low throb of classical music coming from the record player. 
“Father,” Junior murmurs, leaping onto the couch and then clambering into Sylus’ lap (uninvited, but also undeterred). I smile, nestling into his side as he raises an arm and pulls me in closer. 
“Father, play with me. Play with me,” the cat begs, raising one paw and tapping it against Sylus’ chest. 
I try to bite back a smile, shifting away slightly so I can quickly snap a photo. Sylus resigns himself, reaching down to flick one furry ear before he tugs gently at a whisker. The cat grows ever more exasperated as he tries to bat away Sylus’ hand, who snaps his fingers and conjures up a handful of black feathers dusting along Junior’s head and back. 
“You wanted to play, and now you’re mad?” Sylus asks, listening to the cat muttering profanities (with the help of the collar) and hiding a small smile. 
Finally the cat huffs and flops down, and the feathers immediately disappear. We both look down at the large cat stretching himself along the length of Sylus’ thighs, Junior’s head resting closer to his stomach. I reach out, giving him a scritch as I nuzzle into Sylus’ broad shoulder.
Sylus presses a tender kiss to my forehead as he sweeps one long-fingered hand down the back of the cat in a soothing, absent-minded stroke. He drops his head, feathering kisses across the bridge of my nose and cheeks, before pressing a deeper, sweeter kiss to my lips. 
“So about that litter of kittens you mentioned…” I pull away to whisper into his ear as Junior finally settles and little snores start to emerge. 
Activating his Evol, he carries that cat over to his bed, settling him into the cushions lightly while he stands and hefts me over his shoulder. “Practice makes perfect, sweetie,” he purrs, striding into the bedroom and shutting the door while I try to muffle my giggles.
Junior licks his lips, snuggling deeper into his bed and drifting off into an even deeper, satisfied sleep.
Cat image source
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curseofaphrodite · 1 month ago
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PRE-OWNED RECORDS
Sirius Black x muggle!reader || fluff
summary: the time Sirius sneaked away from Hogwarts to see you.
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The thrift store looked as cozy as ever, which was the obvious effect of a place filled with things that people had previously loved. The crooked statues and trinkets near the door, the sound of a Little Richard record playing somewhere behind the back, the huge stack of battered old books — all of them made you excited like the very first time you stepped inside.
You looked at the boy you came with and saw a gleam in his eyes that you haven't ever seen before.
"Pretty, isn't it?" you asked, taking a brown butterfly hairclip from the basket near him. Sirius still hasn't finished taking in the shop's eccentrics.
"It's so cool," he said in awe.
You laughed. You could see why he'd be so surprised. Sirius Black had been homeschooled all his life, or that's what he says anyway. All you know is that your strange, rich, pretty neighbour never comes out of his house unless it's the holiday season. When you ask him about it, he says his mother is old-fashioned and traditional. You hadn't understood what he meant until you saw her once yourself. From her attire to her cold glare, that particular cameo still gave you shudders.
Even the times you do see him, he's covered in leaves and dirt, as if he climbed down the window without anyone seeing. Sometimes you wonder if you ought to get him legal help to get him emancipated. But he never looked physically harmed, but he never looked completely okay either.
Str̥angely enough, your holiday friend wasn't out on a holiday though. This visit was right in the middle of the school year. When asked about it, he said something about apparition or desperation that you just decided not to ask further. He looked particularly worn out that day, so you decided to take him to somewhere he'd never been before, which happened to be a very long list. The thrift store was close, so that's the story of how he ended up gawking at the records beside you.
"Who's your favorite?" you asked, actually curious. Apart from his unusual attire and confused looks when you mention anything from music, you haven't had the faintest clue as to who he even listened to.
"Stubby Boardman?"
You blinked. "Uhm, you mean Buddy Holly?"
"Yeah, sure." Sirius looked more interested in the records before him. He brushed past the unorganized stack with a faraway look in his eyes. He then turned to you questioningly. You jumped a little and looked away because you realized you might have been staring a little too much at him.
"Look at this!" You were thankfully saved by the orange and red album in front of you. You reached for it gleefully, making a happy sound. "I've been looking for this edition for such a long time! Oh, I can't believe they have it!"
"Are they any good?" he asked, matching your level of excitement.
"The best," you sighed, hugging it closer.
This particularly sweet moment was cut short when you heard a small commotion at the front of the store.
Sirius's face showed immediate panic. "I knew that cat looked familiar!" He said, rushing to the cashier's area.
"The cat?" you blinked in confusion, then followed him.
A woman stood in the spot, wearing the biggest black hat you'd ever seen. She had small spectacles and smart, shrewd eyes behind them. She looked exhaustingly mad, as if she'd been in plenty of situations like this before.
"I'm still learning the ropes of apparition?" Sirius tried, smiling meekly. "I've no clue how I've ended up here."
"Mr. Black, you've excelled in apparition and rest assured, even the most horrible student wouldn't end up hundreds of miles away from where they are. I'm sorry to interrupt your date but you're coming with me right this instant!"
"Who is this?" you asked. The woman turned her gaze on you, and the wheels seemed to turn in her head.
"Let's go," she said more sharply.
"I enrolled in a boarding school?" Sirius directed the answer at you, though it sounded more like a lame excuse. The woman did not look happy to be ignored. "I've to go now but I'll explain everything when I'm back okay?"
"No, you won't!" the woman said shrilly.
"I'm sorry but you all have to leave," the cashier said, looking like she's had enough. "We don't have squabbles inside the store."
Sirius looked a tiny bit sad. Being unofficially thrown out of the store was not how you thought how the day would go, but you sighed and walked out anyways.
Your phone rang. It was your father, asking you to pick up the groceries on your wy back. By the time you hung up, both Sirius and the lady was nowhere to be seen.
----------------------------------
"You're young and that's a fancy word for naive," Minerva said, walking or slightly running down the hall. Sirius struggled to keep up.
"She's going to understand."
She stopped in her tracks and Sirius almost crashed into her.
"That's not what I meant. How do you think your mother would take the fact that you're friends with a muggle? Let alone more than friends?"
Sirius blushed. "There's not more—"
"Oh, I'm not stupid. But that's not what this is about either. You're bringing her to her doom if you keep visiting her under Walburga's nose."
"She's all I have at that place!"
"That's not true. There's a person in your own house who needs you, but you seem to forget that."
"Regulus is like the rest of them. He's not who he was," Sirius said promptly. His words were harder than before. "If you doubt it, look for the mark in his arm."
Without waiting for her reply, he stormed away. To hell with the detentions, he thought. I have to do one more thing back in my town.
----------------------
The next morning, the first thing you thought of while waking up was the boy with dark long curls and brown pretty eyes. You wondered if you dreamt him up.
There was a part of you that wanted to be mad that he left without a goodbye, but you actually didn't mind. Something said he'd be back soon enough.
"Hey kiddo," your dad knocked on your door and walked in, holding something familiar in his hands. "Someone left this at the door. Must be for you."
You gasped, grabbing the red and orange record from his hands.
"How—?"
"There was no note." He shook his head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a secret admirer. Now come down to the kitchen, we made pancakes."
"I'll be right there," you mumbled, examining the album once again. Once he left the room, you immediately went to the player.
While you took out the record, you noted something eerily familiar to dog hair sticking on the sides.
THE END
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masterlist | KOFI | commissions
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nehi-soda · 4 months ago
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Once More to See You - DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader No Outbreak AU
Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.
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Summary: Joel knew exactly how to drive you wild, make you forget everything but the sensation of him; make you forget he was breaking your heart.
Word count: 2.5K
Warnings: POSSIBLY DUBCON as reader has been drinking (also tagged), P in V sex, ANGST, smut, secret relationship, praise kink, dirty talk, cream pie, heartbreak, Joel is kind of a dick, dbf!joel, au!joel, no outbreak!joel. Legal age gap (reader is early 20s, and Joel is 56). No use of Y/N. Mood board for aesthetics only; reader's features aren't specified other than Joel can pick them up.
A/N: Posting this a day late as I literally only started writing it yesterday out of nowhere. Enjoy!
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Joel's annual fourth of July party was in full swing. Children were running around with sparklers, families were gathered around picnic tables laden with food, and the air was filled with music. Tommy was in control of the music, so of course, AC/DC and Lynard Skynrd had been playing all day. The smell of grilling burgers and hot dogs wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of freshly mowed grass and the tang of chlorine from the pool.
You spotted Joel near the grill, expertly flipping burgers and chatting animatedly with your dad. You felt a flutter of excitement, eager to see him after your last…hangout. As you approached, he glanced your way but quickly looked away, focusing intently on the food.
"Hey, Joel," you called out, trying to sound casual despite the nervous anticipation in your voice.
"Hey," he replied, not meeting your eyes, his tone brisk. He immediately turned to your dad, asking about the game they were planning to watch tomorrow.
You hovered nearby, hoping for a chance to talk, but every time you tried to engage him, he found a way to sidestep your attempts. First, he asked another guest to grab more buns from the kitchen. Then, he excused himself to check on the drinks. Each time you approached, he either walked away or started a conversation with someone else.
Determined not to give up, you followed him to the drinks table, where he was refilling the coolers with ice and beverages. "Joel, can we talk for a minute?" you asked, keeping your voice low.
"I'm busy right now," he said curtly, not even glancing up. He continued to work, his movements tense and hurried.
Your frustration grew as the party continued. You watched him from across the yard, perched on a bench gripping your solo cup tightly as he laughed and chatted with everyone else while avoiding you like the plague. You noticed the way he stiffened whenever you were nearby, how he seemed to find any excuse to move away from you.
“Hey, loner,” your friend Kayleigh slid in next to you, nudging your side. You didn’t answer.
“Um… you…oka-.”
“Not right now, Kay,” you answer abruptly, standing up to get yourself another drink. You downed it in one to try and quell the unease sitting in your stomach. Although it just made you feel even more sick. Something was up.
The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow and someone had started setting up fireworks for later. Joel had just left the grill, heading toward the house with a tray of empty dishes. This was your chance. With a few more drinks in your system, you'd found the courage to quickly follow him, catching up as he reached the back door.
"Joel, we need to talk. Now," you said firmly, grabbing his arm to stop him.
He looked around, clearly uncomfortable, his eyes darting to make sure no one was watching. "Not here," he muttered.
You tailed him into the kitchen.
He began absent-mindedly washing up some dishes with his back to you.
"Alright, what’s going on? Why have you been ignoring me all day?" you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest trying to sound confident.
“How much have you had to drink?” He said, ignoring your question.
“Not a lot,” you retorted, heat rising up your body.
“That’s a fuckin’ lie,” he scoffed in his southern drawl.
“Oh, so I'm the bad person now, huh?” You replied a little too loudly. “I’m just some silly little girl who doesn’t know anything, running around after you, wondering when you might fuck me next!”
Joel threw a dish into the sink with a loud clatter, making you jump. He turned to face you, his eyes flashing. "You think this is easy for me?" he hissed, keeping his voice low but intense.
Before you could respond, the kitchen door swung open.
"Hey, you two!" Tommy greeted cheerfully, oblivious to the tension. "Just grabbing another drink. Everything okay in here?"
"Yeah, just fine," Joel replied dryly, turning away from you to look out at the yard.
Tommy lingered momentarily, grabbing a drink from the fridge and chatting casually about the party. “We’re settin’ the fireworks off soon,” he said smugly with a toothy grin.
“Oh, great.” You feigned excitement, trying to act normal, but your heart pounded.
The moment he was gone, Joel turned to you, his eyes fixed. "We can't do this here," he said through gritted teeth.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. "Then where? When? You can't just avoid me forever, Joel."
Joel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Fine. Upstairs. Now." Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed toward the stairs, tugging you along by your arm.
You struggled to keep up with him as his heavy boots marched up the stairs; the drink made coordinating your feet very difficult.
Joel turned to face you once you were in his all-to-familiar bedroom with the door closed behind you.
“This needs to stop,” he said sternly.
Your heart dropped at his words. "Stop what? Us?"
"Yes. Us. It’s wrong, and it’s only goin’ to end badly. For both of us." He placed his hands on his hips.
"But we make each other happy. Isn’t that enough?" You said franticly.
"It’s not that simple," his voice strained. "Your dad… if he ever found out… it would be such a mess.”
You shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes. "But he doesn’t have to find out. We’ve been so careful. Please, Joel…I love you,” you sobbed as he pulled you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly as your fingers twisted in his plaid shirt. The warmth radiating from his body seeped into your bones like a cruel comfort.
"Shhh, I know, baby, it’s okay." Joel hushed, stroking your hair. “It's just so complicated.”
“I don’t care” you pulled back, searching his eyes for any sign that he might change his mind. But all you saw was resignation.
"Please," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Don't do this."
He cupped your face in his hands. “You deserve better than this. Better than sneakin’ around and hidin’. You deserve someone who can give you everything.”
"But I don't want anyone else," you cried, tears streaming down your face. God, you probably looked like a blabbering mess. "I want you."
Joel closed his eyes, pain etched into his features. "And I want you, too. More than you know. But this... it ain't right, darlin’,” and there is was; his velvet drawl reeling you in again. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, and something inside you snapped. The finality of his touch felt like a betrayal. You shoved him back with all your strength, your hands shaking with anger and hurt.
"Don't you dare!" You shouted, your voice trembling with rage. "Don't you fucking dare tell me what's right for me. You don't get to decide that."
Joel just stood there and took it.
“I wish I never fucking met you,” you muttered.
You pushed him again, harder this time. "I wish I never fucking met you!” You repeated.
Joel's expression hardened, and in an instant, he grabbed your arms, backing you up against the wall with a force that knocked the breath out of you. Your eyes were wide as his burned into you, and for a moment, you were actually scared of him. But before you could protest, he was unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. He roughly hiked up your sundress and lifted you up by the backs of your thighs.
"This is what you want?" Joel growled, his voice low and intense. "One last time, huh?"
"Joel, please...", you gasped.
Your heart raced as his lips sloppily crashed against yours. It was intoxicating; you could smell his cologne and the beer on his breath as you wrapped yourself around him, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to lose yourself in him. One last time.
The room spun around you, the noise from the party outside fading into oblivion as he slipped your panties to the side and entered you all at once. You took a sharp breath at the sudden stretch you were unprepared for. His movements were driven by a desperate need, forcing himself into you with a mixture of pain and pleasure as you clung to him like your life depended on it. The boom of fireworks outside was the only momentary glitter of light as he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs and ass; you’d hoped to find bruises there in the morning. A flash of red, then white, then blue lit up the right side of his face."You drive me fuckin’ crazy," he leaned in to mutter against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. "I can't stop thinkin’ ‘bout you."
"Th-then… d-don't," you struggled to get your words out as he knocked the air out of you. “J-just b-be with me..."
“Aaah, fuck, who’s got good pussy baby?” Joel growled, his voice low and rough.
"I... I do," you gasped, barely able to breathe as he thrust brutally against your cervix, each movement sending shockwaves through your body.
"Say it again," he demanded, his pace relentless. "Say it again, baby. I need to hear it."
"I do! " You screamed, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths. "I-I’ve got good pussy, Joel. It’s all y-yours!”
"Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he spat. "Screwing your daddy's best friend." He whispered, raw and guttural, sending shivers through you. You could see the intensity in his eyes, his primal need for you. You started to be able to take him more easily as you became wet with arousal. You arched your back, meeting his thrusts with equal fervour, every part of you alight with pleasure. Joel’s hands gripped you tighter, holding you in place as he pounded into you."Ugh…yes, Joel,” you moaned, nails clawing at his salt-and-pepper locks to pull his lips to yours. “l love it w-when you f-fuck me.”
“Hmm, always feel so good, baby,” he pants, as his cock relentlessly slides in and out of your puffy lips. Each thrust hit that sweet spot deep within you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Joel knew exactly how to drive you wild, make you forget everything but the sensation of him; make you forget he was breaking your heart.
“That’s it, baby, it’s okay, just cum for me, cum all over this cock.”
Your body trembled as you cried out his name, your pleasure shattering through you in waves. You closed your eyes tight, feeling yourself gripping every inch of him as you dug your fingers into his shoulders. Joel held you through it, his strong arms keeping you secured against him and the wall as you came apart.
He followed soon after, his release a powerful, shuddering thing that left him collapsing onto you. He emptied every last bit of him into you with a growl.  You pushed his hair back from his sweaty forehead before he buried his face into the crook of your neck, panting for breath. He pulled out of you with a groan, releasing your legs and letting your feet find the ground again. You shuffled awkwardly, rearranging your underwear and smoothing out your dress. Joel looked away, avoiding your eyes as he did his jeans and belt back up. The silence between you was thick and heavy.
"Is this really it, then?" you asked quietly, your voice trembling as you struggled to keep your composure.
Joel sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. "It has to be. We can't keep doin’ this."
You felt a surge of anger rise in your chest. "So that's it? You just use me one last time and then throw me away?"
He finally met your gaze. "It’s not like that. I never wanted it to end this way.”
You shook your head, tears streaming down your face.
"But we can’t keep playin’ childish fuckin’ games, and you’re too naive to see the damage this could cause.”
"Don’t you dare put this all on me," you snapped, your voice rising. "You’re the one who started this.”
Joel took a step back. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but I can’t see you again,” he said coldly.
You turned away, your heart shattering with every word he said. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. "Fuck you, Joel,” you spat, storming toward the door. You yanked it open and stepped into the hallway.
Downstairs, the sounds of the party continued but it all sounded like you were underwater.
You moved quickly to the front door and stepped out into the night, the cool air hitting your tear-streaked face. You hugged your arms and walked quickly. The air smelt like sulphur as fireworks illuminated the sky. You didn’t stop until you reached home.
The house was eerily quiet. Too quiet.
Your heart felt like it was being crushed in a vise, each breath harder to draw than the last. You could barely see through the blur of tears as you climbed the stairs, having to use your hands to steady yourself.
You reached your room and slammed the door shut, leaning against it for support. Your legs trembled, and you slid down until you was sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest. You clenched your fists, trying to push down the sobs, threatening to break free. You had known the risks, known how wrong it was, but you hadn't been able to help yourself.
Fucking your dad’s best friend, what did you expect; thought you’d live happily ever after with a white picket fence?
Maybe Joel was right. Maybe you were too naïve. You were fucking crazy to think this could have ended any other way.
But no one made you feel like Joel did. No one felt like Joel did. It was electric. The way he touched you, the way he made you feel alive, cherished, and understood, no one had ever come close. Joel was everything you had ever wanted and more. But now, it was all over.
A soft knock on your door. "Sweetie, can we talk?" Your dad’s voice was gentle, but you couldn't face him.
"Go away," you choked out, your voice barely more than a whisper.
“Wondered where you were. You’re missing the fireworks, honey.”
"Please, just leave me alone."
“Hm, Joel did say you weren't feelin’ well, had too much to drink?”
How so desperately you wanted to tell your dad everything just to relieve some of the weight off of your shoulders, but how could you? How could you tell him, oh, by the way, I've been fucking your best friend behind your back for months, buts he’s just ended things and torn my heart into a million pieces? I know exactly just how many kisses fit between his eyes? I know the face he makes when he cums, and I think I can actually feel his cum leaking out of me right now?
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divider credit to @kthice
*title inspired by "Once More to See You" by Mitski
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saintsenara · 6 months ago
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Do you think the wizarding world even has a concept of rape? I don't think this was JKR's intent but love potions are considered perfectly legal, Romilda Vane doesn't get in trouble, Dumbledore doesn't seem to think Merope did anything wrong to Tom Riddle Sr., and despite a member of Magical Law Enforcement witnessing lots of sketchy stuff at the Gaunts' no one steps in to help Merope. Plus we know their society is archaic and lacks modern values - ie. quills, slavery, lack of democracy
it's a great question pal.
the answer for which is under the cut, for the obvious reason that it comes with a trigger warning for rape.
when the statute of secrecy was signed in 1689, rape - defined as "the carnal knowledge of a woman forcibly and against her will" - had been illegal under english law since the middle ages.
however, the "against her will" bit is important here. in the seventeenth century, it was a legal requirement for a victim of rape to prove that she had maintained a continuous state of physical resistance during her assault. in cases where a victim could not prove this, her consent was presumed - even if she had been incapacitated in some way. unsurprisingly, consent was always assumed between husbands and wives.
men could not be raped under the letter of seventeenth-century english law - but the rape and sexual assault of men was illegal under buggery [sodomy] laws, and was often taken much more seriously by the state...
and i think we can plausibly say - should we want to - that, on the basis of what we find in canon, the wizarding world might retain this legal requirement for rape to be indisputably resisted, and that this explains why love potions seem to have no repercussions attached to them.
because, of course, love potions essentially function like date rape drugs, even if they leave their victims appearing to be of sound mind [the officiant who married tom and merope wasn't suspicious of anything, for example - and the only reason ron is so badly affected by the love potion he takes is because it was out of date]. they incapacitate a person to the extent that they cannot offer legitimate consent to sexual acts, and they also incapacitate them to the extent that they cannot physically resist their attacker - in their case, by compelling the person dosed with the potion to regard their attacker as someone they want to have near them.
therefore, if wizarding law only considers rape to be something which is accompanied by evidence of resistance... then using a love potion on somebody would not be rape.
the cultural implications of this are fascinating - especially since [no matter what jkr thinks] the wizarding world appears to be restrictive [by the standards of muggle britain in the 1990s and 2000s - although, unfortunately for those of us on our high horses about coming from a superior nation, not by the standards of muggle ireland...] in terms of conventions surrounding sexual behaviour and gendered expectations placed upon women.
the marriage age for women is extremely low [any woman whose wedding date we can pin-point in canon - molly weasley, andromeda tonks, lily potter, fleur delacour - gets married as a teenager]; the age for having children is also much lower than it was in the muggle world - and even than it was in the muggle world of the 1940s-1980s [all four of the women above fall pregnant before they're twenty-one, for example]; unmarried couples don't seem to live together, and there's clearly a social taboo against premarital sex [molly weasley gets a lot of flack from the fandom for making bill and fleur sleep in separate bedrooms, but nobody in the story regards this as prudish or old-fashioned]; divorce doesn't seem to be common [and blaise zabini's mother killing her husbands certainly takes on a new flavour if we assume that divorce is extremely difficult... or even illegal]; and married women - at least in the middle- and upper-classes - don't seem to work.
i also think that it's canonically plausible that arranged marriage, including between cousins, is a common cultural practice [sirius' comment in order of the phoenix about parents "letting" their children marry basically confirms this, i think] - which means we can also imagine, if we'd like, that there's perhaps little legal distinction between arranged and forced marriage.
obviously - obviously - i don't think that any of these are things the doylist text intended. the reason the story says very little about sex - both consensual and otherwise - or law or gender norms is because the harry potter series is a story about a boy-wizard who goes to a cool magic school and fights a good-versus-evil battle to the death which was written for children. i don't begrudge the publishers for not fancying a hundred pages on harry learning how to put on a condom...
[and the low marriage/childbearing ages genuinely seem to be because jkr is functionally innumerate and didn't realise how young she was suggesting everyone was...]
but from a watsonian perspective, they're really interesting - especially for the extremely disturbing paths they can lead us down as authors when we're trying to flesh out the worldbuilding of magical britain.
what - for example - is the wizarding age of consent? and how would this impact how wizards understand sexual maturity, adult-child power relations, and child abuse?
[after all, if the age of consent is unchanged from 1689... it could be as low as ten. which goes some way towards explaining why nobody thinks of tom riddle as grooming ginny...]
does the law consider it possible for a wizard to rape his wife? and if it doesn't, what does it think about him beating her?
what legal rights do sex workers have in the wizarding world?
is abortion legal? is contraception? is homosexuality? does gay sex have a higher age of consent?
is divorce legal? can women initiate a divorce? how are single mothers treated [and, therefore, what was lupin willing to do to tonks by walking out on her]? how are the children of unmarried parents treated? what property and inheritance rights do women have? are marriages performed by muggles - or dissolved by them - recognised by the wizarding state? what position does this put a witch [like eileen snape] who marries a muggle man in? would a wizard who marries a muggle woman and then abandons her be committing bigamy if he married a witch?
would wizards ever be punished for sexual offences against muggle women? does merope get away with attacking tom sr. in the eyes of the wizarding state because of her gender or because he's a muggle or both? could a muggle raped by a wizard even report the crime?
what modesty standards are there in terms of dress and behaviour? what would wizarding feminism look like? what is it like to be muggleborn [especially from the 1960s onwards] and enter this world?
i think i'm inclined to take the grimmest possible view of all of these questions, to be quite honest...
the wizarding world is fucked up.
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stevie-petey · 1 month ago
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heyy i know you prob need to write chap 3 (btw cjapter 2 wa sso well written as usual), can i req a blurb? maybe one where he cheers bug up after a bad day or some fluff of steve, bug n robin
since chap 4 was so ,,,, dark, heres some fluffy steve rob n bug <333
enjoy !
"im legally owed time with y/n."
"jesus!" steve nearly drops the stack of movies hes precariously balancing in his arms. he didnt hear robin come in, she isn't even supposed to be working today.
robin slides on top of the counter and stacks yet another movie onto steves already too large pile. "hey, did you hear me?"
"why are you here right now?"
"because im legally owed time with y/n."
"what does that even mean?"
"that im legally owed time with y/n."
steve nearly throws the movies hes holding in robins face. shes been here for not even a minute and he already wants to strangle her. he loves the girl, shes his best friend, but steve forgets how infuriating robin can be when she wants something.
angrily setting down the stack, steve pinches the bridge of his nose and faces robin. "alright, what the hell are you talking about?"
she stares at him. "i am owed. time with. y/n... legally."
"robin, i swear to god-"
"why are we swearing at robin?" you appear from the breakroom, carrying a few rentals in your arms. stopping next to steve, you hand them to him with a smile. "i found the rest of keiths stash. he has a very weird obsession with molly ringwald."
"y/n!" robin throws her arms over you and hugs you fiercely.
you squeak in alarm, though you allow your body to rest against hers. while youre always happy to see her, youre confused by robins sudden affection. "um. hi?"
"im legally owed time with you."
steve covers his hand with his hands and groans obnoxiously loud, but you simply laugh and nod eagerly at robin. "oh, i absolutely agree."
"you actually understand what shes saying?" steve looks at you incredulously. he cant believe it. youre actually going along with robins weird new scheme.
you roll your eyes at your boyfriend. "i mean, isnt it obvious?"
"yeah, harrington. its pretty clear, like crystal." robin butts in, shoving her hip against steves, effectively pushing him away from you so that shes the one now next to you.
"robin is legally owed time with me, so of course i have to abide by the law." you shiver slightly. "crime scares me."
it sickens steve how in love he is with you sometimes, and it sickens him even more that he finds you painfully adorable in this very moment. shuddering at the idea of crime, abiding by robins made up laws in a way that makes his heart twist.
"i'll be sure to never let you anywhere near crime then, angel." steve laughs fondly, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.
robin gags and you giggle. "thanks, honey. does that mean youll let me go spend some legally obligated time with robin today?"
"but-"
"you hog her all the time!" robin steps between you again and she glares at steve. "i mean, i get it. youre in love and whatever, but y/n is my girlfriend, too."
you blink. "i am?"
not that youre upset about it, but it wouldve been nice to know sooner.
"i had her first!" steve scoffs. "and i dont hog her, i simply am always with her. theres a difference."
robin flicks him. "is the difference the chemicals imbalance in your brain from all that stupid hairspray?"
"okay, i do not use that much hairspray-"
"what happened to not letting me anywhere near crime?" you poke steves chest, pouting slightly. admittedly, you have been slightly distant from robin lately. not that its anyones fault, shes just been busy with band and you with the party and college applications. still, you know she misses you, and you miss her. "im sure you can survive one day without me, steve."
"no i cant."
robin gags again. "youre pathetic."
"youre the one who insisting youre legally owed time with y/n!"
"because i am!"
"hey!" you clap your hands, the sound loud enough to break up whatever quarrel is happening between steve and robin. "im right here, you know."
robin grabs your hand and pulls you away from steve. "and now youre leaving with me."
"oh, alright." you dont do much to fight her, allowing her to drag you towards family videos front door. "i was going to go willingly, but this works too."
"y/n!" steve shouts halfheartedly. he knows hes lost, but he doesnt mind. secretly, he loves how close you and robin are. he also recognizes how little time youve spent together, and he cant help but feel a little guilty about it.
you wave briskly at him, giggling under your breath. "call me tonight?"
"always."
"i love you!"
steve laughs. "i love you, too." then, just before the door closes and you and robin disappear, he calls out, "bring our girlfriend back in one piece, buckley!"
"make me!"
and with that, the door swings shut and the sound of your laughter lingers in the store.
steve smiles softly, the warmth of your presence enough to ignite his chest. he'll miss you today, but he knows that tonight itll just be you and him. no one else.
and thats enough for steve.
until he turns around and remembers the giant fucking pile of movies he still has to restack.
"fuck my life."
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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago
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Hey love your work could you please do a Joel story where reader is virgin/ naive and they are on patrol or something similar. They get cold and Joel convinces/ tricks the reader to strip for warmth and starts touching her saying he just wants to keep her warm and she can keep him warm by using her mouth on him…. dubcon/noncon. Please? Thank you? ily?
Patrol
1.3k | CREEPY!Joel x naive virgin f!reader
joel master list
NSFW 18+ Dubcon/noncon nudity & sex acts: dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral sex; manipulation; idk what else to tag, but cannot stress enough what a creep he is or how naive reader is.
You’re relieved when Joel is your patrol partner.   You’re new to the job and he’s more than capable of protecting you if it comes down to it.  You’re posted at the top of a hill near a shack.  Joel has a sniper rifle set up, but in all the times he’s been posted there, nothing has ever happened.  Each of you has a blanket, but it’s not enough to stay warm.  Your ass is freezing against the cold ground.  
A bitter gust of wind hits, and Joel scoots over, wrapping you both in his blanket.  He smells like pine, whiskey, and dried sweat.  He rubs your arms, then starts to get behind you.  
“Come on now, don’t be shy,” he says.  “Can’t get warm keepin’ to yourself like that.” 
He persuades you between his legs, and you have to admit you’re much warmer that way.  Your ass especially benefits from the heat of his loins.  He offers you a swig of whiskey. You’re of legal age to drink, but you’ve never really done it.  He says it’ll help warm you up. He hooks his arm around you and holds the bottle up to your lips.  It tastes awful and burns your throat, but he’s right, you get a little warmer.  
You sit like that for a while.  He hugs you close and his pants harden against you, which makes you tingle between the legs.  You’re a little ashamed at how your body is reacting when he’s just being a nice guy, trying to keep you warm.  Joel looks at his watch.  
“We’ve got about an hour break now.  Why don’t we go up in the shack to get a little warmer.”  You didn’t know both people could break at the same time on a patrol.
-
Inside the shack, there’s a decrepit sofa facing a window in the same direction you’re supposed to patrol.  Without the wind, you’re already much less cold.  You sit down on the couch.  Joel suggests it’ll be better if you double up the blankets so you can both get under two layers.  Makes sense to you.  You snuggle up to him under both blankets.  
“Still cold?” he asks.  
“A little.” 
“Here, lemme show you somethin’.  Trust me for a second?”   
“Okay.”  He’s so capable and protective, of course you trust him.  
He takes off his jacket and lifts his shirt up a few inches.  Then, he lifts your shirt up, too, and your breath hitches.  You swallow and don’t say anything.  He pulls you up against him and his skin is so warm against yours, it feels like heaven. Your heart races.
“How’s that feel?”
“Warm,” you say.  It also stirs something in your core, but you don’t tell him that part.  
“That’s right.  That’s why people take their clothes off and get really close when they’re cold.” 
You don’t know what to say. You get a whiff of the whiskey on his breath.  
He continues, “Might sound like a silly idea, takin’ your clothes off when it’s cold, but you feel it workin’ already don’t ya?” 
“I guess so. . .” You’re embarrassed.  Something about this feels strange, but you also don't want to seem even less worldly than you are if it's something people really do.
“It’s alright now, darlin,” he says softly as he unbuckles his belt.  “We’ll just give it a try, see if it helps.” 
He smiles kindly and reaches over to help you unbutton your pants.  “Your core right here, that’s the warmest part of the body.  This and your mouth,” he says, running his hands over your stomach and the front of your pants.  “It’s like a furnace.”  He pats your zipper, then unzips it. Your cheeks burn.  “And your heart, here,” he pats your chest, “it’s important for heat, too.”  
A small nod is all you can muster.  “I’m just a little shy, to, uh-”
“Oh it’s okay darlin, it’s okay. I won't look.  You just come on back under here when you’re all set, okay?”
“Okay.”  You breathe a sigh of relief.    The room is cold as you hesitantly disrobe.
-
A minute later, you’re naked under the blanket except your bra and underwear.
“There ya go, darlin.” 
You settle in against his naked body, curled up shyly as a small spoon.  His arousal presses between your thighs.  His hand comes to your underwear.  “Whoops. Don’t forget, this is one of our furnaces.”  He starts to pull them down.  
“Want me to show you another trick real quick?” You don’t answer. 
“I can give you a real strong burst of heat.”  You freeze and say nothing as his hand slides into your panties.  Several fingers wedge between your thighs, engulf your whole front in a hug, massaging you in a circular motion.  Then, two fingers glide further, rubbing against your warm, wet folds.  He pulls down the back of your underwear and nestles his hard package in your crack, rolling it into you and breathing heavily as he massages your throbbing clit.  Tension coils in your core.  
You don’t know what to make of any of this.  You aren't stupid You aren't a child. It’s clearly turned into something sexual.  But he’s so nurturing and protective, you feel like he has the best intentions. 
His middle finger enters you and he whispers, “warmest part, right here,” then adds another finger with a sigh.  His hardness moves against your crack and he grunts softly.  Your hips slightly rock into his hand. “There ya go,” he says.  “You’ve got the right idea.”  He returns his fingers to your clit, trying different strokes, and when you softly moan, he stays with that one.  He pets you faster and faster until the tension bursts and your body jerks.  You’re not cold at all as your clit pulses, releasing the blood back into your body.  
He pulls your panties back up.  “It’s okay if you don’t wanna take these off,” he says.  You’re relieved.  His big, hard cock intimidates you.  It’s uncomfortably close to your holes.  “There’s another way you can get me warm.”   You gulp. 
“Here, turn over for a sec,” he says.  Your ears burn and you can hardly make eye contact as you face him.  He takes your hand and puts it on his hard cock.  
“Feel this?  Why don’t you wrap your warm little mouth around it, see if that helps me?” he asks.  You feel obligated since he made you come, even if you never wanted him to.  
“Um, okay.  I mean, i’ve never. . .”
“It’s okay, darlin’, it’s all about stayin’ warm.  Nothin fancy. You stay under the blankets too, okay?  Don’t let that heat out.”  
You get between his legs and take his stiff cock in your hand.  You’ve felt a few guys harden against you while making out, but you’ve never held a naked one.  It's smoother than you expect, and when he thrusts into your hand, the skin moves on the shaft.
You take him into your mouth and he moans softly.  “There ya go,” he says.  You seal your lips and suck like you think you’re supposed to, and he twitches in your mouth.  “You’re doin’ great, darlin’.”  
His hips begin to lift rhythmically, and you gag but keep your mouth sealed.  His hands come to your head, pushing you down, making your eyes water as you gag more.  You want it to be over as soon as possible, so you don’t complain.  You try to do a really good job.  Finally, he pulses inside you and his cum hits the back of your throat.  You choke a little, then swallow it down.  
“You alright?” He asks.  You don’t answer.  “C’mere, darlin.”  He opens his arms and you lie on top of him for a few minutes.  Then, he says the break time is over and it’s probably best to get back on the hill.  You're uncomfortable, but you remind yourself he'd probably save your life in a heartbeat, so it's a small price to pay.
-
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