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#small highlights but PLEASE
natsmagi · 4 months
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sora put on a mugi avatar and its making me fucking cry. Sora just wanted a hug from shisho
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daz4i · 2 months
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i feel like. ppl tend to take "mori isn't as bad as fanon makes him" - a very true statement - and run just a bit too far with it, and end up ignoring the bad shit he HAS done. i'm not even talking abt the pedo stuff or even killing ppl (mostly bc i don't see ppl actually ignoring those) like genuinely just. the manipulation the grooming the putting children in danger or captivity. he is literally a mafia boss ofc he'll do this sort of things. ik he can be goofy and fun but guys 😭 you're just removing his layers in the other direction c'mon
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ovaruling · 1 year
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i rly rly rly rly hate being tall lol
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daisychainblades · 9 months
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Video incoming!!
This one has some of my favorite bits and it’s the longest one yet
youtube
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avvocarlo · 11 months
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roommates have officially caused me to go rogue and now I'm going Mean Guy Mode
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hyruviandoctor · 2 years
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New stream vod is up! Come check out what it's like to be a cat lost in a robot world in Stray!
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squishy-min-mochi · 10 months
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It’s important to recognise that Barbie (2023) criticises both the patriarchy AND the matriarchy. Yes, the Ken’s are just accessories to the Barbies. Yes, they don’t have any say in the government they live under. That’s the point, you’re supposed to feel awful, you’re supposed to want the Kens to have their own agency, you’re supposed to want equality. The Barbie movie explicitly states that the way Barbie treats Ken is wrong, so much so that once he finds a safe space for his masculinity and individual identity he’s so excited to share it with the other Kens.
But they go overboard and replace a matriarchy with a patriarchy and now the same issue exists but in reverse. That’s the POINT!! THATS THE POINT!!! Barbie is not anti-men it’s pro equality PLEASE understand this
13th Aug 2023 UPDATE:
Heeeeey howdy!!
Due to the IMMENSE comments and discussion on this post (thanks ya’ll!!) I’ve decided to update my post with my recent opinions and hopefully clearer explanations!!
First, my original post only considers a very small and very vague analysis of the film!!
Since making this I've read all your comments and learned quite a bit about the matriarchy as it appears in human civilisation. Originally, I was pitting the patriarchy and the matriarchy against each other as though the results of their implementation were equal in the film.
They were not!! Below is the definition of matriarchy I’ll be working off of.
Matriarchy Simple Definition;
Matriarchy is a social system in which women hold the primary power positions in roles of authority. In a broader sense it can also extend to moral authority, social privilege and control of property.
There's a lot to talk about in the Barbie film that would fit better in an essay, so I'll try and condense it into this;
To me, Barbie (2023) is a film about the female experience and the shared connection between women that persists through childhood and adulthood, support and harassment, suffering and joy, mother and daughter.
It uses Barbie as its figurehead because of the immense societal and political impact the doll has had on women, both good and bad (as explained in the film).
The male experience as seen in Barbie (2023) is not the sole focus of the film- rather, it's an accessory (as the Kens are) to Barbie's story, and a necessary aspect of exploration to truly highlight the importance of individualism and healthy personal exploration.
I want to make clear that I in no way think the treatment of the Kens was just as bad as the treatment of the Barbies. I also still agree that the matriarchy fostered by the Barbies wasn’t good for the Kens.
Additionally, I’m aware that this take on Barbie (2023) works strictly within the assumed heteronormative boundaries of gender. There is a lot of nuance in the Barbie film and I don’t think everything can be covered or explained in on Tumblr post— but I hope this clarification helps!!
I hope you're all coming to your own conclusions and analysis of the film in a way that makes sense to you. And for those of you engaging in online conversations and discourse about it, I hope you're keeping yourself and others happy and safe!!!
Much love to you all!! < 3
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gallusrostromegalus · 2 months
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My housemate reminded me of a flashbulb memory I have that I really wish I had a photograph of because it would be a magnificent image to inflict on the internet at large with Zero Context, but I'll try to describe it here, and then draw it after dinner.
Image Description:
As seen from about three feet off the ground: Interior, the den of an american suburban house built at the height of the atomic age and still decorated like it years later. There's dark wood paneling about halfway up the walls that offsets the almost neon pink-orange light of late sunset visible through the large window. Every object in the room is highlighted by the last of the sunlight. The only other light in the room is a TV set that was manufactured the same year Howdy Doody debuted on air, now broadcasting PBS Newshour in black and white.
Closest to the viewer, there is a small end table with a Nearly Full Martini glass, and a Half-empty glass Martini Pitcher, indicating that two of the five martinis it holds have been poured out.
Just behind it, an old man sits in a chair that was bright green and yellow when it was new but is now more Grellow. The man is in his mid-sixites, somewhat heavyset, with a full head of snow-white hair and thick glasses. He's wearing a dark brown tweed suit with leather elbow patches, and a white cotton button-up. He's watching the news with a calm and dispassionate demeanor. Tired, but still engrossed with the world's events. He's wearing dark brown penny loafers and garish argyle socks.
Behind him is a couch that is a matched set with the armchair, with the same Grellow chevron pattern, but there is a very large crochet afghan that has been spread out over the back to be decorative and maybe protect the couch from it's current occupant: a 120lb Wolf Hybrid.
She's seated lengthwise on the couch, like she had also been watching PBS Newshour, posed like a sphynx. She's close in wieght to the man, and definitely taller than him if she stands up, with a dark gray agouti coat and a bit of white countershading from the trace of domestic dog in her. She's turned her head to the viewer, bright yellow eyes focused on them, and the fur of her head and neck haloed with the sunset. She is pleased to see the veiwer, which means most of the teeth in her lower jaw are visible in her canine grin. The effect is very menacing if you don't know her.
Clutched rather neatly between her front paws is a second, identical martini glass, only not nearly quite so full as the old man's.
Title: "Oh, I didn't think you'd be back for another hour/GODDAMIT EDWIN"
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confessedlyfannish · 8 months
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DP x DC Writing Prompt #5
Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.
After a moment, the door opens.
"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.
"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.
"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."
Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.
"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"
"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.
For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.
Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.
Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"
"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.
"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.
"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.
"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.
"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.
"He did," Jazz says.
Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.
Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.
A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.
This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.
Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.
In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.
"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.
Damian stops dead in his tracks.
"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.
Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.
"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.
Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"
Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.
"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.
"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.
Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.
"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.
"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.
Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.
Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.
Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.
They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.
"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.
"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.
Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."
"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."
"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.
"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."
Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.
"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"
"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.
"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."
"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."
"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."
Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.
"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."
Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.
Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.
Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.
Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.
A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.
His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.
"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"
"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.
He never stopped practicing, after all.
"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."
"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."
Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.
"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.
"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."
"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."
Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.
"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."
"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."
"Mr. Wayne-"
"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."
Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."
"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."
For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.
"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."
"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.
He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.
Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."
Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."
Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."
"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."
Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."
"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."
"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.
"Even then."
Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.
"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.
"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.
But for his brother, Danny will wake up.
"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."
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lqvesoph · 2 months
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She’s WHOSE daughter??? || LN4
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gif by @quadrantslandonorris
lando norris x webber!reader
summary: During a trip to Daniel’s farm house, you find an unexpected visitor standing in your best friend’s backyard
part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
masterlist | taglist
Part 2
"So glad you could make it!", Danny called and wrapped you into a hug as soon as he opened the front door. "You know I love it here!", you laughed and stepped into his home in Perth, Australia.
It was Monday before the Australian Grand Prix and Daniel had invited you to spend a few days at his farm before flying across the country to Melbourne.
You spotted an unfamiliar pair of shoes next to Daniel‘s million others but didn’t think much of it. Maybe he bought another pair.
"Daniel, tell me again where the- oh hi", you heard a familiar british accent, one that you have missed over the last three long weeks since Bahrain and turned around to find a dripping wet and shirtless Lando in the glass door that led out to the backyard. His curls were dripping shining droplets of water onto his defined and tanned chest from which you couldn’t teat your eyes away.
"The towels are in the drawer, mate", Daniel spoke, snapping you out of your trance. "Thanks", Lando mumbled but didn’t move from his place.
You all stood there in silence for a few seconds before you cleared your throat. "I… uh- I-I‘ll go to my room", you stuttered, taking the suitcase and quickly making your way up the marble stairs.
"Why didn’t you tell me she was coming?", you heard Lando hiss. "Why would you have wanted me to?", Daniel asked nonchalant, and you knew you shouldn’t eavesdrop but you couldn’t help it, wanting to know Lando‘s response. "I- I don’t know", he stuttered defensively before tapping over to the drawer to get himself a towel.
Truth was, his small crush on you grew over the last couple of weeks. He followed your every move on Instagram and Twitter, even scrolling down to pictures from 2016, finding a few of you and baby Oscar during his Formula 3 career or little you in Daniel‘s Red Bull from 2017. He‘s probably memorized your highlights at this point.
Adding to that he asked Pietra for her advice on your best songs and your discography has been on repeat for three weeks straight.
You put your suitcase next to your bed and plopped down on it, only now noticing your racing heart.
During your deep dive through Lando’s Instagram account, you obviously had seen a few pictures of him shirtless, the one from Bahrain being the set of pictures you were hung up on the most, even saving one of them. But jeez… none of those pictures did the live picture justice!
You opened your eyes and took a deep breath before rummaging around your suitcase to find the black bikini you had packed for your trip.
You put it on and took your towel, phone and sunglasses and made your way downstairs. Lando and Daniel sat by the pool on two sun beds, playing some sort of card game. Both were shirtless and had matching bucket hats on their curls. You chuckled at the sight and placed your towel on the third sun bed.
Lando looked up from the game and subtly looked you over, his eyes lingering at your pushed up breast, that were barely covered by the tight black bikini top, a little longer than appropriate but you couldn’t find yourself caring. The opposite actually, the little hesitation brought a smirk to your face.
You lay down on your stomach on the sun bed and closed your eyes. "If I fall asleep, please put some sunscreen on my back in an hour or two", you mumbled, getting a hum from both boys next to you.
You couldn’t even begin to explain how much you have missed the Australian sun.
*~**~*
You didn’t even notice you fell asleep until you were woken up by a pair of warm hands rubbing your back. Guess the flight has been more exhausting than you thought.
You lifted your head up slightly, still a little dazed from the sleep. "Heyy, good morning", a soft british accent spoke over you.
Lando.
Then you started noticing a few other things around you. For example your hair that was wrapped in a loose bun, one that you definitely didn’t do yourself.
"I put your hair up so it wouldn’t stick on the sunscreen", he said, almost as if he had read your thoughts. "Thanks", you mumbled, then you frowned. "How did you-"
"I have two younger sisters, so I know a little about hair styles", Lando chuckled and kneaded your shoulders while rubbing in the sunscreen. The small action made you groan a little. "Feels good", you muttered.
"I can tell", he spoke and you could hear the smirk on his face, so you kicked your leg up to hit his back. "Owh", he let out and broke out in laughter after. You couldn’t help but join in as well and pushed yourself up on your elbows to look around you.
You noticed the missing sunglasses on your face when squinting to see against the setting sun but quickly found them on the table next to you.
"Daniel is getting the grill ready and Heidi has just arrived a few minutes ago", Lando told you and you turned your head to meet his eyes. But got quickly distracted by his tanned chest. Your eyes flickering down and stayed there for a second longer than necessary, before looking back up into his green eyes and only now realizing how close your faces were to each other.
His gaze flickered down to your lips before finding your eyes again.
"Hey dipshit, dinner is almost ready!", Daniel called from the path between the pool section and the little hut with a fire place. "We’ll be there in a second!", Lando called back, not tearing his eyes away from yours.
Your eyes darted down to his plumb lips. "We probably should…", you whispered, letting your sentence uncompleted. Lando nodded but still kept his gaze you. "Yeah, we probably should", he agreed.
The two of you kept each other gaze for a few seconds longer before looking down at the same time and clearing your throats. You grabbed your black shorts and quickly put them over your bikini bottoms, feeling your heart beating fast in your chest and a small throbbing in your lower region. A quick stolen glance at Lando told you, your interaction also left its mark on him.
He cleared his throat another time before standing up and grabbing a baby blue loose dress shirt to put over his shoulders, leaving the buttons undone.
Together you made your way over to the fireplace, where you found Heidi and Daniel next to a bluetooth box that played relaxing music.
"Hey, honey!!", Heidi called and immediately came over to hug you. You smiled and wrapped your arms around the girl who has been like an older sister to you for the longest time.
"It’s so good to see you again!", she smiled and pushed a few strands of hair behind your ear. "Your hair has gotten so long!" You laughed and sat down at the set table.
Daniel looked at Lando with a knowing smirk, whereupon Lando rammed his elbow into the older guy’s ribs.
*~**~*
As the night came, the temperatures got chilly, even in Australia. You shivered a little even if the fire spent a little warmth.
"You cold?", Lando muttered, leaning over the armrest of his chair. You looked over at him, getting lost for a second in the way half of his face was light up by the fire light.
You hummed and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself.
"Take my hoodie", he suggested, pulling the lavender colored hoodie from his chair. "Thanks", you smiled.
From the corner of your eyes you saw how Daniel gave you a rather knowing glance but you chose to ignore it.
That was until he didn’t give you another option.
"Y/n, you wanna come and help me inside?", he asked but it sounded more like a demand. You nodded and stood up from your seat before following Daniel inside.
All while Lando’s eyes never left you.
Daniel was waiting for you by the kitchen counter. "What are you doing?", he wanted to know. You shrugged, knowing exactly what he was talking about.
"He’s cute", you simply replied.
"You know I love you like my little sister but Lando’s one of my best mates. And I already know that he’s got quite the crush on you, it’s fairly obvious so I gotta make sure that this is coming from your side as well and isn’t some sort of joke flirting", the australian explained.
You crossed your arms in front of your chest. "It’s not, I really do think he’s cute", you nodded.
"Does he know who your dad is?", Daniel pressed further, knowing this was some sort of make-or-break question to you.
Given the history of boyfriends you’ve had and loads of your early ones, always dating you for your father, you’ve started to not tell people about your father. Not until you were sure, they were here for you.
Your silence gave Daniel his answer.
"If you like him, why didn’t you then?", he wanted to know. "Because I want to get to know him before! I met him once three weeks ago, do you expect me to just go like "Hi, I’m Y/n, nice to meet you. By the way I’m Mark Webber’s daughter"?? I haven’t exactly spent a lot of time with him", you muttered.
"Just… don’t lead him on. I haven’t seen him this nervous over a girl in a long time", Daniel sighed and opened his arms. "C’mere."
*~**~*
Even though the night got very late, you were up incredibly early the next day, still having to adjust to the eastern australian timezone.
As quietly as possible you walked down the stairs to the kitchen, wearing a pair of jogging shorts and Lando’s hoodie from the previous night which was incredibly comfortable and even smelled like him.
You grabbed yourself a glass of water and sat down crisscrossed on a patio chair.
The morning was still a little fresh, the sun just barely leaking out from the horizon.
"Bit early, isn’t it?", a british accent spoke from behind you. You smiled before turning around to meet Lando’s sleepy eyes.
He stood in the doorway, long gray joggers and a black hoodie, similar to the one you were wearing. His curls were a mess on top of his head as he ruffled through them.
"I could say the same to you", you countered, making the boy smile. "I couldn’t sleep, still adjusting to the timezone", he told you, sitting down on the chair next to you.
You nodded in agreement. "Me too."
For a moment you sat in silence, both looking at the sunrise in front of you.
"You wanna go for a walk at the beach?", Lando suggested after a few minutes, looking over at you.
You considered your options for a second but didn’t see a reason not to, so you nodded and stood up.
You put your glass on the table and your phone in the hoodie pocket.
Together you took the small path that directly led from Daniel’s backyard to the beach.
"Nice hoodie by the way", Lando smirked, tugging at your sleeves. "Thanks, some random guy gave it to me last night", you replied with a giggle. "And you just take stuff from random dudes?", Lando faked a shocked tone. "Nah, only if they are cute", you smiled, making Lando go a little shy as he looked down with a smile.
When the you reached the beach, you stopped in your tracks. Closing your eyes and enjoying the breeze of the ocean.
"I’ve missed this", you muttered, taking a deep breath before opening your eyes to find Lando looking at you. "Los Angeles just isn’t quite the same."
"You said you grew up between LA and Canberra", Lando stated, whereupon you nodded. "How did you meet Oscar then? Because as far as I know he’s spent most of his teens in England. Or Daniel, who’s from the other side of the country", he asked.
"Well, Daniel I met through Red Bull. My dad used to work for them", you replied, careful as not to reveal too much. "At base?"
"Something like this, yeah."
"He’s been like an older brother to me for the longest time but Oscar being closer to me in age, resulted in us turning out like twins", you chuckled.
Lando felt a sting of jealousy when you talked about his teammate like that, knowing he had close to zero rights to feel this way but still.
"Anyway, I met him in the paddock a few years ago and we’ve been friends ever since", you concluded.
"And you’ve been into racing because of your dad?", he asked. You nodded but didn’t clarify further but instead grabbed his hand and dragged him to the ocean.
"Cmon, let’s go in", you called. "Go in??", Lando protested but let you drag him closer to the water. "It’s Australia, it’s warm", you giggled and kicked off your shoes off your feet. You let go of Lando’s hand and entered the water ankle-deep.
You looked back to see Lando taking off his shoes as well as his hoodie, leaving him in a white shirt. Then he carefully tapped the water before walking to you.
"Nice, huh?", you smiled against the rising sun, closing your eyes for a second.
Cold water splashing your back made you scream and open them again. You turned around to find Lando with a devilish grin looking at you. "Lando!!", you called and splashed the water back at him.
In only a few seconds it turned into a water war, both your clothes turning darker from the water splashes on them. Your eyes stopped at Lando’s torso, the water turning his white shirt see through. And you weren’t ashamed to admit that his defined abs distracted you just more than a little bit.
Lando used your little moment of distraction to launch himself at you and throw both of you down into the water completely. You gasped for air, his arms still wrapped around your body and you hair falling in wet strands on your face.
"Idiot!", you called, pushing your hair back to see Lando grin at you. His adorable smile, paired with the wetness of his curls made you smile as well. You put your hand on his neck, slowly pulling him closer to you.
A drop of water falling from his opened lips, mesmerizing you completely. Lando’s eyes searched yours, asking for permission to go ahead. You glance back down to his lips before nodding slightly.
Only seconds later, his lips touched yours in a gentle kiss. Your fingers went through his wet hair and pulled at the end.
His lips on yours felt like fire, and you wanted more.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, his hand holding your thigh as his other squeezed your waist. His lips slowly traveled along your jaw, making you lean your head to the side to give him more space.
You let out a little moan when he gently sucked on the spot under your ear and felt his lips curl into a smirk. Lando pulled back to look at you, your fingers stroking his neck.
You giggled slightly and leaned your forehead against his, closing your eyes for a second.
This is what happiness feels like, you thought.
���Perth, Australia
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tagged: landonorris, danielricciardo, heidiberger
yn.adams: Perth for the week
comments:
landonorris: Oh, what a pretty sunrise
> yn.adams: U think?
danielricciardo: When was that first picture taken???
> yn.adams: Today morning at about 5:30am while u were peacefully sleeping
> fan: Wait so if Daniel didn’t take that picture does that mean it was Lando???
oscarpiastri: 🤨
> fan: Oscar’s NOT a fan of this new friendship LMAO
fan: The boyfriend vibes are MAJOR on that last picture
fan: Since when are her and Lando friends???
fan: Okay but Yn and Lando would be crazy!!
> fan: I ship it, 100%
load more comments…
📍Perth, Australia
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tagged: yn.adams
landonorris: She can sing and drive
comments:
yn.adams: 2:1 for me, u can only drive
> landonorris: 🥲
> fan: LMAOOO Yn roasting Lando hahahahh
oscarpiastri: yn.adams TEXT ME NOW!!
> fan: Poor guy’s feeling left out fr
fan: Is this a soft launch mr. norriz?
> fan: wdym "soft" HE TAGGED HER!!!
fan: The sunrise…
> fan: Nah u guys don’t understand the significance of that sunrise!!
fan: Lando and Yn posting pictures of sunrises… A picture of Yn that Daniel didn’t take…
> fan: New paddock couple alert??
fan: Lando letting someone else drive and playing passenger princess???
fan: Who even is she?
fan: Does she even know what F1 is?
> fan: LMAOO
load more comments…
taglist
Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist or text be if you want to be taken off x
@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @paolexsstuff @kiskso @honethatty12 @namgification @champagneproblems17 @meko-mt @scopeiguess @bwormie @d3kstar @c-losur3 @lupitakapro @endlesssummer10
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lumenniveus · 16 days
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Calling all wild witches and handsome devils: it's time to rock 'n roll.
Hey, you, wake up a new CC set just dropped! This time @mellosakicc joined me and threw in some very wicked cool goodies for you. Everything is Base Game Compatible and optimized for potato computers. Go and build your slightly haunted Memphis studio apartments.
But only after you downloaded our small tribute here: MERGED ZIP
Mid-Century's elegance meets Gothic Kitsch in Rituals, a 50 asset large set full of stuff for your living, dining and bedrooms. Every object was lovingly (help me) hand painted by yours truly (pain... the pain...!) and I hope you have as much fun playing with it as I had making it!
Read more and get a preview below the cut
As usual, here's the catalogue of the entire thing
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And an unedited in-game screenshot
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Highlights of this set include:
a very modular set of curtains
3D wall paneling
a vanity table
a canopy bed
vintage electronics
lots of references for you to find
buy and build items ( these walls and floors are included, yes)
I playtest to my absolute limit, but I'm a one-man-team so if you end up finding bugs I missed, please send me an ask or comment on this post. That way it gets fixed asap.
1K notes · View notes
silverysongs · 1 year
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tried to watch lockwood and co and it was too scary for me :( which is very sad because I love the cozy english vibes. anyone got any good show recs?
0 notes
daisychainblades · 10 months
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Video alert!!
Part 2 of my Twilight Princess Stream Highlights is out now!!!
youtube
2 notes · View notes
leclerc-hs · 2 months
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it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16
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pairing: college!charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends with benefits!) summary: in which you and a guy in your class are friends with benefits OR you and your friends with benefits might be more? warnings: smut under the cut! thigh-riding, throat-fucking, p in v sex!, no condoms (bad!), badly translated french (pls correct me), angst, pining, NOT PROOFREAD!!!! word count: 4.8k! author's note: so i ALMOST scrapped this entire thing because i wasn't sure how i felt about it so if it sucks, i understand LOL. i had a lot of fun writing this and can see myself writing a lot of scenarios for them like before there was this many feelings involved? like maybe a spring break one shot for them, when they hooked up for first time ;) PLEASE let me hear your thoughts and any comments you have. I love hearing from you guys xoxo
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
THE WEIGHT OF his eyes bore into the back of your skull, a palpable presence as you immerse yourself in the lecture before you. It’s almost become a ritual at this point: a magnetic pull compels you to glance his way, and there he is, a smirk stretching wide across his face, as if he holds the upper hand.
In that fleeting moment where your eyes meet his verdant gaze, a fierce intensity ignites within you. It’s as if a wildfire unleashes, consuming you with an unbridled mix of desire and exasperation. Your stomach tightens with a fervent ache, betraying the absolute irritation you feel at his ability to rile you up with one look.
Internally, Charles wrestles with the urge to gaze at you as though you’ve strung the stars and moon just for him. Yet, outwardly, he remains steadfast, unwilling to reveal his vulnerability when it comes to you. Instead, he masks his emotions behind a practiced smirk—a façade. And the blushing reaction you give him almost every time, only enthuses him more.
“Arrête!” You half-shout, though it emerges more as a whispered urgency amidst the large lecture hall.
Charles leans in over his desk, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear, a proximity that sets your heart racing with a rapid intensity.
“Est-ce que je te verra ice soir?” Will I see you tonight?
You kept your head straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of him being so close, resisting the allure of his voice. 
“Peut-être.” Maybe.
At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Bernard stands tall, his expression grave as he prepares his common ‘you guys are smarter than this’ speech about the recent exam grades. He highlights the alarming fact that more than half of the class received a 70% or lower. And true to his reputation as the kindest professor, he extends an olive branch by offering retakes to those who seek improvement before dismissing the lecture.
You gather your belongings, ready to make your exit, when suddenly, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulder just as you cross the threshold of the door.
You? Aced it. Charles? Not so aced it.
Which you knew meant you were helping him study as usual.
-
You watch as Charles runs his fingers through his disheveled locks, each movement betraying a hint of frustration and determination. His lips form a subtle pout as he fixates on the study material you laid out before him, his furrowed brows highlighting the depth of his concentration.
“Mon chou, je ne pensais pas que tu m’avais invite pour ça.” I didn’t think you invited me over for this.
With a gleam in his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as he collapses on the many pillows of your bed behind him. The papers scattered across the bed threaten to take flight, but your swift reflexes saved them from soaring away into chaos.
You narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your amusement at the situation.
“Tu dois étudier.” You need to study.
Charles stares at the corners of your lips, his eyes not straying once from them even as you spoke. 
“Embrasse-moi d’abord.” Kiss me first. He nearly begs; his face almost completely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt as he laid on his back beside your cross-legged figure.
“Étudie.” Study. Your words were firm, yet you could feel your resolve slipping under the intensity of his gaze, as it traces a path from your lips to your eyes, igniting a warmth that stirred whenever he was near.
His arm reaches up behind your neck in a swift motion, too quick for you to even see it coming. His fingers grabbing the nape of your neck in a tight grip as he brings your face down to his, your body toppling over his in an unnatural position from his force. His lips collide with yours instantly, and the squeal you elicit gives him easy access to slip his tongue into your mouth. 
He groans softly against your mouth, something about how sweet your mouth tastes. The moan that escapes your lips and melded into his mouth drove him absolutely crazy. The grip on the back of your neck didn’t loosen as he held you to him, giving you no opportunity to pull away from him.
Your tank top cladded chest was pressed against the side of his body, embracing you in his warmth. You press a hand to his chest, attempting to push yourself up, but he groans against your lips in detest before loosening his grip on your neck. 
“Est-ce vraiment necessaire.” Do we have to? He begins to pepper kisses all around your face, his fingers dipping under the straps of your tank top, tracing intricate patterns of the soft skin beneath.
You slip your hand under the warmth of his hoodie, his toned muscles flexing under your cold fingertips as you trail your hand up his chest and slip one leg over him, straddling his thigh. His skin was so warm. Almost like a furnace.
He sucks in a breath, as if your touch hurt him, but really, he craved it. He wanted you everywhere. The tight leggings that adorned your body did little to prevent Charles from feeling the heat and arousal of your pussy against his thigh. A smirk widened on his lips almost instantly. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.
He could sense your contemplative thoughts by one glance at your eyes. As if you knew he needed to study, but you needed this more.
 You could barely concentrate the minute Charles sprawled onto your bed earlier, his legs spread and shorts riding up to expose the muscles of his thighs. It was even harder to think with the way his soft green eyes look up at you, and the way his fingers felt on you.
His hand trails from beneath the strap of your tank top, your hardened nipples more than visible through the thin fabric of it, to the front of your breasts.
“No bra?” His thumb rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger above the fabric of your shirt. “Planning on getting fucked, hm?” 
Your hips rut against his thigh almost instantly in response to his words. The feeling of his thigh against your clit, causing a soft moan to slip. It was then, that Charles seemed to lose all restraint as his hand grasped the side of your neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb resting in the center of your neck. He flexed his thigh, his eyes gleaming at the sight of your blown out pupils.
“Regarde-toi,” Look at you. He edged you on. “Just wanna ride m’thigh, yeah?” 
Your hips move in their own rhythm, unable to stop. It just feels too good. You nodded repeatedly as you lean over, pressing your chest to his, as he claims your lips once again. His hot, tongue sliding against yours as the stubble of his facial hair scratches your chin.
You struggle, losing the rhythm of your hips until Charles slid his hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. “C’mon mon chou, tu dois travailler pour ça.” You have to work for it.
“We should study.” You mention, the pace of your hips not stopping. As if your body has a mind of its own.
“Nous sommes.” We are. He argues, his fingertips squeezing into the skin of your hips even more. “Now, keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on me.”
-
“Oh, what about her?” You point to the pretty brunette that was currently leaned against the wall, a red solo cup in her manicured hand, as she was deep in conversation with a few other girls that you haven’t seen before.
Charles sighs heavily, rolling his eyes just slightly. “Why are you pawning me off?” He cracks a smile, his elbows gently hitting your side.
You let out a small laugh before bringing your own cup to your lips. The liquid of your drink resting on the top of your lip as you finished a sip and turned to look at Charles. “M’not!” You shrug your shoulders. “Elle est jolie and keeps looking at you thinkin’ no one’s noticed.” She’s pretty.
He wouldn’t know about the ‘pretty brunette’ you claimed was there. He didn’t know about any other girl that was here. His eyes haven’t left your figure the entire night. Since you stepped in the entrance of the house he was by your side, it was like his body knew you arrived.
“Peu importe ça, m’gonna go dance.” Whatever. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a deep laugh, and saunter off to find one of your friends already on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the house. 
Charles leans casually against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of your radiant smile from afar. Despite himself, a soft grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of you.
“Are you sure you’re not together?” One of his friends, Alex, teases, leaning in close to Charles and handing him a red solo cup, its contents mostly frothy beer foam from an evidently lazy pour. “I was thinking of asking her out.”
Charles’s gaze drift from the frothy mess in his cup to Alex’s expectant face, a furrow forming on his brow. It wasn’t the foam that troubled him, rather, it was Alex’s words that unsettled him. How was he supposed to respond? We aren’t together but I think I’m in love with her?
Charles clenches his jaw, fighting back the urge to speak his truth, as the words “have at it” slip past his lips with a forced nonchalance. With a hollow smile, he raises the cup to his lips, swallowing the acrid liquid with a newfound eagerness that masked the bitter taste of envy and longing festering in his chest. As Alex made his way towards you, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of anguish, knowing that he was relinquishing his chance to confess his feelings, drowning them instead in the depths of a cheap beer.
-
“Mmm, tu es tellement douée.” You’re so good.
You weren’t quite sure how you ended up in this scenario. All you remember is being dragged away from a game of beer-pong with Alex, his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly it could’ve left marks, and shoving you onto your knees as soon as he shut the bathroom door. 
Dwelling on the how’s and why’s seemed inconsequential now. Especially with his cock buried deep down your throat like it is right now, and especially with the praises that slip past his lips.
Charles lulls his head back with a loud groan as he flexes his hips into your mouth, giving you little to no opportunity to breathe. No opportunity to speak. But you didn’t care. You would do anything to please him.
“Tellement putain de jolie, mon dieu.” So fucking pretty, my God.
“Bet you’re soaked under that dress, hm?” His grip on your hair tightens. “Got you all wet without even touching you.” His laugh is deep and mocking. You feel your thighs clench, like it was an automatic response. “Only I get you like this, yeah?”
You press your face forward, not even needing his force as you take full enjoyment in the feeling of him in your mouth.
“So eager, mon chou.”
You moan at the feeling of his smooth cock against the walls of your throat. The vibrations of your moan, immediately sending him over the edge. His white, hot cum spills down your throat, filling you up, before he pulls out. A long string of saliva follows, your eyes completely teary. 
He lifts you from your knees, the cool tile of the bathroom floor no longer your support, his thumb gently resting on your chin as he studies you for a mere second. Taking in the streaky tears under your eyes and your swollen lips. He could already feel the blood rushing back to his cock.
“Bet you’re leaking all over yourself, yeah?” You catch the smirk that pulls onto his lips before his lips crash down onto yours. His teeth nibbling on your bottom lip for a brief second before he’s pulling away, pushing you up onto the bathroom sink counter as he stands in between your spread legs. “All achy?” He cocked his head to the side a little, like he knew something you didn’t.
It was so fast, you weren’t even able to ask questions before he leaned forward, his fingers slipping into the lace of your underwear, pushing them aside, and pressing his hot tongue to your soaked core.
You swore you’ve never moaned so loud in your life as you just did in this moment.  At the feeling of the kitten licks on your clit, at the feeling of him shoving two fingers into you, finding that spot he knew you loved most almost instantly.
Your fingers franticly reached into his tousled locks, pulling his hair probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he moaned right into your pussy. Like he couldn’t ever get enough of you. Like he would stay licking you for forever if he could.
“Mon dieu,” My god. You squeal as your head lulls back against the cool mirror behind you and bite your lip trying to conceal the moans.
You look down at Charles, his eyes already staring at you, his green eyes completely darkened now. It makes your stomach do a multitude of flips. Your attempt to squeeze your legs shut from the pressure building in your stomach, but Charles grips his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding them open.
A series of knocks are heard on the bathroom door which sends you into a total panic to which Charles yells “Va te faire foutre!” Fuck off!
 Your body squirms against Charles’ mouth and the granite of the countertop, but he holds you in place as if to say you’re not going anywhere until you soak my mouth.
He ate you out like a possessed man. Your chest is flushed red as the speed of his tongue picks up, sending you into overdrive. It wasn’t until he sucks harshly on your clit, the pressure of it, has you leaping over the edge into your orgasm. You came hard enough that your body arched, your fingers clenching his hair, pulling hard.
Charles doesn’t come up right away, he licks and licks until you’re pushing him off you. Both of your chests rose and fell in rhythm with each heavy breath, the lingering echoes of the lively party beyond the door gradually seeping back into your consciousness. It felt as though you had just descended from a faraway realm, returning to the bustling reality surrounding you.
His lips glistened, coated in you, as he stares at you completely fucked out on the bathroom counter. An unmistakable smugness in his expression.
His heart clenches as he drinks in the sight of you, so many emotions swirling in his chest. As you stretch your lips into that smile he loves so much, he feels a swell of warmth flood his senses, a tender ache stirring in the depths of his soul.
“Qu’est-ce qui te prend?” What’s gotten into you?
Not that you were complaining at what just happened. If anything, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted a repeat right now.
He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, one hand leisurely slipping into his pocket, while the other moved to grasp the door handle. With a patient stance, he awaited your readiness before even considering opening the door. “J’avais juste besoin de toi,” Just needed you. He whispers, his voice carrying a tender resonance, emphasizing the depth of longing.
And then he’s swinging the door open, guiding you both back to the party.
-
“Je pense que nous devrions arrêter.” I think we should stop.
The words felt heavy in your throat as you said them, your hand clasped in Charles’ hand as you sat across from one another in the campus coffee shop.
Charles chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, but when be caught the seriousness in your expression, his laughter faded. His eyebrows knitted together, a pang of pain igniting in his chest and spreading like wildfire.
You watched as he leaned his head back against the booth, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if unable to meet your eyes.
“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? He met your eyes again, and you noticed a subtle shift in their hue—they were slightly darker than their usual shade of green.
“Je ne pense pas que ç ava marcher.” I don’t think this is going to work out. As you uttered the words, a queasy sensation churned in your stomach, making you feel like you were going to be sick. Similarly, Charles felt a wave of nausea wash over him upon hearing your words, his own stomach in knots.
Just looking at him had your eyes burning, but you refused to let the tears fall. Despite the overwhelming love you felt for this man, you couldn’t ignore the reality that it was unlikely to progress beyond the messy situation you found yourselves in. What were you supposed to do? Be friends that fuck for the rest of your lives?
You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. No, you’ve been thinking about this for so long, but cutting it off was just too hard. Cutting him off was too hard.
As you watched him slowly retract his fingers from yours, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose while he blinked, a fiery ache within your chest grew.
“We’re friends, always, right?” You asked, offering him a soft smile, though inside, your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You reminded yourself that this was necessary. You needed to go on dates. Not that he was exactly holding you back. It just felt wrong to go on dates while sleeping with another.
“Right,” he responded, his expression devoid of a smile. “Friends.” He nodded slowly, as if carefully considering the weight of the situation before him.
“Est-ce que je peux demander ce qui a déclencé cela?” Can I ask what brought this up? His fingers tapped restlessly along the edge of the table, betraying his impatience as he awaited your answer.
Meanwhile, you sat twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally stealing glances at them. Why did this conversation feel so unbearably difficult?
“Quoi?” What?
“Est-ce que j’ai fait quelque chose?” Did I do something?
You shook your head instantly, a small blush forming on your cheeks. “I just,” You began, but felt flustered as you took a pause to look back down at your fingers and then him again. His eyes made you feel hot all over, the way they never strayed from your face whenever you spoke to him, the way they dropped to your lips every so often as if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. He couldn’t.
“I just think I need to go on dates.” You nervously smiled.
“You think?” He scoffed, throwing one arm over the top of the booth, and resting it there as he fell into a relaxed position. His eye twitched slightly, as he flexed his hand and clenched it like he was holding himself back.
You’re not sure how to respond. You had anticipated this conversation to be brief, perhaps along the lines of “I think we should end this,” followed by his immediate agreement. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. You could feel yourself growing flustered the longer you sat here. Why couldn’t he just simply agree, no questions asked.
You nodded, with slight hesitance. Did you really want to end it with him? No.
He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a little smirk on his face as he usually did. “Très bien.” Fine.
And that was that.
-
Charles decided that he had it up to here when you strolled into the house party, lips shiny with gloss, and you hand held in none other than Alex’s. It was as if you were trying to torture him. Like you knew that he loved you and you just wanted to hurt him a little more.
He’s watching, you can feel his eyes burn into you as you turn your head, pretending to listen to Alex as he rambles on about some story. You don’t let yourself glance over to Charles until later in the night, when he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, a half-empty beer bottle gripped in his hand, eyes already on you.
You felt your stomach do a multitude of flips from the eye-contact, that you even almost pulled your hand from Alex’s. Like you were caught doing something wrong.
You quickly realized that you had little to no self-control, especially when it came to Charles. With his hair pushed back and the linen shirt half-unbuttoned, allowing the toned and taut muscles of his stomach to peek through, it almost seemed as though he wanted to make it even harder for you to resist. Like he wanted to punish you for not choosing him.
He had you right where he wanted you, sort of.
“Shh,” Charles nips at your earlobe, eliciting a mewl from you as he presses you against the mattress of his bed. “You want everyone to hear what a whore you are, hm?”
Another string of moans leaves your lips as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers gripping the front of your neck tightly. His eyes fixed on yours, the pace of his hips was slow, but so deep. 
“Tell me,” Charles began, his tongue trailing along your collarbones and up your neck until his mouth hovered over yours. “Still wanna play stupid games with me, jolie fille?” Pretty girl.
You whined as his hips picked up in pace. “Ouvrir.” Open. You did so without a second thought, only to be met with a string of saliva meeting your tongue. Charles groaned as you swallowed his spit, eagerly.
“Still wanna pretend we’re just friends?” He could feel your walls trembling as her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. It was a tangle of tongues and moans.
“Does he fuck you as good as me?” You couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you, staring at you, touching you. “Gripping me like you’re gonna come.”
You shook your head repeatedly. 
“That’s it,” His voice was gentle in your ear. “So good, mon chou.” 
Your breaths were jagged and heavy as he took you harder and harder. “Rub your pretty little clit for me, yeah?” 
Your body was shaking as you trailed your fingers down, fingers playing with your clit. Charles rested on his knees, his eyes staring at his cock being swallowed by your pussy, and the way your fingers toyed with your sensitive clit. He groaned at the sight of his cock coated in you. 
It wasn’t long before you careening forward with a cry, your body arching off the bed, as you came around his cock. Charles fell forward over you, an arm on each side of your head, as he cocooned you. His hips didn’t let up as you sobbed out, your toes curling.
Charles could feel his resolve slipping at the feeling of your soaked walls clenching him. He threw his head into the crevice of your neck, the rhythm of his hips faltering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper than before. He rolled his hips, pumping into you with such a fervent rush. 
“Mon dieu,” His groans were soft in your ear. “You feel so good.”
It wasn’t until you moaned in his ear, begging for him to come in you, that he lost all control. A deep moan, pressing his hips down against yours as he held you down, pumping his cum deep into you.
For a few moments, it was silent. Just the sound of your heavy breaths as Charles collapsed to the side of you. You both felt oddly at peace, even with the thumping of the house party music heard from the other side of his bedroom door.
Charles stood up, grabbing a towel from his bathroom, before bringing it to you to help clean you up. Something primal filled his chest as he stared at you sprawled on his bed, his cum dripping out of you. 
It was the last swipe of the towel when he finally spoke.
“We’re not friends.” He stated. He was sick of teetering around the topic. He was sick of seeing you with other guys at his house.
You opened your mouth to retort, but he held his hand up, essentially silencing you. 
“Stop pretending you want any other guy’s cock.” He stood before you as you sat up on the edge of the bed still naked, hands clenched at his sides in a fist. You began to stand up, your face turning red with anger, not because of his words but because he was right.
You grabbed your dress that was in a pile on the floor, slipping it on in a hurry. “Je dois partir.” I need to go. You began, “Alex me cherche probablement.” Alex is probably looking for me.
It was then that Charles raised his voice, if it weren’t for the loud music, you could’ve sworn the entire house would’ve heard.
“J’en ai tellement marre de ça!” I’m so sick of this! He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the room back and forth. You felt your words caught in your throat as you stood still, your eyes following his every movement until he stood before you, his hands gripping your waist.. “Je t’aime!” I love you! He laughs after he says it, like he’s so pathetically in love with you and you have no care in the world for it.
“I cannot handle seeing you with another man.” He rambles off. “I cannot handle seeing you showing up here, to my home, holding another man’s hand.” He seethes, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathes in, attempting to calm himself down.
“I know you love me.” His fingers grab your hand, pulling it up to his chest and holding it where his heart beats. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, his eyes reflecting a wild intensity, his hair disheveled hair adding to his untamed allure. Sensing your vulnerability, he gently cupped your face with his other hand, offering you a tender touch. You leaned into his comforting embrace, as if seeking solace in his presence. With a silent nod, you pressed your head against his hand, a single tear escaping down your cheek, bearing witness to the depth of your emotions.
“I’m so sick of seeing people with what is mine.” He urged. “You can’t be someone else’s, not when you are already mine.”
“Charlie,” You drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with him, drowning in the depths of his green gaze. Every fiber of your being resonated with love for this man, an unshakeable devotion that consumed your soul.
“S’il te plait.” Please. His voice was a whispered hush as he begged. “Put me out of my misery.” 
He opened his mouth to continue, but you didn’t let him. You stood on the tips of your toes, leaning forward to press your chest against his as you pressed your lips to him. His arms immediately wrapping around your waist as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you in his mouth again, his cock already hardening for you.
You pulled off him, “Really?” He let a small laugh escape his lips as he pulled your mouth back onto his for a small peck.
“I’m a man in love.” He grins, like he has nothing to be ashamed about.
“Je t’aime.” I love you.
Charles tenderly pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along the velvety skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Répète-le.” Say it again. He whispers, his voice husky with desire. As his lips continue down their intoxicating dance on your neck, his fingers trail the straps of your dress, gradually easing them down your shoulders with a tantalizing touch.
“Je t’aime.” I love you. He placed a small nip to your neck, eliciting a small squeal, as he lifted you up and carried you back to his bed.
“M’so in love with you,” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
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just-aake · 10 months
Text
Widow’s Charm
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: Natasha finds herself falling for Tony’s new lab assistant and weapons technician.
Warnings: fluff
Words: 3322
Natasha walks down the hallway towards Tony’s lab, holding her widow bite gauntlets in her hand. Typically, she would have just sent them down to be repaired, but an unexpected mission came up which means she needs them fixed sooner rather than later. Reaching the entrance of the lab, the doors slide open for her as she enters.
“Hey Tony, can you fix–,” Natasha stops when she notices someone else working in the lab.
You look up from your work table at the new voice in the room and see the Black Widow staring at you curiously. You have been working at the Avenger’s Compound as the new weapons technician as well as Tony’s lab assistant for the past few months. 
Since then, you’ve met all of the other Avengers already except for the mysterious Black Widow, though you have repaired some of her equipment that she had sent down previously. 
Tony tells you that she prefers to keep to herself, which you can understand. You settled with the fact that you may never meet her in person, so it is a small shock to see her standing in front of you.
Putting down your tools, you wipe your hands on your apron and walk over to her. Extending your hand to her, you give her a polite smile as you introduce yourself.
“Hello, my name is Y/n L/n. I’m the new weapons technician and Mr. Stark’s assistant in the lab. How can I help, Ms. Romanoff?” 
A small surprised smile forms on Natasha’s face at your words. Intrigued to learn more about you, she raises her hand to yours in greeting.
“Hi, you can just call me Nata–.” 
“No, no, no!” A voice yells from down the halls outside of the lab.
Tony comes rushing into the lab, breathing heavily. Looking around frantically, his eyes widen at the two of you. He rushes over to you quickly, grabbing you by the shoulders, and pushing you away from Natasha and out into the hallway. 
“I need you to go get the thing from Pepper,” he tells you.
“What thing?” you ask in confusion as you turn back around to him.
He gives you a brief wave before pressing the button on the side, shutting the lab doors in your face.
For a moment, Tony remains standing by the door, tensed as he purposely avoid looking at Natasha. Then, in the next second, his entire body suddenly relaxes, and he moves casually over to his workstation. 
“FRIDAY, what’s the plan for today?” Tony asks.
“The parts for the new repulsors arrived today, sir,” the AI voice replies.
“Great, get those plans pulled up for me, will you?”
Natasha blinks at the lab doors as she tries to process what just happened. She turns to Tony, looking for an explanation.
“What the hell was that Tony?” she exclaims.
Tony looks at her with his eyebrows raised.
“What was what?”
“You just suddenly pushed Y/n out of the room.”
Tony's mouth presses into a tight line as he gives her a confused look. “Never heard of her. Was there somebody here FRIDAY?”
“No, sir.” 
Tony nods back at her with a satisfied look.
Crossing her arms, Natasha was about to argue when the lab doors opened up again. 
Pepper walks into the room towards Tony.
“Y/n said you told her to get a ‘thing’ from me?”
Tony lets out a groan as he hangs his head. Sighing, he gestures to Natasha.
“Y/n met Natasha.” 
Pepper lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Really, Tony? We talked about this. You can’t place all the blame on her.”
Natasha raises her hands to get their attention. “Can somebody please explain to me what’s going on?”
Pepper turns to her, a small apologetic look on her face.
“Tony thinks you are the reason why his assistants keep quitting.”
Natasha frowns at the accusation. “How is that my fault?”
Tony scoffs in disbelief. “FRIDAY, pull up the timeline.” 
A holographic screen pops up between them showing the past year with certain dates highlighted. Tony points to one of the earliest dates in the year. 
“Avery Grayson. She met you on her second day on the job. A week later she asks you out but you decline. She turns in her resignation the following week.”
Natasha raises her eyebrows at the information.
“That doesn’t prove—“ 
Tony interrupts her, “Quinn Turner. She confesses to you a month after your first interaction. Gets turned down too and then quits three days later.”
Tony brings up the two most recent dates.
“Same thing with Riley and Harper. It’s a pattern. They meet you, fall for you, get rejected, and then quit.”
Natasha looks over at Pepper, silently asking if he was serious. In response, Pepper gives her a resigned nod as she rubs her head tiredly.
Tony gets her attention when he points at her accusingly.
“Do you know how hard it is to find competent people who know how to handle this level of equipment?”
Natasha lets out a huff of disbelief, crossing her arms. She remembers his previous assistants. To be honest, most of her interactions with them were completely professional. She didn’t get close to any of them personally or showed any romantic interest, which made each of the confessions surprising to her. 
Still, this doesn’t explain what he was trying to do with you. She raises her eyebrow at him.
“So your plan was to what? Hide your new assistant from me forever?”
“Not forever. Just until I can find someone for her so that she doesn’t fall for you.”
Natasha rolls her eyes at his ridiculousness. Focusing back on her original intention, she places her widow bite gauntlets on the work table.
“Can you just fix these for me? I have a mission in a few hours.”
“Fine, but you stay away from my assistant,” he warns.
Natasha heads toward the exit and waves her hand, dismissing his words. It’s not like she intends to make you fall for her, but she has to admit that she is interested to learn more about you. 
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
You look up from your sketches at the sound of the lab door opening and see the Black Widow stroll into the room. You give her a smile in greeting.
“Welcome back, Ms. Romanoff. Are you looking for Mr. Stark?”
She walks over to your workspace, leaning slightly against the table as she looks at you.
“Actually, I was coming to see you, and you can just call me Natasha. We got interrupted the last time we met.”
Nodding your head, you laugh softly at the memory.
“Pepper explained to me what that was about.” You give her a teasing suspicious look. “So are you here to make me fall for you?”
Natasha gives you an amused smile. Most people don’t usually get comfortable around her so quickly. 
“Only if you want to,” she says nonchalantly.
You chuckle at her response.
“Unfortunately, you won’t be hearing a confession from me soon. I like my job here.” 
Natasha feels a tinge of disappointment at your words, her smile dropping slightly. You don’t notice though since your attention had drifted to the widow bite gauntlets on her wrists.
“Speaking of, did you want me to take a look at that?” You can see that there was some damage from a fight probably during her recent mission.
Glancing down, Natasha shrugs. “I can do it later myself.”
“Well, that explains why I don’t see your stuff across my desk that often.” You raise your hand out to her anyway.
She stares at you curiously before slowly placing her hand in yours.
You let out a small laugh at her action. “This is nice, but I actually want the gauntlets.” You hold her hand gently in yours before turning it around to reach the clasp on the weapon.
Natasha tilts her head as she observes you. You were focused but gentle as you worked, and you didn’t show any signs that you were intimidated by who she was. In fact, you were pretty cute as you scrunch your face in concentration. She decides to tease you a little.
“You know, I don’t usually let people take things off my body until at least the second date.”
You remove the second gauntlet from her other wrist with a start before you see the teasing smirk on her face. You let out a small huff before refocusing your attention on your table.
“I see what Mr. Stark means when he said you were charming.”
Natasha raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what else did he tell you about me?”
“That you didn’t like meeting new people, though now I think that may have been a lie.”
Natasha shrugs before leaning in a little closer to you.
“It’s sort of true. I just prefer to meet people that I’m interested in.”
You turn away from her to hide the smile on your face, pretending to look for some tools. 
The lab doors slide open as Tony walks in while reading the tablet in his hand. Looking up, he sighs sadly when he sees Natasha next to you.
“Did she get to you already?”
You give him a reassuring look. “No confessions from me. Natasha just needed some things fixed.”
Tony stares at the two of you doubtfully before pointing to Natasha.
“Don’t you have reports to do or something?”
Rolling her eyes, Natasha stands to leave. She turns to you with a soft smile.
“I’ll come visit more often now that I know you exist.”
You bite your lips to hide your smile as you watch her leave. 
As Natasha exits the lab, she hears Tony’s voice call out.
“FRIDAY, can you restrict her access to the lab?”
“I’m afraid Ms. Potts has already denied that request, sir.”
Natasha smirks at the AI response. She should get something for Pepper later as thanks.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
As she said, over the following weeks, Natasha visits you often in the lab. Sometimes with some equipment that needed to be fixed. Other times just to talk. Later, when she finds out that you usually eat your lunch in the lab, she would also join you if she had the time. 
You look up when you hear the doors open, already knowing who to expect. Natasha walks in, waving the take-out bag in her hands.
You groan in relief at the sight of her. “You are a lifesaver.” 
You stand and grab the food from her eagerly before moving it to an area where the two of you can eat.
Natasha sits on the edge of your work table as she watches you set out the food.
“Well, I know how you get absorbed into your work and forget to eat,” she tells you knowingly.
Her eyes glance at the papers on your desk that you were previously working on. Most of them had rough sketches of designs for some of the equipment of the other Avengers. Her name on one paper catches her attention. Picking it up, Natasha examines the details curiously. 
At the sudden silence, you glance up at her. You do a double take when you realize what she was looking at.
Over time, as you worked on her equipment, you’ve noticed that her current suit’s belt doesn’t hold much ammo or gadgets, so you had sketched some ideas that you had for her.
“That’s just some ideas of some upgrades that I had. It’s not really anything worth looking at.” 
Natasha shakes her head in disagreement before handing the paper back to you.
“I like it. I’m sure Tony will get you the parts that you would need if you want to work on it.”
“Really?” you ask her, astonished.
She nods at you reassuringly before pushing you back towards the food.
“We can discuss it later, but first, let’s eat.”
A few weeks later, you completed your first prototype, and you were excited to show Natasha and test it out.
Natasha admires the new belt on the table. It was still slim and compact, but she can see where you had added extra slots for her weapons. You also included her signature red symbol on the buckle.
You were practically buzzing with excitement.
“I just need to see if there needs to be any more adjustments with the sizing.”
Without thinking, you grab her hand to pull her closer to you. You move quickly as you remove her current belt. Taking the new belt, your hands wrap around her waist as you grab one end before bringing it to her front and snapping it into place. You fidget with the belt, checking for any snags or looseness, totally absorbed in your work. 
Natasha’s initial surprised expression melts into an amused and fond look on her face as she watches you. You were adorable when you concentrated on your work, and honestly, she’s not sure how much longer she can hold in her feelings for you.
After performing your final checks and detailing little changes that needed to be adjusted, you suddenly froze when you realized Natasha hadn’t said a word since you started. 
Your eyes widened, mortified when you see your current position. Your body had moved closer to Natasha’s when you were making adjustments. One of your hands was still placed atop the belt while the other was resting against her stomach, and you could feel her toned body underneath your hand. You swallow nervously as you look up at her.
She tilts her head at you as you continue to stare at her.
“Everything okay?”
The closeness between your bodies was making it hard for you to think. Eventually, you were able to get your brain to function enough to respond.
“Yeah…all good.” You unconsciously lick your lips out of embarrassment.
You see Natasha's eyes flick down to your mouth at the action, and you feel your face heat up even more. You should definitely step away from her now. As you go to move, Natasha’s next words causes you to stop in surprise.
“Would you like to go out with me?”
Your eyes widen at her question, and you see a hopeful expression on her face as she waits for your response. Instinctively, you want to say ‘yes’ and close the distance between you two, but you stop yourself, hesistating. 
Natasha sees the conflicting feelings on your face, so she decides to ease the pressure a little with some teasing. 
“You know, according to Tony’s theory, since I’m the one who confessed, a rejection would mean that I would need to quit my job.”
You can't help but laugh at her reasoning before giving her a playful smile, teasing back. 
“Well, we can’t have the Black Widow quitting over a failed confession.”
Natasha places her hands on your waist, pulling you in closer. She tilts her head at you in question.
“I haven’t failed yet. Technically, you never gave me an answer.”
You move your arms to wrap around the back of her neck as you pretend to think about your decision.
“So I still get to keep my job?”
Natasha nods reassuringly. “For however long you can stand working with Tony’s ego.”
You give her a fond smile.
“Then yes, I would love to go out with you.”
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Tony was throwing you a party to celebrate your first anniversary since working with the Avengers and him, even though you insisted that it wasn’t necessary. He disagrees, saying how nobody has lasted this long, so you relented.
Naturally, you went with Natasha as your date since you have been dating her for several months already. The only problem is that you forgot to update Tony about your new relationship.
When the two of you enter the party, Natasha leans down and whispers next to your ear, “I’ll go get us something to drink.”
With a light touch against your back, she walks away toward the bar. 
You are lost in your thoughts as you admire her walk away, so you are startled when Tony slides in front of you, excitement in his eyes.
“Y/n! Good, I found you.”
You smile at him, used to his frantic energy by now.
“Hello, Mr. Stark, was there something that you needed?”
He waves his hand dismissively at you.
“This party is for you, and you’ve been working with me for a year now. I’ve told you to just call me Tony.” 
You give him an apologetic look before asking him curiously.
“You said you were looking for me?”
Tony claps his hands at the reminder.
“Yes, I want you to meet someone. She’s a nice person, has a great personality, and she works as a pilot.”
You raise your hand to try and stop him. “I already have some—“
“Oh, here she is!”
You give him a tight smile as the woman approaches the two of you. Tony pats you on the back in encouragement, turning to leave.
“Alright, I’ll leave the two of you alone.”
“Wait, Tony—,“ you try to stop him, but he rushes away. Turning back to the woman, you give her a polite smile as she introduces herself.
Meanwhile, Natasha was standing at the bar, waiting for your drinks.
“I am the greatest boss ever,” Tony exclaims, sliding in next to her.
Natasha rolls her eyes at his words. Deciding to indulge him while she waits, she asks him to explain.
“How’s that?”
“I just found the perfect date for our favorite weapons techie.”
Natasha frowns when she realizes what he said. Turning around to look at where she left you, she sees that you were currently talking with a beautiful woman. 
Her posture relaxes when she reads your body language. You had a polite smile on your face as you listened to the woman, but she could see how tense your body was, and your hand at your side kept fidgeting with your dress. 
“Now I don’t have to worry about her falling for you,” Tony says smugly.
“No, we wouldn’t want that,” Natasha smirks as she turns back around to grab the drinks that the bartender just placed in front of her. 
Tony notices the two drinks in her hands and raises his eyebrows at her.
“You have a date?”
“Girlfriend.”
Without explaining further, she heads back toward you. By the time Natasha reaches you, the other woman was already turning to leave, nodding at Natasha in acknowledgment. 
You let out a breath of relief as Natasha comes back to your side. Thankfully, the woman was understanding when you explained the situation to her. 
Natasha hands you your drink as she returns her hand around your waist, pulling you against her. She sighs in disappointment as she watches the woman leave.
“Here I thought I had the chance to be a hero and save you.”
You give her a teasing smile. “Maybe next time.” 
Natasha presses a soft kiss to your lips in response before pulling away.
You tilt your head curiously at her. “What was that for?”
Natasha gives you an affectionate look.
“First, because I love you.” 
Her expression shifts into a smirk.
“Second, is Tony freaking out?”
You look over her shoulders at the bar and see Tony gaping at the two of you, pointing accusingly at Natasha while Pepper holds him back from rushing over.
You turn back to her, giving her an amused look.
“He’s going to lock you out again.”
Natasha just shrugs, unbothered. “He can’t keep me away from you.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively at you. “He also can’t stop you from visiting me in my room during your breaks.”
You push her lightly before bringing her face close for a kiss.
When you accepted this job, you never thought you would end up in a relationship with the Black Widow. Then again you never imagine that she would end up falling for you.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
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purplesuitcowboy · 2 months
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tw: rape and incest. please don't read this if that's not what you're looking for.
this is part 1 read part 2 (x)
Everything changed when Karly's mother died. The first things were obvious and they came very quickly. It seemed as though on minute her mother was singing in the kitchen, the whole house alive with noise and the smell of her cooking, and in the next, there painful silence. It felt impossible to adjust to her mothers absence. Karly couldn't believe that she would never again hear her mothers laugh or feel her warm hugs.
Other changes were more surprising. The groceries immediately became a problem. Her father didn't have time to go to the store or cook so Karly picked up the slack. She went grocery shopping after school and made sure that dinner was on the table before her father got home. As more time passed, she picked up new responsibilities like making her father coffee in the morning and doing the laundry. She learned that she liked cleaning and found a lot of satisfaction in a having a clean home. Her own pleasure was secondary to how much it pleased her father to see their home clean.
Karly woke up bright and early on Saturday. She had a list of things that she needed to get done before the week started to make sure that they started everything off on a good foot. The big task of the day was cleaning the floor. She dressed in her grubby clothes, a shirt that was too big and a pair of shorts that were a little too small. She'd chosen to forgo a bra and underwear in an attempt to create less laundry for herself later. Her nipples were clearly visible, poking through the threadbare material. She turned towards the mirror and eyed herself critically in the mirror. The shorts were definitely too short, too cheeky to wear out and about. They were also a bit to tight, highlighting the lips of her pussy, but they weren't uncomfortable enough to warrant trying to find another pair. All and all, it was a rather risky look but she figured it would be fine to wear around house. After all, it was just her and her dad.
She padded into the kitchen, armed with a sponge and a bucket of warm soapy water. After surveying the scene, she got to work, bent over on her hands and knees vigorously cleaning the floor. She arched her back, ass high in the air, as she reached to get a spot that she had missed. Karly quickly lost herself in the rhythm of the work. It took her a while to realize that her father had been watching her. She stopped, looking over her shoulder at him. He was looking at her in a way that she had never seen before. He looked almost hungry.
"Don't stop on my account," he told her, waving her to continue.
He was watching her clean the floor? She suddenly felt self conscious of her state of undress. It shouldn't matter, it was just her dad but she felt so exposed under his gaze. She moved slowly, all to conscious of her fathers eyes on her. Maybe she was over thinking it? Maybe he just wanted to see how she did it? These explanations did not sooth her, however, because, if it really just about the cleaning then why was he looking at her like that.
She heard footsteps as her father came up behind her but she kept her eyes on the floor, continuing to make the attempt of cleaning the floor as though nothing was up. He bent down behind her and she felt his warm hands grip on to her hips. She froze, unsure of what to do.
"Just keep going," he told her.
He pulled her to him so that her ass rested flush against his pelvis. She could feel the hard bulge of his cock as his ground his hips into hers. She gasped at the contact, one part surprise and one part pleasure? She didn't understand what was going on and feared what he might be planning but within the fear was a different feeling - a thrill ran through her body. She heard the sound of a zipper, and the soft rustle of fabric. Despite her fear and confusion, Karly tried to continue her task, rubbing the soapy sponge against the tiles. She felt his hard cock brush against her cunt and then again, as he rubbed his hard flesh against her, the thin material of her shorts the only thing separating them.
She could heard his heavy breath behind her as his continued to grind against her. Karly had never done anything like this with a boy before, not like her dad was a mere boy anyway. Her pussy felt hot the way it did when she played with herself alone in her bed late at night. She couldn't help the soft moans that escaped her lips as her father continued to have his way with her.
Finally ready to move onto the main course, he moved gusset of her shorts out of the way and positioned the head of his cock against her slick hole. She opened her mouth to say something to stop him but only managed a stutter. She needed to stop this. It was wrong. He was her father but she couldn't get any of the words out. She should have left the room when she had the chance or maybe worn different clothes but she just sat there, allowing him to touch her as he pleased.
Slowly, he pushed inch after inch of his thick cock into her tight cunt. It was too much. Karly felt like she was being ripped in half. He pulled out slightly before he thrust his hips forward, filling her completely and forcing a cry out of Karly's lips. He groaned at the sensation. It had been so long since he had been in a cunt this tight. He slowly started fucking her, building up a solid rhythm. Gradually, Karly grew used to the feeling and her noises of pain, to her own horror, turned into sounds of pleasure. She couldn't help the soft moans that escaped her lips as he plunged his thick cock into her tight channel.She'd never felt so full in her life. It was uncomfortable but a pleasurable kind of discomfort.
For leverage, he adjusted his grip on his daughters body, pushing her torso onto the cold, wet floor, and forcing her to arch her back. With one hand, he tightly gripped her hip, using it to pull her onto to his cock forcing it deeper inside of her. Karly tried to prop herself up on her arms but it was difficult with the floor being as slippery as it was. He slipped his free hand between her legs to rub at her tender clit with his fingers. It felt amazing but Karly wasn't able to do anything other than moan and whine as he fucked her brainless. Her body went taunt like a bow as her orgasm began and through the haze of pleasure, she could hear her father talking to her.
"Just like that, baby. Just like that. Cum on daddy's cock."
She screamed as she came, shaking and shuddering in his arms. The additional stimulation spurned her father into a frenzy, and he furiously pounded into her until he found himself depositing his sperm deep into her womb. Even after his orgasm, he couldn't quite find it in himself to pull out so he continued to fuck deep into her soaked pussy and tease her clit until he forced her through another shrieking orgasm.
Finally satisfied, he pulled out of her tight snatch, watching with deep pleasure as his cum leaked out of her wet hole and onto the floor. Carefully, he tucked his flaccid cock back into his trousers and stood to his feet, standing over Karly as she came back down to earth. After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat.
"Right, then - uh- you clean this up and we'll head out to the pharmacy later to get your some plan b."
Karly nodded. The shock of the entire experience had left her speechless and her father was talking about the floor like nothing had happened. He offered her no explanation or words of comfort. The only thing he offered her was a look that she still couldn't understand. Satisfied with her answer, he nodded and walked off.
"Come get me when you're done."
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