#this is just an entire fic i am sorry

[piratekane]

7! Ava telling Bea that🫠🫠

seven: look at me. just breathe.

Ava looks small. She always has, despite feeling larger than life. But in a wide hospital bed with wires running from her body to the various beeping machines, she looks smaller than she did before she slipped through the Arc.

Before you sent her through it.

Beatrice stands at the edge of the doorway, wringing her hands as Jillian flutters around Ava with purposeful hands. Ava looks tired, but impossibly cheerful as Jillian puts another electrode pad on her exposed skin. She keeps stealing glances at the doorway, keeps ducking her head to meet Beatrice’s eyes, and always frowning a little when Beatrice gives nothing away. 

She’s afraid to step forward, afraid to meet Ava’s eyes. What if this is a dream? What if she’s fallen asleep and woken up in a dream world where everything has magically fallen into place? Ava escaping Reya’s realm the moment Beatrice crosses the threshold of Cat’s Cradle? It’s too… perfect. It slots together too neatly. 

She can’t cross the threshold because she might wake up in a hotel room somewhere - Cinque Terre, Faro, Lisbon - and this has all been a trick of the mind, a quiet torturous place her mind has found.

“Beatrice?”

Jillian touches her arm gently, trying not to startle her. Beatrice holds onto herself, a sharp inhale the only thing that gives her surprise away. But either Jillian doesn’t hear or she’s too kind to bring attention to it. She simply gives Beatrice a kind smile and slight tilt of her head. A quiet, she’s asking for you.

Beatrice searches for the part of her that’s always stood tall in the face of adversity. It wasn’t always there, grown out of a necessity, but it activates now as she takes that first step into the room on feet that feel steadier than her heart does. The live wire edge in her chest fizzles a little when she sees the way Ava’s face lights up as she moves closer and her hesitation simply vanishes.

Ava smiles wider. “Hi.”

Hi feels too small. Hey feels too informal. I’ve been thinking of you every minute of every day for the last nine months and you’re a ghost haunting all of my waking moments and sleeping ones too and I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life feels too big.

She settles for a quiet, “Hello.”

Ava’s nose wrinkles. “Hello,” she echoes, pitching her voice slightly deeper. A clumsy attempt at mimicking her accent. She blinks up at Beatrice expectantly. “Anything else?” she asks after a moment.

“You’re back.” Everything else she wants to say sticks in her throat.

“I am.” Ava tips her head curiously, keen eyes studying her. Beatrice wonders if she sees the new highlights in her hair, the added years Beatrice sees when she looks at herself in the mirror. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting a party, or anything. Maybe a banner or a cupcake. Though, I get that it was kind of an impromptu arrival and there wasn’t a lot of time to plan. I mean, it’s not like you guys have a ‘Welcome Back to Earth’ banner on hand, right?” She pauses again. “I was expecting more than hello, though.”

Restraint, Beatrice, her mother used to tell her. Show some restraint. When she spoke out of turn, became too excited - it was always whip-sharp eyes in her direction, reminding her to practice some self-discipline. Ava, on the other end of the long spectrum between what is expected and what isn’t, is the least restrained person Beatrice has ever met.

Beatrice, months separated from Ava’s influence, struggles to find a middle ground. 

“Seriously.” Ava laughs. She sounds nervous. “They didn’t, like, replace you with a pod person or anything, did they?” Her eyes widen. “Is this some kind of alternate reality where people are different? Are you really Beatrice? Or are you her evil twin? Is this world run by toads? I had a dream once where there was a toad king who demanded we all speak in ribbits. Or is it croaks? Hey, can you look up the sound toads make? I think I missed that science lesson.”

“Ava,” Beatrice breathes. Fond exasperation is easy to fall into.

Ava grins rakishly. “Ah, there she is.”

Beatrice opens her mouth to scold her, to tell Ava that she’s not as funny as she thinks she is, but she’s horrified when a single sob loosens from somewhere in the back of her throat and explodes into the space between them. 

They both look startled at the sound, but Ava recovers quicker than she does. She curses softly when she tries to move, wires tangling up around her wrists. She starts to try and move them out of her way, her legs swinging over the side of the bed as she starts to inch towards Beatrice. She looks up, forehead pulled together in frustration. “Hold- just hold on.”

Beatrice claps her hand down over her mouth, trying to stop the next horrible sound that comes out of it. She holds out her other hand, trying to tell Ava to stay back. No, no, no. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

Ava curses again, louder and in Portuguese this time, as another wire comes undone and loops its way around her arm instead. “I swear to fucking God and all her shitty decisions that if this thing doesn’t- Ha!” She wiggles out of one wire, then a second. She smiles triumphantly at Beatrice but that wrinkle in her forehead hasn’t faded away.

Something starts beeping as Ava disconnects the next wire. There’s a moment where they both stand, suspended as they wait for Ava to suddenly collapse onto the floor, that one wire the only thing keeping her up. But nothing comes and Ava must decide that it’s the all-clear; she starts pulling at wires until they disconnect, creating a cacophony of noise that feels like a mis-paced symphony.

“Hold on, hold on,” Ava is muttering as she pulls the last wire free. She’s suddenly in front of Beatrice, hands out in front of her carefully. “Hey, Bea.”

Beatrice’s eyes dart around the room. It’s starting to narrow to a pinprick, the lights spinning around. Ava is the only thing staying still, her focal part as the rest of the room rushes in on her. Another sob starts to build in her throat but it gets stuck there, forming into a hard knot that makes it hard to swallow around.

Breathe, she tells herself. Just take a breath.

“Look at me. Just breathe,” Ava says quietly. She takes a hesitant step forward. “I think- Bea, I think you’re having a panic attack.”

Beatrice tries to shake her head. She tries, but she’s not sure that she does. Her body feels far away, like she’s swimming underwater from one end of an endless pool to the other. The beeping of the machines distorts into a heartbeat, but that might just be the blood rushing in her ears. She tries to inhale and chokes on that knot.

“Okay, just follow my voice.” Ava sounds closer, but Beatrice can’t quite say how close she is. The room is starting to stretch out like a funhouse mirror. “Bea, uh, okay. Okay. I’m going to touch you. I know, you might freak out. But I’m going to put my hands on your hands, okay? Just like… just like this.”

She feels something cool and soft land on the wrist of her outstretched arm. It becomes a focal point. She focuses all of her energy there, all of her remaining senses rush to the spot where Ava’s fingertips curl around her pulse point.

Ava makes a noise that sounds like a hum just under the hot whistle of air in Beatrice’s ears. “Good. Now the other hand.”

Another cool hand touches hers, pulling it away from her mouth. She lets her world dial down to just the feather-light touch of Ava’s hand tangling with hers, lets herself focus in on the soft pads of Ava’s fingers running over the silvery scars on her hands. Each brush against her knuckle breaks down the knot in her throat until she can take in a ragged breath, then another, then one more.

The world begins to expand again - light filtering back in, the beeping stretching out into its asynchronous rhythm, the slightly sterile smell of clean cotton on the hospital bed. She focuses all of her attention on Ava, though. On the soft soothing noises Ava is making, the heat coming off her body as she gets closer, the strange patterns Ava is rubbing into her wrist.

“Hey,” Ava says quietly in the spaces between the beeping. “Hey, there you are.”

“I’m sorry,” she croaks, graceless.

Ava’s eyes are wide, but kind as they come into focus. Beatrice could count the inches between them on two hands. “You don’t need to apologize. I don’t think either of us expected this.”

“I should have.” She inhales again, the exhale a little steadier. “I should have been expecting this.”

“Beatrice, I mean this in the nicest way.” Ava ducks her head just a little, meeting her gaze directly. “This is a compliment, okay? You are not perfect. You cannot anticipate everything. And you shouldn’t be expected to do that. So it’s okay, alright? It’s okay that you didn’t anticipate some scientific marvel spitting me back into reality. I think I can forgive you for that, hmm?”

“Okay,” she whispers, not believing it entirely. But Ava looks so convincing, she lets the idea sit and tries to believe it could be true. “I’m-”

“Don’t apologize,” Ava says quickly. “This is a no-sorry party. Apologies department is closed for… the rest of eternity. No need to leave a message.” She strokes her thumb against the back of Beatrice’s hand before her eyes widen in mock-surprise. “Maybe this is an alternate reality where I’m not funny anymore.”

“Your jokes were always mediocre at best,” she manages.

Ava grins. “She speaks. And she lies.” Ava’s expression softens and she pulls until Beatrice can count the inches on one hand now. They’re nearly nose to nose and Beatrice can see the thin skin over Ava’s collarbone, just a little more pronounced this close up. “You’re okay.”

Beatrice takes in a slow, measured breath. “You’re here,” she exhales.

“All 238 bones of me.” Ava’s mouth falls into a serious line. “I’m including teeth, of course.”

She can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from her unexpectedly. Get control of yourself, her mother’s voice hisses. But Ava is looking at her, pleased. It sends her mother to the back of her head, back behind Ava’s smile.

“You had your wisdom teeth removed,” she reminds Ava gently.

Ava’s mouth falls open slightly. “How did you-” Her eyes narrow, but she’s smiling. “No stone unturned for you people, hmm? I bet Sister Frances kept those teeth, too. You know, Diego and I always thought she had some kind of creepy collection of, like, teeth and hair. She seemed the type.” Her fingers start working over Bea’s hands and up towards her elbows as she carefully starts to guide them around her back.

“Ava,” Beatrice tries.

“I don’t know about you,” Ava says quietly. “I don’t know how long it’s been since-”

“Too long,” Beatrice breathes. Eight months, twenty-three days, and somewhere around three hours, she doesn’t say out loud.

“But it’s been even longer for me,” Ava finishes. “And, I’ll be honest, okay? I really missed Mother Superion and Camila and, yeah, okay, parts of Lilith. But you were the only thing that kept me going. So I’m going to hug you and you’re going to hug me and then I’m going to pass out, if that’s okay with you?”

Beatrice startles a little, their forehead nearly knocking as she grabs Ava tightly and holds her against her body. Ava seems to sigh into the hug, her forehead dropping into the curve of Beatrice’s neck, her hands gripping the back of Beatrice’s shirt tight enough to crease the carefully ironed fabric. She grows heavy nearly instantly and Beatrice almost sways under the sudden weight.

“I’m-”

“Shut up,” Ava murmurs. Beatrice feels the words more than she hears them. “Just, be quiet, okay? I’ve been imagining this for years.”

Years, she thinks. But she goes quiet again, pressing her lips to Ava’s hair. She breathes in something bleach-like, like the ozone burning. She carefully inches forward, Ava’s abandoned bed her destination. She can hear her heart beating against her rib cage, but Ava’s own heart seems to be answering in its own language.

She starts to loosen her grip on Ava, intending to convince her that she should lay back down, let Beatrice reattach all of the wires monitoring her vitals, let Beatrice go and find Jillian to make sure they didn’t mess everything up. But when she goes to loosen her grip, Ava hangs on.

“Don’t,” Ava whispers. “Don’t let go yet.”

Beatrice holds on tighter; doesn’t tell Ava she has no intention of ever letting go again.

#warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #tw: panic attack #this is just an entire fic i am sorry #beatrice needs a break okay? #i might use this again in a larger fic tbh because it immediately gave me a hundred ideas #but hey it's my writing so i can do what i want #*said in my 7-year-old's voice* #anyway writing this was a lot out of me #i hope if you read it you enjoy it

[theonewhowails]

silly stuff i drew while reading Feel No Evil by @payasita , in which the Lamb does not know how to propose, Narinder does not know how to be alive, and neither of them knows what an obligate carnivore is

bonus? lmao

#my art #cotl #i am looking into your soul with my huge autistic eyes. read this fic right now. blease #hksfdjghdfghldkfg im sorry it just fucking kills me that for the first 4ish chapters narinder is just. so nasty #like all the followers are like There He Is. The Leader's Favorite Guy. and its this filthy half-dead cat that hasnt bathed in 10+ years #like he has hardly eaten the entire time he's been mortal and he looks like absolute dogshit #and their unbeatable normally serene and gracious leadergod is hovering around his stinky ass like omg nari hiiiiii #its fucking hilarious to me. and also heartwrenching bc this fic does also get into how hard it is to be alive when uve never learned how #gonna draw the twins desperately bringing him soap later i just had so many things i wanted to draw for this

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

#genshin impact #genshin impact yandere #genshin yandere #neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #arlecchino x reader #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #furina x reader #yandere furina #yandere furina x reader #fic tag #pats neuvillette this noodle dragon can be so pathetic #aiming for pathetic desperate and slightly guilty. it gnaws at him knowing he's keeping you like a bird in a cage #esp if you react extremely negatively hes like a kicked puppy #not outwardly but internally hes a MESS. sobbing crying wailing #furina and neuvi sopping wet kittens u found in a cardboard box in an alley #vs arle thinking abt all the crimes shes going 2 commit in the process w/o an ounce of guilt. blackmail? check. kidnapping? check. #a little murder for flavor. as u can see im coping horribly w being practically snowed in rn i need 2 be put down #its like 4 degrees out rn (fahrenheit) and getting colder ueueueue i am dying.......... #only thing keeping me going is my furinameow plushie coming. eventually. staying strong just for her................. #also needs 2 be mentioned all the stories r separate ksjfkhdsf #no not everyone in fontaine is yan and trying 2 kidnap sorry for getting ur hopes up.. #yet #anyway u cant convince me arle isn't bribing (or just straight up forcing) her agents into doing stupid shit so she can “save” you #and make you owe her #two silly goofy little creatures vs the personification of gaslight gatekeep girlboss (heavy on the gaslight) #also split this up in 3 parts bc. lol. lmao. im not writing 9 characters at once goodbye #also all the masks do actually have significance i have an entire essay on why i gave each animal to specific characters okay

[arkiwii]

For me part of it is that I've been playing since global launch, and rhine fam was part of what got me playing, and I've never seen anyone take the divorced jokes seriously even since then (in contrast to doc and kal, where like 80+% were taking it seriously for years)

you can only trust me for word because I don't want to call out anyone, but I have seen fanfictions or art pieces that seriously despicted them divorced (there's some on ao3). and if they're not divorced, they're at least exes. it's a very common headcanon, and I mean it. not saying people really believe it's canon, but at least, they want to imagine it is. as a heads up, it's not wrong, people think whatever they want! I was just bringing the point that it gave a less interesting side to her relationship to make them into bitter exes, imo. it makes it look like "Silence is mad at Saria because Saria betrayed her, and now she's acting really awful towards her, which Saria simply accepts". that's a simplification of their relationship. it's not necessarily wrong, but it's not the real message.

Silence doesn't hate Saria. she can't help being mad at her because she's mad at herself. when she looks at Saria, she sees someone who failed to protect them, and most than all, she realized that she was putting her hopes unti Saria. she's mad at herself because she is weak, because she was depending on anyone stronger than her to do the right things, and had expectations for them. she realized that Saria is just a person, so is everyone, and if she wants to achieve something, she has to do it herself.

as for Saria, she's not just accepting Silence's hate. she thinks that she deserves it, that she really failed. she's the shield If Rhine Lab, she promised that she would protect anyone, and she failed. because she pushed herself to carry this burden, because she unconsciously doesn't trust that the people she's protecting can protect themselves. Silence, Ifrit, they don't need Saria to fight for them. they need her to fight with them.

what really makes them really interesting to me is that it's when they finally open up and show their true selves, they realize that they can work together and that their flaws perfectly complete each other. Silence does not fall in love with Saria the director of Rhine Lab who is strong and hot and perfect looking, but with Saria who is a broken person who needs to love herself and be shown that she can be loved. Saria does not fall in love with Silence the weak and innocent girl who relies on her, but with Silence the woman who learned to fight for her ideals, and who saw the pain inflicted to those close to her, promising herself to never let it happen.

OK I WENT RANTY IN THERE BUT tl;dr in my personal opinion, bringing a romance in their time before Lone Trail doesn't change anything to her development, and it can be very well handled, I'm sure, but all the cases I have seen are just an excuse for spicy exes stuff "I loved you but you betrayed me" and turn their relationship into just "lovers who are still in love but misunderstanding happened", y'know

#once again I know what I am talking about I probably have read all the fics possible with them #the real spice about them is not that they were in love #its that they did not know each other #ANYWAY hum yeah #sorry about the rant tho #I feel like I'm complaining too much #once again not an issue if you headcanon this it's just something I think is very easy and not very interesting #Don't Turn Their Entire Development Into Romance #arknights #askiwi

[foggieststars]

i was tagged by dearest @cogmatized to post some lines from my most recent wip!! i'll tag @girlnebulae @maaxverstappen @drivestraight @liamlawsonlesbian & @lovelylotusf1 - ik everybody's probably done it a million times so feel free 2 ignore me <3

The Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post and share one or two sentences (or lines for artists) from your most recent unposted WIP with zero context.

welcome to the lestappen winner's room wip i've been working on for approximately five hundred years...i am sharing more than 1 or 2 sentences

-

Max doesn’t mean for it to become a thing. 

The winner’s room is one of those old-fashioned, outdated traditions that are essentially ubiquitous in F1. A holdover from a bygone era.

When Max wins his first race, Helmut claps him on the shoulder and asks him to choose Daniel. An extra point for each of them, if he chooses his teammate. And so Max does. 

He chooses Daniel for each of his next four wins. Daniel always chooses him, too. It’s all about points maximisation. They mostly just fuck around on their phones, talk through the race. Shout at each other, if they need to. 

But then Daniel leaves. He goes to Renault, abandons Max. 

When Max gets his first win in 2019, he doesn’t know what to do. He really, really doesn’t want to choose Pierre, not with how things are looking regarding his seat. And he sure as fuck can’t choose Daniel. 

So instead Max does something truly insane. 

He asks for Charles.

Max knows he's pissed Charles off. Stolen his first victory right out from under his nose. Charles hadn’t even stuck around to celebrate, just stormed off the podium the second the anthems finished playing. He thinks maybe he and Charles could use the winner's room the same way Max and Daniel had, for a while. As a space to work through your frustrations, to yell at each other without anybody overhearing. 

Max has known Charles for a long time. He’s got a temper, sure - but he’s steady, dependable. Above all, he understands what it means to race hard. If they just get a chance to talk it through, Charles will see reason. 

And maybe - maybe it’s more than that, too. Maybe it has something to do with the way Charles has always made Max a little bit nervous. Maybe he thinks it will be a chance for them to talk, really talk, like they’ve never seemed to be able to, without all the badness and the fucked up history that hangs over them every time they speak.

Except, that doesn’t happen. Charles stalks into the room, drops to his knees, and delivers the angriest blowjob Max has ever had in his life. He lets Max finish in his mouth and then spits it back onto the fabric of Max’s fireproofs. When he looks up at Max from between his legs, his eyes are so full of fury that it knocks the air from Max’s lungs.

Charles leaves the room without saying a word, leaving Max drained and shell-shocked on the sofa. 

Charles clinches that extra point. 

Max doesn’t. He hadn’t chosen his teammate.

#my fic #sorry for posting an entire scene i just....... am fond of this wip

[thatonegayship]

I loved the cowboy comic so much that I wrote a oneshot for it. https://archiveofourown.org/works/50934235 🥺 your art is BEYOND amazing, ty for the food

INCREDIBLE!!!!!

#billdip #I honestly loved this story start to finish with the ambience and quick pace #hadn't considered the possibility of Bill and Dipper actually working *together* but it's always a good time when they do ❤️ #sorry it took so long to reblog 🥲 #I read it like- Right when you posted. But I had to catch a plane and then drive an extra hour home and immediately get on zoom for class #and today i was just all around exhausted so i slept roughly 70% of the entire day dndsjdndnd #all that to say that I had your fic in the back of my mind and I very much wanted to set some time aside and re-read it when I got the chan #honestly with how well you set things up I would've loved to see your own rendition of their first kiss #You established their relationship really well at the start and brought them together by the end after outsmsrtong those bandits #it feels like you have a better understanding of who they are to each other than even i do 😌 very much a fan #i love when stories incorporate those sort of 'habits' that the love interests fall into #that confuses character A while character B is so clearly using it as an excuse to get close and spend more time with them #i squealed like a maniac when Bill was like oooph lemme walk you home 😏🤠 #sir i am going to wrangle you up if you don't compose yourself #and Dipper's just wary of him because people as handsome as bill used to pick on him 😢 #little does he know he's grown into a 10/10 cutie patootie that any cowboy would be stupid NOT to smooch #I'm a simple man. I read oblivious low-confidence cowboy being pursued by a hottie on a horse. I lose my shit #Awesome wonderful writing!!! so happy to have caught your eye and i hope to continue pumping out content for this wonderfully weird ship

[angelpuns]

Hello Angel, I wanted to apologize sincerely. I didn't know that doing what I'm doing was really rude and annoying. The person I send the fan story (kid Leo au) accidentally had already reached to me (I had forgot to do it anonymous) and "explained" me that what I'm doing is so inappropriate and I'm just doing it for the likes in other people's blogs and using their own content instead of being original and do my own, and also told me to not do it ever again. That you are only being nice because you didn't had how to reached out to me in private to talk about it. I just summarized all the things said.

I am really sorry, I didn't thought it was that bad. And I want to thank you for being a really nice person. I also thank the other person for letting me know about it. Once again I apologize 😔

-🌸

Sorry this took so long for me to respond to, I had to sit back and think a lot because hearing that someone said that to you actually made me so mad-

I LOVE READING THE STORY, LET ME SAY THAT FIRST, I GENUINELY ENJOY IT SO MUCH AND I GET SO SO SO EXCITED WHEN YOU SEND ME ASKS CAUSE IT'S SO SO SO FUN TO READ-

I personally LOVE when people send me asks like that, and I think it was a real shitty thing for them to say that to you. I understand why some people may not like it for their own content, but I enjoy it a lot.

You are not being rude at all to me, I promise. I genuinely enjoy reading your fan stories so much!

I'll be honest, I am not a nice person. If I didn't like it or didn't want people to do this sort of thing, I would have never answered your asks. When I get asks I don't like/don't want to answer I delete them (which tbh I don't think is me being an asshole I think it's my right-)

I promise it's not just me being nice, I am not that sort of person lmao-

SORRY IF THIS IS ALL SUCH A CONFUSING RESPONSE I AM JUST GETTING VERY MAD ON YOUR BEHALF BECAUSE EWIJRGIJFREJI I LOVE READING YOUR FAN STORIES AND YOU HAVE NOTHING TO APOLOGIZE FOR!!!

aLSO ANOTHER THING BUT THE FACT THAT IT'S FOR THE SPINOFF COMIC MAKES ME SO SO SO HJAPPY BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE A TON OF IDEAS FOR THE SPINOFF AND SEEING THAT I INSPIRED SOMEONE TO WRITE ABOUT IT IS SO FLATTERING AND AMAZING AND MAKES ME SAPPY FEEL GOOD

if the person that said that is reading this, they are in fact an asshole. And it really isn't any of their damn business <33333

TLDR: I DON'T THINK IT'S RUDE AT ALL IT'S ACTUALLY SO SO SO NICE TO GET YOUR FAN STORIES AND THIS PERSON IS AN ASSHOLE FOR TELLING YOU OFF

again sorry if this is very very rambly or whatever I just got like actually so pissed off on flower-anon's behalf while thinking about this-

#also i promise if it takes me a long ime to answer asks #I haven't deleted them #i usually just have some drawing or am thinking about them or am just oo overwhelmed to answer #I've only deleted one or two asks the entire time i've been on tumblr LMAO #just as a PSA for other people who also are waiting on asks #ALSO #if someone has their own fan content that they don't want people writing fics about #that's not my problem #cause this isn't about them <3 #sorry if that's controversial or whatever but I literally love it and appreciate it #i appreciate all of you #sorry the tags are just as long as the post #my b #asks #i love you flower anon <333

[starstruckodysseys]

okay. so. i genuinely can’t remember which of the mallapalooza kids went to miami university, which is inexplicably in ohio and NOT florida where miami actually is (it’s a county in ohio apparently but this isn’t about that).

anyway. the icc teams seem to be centered in the midwest, which for the sake of this au we’re going to say ohio is part of (it might actually be part of it. im from the pnw i have no idea). for the sake of this au we are also going to say vanessa is the one who went to miami u.

she’s a stressed out med student, of course, but she needs a way to relax and chill out for a sec, so she joins her college’s cornhole team - kind of a strange thing to have, but she’s always been kind of a nerd so whatever. at an interstate competition, she meets a boy with a glint in his eyes, who rambles on and on about another boy she assumes is his teammate until he mentions he’s from an entirely different state. he reminds her of brittany, and when she mentions it to him she hesitates on the word friend, and he picks up on it immediately.

he introduces himself as bryce. they exchange numbers, because they’re kind of in the same situation, as it stands, and they both think the other is pretty cool. this leads to a lot of sleepless nights and screaming over phone calls.

team kansas doesn’t make it to the icc that year, but bryce invites vanessa to watch the tournament anyway, tells her with an audible wink to invite brittany. she does, not without a large amount of complaining.

she pushes him forward when clark confesses his love on live tv. he considers shoving her in a closet, later, but he figures it all worked out pretty well for him and decides against it. especially once he notices her and brittany finally holding hands.

#sorry i am eventually going to write an actual fic and not just a weirdly specific outline #it might be this! even though i just wrote out the entire plot! #the timeline in this does not make sense At All but shh. play with me in this space #i think i have to write this now i kind of love it #play it by ear #reese’s pieces #pibe fanfic

[padfootastic]

Ahaha thank you for the nice comments in tags <3 i love Remus but he seems bit like a spineless people pleaser and after dating somebody who would rather lie about their feelings than have people be mildly upset with them..... I chose violence 🗡

no but ur so right because!!! i’ve been sleeping on this for a while but let’s talk about remus’ personality traits and how they have the potential to make him a bad/absent partner, at best, and an abusive one, at worst. everyone wants to turn him into this image of perfection just bc he’s such an ‘uwu victim’ figure in fanon but that’s SO far from the truth omg

(i am…just gonna put this remus character analysis under a cut bc it got unnecessarily long and i wouldn’t want u to read it if u didn’t want to lol)

so, for one, he’s manipulative. he has no combinations in twisting the truth or dodging it entirely for his own benefit. like, the man could stand in front of his dead best friend’s orphaned son & not even allude to the fact that he knew his dad. he had no problem bringing james & lily up in the most twisted ways possible to guilt/emotionally influence harry. so remus in a relationship would have the capacity to either knowingly or unknowingly manipulate his partner. the definition of gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss except more sinister.

next, his spinelessness. either as a defensive measure to deal w anti-werewolf hostility or as an innate personality trait, remus has the habit of just—not standing up for things. he looks away when his friends act like assholes, even when he’s in a position of authority (which yes, u can argue that he’s afraid of losing them but atp they’ve literally risked life & magic & azkaban for him so either way, he comes off badly—either he doesn’t mind himself, or he doesn’t fully trust their friendship, or it’s just easier to look away). in a relationship, this can manifest as bottling everything inside u until it makes u bitter or u violently unload on the other person in an entirely disproportionate manner. the dynamic would also be a bit skewed. the people pleasing u mentioned is also such a big thing that people usually overlook. when ur constantly trying to make the other person happy and don’t want to rock the boat, that is a cocktail for miscommunication and breakdown of relationships. ur also constantly putting the emotional burden of constructively dealing w issues on ur partner instead of doing it urself.

connected to his cowardice is his habit of running away when things get tough. remus is conflict avoidant; he does not like to put himself in a position where he has to take a decisive stance, especially if it’s against what others around him believe in. he runs away when things get tough, and tbh, for me, this comes from a constant spiral of self hatred & self victimisation, both of which stem from his experience as a werewolf. in every difficult situation, he centres himself & his discomfort and instead of dealing with it and moving forward for a constructive solution, he decides that stepping back from it altogether is better. which, yeah, works well for him bc he can temporarily put a pin in it but it’s kinda terrible for everyone’s who’s left behind. so i also think that remus is a profoundly selfish character who doesn’t look beyond the end of his own nose. u can imagine how those traits might manifest themselves in a relationship.

and his people pleasing!! so this might be verging on fanon but his gratitude and/or devotion to dumbledore sets an…interesting tone. it’s also another example of how he cannot conceive himself in any other term except as a victimised werewolf. the marauders did a lot for him, arguably even more than dumbledore’s token representation formula, but he never felt indebted to them the way he did for D. dumbledore also kind of makes him feel needed? validates his feelings? and that just speaks to a very twisted sense of self for me. which, again, won’t bode well for his other interpersonal relations.

also, on a very hc note, i also feel like remus just…does not have any significant capacity to love. he takes and takes and takes but doesn’t give much in return. this doesn’t even have to be an actively malicious decision, tbh, just a very self-centred one. he doesn’t realise how much he’s taking bc he’s only thinking about his own circumstances.

all of these are also just why i can’t see r/s working out in any healthy manner. remus is exactly antithetical to everything sirius is/believes in, and not even in the fun ‘opposites attract’ way. but that’s another rant no one asked for lmao

#anti remus lupin #just to be safe lol #(i would not want to read sumn like this for j or s) #i read this harry/tonks postwar fic once #that had part r/s allusions #and it was basically about how terrible remus was as a dad & husband bc he kept running out to deal w his demons #not realising or caring ab who he’s leaving behind #and constantly kept making false promises and centering only his own grief #and harry steps up to take care of teddy and tonks #the romance is cool and all but it’s the characterisation of remus that really struck me. bc it was so new. even tho it’s basically #an extension of canon ykwim? #and i think we should talk about that more instead of turning him into a paragon of virtue and morality and parenthood #dude tumblr just ate my ENTIRE answer for a who monite and i was so ??? fully ready to give up i s2g lol #i also have so many thoughts of remus victimising himself #and consequently spitting on everything his friends and family did for him #bc those are destructive thinking patterns and no one except the person themself can take the first step #regardless of how much support they get #and remus just. never wanted to get out of it lbr #i am so sorry for this rant—u didn’t ask for it but ur fic LIT something in me #and i just. couldn’t stop once i started 😭😭 #pen’s asks #pen’s notes

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

the father [solar lunacy] the son [you move to dayshift but aren't paid any more, go figure] and the holy spirit [i see you, sundrop!]

#random thoughts #fnaf #solar lunacy because it's what people think of when they think about iconic sun and moon fics (and for good reason) #(bamsara is a master at subtext and creating little scenes that all build up to a beautiful picture) #dayshift go figure because god. the corporate bullshit. the domestic bullshit. THE VIRUS BULLSHIT. #and also because it features my all-time favorite original character (drumroll please) #dundundundundun RILEY GREENE OF I SEE YOU SUNDROP FAME #god what didn't i see you sundrop do right. the characterization. the slow build up of dread throughout the entire fic. riley greene. #IT IS 106 CHAPTERS NOT INCLUDING A POSSIBLE FUTURE EPILOGUE #god sorry to the other two fics on my list but reading i see you sundrop broke my brain a little #the scenes with riley's mother. THE SCENES WITH RILEY'S MOTHER OH MY GOD #you can tell a fic is good when it gets you to give a shit about an oc that hard #their CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT??? WHICH IN TURN FED DIRECTLY INTO WILLIAM AFTON'S DEMISE????? #I AM DEAD. I AM DECEASED. #im rereading solar lunacy rn if you can't tell lol i went on a spree #fucking love the concept of sun not being completely isolated from moon and his illness god fuck #solar lunacy 🤝 i see you sundrop: we're gonna have some wild fucking takes on moon's illness in relation to sun #me: oh god thank god some good fucking food #and OBIWAN??? OF DAYSHIFT GO FIGURE FAME??? #best oc side character i think. i want to see him and sun just go at it for an hour shooting the shit #don't really have much else to say on dayshift go figure right now cuz its on SUCH a cliffhanger #that's kind of taking over my mind rn idkwettl #i could go on for hours about i see you sundrop though. that fic grabbed me by the throat and threw me down the stairs #binged that shit in two days #sun mentions having a crush on riley once and it's never mentioned again and that kind of fucks actually #the other two are romance fic and they're REALLY GOOD AT IT OH MY GOD #solar lunacy. just in general. makes me blush so hard it's not funny #OH SPEAKING OF BLUSHING #THE MC IN DAYSHIFT GO FIGURE KEEPS GETTING FLUSTERED IT'S SO CUTE #dayshift go figure is more of a typical 'i am in love and refuse to acknowledge it' fic it's so adorable

[allylikethecat]

January OTP Prompts

Heyyy look at me go! Day 5 🎉

5. Shooting star

Matty shivered, turning his body closer to George, tucking himself closer against his side, trying to steal as much of his body heat as he could. They were laying in the bed of a rented pick up truck, in a nest of blankets and pillows stolen from their hotel room, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore peacefully. Matty would have enjoyed it more if he wasn’t absolutely freezing. But he appreciated the effort that George had put into it, wanting to plan a date for them that was different and special, especially knowing how much Matty disliked spending time in California. 

George chuckled, and sat up, causing Matty to whine in annoyance, if it was anyone but George who had heard it he would have been embarrassed by the high pitched hum he had emitted. 

“I’m getting you another blanket, hush,” said George, running his hand over Matty’s blanket covered thigh. He pulled the blanket that was at their feet over their bodies and Matty smiled, repositioning himself against George’s side once again, pleased now that there were two blankets covering his shivering form. 

He hadn’t realized that California got cold, in his mind it was perpetually blue skies and sunny. It was sweat dripping down his back, causing his tee shirt to stick uncomfortably to his skin. Instead he found himself wearing George’s sweatshirt over his own long sleeve tee shirt, and track pants, while he wished he had worn warm socks instead of the cool ones with the cartoon frogs on them that George had given him as a joke for his birthday last year, as if George would only gift him socks. He was cold, and George had snapped at him to stop when he had tried to shove his frozen fingers under the hem of George’s sweater, hoping to warm them against the heat of the soft skin of his flank. 

“We can head back if you’re really that miserable,” said George, smoothing out the blanket, guilt heavy in his voice, his words vibrating against where Matty was pressed against his chest.

Matty bit his lip, his own guilt blooming in his chest. “No, no this is lovely, I’m just cold, but I’m sure I’ll warm up in a moment.” 

He didn’t want to meet George’s eye, he didn’t want him to see that he was lying through his chattering teeth. He appreciated the thought behind George setting up a romantic evening of stargazing. He just wished George had thought of it in July or August, not March. He turned his gaze back to the dark inky sky, littered with little speckles of light, the stars. Matty wasn’t sure where they were, just that they had driven far enough out to avoid the light pollution of the city. 

His eyes widened, “George,” he said, tapping George’s chest as if George was capable of ignoring him when they were pressed together like this, “George, look! It’s a shooting star! George! Look! Make a wish!” 

Matty squeezed his eyes shut, and made his wish while George chuckled. 

“Matty, love, that was an airplane.” 

Matty opened his eyes, and frowned. “Does that mean my wish isn’t going to come true?” 

“Depends,” asked George, still laughing to himself as he shifted Matty off of his body to dig the truck keys out of his pocket, “did you wish to go back to the hotel?” 

Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

#allylikethecat #January OTP Prompts #Prompt fills #prompt fill #fanfiction #fanfic #matty fic #gatty #keep it kind #sorry not sorry for the cali slander #i too hate california #even though i will be going there (again) in February lol #im sure i'll have a lovely time #just not my vibe #also why yes i was humming airplanes by bob and hayley williams to myself the entire time i was writing this #because i am in fact old #and am now feeling ancient because i looked it up on spotify and it came out in 2010 #which was in fact 14 years ago #not 4

[mutalune]

me when people hate on aos trek:

#starlight fandom #starlight trek #LOOK I KNOW THEY AREN’T GOOD MOVIES THEY WERE IF MARVEL HIT STAR TREK WITH A BASEBALL BAT BEHIND A CLUB #BUT AOS GOT ME INTO STAR TREK IN THE FIRST PLACE OKAY IT HAS A PLACE IN MY HEART FOREVER #AND IT’S NOT AOS!JIM’S FAULT THAT THEY WROTE HIM BAD I ACTUALLY THINK ITS REAL INTERESTING #TO SEE A VERSION OF JIM KIRK THAT’S TRAUMATIZED AND FUCKED UP AND DIDN’T HAVE A FATHER AND YET HE STILL ENDS UP COMPASSIONATE #HE STILL ENDS UP A LEADER AND KIND #like fr tho that’s a fascinating concept #how much things may be different and how Spock!prime broke the timeline by melding with aos!kirk #and Kirk still ends up kind and loving and beloved anyway!!!!! #like I’m sorry they didn’t execute well until beyond and honestly I ignore stid entirely but it’s such a cool concept to me #and Karl urban as bones was so. SO. SO GOOD. he was perfect and deranged in the best way #Quinto-Spock I can take or leave but I do love me a bitchy Vulcan and he did have that #it’s okay to not like aos I don’t blame anyone for not liking it but I am so fond of it folks I truly am #and I’m not just saying that b/c the fic I’m writing rn for comfort and therapy reasons is projecting my current issues on aos!kirk #he’s just really to project onto and he looks like he’d benefit from ketamine treatment too and learning how to have hobbies w/o stress #anyway like I said I don’t blame anyone for disliking it or erasing it from their fandom memory #but it got me into Star Trek and I’m grateful and if ppl weren’t cowards aos!kirk would be so fucking fascinating in a feral way

[cadavercowboy]

Business As Usual

Pairing: Stepfather!Nick Fowler x Reader

Summary: If you go looking for attention, Nick is going to give it to you...but it’ll be on his terms.

Word Count: 8.2k+

Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only). It’s utterly OOC because this was just an excuse for me to write porn. Stepfather/daughter relationship (it’s ‘I Have Severe Daddy Issues’ o’clock!). Cheating. Manipulation. Implied gaslighting. Dub-con elements. Degradation/humiliation. Hand kink? Spit kink. Choking. Oral sex. Vaginal penetration. Over-stimulation. Face slapping. Forced orgasm. Multiple orgasms. Forced creampie. Nick is an asshole.

A/N: A lot of this is Zee’s fault. It’s somehow always Zee’s fault. I’m also placing full blame on this, the first of the many phases of the 2022 DILF-ication of our boy. He’s giving Dad™ and I’m giving up!

Excitement and nervousness tangle ferociously in the gaping pit that has opened deep in your belly as the sound of the front door shutting echoes through the house. Your mother is off to run some errands, thus leaving you with only the company of your haughty and moody stepfather, Nick. Though you’ve been waiting for what feels like weeks for this exact circumstance, now that the fantasy has become a reality, you have to admit you’re beginning to feel quite intimidated. 

A recent interaction with the formidable man has left you with an uncharacteristic confidence and an unshakable, stubborn determination to win his affections. At first, you’d doubted your own perception of the events and convinced yourself that you’re slightly delusional. But in the following days — given the heated, tense looks and the subtle touches — you could doubt it no longer: Nick was flirting with you. The idea that he had shown an interest in you lit a fire within you and you’re powerless to deny the desire you feel to garner his attention again. 

You wring your hands in your lap before launching to your feet and pacing restlessly through your bedroom. What if Nick is downstairs, fully aware that you’re practically crawling out of your skin trying to muster the courage to go get what you want from him? No, you’re just overthinking this. There’s no way he knows what you’re planning. Right?

Downstairs, Nick drags a firm hand through his short hair and sighs in annoyance. The constant thumping of your feet overhead is driving him crazy. For 20 minutes he’s listened to you track back and forth, back and forth. He wonders if you plan to stop anytime soon or whether you’re going to carry on until you wear a hole right through the floorboards. He tosses his head back with a grunt, trying to refrain from storming up there to scold you for being such a distraction to his work. 

Your fists clench and release at your sides, the muscles bunching with agitation as you mentally build the fortitude to overcome your apprehension. If you wait any longer, any bravery you’ve amassed is going to ooze and seep from your pores, disappearing as quickly as it came. With a sharp inhale, you check your appearance in the mirror and stride to the door. As swiftly as you move, you make sure to do so without making a sound; tiptoeing down the staircase, you keep in mind how much Nick hates it when you’re too loud. The house is silent and empty, not a single noise to indicate Nick’s location, although you know precisely where you’ll find him.

Even on his days off, Nick spends pretty much all of his time in his office. Being a federal agent is a demanding job to be sure, but Nick takes his job more seriously than most and there’s practically never a moment when he isn’t working. Still bearing in mind Nick’s intolerance for interruption, it takes a minute for you to work up the nerve to rap your knuckles against the door. You remind yourself yet again that you’re being ridiculous. You’re his stepdaughter, surely he won’t be upset with you for wanting to speak with him. At least you hope so.

The moment your knock reverberates off the heavy wooden door, Nick's velvety voice calls out to you and immediately grants you permission to enter. Anxiety grips you once again and you find yourself questioning your own sanity. Maybe you had misread the signs. This is wrong on several levels for many reasons and if you end up having in fact misjudged Nick’s intentions, you’re going to suffer an embarrassment you may never recover from. You shake your head as if to dispel the very thought, then take a deep breath before you twist the knob and ease the door open with a long, low creak.

Inside, you find Nick facing the tall windows behind his desk with his broad back turned towards you. Although he’d been working, you’re surprised to find Nick without his customary crisp dress shirt and dark slacks. Instead, he wears a navy patterned button-down over a gray long-sleeved tee; the outfit is complete with gray pants and a pair of overly-clean sneakers. It’s an odd combination, but you suppose this is his idea of casual attire.

At the sound of the door clicking shut behind you, Nick turns to stare at you over his shoulder. His dark brows are lowered slightly, his expression unreadable but ominous nonetheless. He seems perturbed…then again, he usually does.

Perhaps now is not the most opportune moment for you to make a move on him. The icy pools of his irises scan from your feet to your face, taking in every inch of you before glaring into your eyes. His jaw ticks rhythmically and the hands buried in his pockets rustle quietly before he beckons to you with a growled command to come further into the room.

One corner of Nick’s mouth quirks when your feet instantly begin moving, your steps quick and eager. Something about your desperation to please him has always made his cock swell a bit and today is certainly no different. Your cautious eyes peer up at him through your lashes, blinking dumbly as you stand before him expectantly and your legs subconsciously rub together. The motion catches his attention and his gaze shifts lower to observe the cute dress you’re wearing. 

The outfit is undoubtedly due to a recent compliment he’d given you about a similar garment; you’ve been wearing dresses rather frequently ever since. He wonders if you’re aware of how you attempt to please him even with the most subtle and unconscious choices you make. You don’t even realize how easily you bend to his will.

“Did you need something?” Nick inquires shortly, raising a brow as he observes you across the room, still seemingly hesitant and determined to keep a distance.

You shift your weight, swallowing with some trouble as you try to find your voice. 

“I wanted to see what you were doing.”

You cringe both inwardly and outwardly, realizing how terribly silly the words sound; resembling those of a lonely child, dependent on someone else to quell their boredom. Nick almost appears to smile before his lips press into a firm, thin line. He drops his eyes as he gathers several folders and documents into a pile and taps them against the desk to align them into a neat stack.

“I’m working.” The answer cracks through the air like a whip. “I have a job to do and unfortunately, that doesn’t include babysitting or entertaining you.”

He may as well have slapped you across the face considering the way you visibly flinch at the venomously offered words. Nick’s tone is one you’re familiar with — the glacial and sharp nuance of a man prone to sour moods and bouts of utter impatience. You suppose this is to your benefit; Nick’s obvious annoyance has sapped all your confidence, drawing it from within you like a sponge. Maybe it will save you from inevitable embarrassment after all.

Your lungs deflate along with every hope you had of following through with this thoughtless endeavor. Of course Nick isn’t interested in you, he can barely stand the sight of you most days; he was simply being kind in a rare moment of affection and you’re a fool for making anything more of it. Nick watches you with glee, glorifying in the self-conscious way you smooth your hands over your dress and nibble uncomfortably at your lower lip. He’s got you right where he wants you, and when you turn on your heel — surely to abscond from the room in an exodus of shame — he calls to you.

“Come over here,” he orders with surprising softness. 

It’s impossible to mask your shock as you twirl back in his direction, your skirt swishing gently around your bare thighs. Your eyes lock with Nick’s as a brief battle of wills commences. He clearly expects your obedience and something about that makes you want to stomp away all the more. But you’ve already set this half-assed plan in motion and you may never get another chance to go after what you want. What harm could it do to give in to Nick?

Nick’s handsome face twists into a smirk and something mischievous glows in his light eyes as he watches you approach with caution. Your fingers glide along the polished edge of the desk and you grip the wood as if needing to brace yourself, as if keeping the hefty piece of furniture between the two of you is going to save you from him. You pause a few feet away from Nick, but that’s not good enough for him. With a flick of his eyes to the ground before him, he silently directs you to close the small distance. 

Your feet come to a stop mere inches from Nick’s much larger ones, your bare toes scrunching anxiously against the cool floorboards beneath them. Though Nick continues smiling victoriously down at you, you raise your head defiantly and meet his gaze without hesitation. The confident charade is almost convincing, but when he reaches for you, you crumble instantaneously. 

“You pick this out just for me?” Nick ponders, dragging his fingers over the thin strap that sits snugly against your shoulder.

A snort of laughter escapes him when you smirk shyly and shrug your shoulders noncommittally. Even as your eyes shift to the ground, he can see the blatantly hopeful expression on your pretty face and it almost makes him pity you. You couldn’t lie to him even if you tried. Nick tugs at the strap’s stretchy fabric and allows it to snap back against your skin.

“It’s a real pretty dress. I like it,” Nick murmurs, making a point of giving your body a once over. “I like the way you look in it.”

Your cheeks warm slightly and a subtle heat thrums between your thighs. The room suddenly seems to spin as you’re overwhelmed with excitement from just a few simple words. Nick’s admission is all it takes for you to gain back every ounce of confidence you’d come stumbling in here with. You rock forward onto the balls of your feet and boldly place your palms against Nick’s torso, just above his firm abdomen. As your hands glide over the soft material of his shirt and venture towards his chest, you implore your brain to come up with something clever to say.

“What do you like about it?” you ask in your best seductive voice.

Nick would be impressed with your audacity if not for the timid way you refuse to look at him now. Something unrighteous in him gleans great pleasure from seeing you struggle with what you want, with what you’re too afraid to ask for. He knew you’d be easy to manipulate, he just wasn’t expecting it to be this easy. Knowing what a vulnerable spot he’s got you in, he perfectly executes the next step of this iniquitous game of push and pull.

His strong hands wrap firmly around your wrists, the warmth pleasant and favorable until he applies more and more pressure. Nick squeezes your joints with bruising force, tutting at you as if you’ve done something wrong. He uses his grip on your arms to yank you off balance, gathering the limbs in one of his large hands to hold you against his body as he leans close to your ear.

“You want a man’s approval so badly…is that it, little girl?” he taunts with a mean-spirited whisper. “Just crave their attention.”

Shame ignites a fresh wave of heat in your cheeks upon hearing Nick’s cruel response. It isn’t the first time he’s implied that you have a desperate need for acceptance from the men in your life. On occasions when he’s being especially malicious, he’s even gone as far as mentioning that maybe if you were better behaved and more compliant, perhaps your father would not have abandoned you and your poor, innocent mother. Nick knew that particularly savage barb would only make you more malleable to his wishes and it’s a tactic he’s learned to use sparingly though strategically. 

Nick studies you as your wavering fortitude crumbles to bits and your eyes gloss over with an abundance of moisture. He’s elated to see how much his comment has affected you. The more he plants the seed of your need for male attention and acceptance, the greater the benefit he receives from the crop it yields when you continue to prove him right. You’ll do anything just to earn his literal and figurative embrace, which is precisely what he wants.

“Well, you sure know how to get it,” Nick sneers hotly against the shell of your ear, punctuating the insult with a rogue hand sneaking under your short skirt to grip the soft flesh of your ass.

Your voice cracks around a soft moan that is muffled by the fingers buried up to the knuckles in your mouth. No matter how hard you press your tongue against the intrusive digits, Nick merely applies more pressure to the slick muscle, shoving his fingers even further until you audibly gag around them. He keeps you settled in his lap with your head tipped down so your watery eyes remain on him. You can hear the sound of his other hand working furiously around his cock, which is exposed through the fabric of the slacks that hang open around his trim hips.

Saliva coats the length of his fingers and the slender digits slip and slide against one another as he pumps them into your open mouth. A flood of drool dribbles down your chin as your jaw hangs open and a thin stream begins to trickle across Nick’s wrist, running along his sinewy arm and creating a dark splotch on the bunched sleeve of his shirt. You struggle to breathe through your nose with your stepfather’s hand practically stuffed down your throat, gagging until tears spill from your eyes. Nick clicks his tongue, eyebrows furrowed piteously as he slowly drags his whorled fingertips over your taste buds.

You manage to draw in a much-needed breath before sniffling and coughing harshly. Nick’s fingers glide over your lower lip, pulling it down and letting it flop back in place before his thumb sweeps through the moisture on your chin. He collects most of your residual spit on his fingers, then drops his hand to his lap to smear the saliva along the tip of his cock; the reddened flesh already shiny with pre-cum as he switches hands to viciously fuck his wet fist, inadvertently bouncing you in his lap with each jostling movement of his hips.

With the hand previously wrapped around his length, he reaches up to grab your face, his palm still overly warm from the friction. He squeezes your cheeks until your mouth puckers and he chuckles at how stupid you look. Stupid and absolutely debauched given the thick splatters of cum that cling to the tip of your nose, your brow, and your cheekbones from when he’d jerked off over your pretty face earlier.

Evidently, Nick hadn’t taken too kindly to being slapped and called an asshole in response to his teasing if the ensuing events were anything to go by. You ended up on your knees, under an onslaught of insults and degradation as Nick pleasured himself above you; being taught a lesson you’d surely not forget. He had every intention of stopping things there before it went too far, but when he saw your hopeful excitement as his cum spilled across your skin and coated your features, something in him snapped. There was no hope of holding himself back from showing you precisely how you could earn a man’s approval.

“Are you my good girl?” Nick rasps as his fingers gather the sticky white remnants from your heated skin.

Your eyes light up as you nod eagerly and he half expects you to start panting with your tongue lolling out like an over-excited puppy. Tapping his knuckles against your mouth, he raises a single brow and you obediently part your lips. He shoves his cum-slathered digits inside and — without even having to be told — you seal your mouth shut around his fingers and suck; your tongue sliding between each one to slurp his seed enthusiastically. When he tries to pull his hand away, you’re quick to wrap both of yours around his wrist, keeping his arm in place so you can lick and suck at his salty skin.

All the while, Nick still pumps his cock rhythmically. The slick friction created by the lubrication of your saliva is rapidly sending him hurtling towards another orgasm. He tips his head back, teeth digging into his lower lip and eyes hooded as his thighs spasm beneath you. You don’t know what comes over you, but you find yourself scooting closer and closer to Nick, fitting your pelvis above his and tilting your hips towards the sizable erection in his hand.

You take his long fingers even deeper until your mouth is stretched painfully around the thick digits and you’re salivating uncontrollably. Each time you whimper and suck harder against his fingers, Nick grunts in response; his abs tightening and rippling under his gray shirt as his orgasm fast approaches. He’s so caught up in imagining how your lips would feel wrapped around him that he misses the way your weight shifts then disappears altogether as you slide off his thighs and drop to the ground between his feet.

The sheer length and girth of Nick’s cock is daunting from this perspective, but you’re determined not to let that deter you. Not when you’re this close to what you were after. Your eyes are locked onto Nick’s strong hand, entranced by the way his tanned fingers tug up and down the smooth skin of his erection. Your mouth waters. 

Licking your lips in anticipation at the sinful sight, it’s torture to watch Nick slide his fist along the thick shaft that bounces only inches from your face and do nothing about it. With yet another uncharacteristic rush of bravery, you lean in and sweep your tongue over a prominent vein that runs the length of Nick’s straining shaft, not caring when his knuckles catch your sensitive lip and pinch it against your teeth. The moment the tip of your tongue makes contact with Nick’s member, his eyes whip open and he curls forward, immediately wrapping a hand around your throat to force you backwards.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses, fingers pulsing against the delicate length of your neck as he shakes you slightly then pulls you close enough that the sharp tip of his nose brushes yours.

“Please,” you mewl pathetically, putting on your best puppy dog eyes as you beg.

The wavering, pleading tone of your voice nearly brings him to his knees. Any chance he had of stopping this runaway train before it derails and lands you both in trouble flies out the window. You shatter every remaining bit of his self control with a single whimpered word, although he has no plans of allowing you to maintain that power.

“Did you want something, sweet girl?” Nick coos, the soft and sympathetic tone he uses belying the angry, sinful fire in his crystalline eyes.

He slides his wide palm along your neck until it cradles the back of your head and your stomach flips with excitement, believing that Nick is finally going to allow you to take him into your wanting mouth. You arch forward with cautious eyes, craning your neck until you’re inches from his crotch so there can be no doubt about what you want. Your tongue has barely snuck past your shiny lips before Nick takes himself in hand and slaps the hot flesh of his cock across your cheek.

“Stupid little thing…doesn’t even know how to use her words,” he barks as he drags the weeping tip along your lips, holding fast against your skull so that you cannot possibly get close enough to suck his dick. “So fuckin’ impatient, you could barely even wait for your mother to leave the house. I know you were upstairs creaming those girly little panties just thinking about how you were gonna get your own stepfather to touch you, hmm? Thought you’d flaunt your ass a little so you could get some attention, is that it?”

Through his tirade of humiliating words, you’re still fighting against his grip to get your mouth on him. You don’t even care whether or not his insults are true, the only thing on your mind is tasting him. And besides…he’s the one who flirted with you, otherwise you wouldn’t even be here. You hope your stubborn antics entice Nick…make him appreciate your need to please him. All you can focus on is satisfying him. All you can think about is making him feel good. Isn’t that enough to earn his affection?

When your lips touch Nick’s hand and nearly brush against his length, he shifts one leg and plants the sole of his sneaker squarely against your chest. He extends the limb, his strong calf muscle bunching and bulging beneath his pants as he sends you toppling onto your back. Your elbows knock against the wooden floor with a resounding thud and the air leaves your lungs in a dramatic rush.

“Look at you, you’re pathetic,” Nick observes nastily as he stands from his chair to tower over you. He leans over and grabs your chin firmly, yanking you up onto your knees so that he can slap his cock against your cheek again, then slide the pulsing tip between your lips. “This what you wanted? You wanted daddy in your mouth, huh?”

With your lips stretched wide around his girth and your tongue immobile beneath the weight of his cock, you can only hum in confirmation. The way he speaks to you makes you squirm in the most disgraceful way; a stark reminder of how wrong this is and how dirty you feel behaving this way with your stepfather.

Nick thrusts his hips and his length reaches the back of your throat with such force that tears begin to seep from your eyes. The moan that escapes around the appendage stuffed in your mouth causes Nick to inhale loudly, the air hissing through his perfect teeth as his length twitches against your tongue.

“You look so good down there,” Nick pants with a rare show of genuine praise. “Exactly where you belong…on your knees like a worthless whore, choking on daddy’s fat fucking cock.”

He grows painfully hard as you whine around him and desperately fight to breathe, battling your gag reflex to take every inch of him without choking. You swallow him down in earnest; licking, slurping, and gagging as you do your best to impress the dominant man. Your display of unabashed corruption threatens to make Nick explode then and there, something he has no intention of doing without first being buried deep inside you.

Crouching down, Nick grabs you by your hair and pulls your head back at an extreme angle that forces you to lose your balance and topple over. He comes with you, bracing one hand beside your head as he hovers threateningly over you. When he settles between your legs, his bare cock rubs deliciously against your panty-clad mound and you suck in a breath. The friction is enough to wreak havoc on Nick’s nearly non-existent restraint, but when he glances down, the sight he’s met with makes his head spin: a wetness darkening the crotch of your innocent-looking cotton panties that unleashes something feral in him. 

Nick wedges his huge hands under your armpits and drags you up with him as he stands back up. As dreadfully heavy as his balls are with the need to bury himself in your pussy as soon as possible, he’s not going to fuck you on the floor like some horny, overzealous teenager. The squeak you let out as he drops you heavily on his desk and the plastic cap of a pen digs into the softness of your ass is adorable, but that’s not what Nick is thinking about. His entire attention is focused on shoving the fabric of your dress up and out of his way, the harsh tugging of your clothing making you shoot your hands out behind you in order to remain upright. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Look how wet you are,” Nick spits through clenched teeth, scolding you as if you’ve done something offensively wrong.

Now your cheeks are positively melting with a blazing inferno of shame and you turn your head away, too embarrassed to watch the way his eyes focus between your trembling thighs. Nick is breathing laboriously above you, fingers trembling with the need to rip away the thin scrap of material that hides you from him. If he isn’t buried deep within the tight heat of your pussy right now, he fears his head may explode — both of them. He can’t possibly hold back any longer.

You flinch slightly at the first rough contact of Nick’s knuckles brushing your sensitive folds as he yanks your panties to one side. His pupils swallow the remnants of his cold, blue irises at the sound of your breathless gasp and the sight of your soaked cunt. He paws mindlessly at his pants which still hang loosely at his hips, shoving them lower along with his boxers so that his skin is exposed to mid-thigh.

Suddenly you’re panicking while Nick situates himself between your thighs and forces them open to make room for his large body. His cock bobs between you, bouncing dangerously close to your center. Sure, you’ve given this plenty of thought, but it was nothing more than a fantasy; never in your wildest dreams did you imagine it actually becoming a reality.

Though you shuffle awkwardly along the slippery surface of Nick’s desk, he’s quick to latch his large hands around the underside of your thighs as he squeezes the soft flesh and pulls you back to the edge. Your heart skips a beat when he bends at the waist, his lips only inches from your pulsing core. The thought of his mouth devouring and pleasuring you has you panting and quaking, the warm wetness of the saliva he spits forcefully against your pussy has you gulping loudly. Hips wriggling and restless, your mouth suddenly grows dry with unease when Nick stands at his full height and shoves you until you’re forced to take your weight on your elbows while he angles your pelvis up towards him.

Typically, Nick would warm his girl up and at least prepare her a little, but he simply doesn’t have the patience to do that for you. So desperate and ready to take you — to make you take him — after seeing you behave with such depravity. Your eyes widen and your jaw falls slack as his cock sits heavily atop your pubic bone and the silky firmness drags against your own flesh as he fits the bulbous head directly over your throbbing clit. 

The heat of his massive appendage sears you, sending bolts of lightning through every inch of your body as you prepare for the initial discomfort of his length breaching you. You expect Nick to take his time and slowly push into you considering how large he is, but he doesn’t allow you that courtesy. Offering no concern for your pleasure, Nick shifts his hips and inserts the blunt head of his cock into you, though he has no intention of stopping there. He doesn’t think you deserve to be treated with care, he knows you don’t really want to be.

You’re certainly wet enough to ease the entrance of his thick member, however without first stretching you out, your pussy is clenched so tightly around him that he can’t fit more than an inch or two inside. He proceeds without pause, not giving you a moment to adjust and you whine in protest; a sound which Nick takes as beseeching encouragement.

“My needy little girl,” he murmurs. “You wanna be stuffed full…don’t you, baby? Just want someone to love you, poor thing.”

Although the words are cooed softly, they’re teasing, taunting, and heavy with condescension. Ignoring your whimpers of objection, Nick seeks to give you just what he’s accused you of wanting. With several pointed thrusts of his hips, he manages to feed you a few more inches until you’re crying out with the aching pressure between your thighs. He shifts and leans even more of his weight into you, causing you to groan in a way that has him smiling wickedly. He’s decided he’s waited long enough to have you.

Paying no mind to any discomfort or pain it may cause, Nick slams his hips forward and with one swift and fluid motion, he’s bottomed out. The intense burning stretch prompts a howl to part your lips and your head slams into the surface of the desk when your arms can no longer bear your weight. Before you have a chance to recover from Nick’s harsh filling of your tight pussy, he attempts to pull out, your rippling walls making it somewhat difficult for him.

“Tight little snatch doesn’t wanna let me go,” he puffs hotly, strong hands digging fervidly into your waist as he drags his cock slowly from your body.

Unable to handle another forceful drive like the last, you squirm beneath Nick and try to wiggle away from the pulsating dick that rests just within your clenching channel. He merely smirks at your distress and fails to hold back a ridiculing scoff. The hands braced along your torso journey upwards towards your breasts, then under your body where they curl around your shoulders from behind. Nick takes one long inhale before he digs his fingers into your skin and slams your hips into his, forcing your body to accommodate his incredible girth.

Your mouth opens on a silent scream and tears trickle from the corners of your eyes. Though Nick’s brutal treatment is overwhelming, your ears are ringing with how inexplicably good it feels. With your pussy squeezing and oozing around him, you know it won’t take much for you to explode regardless of how rough he’s being with you. The stimulation against your clit from the coarse hairs at the base of his cock as he presses as deep as he possibly can has you clawing your nails into the wood beneath you. Your body shakes uncontrollably and you circle your hips, not sure if you’re trying to escape the sensation or scramble closer to it.

Nick repeats the motion until he’s so deep it hurts and you feel as though your muscles are cramping. The pain and pleasure wash over you in equal and immense waves, rendering you incapable of coherent thought. Your body moves mindlessly when you reach out to brace your palms against Nick’s stomach in a wordless bid for him to back off and the stinging slap across your cheek sends you hurtling right back down to Earth.

His face is worryingly angry now and it makes you want to cower. With nowhere to go, all you can do is mewl helplessly when he yanks one of your thighs around his pelvis and shoves the other leg towards your chest. The position has you completely exposed, your leaking pussy on full display as he splits you open with his cock. A jarring soreness blossoms from where his swollen cock stabs persistently against your tender cervix. Your damp palms slap noisily against the hard surface beneath you as you try to drag your body away in search of some relief.

“You wanted this so bad, don’t run from it now,” Nick hisses, pinning your hips down as he begins to fuck into you savagely. “What did you expect me to do when you came in here batting your eyes and practically dripping on my floors? If you didn’t want daddy to fuck you like a little tramp, you really shouldn’t have done that.”

Nick pounds into you so hard that your tear-filled eyes roll back and you’re moaning in the most unbecoming way. Your throat is dry and raw and you know you’re moments away from what is beginning to feel like the best orgasm you’ve ever had. When your eyes return to their rightful place, they clash with Nick’s and your brows furrow as you’re met with staggering pleasure at the passionate, lustful heat that burns there. 

As he pounds into your sweet, slippery pussy, Nick tries to ignore how your face is crinkled in ecstasy as you watch him with blatant adoration. Admittedly, the pornographic way you’re responding has him hardening noticeably, but that doesn’t matter. Staring into your wide and doting eyes, he doesn’t want you to think he gives a shit about your pleasure. This isn’t special to him.

Crashing a clammy palm against your cheek, Nick forces your head to the side with jolting swiftness. He wrangles your legs while still fucking into you and manages to skillfully flip you over onto your stomach. With your thighs pressed together in this position, Nick feels impossibly large and the sensation of unbearable fullness has drool trickling from your parted lips.

“Please...oh god,” you choke out, the words slurring out from your slack mouth. “I can’t, daddy. It hu—.”

“Hurts?” he barks, cutting you off. “It hurts? Good. That’s good, baby. That’s what you need.”

As your hands scramble for purchase and your upper body slides across the desk with each punishing forward motion of Nick’s hips, you scatter the stack of papers he had so neatly gathered earlier. A sheet clings to your sweaty palm and another slips under your face as you rest your burning cheek against the cool wood. With tears flowing and drool dribbling steadily from your lips, pools of liquid gather and begin to smear the black ink of the presumably important document you lay upon. You shove the paper away from your sticky face and Nick catches sight of the smudged type, slamming a palm down on the ruined document.

“You’re making a fucking mess of my work,” he growls, lifting and then shoving your head so that your skull thunks against the desk. “Maybe I should make a mess of this pretty pussy. Huh? Should I?”

All you can do is whine pitifully in response; you’re too scared of angering Nick further and given the way he pins you in place and buries his cock all the way to the root, you’re utterly mindless. With a sharp slap on your ass and a powerful thrust, you’re finally hit with a rattling orgasm that forces you to lose control of your body. Your arms flail wildly at your sides and your knees shake and buckle as your pussy spasms with release. 

“Nasty slut…creaming all over my cock like that,” Nick grunts, revealing his own wavering control as he grits the words through clenched teeth. “Such a bad, bad girl.”

His words embarrass you and you wonder whether you are a bad person for getting off on this. Tears spill rapidly and you sniffle as you choke back a blubbering cry while Nick still grinds unwaveringly against your backside, fucking you through your orgasm until you grow horribly sensitive. All the while, he continues berating you, shaming you for letting him fuck you and for finding release on your stepfather’s cock.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” you stutter pathetically, your broken sobs only fueling Nick’s hunger to destroy you wholly.

Another swift slap halts your warbled words as Nick palms your face and presses it firmly into the desk, forcing your cheek into the puddle of drool you’ve left beneath yourself. You try to squirm out of his hold and away from the cold, slick mess, but he’s relentless and easily keeps you in place. Following a whine of protest, Nick leans in to spit harshly in your face. The hot saliva slips over your nose and lips before joining yours on the desk below.

“Lick it up,” he demands, pressing more intently on the hand braced against your face. 

Your jaw vibrates and lips quiver as you begrudgingly open your mouth and the tip of your tongue peeks out. Nick grows impatient and slaps you once more, prompting you to obey his orders more quickly. He watches with rapt interest as your tongue sweeps through your combined saliva. The obscene sight finally halts his gyrating hips and he tucks his pelvis snugly against your own as he sees you obediently lapping at the puddle.

“That’s it, there you go,” he purrs, his cock retracting with surprising ease until he’s nearly slipped free from your soaked pussy. “Maybe your real daddy would have stayed if he knew what a good girl you can be.”

“Nick, p-please,” you beg as you twirl your hips in search of more friction; seeking out the feeling of him buried back inside you. 

You’re so close and — with all shame long forgotten in the heat of your neediness — you want nothing more than for the man who serves as the only father figure in your life to make you cum. It’s undignified and it’s sinful, but you are far beyond caring. Nick answers your unspoken question with both force and fervor, slamming so deep and hard into your depths that your pussy produces an embarrassingly wet squelch and your juices splash against your thighs and his.

“Guess you couldn’t make him stick around by showing him what a well-trained whore you are, huh? But you had no issue trying that shit on me. Thought that would fill the void, didn’t you? Fucking your own goddamn stepdad,” Nick rambles, growling and mindless as he stuffs and stretches you to your absolute limit. 

His hands claw at your bare shoulders until they both eventually find purchase around your delicate throat. Angling you up, he crushes your smaller form to his firm chest, his hot breath brushing past your over-heated cheeks as he pants rapidly against the shell of your ear. Sweat drips down his forehead and lands on your collarbone before trickling along your cleavage. His warm lips brush your sensitive earlobe when he snarls his next words.

“Tell me…is there anything fatherly about the way I’m giving you this cock?”

The sound that erupts from your chest is that of a wounded animal; distressed and bleating. Seemingly fueled by your agonized noises and the sheer wrongness of his own words, Nick pounds harder into you with a renewed vigor as he brutishly slams your chest forward and pins you against his desk once more. 

He plants his feet beside yours and practically climbs on top of you as something animalistic and carnal blooms within him. Nothing matters to him except the rabid desire to overpower you and fill you full of his seed. The very thought of watching his thick cream drip from your used body has his head spinning and his dick swelling so much you squeal with discomfort. 

Your pelvis bumps painfully into the sharp edge of the desk and though you know the soft flesh will surely bruise, you can’t focus on anything but how full you feel. Before you have a chance to beg Nick for mercy, an oppressive heat begins between your legs and your stomach lurches. 

“F-fuck, I think I’m gonna—”

You aren’t given the chance to finish the statement before Nick is preventing the words from emitting from your lips. He slams a heavy palm over your mouth, fingers digging into your cheekbones as he leans in close.

“Shut up, I don’t fucking care,” he grunts. “Don’t wanna hear you…don’t wanna hear your fuckin’ mouth. Just wanna hear how fucking soaked this pussy is. She wants my cock so fuckin’ bad…just stay still for me and take it.”

He punctuates the notion with several determined thrusts which fill the room with the sound of your wetness and the deplorable smacking of colliding flesh. With your fingers and toes curling along with your arching spine, a blinding orgasm overcomes you. Your legs shake as your core constricts until Nick can barely move, though that doesn’t prevent him from trying. 

Among a litany of loud curses — his voice sharp and strained — Nick fucks into you with harsh but shallow movements; your trapped moans further dampen his sweaty palm as he muffles your pleasured exhalations. His cock spears your sore cunt, every ridge and vein lightning your nerve endings on fire with each drag of the hard flesh. 

A garbled sound claws its way up Nick’s throat and you know what’s about to happen. You try helplessly to shift away and force him to pull out, although when he snatches your wrists and pins them against your lower back with both of his hands, his full body weight laid over top of yours, you know it's of no use.

Every pulse and twitch of his cock has you inching towards another orgasm as each muscle in your own body tremors with exertion. Just when you’re about to tumble over the precipice, Nick ceases moving altogether. All you can do is lie there and take it while Nick explodes with an echoing roar, his engorged cock throbbing as he floods your sopping pussy and drenches your womb with ropes of his hot cum. You begin to writhe beneath him, uttering a hoarse whine that quickly morphs into a cry of desperation. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead, almost in tears.

He continues releasing into your pliant body, a shudder coursing through him as his cock jerks, still buried balls deep in your messy cunt. You manage to free your wrists from Nick’s grip, but he refuses to let you up. Even picking up on the distant sound of the front door opening then rattling shut, he won’t move. Your blood runs cold when you hear your mother’s swift approach, her keys jingling loudly with every determined step. 

A sigh of relief escapes you once she passes and detours towards the kitchen, however that moment of calmness is short-lived as Nick ruts insistently against you. Although his cock softens within your silken walls, it remains swollen enough to stimulate you with every pump of his hips. Your peep of surprise prompts his over-sensitive cock to jump and he grinds into you with purpose. He swore not to care about your pleasure, but he longs to watch you fall apart for a third time. He needs you to cum for him again.

“Better be quiet, little girl,” Nick warns, curling over you and inserting three long fingers into the moist recess of your mouth as he humps weakly against you. “Unless you want your mother to come in here and find you…see you being used like a sloppy whore by your stepdaddy. I don’t think she’d be very proud knowing what a slut she raised.”

Nick’s vicious words send a burst of ashamed heat racing through your whole body, although the burning sensation only seems to gather directly between your slick thighs. Your clit pulses with every harshly spoken syllable and that combined with the hot, sticky stimulation from his half-hard cock — lazily fucking your cum-filled pussy and rubbing you just right — sends you over the edge.

Without warning, your entire body stiffens and you do your best to subdue your pleasured groan as you suck the digits stuffed between your lips. Your cunt is aching and tender, but still manages to ripple and clench so forcefully around Nick’s length that he slides right out of you; a warm rush of your juices and his abundant cum pouring out in thick rivulets which collect messily in his pubic hair and drip to the floor between your bare feet. 

Before you truly have an opportunity to revel in your release, Nick is interrupting the euphoric moment by yanking you upright and spinning you round to face him. You tip your head up to meet his chilly stare, struggling to focus your bleary eyes on his attractive face. A face which displays none of the discomposure you feel in your current frazzled and fucked-out state. Nick smiles in a way that makes your skin crawl, the sight of his gleaming white teeth more predatory than affectionate or comforting.

“Get on your knees. Suck me clean,” he utters with false patience, the infernal spark in his eyes simply daring you to say no.

Gulping audibly, you grip the edge of the desk to stabilize yourself as you drop to the hard floor with shaky legs. Your knees settle uncomfortably on the unforgiving wood and the musky scent of sweat and sex surrounds you. Nick studies you unflinchingly, his eyes boring into you as you observe his flaccid cock, still smeared with your combined fluids.

As you lean forward, you swear you can hear Nick gasp shakily. For once, you feel as though you have the upper-hand. You move with calculated delay as you walk the tips of your fingers up his muscular thighs before wrapping them around the waistband of the disheveled pants that hang loosely from his hips. Another tense moment passes. You can feel him growing impatient and choose not to push your luck. You want to be good for him, after all.

The flavor that assaults your taste buds as your tongue flicks out to tentatively lick the soft flesh presented to you has you eagerly wrapping your lips around the head of Nick’s cock. He groans at the wet heat of your mouth and you groan at the balmy, silky weight of his length against your tongue. You suck gently, admiring the way you taste together; Nick’s sweat and cum are salty and potent, your own juices more subtle and sweet. The perfect amalgamation; mingling in a heady and complimentary mixture, but each distinct in their own way. 

You can’t get enough and you engulf Nick with your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you suckle determinedly. His cock feels heavy and strange in its lax state, but you swallow him skillfully nevertheless. The pulsing suction of your greedy mouth prompts Nick to plant both of his hands around the back of your skull and pull you forward until your face is buried in the thatch of hair at the root of his length and cum smears along the bridge of your nose and your cheek. 

“Such a sweet thing,” he murmurs, his words encouraging you to bathe him in your saliva until all that remains is the untainted taste of his flesh.

When your swirling tongue brushes the delicate skin of Nick’s now-empty balls, he yanks your mouth away; his cock twitches at the thought of you slurping obediently there and he knows just how risky that will be with your mother and his wife merely a room away. Instead, he hastily shoves himself back into his boxers, fixes his pants, and plops into the previously vacated leather chair. He adjusts the bunched sleeves of his tee and smooths his hands over the open lapels of his shirt. You remain perched on your knees — disheveled and expectant, your dress a wrinkled mess — awaiting some sort of acknowledgement from your stepfather. 

Nick leans his elbows on the surface of his desk and begins to rifle through the stack of confidential papers he’d fucked you over, annoyed at the stains of sweat, spit, and tears. He returns to his work like you’re not even there. Your stomach drops and your eyes mist over with a sting of disappointment. Though you know it is childish to have expected him to praise you or hold you after — not to mention dangerous if you hope to protect the secret you now share — you can’t help the hope you have for him to at least say something to you. Rather, he proceeds as if nothing has happened between you.

“I have work to do,” Nick informs you coldly, not even sparing a single glance in your direction. “You should go get cleaned up.”

Seeing no movement from you, Nick finally offers his attention. The emptiness in his blue eyes makes you shudder and the way he curls his lip in what can only be described as disgust finally prompts the tears gathering in your eyes to spill forth. Of course you were stupid to expect any sort of affection or appreciation from the wicked man. He’s acting as if nothing has happened because it hasn’t…not for him anyway. You were nothing more than a fuck to him. A hole. A means to find release.

With that in mind, you rise clumsily to your feet and scurry with haste towards the door. Deep down, you’re still hoping for Nick to call out to you, to say something that will let you know this interaction meant anything to him the way it had for you. But the silence you’re met with hurts more than any of the nasty, insulting things he’d said to you earlier. 

The skin of your thighs sticks together as you make your exit, a cruel reminder of how callously your stepfather has used you. You swipe agitatedly at your face, smearing your tears and the drying cum from your skin. Though you fight to bury the sobs that bubble up from deep in your chest, one sad and strangled sound escapes you. And it makes Nick smile when he hears; satisfied with his efforts, knowing he has you right where he wants you yet again.

Sebastian Stan Masterlist ✦ Writing Masterpost

#i specifically mentioned his sneakers for all the haters……hi haters! #don't ask me what this is....i genuinely have no idea #don’t ask about that picture either i literally was just trying to avoid writing so i made a piece of shit collage #and then proceeded to ignore this piece for 2 entire months while i had a existential meltdown #i can confidently say this is nowhere near my best work....it sucks....but i had to finish it so i could stop thinking about it #now i can work on all the other stories that i actually WANT to write and have motivation for lol #my daddy issues are running rampant these days sorry for all the stepdad content that's gonna happen #do i actually hate this fic and am i gonna delete in after 3 days? probably who knows #nick fowler #nick fowler smut #nick fowler fanfiction #the 355 fanfiction #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x reader smut #actually you know what i just finished editing this and hey what the fuck it's bad!

[ohitslen]

Bro what if I made a poor attempt of a fanfic where I explore Vash feeling mad. What would happen. What if there was a small amount of Vashwood in it. Too. What.

#tbh I have never in my life gotten my hand into fanfic #like. writing it myself #original stories? for sure! I’m your girl I have an insane amount of stories it’s my passion! #but the way fic writers work is very different and I LOVE YOU ALL #however I don’t really feel very comfy doing it because I don’t like walking in ground I don’t know #but you see I am now giving zero fucks because this hyperfixation changed me to a chemical level #like I’m sorry but it’s making me WANT TO WRITE ABOUT IT????? that to my own personal standards. is very crazy #so I’m thinking #but I’m not entirely sure I’m just thinking…

[cerealmonster15]

thinking abt ur jamiazu fic where they go on a field trip and azul carried jamil <3 loved them sm .... azul talking to the lil octopus was so cute too

wahhh THANK YOU i really liked writing that one!!! i love making characters be SILLY DORKY LITTLE FOOLS

hes being SO VERY SERIOUS RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!

i'd like to think jamil was Haunted by that new lore of Azul Being Strong Enough To Carry Him With Ease LOL

#sorry i wanted an excuse to DOODLE lol glad u like it THANK U WAHHHHHHHH #makes me all warm n fuzzy knowing people still think of the fics after reading em the first time ;w; #asks #mobblepsycho100 #cereal tries to draw #another fic where i inserted a bus ride even tho they Probably Wouldnt LOL FDSJKFfkls #whatever im p sure adeuce mentioned public transit at the end of book 4 so who says busses dont exist #at least this was an entirely made up scenario #UNLIKE WHERE I GOOFED IT IN SECURITY CAULDRON and forgot they took a portal to vargas camp or w/e #and i just. added a bus LOL #shshhshh it was one of my earlier twst fics it's FINE that wasntthe point #<- i am haunted by past fic mistakes #ANYWAY I GOT DISTRACTED HI THANK YOU FOR SWEET MESSAGE I LOVE U !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #I am glad things i think r silly n sweet n fun are all those things 2 other people too #me posting muppets au at midnight: hmm. is this too much. anyway-

[warpolomewdarkmatter]

sketchy illustrations to The Locker Room by TrueColours the fic that makes me UNWELL IN THE HEAD....... (with all the love possible.) also sketches that didnt make the cut.. under the cut !!

only reason i didnt make it to Actually Messing With The Neck part is that it’s hard to draw and i was getting embarassed by that point and my stylus kept slipping as i turned into slime. btw the repeated use of “of course” in this paragraph is actually destroying me on molecular level

and this scene follows shortly :3 also very rough sketch and i hate their arms and hands immeasurably but buzz Intense Autistic Stare (tm) i do enjoy.

#buzz lightyear of star command #warp darkmatter #buzz lightyear #drawpost #origpost #the last of the frames is my favourite lol it really shows where i started to get the hand of drawing the boys #YAY BTW ACADEMY YEARS WARP WITH A NOSERING <3 BELOVED #sorry TrueColours for ignoring that warp has some sort of buttoned shirt i wanted to make him look sl. slu. well i cant say. #goddd the way this fic GEEETTTSSSS WARP i cannot tell you enough #i keep rereading it and i just stare at the word choices and think YES. all the little EMOTION DROPS inbetween dialogue. YES. #warp is obsessed with this human guy and i am obsessed with every word he has to think about him.... #'neutral and earnest' just kill me. 'way to get personal buzz' oh DESTROY ME. 'sounds romantic buzz said. warp scoffed' AAAAAAAAAAAA #i will quote the entire fic by this point but sorry. i have a lot to say and more to repeat! please read it !! (be warned of age rating!)