littlangelsinner
littlangelsinner
Promptis Dude
682 posts
Multi shipper, Love to write. Adore Supernatural love Shadowhunter and the ship Malec And Jimon. ADORE JALLY 🀩 (The Outsider) If you don’t like the things I write then please just unfollow me. No Hate. Love you all❀️.
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littlangelsinner Β· 12 days ago
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π΄π‘ˆπ‘†π‘‡πΌπ‘ πΆπΌπ‘‡π‘Œ 𝐿𝐼𝑀𝐼𝑇𝑆
π‘†π‘’π‘šπ‘šπ‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘¦: 𝐼��'𝑠 π‘“π‘’π‘ π‘‘π‘–π‘£π‘Žπ‘™ π‘›π‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘, 𝑖𝑑'𝑠 β„Žπ‘œπ‘‘, π‘¦π‘œπ‘’'π‘Ÿπ‘’ 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛'𝑠 π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘£π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘–π‘Žπ‘™π‘™π‘¦ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘” π‘”π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘™π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘’π‘›π‘‘, β„Žπ‘’'𝑠 π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘›π‘˜ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘€π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘¦π‘œπ‘’.
π‘ƒπ‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘›π‘”: 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛 π΄π‘π‘˜π‘™π‘’π‘  π‘₯ π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ (π‘›π‘œ 𝑦/𝑛)
π‘Šπ‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘›π‘–π‘›π‘”: +𝟷𝟾! (π‘›π‘œ π‘šπ‘–π‘›π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘ ), π‘ π‘šπ‘’π‘‘, 𝑝𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑐 𝑠𝑒π‘₯, π‘™π‘Žπ‘›π‘”π‘’π‘Žπ‘”π‘’, π‘‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘¦ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘™π‘˜, π‘Žπ‘™π‘π‘œβ„Žπ‘œπ‘™ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘” π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘ π‘’π‘šπ‘π‘‘π‘–π‘œπ‘›, 𝑝𝑒𝑑 π‘›π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’π‘  (π‘™π‘œπ‘£π‘’, π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘¦, β„Žπ‘œπ‘›π‘’π‘¦β€¦), 𝑏𝑖𝑔 π‘Žπ‘”π‘’ π‘”π‘Žπ‘.
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π‘π‘œπ‘‘π‘’π‘ : 𝐼 π‘šπ‘’π‘Žπ‘› π·π‘Žπ‘›π‘’π‘’π‘™ π‘›π‘œ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘š. πΈπ‘›π‘”π‘™π‘–π‘ β„Ž 𝑖𝑠 π‘›π‘œπ‘‘ π‘šπ‘¦ π‘“π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘‘ π‘™π‘Žπ‘›π‘”π‘’π‘Žπ‘”π‘’ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘  𝑖𝑠 π‘šπ‘¦ π‘“π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘‘ πΈπ‘›π‘”π‘™π‘–π‘ β„Ž 𝑓𝑖𝑐, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝐼'π‘š π‘‘π‘œπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘šπ‘¦ 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑑, 𝑏𝑒𝑑 𝐼 π‘˜π‘›π‘œπ‘€ 𝐼 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘£π‘’ π‘Ž π‘™π‘œπ‘›π‘” π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦ π‘‘π‘œ π‘–π‘šπ‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘£π‘’. π‘ƒπ‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’ π‘π‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’ π‘π‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’, 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑙 π‘šπ‘’ π‘€β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜.
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- π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘˜π‘›π‘œπ‘€ 𝐼'π‘š π‘›π‘œπ‘‘ 𝟹𝟢 π‘Žπ‘›π‘¦π‘šπ‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’, β„Žπ‘œπ‘›π‘’π‘¦. - 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛 π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦π‘ , π‘™π‘Žπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Ž 𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒, π‘€β„Žπ‘–π‘™π‘’ 𝑝𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘–π‘Ÿ π‘π‘’β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿ.
- π‘‚β„Ž, π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’ π‘œπ‘›, π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘’! π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’'π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦ π‘π‘’π‘‘π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘› π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ 𝟹𝟢-π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” 𝑔𝑒𝑦𝑠.
𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑠 π‘Žπ‘π‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘Žπ‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” β„Žπ‘–π‘  πŸ»πŸΆπ‘ , 𝑏𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘›π‘¦ π‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘€π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘› π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘”π‘™π‘œπ‘π‘’, β„Žπ‘’ 𝑖𝑠 π‘œπ‘›π‘™π‘¦ 𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘π‘’π‘‘π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ, π‘™π‘–π‘˜π‘’ 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑒. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘–π‘Ÿ 𝑖𝑠 π‘™π‘œπ‘›π‘”π‘’π‘Ÿ, π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘›π‘˜π‘™π‘’π‘  π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘  𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’ 𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘‘π‘’π‘’π‘π‘’π‘Ÿ, β„Žπ‘’ 𝑖𝑠 π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦ π‘šπ‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘π‘Žπ‘‘π‘–π‘’π‘›π‘‘, π‘π‘Žπ‘™π‘š. 𝐡𝑒𝑑, π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’ π‘‘π‘–π‘šπ‘’, β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘šπ‘–π‘›π‘Ž 𝑖𝑠 β„Žπ‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ. 𝐻𝑒 π‘™π‘Žπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘ , π‘‘β„Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘€π‘–π‘›π‘” β„Žπ‘–π‘  β„Žπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘˜:
- 𝐼𝑓 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦ π‘ π‘œ, 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’.
𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑠 π‘€π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Ž π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘π‘˜ π‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘Ÿπ‘‘, π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘π‘˜ π‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘ , π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘Ž π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘π‘Žπ‘™π‘™ π‘π‘Žπ‘ π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘˜π‘€π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘ . π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘Ÿπ‘‘ β„Žπ‘’π‘”π‘  β„Žπ‘–π‘  𝑏𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑠 𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑑 π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘, π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘šπ‘œπ‘’π‘‘β„Ž π‘€π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π‘€π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘. 𝐻𝑒 π‘‘π‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘  π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘, 𝑔𝑒𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘”β„Ž π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ 𝑉𝐼𝑃 π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Ž π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘“π‘’π‘ π‘‘π‘–π‘£π‘Žπ‘™. 𝐴𝑒𝑠𝑑𝑖𝑛 𝐢𝑖𝑑𝑦 πΏπ‘–π‘šπ‘–π‘‘π‘  𝑖𝑠 π‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘€π‘‘π‘’π‘‘, π½π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝐺𝑒𝑛 π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π‘¦π‘œπ‘’. π»π‘œπ‘§π‘–π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘¦π‘–π‘›π‘”, 𝐽𝑒𝑛 β„Žπ‘’π‘”π‘”π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘š π‘π‘’β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘‘, 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘œπ‘›π‘”π‘  π‘œπ‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿ:
- … π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘œπ‘›π‘™π‘¦ β„Žπ‘’π‘Žπ‘£π‘’π‘› 𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑑 π‘‘π‘œ 𝑖𝑠 π‘€β„Žπ‘’π‘› 𝐼'π‘š π‘Žπ‘™π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π‘¦π‘œπ‘’β€¦
𝐻𝑖𝑠 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘Žπ‘™π‘™ π‘œπ‘£π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘œπ‘‘π‘¦ π‘›π‘œπ‘€, π‘‘π‘œπ‘’π‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘€π‘Žπ‘–π‘ π‘‘, π‘ π‘™π‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘π‘™π‘¦ π‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘Žπ‘ π‘ , π‘˜π‘–π‘ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘›π‘’π‘π‘˜, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 β„Žπ‘–π‘š 𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘π‘’β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’.
- 𝐼 π‘‘β„Žπ‘œπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘€π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘› π‘œπ‘™π‘‘ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘›, π‘œπ‘™π‘‘ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘›. - π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦, π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘›π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘π‘œ β„Žπ‘–π‘š, π‘Ž π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘¦π‘“π‘’π‘™ π‘ π‘šπ‘–π‘™π‘’ π‘œπ‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘“π‘Žπ‘π‘’.
𝐼𝑑 π‘€π‘Žπ‘  π‘Ž π‘™π‘œπ‘›π‘” π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦ 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑙 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘€π‘œ π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ 𝑔𝑒𝑑 π‘‘π‘œπ‘”π‘’π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑖𝑛 𝑝𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑐, 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘ π‘œ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘›π‘¦ π‘¦π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘  π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘”π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘‘π‘’ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘“π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘–π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ β„Žπ‘œπ‘€ π‘’π‘£π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘¦π‘œπ‘›π‘’, π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘“π‘Žπ‘šπ‘–π‘™π‘–π‘’π‘ , β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘ , β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘“π‘Žπ‘›π‘ , π‘€π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘π‘‘, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑑 π‘‘π‘œ π‘˜π‘’π‘’π‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘”π‘  π‘žπ‘’π‘–π‘’π‘‘ π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘Ž π‘€β„Žπ‘–π‘™π‘’. π‘π‘œπ‘€, π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π‘’π‘£π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘¦π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘˜π‘›π‘œπ‘€οΏ½οΏ½οΏ½οΏ½π‘›π‘”, π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π½π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘'𝑠 π‘ π‘’π‘π‘π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘‘, β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘“π‘Žπ‘šπ‘–π‘™π‘¦ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 π‘™π‘–π‘˜π‘’ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘€π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘™π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘π‘¦ π‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ 𝑖𝑑, π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑑 π‘ π‘’π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘’π‘›π‘œπ‘’π‘”β„Ž π‘‘π‘œ 𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑛 π‘Ž π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘π‘’ π‘™π‘–π‘˜π‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž β„Žπ‘–π‘š, 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 π‘˜π‘›π‘œπ‘€π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘€π‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ π‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘π‘Žπ‘π‘™π‘¦ 𝑏𝑒 π‘“π‘Žπ‘›π‘  π‘‘π‘Žπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘π‘–π‘π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘  π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘π‘œπ‘ π‘‘π‘  π‘Žπ‘π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘€π‘œ.
- 𝐼𝑑'𝑠 π‘›π‘œπ‘‘ π‘šπ‘¦ π‘“π‘Žπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’'π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘  β„Žπ‘œπ‘‘, π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘’. - 𝐻𝑒 π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦π‘ , π‘™π‘Žπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘ π‘žπ‘’π‘’π‘’π‘§π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑏𝑒𝑑𝑑.
𝐻𝑒 π‘”π‘œπ‘’π‘  π‘‘π‘œ π½π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘, π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘‘π‘€π‘œ π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘š π‘”π‘œπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘π‘œ π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘“π‘–π‘™π‘™ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘’π‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑠, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘¦ π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒, π‘‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘‘π‘œ π»π‘œπ‘§π‘–π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘ π‘œπ‘›π‘”π‘ . 𝐼𝑑 𝑖𝑠𝑛'𝑑 π‘šπ‘’π‘β„Ž π‘™π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘¦π‘  π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’ π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘˜, π‘π‘’π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  𝑖𝑛 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘, π‘‘π‘Žπ‘™π‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘™π‘Žπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π‘’π‘Žπ‘β„Ž π‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ, π‘Žπ‘™π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦π‘  π‘‘π‘œπ‘’π‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘”. π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘˜π‘›π‘œπ‘€ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘¦'π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘‘β„Ž π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘›π‘˜, 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛'𝑠 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 π‘‘π‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘, π½π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘'𝑠 π‘β„Žπ‘’π‘’π‘˜π‘  π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘, π‘™π‘Žπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘’π‘£π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘¦π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘¦ π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦ π‘‘π‘œ π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘Žπ‘›π‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ. π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘¦ π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘β„Ž π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝐺𝑒𝑛, 𝐽𝑒𝑛 π‘˜π‘–π‘ π‘ π‘’π‘  π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘β„Ž π‘ π‘šπ‘’π‘™π‘™π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘™π‘–π‘˜π‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘’π‘’π‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘’'𝑠 π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘›π‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘”. π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘˜π‘’ π‘Ž 𝑠𝑖𝑝 π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ 𝑐𝑒𝑝 β„Žπ‘’ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘”π‘œπ‘’π‘  π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘˜ π‘‘π‘œ π‘˜π‘–π‘ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” β„Žπ‘–π‘š, π‘œπ‘›π‘’ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ β„Žπ‘œπ‘™π‘‘π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘’π‘’π‘Ÿ, π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘œπ‘› β„Žπ‘–π‘  β„Žπ‘Žπ‘–π‘Ÿ, π‘π‘’π‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘”. 𝑂𝑛𝑒 π‘œπ‘“ β„Žπ‘–π‘  β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘œπ‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘€π‘Žπ‘–π‘ π‘‘, 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘’.
- 𝐻𝑒𝑦, 𝑔𝑒𝑑 π‘Ž π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘œπ‘š π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘€π‘œ - π½π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦π‘ , π‘π‘’π‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” 𝐽𝑒𝑛 π‘Ž 𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒, π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” β„Žπ‘–π‘š 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑙𝑙 π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’ π‘œπ‘“ β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘π‘’π‘’π‘Ÿ, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘π‘Žπ‘’π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Žπ‘› 𝑒𝑦𝑒 π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘™π‘™. - π΄π‘π‘˜, π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ β„Žπ‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘›π‘‘π‘œπ‘”, π‘€β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’'𝑠 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ 𝑀𝑒𝑒𝑑? - β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦π‘ , π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘π‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘π‘œ π‘€β„Žπ‘–π‘ π‘π‘’π‘Ÿ.
𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛'𝑠 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘”π‘œπ‘’π‘  π‘‘π‘œ β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘π‘œπ‘π‘˜π‘’π‘‘π‘ , π‘ π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘™π‘™π‘’π‘‘ π‘—π‘œπ‘–π‘›π‘‘π‘  β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘  π‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘Ÿπ‘¦π‘–π‘›π‘”, π‘Žπ‘  β„Žπ‘’ π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘›π‘ . 𝐻𝑒 π‘‘π‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘  π‘œπ‘›π‘’, π‘ π‘šπ‘–π‘™π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘ π‘‘π‘œ π½π‘Žπ‘Ÿ, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘¦ π‘™π‘Žπ‘’π‘”β„Ž π‘™π‘–π‘˜π‘’ 𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 π‘˜π‘–π‘‘π‘ . π»π‘œπ‘§π‘–π‘’π‘Ÿ'𝑠 π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘‘ 𝑖𝑠 π‘œπ‘£π‘’π‘Ÿ, π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘—π‘œπ‘–π‘›π‘‘ π‘π‘Žπ‘ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” 𝑏𝑒𝑑𝑀𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛 π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π½π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘, π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘’π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘“π‘–π‘™π‘™π‘’π‘‘ π‘šπ‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘‘π‘–π‘šπ‘’π‘  π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘π‘Žπ‘› π‘π‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘. π΄π‘›π‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘ , 𝐽𝑒𝑛 𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘’π‘Ÿ, π‘˜π‘–π‘ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘šπ‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’, β„Žπ‘–π‘  𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 β„Žπ‘’π‘Žπ‘£π‘¦, π‘Žπ‘™π‘šπ‘œπ‘ π‘‘ π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘–π‘›π‘”. 𝐻𝑖𝑠 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, π‘˜π‘’π‘’π‘π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘’, π‘˜π‘–π‘ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘›π‘’π‘π‘˜.
- 𝐼 π‘™π‘œπ‘£π‘’ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘ π‘šπ‘’π‘™π‘™. - 𝐻𝑒 π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦π‘ .
- 𝐼'π‘š π‘Žπ‘™π‘™ π‘ π‘€π‘’π‘Žπ‘‘π‘¦, π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘¦. - π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦, π‘™π‘Žπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Žπ‘‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘š, π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘œπ‘‘π‘¦ π‘ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘’, π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘π‘π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘Žπ‘ π‘  π‘œπ‘› β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘‘π‘β„Ž, π‘Žπ‘™π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘π‘¦ 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 β„Žπ‘–π‘š β„Žπ‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘”π‘Žπ‘–π‘›π‘ π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’. - π»π‘œπ‘€ π‘π‘Žπ‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑔𝑒𝑑 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘ 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘›π‘˜ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘ π‘‘π‘œπ‘›π‘’π‘‘?
- π‘‚β„Ž, π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘˜π‘›π‘œπ‘€ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘œπ‘¦π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘’π‘›π‘‘, π‘™π‘œπ‘£π‘’. 𝐡𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑠, π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘œπ‘‘π‘¦ π‘π‘Žπ‘› π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘’ π‘šπ‘’ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘¦ π‘‘π‘–π‘šπ‘’. 𝐽𝑒𝑠𝑑 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Žπ‘π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ 𝑖𝑑…
- 𝐼 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘ β„Žπ‘œπ‘’π‘™π‘‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘˜π‘’ π‘šπ‘’ π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘€β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’β€¦ π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦π‘π‘’ π‘Ž π‘‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘˜ π‘π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘›π‘’π‘Ÿβ€¦
- π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘˜ π‘ π‘œ? πΉπ‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘€β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘? π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘šπ‘’ π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘˜π‘’ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, β„Žπ‘œπ‘›π‘’π‘¦? - 𝐻𝑖𝑠 𝑇𝑒π‘₯π‘Žπ‘  π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘€π‘™ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑀𝑒𝑑. - 𝑀𝑦 π‘‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘¦ 𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑑 π‘€π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘šπ‘’ π‘‘π‘œ π‘“π‘’π‘π‘˜ β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘œπ‘› π‘Ž π‘‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘˜ π‘π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘›π‘’π‘Ÿ, β„Žπ‘’β„Ž? - 𝐻𝑒 π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦π‘  𝑖𝑛 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿ, β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘‘π‘œπ‘’π‘β„Ž 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘β„Žπ‘–π‘™π‘™π‘ , π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘ π‘˜π‘–π‘› π‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘€π‘™ π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž ��𝑒𝑒𝑑 π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘šπ‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’.
- π‘ƒπ‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’, π‘π‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’, π‘π‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’. - π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘π‘™π‘’π‘Ž.
π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘™π‘–π‘§π‘’, β„Žπ‘’ 𝑖𝑠 π‘‘π‘Žπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘, π‘Žπ‘™π‘šπ‘œπ‘ π‘‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘”π‘”π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘œ π‘Žπ‘›π‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘π‘’, 𝑙𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π½π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ β„Žπ‘œπ‘™π‘‘π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘—π‘œπ‘–π‘›π‘‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘ π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘šπ‘–π‘›π‘” 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛'𝑠 π‘›π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’. π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘€π‘œ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘’ 𝑖𝑑 π‘π‘Žπ‘ π‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘’π‘‘π‘–π‘’π‘›π‘π‘’ π‘‘π‘œ π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘“π‘œπ‘œπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘  π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘“π‘’π‘ π‘‘π‘–π‘£π‘Žπ‘™. 𝐻𝑒 𝑖𝑠 π‘™π‘œπ‘œπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘€β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 β„Žπ‘–π‘šπ‘ π‘’π‘™π‘“ π‘‘π‘œπ‘’π‘ π‘›'𝑑 π‘˜π‘›π‘œπ‘€ π‘œπ‘“. 𝐼𝑑 𝑖𝑠𝑛'𝑑 π‘Ž π‘šπ‘–π‘›π‘’π‘‘π‘’ π‘™π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘€π‘œ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘ π‘ π‘’π‘‘ 𝑒𝑝 π‘‘π‘œπ‘”π‘’π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘œπ‘› π‘Ž π‘‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘˜ π‘Žπ‘™π‘™π‘’π‘¦, π‘π‘’β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘‘ π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘π‘˜π‘ . πΌπ‘šπ‘šπ‘’π‘‘π‘–π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘™π‘¦ 𝐽𝑒𝑛 π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘  π‘˜π‘–π‘ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘šπ‘œπ‘’π‘‘β„Ž, π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘›π‘’π‘π‘˜, π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘β„Žπ‘’π‘ π‘‘, β„Žπ‘–π‘  β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘“π‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘€π‘Žπ‘–π‘ π‘‘, π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘ β„Žπ‘’π‘‘, π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘–π‘, 𝑏𝑒𝑑 π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘Žπ‘–π‘› π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘Žπ‘šπ‘’ π‘‘π‘–π‘šπ‘’. π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ 𝑙𝑒𝑑 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘’π‘™π‘“ 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛, π‘β„Žπ‘’π‘ π‘‘ π‘‘π‘œ π‘β„Žπ‘’π‘ π‘‘, π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘β„Žπ‘  π‘šπ‘–π‘₯𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ 𝑀𝑒𝑒𝑑 π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘’π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  β„Žπ‘’ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘. 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛 '𝑠 β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘œπ‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑠, 𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘šπ‘–π‘›π‘– π‘ π‘˜π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘–π‘ π‘‘π‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘–π‘’π‘ :
- π΅π‘Žπ‘π‘’? - 𝐻𝑒 π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦π‘ , π‘ π‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Ž 𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘β„Ž, 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑀𝑖𝑑𝑒. - π»π‘œπ‘€ π‘ π‘šπ‘Žπ‘™π‘™ 𝑖𝑠 π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘”?
- π‘‰π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘¦. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑒 π‘‘β„Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘”β„Ž - π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘›π‘ π‘€π‘’π‘Ÿ, π‘™π‘–π‘π‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘š β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘›π‘’π‘π‘˜ π‘‘π‘œ β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘β„Žπ‘’π‘’π‘˜, 𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘›π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘šπ‘œπ‘’π‘‘β„Ž.
- π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’'π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘¦. - 𝐻𝑒 π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘  π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘šπ‘œπ‘’π‘‘β„Ž π‘œπ‘› β„Žπ‘–π‘ , π‘˜π‘–π‘ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’. π‘π‘œπ‘€ β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑖𝑠 π‘“π‘œπ‘™π‘™π‘œπ‘€π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒 π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘–π‘’π‘  π‘€π‘Žπ‘–π‘ π‘‘π‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘: π‘“π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘ π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘€π‘Žπ‘–π‘ π‘‘, π‘”π‘œπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘›π‘‘, π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘› 𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘‘π‘œπ‘€π‘› 𝑏𝑒𝑑𝑀𝑒𝑒𝑛 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑠, 𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑑 π‘‘π‘œ 𝑠𝑒𝑒 β„Žπ‘œπ‘€ 𝑀𝑒𝑑 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘™π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘π‘¦ π‘€π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘–π‘š. - π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’'π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘ π‘œ 𝑀𝑒𝑑, β„Žπ‘œπ‘›'. π‘Šπ‘Žπ‘›π‘›π‘Ž π‘’π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ π‘ π‘œ π‘π‘Žπ‘‘. - 𝐻𝑖𝑠 π‘šπ‘œπ‘’π‘‘β„Ž 𝑖𝑠 β„Žπ‘œπ‘‘ π‘œπ‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿ, π‘˜π‘–π‘ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘›π‘’π‘π‘˜ 𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑑𝑀𝑒𝑒𝑛 π‘€π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘ . - 𝐡𝑒𝑑 𝑀𝑒 π‘”π‘œπ‘‘π‘‘π‘Ž 𝑏𝑒 π‘“π‘Žπ‘ π‘‘. - 𝐻𝑖𝑠 π‘€π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘  π‘Žπ‘™π‘šπ‘œπ‘ π‘‘ π‘π‘’π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’ π‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘Ÿπ‘Žπ‘šπ‘π‘™π‘’.
𝐻𝑖𝑠 π‘“π‘–π‘›π‘”π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  π‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘ π‘  π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑝𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑦, 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘€β„Žπ‘’π‘› β„Žπ‘’ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘  β„Žπ‘–π‘  β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘Žπ‘€π‘Žπ‘¦, 𝑖𝑑 π‘–π‘šπ‘šπ‘’π‘‘π‘–π‘Žπ‘‘π‘’π‘™π‘¦ π‘”π‘œπ‘’π‘  π‘‘π‘œ β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘šπ‘œπ‘’π‘‘β„Ž, π‘ π‘’π‘π‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘’π‘Žπ‘β„Ž π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘œπ‘“ β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘“π‘–π‘›π‘”π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ π‘€π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘œπ‘‘π‘¦, π‘ π‘šπ‘–π‘™π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Ž π‘ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘šπ‘’π‘™π‘’π‘ π‘  π‘ π‘šπ‘–π‘™π‘’, π‘šπ‘Žπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘šπ‘œπ‘Žπ‘› 𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑑 π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘. 𝐽𝑒𝑛 𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑠 π‘Ž π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘‘π‘œπ‘š π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘š β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘€π‘Žπ‘™π‘™π‘’π‘‘, 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑑 π‘‘π‘œ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘”π‘œπ‘’π‘  π‘‘π‘œ β„Žπ‘–π‘  𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑑 π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘œπ‘π‘’π‘›π‘  β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž 𝑖𝑑. π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› β„Žπ‘’ π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’π‘  β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘π‘œπ‘π‘˜, π‘π‘œπ‘₯π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘  𝑗𝑒𝑠𝑑 π‘™π‘œπ‘€ π‘’π‘›π‘œπ‘’π‘”β„Ž, β„Žπ‘’ 𝑖𝑠 π‘Žπ‘™π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘π‘¦ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘, π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ β„Žπ‘’π‘™π‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘š π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘‘π‘œπ‘š, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑒𝑛𝑒π‘₯𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑑𝑒𝑑𝑙𝑦 β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘–π‘π‘˜π‘  π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑒𝑝, π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘˜ π‘Žπ‘”π‘Žπ‘–π‘›π‘ π‘‘ π‘Ž π‘€π‘Žπ‘™π‘™ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘π‘™π‘’ β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘€π‘Žπ‘–π‘ π‘‘ π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑠, π‘œπ‘›π‘’ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘  π‘œπ‘› β„Žπ‘–π‘  β„Žπ‘Žπ‘–π‘Ÿ, π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘’π‘ β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘π‘–π‘’π‘  π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ 𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑔𝑒𝑖𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘šπ‘’π‘šπ‘π‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’. π΅π‘œπ‘‘β„Ž π‘œπ‘“ β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘‘π‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘π‘ , π‘‘π‘œ β„Žπ‘œπ‘™π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’. π‘‡β„Žπ‘’ π‘šπ‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ β„Žπ‘’'𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛 π‘ π‘‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘  π‘‘π‘œ π‘“π‘’π‘π‘˜, β„Žπ‘–π‘  β„Žπ‘–π‘π‘  β„Žπ‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘”π‘Žπ‘–π‘›π‘ π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ , π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘π‘–π‘›π‘”, π‘ π‘€π‘’π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘–π‘π‘π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘“π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘š β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’β„Žπ‘’π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘‘π‘œ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ , π‘π‘’π‘π‘Žπ‘’π‘ π‘’ π‘œπ‘“ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’'π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘‘π‘œπ‘’π‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘”.
- π‘Œπ‘œπ‘’ 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 π‘ π‘œ π‘”π‘œπ‘œπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ π‘šπ‘’, π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘¦.
- π‘‚β„Ž π‘šπ‘¦ πΊπ‘œπ‘‘, 𝐽𝑒𝑛. π‘ƒπ‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’, π‘π‘™π‘’π‘Žπ‘ π‘’, π‘‘π‘œπ‘›'𝑑 π‘ π‘‘π‘œπ‘.
𝐼𝑑'𝑠 π‘›π‘œπ‘‘ π‘™π‘œπ‘›π‘” π‘π‘’π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘”π‘Žπ‘ π‘š 𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘ π‘’π‘Ÿ: 𝑖𝑑'𝑠 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘π‘’; π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦ 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛 β„Žπ‘œπ‘™π‘‘π‘  π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, π‘’π‘“π‘“π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘‘π‘™π‘’π‘ π‘ π‘™π‘¦; β„Žπ‘œπ‘€ β„Žπ‘’ 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, π‘π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘“π‘’π‘π‘‘; π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘¦ β„Žπ‘’ π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘›π‘‘π‘ , π‘›π‘œπ‘‘ π‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘€π‘–π‘‘β„Ž π‘ π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘œπ‘›π‘’ 𝑖𝑠 π‘π‘Žπ‘ π‘ π‘–π‘›π‘” 𝑏𝑦 π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ β„Žπ‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘–π‘›π‘”; π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘’π‘ , β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘šπ‘  π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘–π‘šπ‘π‘œπ‘ π‘ π‘–π‘π‘™π‘¦ π‘‘π‘–π‘”β„Žπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘šπ‘π‘™π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘œπ‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘’π‘Žπ‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘œπ‘€ π‘”π‘œπ‘œπ‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’'π‘Ÿπ‘’, β„Žπ‘œπ‘€ β„Žπ‘œπ‘‘, β„Žπ‘œπ‘€ π‘Žπ‘šπ‘Žπ‘§π‘–π‘›π‘” 𝑖𝑑 𝑖𝑠 π‘‘π‘œ π‘“π‘’π‘π‘˜ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ 𝑝𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑦, π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ β„Žπ‘’ π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘ π‘‘ π‘‘π‘€π‘œ π‘œπ‘Ÿ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘’ π‘Žπ‘“π‘‘π‘’π‘Ÿ π‘‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘œπ‘Ÿπ‘”π‘Žπ‘ π‘šπ‘  β„Žπ‘–π‘‘π‘  π‘‘π‘œπ‘œ.
- πΉπ‘’π‘π‘˜, π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘’. 𝐷𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑑 π‘€π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘‘π‘œ 𝑒𝑛𝑑 - β„Žπ‘’ π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦π‘ , 𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘œπ‘’π‘‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’, 𝑙𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘˜ π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘›π‘‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘Ž π‘π‘™π‘Žπ‘π‘’ π‘‘π‘œ π‘‘π‘–π‘ π‘π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘‘ π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘π‘œπ‘›π‘‘π‘œπ‘š. 𝑆𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑙 π‘‘π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘›π‘˜, 𝑠𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑙 π‘ π‘‘π‘œπ‘›π‘’π‘‘, π‘™π‘Žπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘”.
π‘Šβ„Žπ‘’π‘› π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘€π‘œ π‘“π‘–π‘›π‘–π‘ β„Ž 𝑓𝑖π‘₯𝑖𝑛𝑔 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ π‘π‘™π‘œπ‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘ , π‘Ž π‘”π‘Ÿπ‘œπ‘’π‘ π‘œπ‘“ π‘π‘’π‘œπ‘π‘™π‘’ π‘π‘Žπ‘ π‘  𝑏𝑦 π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘Žπ‘™π‘™π‘’π‘¦, π‘‘π‘Žπ‘™π‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘”, π‘™π‘Žπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘™π‘œπ‘œπ‘˜π‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘π‘–π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘π‘‘π‘™π‘¦ π‘Žπ‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘‘π‘€π‘œ. 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛 π‘‘π‘Žπ‘˜π‘’π‘  π‘¦π‘œπ‘’π‘Ÿ β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘‘, π‘β„Žπ‘Žπ‘›π‘”π‘’π‘  β„Žπ‘–π‘  π‘π‘Žπ‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ π‘Ÿπ‘’π‘› π‘‘π‘œπ‘”π‘’π‘‘β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿ, π‘™π‘Žπ‘’π‘”β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘™π‘–π‘˜π‘’ π‘‘π‘’π‘’π‘›π‘Žπ‘”π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘ , π‘π‘œπ‘šπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘π‘Žπ‘π‘˜ π‘‘π‘œ π‘€β„Žπ‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ π½π‘Žπ‘Ÿπ‘’π‘‘ π‘Žπ‘›π‘‘ 𝐺𝑒𝑛 π‘€π‘’π‘Ÿπ‘’ π‘€π‘Žπ‘–π‘‘π‘–π‘›π‘”, 𝑠𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑙 π‘€π‘Žπ‘‘π‘β„Žπ‘–π‘›π‘” π‘‘β„Žπ‘’ π‘ β„Žπ‘œπ‘€.
- πΆπ‘Žπ‘›'𝑑 π‘€π‘Žπ‘–π‘‘ π‘‘π‘œ 𝑔𝑒𝑑 π‘¦π‘œπ‘’ β„Žπ‘œπ‘šπ‘’, π‘™π‘œπ‘£π‘’ - 𝐽𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑛 π‘ π‘Žπ‘¦π‘ .
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#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x reader#jensen fucking ackles#jensen ackles x you#jensen ackles au#jensen ackles smut#jensen ackles fanfic#jensen x reader
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littlangelsinner Β· 13 days ago
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get yourself a boyfriend who will watch your favourite cartoon with you after you force him to run through town all day to bust your little brothers
#candace flynn#phineas and ferb#pnf#jeremy johnson#my art#i drew this in like 30 min bc i just think they’re so cute :)#i hope we get lots of them in s5#ignore the line on jeremy’s hand it is what it is#drabble#light angst
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littlangelsinner Β· 17 days ago
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I need a piece of your beautiful mind- yelena with an obsession of making you squirt
yelena’s mean with it.
she’s behind you, thick thighs pressed to the backs of yours, and her handsβ€”strong, slightly calloused, knuckles scraped from the last missionβ€”are spreading you open like it’s nothing. you try to close your legs and she doesn’t even flinch, just tightens her grip until your hips tremble from the effort of resisting.
β€œstop that,” she mutters low against your ear, accent heavy and mouth warm. β€œyou said i could.”
and you did. you always do. even when you know what it means.
even when you know you’ll be dripping down her wrist, the bed beneath you soaked throughβ€”your thighs shaking, lips swollen, breath caught in your throat. she makes you squirt like it’s her favorite science experiment, like she’s studying the exact reaction your body gives each time her fingers curl just right, wrist angled so the heel of her palm drags firm, relentless pressure over your clit.
the sheets are a mess. so are you. her chest is pressed against your back now, skin sticky with sweat, breasts soft and bare against your shoulder blades. she smells like something familiarβ€”soap and gunpowder, your body wash maybe, grounding, but her voice cuts right through it, sharp and low.
β€œwake up.”
you don’t realize your eyes had drifted shut, body slipping somewhere between overstimulation and exhaustion. your body’s gone soft, pliant in her grip, your face flushed, your thighs still twitching from the last orgasmβ€”maybe the third? fourth?
she slaps your pussyβ€”light, wet, deliberateβ€”and your breath punches out of you.
β€œyou’re not finished,” she says plainly. β€œi’m not finished.”
and you cry out, not just from the sting but the heat building again, too fast, too muchβ€”like she’s carved out every bit of control you had left. her fingers are back, merciless, two then three, squelching wet and fast inside you. your arousal leaks down her palm, dripping off her wrist and pooling under your stomach.
you can’t even form words anymore. just soft sounds. the bed beneath you soaked.
her mouth is at your ear again. she’s whispering something filthy, but gentle in her wayβ€”β€œsuch a mess, sweet girl,” β€œgonna make me work for it?”—and your fingers curl into the sheets like you can ground yourself.
β€œyou feel that?” she asks, voice low, like a taunt. β€œmy fingers. my bed. my mess.”
you nod, desperate, already crying from the overstimulation.
yelena presses a kiss to your temple, then bites down on your shoulder hard enough to sting. you moan, body jostling as her pace never slows.
β€œgood. now give it to me again.”
and you will. you always do.
#.ᐟ.ᐟ#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova smut#yelena belova#yelena black widow#yelena belova mcu#thunderbolts*#thunderbolts#marvel#‷ yelena belova
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littlangelsinner Β· 20 days ago
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Above image is a pride flag with every color band represented by a NASA image. White is Earth clouds, pink is aurora, blue is the Sun in a specific wavelength, brown is Jupiter clouds, black is the Hubble deep field, red is the top of sprites, orange is a Mars crater, yellow is the surface of Io, green is a lake with algae, blue is Neptune, and purple is the Crab Nebula in a specific wavelength.
#progress pride flag#nasa#space art
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littlangelsinner Β· 24 days ago
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Carlisle Cullen smut drabble #1
Warnings : fem!reader, smut, oral (f!receiving), gentle Carlisle face sitting, pussy drunk, feral Carlisle, manhandling, he's just hella strong, aftercare, english isn't my first language.
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"That's... are you sure it's a good idea ?" Surely it wasn't. Well, he did ask, well, beg, to indulge in this little fantasy of his, and you did like the sound of that, but...
You kept overthinking while rubbing your thighs together, the lingerie he generously gifted you hugging your unique curves in a way that made Carlisle want to devour you whole. Hopefully it was in the way he humbly asked of you.
He smiled, patient and reassuring. He grabbed your hand, guiding you to stand in between his spread legs. It was soft and comforting, the way he massaged your upper thighs, how he held you close.
"What are you scared about, lovely ?" He said, pressing a soft kiss to your hip dip.
"What if you can't breathe ?" You whispered, grabbing onto his shoulders.
"I don't need to." He simply smiled and reminded you kindly. Carlisle gently leaned back, taking you with him. He steadied you with his hands on your waist, your knees on each side of his hips.
"What if I'm too heavy on your face..." Your voice shivered as his cold fingers slowly undid the laces of your bra. Warm, open-mouth kisses were placed along your throat. There would be no one else you would trust to touch the thin, fragile skin on your throat.
You wondered what he felt when he pressed his nose so close to your warm, tempting blood. Oh, love... if only you knew. The mix of hunger, lust, and love was maddening. Could you feel it in the way he took a long lap on the length of your throat? Or in the way his long fingers slipped in the delicate lacework of your white panties? Or maybe... in the way his pulsing member rubbed teasingly against your wet folds.
"Too heavy... do you doubt my strength, baby, mh ?" He grinned softly. Slowly, deliberately, closer and closer to his face. But his silly little baby couldn't stop worrying, her knees digging in the bed and stopping her from getting closer. Now, that just wouldn't do...
If you didn't want to move, fine... but he would get his goddamn meal.
He scooted under you suddenly, laying down on the bed, your soaking, plump pussy hovering above his eager mouth. He only gave you a millisecond, just enough time to push your panty to the side and for you to gasp before engulfing your sweet cunt with his lips and mouth. The shaky whine you let out at the unexpected slimy texture of his tongue sliding messily into your folds. He slurped at your precious fluids, drinking it greedily.
Carlisle had experienced it, and goddamn it, did you feel it? He ate you out so slowly, so good. His wet muscle massages your lips longingly, the pressure steady and firm. He moaned in your sensitive core; the deep sound vibrated across your buzzing skin. Your knees dipped in the bed, your mewls echoing in the room. It wasn't enough for him; it was never enough.
He kept going back and forth, teasing your hole, making your eyes flutter closed, and not yet touching your flushed clit. Not yet, at least. Thanks to his control and patience, he waited until you started rocking your face. But it was still so shy, so afraid. Your worry about his 'survival' is still there. His poor baby was scared; he couldn't have that.
"Come on, love... use me..." He mumbled, his lips completely covered in your juices. That's when he decided to push further. And by that I mean pushing his well-trained tongue into your twitching, eager hole.
And fuck, you reacted so well for him. You threw your head back, moaning his name so deeply it made his leaking cock pulse against the denim of his pants. Your worry seemed to vanish from your sweet Carlisle. He closed his eyes, swallowing thickly. It was so carnal, so erotic, and God, you felt so fucking good. Maybe too good.
He started to lose control, to lose himself in the warmth of your thighs pressing so deliciously around his skull. The desperate rocking of hips, the flesh around your bones caressing his jawline in the process. The free moans you let out, so good, so real. Fuck, he loved you like this. But he needed more. More, more, and more. Carlisle felt his mind go blank; the lack of fucking friction against his crotch was unbearable, especially when he knew he could find perfect relief nestled in between your thighs. He was having a taste of heaven, and like the sinful creature he was, he wanted to sink himself in it.
He let out a loud growl as he fought himself. But in the end he agreed on one thing. He will not stop until he is drowned in your flooding release. But it was when you whimpered, gripping tightly on his blond hair, that he snapped. Could you blame him, lovely ?
"P-Please..."
Fuck-
The beast in him soared. His hands gripped onto your hips firmly, hoisting both you up. Using his speed and strength, he sprinted to the wall, pinning you to the wall. He held you up, your thighs on his shoulders, legs dangling on his back as his fingers dug into your lower back. His face pressed firmly against your sopping cunt. He sucked on your clit roughly, slurping, ravaging your wetness in his suckling, and saliva dripped down your thighs and his chin.
You panted shakily, holding onto his hair for dear life as you tried to rock yourself against his mouth, seeking more, more, and more. You might be going crazy too. The knots in your belly felt tighter, like a spring ready to explode due to the pressure. You were close, close to losing your goddamn mind.
Carlisle felt it too; it spurred him on better than any drug could ever do. He pressed you harder against the wall, eating you with reckless abandon. He felt so goddamn horny, pressure deep in his lower belly. He couldn't help it. He started rocking his hips against the wall, rough and harsh, and in that moment you weren't sure if you were thankful or disappointed you weren't the one receiving those merciless thrusts.
"Need you... need you so much, baby. Give it to meβ€”fuck !" He moaned, pounding against the wall as he came right against the edge, just waiting to be tipped over. He thrust his tongue so deep in your pussy, hitting the spot that made you see stars.
"Carlisle…! Carlisle !" You cried out, your eyes flashing bright white as your body tensed almost painfully, your head leaning back against the hall as you came utterly and completely undone.
He drank your release as he exploded in his pants, his muscles tensing around you like a vice, marking the skin of your hips with his sheer strength. The pants and little sounds you were both letting out let you come down from your high slowly, almost tenderly.
Carlisle inhaled deeply, still buried against your heat, but the tremble in your thighs kept him grounded enough to regain his control. He finally seemed to notice the way he held you up against the wall. The grip on his hair was still firm, like you were preventing yourself from falling.
"It's okay, baby... shh... I got you…" He cooed quietly. Gently, he lowered you from his shoulders into his arms. The neglected bed welcomed you back as he laid you down on it, letting you relax and sigh in relief.
"I... I'm so sorry, love... You're okay ?" He murmured, kissing your temple and cheeks softly, like a silent praise. You did so well for me.
Your breathy chuckle reassured him, drawing his own smile in the corner of his mouth. He grabbed the blanket and pulled it up to you as you placed a grateful peck on his cheekbone.
"Do you want me to bring you the towel ? Or cuddles first ?"
"Mmh... I'd like a towel... it's too sticky..." You grinned.
Carlisle chuckled and nodded, using once again his speed, and came back within seconds with a warm, wet towel. "There you go, my love."
The cleaning was soft and calm. You talked in hushed tones, you forgiving his loss of control, him asking if anything hurt during the act. Eventually, you two found yourselves naked and cuddled up right up to each other. Carlisle caressed your hair and kissed your forehead. And who knows...?
A second round is so easily achieved...
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Leave a tip ? <3 / Masterlist
#twilight saga#twilight x reader#reader insert#carlisle cullen x reader#carlisle cullen#carlisle x reader#twilight
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littlangelsinner Β· 25 days ago
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Every year, your village sacrifices a young woman to the orc tribe so they won’t raid them like they’ve done to so many other surrounding villages. To some, it’s a great honor to be chosen to ensure the safety of the village, but most go kicking and screaming. Nobody knows what happens to the young women because they are never seen again. Still, rumors persist. Some say the orcs slice them open and eat them right there on the altar. Others say they force them to become servants in the homes of the higher-ups. A few even whisper that they impregnate them.
That last one is what intrigues you, so while the village elders bicker among themselves over who to choose, you slip away into the forest and make your way to the sacrificial altar. It’s a large stone table with runes carved into the sides and shackles at the four corners for the hands and feet. You strip down and lay yourself willingly upon it and wait.
Soon, you hear rustling. Your heart pounds in your chest. A moment later, orcs begin to emerge from the surrounding woods. Ten, twenty of them, all with green skin covering their bulky frames. Tusks protrude from their jaws. Their long black hair is pulled back into braids and ponytails. Some of them are shirtless and have tattoos inked into their skin, status symbols from their conquests, you’re sure.
They form a solid wall around you, and the biggest one with the most tattoos stands at your feet. He wears nothing but a loin cloth over his bulging crotch. He surveys you thoughtfully for a moment.
β€œThey have not retrained you?” he asks.
β€œI came by myself. They didn’t force me,” you tell him.
He tilts his head curiously. β€œNo one from your village has ever offered themselves to us willingly.”
β€œAre you going to hurt me?”
β€œNo, no, little one,” he chuckles, running his large, calloused hand over your body from your breasts down to your thighs. β€œWe’ve got something special in mind for you.”
He presses the heel of his other hand into his crotch, giving his bulge of firm squeeze, then he pulls his massive cock out and strokes himself to full hardness. You’ve never seen one so big before, much less taken one. With hands that completely encircle each leg, he pulls you closer to the edge of the altar and pushes them apart. He lets out a low growl when he sees that you’re already wet.
β€œSuch an eager little human,” he says as he strokes his thumb through your wetness, up to your clit, and back down again. You gasp when the thick digit slips inside you.
All around you, the others growl and paw at their crotches, leaning in for a better look, their hot breath on your face like a herd of bulls gearing up to charge. They can’t wait to get their chance with you, but this one, who appears to be the leader, gets to go first.
You are completely unprepared for the size of him as he forces your legs further apart and plunges his massive cock inside you. A cry rips its way from your lungs as he relentlessly fucks you, reaching depths you never thought possible.
β€œThat’s it, little one, let them all know how good it feels. Show them how well you can take it.”
It hurts a bit at first, but your body adjusts and soon, you are arching up into him, clawing at his thick biceps and broad shoulders. His body is easily twice the width of yours. He makes you come faster than you ever have before, but he doesn’t let up.
β€œShe’s such a sensitive little thing,” one of the others laughs.
β€œI bet she’s never tasted orc cock before.”
β€œI’ve got something she can taste.” You look towards the voice and see one of them with his cock out, slowly stroking it as he watches.
It isn’t long before the leader lets out a roar as he empties himself inside you. After he pulls out, the orc to his right yanks you over to him and plunges into you before any of his come has a chance to escape.
They pass you in circle around the altar like a toy, each one taking their turn with you. Cock after huge cock filling you up, firm hands pinning you down, although there’s hardly any need for it. Some of them toy with your clit just to watch the way you squirm and whimper. You lose track of how many times you come. Before long, you’re weak and trembling with oversensitivity, but you have no choice but to lay there and take it. You get pumped full of so much come that it drips down your thighs and some gets splattered across your stomach.
Once they’ve each had their turn, the leader takes a smooth stone from his pack. β€œYou wouldn’t mind holding this for me, would you?” he says before shoving it inside you. You gasp softly. β€œStay here.”
As your breathing evens out, you watch them set up a fire a few feet away and the smell of roasting meat soon reaches your nostrils.
Just as your stomach is starting to rumble, one of the orcs gets up and comes over to you and holds his hand out between your legs. β€œGive me the stone,” he says. You obey and push it out, and it is immediately replaced by his cock.
Your cries of pleasure mix with cheers from the campfire.
β€œGive it to her good!”
β€œJust leave some for me.”
Several of them come back for seconds. For hours it seems like, it goes on like this. For hours, they feast and fuck, and in between rounds, they stuff the stone back inside you to keep their come from seeping out.
Finally, the leader gets up and comes back over, but instead of asking for the stone, he helps you up and wraps you in a blanket and carries you over to the fire, where he sits cross-legged and perches you in his lap. He passes you a leg from whatever beast they’re roasting, and you chew into it ravenously.
β€œYou see, she has a good appetite, too. That bodes well for bearing our young,” he says proudly.
β€œShe’s a pretty one, too, isn’t she?” asks another one of them.
β€œShe is. Very pretty,” says the leader, stroking your hair. β€œI think I’ll keep her.”
#monster fucker#teratophillia#monster lover#orc fucker#orc lover#orc x human#orc x reader
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littlangelsinner Β· 28 days ago
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β˜… mean streak // dean winchester.
adult content | minors do NOT interact.
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synopsis. you're on top this time, chasing your release, but dean's being cruelβ€”taunting, teasing, and making you work for every moment.
warning(s). smut | f!reader | moc!dean | penetration | power dynamics | riding | degradation | rough sex | overstimulation | begging | sub!reader | dom!dean | dean being mean | slight taunting.
kari yaps. i have to thank (so should u) my gorgeous wife for inspiring whatever this is <3 i love yapping away w her about spn & dean all the time. 🀍
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you're straddling him, thighs burning as you struggle to keep the rhythm steady, but the look on his face makes it clear he's not about to help you. his hands rest lazily behind his head, biceps flexing just enough to make you clench around him involuntarily. he notices. of course, he notices. his lips curl into that cocky, infuriating smirk that makes your heart race and your body betray you every single time.
"what's the matter, sweetheart?" his voice drips with condescension, low and gravelly in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. "getting tired already? thought you said you could handle me."
he's testing you. he always does. the mark has made him sharper, meaner, but you can't deny how much it turns you on. the way he looks at you nowβ€”like you're his to take, to breakβ€”should infuriate you. instead, it makes you want to prove him wrong.
you plant your hands on his chest, your nails digging into his skin just enough to wipe that smug grin off his face. "i can handle you," you bite out, your voice breathy but firm.
"then prove it," he drawls, his hips staying maddeningly still beneath you. "come on, sweetheart. show me what you've got."
his cock stretches you perfectly, the thickness of him making every movement feel like an effort, but you refuse to let him see how much he's affecting you. you start to move again, rolling your hips slowly at first. the friction is delicious, but it's not enoughβ€”not yet.
his eyes darken as he watches you, his gaze dropping to where you're taking him in over and over again. he licks his lips, and the sight of his tongue makes you falter for a second, your movements stuttering.
"pathetic," he mutters, his voice like gravel. his hands finally leave their lazy perch behind his head, and for a moment, you think he's going to grab your hips, take over, give you what you need. but instead, he folds his hands behind his head again, smirking up at you like the devil himself.
"you're gonna have to work harder than that if you want to come," he says, his words cutting through you like a challenge. "unless you want to beg me to take over."
your jaw clenches, heat rising to your cheeks. you hate how much his words affect you, how much they make your body burn with need. you bite back a retort, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.
you start to move faster, your thighs trembling as you bounce on his cock, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the room. his chest rises and falls steadily beneath your hands, and you can feel the way he's holding himself back. you know he wants to take controlβ€”he always doesβ€”but he's making you work for it tonight.
"that's it," he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours. "keep going. make yourself come on my cock."
his words send a jolt of electricity through you, your movements growing more desperate as you chase the pleasure building inside you. the angle is perfect, the head of his cock brushing against that spot inside you that makes your vision blur.
but it's not enough. you need more.
"dean," you gasp, your voice cracking as you grind down harder, trying to get him deeper.
"what?" he asks, feigning innocence. "you need something, sweetheart? use your words."
you glare down at him, your nails digging into his chest hard enough to leave marks. "stop being an ass and help me," you snap.
his grin widens, and he lets out a low chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine. "not how this works, baby. you wanna come? you're gonna have to earn it."
you hate him. you love him. you hate how much you love him.
but you're not about to back down. not now.
you lean back, changing the angle, your hands sliding down to grip his thighs for support. the new position makes you cry out, the head of his cock hitting deeper, harder with every bounce.
"fuck, sweetheart," he groans, his composure slipping for just a second. his hands twitch, like he's fighting the urge to grab you, to flip you over and take control. but he doesn't. instead, he watches you with dark, hungry eyes, his jaw tight as he drinks in the sight of you falling apart on top of him.
"look at you," he mutters, his voice rough. "so fucking desperate. you love this, don't you? love making yourself come while i just sit here and watch."
you shake your head, but the whimper that escapes your lips betrays you.
"liar," he says, his tone almost teasing. "your pussy's dripping, sweetheart. she's soaking me all over."
you can feel it, the slickness making it easier to move, even as your thighs burn and your body trembles. you're so close, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, but you need just a little more.
"please," you whine, your pride cracking under the weight of your desperation.
his eyes narrow, and he tilts his head like he didn't quite hear you. "what was that?"
you swallow hard, your hands gripping his thighs tighter. "fuck, please, baby," you repeat, louder this time.
he smirks, clearly pleased with your surrender. "please what?"
"touch me," you beg, your voice shaking. "please, i needβ€”"
his hands are on you in an instant, gripping your hips so tightly you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. he finally thrusts up into you, his cock slamming into you so hard and deep you see stars.
"that what you needed?" he growls, his grip on your hips guiding you as he starts to fuck up into you, his pace brutal.
you can't speak. you can barely breathe. all you can do is nod, your nails raking down his chest as he takes over, his hips snapping up to meet yours with every thrust.
"fucking knew you couldn't do it on your own," he mutters, his voice strained. "you need me, don't you? need me to make you come."
"yeah," you gasp, your head falling back as the pleasure builds to a fever pitch. "yes, yes, yesβ€”"
he sits up suddenly, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you against him as his other hand slides between your bodies. his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight, desperate circles that send you hurtling toward the edge.
"come for me," he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. "come all over my cock, sweetheart. let me feel you."
his words are your undoing. you cry out his name as your orgasm crashes over you, your body shaking as waves of pleasure ripple through you. he doesn't stop, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release.
"fuck, fuck, fuckβ€”" he groans, his grip on you tightening as he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills into you.
you collapse against him, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. his arms stay wrapped around you, his lips brushing against your shoulder as the two of you come down together.
"good girl," he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost tender. "knew you could handle me."
you want to say something snarky in response, but you're too spent, too blissed out to care. instead, you let yourself sink into him, his warmth and his steady heartbeat grounding you as the world fades away.
#kari β™‘ writes.#moc!dean#dean winchester#dean winchester smut#dean winchester drabble#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester imagines#dean winchester headcanon
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littlangelsinner Β· 28 days ago
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────────── ᝰ bluemerakis ༝༚༝༚ ────
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❝ cream pie ❞
─ ۢৎ ─
pairing ୨୧ munch .ᐟ dean winchester x fem .ᐟ reader
warnings .ᐟ cussing, reader somewhat oblivious to the obscene meaning of munch, tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of a sexual!cream pie, mild food play, finger-sucking, oral f receiving, pet names. pls lmk if i forgot any!
synopsis ─ dean’s always poked at you for being a slow-eater. likewise, you’ve always poked at him for being a fast-eaterβ€”going so far as to accuse him of an early death should he continue at that pace. so, on the night of his birthday, he decides to make a change to his eating habits, becoming deliberately slow in his meal’s devouring. only, that meal is you.
word count ~ 5.4k
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The doors to the diner announced the next newcomer with a shrill tinkle of bells, and by the nature of human curiosityβ€”or a hunter’s paranoiaβ€”you found yourself glancing past Dean to witness a little girl ushered inside by an older woman.
You circulated a mouthful of fries as you watched the child bound over to the front counter, short, stubby finger outstretched to prod at a large print of the most obnoxiously decorated milkshake you’d ever seenβ€”a mound of cream, candy and sprinkles that must’ve accounted for half the drink’s weight.
β€œScoutin’ out for Sammy?” Dean asked suddenlyβ€”the words muffled by the burger he’d taken to devouring almost instantly after it’d arrived. Not even five minutes ago.
You forsook the view of the little girl to tune into the booth’s space, where the Winchester sat across from you with cheeks that had grown comically round. You couldn’t help but briefly stutter on your ground fries, perplexed by the plate that he’d wasted no time in clearing out. All that was left was the half-eaten burger currently clutched between his talons, where his lips closed in on to wrap around the bread-cocooned glory. The fries that had previously formed the burger’s first line of defence had not stood a damn chance.
With a thick swallow of your morsel, you cleared your throat to voice your concernβ€”Dean’s question hurled out the current window of care. β€œWhere the hell did all your food go, Dean? It literally just got here!” You reached across the table to take up your glass of water, downing a much needed sip that moistened the walls of your throat after the fries had brushed it dry on their downward journey.
Observing Dean, you almost felt like you were intruding on some intimate moment between himself and his burger, which he currently ogled from every angle in search of his next, perfect biteβ€”yet to swallow down the last bite he’d taken. The appetite on this man was astounding. And so was the seemingly unlimited mouth space that he seemed to cram full squirrel-style, given any and every chance.
At your perplexed pry, the Winchester strayed from his guilty pleasure to grace you with a stupidly triumphant look, his vigorous chewing coming to a halt. β€œJust gave it a tour o’ my insides,” he mumbled grossly, eyes narrowing with smug amusement while he went out of his way to part his lips in a messy, food-kissed smileβ€”just to get a rise out of you.
β€œStop that!” You groaned, hand coming up in a defensive spread to shield yourself against the view of the chunky stew plastered along his teeth. β€œYou’re disgusting,” you added with a meek giggle, chin perking slightly as you attempted to peer at him over the jagged horizon of your fingers.
You caught his Adam’s Apple bopping with a hefty swallow, the lump striding down the lean length of his neck, and it was a sight that made you feel safe enough to lower your hand once more. You watched him pass his tongue across both oil-kissed lips, savouring the essence with a pleasurable hum and smack of his mouthβ€”like he’d never known the first thing about table manners. He passed the remainder of his burger to one hand, the other now freed to gesture in your direction.
β€œHey!” he beganβ€”a clearer, more sophisticated sound. β€œI get my hands on somethin’ as delicious as this, I show her a good time,” he explained with a laughable seriousness. β€œYou, of all people, should know this.”
You’d taken to plopping another fry into your mouth while he spoke, but at that last sentence, you dusted the lingering salt grains from your hands and made a hasty swallow before answering. β€œThat you’re a munch?” You established innocently.
Dean perked at the observation you’d made many dinings priorβ€”wore the title like a badge of honour. β€œDamn right I am, babyβ€”and this was a damn preview,” he said with a charming wink, one that entertained his own, mental scheme.
β€œA preview of what?” You tested with a confused grin.
Dean’s glare turned the type of determined he usually reserved for an exhilarating hunt, his lips quirking with the utmost pleasure that you’d asked. β€œYou, me, and your good friend down southβ€”later tonight—” he began enlightening, but neglected to finish the sentence as he brought the last of his burger to his lips. Then, they crashed down onto the buns in an obnoxious motionβ€”gluttonously garnering every inch into the compartment of his cheeks.
He began chewing with difficulty, at first, but no look of panic flashed across his features, despite your own worry that he might’ve started choking at any instant. Then, he rolled the empty burger wrapper between his palms, eyes droning into you with an unvoiced expectancy while his jaw circulated like a cow’s. You returned his stare with a cluelessness, taking a second to mull over his incomplete sentenceβ€”and it was then that his insinuation clicked into place.
Your cheeks flushed hot at that, the hands you’d nestled at either side of your plate drawing into fists. β€œI was talking about the food!” You said accusingly, his innuendo drawing a disbelieved laugh from your lips.
β€œYeah, no, that ain’t what munch means, sweetheart,” Dean said smoothly, rocketing the crushed wrapper into the air before catching it and plopping it down onto his plate. His palms then came together in a scheming rub, eyes lowering to the menu beside his emptied plate. β€œSpeakin’ of food,” he hummed thoughtfully, and you lifted your chin to get a better view of the options he was scanning through. Light meals.
You shook your head lightly, turning your attention back to your own plate. β€œYou’re going to implode,” you remarked.
β€œHeyβ€”drop the freakin’ fuss,” he grumbled indignantly. β€œβ€˜Cause it just so happens that shit’s on the house for this birthday dude,” he added, hands coming up to gesture to himself almost proudly. β€œAnd I’ll be damed if I don’t do somethin’ β€˜bout it.”
You flashed him a hopeless smile, but didn’t push him on his appetite any further. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen Dean so unbothered and chirpy. As of now, life had been goodβ€”great, even. Bobby had offered to take care of this week’s hunts in order to free up Dean’s schedule, giving him the time to celebrate an event he hadn’t deemed worthy of a celebration for a long, long time. And Samβ€”ever the content third-wheel to you bothβ€”had taken the afternoon to kill time in his own Sam ways.
The deal you’d struck with the younger Winchester was that he get the morning to entertain Dean’s birthday, and you get the afternoon. The brothers were up at the crack of dawn to motor it over to some shooting range, where they’d completely obliterated the targetsβ€”earning dubious glances from the other, inexperienced hobbyists. You’d thought about asking why they’d opted for picking up a gun on their off-days, but Dean had returned with such a beaming smile that you’d swallowed the question entirely.
The only thing that mattered was that he was happy. Enjoying himself.
Eventually, Dean let out a decided exclamation, index finger coming down on the table to single out an option amongst the menu.
Your head lifted curiously. β€œWhat you got there?” You asked, plopping a fry into your mouth.
β€œThe best thing to exist after cars,” he answered vaguely and with a playful waggle of his brows, his head then averting to do a sweep of the diner.
β€œWith how easily amused you are, that could be narrowed down to an endless amount of shit,” you scoffed lightly.
β€œT-t-t,” he silenced with a finger in your direction, eyes still doing an intent scan of the space. When he managed to spot a waitress, it almost looked like his eyes could’ve slipped the keep of his sockets. His lips pierced to execute a perfect whistle, hand waving through the air to beckon her overβ€”which she made haste on.
You turned your attention to the waitress as she pranced on over, fluster heavy in her rosy cheeks and sheepish smile as she glanced between yourself and Dean. β€œWhat can I get for you both?”
β€œOne o’ these bad babies, please,” Dean requested with a show to the menu, hands then coming up in a thankful clasp as the waitress nodded lightly in response. β€œSweet,” he murmured contently, his attention turning back to you. β€œAnythin’ for you?” He asked politely, but the hitch of his singular brow as he glanced between you and your stacked plate told you that he knew the answer.
β€œI’m good, thanks,” you told the waitress, who gave a small nod before scampering off. You turned back to Dean with a light shake of your head. β€œOh, I know your heart hates you. You’re going to die an early death at this pace,” you scoffed, glancing down to where you began picking through your cooled fries in search of the crispy pieces.
β€œYeah, whatever, happy deaths,” he answered lightly. β€œYou gonna eat any o’ that?”
You glanced up to Dean’s famished eyes hounding the pot of edible gold still crowning your plate. β€œYes, I’m gonna eat it!” You answered almost instantly. β€œI’m starving!”
β€œWell, you don’t look it,” he scoffed with a dramatic widening of his eyesβ€”like he couldn’t believe you’d fault him for asking when your plate currently housed twice the calories of his. β€œMan, if my heart hates me, then your stomach hates youβ€”teasin’ it like this with the one bite an hour ritual you’ve got goin’. You’re playin’ hard to get with the damn thing,” he huffed amusedly.
β€œIt’s called savouring it,” you retorted with a light shake of your head. β€œYou should try it some time.”
β€œHeyβ€”I savour plenty, alright?” His brows perked pointedly, eyes lowering down your figure and straying to some view below the tabletop, where they lingered with a mischievous tongue poking at the inside of his cheek.
You caught on immediately, apples of your cheeks rounding with a grin. β€œI can’t even with you,” you sighed dramatically; warmly.
Dean’s eyes lifted back to you, forming a wink that he’d come to reserve just for you. β€œAnd yet you do, anyways,” he chuckled, then straightened in his seat with some new resolve. β€œAlright, c’monβ€”start stuffin’ up on fries. For every bite you don’t finish, your ankle’s gettin’ ganked—” he paused to reinforce the threat by nudging the toe of his boot against yours, β€œβ€”and then I’m eatin’ whatever’s left.”
β€œWhat are youβ€”five?” You giggled, and then his boot came forward to deliver the first of its taps against your ankle. You let out a squeal despite its gentle nature, hand flying forward to scoop up a handful of fries with a grin heavy on your lips.
Dean’s arms crossed as he watched you with equal amusement. β€œIt’s called buildin’ character,” he said. β€œConsider this your motivation to eat faster.”
β€œMaybe you should try eating slower!”
He tsked in response to that, then offered a tiny nod. β€œYeah, alright, alright, I’ll try it sometime,” he entertained, jerking his chin at you. β€œC’mon, wrap it up and we’ll go half on that apple pie I ordered.”
⋆ .Λšβ‹† ≐ ⋆ ˚.⋆
On the drive back to the motel, Dean had rattled Baby’s entire infrastructure with some deafening rock, his jaws testing out new heights as he accentuated every tune with utmost enthusiasm. He’d glanced your way a couple of times to enlist you into his self-hosted concert, still blaring along to the music, but you’d only managed to pick up on a few phrases here and there through your time spent as an audience to his hunting playlists.
Whenever a song came on that you recognised, you’d chime in to harmonise with Dean in a word or two before dropping off and taking to watching him ensue into musical madness, a grin heavy on your lips. God, you loved him. You loved him so much. And you loved seeing him recognise how much of his free-will he could cash toward buying his own happiness, instead of worrying about everything and everybody elseβ€”especially on a day like today.
The drive back to the motel was a cheery one you’d mentally documented as a day to remember. When you’d eventually pulled up at the motel, Dean had laid the engine to rest with an intense glance in your directionβ€”one that you’d come to recognise as something to question. Because if you didn’t, there was no telling what was on a mind as carefully guarded as his.
You met his gaze with light confusion, acknowledging the silence he’d coupled with his dramatic shift in demeanour. β€œIs everything okay?”
Much to your relief, Dean’s features grew soft, his lips spreading with a thankful smile. β€œEverythin’s perfect,” he soothed quickly, but no less gentle. β€œJust. . . thinkin’ β€˜bout todayβ€”how you and Sammy went outta your way to make this day so freakin’ awesome. I appreciate itβ€”I do,” he added with a light chuckle, his head tilting slightly as he drank you in with love-struck eyes.
You shifted across the seat until your leg was flush against Dean’s, your hand coming up to gently cradle his jaw. β€œFirst off,” you began, thumb stroking gentle lines over the apple of his cheek, and you felt the unbridled weight of him melting into your holdβ€”because he’d always felt safe enough to entrust all of him to all of you. β€œWhen it comes to you, nothing will ever be out of the way. You’re worth the timeβ€”worth taking that moment to think about how we can celebrate the man who tries so hard to keep us all together. You’re always jumping at the opportunity to do things for everybody else, but tonightβ€”on your nightβ€”I’m going to honour everything that you are. And reflect on how blessed the world is to have its very own Dean Winchester. How blessed I am.”
Dean’s eyes twinkled at thatβ€”like a starstruck fanboyβ€”and you felt honoured to be the recipient of his admiration. His love.
β€œSecondly,” you continued. β€œThis day is all about youβ€”officially, and everythingβ€”there’s a birth certificate out there to prove it. But I want you to know that you’re the type of person worth celebrating every single day. And I do, quietlyβ€”with every glance I steal of you because I’m just so thankful that we exist at the same time. And even in a life that gets as shitty as ours, I’m glad that it’s you I get to share the small breaths of a break withβ€”you that I’m laughing it up with over a burger and beer, you that I get to share a cuddle with each night that feels like it could fend off every worry, and you, in all that you are, reminding me every single day of what good looks likeβ€”and why this world is worth saving. You’re the face of all things precious and scare in this world, Dean.”
At those words, Dean cracked with a twitch of his lip, giving rise to a smile that was simultaneously hurt and healed. As he gazed into your eyes, you saw their beautiful, green depths begin to glimmer at the borders. At the first comprehension of his growing tears, he was quick to dip his head into concealment, jaw turning an inch to catch his lips onto the hand you’d cradled his cheek within.
There, in thick silence, he pressed a long and tender kiss to your palmβ€”as though trying to brand himself with the taste, touch and scent of you. A gesture to remind you just how much of himself he’d devoted to loving you, living for you, and embracing everything that you meant to him in ways that didn’t always embody words.
You sat there for a few seconds, watching as he became one with youβ€”choosing you as his safety confines while he worked to sort through the feelings he’d never been apt at acknowledging this gently; vulnerably. Eventually, he stirred from your hold, but not to forsake it entirely, his hands outstretching to frame you tenderly at the neck.
β€œGod, I love you,” he whispered with a shuddered breath, the tears he’d tried to quell with a moment of silence proving to be stubborn. But they came as gentle streams, providing just enough moisture to cast a soft sheen amongst his cheeks. β€œI love you so damn much,” he reinforcedβ€”the sound gruff, raw and passionateβ€”and then his lips were pressed against yours with a hunger that felt desperately pushy and shy all at once.
You reciprocated the kiss with equal devotion, hands coming up to wrap around his wrists as you steadied yourself within his passionate grip. His thumbs rubbed gentle lines down the ledge of your jaw as his kiss continued to deepenβ€”not particularly lustful, but just a very physical, passionate vow of loyalty. A show that he was yours, and all yours.
For a while, your lips remained entangled in a fervent dance, the world all around you dissolving into nothingness. What was out there didn’t matter, anyway, not when your whole world was right here, right beside you.
⋆ .Λšβ‹† ≐ ⋆ ˚.⋆
Back in the motel, you and Dean had slunk inside with the intent to not wake up Samβ€”only to find that when you’d flicked on the lights, the younger brother was nowhere in sight. For a second, you both stood in dumbfounded silence, heads swinging to scan the modest space that he couldn’t have possibly been hidden away inβ€”not with the height on him.
Then Dean let out a soft noise of realisation as he left your side to stroll into the kitchen, hand outstretched to pluck a note from the fridge’s barren door. He brought it toward him with a focused furrow of his brows, eyes scanning over the information before he let slip a smug chuckle.
You wandered over to Dean curiously, and just then, he turned to you with the note waving about. β€œSammy’s slipped out for the nightβ€”called a cab and said us naughty teens could have the place to ourselves,” he explained with a heavy, cheeky undertone as he glanced you over.
You drew up beside him with a smile to entertain his implications, arms coming up in a cross. β€œOh, yeah? Guess we better make the most of it, then,” you murmured, leaning yourself against the counter bordering the fridge.
Dean wandered close enough for the fabric of his jacket to graze your arms, head lowering to yours in a painfully slow manner. β€œHm. . . what’d ya have in mind?” He asked before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then to the bridge of your nose.
Your nose scrunched playfully beneath his lips, eyes screwing shut at his very welcomed trespass. β€œI think—” you began, but were quickly silenced by the press of his lips against yours. After a few, greedy kisses with a point to prove, he pulled away to let you finish. β€œI think,” you repeated with a breathless laugh, eyes falling open once more. β€œYou get the gist of it.”
β€œThink I damn well do,” he grinned, coming in for round two, but you stopped him with a finger to the lips.
β€œNot so fast, Casanova,” you steadied with a smile, making a point to tap his lips before pulling away. β€œI’ve got a little surprise for you, first.”
β€œWhatβ€”it ain’t this?” Dean said ruefully, gesturing to all of you. β€œC’mon, man, quit teasin’ me.”
β€œI’m not teasing you,” you giggled before pushing yourself off the counter to round him in favour of the fridge. β€œI made you something.”
He hummed interestedly. β€œWell, colour me intrigued,” he drawled, turning to face you as he leaned himself against the counter to watch after your every move.
You opened the fridge and briefly ducked inside, rounding onto the point of your toes to grab the mystery meal off the top shelf. Beside you, Dean uttered a whistle of admiration, and you scoffed at his apparent leering. You lowered yourself with the prize in hand, shifting it to a one-sided grip as your free hand moved closed the door.
Dean studied the dish with interest as you strode over to him and placed it onto the counter. A part of you felt a sense of annoyance as you reflected back to the diner, where he’d gone and ordered himself two slices of pie despite your protest. You hadn’t wanted him to have his fill of it before tonight, where the dessert pie you’d baked him had been waiting for its time to shine.
Slowly, you pulled back the wrapping to reveal the dishβ€”a dainty cream pie.
Dean took a moment to flutter his lashes, his lips forming a thoughtful poutβ€”like he was trying to find the right words to decline your offer. You’d been afraid of this very reaction after he’d eaten enough pie for the next month. β€œMore pie?” he remarked with an almost pained expression.
You let out a loose scoff, tossing the wrapping onto the counter. β€œI told you not to order another slice of pie at the diner!” You exclaimed, head shaking lightly.
β€œYeah, but I just thought you were hasslin’ me over the eatin’ thingβ€”not because you went and baked an entire one,” Dean laughed before moving to take a swipe at the topped cream. You watched as he crowned the pad of his index finger with a considerable cluster, then brought it up to his lips for a taste. After swallowing the smooth sweetness, he smacked his lips appreciatively. β€œBut this tastes freakin’ amazing,” he praised with a warm grin. β€œThanks, baby, I’ll savour it as much as the diner’s pie.”
β€œYou’ll do that and more,” you shot back with a pretence of annoyance, but you couldn’t fend off the grin peaking through. β€œCause it was hard work making this thing!”
He cocked a brow smugly. β€œReally? β€˜Cause when last we hit the sheets, I seem to remember doin’ it in five minutes,” he said pointedly, teeth flashing a lewd grin as he gave an obnoxious wink.
Your jaw dangled at his shameless obscenityβ€”alluding to a few nights ago where you’d begged him for a quickie, and had him finish inside of you. β€œDean!” You exclaimed, hand coming forward to swat his arm lightly. β€œThink you’re a funny man, yeah?”
β€œI think I’m hilarious,” he replied charmingly, hand diving down to take another swipe at the cream. Just then, he brought it up to your face to slather the side of your cheek, which made your mouth curl around a gasp as you seized up on the spot.
β€œAsshole!” You sniped with no real anger, hand coming up to wipe some of the cream from your face, but Dean caught you at the wrist before you could eradicate the stickiness entirely.
β€œFun-ass,” he corrected cheekily, gaze holding yours as he leaned himself down to wrap his lips around your index finger. You felt his tongue swirl around it to gather the cream, and even once he’d sucked it clean of all tangible sweetness, he kept up the wet whirlpool.
β€œDean,” you laughed weakly. β€œStop.”
Eventually, he freed your finger from his lips with a jarring pop, his chin wagging subtly with the pride of his action. β€œWhat?” He asked innocently, releasing your hand. β€œI’m just findin’ ways to make eatin’ this pie more excitin’.”
β€œVery innovative,” you giggled. β€œAnd messy.”
β€œDarlin’, don’t you worryβ€”when I make a mess, I clean it up right after,” he remarked.
Suddenly, you became keenly aware of the cream still slathering your cheek. β€œOh, is that so?” You retorted. β€œBecause the records aren’t exactly reflecting right now.”
Dean’s hands came up in a gesture of his defence. β€œHey, give me a chance,” he chuckled, then moved to wrap a hand around the nape of your neck. There, his fingers fanned the hair draping your neck, and he pulled you into his frame as his jaw made a dive toward your face.
You felt the warmth of his tongue drag a gentle trail up the curve of your cheek before drawing back to repeat the motion. You squirmed against the humid wetness, hands coming up to his chest as you let out a strained giggle. β€œThat tickles, you weirdo!”
Eventually, he pulled back to face you, and the view of him was silly enough to send you into another giddy fit. The bridge of his nose was dotted with cream, and the trail dissipated along the curve of his glistening lips only to reappear within the divot of his chin.
β€œYou look ridiculous!” You remarked with a warm laugh, finger lifting to wipe some of the cream off the button of his nose and present it to him.
β€œYeah, well, you taste delicious,” he mocked childishly, linking his finger with yours to wipe the cream from the tip before plopping it into his mouth. He jerked his chin to the counter behind you, wiping his hands together. β€œCould ya pass me a paper towel, please? Behind you.”
Just then, an idea sparked to mindβ€”shameless, and a little dirty, but fun. β€œDon’t bother,” you replied, and Dean’s brows shot up in surprise. Just then, you turned toward the pie, hand coming forward to scoop up an impressive amount of cream.
Behind you, Dean let out a soft huff, like he’d had an idea of what game you were about to play. Turning back to him, you hovered your cream-laden hand out in front of you, your other chaste one slipping beneath the hem of your tank to lift it up the expanse of your stomach. You terminated the stripping beneath the curve of your breasts, revealing enough of your abdomen to spur the Winchester on.
β€œJesus fuckin’ Christ,” he breathed, his eyes unashamedly lowering down your exposed stomach before darting back to the cream cradled within your palm.
Without a word to spare, you began spreading a slow and messy trail across your stomachβ€”starting at the divot between the curves of your breasts.
β€œOh, I think I like where this is goin’,” Dean chuckled absentmindedly, lower lip drawn into a bite as he watched you paint the sticky trail down the length of your stomachβ€”where you stopped just shy of your short’s hem.
Once you’d planted a generous path of cream, you brought your hand up to your lips to lick the last of it from existence, other hand still anchoring your shirt in its unobstructive place. β€œRules of the game,” you began with a grin, Dean reciprocating one far more exhilarated. β€œLeave no mess behindβ€”should be easy for you, he who always cleans up after himself,” you poked lightly.
β€œEasy?” He tutted cockily. β€œI’m gonna nail this out the freakin’ park. And then nail somethin’ else,” he added with a wink.
β€œOkay, mr. Big Talk, enough of the chitchat,” you laughed, free hand beckoning him forward.
Dean obliged with an eager, yes, ma’am, before inching his way toward you, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead, then at the crook of your neck before he pulled back to gaze you in the eye.
β€œHappy birthday,” you murmured with an adoring smile.
β€œHappy freakin’ birthday to me, indeed,” Dean breathed in astonishment, taking a moment to lower his eyes along the candy trail that paved way to his personal jackpot down under before glancing back up at you. Then, with a determined smirk playing at his lips, he ducked from your view.
His hands took up firm grip at your waist, anchoring himself there as his lips took to your cream-kissed skin like the famished jaws of a zombie. Your head lolled back at the sensation of his tongue swirling along your skin, your free hand coming forward to plant itself within the jagged field of his hair. There, your fingers curled around unruly wispsβ€”as if needing to ground yourself against the skilled tongue currently deconstructing your every senseβ€”and your lips parted with a soft moan.
Dean, as if spurred on by that singular, sweet sound, added teeth into the mix, nipping lightly at the surfaces he’d licked clean before continuing to lower himself down your stomach. His grip at your waist became firmerβ€”more desperateβ€”and as if he couldn’t restrain himself any longer, his fingers grazed down your sides to slip beneath the waistband of your shorts and underwear. There, he tugged ruthlessly, successfully managing to pull the items down and over the curves of your hips and thighs.
You aided his efforts to strip you with a shimmy of your legs, allowing the clothing to plop to the ground. Shortly after, Dean’s fingers made a return to your waist, his tongue doing one, last greedy sweep of your navel to terminate the creamy line. He pulled back to gaze up at youβ€”nose, mouth and chin slathered with the remnants of your gameβ€”but his pupils were blown wide with arousal, his teeth bared in a grin that told you he wanted to taste more of you.
β€œJesus, baby, you’re gonna ruin me,” he uttered gruffly, breathlessly, and then without waiting for your input, he dipped into the yearning warmth nestled in the nook of your thighs, where his nose struck your clit with all the right force.
Like a starved and thirsty man deprived of everything essential to life, his tongue swept through your folds with the intent to garner every last inch of you. You let out a loud moan at that, hip collapsing slightly into the support of the counter, but Dean’s handsβ€”anchored at your hipsβ€”tightened to remind you of his reliability, pulling you back onto the support of his mouth. There, his grip lowered to your thighs, squeezing lightly before they tightened mercilessly with the intent to grind himself deeper into your warmth.
Tears began to well at your eyes as the stimulation consumed you, head snapping back and eyes screwing shut to get lost in the abyss of Dean’s making. You felt, and heard, every flick and swirl of his tongue around your clitβ€”the sound obscenely audible as wet flutteringβ€”and it was enough to deduce you to a stew of mindless praises.
β€œFuck, Dean, fuck,” you breathedβ€”whimpered, tightening your hold within his hair until you were tugging meanly at his scalp. But he didn’t mind itβ€”if anything, it elicited his own grunts of pleasure, which reverberated into your folds and added to the tension you felt building within your core.
He drew your swollen clit into a whirlpool, spinning it round and round his exploitative tongue with a moan of enjoyment. You could have listened to him utter that sound a hundred times over, and it jabbed at your core to know that Dean would never fail to find joy in pleasuring you.
β€œFuck, baby, so wet, β€˜nd so fuckin’ good,” he murmured against you, the words slurred by his discontent to disrupt the contactβ€”and pace. He made a dive toward your dripping entrance, gathering the amalgamation of saliva and arousal attempting to slip away unnoticed, before he briefly slipped into your entrance.
You let out a broken gasp at that foul move, hips stuttering further into his jaw, but he steadied you upright with an accomplished chuckle to rattle you from within. His tongue retreated to drag back up your folds, re-establishing its rightful place running laps around your clit.
β€œS’alright, baby, I got you,” he murmured into you, adding fuel to the fire you felt about to erupt within you.
β€œI’m gonna come,” you muttered breathlessly, thighs clamping around his hold.
Dean gave a hum of approval at that, but kept up his slow and steady pace, only intensifying the stimulation with the pressure of his tongue.
The bundle within you began to grow and grow at your centre, tightening into an inexplicable mass that you craved to let go of. β€œFuck,” you spat, eyes clamping shut as you chased your high. β€œDeanβ€”don’t stop,” you breathed. β€œDon’t stop.”
β€œAin’t ever stoppin’, baby,” he mumbled, hands squeezing your thigh pointedly.
β€œCan you. . . go faster,” you stuttered out, eyes faltering open and chin dipping to glance at him. β€œPlease, I need it,” you whined softly.
Dean didn’t stray from his work to glance at you, and his pace didn’t budge, either. β€œCan’t,” he declined. β€œGotta eat slower, remember?” There was a teasing flick across your clit, and you couldn’t help but let out a disbelieved laugh, eyes falling shut once more as you melted into his controlled pace.
β€œAsshole.”
β€œFun-ass.”
──────────────────────
a/n ─ happy birthday to pookie!!! and this is a birthday gift bc dean’s a simple manβ€”he’s a munch. fuck birthday presents & fuck birthday cake, this fucker just wants to devour you. best birthday song? the filth outta your mouth when his tongue’s surfing your clit. said who? me. dean told me. in my wet dreams last night. as a bonus for shits & giggles
thank you for reading! all likes, comments & reblogs are deeply appreciated
tags ─ @gibson-g1rl @bohemianblasphemy @fallbhind @titsout4jackles @ultravi0lence14 @angelicjackles @starzify @honeyryewhiskey @deansbeer @figthoughts @floralscented @walkslikesummeractslikerain @deansbbyx @whisperingdaze @maddie0101 @lieutenantchaos @spn-reader @bakugotypecrashout @jaydensluv @misatxox
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other works ─ supernatural masterlist
Β© bluemerakis ─ do not plagiarise or steal any of my works.
#bluemerakis’ fics ۢৎ β‹†Λš. ݁#munch o’clock .ᐟ#munch .ᐟ dean winchester#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x fem!reader#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester smut
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littlangelsinner Β· 29 days ago
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As a chubby girl. This made me smile and laugh. This is so in character for Dean too
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π˜Ώπ˜Όπ™” π™π™Šπ™π™: 69 w/ Dean Winchester
a/n: i'm actually so proud of myself because i'm exploring all different kinds of dynamics, and i can already tell that it's going to help further my writing abilities. like opening up new doors and what not. anywho, this is nasty and dirty and happy reading!!
masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3
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β€œI’m going to crush you.” 
Was your response to Dean bringing up the fact that he had wanted to try out 69ing.
β€œBaby, you’ve sat on my face before, I think I’ll be okay.”
You blink at him, slow and assessing before shrugging, because he did have a point there.
β€œFine.” You say, beginning to shred yourself of your clothes. He balks, wide eyed, but nevertheless scrambles excitedly off of the bed to get naked too, a large smile on his face.
β€œYou wanna do it now? Like… right now?” Unable to keep the utter glee out of his voice. β€œNo time like the present. Plus, it’s an intriguing idea.” There’s a quick second of silence before you playfully add, β€œAlso, I kinda want to get eaten out right now.”
β€œThat’s my girl.” He praises, his voice fond. Always, always fond.
Once you’re both as naked as the day you were born, he coaxes you over with a cheeky pat to his chest. β€œCome to papa.”
You snort. β€œYou’re disgusting.”
β€œYeah, yeah, and you love it.” 
β€œI guess so.” You sigh in false exasperation, but there’s a small smile on your face as you turn your back towards him, settling your ass on his lower thighs. You throw a seductive look over your shoulder.
He doesn’t meet your gaze though, because his eyes are too busy taking in the sight of your naked ass, large, calloused hands dragging themselves over the fatty flesh. His tongue peeks out, swiping at his bottom lip.
β€œLike what you see?” You can’t help but ask. β€œYou know I do.” His words are choked and he retracts a hand just to place a stinging slap against your skin. You flinch and yelp before shimmying higher.
β€œNaughty.” You chide, but nonetheless don’t stop moving until your pussy is over his mouth and you’re face-to-face with his half hard cock.Β 
β€œAlways so big, Deany baby.” You coo, hand gripping his base and running a teasing tongue right up the side, trailing along the pulsing vein.Β 
Dean sucks in a breath from below you before attaching his lips right onto your clit, sucking on it with a vigor that sends you forward. You tighten your grip on him as you moan, stroking him up and down.
You don’t hesitate to take him into your mouth as you gather your bearings, swirling your tongue around the head to collect his precum, his semen a bit salty and bitter on your tastebuds, but nonetheless, you sink lower and lower, swallowing around him as you go.
β€œFuck, sweetheart.” Dean groans, the vibrations of the low timber of his voice shoots a shiver up your spine. You just hum, stroking what you can’t swallow.Β 
The pleasure that you’re giving him seems to give him a new kind of energy, because his own tongue plunges into your entrance, scooping out your wetness selfishly. You tremble from above him, eyes squeezing shut but you don’t stop.
Both of his hands spread your ass apart, his thumb teasing your asshole slightly just to send you jolting. You detach yourself from him, throwing a look over your shoulder to find that he looks all but pleased with himself.
β€œDickhead.” You murmur, but reattach your lips to him, taking him down your throat again, going deeper and deeper until your eyes are watering and spits foams at the corner of your mouth.
Dean eats you out with abandon, eyes closed and stubble slightly burning the skin of your inner thighs. He’s dragging you down over his mouth, forcing you to ride his face as he alternates between suckling on your clit and actually eating you out.
His legs are shaking and you’re pretty sure you aren’t fairing much better, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head at the feeling of your orgasm nearing.Β 
You swallow around him repeatedly before pulling off gasping, stroking him faster, gripping him harder, determined to drag him over the edge with you.
A particular graze of his teeth gently catching on the hood of your clit nearly barrels you straight into nirvana.
β€œCumming! Fuck, Dean – cum with – please…” You beg suckling at the head of his tip, coaxing out more precum – you’re all but sucking the soul out him, bless his heart.
His thumb drags over and over your over sensitive nub, and your hips thrash wildly over his face before stilling, your orgasm overtaking you. You take to suckling harshly at the vein running up his cock once more, and he finally cums with a shout. You hurry to cover him with your mouth, swallowing his load.
You rest your head on his thigh as you attempt to come down from your orgasm, chest heaving up and down.
β€œYou okay?” You can’t help but rasp, your throat raw and spent.
β€œI think… you just took years from my life. From my dick.”
The way he says it so blankly causes you to laugh, shoulders rising and falling with the sound.
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ΰ³ƒβ€βž· my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus
#β™‘ ― nsfmeau !#kinktober#kinktober 2024#kinktober day four#plus size reader#x plus size reader#plus size!reader#x chubby reader#chubby reader#dean fanfiction
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littlangelsinner Β· 29 days ago
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Every time someone headcanons a canonically bubbly and eccentric character with depression an angel gets its wings
(πšŸπšŽπš›πš’ πšœπš™πšŽπšŒπš’πšπš’πšŒπšŠπš•πš•πš’ 𝙸 πš‘πšŽπšŠπšπšŒπšŠπš—πš˜πš— π™ΌπšŠπš‹πšŽπš• πš πš’πšπš‘ 𝙿𝙳𝙳 (πš™πšŽπš›πšœπš’πšœπšπšŽπš—πš πšπšŽπš™πš›πšŽπšœπšœπš’πšŸπšŽ πšπš’πšœπš˜πš›πšπšŽπš›), 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 πšπš›πšŽπšŠπš :] )
#as someone who was very bubbly and really liked/wanted to be happy so i smiled through depression; i needed more characters like me#the only character i’ve ever seen who i was like β€˜you’re just like me. you have exactly what i have.’ was sayori ddlc which is… sad#more depressive bubbly characters who aren’t cartoonishly hiding it; i want some earnest rep for the love of god#so i guess i gotta be the change i wanna see in the world πŸ’₯πŸ’₯πŸ’₯#i also made this in like less than an hour cause i’ve been tired at work; be so niceys to me#gravity falls fanart#gravity falls art#gravity falls fan art#gravity falls headcanons#gravity falls
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littlangelsinner Β· 29 days ago
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jacklesverse bingo 2023 | MASTERLIST
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most of these will be 18+ stories that include sexual or dark themes, individual warnings will be added for each one
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hello y’all this is my first bingo and I’m so excited to start and finish my @jacklesversebingo card.
β€” eris
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guidebook for sinners turned saints [smut, 8.8k]
descriptionβ€” dean uses the sexiest seduction methods to get laid when he keeps getting cockblocked by his gaming girlfriend.
mon cΕ“ur s’ouvre Γ  ta voix [smut, 5k]
description β€” aka. part II of mattel. finally, in the privacy of your home, you find the willpower to make the afternoon all about dean (as you’d originally hoped) when he tries to distract you from your plans.
and their name was treason [gen, 2k]
description β€” with the help of charlie, sam and Dean have become prolific con artists. but after losing his work, dean’s left wondering how do you con a con artist?
the love letter collection : part II [fluff, 2.6k]
description β€” being a dreamwalker, seeing every universe, having a hot boyfriend. there’s a million perks to that. this is the soft version.
seven [smut, 5.2k]
description β€” dean would rather be doing something else with his time rather than doing research, he’d rather be doing her.
the politics of knife fighting [flangst, 4.5k]
description β€” tom tried to live a normal life after getting away from his hometown, but he should’ve known his little slice of heaven would go bad eventually.
closer than this [smut, 2.2k]
description β€” something quick. something hot. in between busy tasks. when everyone else is distracted.
hero of the half-truth [smut, 3.7k]
description β€” you can’t decide whether it’s a punishment or not when you go to see soldier boy knowing that he’s trying to keep you safe from everything in his life
demonology and heartache [smut, 4.9k]
description β€” dean is a devout catholic and has never known a life outside the church, all his resolve is broken by the temptation of a hellish seductress.
mattel [smut, 2.9k]
description β€” looking for some new toys to spice up the bedroom, Dean discloses his insecurities and leaves you thinking of ways to help erase them.
same book but never the same page [fluff, 5.6k]
description β€” part III of the love letter collection. still dreamwalking. chasing after someone who can destroy worlds. and dean is jealous of his variants. what could go wrong?
two hearted [smut, 4.8k]
description β€” playing pretend, doing risky things, improv, Valentine’s Day is more than β€œunattached drifter Christmas” now.
sweet kansas honey [smut, 1.5k]
description β€” invited by her friend to a bee farm, but Dean wasn’t invited to their cute day out. Dean gets pouty… and, ya know, horny.
colder than my heart, if you can imagine [gen, 2.3k]
description β€” you and soldier boy can’t seem to get along, but it may be because of something deeper than hatred or jealousy.
the love letter collection : part I [smut, 11k]
description β€” being a dreamwalker, seeing every universe, having a hot boyfriend. there’s a million perks to that. this is the sad version.
god, if you are above [smut, 1.8k]
description β€” technically part two of demonology and heartache (which I haven’t posted, yet). an au in which dean is a priest and the reader is a demon with an obsession to corrupt him.
the pros and cons of breathing masterlist [smut, ?]
description β€” dean gets his bloodlust under control and becomes a baker. then he meets you and there's a whole other lust that takes him over. were you his unmaking or purpose?
stone flower [fluff, 1.9k]
description β€” aka. part II of I believe in a thing called loved. quickly attempting to find out what’s wrong with his girlfriend, dean makes a dreadful (objectively funny) discovery about what’s actually going on
I believe in a thing called love [smut, 4.2k]
description β€” dean thinks you’re playing a game but he slowly realises you’re not.
right people, wrong place [smut, 3.3k]
description β€” aka. part II of and their name was treason. confrontations and unexpected turn of events. the truth and the consequences.
when broken is easily fixed [fluff, 2.7k]
description β€” priestly broke up with tish (yes!) uh, i mean… you watch him be pathetic and sad with his big wet green eyes and decide to do something about it.
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taglist
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main masterlist
dean winchester masterlist
beau arlen masterlist
soldier boy masterlist
jensen ackles masterlist
jake gray masterlist
boaz priestly masterlist
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Β© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGSΒ 
do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
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#jacklesversebingo23#d#bingo card#bingo card masterlist#jacklesversebingo23 masterlist#dean winchester x reader#jensen ackles x reader#jason teague x reader#boaz priestly x reader#tom hanniger x reader
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littlangelsinner Β· 2 months ago
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LOST & FOUND πŸ«‚ CH3
After Mommy has disciplined you with the cane, you feel the need to properly apologize to her, which was Daddy's idea, who promises you a reward if you do so.
soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader
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WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Pet names. Dom/sub undertones. Domestic discipline/caning. Cunnilingus. Tongue fucking. Cuntwarming? Vaginal fingering. Squirting. Subspace. Aftercare. Unprotected piv sex. Creampie. Cockwarming. (More notes under the cut!)
WORDS: 8.1k πŸ”·οΈ READ ON AO3 πŸ”·οΈ 1–2–3–4–5–6 7–8–9–10–11–12
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A/N: This chapter is a direct continuation of Chapter 1 and a summary of the dynamic you can expect from the rest of the story: a love triangle with F/F and F/M and F/F/M intimacies. I will note what you can expect in each chapter (indicated by the color of the header image and by the different colors in the warning tags), but just remember that our Reader is bisexual/bi-curious, so we'll have a multitude of different sex scenes here. ⚠️Also warning: it starts a little rough, sorry. Speaking of: before you hate on Mommy in this chapter, remember: 1) this is an established (fictional!) BDSM relationship with implied established boundaries and rules, 2) she is a Domme, 3) she is human and can have bad days too, 4) this is fiction, 5) please keep reading, it'll all get resolved! This is a HURT and comfort story after all!
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Chapter 2 πŸ”·οΈ Chapter 3 πŸ”·οΈ Chapter 4
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Several months later
You startle awake to loud voices. It takes you a long moment to realize where you are. In your bed, on your stomach. Mommy's voice in your ear, muffled, and suddenly you remember why your butt hurts so bad.
It's hazy, there were a lot of tears and pleading words, apologies and desperate cries, and it all started with a baking tray and flying cookies, the smell of burnt dough in the air, heat all around you, a stumble, a crash, herbs and soil raining to the ground.
It wouldn't even have been that bad if Mommy hadn't come into the kitchen at the exact moment you had lost your balance and dropped everything, your surprise for Daddy ruined as well as her precious herb garden. You knew Mommy cooked sometimes, but why she'd been so upset upon seeing the broken pot and plant, you had no idea.
But she was furious, screaming at you as you shrunk away. β€œI'm sorry, I'm sorry,” you cried, trying to clean up your mess, but all you did was make it worse. You even burned yourself on the hot sheet, destroyed the rest of the plant by stepping on it, and it was Mommy's flat hand on your cheek that brought you out of the headless panic and into a deep-rooted shock.
β€œTake a breath,” she ordered, staring at you. β€œAnd another. Okay? Good, then clean this up. Now.”
And you did, with shaking hands, but you somehow managed to scoop up burnt cookies, dirt and plant remnants, threw it all into the trash, then wiped the floor and washed the baking sheet. And Mommy watched, with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes darker, her face a stoic angry mask. As soon as you were done, you looked at her, and couldn't help but shed a new batch of tears, and some more, until you were back into your hysterics, sobbing and apologizing.
β€œGo to your room,” she told you. β€œWait for me.”
Through the tears, you nodded and shuffled away, barely making it up the stairs. You felt horrible, and her cold demeanor wasn't helping, it only made it worse. You knew that look of disappointment all too well, had seen it on your own mother many times. You were a failure, you knew it, you'd forgotten it for a while, distracted by Mommy and Daddy's care, but you remembered now.
You were a failure.
And you sat in your room and waited, crying soundlessly, your lips tingling, feeling numb and way too much all at the same time. She came to you ten minutes later, in her hand a thin wooden stick. You blinked, your breath hitching. You knew what it was, had seen it on her wall, had seen videos of it being used on others. And it scared you. A lot. She'd disciplined you before, but only with her hand, not with that thing.
β€œMommy?” you whimpered, staring at her.
She only shook her head and pointed to the floor. β€œTake off your pants and underwear and kneel on the floor, head down, ass in the air. Come on, don't make me wait.” Her voice was harsh, and all you could do was follow her words.
But as you knelt there, waiting for your punishment, the panic came back full force. You were shaking so badly you could barely stay in your position. More of your own pathetic pleading and crying and whining noises filled your ears, your heart beating out of your chest, your throat tight, lungs burning. Mommy ignored you.
When the first blow hit your rear, you screamed and jolted away. β€œStay where you are!” she said sternly. β€œAnd count with me, come on! One.”
β€œOne...” you croaked out. The cane cut through the air again and met your soft flesh. β€œTwo,” she said, and you repeated it barely able to speak. β€œYou deserve this, don't you? It's for your own good. You need this. Embrace the pain, think about what happened,” she explained between hits, three, four, five, you were shuddering on the floor, sobbing helplessly into your folded arms as the pain crashed through you, every impact making you flinch badly.
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. She eased her blows a little as she talked between them, her voice strangely calm despite the relentless flick of her wrist. β€œYou ruined something that was very dear to Mommy. I know it was an accident, but you were clumsy and careless. You could have hurt yourself as well. We can't have that.”
Ten, eleven, twelve. The thirteenth blow was particularly hard again, seemingly cutting into your skin, making you jerk forward with a pained yelp. β€œAnd you fell into old habits. We did not spend all that time trying to make you better if it only takes one stupid mistake to bring you back to square one.”
Fourteen, fifteen. You were a gasping mess on the floor, knees shaking so badly you could barely keep your weight on them. Sixteen, seventeen. Your whole body was aflame, your mind spinning, words repeating, every new hit adding to the already existing pain, and it wouldn't stop. You tried your best to breathe through it, like Mommy had taught you, but the thin wooden stick hurt more than you could have imagined. Your lungs ached with every sharp inhale. Eighteen, nineteen.
For the last one, she suddenly grabbed your hair and pulled you to your feet before she pressed you face-first into the wall, holding you by your nape. β€œThink about what you did and what you can do better. If you can't breathe through your attacks, I will use pain as a distraction again. Maybe it'll help you more than whatever Daddy does to you...” She paused, then said: β€œTwenty.”
The hit came with a sudden whoosh, and you screamed, jolting forward against the wall, legs shaking, your skin burning, tight and bruised and hurting. β€œTw-twenty...” you croaked out, holding your breath, eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down your face.
As her words echoed in your head, you had to give it to her: you were indeed distracted. The stinging pain spreading just beneath the inflamed skin of your buttocks was thrumming through you in an unrelenting fashion, scorching pulses that burned through any other concerns or thoughts or doubts, emptying your mind. You couldn't even pick up on the slight poke at Daddy's seemingly useless methods of helping you through your anxiety attacks. Nothing mattered: just the cleansing sharpness of Mommy's cane.
β€œGood. You took it like a big girl,” she said behind you, her hand easing down your back, hovering above your warm skin. β€œBetter than I expected. Doesn't look too bad either. Now take a cold shower, it'll feel better.”
With that she exited your room, leaving you trembling. At least you'd stopped sobbing now. For a long moment, all you could do was lean against the wall, trying to calm your erratic heart. Your throat was dry, cold sweat made you shiver. Your focus was still on the burning welts on your skin, horribly pulsing streaks all across your butt cheeks. You remember them vividly as you'd eventually inspected them in the mirror.
The cold shower was another torture, but afterwards you did indeed feel better, clean, cleared of your doubts, knowing that Mommy was right. You needed and deserved every single hit for making such a mess, for breaking down about it. As cruel and cold as she had been, you saw reason in her actions. She had to know what she was doing, of course she did, she was your Mommy, she only wanted the best for you.
In her own way...
Looking back though, you have to agree with Daddy. It has been too much. 'That sounds a bit excessive for a simple act of clumsiness,' he'd said. It has been, but of course you hadn't told him everything. Not as detailed as you'd liked. The anxiety attack, the uncontrollable sobbing, the hysterics. The inevitable tumble into the dark abyss, unable to come back out on your own. Mommy's cleansing slap and those cane hits... they had helped, brought you back, but...
But it still has been too much. And it has been different too. Usually when she disciplines you (she always tries to avoid saying punishment because you're not being punished for being anxious but disciplined for falling back into old patterns and allowing the anxiety to control you again), when she uses pain as a distraction, she cuddles you after, tells you what a good girl you've been, makes sure you're okay, but that time... she has just left. Something has definitely fueled Mommy's anger.
Shifting under the covers, trying not to put pressure on your butt (though whatever Daddy has put on your skin did help a little), you listen a bit closer to the voices from across the hall (you shouldn't, but it's hard to ignore them too). They're loud, as is usually the case when Mommy fights with Daddy. She is the fiery one, while he is the calmer counterpart, though he can be angry too, and loud. This morning, they are both equally agitated.
β€œShe was being hysterical!” Mommy screeches.
β€œAnd you think twenty fucking cane hits will help with that? That's not how we should deal with her anxiety!” Daddy says, more or less calmly, but you can hear the emotion in his voice through the walls.
β€œShe was calmer after...”
β€œOf course she was! Because she was in pain!” He is getting louder.
And she is getting quieter, which only means she's getting more emotional. β€œShe can handle it...”
β€œYou overdid it. It was too much. Don't let your frustrations out on her...”
β€œI did not let my – Ugh! I can't do this right now...”
There's a pause, then a door opens and shuts with a bang. It opens again. Now the voices are directly in the hallway in front of your door. Daddy's voice is quieter.
β€œWhat's the real matter here, babe?”
β€œNothing...” Mommy sounds defeated.
β€œYou don't just snap like that. Tell me.”
β€œI just had a bad day, it happens...” You hear footsteps pacing the wooden floorboards.
β€œNot like that. What happened?”
β€œNothing, it's fine. I'll apologize to her, okay?”
β€œGood. But I'm not done with you...” His tone changes, even quieter, softer, a little challenge behind the words. A smirk.
Mommy gives a soft laugh, a bit flat but there's the same smirk in her voice. β€œLater, papito...”
When one pair of footsteps leaves along the hallway, your door is being opened quietly. You press into the covers, pretending to sleep. Your mattress dips, a hand comes to rest on your hip.
β€œRise and shine, pumpkin,” Daddy whispers, leaning over you to brush his lips against your temple, the only part of you peeking out from under the blanket.
You turn slightly, blinking your eyes open, giving him a tired smile. β€œMorning, Daddy,” you mumble. He smiles back and gives you another peck, slowly working his way down your face until he meets your lips. He's braced over you, hovering inches away, and you sigh softly into his kiss.
After he comforted you last night (by letting you come on his thigh), he'd washed you and himself with a warm wet cloth, then tucked you into bed and left, promising to talk to Mommy. He didn't seem to have gotten behind her unusual burst of anger, but you trusted him to dig deeper. All in good time.
β€œHow do you feel?” he asks quietly, carefully rolling onto his side, cradling you in his arms.
β€œBetter,” you whisper. Your butt still hurts, is tense and tight and throbbing, but it'll be okay. You're sure.
β€œWanna make breakfast with me? I'll supervise, you work?” he mutters, nuzzling your neck. You nod with a soft giggle. β€œI think Mommy would like a nice smoothie. Should be easy enough, right?”
He helps you out of bed, picks a soft yellow sundress for you to wear (decides on a white lace thong that sits comfortably between your bruised ass cheeks), then brushes your hair and puts it into a long braid that falls down your back. He tells you to brush your teeth, and you do, and when you're done, he takes your hand and leads you down to the kitchen.
There he raids the fridge for fresh fruit and vegetables and gives them to you to chop up before he helps you pour it all into the blender with some oat milk. It's fun to do this with Daddy, standing next to him as he lets you hit the button, as you watch how everything turns into a rather unappealing green slush. After filling the thick drink into a tall glass, he puts a metal straw into it and holds it, then nods for you to follow him back up the stairs to Mommy's room.
Your heart beats faster when you approach the door. He stops and hands you the drink. β€œYou can do this, pumpkin,” he tells you and leans down to kiss your cheek. β€œIt'll be fine. Anyone can have a bad day, so we shouldn't hold a grudge, right?” You nod, looking up at him with a timid smile.
Then he raises his hand and knocks on the door. You flinch at the noise, inhaling sharply. β€œCome in,” you hear Mommy's voice through the wood.
Daddy gives you a gentle nudge, whispering β€œSee you later, kiddo.”, and then you open the door and slip into her room. She's sitting at the large vanity, watching the door through the mirror, a brush in her hand, her long black hair cascading down her back.
β€œGood morning, Mommy,” you whisper a little intimidated. β€œI... I brought you breakfast...”
She turns around on her chair, watching you, before she gives you a soft smile. β€œOh honey, that's so sweet of you, come here,” she says and holds out her hand.
You walk towards her, placing your hand onto her palm. She pulls you against her, taking the smoothie from your other hand and putting it down on the vanity. β€œListen, sweetheart, Mommy is –”
β€œI'm sorry, Mommy,” you say at the same time, biting your lip. She smiles at you, her eyes crinkling softly.
β€œI know you are, baby girl,” she says. β€œBut I am too. I shouldn't have disciplined you like that, it was too much. Mommy just had a bad day. I'm sorry for taking it out on you,” she adds quietly, wrapping her arms around you as she buries her face in your neck, inhaling deeply.
You hug her back, still a little stiff, perched between her legs. β€œI didn't mean to disappoint you,” you murmur into her.
She shushes you. β€œIt's alright. Water under the bridge, okay?”
A hum escapes you, and for a moment you just stand there, holding her as she holds you, her warmth seeping into your stiff limbs. Eventually you take a deep breath, her sweet perfume filling your nostrils, before you tilt your head a bit to look at her.
β€œMommy, I... I want to make you feel good, uh, better,” you say in a breathy whisper. β€œIf you have time for it...”
She chuckles softly. β€œI always have time for you, sweet girl. Might be best to take the day off anyway.” She pauses, then sighs. β€œWell, I can stay home, but I have to work through my emails. But that shouldn't be an obstacle, right, kitten?” she whispers, then slowly leans you back fully and smirks at you.
You feel your cheeks burning up, already sensing a little throb in your core at the prospect of making her feel good. Her hands grab your waist and push you away gently, allowing her to stand up. You realize she's wearing a black silk robe (and only that), open in the front, giving you a good glance at her perfect breasts and her smooth mound. You force yourself to look up into her face.
β€œCome with me to my office,” she tells you and grabs your hand, taking the smoothie with the other, and then guides you into the adjacent room.
You've been here a few times before, usually perched under her desk, so the rest of the interior doesn't really matter to you. It's a bright room though, large windows, floor to ceiling, letting in the already warm rays of the morning sun. There are bookshelves lining one wall, and a wild array of other stuff in front of another. You always wondered what it is that Mommy does, aside from being a successful business woman and establishment owner.
She definitely has a lot of hobbies. There are mannequins, a sewing machine, an easel and a bunch of canvases stacked behind it. A low table with painting supplies. A camera in another high shelf next to large books probably filled with photographs. And then there's the corner you don't like to look at often, where the cane hangs from a hook, next to a flogger, a whip, a paddle and other tools like gags and harnesses and belts. Sleek black leather accentuated with wooden elements.
Mommy sure is a woman of many talents. But none of that matters to you now as she motions you to crawl under her desk, a large space made of a long wooden tabletop sitting on two drawer shelves, it's open enough to allow whoever enters the room to have a good view beneath. It's where you spent your time before, whenever she works from home and asks you to keep her company.
It's been a strange request at first, but seeing her relax due to your presence and ministrations is always something you're looking forward to. As you crawl under the table top, she puts the smoothie down next to her laptop and sits down in her chair. Despite her chaotic corner of numerous activities, her desk is surprisingly bare. No clutter, just a lamp, some pencils and a notepad, her laptop and phone on it.
You settle right in front of her, and she doesn't waste a second before she spreads her legs, her robe falling open even more as she gently guides you between them. Her warmth and scent radiates off her when you get closer to her center. She shifts on her chair, getting comfortable but allowing you to reach her just fine. Her hand remains on your head as she tilts it so you can rest your cheek on her thigh.
Looking up at her, you see her smiling, her eyes warm and already darker than usual. β€œYou really wanna make me feel good, baby?” she whispers, watching you closely. You nod eagerly as you shift on your knees, the heels of your sock-clad feet poking into your rear. The pain and tightness of the welts is still there, but you can ignore them for now as you focus on the woman in front of you.
She leans back, opening her legs further, her hands resting casually on the armrests of her leather chair. Her eyes stay on you as you approach her core, your hands reaching up to caress her inner thighs. You hold her gaze, your face already flushed from what lies ahead. Swallowing the excess saliva gathering on your tongue (your oral fixation flaring up), you lean in and up and press your lips to her flat stomach, slowly working your way lower.
She's calm, watching you closely, and eventually you break eye contact and close your eyes, focusing on kissing along her pelvis and down her smooth mound, going by feel and warmth alone. Your hands move around her waist as you settle between her legs, holding onto her as you bury your face in her sex. There's a slight shiver when your tongue teases along her slit, your lips brushing against hers, so soft and warm.
You pepper her labia with kisses, tilting your head slightly before you ease your tongue between them, dipping into her slick. Breathing into her, her scent filling your nostrils, you feel more little twitches, her thighs pressing slightly against your sides. You retrieve your arms and rub your palms against them, noticing the hint of goosebumps on her skin as you continue licking up and around her lower lips.
When you press your tongue against her hooded clit, she gives a soft little moan, enough encouragement to keep going, to dig deeper, to kiss and lick and nibble on her soft flesh until you feel her clit throbbing against your lips. You keep your focus on the sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking your tongue against it, closing your mouth around it, sucking it hard, and she grows more vocal, her hips jerking against your face.
She taught you early on how to properly satisfy a woman, not always on herself, teaching you about your own body as well. As awkward and embarrassing as it had been in the beginning, you are grateful to know what you know now, and you find pride in being able to get her off this easily. It only takes a few concentrated licks and nibbles, a bit of teeth grazing and a pointed tongue prod, and she is shaking in her seat, thrashing her head back as she claws at the armrests, loud moans echoing through the room.
Her first orgasm comes in waves, twitches of her thighs, her cunt pulsing against your chin as you keep sucking on her clit. You look up then, watching her come undone in front of you, under your ministrations. It sends deep shudders down your own body, settling low in your stomach, a throb to your own clit as you stimulate Mommy's.
You keep going, because she'd usually tell you when to stop, and it takes more than one orgasm for her to be fully satisfied. With your hands rubbing over her trembling legs, your mouth suctioned to her throbbing clit, you watch her, waiting for any indication, any hint of what she wants now. She's breathing harder when she meets your gaze, red spots on her cheeks, her bare chest rising and falling faster.
One of her hands moves down to your head, caressing your hair, playing with the braid. She doesn't say anything, just gives the tiniest of nudges, and you follow the hint and move from her clit down to her slit. She's a lot wetter now, and you lap up every drop you come across, savoring the sweet taste as you move your tongue between her labia, teasing at her entrance, the little flutter to her cunt not going by unnoticed.
You take long strokes from her hole to her sensitive bud, filling your mouth with her taste and essence, feeling her clit thrum and her cunt clench. Tilting your head down, closing your eyes, you press firmer against her, her labia enveloping your cheeks as you push the tip of your tongue against her entrance. She mewls softly, the hand in your hair tightening, as you start pushing your tongue in and out in quick succession, moving the muscle up and down, creating obscene squelching and slurping sounds that ring loudly in your ears, a motion she's taught you, shown you, done to you so many times.
You feel the drop of your own arousal in your underwear, your body tensing as you focus on the reactions of hers. With your tongue buried in her pulsing pussy, you use your nose to push against her clit in a steady rhythm, your whole face warm and wet by now as she clenches around you. Your hands curl around her legs, trying to hold them open, but she's twitching so hard you feel the tremors against the sides of your head as she tries to close her thighs around it.
It doesn't matter, you're in too deep, literally, only focused on her pleasure, her pleasure giving you pleasure, she could smother you right that instant and you wouldn't mind. Your head is blissfully empty, all you feel and taste and see and hear is her. She's getting louder, shifting on her chair, grinding her pelvis against your face as she fucks herself on your tongue, harder, faster, a desperate little dance you volunteered for.
And when she comes, she throws herself back into the chair, gasping breathlessly, her whole body spasming against you, thighs tight against your ears, taking another sense from you as you almost drown in her juices. Her cunt clenches hard around your working muscle, and you slowly pull your tongue out when she relaxes, lapping up what she gave you. You savor the little twitches, the uncontrollable jerks of her hips, the deep exhales from above you.
As you're still licking at her slit, she moves her hands to brush stray hairs out of her damp forehead. You look up at her, lips closed around her clit, when she smiles at you. β€œWell done, sweet girl, thank you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and raspy, the low cadence sending shivers down your spine. β€œThat's enough for now.”
You lean back almost reluctantly, licking your wet lips, blinking your clumped eyelashes apart. You feel her hand wiping at your face, her thumb pressing into your mouth. You give it a tentative suck, your eyes on her. She looks calm again, relaxed, serene.
β€œMommy's gotta work now,” she tells you, pushing her thumb harder onto your tongue. β€œDo you wanna stay with me while I do?”
You don't even hesitate when you nod, your hands finding her wrist as you suck on her thumb, the motion pulling you deeper into the safe space you enjoy so much.
β€œDo you want a toy to play with?” she asks, your mind momentarily wandering to the lowest drawer of her desk, filled with vibrators and dildos and smaller items to entertain you (and her). It's a tempting thought, but you shake your head, hollowing your cheeks as you give her digit another deep suckle.
She chuckles softly. β€œBut I do need my hand, sweet pea,” she says with a raised eyebrow and a wink.
You blink at her, your mind too empty to comprehend her words. She caresses your face, then slowly withdraws her thumb. You're at least alert enough to lick up the excess drool dripping from your now unoccupied lips. Swallowing hard, you look at her, but she already knows the empty gaze you shoot her and guides your head back between her legs.
β€œKeep me warm and wet, hmm, baby girl? Can you do that?” she says softly, and you nod, already pressing your lips against her throbbing clit. β€œBut don't make me come. I gotta concentrate.”
β€œOkay, Mommy,” you mumble against her, leaning your cheek against her thigh as you inhale deeply, taking in her scent. She closes her legs a little around you, caging you in, holding you tightly, and you melt into her, eyes fluttering closed.
β€œGood girl,” she says, patting your head before she shifts on her chair one last time. Her praise almost drowns out the quiet noises of her fingers flying over the keyboard as she starts working.
You relax into her, sitting on your knees, the hurt on your butt forgotten, the drying wetness on your face ignored, the tingle between your own legs unimportant. Occasionally you give her labia a few kisses or a gentle suck, licking up along her seam, but as your mind grows silent, you slip more and more into what Mommy and Daddy call subspace, a state of mind where there are no worries, where you're not anxious, where nothing matters but the warmth of the person next to you.
It's a peaceful place where you lose all sense of time. Snuggling into Mommy's cunt or suckling on Daddy's cock, no matter where or how or when, it's your personal reward for making them feel good, for allowing yourself to let go, an escape you wished you'd known about sooner. But now you do, and it's enough. A beautiful, blissful void, and you're floating, weightless, soft breaths and a steady heartbeat, sunken into yourself.
How you come out of it is usually a blur. A gentle caress to your cheek, a little nudge, some sort of physical touch that grounds you back to the place you've initially drifted off in. A deep exhale against warm skin, your cheek pressed between wet flesh, your own thumb wet and numb between your tight lips. Your eyelids flutter when you feel another caress, nimble fingers digging into your hair, soft presses to your scalp, a soothing little hum you slowly recognize as Mommy's voice.
β€œWake up, mi amor,” she whispers from above you, her accent an extra vibration through your skull.
You inhale deeply, smacking your lips, or trying to, slowly lowering your hand as you blink your eyes open. Mommy's cunt is right there, soft and sleek, and it's an instinct to raise your hand again and caress her puffy labia.
β€œNo need, sweet cheeks,” she tells you, but you keep pushing your fingers up and down her mound, head resting against her thigh, watching the lazy movements of your digits.
Mommy sighs loudly, but doesn't do anything to stop you after all. So you continue, dip your fingertips into her slick, teasing at her clit, as she relaxes into her chair, her hand stroking the side of your head. You rub and caress, prod and poke, eventually pushing a finger into her entrance, feeling the tight clench of her walls. Her soft mewls sound in your ears, when a sudden knock disrupts the peace, making you blink and realize you're knuckles-deep in Mommy's cunt.
Mommy just issues a noise akin to a sigh or groan, and the door to her office opens. You remain focused on her, plunging your digit in and out, curling it slightly, rubbing the pad of your finger along her squishy flesh until you feel her twitching against you.
β€œIs she still at it?” Daddy's voice sounds from somewhere behind you.
β€œShe just came back,” Mommy whispers, her voice just a deep breath. β€œYou know how she gets after, the insatiable little thing...”
You don't really register what they're saying, doesn't matter, all you see and feel and smell is Mommy. You add another finger and continue your motions, pushing in slightly faster, slightly deeper, pressing harder against her sensitive spots. She shifts in her seat, her hips bucking against your hand, her breaths more labored.
Footsteps round the desk, and as you blink against your haze, you notice Daddy's head next to Mommy's. He winks at you before he presses his lips to her cheek. She turns her head and uses her free hand to grab his nape, keeping him bent over to capture his mouth for a deeper kiss. β€œSo you like me again, hm?” Daddy hums against her, and instead of answering him, she just kisses him harder.
You watch them as you finger Mommy, her wetness rivaling your own as they continue to make out. You squirm on your knees, chewing on your swollen lip, your fingers moving in and out of Mommy's clenching hole, and fueled by their soft groans and moans, you dive in again and close your lips around that throbbing bundle of nerves in front of you.
Mommy gasps, jerking against your face, and you keep watching her from under your lashes. Daddy holds her face while propped onto one arm, resting on the table above you. The way their lips and tongues meet is a sensual dance you enjoy watching more and more (which wasn't always the case). Now it only arouses you more, seeing them so intimate.
With your mouth tight around Mommy's clit and your fingers deep in her spasming cunt, you shift on your knees until you can press the heel of your foot against your own throbbing core, the sudden sensation making you moan softly. You keep a steady rhythm, dipping your fingers in and out, sucking on her clit, rubbing yourself against your foot, feeling how your arousal drenches the fabric of your panties, creating a delicious friction that makes your empty head spin.
You come at the same time as Mommy, though while your orgasm rolls through you like a gentle wave, hers is a ravaging waterfall, cascading down with power, and as you keep pumping your fingers into her, her cunt convulses, spraying you with jerky jets of her essence as she moans loudly above you, barely contained by Daddy's mouth, and even though you were quite irritated the first time she's squirted right into your face, you barely flinch now, lowering your mouth to lick up everything you can catch.
She shudders on the chair, slowly relaxing, and it's Daddy who appears next to you as he pulls you away from her quivering core. Her chair rolls away, and he kneels beside you, wiping a cloth over your drenched face.
β€œWell done, pumpkin,” he says softly, smiling at you. You blink your eyes into focus, your lips trembling without Mommy's warmth against them. β€œI think Mommy feels a lot better now, don't you, babe?”
A soft groan sounds from behind him in response. β€œOh yeah...” she sighs.
β€œYou earned yourself a reward, baby girl,” Daddy whispers, as he helps you crawl out from under the desk.
When you stand, he has to hold you, because your legs feel numb and tingling, fallen asleep from sitting on them for so long. The aftershocks of your own orgasm definitely add to the little unsteadiness as well. His hands cup your warm face as he looks down at you. You still feel like floating, head too empty to fully focus on him or the change of position.
A slurping sound echoes in your ears, and when you look past him, you see Mommy closing her lips around the straw in her smoothie. She winks at you when you meet her hooded gaze. Slowly you come back to yourself, a soothing warmth flooding your limbs and core. Daddy pulls you to the side, and you notice him sitting down on the edge of the wide desk, his hands on your waist as he nudges you between his legs.
β€œYou with me, pumpkin?” he says softly, tilting his head.
You look up at him, your hands resting on his strong thighs. β€œYes, Daddy,” you whisper, giving him a timid smile.
β€œMy good girl.”
He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, before you tilt your chin up a bit more to meet his lips. As he moves his tongue against yours, slowly, sensually, you feel a presence behind you. Mommy's hands rub up and down your back, smoothing out your dress, before they disappear under the hem, and you gasp against Daddy's mouth when you feel her fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties.
She pulls them down slowly, crouching behind you, and you lift your feet automatically to step out of them. β€œHmm, you enjoyed yourself already, didn't you, sweet girl?” she muses, leaning against you after she's straightened up again, her firm breasts pressing against your back.
Without breaking your kiss with Daddy, you move your eyes to see her dangling your drenched underwear on her finger. Heat crashes into your cheeks, slowly seeping down your body, and the arousal that's been draining into the bit of fabric of your thong, now drips out of you unrestrained. A garbled mewl escapes you as you rub your thighs together and squirm on the spot.
β€œOh don't worry, darling, Daddy's gonna take care of the little itch, hmm, won't you, papito?”
Her voice is silky smooth in your ear, letting your eyelids flutter as your tongue wrestles softly with Daddy's. He watches you out of hooded eyes, his grip on you firm and strong, unrelenting. With Mommy still pressed against your back, sandwiched between them as you are, you feel her hands rubbing down your arms before she guides your hands between Daddy's legs, right to the not-so-subtle bulge in his pants.
He finally breaks the kiss, moves his lips along your cheek to your ear, his beard scratching along your soft skin, causing you to take a shuddering breath as you fill your lungs with air again. β€œAre you ready for me, pumpkin?” he breathes against the shell of your ear, his lips warm and wet, his breath even warmer. You shiver, and before you can answer, Mommy's hand slips around your front and down between your tight thighs, dipping right into your slick.
β€œOh she's ready alright...”
β€œI've been asking her,” he says sternly, still nuzzling your neck, but clearly addressing Mommy, who sighs loudly and pulls her hand back.
You turn your head to look at him, biting your swollen lip, before you nod.
β€œSay it,” he whispers, meeting your eyes.
β€œI'm ready for you, Daddy,” you reply quietly. He raises an eyebrow.
You blush deeply, knowing what he wants to hear. Swallowing hard, you look down to where your hand is resting on his groin. β€œI'm... ready for your...” Another deep inhale, that flicker of shame rolling through your mind before you push it away again. β€œYour cock,” you whisper.
You look up at him, but he still watches you with a certain expectation, his eyes dark, his jaw set.
β€œI'm ready for your cock, Daddy,” you say again, still quiet, but it's finally enough for him. A smile breaks on his handsome face, and he leans in to kiss your cheek.
β€œGood girl,” he says softly. β€œDo you think I'm ready for you too?”
You give his bulge a little squeeze, feeling the hardness beneath the fabric. β€œYes, I think so,” you whisper.
β€œLet's find out, hm?”
He gives you a wink, and you start unbuckling his belt, then fumble with the button and zipper of his pants. Mommy is there, leaning in from behind you, helping with the task. Daddy stands for a moment and lets his two women pull his pants and underwear down his long legs before he sits down on the edge of the desk again. Mommy leaves you as she gathers his clothes on the back of her chair.
You look up at his face instead of at his angrily bobbing cock, mesmerized by the hunger in his eyes. His hands tighten around your waist, and in the next moment he lifts you effortlessly, and you end up straddling his lap, knees on either side of his hips, legs spread (almost) impossibly wide over his thighs, your crotch pressed tightly against his. Your hands find his shoulders as you adjust on his lap.
β€œDress off?” you hear Mommy's voice from behind you.
β€œHmm, what do you think, baby girl? Do you want Daddy to see how you bounce on his cock? How your little cunt swallows every inch of him?”
You inhale sharply, deep shivers crashing through you as he talks like this. β€œYes,” you breathe out, and as soon as you do, Mommy's hands are there to pull the sundress over your head. Without it, you are left completely naked because he's (deliberately) forgotten to put a bra on you this morning. A tingle goes through you.
You shift on his lap, fingers curling around his broad shoulders again. He watches you, his hands rubbing along your sides before he puts them large and warm and heavy on your waist, his long fingers almost teasing your spine while his thumbs rub over your fluttering stomach. Behind you, another set of hands eases along your thighs back to your rear, and when Mommy touches the welts on your ass cheeks, you feel her lips brushing against your shoulder.
β€œI'm sorry, mi amor,” she coos. β€œI thought it wouldn't look so bad. Does it still hurt?”
You meet Daddy's gaze before you turn your head and try to look at her out of the corner of your eye. β€œIt's okay, Mommy, it's already feeling better.”
β€œMy brave little girl,” she whispers, planting more kisses along your back while her hands fully cup your ass now, the pressure sending jolts of pain through you but you force them down, try to ignore them as you bite your lip and take a shuddering breath.
β€œLook at me, pumpkin,” Daddy orders, and you do, stiffening on his lap. β€œThis is for you,” he starts, his hands holding onto your waist as Mommy lifts your hips until you hover just above Daddy's cock. β€œYou take what you need from me, okay? You decide the pace. Me and Mommy will do anything to take care of you.”
You smile softly at him, bracing on your knees, your thighs trembling slightly, your hands digging into his shoulders. β€œThank you, Daddy,” you whisper.
β€œThank you, sweetheart, for being such a good little girl for us,” he replies, tilting his head as you squirm slightly on top of him, the tip of his cock brushing between your labia as you do so.
Before you can fully focus on indulging him (or letting him indulge you?), a last speck of doubt crashes into your mind. You blink at him, lips trembling, opening your mouth to protest, knowing you haven't been a good girl at all yesterday and have the marks to prove it, but he shakes his head, his dark eyes so intense any words dissipate right off your tongue. You close your mouth and swallow, nodding slightly.
And then you concentrate on him, looking down as one of your hands moves to close around his shaft as you guide him towards your entrance. It's taken you many months to get accustomed to his length and girth, a lot of training, a lot of tears, but by now you know that your body can handle him. Inhaling deeply, relaxing while also bracing yourself, you shift your hips (with Mommy's assistance) and lower yourself slowly, his tip pressing in, and with a sharp gasp you feel him slipping deeper.
They both guide you as you take it slow, steady up and down movements to ease him into you, small rolls of your hips, Mommy holding you from behind, Daddy's hands tight around your waist. He watches you, you can feel it as you focus on where his cock vanishes inside you. The strain and pressure is still a bit painful, especially since you let gravity do most of the work, but once he's settled deep in your core, filling you out completely, his tip pushing right against your cervix, you exhale a shaky breath and look up, seeing him smiling at you.
Mommy wraps her arms around your stomach, her warm cheek between your shoulder blades, allowing Daddy to cup your face and pull you closer. β€œLook at you,” he coos softly, leaning in to brush his nose against yours. β€œHow wonderful you fit around Daddy's cock. You were made for this, pumpkin. Made for me. My perfect little girl.”
You close your eyes, breathing against the tightness building low in your belly, your hands moving back up to his shoulders before you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in the crook of it. You focus on the way he smells, how his large hands cradle your head against him, how Mommy clings to you, their warmth all-consuming. And the way his cock sits inside you, warm and hard and pulsing, how another kind of heat throbs through your straining ass cheeks.
And you realize it is all meant to be. You are meant to have relapses, you are meant to be anxious sometimes, you are meant to disappoint them, it's only human to do so. What matters in the end is that they still love you, still care about you, still treat you like their little girl. They'll continue to discipline you, push you further and further out of your comfort zone, and it will only make you stronger.
As you start moving on top of Daddy, leaning back, facing him, using his shoulders as leverage to bounce slowly up and down, you can't believe how lucky you are to have found these people (or for them to have found you). All they ever did was take care of you, in a way nobody has ever cared for you before.
Warmth spreads inside you with every slam against his hips, your walls pulsing around him, your breaths hitching, your heart beating faster. Mommy guides you, Daddy holds you, their soft words of praise and encouragement like lullabies in your ears, your own mewls and moans leaving your trembling lips in rapid little puffs of air.
Your thighs are shivering under the strain, but it's easier with Mommy's hands under your rear, pushing you up gently, while Daddy moves you down again, every bounce going deep, filling and all-consuming, and soon you find yourself floating, the friction, the steady pain/pleasure mixture, the warmth and strength of their grips, it all adds to the flickering lights, and when they suddenly all explode into a million smaller lights, you throw your head back, letting out a drawn-out moan, a deep shiver, stiffening for a second before your body starts shaking badly as your orgasm crashes through you.
You slump against Daddy's chest, arms around his neck, your hips jerking against him, and now it's up to him to keep going. His arms are tight around your back as he shifts on the edge of the desk, Mommy's hands move around your front, rubbing down your fluttering belly before you feel her fingertips drawing tight circles around your clit. You come again, with another croaked moan, spasming against Daddy as he starts thrusting up in a steady rhythm that accelerates quickly.
Sandwiched as you are, you can only take it, and you do, it's what you do after all, you are theirs to play with, and it gives you strength and pride, a safety you need to keep your mind empty and your thoughts clear of doubts. Whimpering softly as Daddy hammers his cock into your convulsing cunt while Mommy practically bullies your clit, you slip from pleasure into bliss and back, always floating, wave after wave of soothing sensations rolling through your trembling body.
Low grunts fill your ears, Daddy's deep voice vibrating through you as he suddenly stills, holding you tighter, throbbing deep inside you before he empties his balls into your quivering depths. You gasp into his neck, feeling every twitch of his cock, knowing he's painting your walls with thick ropes of his cum. You relax into him as he relaxes beneath you, his warm breaths playing with stray strands of your hair.
You rub his back as Mommy rubs yours. For a long moment you just sit on his cock until it stops throbbing and softens slightly, the only sounds your rapid pulse in your ears and your combined breaths, before it's Mommy, who brings you back to reality. β€œThanks for the show, you two,” she says as she walks around you. β€œI think I need a cold shower now.” You feel her hand rubbing along your ass cheek before she gives it a soft slap.
You jerk against Daddy, who groans, unfolding his arms from around you to lean them onto the table beside him. He inhales deeply, and slowly you lean back too, looking at him, knowing you probably look as disheveled as you feel. He smirks at you, moving one hand to brush a few hairs out of your sweat-slick forehead.
It hasn't always been this easy to let go and look the part and not be ashamed about it, but you learned to ignore it and enjoy the moment instead, the aftermath, the soft caresses and soothing words and gentle smiles enough to distract you. You lean in and press a kiss to his bearded cheek, savoring the scratch against your lips and the little hum he issues at the touch. He cups your face, thumb under your chin, and guides your head to meet his mouth for a proper kiss.
β€œAre you okay, pumpkin?” he whispers against your lips, his hooded eyes boring into yours.
You nod, leaning into him, shifting on his lap. β€œYes, Daddy, never better,” you breathe, moving in again, and he lets you, a smirk playing around his lips.
You haven't always been as confident with him (or Mommy) as you are now. It's been a long, winding road, over potholes and embarrassment, around bends and back in a loop towards old patterns, up steep hills and down rough slopes, through shame and discipline, hurt and comfort. A journey that started in darkness, before these two people showed you just how bright life could be.
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Chapter 2 πŸ”·οΈ Chapter 3 πŸ”·οΈ Chapter 4
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End notes: For now, this marks the end of the present-timeline, which was just a peek at what's possible within the confines of this story. Starting with the next chapter, we will continue the backstory arc, and Reader's journey into the world of BDSM and specifically Dd/Md/lg dynamics.
Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!
Up next: After you agreed to be their little girl, you're starting your first day in your new life. Surprises await!
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MASTERLIST πŸ”·οΈ AO3 πŸ”·οΈ ORIGINAL WORKS
#x reader smut#x reader#reader insert#mommy k!nk#wlw smut#wlw x reader#daddy k!nk#original fiction
471 notes Β· View notes
littlangelsinner Β· 2 months ago
Text
LOST & FOUND πŸ«‚ CH3
After Mommy has disciplined you with the cane, you feel the need to properly apologize to her, which was Daddy's idea, who promises you a reward if you do so.
soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader
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WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Pet names. Dom/sub undertones. Domestic discipline/caning. Cunnilingus. Tongue fucking. Cuntwarming? Vaginal fingering. Squirting. Subspace. Aftercare. Unprotected piv sex. Creampie. Cockwarming. (More notes under the cut!)
WORDS: 8.1k πŸ”·οΈ READ ON AO3 πŸ”·οΈ 1–2–3–4–5–6 7–8–9–10–11–12
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A/N: This chapter is a direct continuation of Chapter 1 and a summary of the dynamic you can expect from the rest of the story: a love triangle with F/F and F/M and F/F/M intimacies. I will note what you can expect in each chapter (indicated by the color of the header image and by the different colors in the warning tags), but just remember that our Reader is bisexual/bi-curious, so we'll have a multitude of different sex scenes here. ⚠️Also warning: it starts a little rough, sorry. Speaking of: before you hate on Mommy in this chapter, remember: 1) this is an established (fictional!) BDSM relationship with implied established boundaries and rules, 2) she is a Domme, 3) she is human and can have bad days too, 4) this is fiction, 5) please keep reading, it'll all get resolved! This is a HURT and comfort story after all!
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Chapter 2 πŸ”·οΈ Chapter 3 πŸ”·οΈ Chapter 4
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Several months later
You startle awake to loud voices. It takes you a long moment to realize where you are. In your bed, on your stomach. Mommy's voice in your ear, muffled, and suddenly you remember why your butt hurts so bad.
It's hazy, there were a lot of tears and pleading words, apologies and desperate cries, and it all started with a baking tray and flying cookies, the smell of burnt dough in the air, heat all around you, a stumble, a crash, herbs and soil raining to the ground.
It wouldn't even have been that bad if Mommy hadn't come into the kitchen at the exact moment you had lost your balance and dropped everything, your surprise for Daddy ruined as well as her precious herb garden. You knew Mommy cooked sometimes, but why she'd been so upset upon seeing the broken pot and plant, you had no idea.
But she was furious, screaming at you as you shrunk away. β€œI'm sorry, I'm sorry,” you cried, trying to clean up your mess, but all you did was make it worse. You even burned yourself on the hot sheet, destroyed the rest of the plant by stepping on it, and it was Mommy's flat hand on your cheek that brought you out of the headless panic and into a deep-rooted shock.
β€œTake a breath,” she ordered, staring at you. β€œAnd another. Okay? Good, then clean this up. Now.”
And you did, with shaking hands, but you somehow managed to scoop up burnt cookies, dirt and plant remnants, threw it all into the trash, then wiped the floor and washed the baking sheet. And Mommy watched, with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes darker, her face a stoic angry mask. As soon as you were done, you looked at her, and couldn't help but shed a new batch of tears, and some more, until you were back into your hysterics, sobbing and apologizing.
β€œGo to your room,” she told you. β€œWait for me.”
Through the tears, you nodded and shuffled away, barely making it up the stairs. You felt horrible, and her cold demeanor wasn't helping, it only made it worse. You knew that look of disappointment all too well, had seen it on your own mother many times. You were a failure, you knew it, you'd forgotten it for a while, distracted by Mommy and Daddy's care, but you remembered now.
You were a failure.
And you sat in your room and waited, crying soundlessly, your lips tingling, feeling numb and way too much all at the same time. She came to you ten minutes later, in her hand a thin wooden stick. You blinked, your breath hitching. You knew what it was, had seen it on her wall, had seen videos of it being used on others. And it scared you. A lot. She'd disciplined you before, but only with her hand, not with that thing.
β€œMommy?” you whimpered, staring at her.
She only shook her head and pointed to the floor. β€œTake off your pants and underwear and kneel on the floor, head down, ass in the air. Come on, don't make me wait.” Her voice was harsh, and all you could do was follow her words.
But as you knelt there, waiting for your punishment, the panic came back full force. You were shaking so badly you could barely stay in your position. More of your own pathetic pleading and crying and whining noises filled your ears, your heart beating out of your chest, your throat tight, lungs burning. Mommy ignored you.
When the first blow hit your rear, you screamed and jolted away. β€œStay where you are!” she said sternly. β€œAnd count with me, come on! One.”
β€œOne...” you croaked out. The cane cut through the air again and met your soft flesh. β€œTwo,” she said, and you repeated it barely able to speak. β€œYou deserve this, don't you? It's for your own good. You need this. Embrace the pain, think about what happened,” she explained between hits, three, four, five, you were shuddering on the floor, sobbing helplessly into your folded arms as the pain crashed through you, every impact making you flinch badly.
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. She eased her blows a little as she talked between them, her voice strangely calm despite the relentless flick of her wrist. β€œYou ruined something that was very dear to Mommy. I know it was an accident, but you were clumsy and careless. You could have hurt yourself as well. We can't have that.”
Ten, eleven, twelve. The thirteenth blow was particularly hard again, seemingly cutting into your skin, making you jerk forward with a pained yelp. β€œAnd you fell into old habits. We did not spend all that time trying to make you better if it only takes one stupid mistake to bring you back to square one.”
Fourteen, fifteen. You were a gasping mess on the floor, knees shaking so badly you could barely keep your weight on them. Sixteen, seventeen. Your whole body was aflame, your mind spinning, words repeating, every new hit adding to the already existing pain, and it wouldn't stop. You tried your best to breathe through it, like Mommy had taught you, but the thin wooden stick hurt more than you could have imagined. Your lungs ached with every sharp inhale. Eighteen, nineteen.
For the last one, she suddenly grabbed your hair and pulled you to your feet before she pressed you face-first into the wall, holding you by your nape. β€œThink about what you did and what you can do better. If you can't breathe through your attacks, I will use pain as a distraction again. Maybe it'll help you more than whatever Daddy does to you...” She paused, then said: β€œTwenty.”
The hit came with a sudden whoosh, and you screamed, jolting forward against the wall, legs shaking, your skin burning, tight and bruised and hurting. β€œTw-twenty...” you croaked out, holding your breath, eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down your face.
As her words echoed in your head, you had to give it to her: you were indeed distracted. The stinging pain spreading just beneath the inflamed skin of your buttocks was thrumming through you in an unrelenting fashion, scorching pulses that burned through any other concerns or thoughts or doubts, emptying your mind. You couldn't even pick up on the slight poke at Daddy's seemingly useless methods of helping you through your anxiety attacks. Nothing mattered: just the cleansing sharpness of Mommy's cane.
β€œGood. You took it like a big girl,” she said behind you, her hand easing down your back, hovering above your warm skin. β€œBetter than I expected. Doesn't look too bad either. Now take a cold shower, it'll feel better.”
With that she exited your room, leaving you trembling. At least you'd stopped sobbing now. For a long moment, all you could do was lean against the wall, trying to calm your erratic heart. Your throat was dry, cold sweat made you shiver. Your focus was still on the burning welts on your skin, horribly pulsing streaks all across your butt cheeks. You remember them vividly as you'd eventually inspected them in the mirror.
The cold shower was another torture, but afterwards you did indeed feel better, clean, cleared of your doubts, knowing that Mommy was right. You needed and deserved every single hit for making such a mess, for breaking down about it. As cruel and cold as she had been, you saw reason in her actions. She had to know what she was doing, of course she did, she was your Mommy, she only wanted the best for you.
In her own way...
Looking back though, you have to agree with Daddy. It has been too much. 'That sounds a bit excessive for a simple act of clumsiness,' he'd said. It has been, but of course you hadn't told him everything. Not as detailed as you'd liked. The anxiety attack, the uncontrollable sobbing, the hysterics. The inevitable tumble into the dark abyss, unable to come back out on your own. Mommy's cleansing slap and those cane hits... they had helped, brought you back, but...
But it still has been too much. And it has been different too. Usually when she disciplines you (she always tries to avoid saying punishment because you're not being punished for being anxious but disciplined for falling back into old patterns and allowing the anxiety to control you again), when she uses pain as a distraction, she cuddles you after, tells you what a good girl you've been, makes sure you're okay, but that time... she has just left. Something has definitely fueled Mommy's anger.
Shifting under the covers, trying not to put pressure on your butt (though whatever Daddy has put on your skin did help a little), you listen a bit closer to the voices from across the hall (you shouldn't, but it's hard to ignore them too). They're loud, as is usually the case when Mommy fights with Daddy. She is the fiery one, while he is the calmer counterpart, though he can be angry too, and loud. This morning, they are both equally agitated.
β€œShe was being hysterical!” Mommy screeches.
β€œAnd you think twenty fucking cane hits will help with that? That's not how we should deal with her anxiety!” Daddy says, more or less calmly, but you can hear the emotion in his voice through the walls.
β€œShe was calmer after...”
β€œOf course she was! Because she was in pain!” He is getting louder.
And she is getting quieter, which only means she's getting more emotional. β€œShe can handle it...”
β€œYou overdid it. It was too much. Don't let your frustrations out on her...”
β€œI did not let my – Ugh! I can't do this right now...”
There's a pause, then a door opens and shuts with a bang. It opens again. Now the voices are directly in the hallway in front of your door. Daddy's voice is quieter.
β€œWhat's the real matter here, babe?”
β€œNothing...” Mommy sounds defeated.
β€œYou don't just snap like that. Tell me.”
β€œI just had a bad day, it happens...” You hear footsteps pacing the wooden floorboards.
β€œNot like that. What happened?”
β€œNothing, it's fine. I'll apologize to her, okay?”
β€œGood. But I'm not done with you...” His tone changes, even quieter, softer, a little challenge behind the words. A smirk.
Mommy gives a soft laugh, a bit flat but there's the same smirk in her voice. β€œLater, papito...”
When one pair of footsteps leaves along the hallway, your door is being opened quietly. You press into the covers, pretending to sleep. Your mattress dips, a hand comes to rest on your hip.
β€œRise and shine, pumpkin,” Daddy whispers, leaning over you to brush his lips against your temple, the only part of you peeking out from under the blanket.
You turn slightly, blinking your eyes open, giving him a tired smile. β€œMorning, Daddy,” you mumble. He smiles back and gives you another peck, slowly working his way down your face until he meets your lips. He's braced over you, hovering inches away, and you sigh softly into his kiss.
After he comforted you last night (by letting you come on his thigh), he'd washed you and himself with a warm wet cloth, then tucked you into bed and left, promising to talk to Mommy. He didn't seem to have gotten behind her unusual burst of anger, but you trusted him to dig deeper. All in good time.
β€œHow do you feel?” he asks quietly, carefully rolling onto his side, cradling you in his arms.
β€œBetter,” you whisper. Your butt still hurts, is tense and tight and throbbing, but it'll be okay. You're sure.
β€œWanna make breakfast with me? I'll supervise, you work?” he mutters, nuzzling your neck. You nod with a soft giggle. β€œI think Mommy would like a nice smoothie. Should be easy enough, right?”
He helps you out of bed, picks a soft yellow sundress for you to wear (decides on a white lace thong that sits comfortably between your bruised ass cheeks), then brushes your hair and puts it into a long braid that falls down your back. He tells you to brush your teeth, and you do, and when you're done, he takes your hand and leads you down to the kitchen.
There he raids the fridge for fresh fruit and vegetables and gives them to you to chop up before he helps you pour it all into the blender with some oat milk. It's fun to do this with Daddy, standing next to him as he lets you hit the button, as you watch how everything turns into a rather unappealing green slush. After filling the thick drink into a tall glass, he puts a metal straw into it and holds it, then nods for you to follow him back up the stairs to Mommy's room.
Your heart beats faster when you approach the door. He stops and hands you the drink. β€œYou can do this, pumpkin,” he tells you and leans down to kiss your cheek. β€œIt'll be fine. Anyone can have a bad day, so we shouldn't hold a grudge, right?” You nod, looking up at him with a timid smile.
Then he raises his hand and knocks on the door. You flinch at the noise, inhaling sharply. β€œCome in,” you hear Mommy's voice through the wood.
Daddy gives you a gentle nudge, whispering β€œSee you later, kiddo.”, and then you open the door and slip into her room. She's sitting at the large vanity, watching the door through the mirror, a brush in her hand, her long black hair cascading down her back.
β€œGood morning, Mommy,” you whisper a little intimidated. β€œI... I brought you breakfast...”
She turns around on her chair, watching you, before she gives you a soft smile. β€œOh honey, that's so sweet of you, come here,” she says and holds out her hand.
You walk towards her, placing your hand onto her palm. She pulls you against her, taking the smoothie from your other hand and putting it down on the vanity. β€œListen, sweetheart, Mommy is –”
β€œI'm sorry, Mommy,” you say at the same time, biting your lip. She smiles at you, her eyes crinkling softly.
β€œI know you are, baby girl,” she says. β€œBut I am too. I shouldn't have disciplined you like that, it was too much. Mommy just had a bad day. I'm sorry for taking it out on you,” she adds quietly, wrapping her arms around you as she buries her face in your neck, inhaling deeply.
You hug her back, still a little stiff, perched between her legs. β€œI didn't mean to disappoint you,” you murmur into her.
She shushes you. β€œIt's alright. Water under the bridge, okay?”
A hum escapes you, and for a moment you just stand there, holding her as she holds you, her warmth seeping into your stiff limbs. Eventually you take a deep breath, her sweet perfume filling your nostrils, before you tilt your head a bit to look at her.
β€œMommy, I... I want to make you feel good, uh, better,” you say in a breathy whisper. β€œIf you have time for it...”
She chuckles softly. β€œI always have time for you, sweet girl. Might be best to take the day off anyway.” She pauses, then sighs. β€œWell, I can stay home, but I have to work through my emails. But that shouldn't be an obstacle, right, kitten?” she whispers, then slowly leans you back fully and smirks at you.
You feel your cheeks burning up, already sensing a little throb in your core at the prospect of making her feel good. Her hands grab your waist and push you away gently, allowing her to stand up. You realize she's wearing a black silk robe (and only that), open in the front, giving you a good glance at her perfect breasts and her smooth mound. You force yourself to look up into her face.
β€œCome with me to my office,” she tells you and grabs your hand, taking the smoothie with the other, and then guides you into the adjacent room.
You've been here a few times before, usually perched under her desk, so the rest of the interior doesn't really matter to you. It's a bright room though, large windows, floor to ceiling, letting in the already warm rays of the morning sun. There are bookshelves lining one wall, and a wild array of other stuff in front of another. You always wondered what it is that Mommy does, aside from being a successful business woman and establishment owner.
She definitely has a lot of hobbies. There are mannequins, a sewing machine, an easel and a bunch of canvases stacked behind it. A low table with painting supplies. A camera in another high shelf next to large books probably filled with photographs. And then there's the corner you don't like to look at often, where the cane hangs from a hook, next to a flogger, a whip, a paddle and other tools like gags and harnesses and belts. Sleek black leather accentuated with wooden elements.
Mommy sure is a woman of many talents. But none of that matters to you now as she motions you to crawl under her desk, a large space made of a long wooden tabletop sitting on two drawer shelves, it's open enough to allow whoever enters the room to have a good view beneath. It's where you spent your time before, whenever she works from home and asks you to keep her company.
It's been a strange request at first, but seeing her relax due to your presence and ministrations is always something you're looking forward to. As you crawl under the table top, she puts the smoothie down next to her laptop and sits down in her chair. Despite her chaotic corner of numerous activities, her desk is surprisingly bare. No clutter, just a lamp, some pencils and a notepad, her laptop and phone on it.
You settle right in front of her, and she doesn't waste a second before she spreads her legs, her robe falling open even more as she gently guides you between them. Her warmth and scent radiates off her when you get closer to her center. She shifts on her chair, getting comfortable but allowing you to reach her just fine. Her hand remains on your head as she tilts it so you can rest your cheek on her thigh.
Looking up at her, you see her smiling, her eyes warm and already darker than usual. β€œYou really wanna make me feel good, baby?” she whispers, watching you closely. You nod eagerly as you shift on your knees, the heels of your sock-clad feet poking into your rear. The pain and tightness of the welts is still there, but you can ignore them for now as you focus on the woman in front of you.
She leans back, opening her legs further, her hands resting casually on the armrests of her leather chair. Her eyes stay on you as you approach her core, your hands reaching up to caress her inner thighs. You hold her gaze, your face already flushed from what lies ahead. Swallowing the excess saliva gathering on your tongue (your oral fixation flaring up), you lean in and up and press your lips to her flat stomach, slowly working your way lower.
She's calm, watching you closely, and eventually you break eye contact and close your eyes, focusing on kissing along her pelvis and down her smooth mound, going by feel and warmth alone. Your hands move around her waist as you settle between her legs, holding onto her as you bury your face in her sex. There's a slight shiver when your tongue teases along her slit, your lips brushing against hers, so soft and warm.
You pepper her labia with kisses, tilting your head slightly before you ease your tongue between them, dipping into her slick. Breathing into her, her scent filling your nostrils, you feel more little twitches, her thighs pressing slightly against your sides. You retrieve your arms and rub your palms against them, noticing the hint of goosebumps on her skin as you continue licking up and around her lower lips.
When you press your tongue against her hooded clit, she gives a soft little moan, enough encouragement to keep going, to dig deeper, to kiss and lick and nibble on her soft flesh until you feel her clit throbbing against your lips. You keep your focus on the sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking your tongue against it, closing your mouth around it, sucking it hard, and she grows more vocal, her hips jerking against your face.
She taught you early on how to properly satisfy a woman, not always on herself, teaching you about your own body as well. As awkward and embarrassing as it had been in the beginning, you are grateful to know what you know now, and you find pride in being able to get her off this easily. It only takes a few concentrated licks and nibbles, a bit of teeth grazing and a pointed tongue prod, and she is shaking in her seat, thrashing her head back as she claws at the armrests, loud moans echoing through the room.
Her first orgasm comes in waves, twitches of her thighs, her cunt pulsing against your chin as you keep sucking on her clit. You look up then, watching her come undone in front of you, under your ministrations. It sends deep shudders down your own body, settling low in your stomach, a throb to your own clit as you stimulate Mommy's.
You keep going, because she'd usually tell you when to stop, and it takes more than one orgasm for her to be fully satisfied. With your hands rubbing over her trembling legs, your mouth suctioned to her throbbing clit, you watch her, waiting for any indication, any hint of what she wants now. She's breathing harder when she meets your gaze, red spots on her cheeks, her bare chest rising and falling faster.
One of her hands moves down to your head, caressing your hair, playing with the braid. She doesn't say anything, just gives the tiniest of nudges, and you follow the hint and move from her clit down to her slit. She's a lot wetter now, and you lap up every drop you come across, savoring the sweet taste as you move your tongue between her labia, teasing at her entrance, the little flutter to her cunt not going by unnoticed.
You take long strokes from her hole to her sensitive bud, filling your mouth with her taste and essence, feeling her clit thrum and her cunt clench. Tilting your head down, closing your eyes, you press firmer against her, her labia enveloping your cheeks as you push the tip of your tongue against her entrance. She mewls softly, the hand in your hair tightening, as you start pushing your tongue in and out in quick succession, moving the muscle up and down, creating obscene squelching and slurping sounds that ring loudly in your ears, a motion she's taught you, shown you, done to you so many times.
You feel the drop of your own arousal in your underwear, your body tensing as you focus on the reactions of hers. With your tongue buried in her pulsing pussy, you use your nose to push against her clit in a steady rhythm, your whole face warm and wet by now as she clenches around you. Your hands curl around her legs, trying to hold them open, but she's twitching so hard you feel the tremors against the sides of your head as she tries to close her thighs around it.
It doesn't matter, you're in too deep, literally, only focused on her pleasure, her pleasure giving you pleasure, she could smother you right that instant and you wouldn't mind. Your head is blissfully empty, all you feel and taste and see and hear is her. She's getting louder, shifting on her chair, grinding her pelvis against your face as she fucks herself on your tongue, harder, faster, a desperate little dance you volunteered for.
And when she comes, she throws herself back into the chair, gasping breathlessly, her whole body spasming against you, thighs tight against your ears, taking another sense from you as you almost drown in her juices. Her cunt clenches hard around your working muscle, and you slowly pull your tongue out when she relaxes, lapping up what she gave you. You savor the little twitches, the uncontrollable jerks of her hips, the deep exhales from above you.
As you're still licking at her slit, she moves her hands to brush stray hairs out of her damp forehead. You look up at her, lips closed around her clit, when she smiles at you. β€œWell done, sweet girl, thank you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and raspy, the low cadence sending shivers down your spine. β€œThat's enough for now.”
You lean back almost reluctantly, licking your wet lips, blinking your clumped eyelashes apart. You feel her hand wiping at your face, her thumb pressing into your mouth. You give it a tentative suck, your eyes on her. She looks calm again, relaxed, serene.
β€œMommy's gotta work now,” she tells you, pushing her thumb harder onto your tongue. β€œDo you wanna stay with me while I do?”
You don't even hesitate when you nod, your hands finding her wrist as you suck on her thumb, the motion pulling you deeper into the safe space you enjoy so much.
β€œDo you want a toy to play with?” she asks, your mind momentarily wandering to the lowest drawer of her desk, filled with vibrators and dildos and smaller items to entertain you (and her). It's a tempting thought, but you shake your head, hollowing your cheeks as you give her digit another deep suckle.
She chuckles softly. β€œBut I do need my hand, sweet pea,” she says with a raised eyebrow and a wink.
You blink at her, your mind too empty to comprehend her words. She caresses your face, then slowly withdraws her thumb. You're at least alert enough to lick up the excess drool dripping from your now unoccupied lips. Swallowing hard, you look at her, but she already knows the empty gaze you shoot her and guides your head back between her legs.
β€œKeep me warm and wet, hmm, baby girl? Can you do that?” she says softly, and you nod, already pressing your lips against her throbbing clit. β€œBut don't make me come. I gotta concentrate.”
β€œOkay, Mommy,” you mumble against her, leaning your cheek against her thigh as you inhale deeply, taking in her scent. She closes her legs a little around you, caging you in, holding you tightly, and you melt into her, eyes fluttering closed.
β€œGood girl,” she says, patting your head before she shifts on her chair one last time. Her praise almost drowns out the quiet noises of her fingers flying over the keyboard as she starts working.
You relax into her, sitting on your knees, the hurt on your butt forgotten, the drying wetness on your face ignored, the tingle between your own legs unimportant. Occasionally you give her labia a few kisses or a gentle suck, licking up along her seam, but as your mind grows silent, you slip more and more into what Mommy and Daddy call subspace, a state of mind where there are no worries, where you're not anxious, where nothing matters but the warmth of the person next to you.
It's a peaceful place where you lose all sense of time. Snuggling into Mommy's cunt or suckling on Daddy's cock, no matter where or how or when, it's your personal reward for making them feel good, for allowing yourself to let go, an escape you wished you'd known about sooner. But now you do, and it's enough. A beautiful, blissful void, and you're floating, weightless, soft breaths and a steady heartbeat, sunken into yourself.
How you come out of it is usually a blur. A gentle caress to your cheek, a little nudge, some sort of physical touch that grounds you back to the place you've initially drifted off in. A deep exhale against warm skin, your cheek pressed between wet flesh, your own thumb wet and numb between your tight lips. Your eyelids flutter when you feel another caress, nimble fingers digging into your hair, soft presses to your scalp, a soothing little hum you slowly recognize as Mommy's voice.
β€œWake up, mi amor,” she whispers from above you, her accent an extra vibration through your skull.
You inhale deeply, smacking your lips, or trying to, slowly lowering your hand as you blink your eyes open. Mommy's cunt is right there, soft and sleek, and it's an instinct to raise your hand again and caress her puffy labia.
β€œNo need, sweet cheeks,” she tells you, but you keep pushing your fingers up and down her mound, head resting against her thigh, watching the lazy movements of your digits.
Mommy sighs loudly, but doesn't do anything to stop you after all. So you continue, dip your fingertips into her slick, teasing at her clit, as she relaxes into her chair, her hand stroking the side of your head. You rub and caress, prod and poke, eventually pushing a finger into her entrance, feeling the tight clench of her walls. Her soft mewls sound in your ears, when a sudden knock disrupts the peace, making you blink and realize you're knuckles-deep in Mommy's cunt.
Mommy just issues a noise akin to a sigh or groan, and the door to her office opens. You remain focused on her, plunging your digit in and out, curling it slightly, rubbing the pad of your finger along her squishy flesh until you feel her twitching against you.
β€œIs she still at it?” Daddy's voice sounds from somewhere behind you.
β€œShe just came back,” Mommy whispers, her voice just a deep breath. β€œYou know how she gets after, the insatiable little thing...”
You don't really register what they're saying, doesn't matter, all you see and feel and smell is Mommy. You add another finger and continue your motions, pushing in slightly faster, slightly deeper, pressing harder against her sensitive spots. She shifts in her seat, her hips bucking against your hand, her breaths more labored.
Footsteps round the desk, and as you blink against your haze, you notice Daddy's head next to Mommy's. He winks at you before he presses his lips to her cheek. She turns her head and uses her free hand to grab his nape, keeping him bent over to capture his mouth for a deeper kiss. β€œSo you like me again, hm?” Daddy hums against her, and instead of answering him, she just kisses him harder.
You watch them as you finger Mommy, her wetness rivaling your own as they continue to make out. You squirm on your knees, chewing on your swollen lip, your fingers moving in and out of Mommy's clenching hole, and fueled by their soft groans and moans, you dive in again and close your lips around that throbbing bundle of nerves in front of you.
Mommy gasps, jerking against your face, and you keep watching her from under your lashes. Daddy holds her face while propped onto one arm, resting on the table above you. The way their lips and tongues meet is a sensual dance you enjoy watching more and more (which wasn't always the case). Now it only arouses you more, seeing them so intimate.
With your mouth tight around Mommy's clit and your fingers deep in her spasming cunt, you shift on your knees until you can press the heel of your foot against your own throbbing core, the sudden sensation making you moan softly. You keep a steady rhythm, dipping your fingers in and out, sucking on her clit, rubbing yourself against your foot, feeling how your arousal drenches the fabric of your panties, creating a delicious friction that makes your empty head spin.
You come at the same time as Mommy, though while your orgasm rolls through you like a gentle wave, hers is a ravaging waterfall, cascading down with power, and as you keep pumping your fingers into her, her cunt convulses, spraying you with jerky jets of her essence as she moans loudly above you, barely contained by Daddy's mouth, and even though you were quite irritated the first time she's squirted right into your face, you barely flinch now, lowering your mouth to lick up everything you can catch.
She shudders on the chair, slowly relaxing, and it's Daddy who appears next to you as he pulls you away from her quivering core. Her chair rolls away, and he kneels beside you, wiping a cloth over your drenched face.
β€œWell done, pumpkin,” he says softly, smiling at you. You blink your eyes into focus, your lips trembling without Mommy's warmth against them. β€œI think Mommy feels a lot better now, don't you, babe?”
A soft groan sounds from behind him in response. β€œOh yeah...” she sighs.
β€œYou earned yourself a reward, baby girl,” Daddy whispers, as he helps you crawl out from under the desk.
When you stand, he has to hold you, because your legs feel numb and tingling, fallen asleep from sitting on them for so long. The aftershocks of your own orgasm definitely add to the little unsteadiness as well. His hands cup your warm face as he looks down at you. You still feel like floating, head too empty to fully focus on him or the change of position.
A slurping sound echoes in your ears, and when you look past him, you see Mommy closing her lips around the straw in her smoothie. She winks at you when you meet her hooded gaze. Slowly you come back to yourself, a soothing warmth flooding your limbs and core. Daddy pulls you to the side, and you notice him sitting down on the edge of the wide desk, his hands on your waist as he nudges you between his legs.
β€œYou with me, pumpkin?” he says softly, tilting his head.
You look up at him, your hands resting on his strong thighs. β€œYes, Daddy,” you whisper, giving him a timid smile.
β€œMy good girl.”
He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, before you tilt your chin up a bit more to meet his lips. As he moves his tongue against yours, slowly, sensually, you feel a presence behind you. Mommy's hands rub up and down your back, smoothing out your dress, before they disappear under the hem, and you gasp against Daddy's mouth when you feel her fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties.
She pulls them down slowly, crouching behind you, and you lift your feet automatically to step out of them. β€œHmm, you enjoyed yourself already, didn't you, sweet girl?” she muses, leaning against you after she's straightened up again, her firm breasts pressing against your back.
Without breaking your kiss with Daddy, you move your eyes to see her dangling your drenched underwear on her finger. Heat crashes into your cheeks, slowly seeping down your body, and the arousal that's been draining into the bit of fabric of your thong, now drips out of you unrestrained. A garbled mewl escapes you as you rub your thighs together and squirm on the spot.
β€œOh don't worry, darling, Daddy's gonna take care of the little itch, hmm, won't you, papito?”
Her voice is silky smooth in your ear, letting your eyelids flutter as your tongue wrestles softly with Daddy's. He watches you out of hooded eyes, his grip on you firm and strong, unrelenting. With Mommy still pressed against your back, sandwiched between them as you are, you feel her hands rubbing down your arms before she guides your hands between Daddy's legs, right to the not-so-subtle bulge in his pants.
He finally breaks the kiss, moves his lips along your cheek to your ear, his beard scratching along your soft skin, causing you to take a shuddering breath as you fill your lungs with air again. β€œAre you ready for me, pumpkin?” he breathes against the shell of your ear, his lips warm and wet, his breath even warmer. You shiver, and before you can answer, Mommy's hand slips around your front and down between your tight thighs, dipping right into your slick.
β€œOh she's ready alright...”
β€œI've been asking her,” he says sternly, still nuzzling your neck, but clearly addressing Mommy, who sighs loudly and pulls her hand back.
You turn your head to look at him, biting your swollen lip, before you nod.
β€œSay it,” he whispers, meeting your eyes.
β€œI'm ready for you, Daddy,” you reply quietly. He raises an eyebrow.
You blush deeply, knowing what he wants to hear. Swallowing hard, you look down to where your hand is resting on his groin. β€œI'm... ready for your...” Another deep inhale, that flicker of shame rolling through your mind before you push it away again. β€œYour cock,” you whisper.
You look up at him, but he still watches you with a certain expectation, his eyes dark, his jaw set.
β€œI'm ready for your cock, Daddy,” you say again, still quiet, but it's finally enough for him. A smile breaks on his handsome face, and he leans in to kiss your cheek.
β€œGood girl,” he says softly. β€œDo you think I'm ready for you too?”
You give his bulge a little squeeze, feeling the hardness beneath the fabric. β€œYes, I think so,” you whisper.
β€œLet's find out, hm?”
He gives you a wink, and you start unbuckling his belt, then fumble with the button and zipper of his pants. Mommy is there, leaning in from behind you, helping with the task. Daddy stands for a moment and lets his two women pull his pants and underwear down his long legs before he sits down on the edge of the desk again. Mommy leaves you as she gathers his clothes on the back of her chair.
You look up at his face instead of at his angrily bobbing cock, mesmerized by the hunger in his eyes. His hands tighten around your waist, and in the next moment he lifts you effortlessly, and you end up straddling his lap, knees on either side of his hips, legs spread (almost) impossibly wide over his thighs, your crotch pressed tightly against his. Your hands find his shoulders as you adjust on his lap.
β€œDress off?” you hear Mommy's voice from behind you.
β€œHmm, what do you think, baby girl? Do you want Daddy to see how you bounce on his cock? How your little cunt swallows every inch of him?”
You inhale sharply, deep shivers crashing through you as he talks like this. β€œYes,” you breathe out, and as soon as you do, Mommy's hands are there to pull the sundress over your head. Without it, you are left completely naked because he's (deliberately) forgotten to put a bra on you this morning. A tingle goes through you.
You shift on his lap, fingers curling around his broad shoulders again. He watches you, his hands rubbing along your sides before he puts them large and warm and heavy on your waist, his long fingers almost teasing your spine while his thumbs rub over your fluttering stomach. Behind you, another set of hands eases along your thighs back to your rear, and when Mommy touches the welts on your ass cheeks, you feel her lips brushing against your shoulder.
β€œI'm sorry, mi amor,” she coos. β€œI thought it wouldn't look so bad. Does it still hurt?”
You meet Daddy's gaze before you turn your head and try to look at her out of the corner of your eye. β€œIt's okay, Mommy, it's already feeling better.”
β€œMy brave little girl,” she whispers, planting more kisses along your back while her hands fully cup your ass now, the pressure sending jolts of pain through you but you force them down, try to ignore them as you bite your lip and take a shuddering breath.
β€œLook at me, pumpkin,” Daddy orders, and you do, stiffening on his lap. β€œThis is for you,” he starts, his hands holding onto your waist as Mommy lifts your hips until you hover just above Daddy's cock. β€œYou take what you need from me, okay? You decide the pace. Me and Mommy will do anything to take care of you.”
You smile softly at him, bracing on your knees, your thighs trembling slightly, your hands digging into his shoulders. β€œThank you, Daddy,” you whisper.
β€œThank you, sweetheart, for being such a good little girl for us,” he replies, tilting his head as you squirm slightly on top of him, the tip of his cock brushing between your labia as you do so.
Before you can fully focus on indulging him (or letting him indulge you?), a last speck of doubt crashes into your mind. You blink at him, lips trembling, opening your mouth to protest, knowing you haven't been a good girl at all yesterday and have the marks to prove it, but he shakes his head, his dark eyes so intense any words dissipate right off your tongue. You close your mouth and swallow, nodding slightly.
And then you concentrate on him, looking down as one of your hands moves to close around his shaft as you guide him towards your entrance. It's taken you many months to get accustomed to his length and girth, a lot of training, a lot of tears, but by now you know that your body can handle him. Inhaling deeply, relaxing while also bracing yourself, you shift your hips (with Mommy's assistance) and lower yourself slowly, his tip pressing in, and with a sharp gasp you feel him slipping deeper.
They both guide you as you take it slow, steady up and down movements to ease him into you, small rolls of your hips, Mommy holding you from behind, Daddy's hands tight around your waist. He watches you, you can feel it as you focus on where his cock vanishes inside you. The strain and pressure is still a bit painful, especially since you let gravity do most of the work, but once he's settled deep in your core, filling you out completely, his tip pushing right against your cervix, you exhale a shaky breath and look up, seeing him smiling at you.
Mommy wraps her arms around your stomach, her warm cheek between your shoulder blades, allowing Daddy to cup your face and pull you closer. β€œLook at you,” he coos softly, leaning in to brush his nose against yours. β€œHow wonderful you fit around Daddy's cock. You were made for this, pumpkin. Made for me. My perfect little girl.”
You close your eyes, breathing against the tightness building low in your belly, your hands moving back up to his shoulders before you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in the crook of it. You focus on the way he smells, how his large hands cradle your head against him, how Mommy clings to you, their warmth all-consuming. And the way his cock sits inside you, warm and hard and pulsing, how another kind of heat throbs through your straining ass cheeks.
And you realize it is all meant to be. You are meant to have relapses, you are meant to be anxious sometimes, you are meant to disappoint them, it's only human to do so. What matters in the end is that they still love you, still care about you, still treat you like their little girl. They'll continue to discipline you, push you further and further out of your comfort zone, and it will only make you stronger.
As you start moving on top of Daddy, leaning back, facing him, using his shoulders as leverage to bounce slowly up and down, you can't believe how lucky you are to have found these people (or for them to have found you). All they ever did was take care of you, in a way nobody has ever cared for you before.
Warmth spreads inside you with every slam against his hips, your walls pulsing around him, your breaths hitching, your heart beating faster. Mommy guides you, Daddy holds you, their soft words of praise and encouragement like lullabies in your ears, your own mewls and moans leaving your trembling lips in rapid little puffs of air.
Your thighs are shivering under the strain, but it's easier with Mommy's hands under your rear, pushing you up gently, while Daddy moves you down again, every bounce going deep, filling and all-consuming, and soon you find yourself floating, the friction, the steady pain/pleasure mixture, the warmth and strength of their grips, it all adds to the flickering lights, and when they suddenly all explode into a million smaller lights, you throw your head back, letting out a drawn-out moan, a deep shiver, stiffening for a second before your body starts shaking badly as your orgasm crashes through you.
You slump against Daddy's chest, arms around his neck, your hips jerking against him, and now it's up to him to keep going. His arms are tight around your back as he shifts on the edge of the desk, Mommy's hands move around your front, rubbing down your fluttering belly before you feel her fingertips drawing tight circles around your clit. You come again, with another croaked moan, spasming against Daddy as he starts thrusting up in a steady rhythm that accelerates quickly.
Sandwiched as you are, you can only take it, and you do, it's what you do after all, you are theirs to play with, and it gives you strength and pride, a safety you need to keep your mind empty and your thoughts clear of doubts. Whimpering softly as Daddy hammers his cock into your convulsing cunt while Mommy practically bullies your clit, you slip from pleasure into bliss and back, always floating, wave after wave of soothing sensations rolling through your trembling body.
Low grunts fill your ears, Daddy's deep voice vibrating through you as he suddenly stills, holding you tighter, throbbing deep inside you before he empties his balls into your quivering depths. You gasp into his neck, feeling every twitch of his cock, knowing he's painting your walls with thick ropes of his cum. You relax into him as he relaxes beneath you, his warm breaths playing with stray strands of your hair.
You rub his back as Mommy rubs yours. For a long moment you just sit on his cock until it stops throbbing and softens slightly, the only sounds your rapid pulse in your ears and your combined breaths, before it's Mommy, who brings you back to reality. β€œThanks for the show, you two,” she says as she walks around you. β€œI think I need a cold shower now.” You feel her hand rubbing along your ass cheek before she gives it a soft slap.
You jerk against Daddy, who groans, unfolding his arms from around you to lean them onto the table beside him. He inhales deeply, and slowly you lean back too, looking at him, knowing you probably look as disheveled as you feel. He smirks at you, moving one hand to brush a few hairs out of your sweat-slick forehead.
It hasn't always been this easy to let go and look the part and not be ashamed about it, but you learned to ignore it and enjoy the moment instead, the aftermath, the soft caresses and soothing words and gentle smiles enough to distract you. You lean in and press a kiss to his bearded cheek, savoring the scratch against your lips and the little hum he issues at the touch. He cups your face, thumb under your chin, and guides your head to meet his mouth for a proper kiss.
β€œAre you okay, pumpkin?” he whispers against your lips, his hooded eyes boring into yours.
You nod, leaning into him, shifting on his lap. β€œYes, Daddy, never better,” you breathe, moving in again, and he lets you, a smirk playing around his lips.
You haven't always been as confident with him (or Mommy) as you are now. It's been a long, winding road, over potholes and embarrassment, around bends and back in a loop towards old patterns, up steep hills and down rough slopes, through shame and discipline, hurt and comfort. A journey that started in darkness, before these two people showed you just how bright life could be.
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Chapter 2 πŸ”·οΈ Chapter 3 πŸ”·οΈ Chapter 4
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End notes: For now, this marks the end of the present-timeline, which was just a peek at what's possible within the confines of this story. Starting with the next chapter, we will continue the backstory arc, and Reader's journey into the world of BDSM and specifically Dd/Md/lg dynamics.
Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!
Up next: After you agreed to be their little girl, you're starting your first day in your new life. Surprises await!
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MASTERLIST πŸ”·οΈ AO3 πŸ”·οΈ ORIGINAL WORKS
#x reader smut#x reader#reader insert#mommy k!nk#wlw smut#wlw x reader#daddy k!nk#original fiction
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littlangelsinner Β· 2 months ago
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ΠšΡƒΠ»ΠΈΡ‡ΠΈΠΊΠΈ
#l.p.#adamsapple#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lucifer
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littlangelsinner Β· 2 months ago
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you can be the boss
younger girl next door!reader x beau arlen | MDNI
cw: daddy kink, slight ooc beau (he’s still our gentleman dw), dry humping, oral ( f receiving), unprotected p in v (no balloon no goon), pet names (darlin’), nipple piercings, big age gap (20s & 40s), cursing, reader is literally throwing herself at beau, cheating.., drinking and smoking. also there are descriptions of a car so dont come at me if i don’t use the right terminology for under the hood pls and ty!
also by gnd i mean she’s just his neighbor, she resembles no like actually personality traits of the typical gnd persona!
title and fic are both inspired by β€œyou can be the boss” by lana
def has grammar mistakes!
wc: 4k
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since your hot new neighbor moved in, you’ve been coming up with ideas on how to get his attention. you’ve baked cookies for him, left your window open purposely when you were changing, sunbathed outside in your tiniest bikinis while he washed his truck.
it did work, but not in the way that you wanted.
beau came over every now and then when a fuse β€œwent out” in your house. and he would knock on your door so you can try something he grilled up.
and the one time he knocked on your door shirtless, your roommate answered because you were at the gym.
it was the fourth of july and you and your friends made plans to go out by the lake. your roommate was visiting family so you were left alone. you put on your american flag triangle bikini with low rise shorts and a white tank top.
you head on outside to your car, giving beau a small wave, tilting your head and giving an innocent smile.
he looks so hot. backwards hat, aviators, white t shirt, jeans, tan. he looks like he just walked off the set of top gun maverick
he’s washing his truck, again, to see you. he knows it’s wrong. he just got back together with carla, got his family back together. and if it weren’t for that, you’re drastically younger than him. he’s creeping around to see you. he’s fallen for all of your traps.
he watches you hop into your car, it’s a β€˜73 bronco, so it’s bound to give you some issues. you put the key in the ignition, turning it.
it won’t start.
so you try again.
you turn the key again, and still, nothing. you pop the hood of your car and walk over to see if there’s anything wrong.
beau, without hesitation, jogs over to you, β€œsomethin’ wrong darlin’?”
God bless that southern drawl.
you didn’t plan your car to not turn on, but you sure as hell were going to milk this.
”yeah,” you shift your weight back onto your left leg, β€œbetty won’t turn on”
beau chuckles, β€œbetty?”
you nod, β€œgrandpa named her that”
he whistles, β€œthought you bought this, sweet ride you got β€˜ere”
”he passed it down to my dad but my dad gave it to me since i liked it so much,” you place your forearms on the edge of betty, bending over, β€œi revamped her though, figured it’d be best”
”got new parts for her?” he asks, checking the oil by wiping the dipstick on the hem of his white t shirt, β€œoil’s good,” he mumbles
”only some, new battery and starter since they started giving me issues”
he clicks his tongue, β€œford’ll do that to ya darlin’,” he takes a step back, admiring the view of you bent over and your car through his sunglasses
you laugh and look at him over your shoulder, β€œmore of a chevy guy aren’t you?”
he smiles, β€œyou got that right darlin’, but i can appreciate a nice car. gimme the keys, will ya?”
he gets into your drivers seat, repeating your actions of turning the key. whenever he does turn it over, you notice some sparks coming out from one of the terminal of the battery.
beau walks back over to you, removing his glasses and hooking them on the collar of his shirt, β€œsee somethin’?”
you lean back up, bracing yourself on your palms, β€œyeah, sparks came out here,” you point at the black terminal
he licks his lips, admiring how the white straps of your bikini sit at your hips, uncovered by the small article of denim on your lower half.
he leans in closer, furrowing his brows as he scans over your car battery, β€œhow long ago d’you get this battery?”
”literally a week ago”
”get in the car and i’ll tell you when to start her”
you sit in your drivers seat, removing your tank top because it might ruin your tan and to get beau’s attention. after one attempt of betty not turning on, she does. your jaw drops and you slide out of your car, β€œwhat’d you do?”
his gaze falters down to your revealed skin but returns back to your eyes, β€œc’mere,” he nudges his head
you stand right in front of the battery, leaning over to watch his big and veiny hand twist the terminal to the right.
”might give you some problems again, but it’s all you gotta do,” you both lean back and he removes the stand holding up the hood, β€œafter all, ford does stand for found on road dead”
you roll your eyes, ”haven’t heard that one before,” you cross your arms over your tits to push them up
beau lets the hood slam shut and he places a hand in his back pocket, taking out a box of marlboro cigarettes.
you raise your brows, β€œyou’re a smoker?”
he shrugs, β€œsometimes.”
before he can search for a lighter, you hand him one that you had in your pocket, β€œleast i can do for fixing my car”
he cups the cigarette and lights it, taking the time to stare at the perkiness of your tits while he can, β€œwas hardly an issue,” he hands you back your lighter, β€œyou a smoker too?”
β€œsometimes,” you smile
he nods and hands you the box, β€œonly one left in there, but..,” he leans in closer, β€œyour car givin’ you an issue again, call me”
you were a bit confused since you don’t have his number, but you decided not to question him and take the box of cigarettes.
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when you’re about to leave from the lake, you pull out the box of cigarettes Beau gave you earlier, only to see the one singular cigarette with his number on it.
you bite your lip, smiling, and save his number in your phone.
you know its wrong. you’ve seen his wedding band. you’ve seen his instagram posts.
but he gave you his number.
you waited for about two minutes, staring at the contact.
you called it.
”hello?”
”hey beau”
you can hear the instant smile on his face, β€œhey,” there’s rustling on his end and then you faintly hear him say β€œwork call,” before closing a door, β€œcar troubles?”
”mmm,” you turn on your car, the engine turning over is loud enough that he can hear through the phone, β€œyeah. do you have any plans for today?”
his brows furrow and smile widens when he hears the engine followed by your question, ”still not dark yet. this year we just decided to do fireworks β€˜n that’s it”
”well i think my car may be having a slight issue”
”like what?”
you giggle, β€œI’ll let you be the boss of that”
β€œi’ll tell you when i can swing by later today, β€˜kay?”
”alright, bye”
beau hangs up and walks back out to the living room, where carla and emily are. emily wanted to go out on the dirt bikes today, but carla said no that it’d be too dangerous and beau knows better than to do something behind carla’s back.
which is ironic since he gave you his number. ironic because every night when carla takes a shower, he’s staring at your window, unable to rip his eyes away when you change right in front of it. ironic because when he takes a shower, he’s fisting his cock, thinking about you.
his heart drops when he sees the boredom written all over his daughter’s face.
”em why don’t you go to a friend’s house?” he suggests
”you out of all people should know how dangerous it is to drive on the fourth, beau,” carla says
”then i’ll take her,” he sighs, β€œshe’s bored carla, let her have some fun,” he stands up, β€œsend me the address and i’ll take you, you can sleepover if it’s that one girls house, ava is it? i like her dad, deputy cortez”
”amber, dad, her name is amber,” emily laughs
”same thing,” he rolls his eyes playfully, β€œpack and let’s go”
he knows he and carla are going to get into a huge fight over this. he usually tries to avoid the fights, do whatever she wants because of emily, but there are certain things he just cannot get by.
but, he doesn’t know if he’s letting emily sleepover at a friends house to purposely start a fight with carla so he can feel less bad about the urge in him to kiss you, fuck you.
beau waits in his car for emily, wanting to steer clear of carla for now, which is when he gets a text from you. an image actually.
his eyes widen.
your hair is wet, there’s water droplets on your skin, specifically on your breasts, and you have your shorts on but unbuttoned and folded over, giving a sneak peek at the star design on the fabric.
you’re holding up the peace sign with kissy lips, looking innocent, but the way you angled your phone says otherwise.
”for my contact photo if you do that nonsense,” is what you sent under that picture
”I don’t, but thanks. πŸ‘πŸΌβ€ is what he sends, which makes you laugh
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around 4pm, you hear a knock on your door.
you know exactly who it is.
you apply some lip gloss and check yourself in the mirror, you haven’t changed out of your bikini and shorts, because you’ve been waiting for him, as pathetic as it sounds.
you open the door to see beau holding a bottle of beer he’s been nursing, β€œhey darlin’, what seems to be the problem?”
”nothing,” you shrug and smile, β€œcome in”
he sits down on your couch, where you notice his left hand.
his band is gone.
”no plans for the fourth is a bit strange,” you mutter, β€œyou being the sheriff and all I figured you’d be on a boat with american flags all over it”
he chuckles, running a hand over his beard, β€œcarla didn’t wanna do anythin’”
your eyes widen ”not even a lake day?”
β€œnope,” he takes a sip of his beer
”that’s no fun,” you reach your hands out behind your neck, toying with your straps, acting like they’re loosening up, β€œsorry my straps are like falling, do you-” you scoot closer to him, β€œcould you tie them for me, please?”
beau nods, moving his fingers in a come hither motion. you turn around, so your back is facing him. he moves your hair over to your shoulder and replaces your hands with his.
he keeps his eyes on the back of your neck, suddenly feeling jealous that the flimsy piece of fabric is closer to your skin than he is. he ties the knot intricately, so that your top won’t fall out of no where, but with the right tug, it’s gone. then he lets go of the straps when he’s done.
you lean forward, grabbing the glass bottle of beer he brought in, making the back of your shorts dip lower and he stares, wanting to pull them down and taste you.
you lean back, wrapping your lips around the rim, keeping eye contact with him. you hate the taste of beer, but you have a feeling with enough provoking he’ll give you just the thing you need to wash it down with.
his eyes stay on your lips, watching how they stay around the rim, now feeling jealous of a damn beer bottle.
so he takes it out of your hands, takes a sip, sets it down on your coffee table, β€œwhy’d you call me over darlin’?”
”i told you,” you feign innocence, β€œcar troubles”
he scoots in closer to you, thinking with the bulge growing in his jeans, β€œso if i do this you wouldn’t have a problem with it?”
he places his lips on your neck, sucking and swirling his tongue to leave a mark.
you tilt your head back, β€œno,” you answer his question
”and if i do this,” he slides a calloused hand down your stomach, fingers tangling in the straps if your bikini bottoms to untie them, but they’re still being held up by your shorts, β€œstill no problem darlin’?”
β€œnone,” you sigh
he leans over you, laying you flat on your couch and sliding his hand up and down your stomach while his mouth attacks your neck.
you remove his baseball hat so your fingers tangle up in his silky hair, pushing his head closer and moving your hips helplessly against nothing, searching for friction.
you were surprised it was that easy to get him to fold.
he wasn’t surprised that he didn’t even try harder to resist you.
carla is such a control freak. beau completely forgot about that when he decided to get back together with her. and to be fair, she showed signs of improvement.
but he was quickly proven wrong when she demanded so many things out of him. beau is not only a caretaker, but a people pleaser, a gentleman. so of course whatever she wants, she gets, he loved her.
so he missed the way women reacted to him. he missed having control, he missed having sex. he can tell carla just got bored of him, because the first time they had sex right as they got back together, she fucking enjoyed it.
now?
she just shows no reaction, no desire. nothing.
so the way you’re moving your hips, the soft breathless sounds leaving your plump lips, your blown pupils, it all gives him the desire he’s been craving.
you wrap your legs around his hips, the rough fabric of the denim shielding you two from each other providing enough satisfaction for now.
”you wanna stop? jus’ tell me,” he looks up at you from the valley of your breasts, teeth playing with the small string there. his eyes are hungry, but sincere. his beard scratches your soft skin, definitely causing irritation for later.
”don’t stop,” is all you say.
and it’s all it takes.
beau tugs on your bikini so it comes undone with the simple movement. his eyes light up at the metal bars piercing through your nipples.
”darlin’,” he licks his lips, β€œnow, these,” he lifts his head up to get a better view, β€œare just what i’ve been needin’,” he dips head back down and wraps his lips around the sensitive bud.
the piercings give you extra sensitivity, so you arch your back into his mouth, nails digging into his scalp, earning a groan from him. he rolls your other nipple with his thumb and index finger, occasionally running his thumb over it. he’s gentle enough to not tug on the piercings, but rough enough to make more sweet sounds come out of you.
he gives your nipple one final nibble and a flick of his tongue to soothe it before hovering over you, β€œtell me what you want darlin’.”
his voice is deep and laced with desire, there’s a fire in his eyes that you do not want to put out.
”whatever you want, you’re the boss”
you unintentionally told him exactly what he wanted to hear.
he catches your lower lip in between his teeth, tugging on it and watching it bounce back into place, β€œyou’re perfect” he mutters
beau gives you a teasing kiss, not letting his lips linger for no longer than a second. it makes you pout and he it awakes something in him.
it’s been way too long since he felt desired and wanted. too long since he felt that he was in control. he’d be like carla if he denied you any longer.
so when he kisses you, it’s all teeth and tongue. his hands squeeze your breasts, his hips rut into yours, making you moan into the kiss with each thrust.
his lips and tongue taste like malt liquor, a bit sweeter than usual beer. you start moving your hips to meet his thrusts. he puts his forehead on yours, his mouth no longer being rough to look at your body moving.
he fucking loved it.
he moves his way down your body, nibbling, sucking, kissing as he takes one hand to the back of his shirt to pull it off, revealing his tanned back.
he moves his way down to where your shorts are folded over, sliding his left arm up your body, splaying it over your chest.
and it is impossible for you to rip your eyes away from him. the way his back muscles move with every movement he does, his messy hair from the hat and your hands, the way he’s looking at you like you solved every problem for him.
his right hand pulls down your shorts and bottoms and he wastes no time on throwing one of your legs to the side to open you up to him to lap you up.
you moan and grip the arm that is holding you down as he laps at you like a man starved. he groans and rolls his hips into your sofa at the sounds you make.
his eyes are on your face, watching it scrunch up in pleasure, watching every small detail. your lips fall into a small pout and your brows are slightly raised and creased. he can tell you’re holding back, trying to not mark him up so he doesn’t get caught cheating.
so beau lifts up his head, hiking your leg up higher, β€œscratch me all you want darlin’,”
then he spits onto your pussy and dives in harder this time. he sucks and flicks his warm and experienced tongue over your clit repeatedly. if it weren’t for the hold he has on you, you’d be fucking yourself on his face.
you dig your nails into his forearm, leaving red marks in their wake. you throw your head back on the soft cushion of the couch and just let him devour you.
his tongue laps around your entrance, nose bumping your clit, shaking his head to delve in deeper.
”beau i’m-β€œ you moan, β€œclose”
he moans when he feels your walls tighten up around his tongue, which was all it took to get you writhing under him.
he laps up all of your juices, finishing by placing a soft kiss on your hip. he sits up against the couch, picking your sensitive body and placing it on his lap.
you whimper at the denim scratching at the raw marks between your thighs from his beard.
”you taste incredible darlin’,” he murmurs against you lips, allowing you to run your tongue over the lingering taste of you and liquor.
he lifts his hips up and you throw your head onto his shoulder. he grabs a condom he had in his back pocket
”you planned this,” you pant
”shut up and put this condom on me darlin’,” his voice is soft, moving the condom wrapper in your mouth.
you close your teeth on a corner and he tugs on it, then he places it in your palm.
you lean back to unbutton and unzip his jeans, pulling them slightly down as his girthy and veiny cock springs out.
his hands are gripping onto your thighs, waiting in anticipation, β€œdon’t tease me darlin’, if you can’t take jus’ tell me”
you’re zoned out on his cock, looking at how it’s twitching and the redness at the tip. there’s precum beading all over the red tip, so you run your thumb over it, making it twitch again.
”darlin’,” he exhales, β€œput it on and start bouncin’ on my cock”
you ignore him, bringing your thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue over the saltiness of your thumb and him, which in response, he throws his head back.
you remove your thumb and you spit in the palm of your left hand, to slowly jerk him, and he sighs, β€œyou’re big” you whisper
he lifts his head back up, looking at you through hooded eyes, ”you gonna take it?”
you roll the condom gently on his length ”can i call you daddy when i do?”
he chuckles, β€œabso-fuckin’-lutely”
you line him up to your entrance, teasing you guys both, then he grabs his base and slips his tip in, making you gasp and hold onto his shoulders, β€œtold you to stop teasin’ me”
he lets you sink down on him, stretching you out to the brim, β€œdaddy” you whine
he places his hand on the back of your head, β€œi know darlin’, i know, take your time,” he says through gritted teeth
your walls flutter around his warm and hard cock, adjusting to him while you both pant at the relief.
as bad as it is to think, it’s been a long time since beau has been inside someone as tight as you, as perky breasts as you, as energetic as you, as young as you.
and he knew what trouble he was going to get himself into later, so might as well top it off by lifting you up.
”wha- wait,” you say panicked
he removes his condom and throws it off to the side, β€œneed to feel all of you darlin’,” is all he says when he slides back in
he pulls your hips back down on him, moaning at the tight and wet sensation of you
”whenever you’re ready darlin’,” he mumbles
you nod, bracing yourself on his shoulders and you move up and down on him, digging crescent moons on his freckled skin. he grips your waist, guiding you up and down him, watching your face and flicking his eyes down at your tits.
you start moving quicker, which is when he leans forward to catch a nipple in his mouth, kneading the other breast in his big palm as he looks up at you. he flicks his tongue over the bud and plays with the metal bar, moving it side to side as much as he can.
”you’re doin’ s’good f’daddy darlin’,” he speaks around your nipple, the vibration sending electricity down your core
your living room his filled with the sounds coming out of your mouth and his moans and praises, pornographic sounds of your pussy taking his thick cock. the trimmed hair at the base of his length ignites fire on your throbbing and swollen lips.
beau throws his head back, jaw going slack but keeping his hands on your breasts massaging them with every bounce. he starts thrusting his hips up into yours, hitting that gummy spot with his fat tip
”don’t stop daddy” you whine out
”i won’t darlin’,” he watches your body bounce on him, eyeing at where you both are connected. the irritation from his facial and body hair evident on your pussy, how you stretch out to take him, your nails digging into his skin, the fact that you’re calling him daddy, you look so lost in him.
it’s what he’s been searching for. someone that makes him not just feel wanted, but needed.
and you do need him, you just don’t know why. can’t bother to figure it out either when he’s splitting you in half.
you like him so much that you do not want this to stop.
the knot in your stomach keeps getting tighter and tighter when you feel his hands all up on you, massaging and rubbing circles on your sensitive clit.
your walls start clenching around him and you press your forehead onto his shoulder, β€œi’m close”
”daddy’s gotchu darlin’, go β€˜head, take what you need,” he places a kiss on the side of your face, still driving his hips up into yours and rubbing small tight circles on your clit, β€œyou feel s’good darlin’”
your mouth hangs open on his skin, teeth grazing him with every rough thrust of his hips.
without warning, you cum around him, body falling limp onto his. he keeps rubbing your clit and he places his other hand on your back, while he leans forward to go deeper, which makes you mewl.
”few more seconds darlin’,” he grunts out
he supports your neck so your head doesn’t dangle fully back and with one, deep thrust, he cums inside of you, moaning your name.
your chests fall up and down rapidly, trying to catch your breaths and he leans back on your couch, panting.
he doesn’t let go of you, not yet, he doesn’t want the feeling of being desired to leave just yet.
”carla’s gonna be mad at you,” you mumble
he chuckles, β€œdidn’t care few minutes ago,” he kisses your shoulder, β€œwhy would i care now?”
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AN: hi hope you enjoy i just had a strong urge to call him daddy idk why
lace divider by: @toastray
orange line divider by @elleisdesigning
#smut#beau arlen#sheriff beau arlen#beau arlen x reader#beau arlen fic
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littlangelsinner Β· 2 months ago
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This is definitely a story I wouldn’t really want a reader in because this concept is actually interesting enough. Cause I’ve played with this idea with some of Jens Characters. Like Beau and Dean being Twins, Or Ben and Dean being twins. Or Alec.
κ•€ οΉ‘ οΎžΰ³€ β™₯︎ introducing the . . . TERROR ✸ TWINS .ᐟ
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twin theboys/bigsky au created by millie && kari. β“˜ parental advisory explicit content.
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κ’° ⌒ οΉ’ they fight like dogs .ᐟ β˜† κ’± ambiverts. heavy chain smokers. twins. deceased father. absent mother. car mechanic. car dealerships. bruised & bloodied knuckles. business degrees. serious. responsible. charming. reckless.
details about the terror twins .ᐟ
BEAU ARLEN the older twin by thirty minutes, and you'd think it was thirty years with the way he acts. serious, responsible, always trying to clean up whatever mess ben leaves behind.
BEN ARLEN? ben's the wild one. the charming, reckless, absolutely exhausting force of nature. he's got a grin that gets him out of trouble and fists that get him right back into it.
they love each other, obviously. but they also fight like it's a sport. screaming matches that shake the walls, usually ending in one storming out and the other slamming a door.
the only thing that makes them stop fighting? someone else trying to come between them. beau might threaten to kill ben at least once a week, but let someone else take a swing at his brother? he's throwing hands without hesitation.
details about their family history .ᐟ
their dad was a drunk and mean as hell. died when they were teens. nobody cried.
their mom checked out long before that. stopped really seeing them after they got older β€” said they looked too much like him. started calling them "boys" instead of their names. sometimes forgot birthdays. didn't come to graduation.
they learned early that family wasn't about blood β€” it was about who showed up. and most times, it was just the two of them.
details about their school years .ᐟ
both of them were smart as hell. scary smart. but BEN ARLEN couldn't sit still long enough to care, and BEAU ARLEN couldn't rest until he got it all right.
BEAU ARLEN did the full four years of college. business degree. he liked structure. liked knowing what came next. liked rules because rules made sense.
BEN ARLEN made it two years. got bored. got into fights. got out. he says it was a waste of time. beau still says it was a waste of potential.
despite the chaos, they were a team. if BEN ARLEN got into it with someone β€” football players, frat boys, townies β€” BEAU ARLEN would show up, jaw clenched, fists ready. not because ben needed help, but because he hated seeing his twin bleed.
afterwards? he'd drag ben home, sit him on a chair, and ice his face in silence. ben would smirk the whole time. beau would mutter "you're a fucking idiot" under his breath like a prayer.
details about their adulthood & work .ᐟ
after college, BEAU ARLEN chased that "build something from nothing" dream like it was religion. long nights, tight budgets, early mornings. now? he's got his own car dealership. big glass windows, polished floors, high-end cars, and his name on the sign.
he's got a staff, a secretary, a sleek suit, and a watch that costs more than ben's entire apartment. but he earned every bit of it, and he's proud of that.
ben? BEN ARLEN works with his hands. grease under his nails, oil on his shirt, music blasting in the garage. he's a mechanic β€” a damn good one. it keeps him grounded. keeps the anger out of his fists and into something productive.
BEAU ARLEN got him the shop gig. told him he needed something steady. ben rolled his eyes, but he took it. and he stayed.
every time ben crashes a car β€” and he crashes a lot β€” beau replaces it without hesitation. ben always fixes the old one anyway. "you already bought me a new one, dumbass." "and you're already fixing the one you wrecked, dumbass."
it's a cycle. but it works for them. always has.
details about their dynamics .ᐟ
BEAU ARLEN is logic. he plans everything, thinks five steps ahead, worries himself sick. he's got a good job, pays his bills on time, has a coffee order and a bedtime routine.
BEN ARLEN is chaos. he drives too fast, drinks too much, never answers his phone. he picks fights with strangers, flirts with danger, and lives like he's got nothing to lose.
they don't always talk. sometimes they go weeks without seeing each other. but when shit hits the fan? when something really goes wrong? ben shows up at beau's door, busted lip and bruised ribs, and beau lets him in without a word.
terror twins extras .ᐟ
BEN ARLEN always calls him "big brother" when he wants to piss him off. beau rolls his eyes but secretly likes it.
BEAU ARLEN keeps a box of first-aid stuff in his kitchen just for ben. doesn't let anyone else touch it.
ben once punched a guy in a bar for saying beau was "too uptight." beau bailed him out and said thank you through gritted teeth, though, ben didn't need to do it.
they never say "i love you." they say "you're an idiot" and "don't do that again" and "text me when you get home." it means the same thing.
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⟑ TRY TO KEEP UP WITH THEIR CHAOS .ᐟ ΦΉ Φ΄ κ’±
ΒΉ prove it in bed.
βŒ— kari notes. millie @soldiersgirl and i are super duper excited to share with u all, our beloved terror twins !!! we came up with the idea two weeks ago (insane) and cannot stop talking about it. we hope u love them as much as we do! <3
@ deansbeer is tagging you .ᐟ @titsout4jackles @daylighted @bluemerakis @deanswidow @beausling @jensenacklesballsack @h8aaz @bluestrd @ultravi0lence14 @blue-d @stereotypicalbarbie @bluestrd @fuckedupfate @bejeweledinterludes @blossomingorchids @tinas111 @0ccvltism @bruisedfig @deanswifeyy @dollyfiles @cupidzbunny @kamisobsessed @pieandflannel @faiszt @acaibcwl @americanvenom13 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @mahi-wayy @samslovebug @angelicjackles @sl33pylilbunny β•± wanna be added? join my taglist <3
#kari β™‘ writes.#terror twins#mikari <3#beau arlen#ben arlen#soldier boy#beau arlen x fem!reader#soldier boy x fem reader#soldier boy fanfiction#beau arlen fluff
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littlangelsinner Β· 2 months ago
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Think Fast- A Dean Winchester and Claire Novak aesthetic
Claire was like the little sister Dean had never wanted and when Jody invited him and Sam to Christmas at her house he knew he’d have to deal with Claire’s attitude. They’d shown up and as usual she was all in a huff not wanting to have anything to do with the day. But Dean snuck up on her and got her right in the side with a snowball. She’d shrieked and tossed one back and before long they where hurling snow at each other and laughing loudly in Jody’s front yard.
December 17 - Snowball Fight Part of @averymerryspnxmasβ€˜s Day by Day Very Merry Supernatural Christmas. I’ve chosen to create a piece for every topic this holiday season. Please enjoy!
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#ugh this is adorable#claire novak#dean winchester#spn aesthetic#spn#supernatural#i'm gonna go fart confetti now#averymerryspnxmas#supernatural aesthetic#dean aesthetic
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