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#don lifted
th3-0bjectivist · 11 months
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    Dear listener, I’ve spent the entire month posting some of the rarest hip-hop I know about to Tumblr. Here’s one more track that is a little more emotionally vulnerable than the rest of the pack. Don Lifted isn’t a household name, he’s not big in the music industry (yet) and compared to other modern hip-hop fat cats he’s got a relatively tiny discography to his name. However, if there’s one thing this talented gentleman provides, it’s an elegantly distinctive and rare form of sub-genre which I can only describe as ambient rap. Heavily instrumental, meaningful, and even atmospheric, Lifted is a sculptor of language and a true poet that brings a lo-fi sound to hip hop that is jarringly different than anything your average rapper could or would bring to the table. It’s got an R&B vibe that accentuates love, transience, and loss. His tunes are oddly romantic, quietly anxious, and far more ambitiously artistic in overall style than I think I’ve ever heard from this entire field of melody. He doesn’t just rap, he often tells a heartfelt story with his tunes. Hailing from Memphis, TN and steeped in visual arts, Lifted uses his talents to create a picture, a painting with his words. I’m not personally a big fan of emo, but he mixes emo with shoegaze and east coast rap which somehow manages to turn my hardened heart into a sack of mush. There are contemplative rappers out there for sure, always have been, always will be. But what this reflective performer does transcends mere contemplation and undergoes a downright lost and absorbed experience of introspection. This is Golden (The Wait) from the 2021 album 325i. It’s been my pleasure to deliver some much-needed hip hop to my page, smash play and enjoy!
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     I feel as if I haven’t ever come across someone so strong on the visual/audio artform as the artist pictured above. I implore you to make him more popular. Image source: https://memphismusichalloffame.com/local_artist/don-lifted/
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months
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Angel Dust: "Okay! So I'm gonna need some reassurance for this shit! We have a plan for this, right?? We're not goin' in BLIND right???"
Vaggie: "Of course we-"
Angel Dust: "Aw shit sorry, I meant, COMPLETELY blind."
Vaggie: (remaining eye twitches) "Of course we have a plan. We..."
Vaggie: (@ charlie) "Babe what's the plan?"
Charlie: "Think positive act fast don't die!"
Vaggie: "Cool great I love you."
Vaggie: (@ Angel Dust) "We have no plan."
Angel Dust: "I'm not askin' you saphs for datin' advice ever again."
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i could draw anything but i decided to draw this. carlo and rocco in 1932 aka my headache
#^ this isnt real ofc but its what happening inside their heads (well in carlo's at least)#mfs when their old friend doesn't break under manipulation#“Lift up the receiver I'll make you a believer” punching the wall with fist#rocco was the underboss not eddie can u hear me!!!!!!!!!!! HELLO!!!!!!!!! (capo henry situation in terms of complexity)#no m2 did smth to my brain and now im incapable of writing normal relationship between people#anyway. things that makes sense only to me rn unfortunately:#“AND YET ALAS I WELCOME YOU KNOWING ABOUT YOU” its carlo @ rocco but works both ways i think. RAHHHHHHHHH#YET YOU THINK WE'RE THE SAME RAHHHHHHHHH#youre not who u are to anyone these days im not who i am to anyone no not me at all these days not at all RAHHHHHHHHH#carlo who was afraid of rocco (for a reason) when he started to run the family rahhhhhhhhh#“That son of a bitch!.. I fuckin’ knew it!” <-watch me put a lot more meaning into a phrase that shouldn't make so much sense#2kczech need to pay me for developing rocco's character btw if u even care . and for writing this fucking falcone family backstory#“Холодный и острый осколок гранита; Смерть Голиафа в руке Давида”#<- “A cold and sharp shard of granite; Goliath's death in David's hand”#i've listened to this song too much it became certifed rocco song to me#let's say rocco helped carlo a lot w preparing moretti family for a new don. just bc i don't think it was this simple#“your capo killed your don lets all pretend that its cool and normal and it doesn't matter that he ran the family for 23 years😋😘”#avart#m2#i wont tag this w fandom tags dear god this shit is so delusional#dear god rocco been a gap and a blank spot in this story for so long but now i genuinely like him#tho i'm still not done with his character yet but there's enough for me to like him#sorry. not normal bout them. not at all .#rocco & carlo
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always-coffee · 2 months
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I used to workout to be skinny. Now I workout to be strong. If you had told 16-year-old me that she’d love working out one day, she would’ve laughed in your face.
Also, yes, I have an obscene amount of hair.
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goldiipond · 11 months
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people like to characterize don as this silly carefree wild-card and gilda as the calm and collected voice of reason but when emma and ray wanted to ask yuugo to take them to goldy pond don’s reaction was a very reasonable ‘hey this man had a gun on you the other day. you guys could die out there. are you sure this is a good idea????’ meanwhile gildas reaction was to personally come up to yuugo when they were about to leave and say ‘hey if you don’t bring at least one of them back alive i’ll blow up this entire shelter and then we’ll all be fucked. what are you gonna do’ and that’s just something i think about a lot
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feleshero · 5 months
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Felicia's the kind of menace who will use her body as a weapon if she ever spies the opportunity to gain the upper hand. She's been trained to do so, sure, but also the burgeoning efficacy of her finely honed body as a weapon in her arsenal can't be understated or ignored. (she dresses like that on purpose)
Regardless of the size of her quarry or their intentions towards her, she's comfortable leading them into her parlor with her enticing gossamer & sweet-scented shadows. And if those don't work, she's always got a few underhanded (underlegged?) tricks to fall back on.
Sleight of Hand, Felicia's most practiced trade, lives and dies in the distraction. And there are few in the ten realms with the iron fortitude to avoid being distracted, one way or another, by her tactics & techniques.
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Bonus pose under the cut:
' hey~ what's your netflix password? '
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delfeur · 6 months
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at least once i day i wish i could fuck don drapper
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bitegore · 11 months
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idk i'm really not precious over a lot of my creative works. I don't care if you trace my art or recolor it, i don't really mind if you borrow my fics and cut them up into something you like better, i don't care if you want to spork my concepts because you think they're the stupidest crap you've ever heard of. you can play around with my ocs if you want as long as we understand that your interpretation isn't their "canon", you can steal their concepts and ideas and designs and i won't blink. i don't like. care. the important part of that for me is that i'm doing it and people like it, why should i give a shit what people do beyond that? public domain, no license, motherfuckers, go fucking nuts
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my mom saw phantom with me recently (after many years for her) and she had the funniest reaction after the show. She was like “the guy spent god knows how long writing that opera and its not even that good, point of no return is a highlight but the actual chorus is just jarring no wonder Carlotta and Piangi are insulted by it” 😅 she loved the show of course but this one criticism kinda made me chuckle
I will be honest: based on the snippets we see, I don't think Don Juan Triumphant is a very good opera. Obviously, Point of No Return is iconic (and that goes without saying), but your mom is right. Don Juan Triumphant is kinda... bad. I wonder if the only reason Erik finished the opera was so he could be petty and ruin the masquerade ball.
(Yes, I am aware of the whole point of the opera is to sound ahead of its time and to sound out of place. I recall reading somewhere that Don Juan Triumphant is influenced by Stravinsky which honestly, I think is a tad insulting to Stravinsky.)
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laurasrandomthoughts · 5 months
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Fitness/Diet Lies that Affect Midlife Women
I’m pissed the F off. Looking back at the BS that I was fed in my teens through the present, I’m freaking sick of all the lies. If you grew up in the 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, 00’s – as women we have been fed the crap that we must be small, thin, and look a certain way. We’ve been subjected to bias, to scales, to lose weight, no wait – lose more weight, use all these millions of beauty products and tips…
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tonycries · 25 days
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Little Heaven
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Synopsis. He’s just your friend-with-benefits, right? So why - in the still haze of the soft sheets and you, fúcking you so sensual and tenderly - does he feel like he’s found his own personal heaven?
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, kinda fluffy, he’s both pússydrunk and in love, slow to rough, marking, mentions of marriage and kids, morning, swearing.
Word count. 1.3k
A/N. Probably the fluffiest smút I’ve ever written.
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You were just his friend-with-benefits, right? No strings attached, right? 
So why was he here? Sinking into your plush mattress, quiet morning sun just barely peeking in through the curtains as he wraps his arms around your naked figure. 
God, he really shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be laying you on your side, drinking in your soft little, “G’mornin’.” Both of your movements languid and still burning with soreness. Your hips pushing back desperately into his as he positions himself so that his leaking tip was just kissing your swollen folds. 
He shouldn’t be whispering soft kisses into the marks that littered your skin. Licking one, long stripe up the sinful trail of hickies down your neck. All sensual touches where it was bruising grips last night. 
That was rule #1, right? No marks. 
Or was it #4… 
Ah, right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck. Not when his greedy eyes wander the expanse of your face, fingers trailing along the features he’s mapped a thousand times over. Tracing delicate patterns across your skin, snaking down, down, down to leisurely lift your leg a little higher. 
Bare chest warm against your back, his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he whispers, “I had a dream y’know.” 
Mind still thinly veiled with sleep, you lean into his warm touch, “Mhm?” 
Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip. Smearing your juices with his thumb as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good. You almost miss the way he buries his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring a soft “Had a dream of us.”
Oh? 
Before you can overthink his words, he’s nudging in gently. So agonizingly gentle. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. 
You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy and him. 
And it seems he was drunk on you just as much, because as soon as his hips are flush against yours, the words escape him. So quiet and groggy with sleep, that you almost don’t catch them.
“Had a dream that I made you my beautiful bride.”
Oh. 
That was new. His words hung heavy in the heady air. 
Shivers run down your spine - all the way to where he was buried in your dripping cunt. Your voice is slightly shaky as you let out a humorless laugh, “Oh yeah? Must’ve been a nightmare then.”
Soft lips press against your forehead, breathing in your scent. Absolutely searing as he mutters out a muffled, “No, was the best dream I ever had.”
And then, with the audacity of someone who didn’t just send your mind reeling, he pulls his hips back unhurriedly. Immediately fucking into you at a slow, sensual pace. Tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips languidly into yours, making sure you feel every bump and graze against your tight walls.
You don’t know what’s more maddening - his agonizing pace or the words that tumble out of his lips. “Y’looked so beautiful in white. So pretty walking down the aisle to me.” 
His lips brush against yours, hands dancing across every inch of you he could reach. Gently caressing the skin like it’s something divine, soothing over the marks from last night as if an apology. “Don’ think I’d want to see anyone else there.”
You glance back at him - only to find his eyes already on you. A jolt of electricity runs across your skin at the pure warmth in them. And you realize that, no, this wasn’t a joke. 
Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply grind your hips down to meet his, abs rubbing against your ass. Letting out a broken whimper of what sounds like his name as he moves down a hand to press rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. 
“Saw a little something else too.” he hums, a sly smile curling his lips as his other hand dances across your body to press down on your stomach. Hard. “Saw that I had some competition - two actually. Funny, right?”
“Hah- h-hilarious.” you manage to choke out as his thumb speeds up on your clit, hips moving a bit more purposefully. A bit more like you were used to. Rock-hard cock plunging into your quivering cunt in deliberate, sloppy thrusts that have you white-knuckling the sheets. 
“Though…” he trails off dangerously, pulling back all the way until his furiously hard tip was just kissing your waiting hole. “I wouldn’t really mind.”
And with that he’s sheathing his throbbing erection in your wet pussy completely. A gasp of delight leaves him at the way you take him so readily. Walls sucking him up so sinfully - perfect. You were always so perfect for him. 
“Dreamt we had a lil’ house with a big garden.” God, he can feel his cock harden so painfully at the fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your pretty lips each time his hip smack into yours. It’s music to his ears, such a shame he just can’t shut the fuck up right now. “And then you dressed the kids up while I made breakfast.”
“Then you made us do taxes and I didn’t even fucking mind.” His voice is strained now, words slurring together as he rams his cock deeper and deeper, glistening with your slick in the soft morning glow. 
“And finally at night, I say we should make a third one.” 
He looks at you, a sly grin stretching his lips, eyes half-lidded and a dangerous twinkle in them that has you wondering whether everything he said before was merely a ruse to fuck you silly. And it probably shows on your face - because he grins lowly in your ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we have till our wedding night f’me to fuck you slow.”
And oh he almost feels guilty. But he can’t bring himself to slow down at the way your swollen lips drop into such a pretty oh! at his words. Mewling at the sting of his heavy balls as they smack your ass. Walls clamping down desperately on his dick, milking him for every drop of pleasure. Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy as he focuses on making you lose your mind. 
He shifts his angle slightly, grinding expertly against your g-spot just right, and you throw your head back, releasing a low moan of his name.
“Shit. Yeah, say m’name, sweetheart. Jus’ like that.” he moans breathlessly. 
His name - soon to be yours.
Maybe.
You turn your head to face him, eyes fiery as you capture his in an equally scorching kiss. Cock slamming into your poor, abused cunt with an intensity that matches that of your lips.
Probably. 
Biting down on his lower lips, soft yet insistent. Humming deliriously against his mouth - and in the heat of it all, he feels you smile against his lips. Ever-so-slightly. 
Definitely. 
And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure behind your eyes, walls clamping down so deliciously around his twitching cock. It sends him over the edge as well - whispering your name as if a prayer, voice hoarse with emotions neither of you could name at this very moment. 
Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your trembling cunt white, milking the soul out of him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forming around his base as some truly animalistic part of himself fucks his seed into you - a promise, he likes to think.
“I’m serious about the dream.”
Almost as gentle as that one. 
As the haze settles, his thrusts slowing down to just shallow grinds, a fragile silence envelopes the room as neither of you speak. Because maybe no other words were needed. 
And right now, morning sunlight harsh on his skin, strong arms pulling you warm body flush against his, no one but you two in this quiet world - he doesn’t think he’d like to be anywhere else.
All is well in your little heaven.
- GOJO, GETO, Choso, SUNA, ATSUMU, Tsukishima, Kuroo, EREN
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A/N. Bro it took longer to think of what to write than to write this. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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ok in the script of moretti family comic eddie has one line which is literally "marriage is the worst thing that can happen to a person" and now i feel so sorry for writing him into falcone polycule like im so so sorry baby u should be free & not to be drawn into this viscous tangle of snakes
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gurorori · 9 months
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so um
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catboyieejeno · 5 months
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.・゜゜・・゜゜・..・゜゜・★
cw: soft dom! mingyu x slight pillow princess! reader, fem! reader, pwp, oral (fem and male receiving), slight overstimulation, praise, mentions of cum, npr
18+ minors do not interact !
boyfriend! mingyu who is completely obsessed with burying his face in your sopping cunt until your fingers are weaved between his locks and you’re coming multiple times in a row. he won’t let up, not because he’s being mean or punishing you with overstimulation—although occasionally, that is the case—but because you, his sweet, pretty girl, deserves nothing less than his tongue lapping restlessly at your folds. It’s embarrassingly easy for him to get pussy-drunk, grinding himself into the bed as he goes down on you for well over an hour. By the time you plead out desperately for his cock, he’s already left a thick puddle of his cum on the spot in the bed he was fucking his length into. 
kim mingyu is a simple man of simple pleasures, some of which include your cries and sputters, your trembling thighs and heavy pants, and the infrequent, though appreciated, indiscernible blabbers of praise you manage to let out through drooling lips. when you can actually manage to form words, that is. 
you are his pillow princess, whether you bestowed that title upon yourself or not. The chances of you going down on him? slim. giving him head is a rare occurrence; in fact, you’d have to beg him to let you try, plead with him to stuff his considerably large length down your throat. you’d have to convince him you need him there so bad, that you want him to feel just as good as he makes you feel, but even then, his responses are rehearsed. 
“but baby, i don’t need all that, let me treat you instead,” 
“‘wanna do all the work for you, honey. you deserve it.” 
“you really want me to fill your mouth up baby? first you have to come twice on my tongue,” 
“I’d rather come in you, sweet girl.” 
“s’too big for your pretty little mouth, don’ wanna hurt you,”
at first, you thought he didn’t want you to give him head at all, or that he assumed you would be bad at it. But, when you finally begged enough, your pretty boy caved and it became apparent very quickly why he was holding off for so long. from the moment he lays back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other pressing his thumb onto your swirling tongue, he knows he’s done for. watching you crawl over him, leaving kisses and licking stripes as you make your way down his torso, makes his pre-cum leak freely from his flushed tip. 
mingyu has his lip caught between his teeth, eyes glossed over in a haze. the very moment your velvety lips wrap around his head, he’s groaning out, arms and legs dropping limply onto the mattress. you have absolute power over him in that moment, and both of you are very, very aware of that. all of your insecurities dissipate as you realize he’s falling apart, melting like putty in your hands. his chest that previously rose and fell calmly is now puffing up with air he pushes out through his nostrils and the noises he’s letting out? other-fucking-wordly.
he eventually regains feeling in his hands and they rotate between holding your throat, your cheek, and simply sliding along the ridges of his abdomen. all the meanwhile, it’s him who chokes up on his words, slurring his speech. 
“please, please, please…” 
“your mouth feels s’good on me, fuck,” 
“doin’ so good, so fucking good, all for me…” 
“if you do that again, i’m not gonna last—shit.” 
“just like that, yes, baby… oh, god, you’re gonna make me—“ 
when your tongue swipes deliciously over his tip, he drags out a strangled moan, shooting his hot load into your mouth and down your throat. knees locked, toes curled, and hips bucking up into you, he throws his head back to ride out his orgasm. 
a few seconds later, his hands fly to your hair to lift you off, but in a small act of defiance for all the times you were overstimulated by him, you grab his wrists and pin them at his sides. he lets you do this because it’s so, so fucking hot to watch you have a sliver of control for once—both of you are well aware he could overpower you if he wanted to. instead, though, he laces his fingers with yours and takes what you give him like the good boy he is. it takes less than ten minutes for him to come each and every time you give him head going forward but thankfully, his stamina doesn’t betray him. he recovers while he returns the favor, devouring you and drinking up your juices as his cock that never fully softened, swells up all over again. 
⋆ ★
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maraczeks · 1 year
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newsroom rw thread pt 14
#jan 11 2023#just tell me before she gets in here PLS that's a husband afraid of his wife#can we settle who my boss is? it's me it's him PLS#🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 macs care for will knowing his history with his dad and ohhh she's so ☹️☹️☹️ in this ep#you know i think tonight is one of those nights you should just do everything i tell you to- how is that different from any other night? pls#if jim is back WHY is jerry still there#emily says so much with her jawline lifts and blinks and eyebrows ohh#forget about f*cking TWEET PLEASE#mac and will are insane and so complicated and messy and complex i love them could watch them forever#you can seeee don falling in love with her oh mac mac mac mac mac she loves him so much god#mac and sloan calling will and don pal 😭😭#charlie's acapella group doing weed bye 😭😭😭#i love her so much oh my god#i know this one very well ndncnxbzbxbxncn#and her talking abt his relationship w the audience#throwing UP she's so meow meow coded#SLOAN GOING TO BEAT UP THE GUY OHHHHH SLAY#after the show i'm gonna tell you about the bonnie and clyde of prank callers and he told her he died he FACE IG N YGOD HER FACE SHE LOOKS B#SO BRIJEN FIR HIM OH MY GOODSDDDDDD AND SHE HAS NO WORDS SHE JUST NODS AT HIM AND THEIR STARES CLINGING TO EACH ITHER#her desperation when he's not responding and his eyes oh my godddd#and she was looking up heart attacks during the show ihhh my god her face her heart breaking for him is so clear#i'm fully thinking in emily's voice now it's so bad i just had an entire ten minute conversation w myself in the shower in her voice please#jan 12 2023#2.06 don't remember anything except nina wills breakup YASSSSS#literally why is jerry still there if jim is there#the reindeee humor during the red team meeting ceels forced but :(#why is he >:((((( why is he looking for focus groups#mac drivinggggg oh#regular negligence HAHDHDH#DONTCALL HIM HINEY I HATE THISSSSSS is
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stillmonsterz · 1 month
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you know i'm down
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pairing: jay x reader
genre: smut
summary: it's march 2020 and you're stuck in the house with your stepfather during lockdown. can the two of you keep it together?
warnings: stepcest, unprotected sex, swearing, dubcon, panty-sniffing, virus mention, COVID implication (?),
word count: 3.8k
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“Yeah. Yeah, I know, things are getting crazy, but try to keep your head up, yeah? You’ll be safe,” Jay said into his phone, his forehead creasing as he spoke. His newly wedded wife had taken a trip to visit her mother shortly after their marriage, but now the government was advising that she stay where she was. The news was scaring her, and it scared Jay, too, but he couldn’t let her know that. He was her steadfast protector, her bastion, and so he reassured her that everything would be okay.
“And you’ll take care of her too, yes?” she asked firmly, referring to her daughter.
“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of her like she’s mine,” Jay said, rubbing his forehead. “I promise.”
“You’re so good with her,” his wife said. “You know, she really likes you, right?”
“I really like her, too,” Jay said softly, and it was the truth. His wife and her daughter had moved in with him three short months ago, and neither of them had caused trouble. On the contrary: Jay wished that he could see more of her daughter so they could be closer. He wanted to be a good stepfather, but she was always holed up inside of her room.
They exchanged goodbyes, I love yous, and promises to stay safe, and then Jay was alone on the couch with his own thoughts. If he sat there for too long, stewing in fear, he would lose his mind. Jay turned the television on and checked the news. They were strongly advising people to stay put for at least two weeks, and Jay made a mental note to coordinate with his employees about this in a few hours. No point riling people up and forcing them to worry about work so early in the day.
Jay was sitting on the couch with lips set in a line when you had tentatively crept down the stairs, worry etched on your features. He turned the television off and assessed you carefully. You were so similar to your mother in stature and facial features, but Jay doubted that his wife would ever don the dolphin shorts and hoodie combination you were so fond of wearing. Of course, you made it look cute. You shuffled over to him, wringing your hands. 
“Mom really can’t come back?” you asked, hovering near the other end of the couch.
Jay nodded, setting his phone on the side table. “Yeah, they really want to curb the spread of the virus,” he said, smoothing his hands down his legs. “She’ll be okay, though. There’s a lot of food at her mom’s house, and she won’t be alone. It’ll only be two weeks.”
Your lower lip trembled, and you looked away from Jay as you tried to calm yourself down. You rubbed your hands along your arms, and Jay could see that you had goosebumps. “You don’t think she got it, do you?” you asked in a wavering voice. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” Jay said quietly. “Look at me.” When you refused, obstinately staring at the ground, his voice became firm. “Look at me.”
You lifted your head, and he spread his arms and gestured for you to come to him. He wrapped you in his embrace, rubbing your back. You leaned on him, kneeling in between his legs as you hugged him tightly. “There’s no way that she caught it,” Jay said soothingly. “She’s been with her family the entire time. She hardly went off their property.”
“I’m just so worried. I’ve never lived through anything like this before,” you said falteringly, pulling away so you could look at his face. Jay knew you were looking at him to check for chinks in his armor, a sign of doubt. He pulled his features into a convincing mask of resoluteness and confidence. 
“It’ll all be okay,” he said, running his thumb along your cheek. “Look on the bright side, you won’t have to commute to school for two weeks.”
You chuckled, looking down as you smiled. “You’re right, Jay.” Jay liked that you didn’t try to call him Dad or Daddy. When he had first met you after a few months of dating your mom, he had been pleased to find that you weren’t the archetypal bratty stepdaughter. Instead, you were sweet and intelligent, and you hardly asked him for a thing. Jay stroked your hair comfortingly and kissed your forehead. 
“You wanna watch a movie together? Would you like that?” You nodded your assent, and Jay reached around for the remote and went on Netflix. He put something lighthearted on for you, and shortly after the movie started you rested your head on his chest. Belatedly, Jay realized that it might be somewhat inappropriate to hold you like this, with you curled up in his arms, kneeling between his legs. But you were so worried, and you needed a guiding figure there, so what else could he do?
Jay continued to rub your back as you watched the movie together. At some point, though, Jay’s attention permanently moved from the film onto you, and he studied your features closely. His wife was a very pretty woman, and started to realize that her daughter was a very pretty girl. 
Maybe this lockdown wouldn't be so bad, if he could get closer to you.
The next day, Jay took stock of everything in the kitchen. Thankfully, they tended to bulk-buy, so he didn’t think that they would have to go shopping for two weeks. Yesterday, you hadn’t eaten dinner, blaming your nerves for curbing your appetite. He decided to surprise you with a pancake breakfast. He smiled as he imagined you eating pancakes. You’d look so adorable with full cheeks…
As he started to gather the ingredients, he heard footsteps padding on the tiled floor. 
“What are you doing?” you asked quietly. Jay turned to face you, and his breath caught. You were rubbing your eyes, looking around the kitchen, and you were so cute. Jay swallowed thickly and returned his attention to the array of supplies in front of him. 
“Just making breakfast,” he mumbled. “Pancakes.” 
“Can I help?” He heard you come closer, and he could smell your body wash. It was fruity and playful; something from Victoria’s Secret or Lush, a store like that. It went so well with your natural fragrance, Jay had to resist the urge to sniff the air.
“Nah, it’s fine,” Jay replied, kneeling down to find where the pans were stashed. It was his house, but his wife had reorganized the kitchen to her liking, so he had trouble finding things. 
“I want to help,” you said, and Jay looked up at you. A mistake. How could he refuse those earnest eyes of yours?
“Yeah, sure,” he said, hoping he came off as nonchalant. He gave you some instructions, well-aware that his voice was somewhat strained. Jay watched you bustle around the kitchen, shamelessly checking you out. Guilt nipped at him, but he reasoned that it was just looking. There was nothing wrong with looking. And when you wore little shorts like that, you were asking to be looked at, really. 
Jay snapped himself out of it and returned his attention to cooking. He flipped the pancakes without using a spatula, and you clapped. “I wish I could do that,” you said. 
“Here, I’ll show you.” Jay wrapped your hand around the end of the pan and covered it with his own. “You have to utilize a certain flick of the wrist, but put pressure on your index finger, your middle finger, and your thumb…” When you successfully flipped a pancake with his help, you giggled, and he felt warm. Like a proud father, he thought. Just like a proud father.
As you two ate breakfast together, he could see your happiness returning. You must have been so worried about your mother, and he was glad to see you shoveling pancakes in your mouth and laughing about some video your friend had sent you. 
“You’ve got syrup all over your mouth,” Jay said, smiling. Before you could wipe it yourself, Jay wet his thumb and wiped it off, relishing in the opportunity to touch your lips. “I bet you were such a messy kid,” he murmured.
“I was,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh. “My mom was always running after me with Wet Wipes.” 
Jay chuckled at the thought, retracting his thumb. “I’m sure she didn’t mind. You were probably a cute kid, too.”
You groaned. “I was so cute. I have no clue what happened.”
You got pretty, Jay thought. 
“You think I’m pretty?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips, and Jay realized that he had carelessly complimented you. 
Jay cleared his throat. “Of course you are,” he said, desperately trying to center himself. “You look just like your mother.”
You nodded, still looking pleased with the compliment, and Jay could feel his heart racing out of his shirt. You were going to be the death of him.
The next day, after dinner, (another collaboration between the two of you), you had announced that you would do the laundry. Jay shook his head and handed his plate to you. “You do the dishes,” he said, smiling slyly. “I’ll take care of the laundry.”
You begrudgingly took the plate and stacked it on top of yours. “I hate doing the dishes.”
Jay laughed and ruffled your hair as he walked past you. “Doing things you hate builds character,” he called behind his shoulder. 
As soon as he got upstairs, he made a mad dash to your bedroom to retrieve your laundry basket. He didn’t have a lot of time. Jay opened your door and bent down to examine the white hamper. Pawing through your clothes, he shakingly retrieved a pair of your panties. It was painfully conservative. Weren’t girls your age supposed to be wanton little sluts? He held it up, examining it closely. Common sense told him to put it back, morality told him to put it in the hamper, and his own conscience was screaming at him to just drop the fucking panties. But something stronger compelled him to hold the panties to his nose and sniff them deeply. Your scent was intoxicating, and he sighed. Jay took a few more deep sniffs before he dropped the panties back into the hamper and walked down to the laundry room. 
It was lockdown, he concluded as he set the basket down. Lockdown was driving him crazy, turning him into a libidinous beast. Never mind that it had only been three days - three days was enough. Three days of being forced to watch as your stepdaughter pranced around in shorts that just barely hid her tight little ass, of having to smell her, of knowing that there was pussy that he couldn’t get to…that would drive a monk to drink. As long as he didn’t act on it, Jay reasoned, he’d be fine. 
-
Over the next week, you and Jay had fallen into a routine. You ate breakfast together, then you dispersed to your separate rooms- you had to do online school, and Jay had to navigate running a business over Zoom. You would eat lunch together, discussing the virus, your problems, or just comfortably sitting in silence. 
Then you squirrel away back to your room. When that happened, Jay would generally do two things in an interchangeable order. He would either retire to his office and read a business management book or go over his emails, or he would rub his dick raw in his ensuite bathroom to the thought of stepdaughter pussy. Pornography wasn’t necessary; he could just close his eyes and imagine you in those stupid shorts, imagine you taking them off and crawling towards him, imagine his hands groping your forbidden body.
 After that, he would cook dinner for the two of you, and you would watch a movie together. You liked to rest your head on his shoulder, saying that that’s how you and your mother would watch movies. So Jay would wrap his arm around you, his other hand clenching the armrest of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white as he tried to fight off his basest urges. After that, you would go to your room, and Jay would go to his room and edge himself for half an hour. 
Then, he would text your mother and tell her that he loved her.
A week after the lockdown had been announced, Jay checked his appearance in the mirror in the living room and frowned. He had a meeting in an hour, but he noticed that he was developing a unibrow. Normally, his wife would help him pluck the hairs.
You walked downstairs and noticed Jay scowling at himself. “What’s wrong?” you asked, standing next to him. By now, just your scent went straight to his cock, making it stir, and Jay sighed.
“Your mom’s not around, so now I’m turning into a caveman,” he said, pointing at his eyebrows. 
Your face brightened. “I can pluck them for you!”
Jay’s face fell, but he quickly put on a mask of indifference. “Oh, you don’t have to, I can figure it out,” he said, waving his hand.
You reached out and grabbed his hand. “Please, Jay? It’ll be so fun. It’ll be therapeutic. Please?”
You were the devil, he decided, the devil cloaked in the vestments of a college student. “Fine,” he relented, and you cheered.
Jay wearily stood next to the mirror as you sprinted up the stairs to get your tweezers. You bounced back down shortly, opening and closing the tweezers with the steeliness of a surgeon. 
“Sit down,” you ordered, pointing at the couch in the living room. Jay obeyed, sitting down on the far end of the couch. You straddled his waist.
“What are you doing?” Jay asked, his voice somewhat panicked.
“I have to get close to you,” you replied. Jay realized that his reaction was unwarranted and he was doing a shit job of acting like he didn’t want to fuck you, so he nodded. 
As you plucked his eyebrow hairs, Jay rested his hand on her waist to stabilize you. He stared at you as you worked; you were so lovely when you focused. Jay decided not to fight it, just for now. He languidly rubbed a circle around your waist as you plucked his eyebrows, and his other hand rested on your knee. If Jay tried, he could almost forget who you were. He could just pretend like there was no relation, that you were a stranger, that it wasn’t wrong to feel like this.
“Done!” You put the tweezers on the side table and examined his brows by tilting his head this way and that. Jay continued looking at you. He leaned back so that he was resting fully on the armrest, and your chest pressed against his due to the slight shift in position.
Jay’s voice was low and rough. “How does it look?” His hand still caressed your waist over your hoodie, and he noted that you made no move to get up.
“Very nice,” you replied, both hands still on his face. “You look very handsome now.”
Jay smiled slightly, looking you up and down. “Yeah?”
You looked in his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”
Jay wasn’t sure who had leaned in first, but he did know that he was the one who deepened the kiss. You tasted incredible, and you weren’t a bad kisser, either. Your lips were soft and you took your time; your hands still cupped his cheeks. Jay’s hand slipped from your waist and worked its way up your hoodie, resting on your stomach. His other hand crawled up your leg, and he was endlessly grateful that you wore those dolphin shorts all the time. 
You were the one who probed your tongue at the entrance of his mouth, and you were the one who ran it along his teeth. He stroked his tongue along yours, tilting his head even further. Your hands slipped from his cheeks to rest on his shoulders.
Strangely enough, as he made out with his stepdaughter, Jay felt no qualms. All he could focus on was how good it felt, on how warm your little mouth was, on the way your body tensed as he ran his hands over you. Jay brought his hand higher, from your stomach to your ribs, until it was resting just below your breasts. He waited for you to pull away, to tell him to stop, but when you didn’t, he continued. Jay’s hand cupped your breast, and he briefly broke the kiss.
“You didn’t wear a bra?” he asked in an accusatory tone, kneading your breast. 
You shook your head.
“You wicked little minx.”
You shrugged, placing your hands behind his neck. “I normally don’t wear bras around the house. I mean, it’s just you and me in here.”
“No,” Jay whispered. “It’s not ‘just’ me.” Jay leaned in to kiss you with renewed fervor. His other hand slipped up into your shorts, fondling your upper thigh. Gently, Jay began to push you down onto the couch, until he was resting his full body weight on top of you. His hand groped at your chest, and he used both of his hands to pull your hoodie off. Finally, finally, he would get to see your body without a massive piece of fabric hiding it.
Jay moaned as soon as he saw your naked torso. He momentarily stopped kissing you to suck your tits. Both of his hands ran up and down your thighs, and he relished in your little gasps and whimpers. Jay took his mouth off of your breast and looked up at you. “You like that?”
You nodded, your face contorted in pleasure. “I like it, Jay.”
You had all but given him the green light to do whatever he wanted to your body, and almost without his knowing he began grinding his hips against yours. After leaving sloppy kisses all over your breasts, Jay kissed you again, sucking your tongue over and over again. 
He continued to rut against your clothed pussy, the friction assuaging the painful stiffness he felt in his cock. Jay knew he was pathetic. He knew how degenerate, how desperate, how sick he was. Only a freak would dry hump their stepdaughter on the couch. He didn’t even last an entire week. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to fully care, let alone to stop. Jay ground his crotch into yours, pressing you deeper into the couch, and he groaned in your mouth. 
His hands were all over you now, stroking your back, your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and he was dimly aware of your own hands snaking up his shirt. 
Jay broke the kiss again, sweat dripping down his nose. “You can’t tell anyone,” Jay said frantically as he began to unbuckle his belt. “Got that? Not your friends, not your classmates, not your mom. Do you understand me?”
You nodded, but that wasn’t enough. “Do you understand me, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you said hoarsely, your lips already swollen. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Jay tossed his belt to the side and tugged his jeans down. “Our little secret, right?”
You shimmied out of your shorts. “Our little secret.”
Jay slid your panties down your legs and parted your legs, pushing one up the couch and leaving the other to hang off of the side. He glanced at you as he worked his cock a few times. “Are you a virgin?”
You shook your head. 
“Good.”
“Why?”
“I’d never fuck a virgin the way I’m about to fuck you,” Jay said. Your eyes widened in apprehension, and Jay smiled.
He pushed himself inside of you roughly. As soon as he felt your pussy tighten around his cock, its warmth enveloping him, he swore. “Oh, fuck.” Jay kept your legs pushed open as he inches himself into you. At first, he shallowly thrusts into you with about half of his length. You’re already shuddering like a whore, whining and shaking, but you aren’t wet enough for his liking. Jay reached his hand down and stroked at the area above your vagina lips, eventually finding your clitoris. He rubbed it, just enough to get you nice and sopping wet. It didn’t take long, either; you must have been as pent-up as he had been, judging by the way you were gasping. Even just a few inches had you stuttering out some words that would make your mother blush.
He pulled out of you slightly, swirling his hips, before slamming his cock into you again. You moaned, a sound so gorgeous that he had to continue. Jay pounded your pussy mercilessly, his hands keeping your legs split open. His balls slapped against your thighs almost painfully as he kept up his pace. 
“Should have done this at the start,” Jay huffed. “Should have been inside you the second lockdown started.”
You opened your eyes. “Why didn’t you?”
Good question. Why hadn’t he just fucked you like this when you had come running to him for comfort? Why had he bothered waiting? For propriety? For politeness? None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered now was the feeling of your pussy gripping his cock. 
Jay smiled slightly as he imagined how your mother would react to this: her daughter splayed out on the couch, her tits bouncing up and down, her hand covering her mouth so her moans won’t echo all over the house, and her stepfather in between her legs, fucking her ruthlessly. The scary thing was, Jay didn’t think he could stop even if your mother had walked in. Your pussy felt too good, too tight, too warm, too inviting. 
You were so wet that Jay could hear it, his cock making obscene noises as it ravaged your hole. Jay pulled out of you, breathing heavily. He dragged you from the couch and laid you flat on the rug. 
“On all fours,” he said raggedly. “Now.”
You were weak, but you obeyed his instructions, displaying your red, aggravated pussy for him. Jay mounted you and fucked you like a dog, chasing his orgasm. His hands groped around your chest and he grabbed your tits while he pounded you. He leaned his head back and let out a primal moan.
Soon, your arms gave out and you collapsed onto the floor. Jay didn’t pull out of you, couldn’t pull out of you. He braced his arms on either side of you and slammed into you, pressing his entire body weight onto you. 
He felt his orgasm approaching, and he sped up, grunting and groaning. Jay felt like he would die if he didn’t cum, and he fucked into you mindlessly. When his orgasm hit, he let out a strangled scream. He could feel the pleasure from his cock all the way to his fingertips; his hairline tingled as he emptied himself out in your pussy. 
Jay didn’t know what he would do next. He didn’t know how you would act around each other. But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had to do this again and again with you.
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