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#this better not age badly if something happens it was not me
Jack Skellington inventing a mirror that clones copies of the Halloween Town citizens. Sally coming from an ancient realm where she has ragdoll parents. What could The Battle for Pumpkin King POSSIBLY do to me next???
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seventh-district · 12 days
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man. grief really sneaks up on ya at the most random times
#Seven's Public Diary#grief#cw grief#vent#cw vent#vent post#cw vent post#cw death#cw pet death#cw pet loss#one minute ur folding laundry and the next ur sobbing over a dog that’s been dead for nearly 10 years#and the one that’s been dead for 9. and the one that's been dead for almost 5. and the cat that’s been dead for almost 3.#and the list goes on. once i start crying about one of them i start crying abt all of them#but it always starts with her. she’s always the first in my mind when something reminds me of dead pets#something. happened to my brain. when i lost her. i don’t think anything else has ever fucked me up so badly#which is saying a lot given that i’ve lost actual human family. i feel kinda bad admitting it bc like. how do u say that a pet’s death-#-hurt you more than a persons. how do u say that and not sound Wrong. i dunno#a number of factors all came together to combine into such an awful experience with losing her specifically.. that it just. was different.#kinda insane how it’ll be a decade this year and the impact of her death on me and my development is as profound as ever#losing her shaped several core parts of who i am now#at least she’s still with me in that sense. for better or for worse.#anyways. it’s not a complete mystery why it suddenly hit me. but it’s still wild how much grief hurts when it comes back to the surface#the combination of my Very late period finally being about to start aka Hormone Storm currently happening#plus randomly hearing The House That Built Me for the first time in ages… was more than enough to do me in#it’s been many months it feels.. since my last breakdown over it. so i was due for another round of remembering and lamenting i suppose#i feel better now tho. or no not Better. just emptier. good empty i guess#i’m also very hungry now though. so that's enough venting abt it.#it’s time for food and sleep now
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mypoisonedvine · 2 months
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𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | angus tully x reader
sequel to 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, won't really make much sense without reading that!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | holiday break can only last so long, but angus wants this to be more than a fling-- and you, as much as you want to deny it, already know it's more than a fling. the question remains if either one of you will admit it.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.3k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), age gap (not huge but angus is 18 and the reader is just out of college), semi-public sex, breeding kink, very inappropriate activities in a church, secret relationship, a wee bit of angst and fluff at the end!
part 3 coming soon!
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“Fuck, I don’t wanna go back,” he groaned, dropping his head defeatedly into the crook of your neck.  “I never wanna go back to that horrible fucking school.”
“I guess you’ll just see me at Easter break then, huh?” you purred, grazing your teeth over his ear.
“You know, if sex with you keeps lining up with the Catholic calendar, it’s gonna give me a complex or something,” he noticed.
“Oh, I can do better than that,” you beamed.  “Next time you see me at Mass, I won’t be wearing any panties.  And you’ll be the only other one who knows.”
He perked up again, balancing himself over you with bent arms against the mattress.  “I swear, you’re a dream come true.  A really fucked up dream I had after seeing a porno mag or something.”
You laughed, but it was cut off with him pulling you into another kiss— sweet and slow, with both of you smiling against each other.  With your limbs tangled together under the sheets, you melted together into your bed; and no, none of it really seemed real yet.  Every time this happened, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you were hooking up with Angus Tully.  Frankly, you were sort of trying not to think about it, at least not too much.  If you really tried, you could look at his face and see the little kid you babysat all those years ago, and it just made you feel sort of awful about it… yet you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.
Your smile fell into a gasp when he started to kiss your neck, his hands guiding your back as it arched slightly.  When he pressed his body against yours, you felt him getting hard against your leg, and you groaned softly.
“Fuck, Angus, again?” you whined.  “We already went twice—”
“I’m leaving in two days,” he explained, “I need you as many times as I can get away with it.”
You wanted to protest, say something about how sore you were or about how he needed to leave and go back home before someone noticed he was gone— but his slender fingers were already diving between your legs and making you just moan instead.
“See?  You’re wet already,” he noticed with a playful mockery to his tone.  “I’ve gotta take care of you, baby…”
Oh, you couldn’t stand it when he talked like that— when he made you feel so vulnerable to him, so paradoxically submissive.  When this started a couple weeks back, it was the other way around: you were the cool, older woman with all the power.  You told him what you wanted and he was more than happy to oblige, never questioning you— he was obedient, basically.  But once you’d had a few more encounters, he realized that you wanted him just as badly… that he could make you desperate, if he wanted.  Once he’d had the smallest taste of control, he was suddenly a changed man; now, he loved to tease and taunt you, see how far he could push you, even once he made you beg— and you expected you’d never get to live that down. 
He watched your face with a mischievous smile as he slowly slid two fingers into you, watching the way you winced and then relaxed.  “I’ll be careful,” he promised, “I know you’re all sensitive still… thought you might wake up the whole house with that last one.”
You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed, remembering how he’d had to cover your mouth with his hand when he made you come.  These were issues you hadn’t considered much before, since you spent most of the year living in a dorm where you didn’t really care if anyone heard what you were up to.  Staying in your parents’ house again— and secretly fucking their friends’ son in your childhood bedroom— posed new challenges to say the least.
You gasped when his fingers curled inside you, rubbing that spot that made everything clench for a moment.  “Mm,” he observed encouragingly, “like that?”
“Yes,” you hissed under your breath.  Just when you began to let your eyes fall shut, they shot open when he added a third finger inside you.  “Fuck!” 
“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” he scolded, “you can fit three fingers just fine— my cock’s bigger than all that anyways.”
He twisted the fingers inside you as your hips rocked, shivers running over your skin.  “Yeah, but still— fuck, it’s a lot…”
“You take it just fine,” he assured.  “You take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Sh-shut up,” you whimpered, and he laughed softly.
“You’re so good for me,” he continued anyways, making you bite your lip in hopes he wouldn’t notice his effect on you.  Whenever he said stuff like that, you just wanted to ask him who the fuck he thought he was— it made you want to shove him off of you and pin him down, remind him of his place.  But you never did, because letting him take control always felt so damn good…
His head dipped down a bit under the covers— and his lips latched onto one of your nipples, making you gasp and grab his hair with one of your hands.  “Oh god— yes,” you praised, shuddering a bit as he suckled hard on the bud.
He moaned around it, his free hand holding the other breast and keeping you down even when your back longed to arch deeper.  “You get so wet when I do this,” he noticed as he pulled away briefly, moving to suck the other for a moment as his fingers gently pumped into you.  When he pushed them in all the way to the knuckle, at the same time that his tongue swirled around your nipple just right, your patience finally gave in.
“Just fuck me,” you begged, tugging harder on his curls as you felt him smile against your skin.  “God, I just— fuck—”
He pulled away from your breast with a pop and a grin.  “Just ask nicely, baby, and I’m all yours.”
“I know you want to, just fuck me,” you growled, but he shook his head and you clenched your jaw.
“You can say it,” he encouraged, “just use the magic word.”
You rolled your eyes, hating the juvenile way of describing it, but his fingers were still moving inside you and you just needed it too bad— “Please,” you breathed.  “Please fuck me.”
“There you go,” he praised, slowly pulling his drenched fingers out of you and moving his hips to line up with yours instead.  He was so hard; you were almost impressed with his resolve, though at the moment you were mostly just annoyed with it.  “Look up at me,” he demanded, making you meet his gaze before he pushed himself inside you.
It was almost too intense, looking right into his eyes as he thrust into you carefully— you bit your lip, watching the heavy sigh of relief leave him as he filled you.
“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes scanning all over your face and watching your expression change as he pressed his cock as deep as possible.  “You’re fucking perfect.”
You didn’t really believe that, but you at least would concede that this moment was perfect.
You held tighter onto him, legs wrapping around his hips, as he leaned in closer and moaned against your neck.  “How am I supposed to leave when you feel this fucking good?” he groaned lowly, and you felt yourself already beginning to pulse inside as you moved closer to the edge.  “I feel good too, right?”
Poor thing— if only he knew that it was his own fault you withheld praise, just because he sounded too precious when he asked you for reassurance like that.  He was really fucking talkative, way more than you expected; sometimes you thought if you didn’t say anything, he’d just go off on these wild tangents about how bad he needs you.  “You feel good,” you replied, trying to keep it a little vague so he’d ask for more.
“How good?” he asked with a grin, and you smiled, too, because he was wonderfully predictable sometimes.
“So good,” you cooed, “so fucking good that I’m gonna come way too fast.”
“Hey, that’s my thing,” he joked.  His stamina had definitely increased a lot in just a few encounters, but he still had a habit of coming quickly if you got him a bit too riled up.  Not that you really minded… it was still cute, after all, and he usually made it up to you one way or another.
He picked up his pace, letting out a low moan against your ear.  “Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he ordered, panting with each quick thrust.
“Fuck, Angus, I want you come,” you replied, whispering against his ear.  “I want you to fill me—”
“Fuck…”
“And put all your come so deep in me—”
“Fuck, baby,” he whined again.  “I’m so fucking close.”
You whined, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling your chest get tighter as you moved closer to the edge.
“Tell me you want me to breed you,” he added; okay, so much for predictable…
“Wh-what?” you choked, feeling suddenly hot all over.  “Angus, I—”
“I know, you won’t,” he soothed, “it’s just, you know, pretend… just say you want it, please.”
You swallowed but nodded, holding on tighter to the back of his neck.  “I… I want you to get me pregnant.”
“God, yes,” he whined through his teeth, fucking you faster.
“I-I want you to fill me up so I can have a baby,” you continued in a whisper, and he moaned again as his grip on your hips tightened.  You could hardly believe what you were saying, nor that he had asked you to say it, and yet it made the most wonderfully bizarre feeling stir inside you— strangest of all, it was turning you on.  “F-fuck, Angus, I’m gonna come.”
“You’re gonna come with me?” he pressed, sighing when you nodded.  “Fuck, let’s do it— we’ll come together.  That’ll definitely get you pregnant.”
“Jesus, Angus,” you hissed, “what are you talking about?”
“It doesn’t get you hot, thinking about it?” he challenged.  “Thinking about us making a baby right now?  Imagining how good it would feel to let me breed you and make you a mommy?”
“Sh-shut the fuck up,” you grunted, but you were already trying to hold it back.
“God, you want it so bad,” he noticed— how was he only this perceptive in these sorts of situations?  “You want me to come in you and knock you up, I can tell.  You’re gonna come just thinking about it.”
Even though it wasn’t really just thinking about it— it was him fucking you deep and fast and hard after a whole night of making love— you were forced to bite your lip and nod.
“C’mon, baby, I wanna feel it again,” he purred.  “Feels so fucking perfect when you come around me— you’re mine, aren’t you?”
Your heart jumped and your eyes shut tight.  “God,” you groaned in frustration, but he just smiled and held you tighter.
“It’s okay,” he cooed, “nobody has to know, it’s just me— you’re mine, right?  Say it.  Say you’re mine.”
You whined when it hit you— and nothing had ever hit you quite like that.  Tensing up inside, pulsing uncontrollably, you felt the weight on your chest lift and you dug your nails into his shoulders as he fucked you through it.  “Fuck!  I-I’m yours!” you blurted out, unable to stop it when you were drowning in your ecstasy like that.
He swore against your ear, and gave you hardly one more thrust before falling over the edge himself, groaning weakly as his body sank down onto yours.
You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t force you to address any of what you’d just said; he looked so exhausted that you almost wanted to let him fall asleep here if it meant avoiding that conversation.  But it was just like him to only give you about ten seconds of silence before running his mouth again.
He started by just sitting up enough to kiss you on the cheek, then the lips, then the side of your forehead when you turned away.  “That was so hot,” he announced, still catching his breath, as he grinned down at you.
“That was… different,” you admitted as you hoped your embarrassment wouldn’t show on your face.  “You weren’t serious, right?  I mean, you know I’m on the pill—”
“Yeah, of course,” he assured, “it’s just, I don’t know, a fantasy.”
You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him.  “Respectfully, I thought it was more of a nightmare— you know, it’s kinda worst-case-scenario here.”
“No, no, I know— that’s why it’s fun,” he explained.  “‘Cause it’s, like, bad.  Well, not bad, but… scary.  In a good way!  Like a rollercoaster or something.”
“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed, “just like a rollercoaster.  That’s why the maternity ward at the hospital looks so much like Six Flags.”
“You know what I mean,” he laughed.  “It’s just… if it actually happened it would be a huge fucking deal… but just imagining it, just for fun I mean, it makes my heart race.  See?”
He picked up one of your hands and put it on his neck, pressing your fingers into his pulse so you could feel its rapidness.  “Fair enough,” you shrugged, “you sure scared the crap out of me for a second.”
“You liked it,” he cooed, kissing the tip of your nose.  “You like being mine, too.”
Even if you could’ve hid the reaction on your face somehow, the way your weak muscles still found the energy to clench around his softening cock gave you away; he purred as he smiled, kissing you more tenderly on the lips this time.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to you.
“I probably look like a mess,” you laughed quietly, “I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like after a night like this.”
“Yeah, that’s how I like you, though— you look pretty all fucked up,” he explained.
You glanced over as he moved to bury his face in your neck again, only to see the slightest blue glow in the window: the early light just before dawn.  “Angus, it’s almost morning,” you noticed.  “You need to go.”
“Not yet,” he begged, hugging you tighter.  “I bet I can make you come again—”
“No,” you snapped, “if your parents find out you snuck out— and if anyone knows you came here—”
“Baby, c’mon,” he pouted, “I’ll be quick, nobody’s gonna know—”
“I swear to god, Angus—”
“Fine, fine,” he sighed, “then just kiss me before I go.”
He held your cheek and turned your face to his, and you kissed him; you hated these kisses, the ones that felt like goodbye.  They were amazing, of course, but they always broke your heart.
“I’ll see you later?” he assumed.
“You’ll see me on Sunday,” you replied.
“Nooo, I can’t wait that long,” he whined.
“Yes you can,” you breathed.  “Now get up, please, before I have to literally kick you out.”
“Fine,” he relented, climbing off of you and searching the floor for his boxers and t-shirt.
“I still can’t believe you ran here without even putting a coat on,” you remembered, “it’s below freezing out.”
“Whatever, it’s not even a block to my house,” he rolled his eyes.
“Mr. Lindy across the street takes out the trash insanely early in the morning— what if he sees you running back to your house in the snow without any fucking clothes on?!” 
“He was young once, right?  He’ll understand,” Angus laughed.
“I’m hoping he doesn’t understand,” you groaned, “‘cause if he figures it out and tells my parents—”
“I know,” he breathed, slipping on his shoes and leaning over the bed to kiss you quickly.  “It’ll be fine, okay?”
“Okay,” you smiled back.
There was a brief pause before Angus dropped his arms down against his sides, hitting his legs; “Well, I… guess I’ll see you at Mass,” he announced.
“That’s gotta be the weirdest thing to say after hooking up with somebody,” you decided.
“I couldn’t think of anything else!” he defended.  “I’m about to jump out your window, it’s already a pretty weird transition.”
“Okay, first of all, please don’t jump,” you replied, “but fair enough.  I’ll see you at Mass.”
He hesitated, suddenly giving you one more kiss— one that lingered a little more— before opening your window and beginning to climb out.
~
Mass was certainly a lot more interesting when you kept feeling Angus’ eyes on you.  His family had been just barely on time for the service, so you hadn’t been able to talk to him before it started; you could tell he was dying to know if you’d gone through with it.
You tugged on the bottom of your dress as you adjusted yourself in the pew; it was definitely a weird feeling, and you couldn’t stop worrying that someone, somehow, would see up your skirt and get an eyeful.  The anxiety of it was oddly arousing, though— it made you understand a bit better what Angus had said about the whole scary in a good way thing.
When you occasionally spared a glance at him, you noticed that Angus still looked a little underslept; you’d both been up all night just a couple days ago, but the difference was that your parents didn’t really mind if you spent most of the next day in your room, so you’d had a chance to catch up— Angus’ parents were more determined to make use of his time off from school, and had him doing all kinds of chores and activities on Saturday that prevented him from getting more than a quick nap here and there.
And they’d tugged him out of bed bright and early for church today, so he was probably still feeling the effects of an all-nighter.  That said, he certainly didn’t seem lacking in energy at the moment— he kept wringing his hands, constantly glancing at you, so noticeably that his mom lightly smacked him on the shoulder when she noticed it.
But you were looking across the aisle at him, too.  If for no other reason than how cute he looked in his shirt and tie.
After the service, as everyone mingled around coffee and donuts, Angus made a beeline towards you— you’d kind of hoped he would be a little more subtle.
“Hey,” he greeted, and you just nodded at him with a smirk.  “It’s been too long.”
He glanced at all the people passing by, stepping closer to you to let someone walk past but never moving back; he waited until no one was too close before he spoke again in a lower voice.
“Are you really not wearing any…?” he asked, an extra sparkle in his eye and a mischievous smile on his face.  His smile dropped a bit when you nodded, though, and his eyes raked over you in the most intoxicating, lascivious way.  You were sure you’d never had someone look at you like that, like they’d give anything to devour you right then— and with no panties to hold it, you felt your arousal slicken where your thighs rubbed together.
He cleared his throat and glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was looking over at him as he adjusted his corduroys awkwardly; you licked your lips, a little too flattered by the effect you had on him.
“That’s, um, that’s…” he mumbled, tripping over his words.  “That’s really… yeah.”
“Really what?” you challenged as you bit your lip briefly, moving closer to him and all but batting your eyes up at him.
“It’s really fucking sexy,” he whispered.
“Yeah?” you cooed.  “I think it’s sexy that you think it’s sexy.”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about—” he began.
“I know,” you sighed, “me too.”
“I wasn’t even tired that day— I was wired, actually,” he laughed quietly.  “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Your heart’s pace picked up a bit, and you glanced away briefly.  “I, um… I thought about you, too.
“There’s gotta be somewhere we can go,” he whispered.  “It’s a big place— everyone’s here, if we just… found an empty room—”
“Jesus, Angus— in a church?!” you hissed.
“Come on,” he begged, “I don’t know when we’ll get a chance again— and I’m leaving tomorrow— and I want you so bad—”
“Shh,” you warned him, making sure no one was nearby again.  “We’ll figure something out— just not here.  It’s too risky.”
“But I need you now,” he insisted, voice lower and darker as he stepped just a bit closer to you.  “It won’t take us long— I mean, it definitely won’t take me long, after spending the last two days thinking about you.”
You crossed your arms, looking down at the floor, and you felt him lean in over you.  “Please, baby?” he whispered under his breath.
Releting, you took a glance at the crowd and made sure nobody was looking in your direction.  “You go find an empty room in the east wing.  I’ll talk to a few people— so it doesn’t look like we’re going together— and I’ll come find you in a few minutes, okay?”
“Great,” he beamed.  “Uh, which way is east again?”
You pointed him in the right direction and watched him bound away, sighing to yourself as you re-entered the crowd.  You got a lot of questions about your plan now that you finished your degree— and you found yourself repeating the same stock answer about how your graduate program didn’t start until the fall so you had the spring and summer to stay home.  Even though you knew you needed to kill some time to look less suspicious, you found yourself glancing constantly towards the east wing, getting more and more impatient for your chance to slip away as unnoticed as possible.
As the crowd was clearing out and nearly everyone’s attention was turned onto somebody’s new baby, you took the opportunity to disappear into the dark hallway.  As you peered around the doors, you saw Angus peeking out at you through one of the little windows; the door opened, and you slipped into an abandoned Sunday school classroom, barely having time to gingerly shut the door behind you before you felt his lips on your neck and his hand sliding up your thigh.
“That took forever,” he complained, and before you could remind him it had hardly been five minutes, his fingers were exploring between your legs.  “Fuck, what’re you so wet for?” he teased, and you groaned as you pulled him closer by his pants and hopped up to sit on the low bookshelf nearby.
“Just hurry up,” you hissed, “we need to get this over with before somebody finds us here.”
He opened his fly quickly, but struggled slightly to free himself from the confines of his trousers; you hummed a bit when he got it out, pressing it against you right away as you moved your hips up.
Thrusting into you all at once, you both sighed slowly; you took hold of his shoulders, he grabbed onto your hips, and instantly he began to fuck into you impatiently.
“God, you’re so tight,” he hissed against your ear.  “Touch yourself— I want you to come, too.”
You reached between your bodies to put a few fingers on your clit, rubbing fast in hopes that you could catch up with him.
“Do you always do what you’re told?” he mocked playfully.
“I think the fact that we’re doing this right after church proves that I don’t,” you replied.
“Guess you only do what I tell you to,” he shrugged, which really made you want to talk back, but you couldn’t because you were trying not to moan too loudly.
He moved faster inside you, and something about the angle of sitting up on the shelf was making him hit just the right spot— or maybe you were sensitive from the exhilarating fear of getting caught.
“What if I got you pregnant here?” he purred, making you arch your back slightly.  “Wouldn’t that be funny?”
“You’ve got a weird sense of humor, Tully,” you breathed, struggling not to let your voice come out all whiny and weak.
“Knocked up at St. Mary’s… it’s what God would want, right?”
“Do you never shut up?” you hissed.
“No,” he smirked, “you’re cute when you’re ticked off at me.”
His eyes met yours, and you felt a strange emotion stir in your chest: you bit your lip, willing yourself to tear away from his gaze, but you found it impossible somehow.
One of his hands moved from your hip up to your chest, palming at you through your dress.  You tensed up inside, making him wince a bit, and you couldn’t believe how close you were already.
“Oh god, baby, m’gonna come,” you whimpered, moving your hand even faster over your clit; he groaned in approval, leaning in to kiss all along your neck.
“Come for me,” he pleaded, “I’m so fucking close— please come, fuck—”
“R-right there,” you gasped, gripping his shoulder tighter— actually, that wasn’t the only place you were gripping him tighter.  He was struggling to maintain the pace of his thrusts, in fact, with how hard your walls were bearing down on him.  “Yes, yes, yes—”
“Not too loud,” he warned you, and you bit hard on your own lip to suppress your moan: it stayed in your throat instead, and you heard him gasp as he heard and felt you reaching your peak.  He had to take his hand off your chest and put it on the bookshelf under you to help keep you upright, and he looked down between your bodies to watch himself give you a few final thrusts.
He stopped suddenly, whimpering slightly as he buried himself in you as deep as he could go; you sighed and laid back on the bookshelf again, having to tilt your head to avoid a figurine of some prophet or saint that you had absolutely no interest in identifying at the moment.
Angus took a moment to catch his breath, before looking back over his shoulder and through the door’s window to make sure no one was in the hallway.  He pulled his cock out of you carefully and did his best to fit it back into his pants.  As you felt a warm oozing feeling between your legs, your face began to heat up.
“Maybe I didn’t think this through,” you realized.
“What?” he mumbled.
“I’m gonna have to go out there with nothing on under my dress, with your come leaking out of me.”
He bit his lip.
“It’s not sexy, Angus!  It’s very inconvenient!” you frowned.
“It’s both,” he insisted.  “It’s very much both.”
~
Though you did get another chance to see Angus before he left, it wasn’t that sort of rendezvous, unfortunately.  Although, just sitting and talking with him was wonderful, too— in an entirely different way.  See, that was the thing that scared you most, even more than how badly you’d come to crave his touch: how happy you felt just being with him.
He was funny, and weird, and seemed to think your stories from college were fascinating; he was well-read, especially for a high school student, and you two could chat about your favorite books— a hobby most of your classmates in college found too nerdy to sympathize with.  
It probably looked totally wholesome from the outside: two childhood friends catching up while they were back home for a while.  And you, you probably looked normal and cool on the outside— you were trying to, at least.  But inside, you were terrified.  You wanted it to be like what Angus said— scary, in a good way, like a rollercoaster— but you were starting to just feel sick.  You know, like an actual rollercoaster would…
“Everyone there is so… dumb,” Angus decided as he leaned back, looking up at the ceiling.
“That can’t be true, it’s a good school,” you tried to encourage him.
“I mean, maybe they could be smart, but they act like morons,” he clarified.  “They hate me, too, and I don’t even really know why.”
“Probably because they can sense that you think they’re all morons,” you suggested; and he looked over at you, as if he’d genuinely never thought of that before.
But instead of addressing that, he sat up again and changed the subject.  “My parents probably want me to go back and, like, put my trunk in the car and stuff…”
“Right,” you nodded, “you should go.”
“Yeah— b-but, listen, um, before I do…” he trailed off, leaning a little closer to you on the couch.  “I wanted to, you know, talk.  About something.”
“We’ve been talking for half an hour,” you noticed.
“Right, uh— I meant something specific,” he explained, his cheeks seeming to get a little bit more pink.  “I… I won’t be back until spring break, you know…”
“Uh huh,” you nodded, raising an eyebrow as you wondered what he was getting at.
“And, you know, we’ve been having such a great time,” he went on, and your heart twisted.  You’d heard this spiel before: the things are so good now, why do we need to put a label on it? why can’t we just have fun talk.  The you’re great, but not good enough for more than this talk.  You decided to jump in and spare him before he said anything too… honest.
“I get it,” you promised, and he looked at you nervously.  “We’re gonna be too far apart for too long— and you shouldn’t, you know, feel like you’re tied down to anything.  It’s okay— I didn’t think I was, like, your girlfriend or anything.”
“R-right,” he coughed, looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck.  “Yeah, that’s— that’s what I was gonna say.  I knew you’d understand.”
You smiled, wishing you weren’t always so goddamn understanding.  “But it was fun— a good way to kill time over the break, for sure.”
“Yeah,” he agreed alongside a thin laugh.  “I… I think I’ll always owe you, for being my first time and all.”
“Well, you’ve certainly spent your first two weeks of not being a virgin pretty well,” you snorted.  “I had a good time.  We’ll call it even.”
“And… when I come back?” he pressed.  “Maybe we can, I dunno… maybe we can do it again.”
You grinned and tilted your head.  “Yeah, I like that idea.”
“But can I still call you?” he asked nervously.
“Of course!” you beamed.  “You’ll have to tell me if you get any good books assigned this semester.”
“Yeah, I doubt it,” he scoffed, but his smile lifted just a bit.
“I can come see you off, if you want,” you offered, “but it might make your mom suspect something…”
“You’re probably right,” he admitted, “I wish you weren’t, but you are— but I’ll call first thing when I get there!”
You smiled, and he gave you a hug before he left; and he promised to call again, though you’d believed him the first time.  And the next time you stayed up all night with Angus, it was on the phone— he snuck out of bed with a bag of quarters, and told you the phone was free so you wouldn’t feel bad, and talked to you about everything he could possibly think of.
Except, you didn’t quite make it all night: you fell asleep at some point, while he was talking about his English paper… not that he could blame you.
And for some reason, one that even he himself couldn’t quite explain, he kept feeding the phone quarters and listening to you sleep; he didn’t hang up until it was nearly morning and he had to sneak back into his room.
[series masterlist here]
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tinythebunni · 10 months
Text
bratty baby
Bratty Reader x ages up!Earth 42!Miles Morales
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Pink is readers texting/speaking
Purple is Miles texting/speaking
Miles is 18 in this one!
🐾🎀🧸🎀🐾
“Ion give a fuck what plans you and your lil friends had tonight, I said don’t go out so you’re not goin out.”
For the past two months, Miles has been getting more and more controlling over what you can and can’t do and telling you when you can go out with your friends. It’s been getting on your nerves and while it’s very, very attractive, it’s pissing you off. You barely see your friends anymore and you hate being inside.
“You’re not being fair Miles! I never get to see my friends anymore and I miss them and they miss me!” Even through text he could tell you were pouting right now. Miles could just imagine you kicking your feet on your bed.
“So what, I’m just not enough for you? I’m all you need amor, why do you wanna go see them so badly? You don’t need them.”
“Miles, you know that’s not at all what I’m saying, I’m just saying that I miss my friends and I wanna see them!”
He didn’t understand why you couldn’t get what he was trying to tell you. He just needed you to not go out at night, especially tonight. He couldn’t tell you about him being the Prowler, it’d break your hot pink heart.
“And what I am telling you is that you’re not going out tonight.”
“You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do Miles. I’m not your fucking kid!” You were getting angrier by the minute, every word, burned and angered you even more. Usually you’d just listen to him and stay inside like he asked, but tonight you wanted to see what would happen if you pushed his buttons just a little more…
“You talkin real crazy right now, mamí. Ima let it slide tho because I know you’re just mad and in ya feels. But don’t ever say sum crazy shit like that again, because I remember what happened last time you wanted to be bad and go against what I say. Why not run it back, whatchu say ma?”
You stayed silent, fuming and thinking. He was being so unfair and you had no idea why. You didn’t like being left in the dark and he knew this.
“Now this conversation is over, I got shit to do.”
“You right, this conversation is over. Fuck you Morales.”
You silenced your phone and with a shaky hand and butterflies in your stomach, you put your coat on and walked out your house.
After about 20 minutes you started to feel bad. You didn’t know why you were so mean and disobedient to him. You knew he only wanted what was best for you, all he ever did was spoil you and make you feel special. Even though you felt guilty, the fire in your stomach from the anticipation of what was to come made you feel even better.
You had just walked out the door of the club you and your friends went to and started your route home when you heard a noise behind you. You looked around but found nothing. You sped up your pace and started to walk towards your house when you heard it again, this time next to you.
When you looked over, you saw nothing but an empty street and a few lamps on. You continued your walk when something hit your head. You could feel yourself falling but didn’t feel the concrete below you. The last thing you saw being purple AF1’s.
🐾🎀🧸🎀🐾
When you woke up, you were back in your house, an ice pack under your head and blankets pulled up to your chin. You heard your tv on in your living room and quickly got up to investigate. When you opened the door, you were met with the sight of your boyfriend in your couch, sitting there like nothing had happened. His legs spread, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. The thing that caught your eye was the mechanic claw on his right hand.
When he noticed your presence he looked up at you and tilted his head. The glare on his face reignited that fire in your stomach. He stared at you, saying nothing at all as you shifted on your feet, nervous.
When you finally did decide to speak, your tone came out nervous and shaken and not at all like how you meant for it to sound.
“Why are you in my house Miles?”
“I can’t just come over when I wanna?”
“Answer my questions for once! Why are you in my house and why do you have on that same claw that the vigilante on the news wears?”
He knew you were a little daft but he didn’t expect this kind of idiocy.
“C’mon baby, put two and two together. I know you’re smarter than ya look.”
You knew the truth but you didn’t wanna believe it. You stayed silent, staring at him and fiddling with your hands. You were overwhelmed with fear and arousal, confusing you even more than ever.
Once he recognized the look of understanding on your face, he leaned back and curled his finger towards you in a demanding way.
“C’mere, we gotta talk.”
You sat down on the couch next to him, thighs touching and your gaze locked on the ground.
“Don’t be like that, look at me mamí”
When you looked at him, he could see the betrayal in your eyes. But he could also see the need and wanting. Feeling naked under his gaze, you looked back down at your floor,
“You’re him? You’re the guy from the news?” You voice quivered as you spoke, shaking from either fear or the amount of need and attraction you’re feeling right now. This man has killed people, he could kill you at any point! So why does that thought turn you on so much?
“Oh so now you wanna talk?” He asked, a lilt in his tone that let you know he was smirking without even having to look at him
“Don’t be mean Miles. This isn’t the time for jokes.”
“Yea I’m him, what’s it matter to you?” You knew that under the anger and accusation in his voice that he was feeling vulnerable. You crawled on his lap and laid your head on his shoulder and hugged him.
He froze at first, confused with the random affection, but slowly accepted the warmth. “I love you regardless of what you’re doing and who you’re killing.”
Miles almost wanted to scream at you to be afraid of him. He’s killed people. He’s hurt people, innocents even! Why weren’t you running?
You pulled back and reached up to cup his face and inched closer to him, looking down at his lips for permission. He closed the gap between you two and kissed you softly, like he missed you. It was warm and passionate, it wasn’t like this often. You didn’t often get this softness from him. But when you did, it made you feel like the most special girl in the world.
When you pulled back for air, you smiled, giddy with the thought of having your boyfriend back and not mad at you. But when he spoke to you, you knew you were in trouble.
“Don’t think I forgot what happened earlier. I was the one who brought you home, laid you down and tucked you in.” Miles looked down at you, smiling as if something was funny. You couldn’t move, the grip he had on your hips was tight, almost like a warning.
“Are you gonna hurt me?” You knew the answer, you always did. You knew what happened when you disobeyed him and what he says. You remembered what happened the last time.
Miles laughed, a loud hearty one, head tilted back and canines exposed. He chest shook with laughter and you shook in fear on his lap. When he looked down at you once more, he looked different, almost predatory.
“Oh chiquita, Ima do so much more.”
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storiumemporium · 6 months
Text
Astarion As a Father
Fem!Tav/Reader
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I FINALLY GOT A NEW KEYBOARD WITH FULLY FUNCTIONING KEYS LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
I elected to write about something that's been giving me brainworms for ages, because I'd been talking about it with someone on here awhile ago and it just infested me. Astarion finding out you're pregnant and how he handles fatherhood. (Or, in this case, doesn't at first.) This isn't my best work but I blame it on the fact that I didn't intend for it to be THIS FUCKING LONG okay 😭
But without further ado, daddy Astarion:
Finding out:
When it comes to children, I think Astarion hasn't put much thought into it beyond 'me!? ABSOLUTELY NOT—'
He has no illusions about his state of mind and his faculties, you see. Astarion knows that he's fucked up, he knows that he's a problem, and he's only entirely too confident that any child unfortunately put under his care would likely end up just as damaged as he is, were they to miraculously make it to adulthood. He's just not equipped for it.
And, frankly, Astarion isn't even aware he can have children... That's just, not something he ever thought to question. He's undead, is he not? That should take care of the...fertility question.
Shouldn't it?
Truth be told, Cazador never told him of the possibilities because it was never meant to be a possibility. Astarion was too malnourished, his victims too short lived for anything to ever have come of it. He was supposed to die a sacrifice, not live to carry his own bloodline (hah) onward.
Were you to ever ask him about it, even jokingly over dinner one eve, he'd be very firm in the fact that it's a terrible idea and he'd be entirely unequipped. He would even go so far as to say he's the worst choice out of all of your past companions.
"Me? No. Absolutely not. I'm sure whatever little devil you managed to cook up would be the most charming child Baldur's Gate has ever seen... But even that magical explosive that fancied himself a God would be better suited to fatherhood, darling. I am built for luxury and adventure, nothing else." All bookended by typical Astarion preening.
So when the day comes and you inform him of the little life growing in your womb?
Nope. Not happening, not even a chance of happening.
The denial is strong with this one.
And when I say denial, I mean that Astarion well and truly blots out what you've said from his mind, as if it simply didn't happen at all. You never had the conversation, you never dropped the revelation, there is no child, he is not becoming a father.
It's not a lack of want— though he doesn't realize that yet— it's true, blinding terror. Before it was just a joke, just something for him to brush off with commentary about how terribly he'd do as a parent, better the uncle than anything else. But now it's a reality and to accept what you've said is to accept that he might well and truly destroy a child. But not just any, yours.
The traumas Astarion possesses heap onto his shoulders and slough off plentiful enough to make new oceans of it. Now, not only is he just beginning to regain his own autonomy, he's supposedly being given responsibility over a brand new life?
(It would only make sense for Astarion in retrospect, that the life you willingly sacrificed to nourish and nurture him would in turn allow him to grow a new life within you. The fool had just been too blind to consider it: The way, fresh off your blood, he could pull back from the delicate column of your throat and you would find his cheeks and ears and chest flushed with the loveliest shade of pink, eyes wide and soft and alive. The way his entire body would warm, going from corpse frigid to something just beneath normal. The way his once-still heart would slowly beat again.
He'd even asked you once- curled together on a familiar silken bed, foreheads touching and your hands clasped together between your chests- if you knew what it felt like to be so, so hungry that all you could even think about was about badly you wanted to eat? How food sounded so good that the desire became crossed and instead felt even more painful and nauseating? How it consumed your ability to make rational decisions, denied you the capacity to control your emotions?
He'd told you then, voice tender and timid and weak, that he'd felt like that every single day for two whole centuries, until the night you'd willingly laid down on that cot and put your life in his hands.
It was so simple really, of course you granted him the strength to create life. It was you.)
And of course it comes to a head before there is any chance at recovery. Your body begins to show the changes, you begin to swell, and Astarion only grows more avoidant and flighty. Because now he can't simply wipe the idea from his mind and continue on as if the child doesn't exist, the proof is there every single time he looks at you. He makes it very clear to you that he will not be returning to your side without a confrontation, a very potentially ugly one at that.
And ugly it is, explosive. Astarion hasn't truly had the time to recover from his life under Cazador, and all of those protective traits he grew remain sharp as ever, returning to the surface as if they'd never truly gone away to begin with. He sneers and hisses, tries his best to dig in and hurt you enough to stop poking his tender wounds. Enough to push you away so he can lick his wounds back open. He'll go so far as to accuse you of infidelity, though he regrets the words the moment they leave his lips, it's easier for him to imagine that you simply grew tired of him, that you were weary and longed for the daylight. That you wanted someone who could hold you beneath the sun, unlike him.
How you respond to this is entirely up to you, but just shy of throwing something truly despicable back into his face, such as Cazador, Astarion will apologize... eventually. If you remain stalwart and patient, if you have it in you to recognize that he doesn't mean his words, that he's barbing you with intent, Astarion will break down in that very same argument, his angry and accusatory rant will dissolve into an admission of deep insecurity and deeper terror.
But if you respond with anger? Justifiable, and Astarion knows that even in the moment as it's happening, but emotions rule him far more than he'd ever care to admit, and he will dig in and relish the reaction he's managed to draw from you. He will bristle and bite back until suspicion and bitterness fully claims his heart, and he aborts the conversation to hide in the shadows.
Astarion will wait until nightfall, until his freedom calls for him. The one thing that always manages to clear his head, even when you prove to be the cause of his muddying. It's a reminder, every time he steps into the cool and dark of Baldur's Gate, that Cazador is dead and he is a free man. That he can go where he chooses and when he chooses to, and not only that no one can stop him, but that you wouldn't even want to stop him.
And that truth is always what brings Astarion home.
Under the distant lonely stars and that cold moon, he has to remember that time and again you have let him. You have accepted him, you have not fought him on anything shy of a horrible mistake he wanted to make in a moment of weakness and hysteria. You have accepted all his deepest and ugliest wounds and kissed them like they were freckles to pour affection on. You fought Cazador for him, you defended him from your own friends. You even- at times- tested your own morals for him.
You wouldn't betray him, and Astarion knows he can't betray you.
Astarion would return to you late, curling into bed at your side, his eyes would not meet you, and his apology would come in the form of a simple confession. "I am... afraid. I am afraid."
Astarion wouldn't blame you if you don't forgive him immediately for his transgressions, he was cruel and you were vulnerable. But even then you'll find that your love doesn't abandon you again. He accepts- however frightened- that what you've said is true and is coming, and he must accept it. Mind you, it won't be perfect and it won't be romantic. Astarion doesn't know the intricacies of handling a pregnant woman, he's hardly tactful beyond his well honed and flirtatious lines. He genuinely loves you, but he's going to come pre-equipped as father material.
You need something? He'll get it with minimal complaint (but never none, you'd sooner get him to dye his hair black than cease complaining for the sake of it), he won't begrudge you your mood swings though he might be inclined to poke fun at you ever so often. And he will panic when you burst into tears for seemingly no reason, and no- time doesn't make him adjust, he will panic just as much the thousandth time as the first.
However, if it's any consolation. The moment your child enters the world, Astarion is a changed man.
When You Go Into Labor:
Astarion did the honors of informing all of your friends about your pregnancy, once he came to terms with it. And believe me when I say it is extravagant. The stationery and grandiose script that Astarion wields when informing everyone that you were expecting better fits a wedding invitation than it does... well. Very elegantly explaining that Astarion had accidentally knocked you up.
You can tell from the splotchy stains addressed to you from Wyll and Karlach that one of them had been crying when penning the message, Astarion has coin on Wyll, and you on Karlach. Lae'zel never responds to begin with and you know for a fact the Githyanki's response will likely come in the form of her simply showing up one of these days, unprompted. Jaheira personally and rather frequently visits as well, she becomes a sort of bastion as nerves take you over, confident and calm as she is. Halsin's "letter" arrives late, rather because alongside his letter is several little carved animals for the child's room, and mentions of a quilt he intends to bring along when next he visits. Shadowheart's letter, while congratulatory, contains an air of interrogation strung all about it, all aimed with pinpoint precision at the man responsible for your pregnancy and dripping with sarcasm.
Gale's letter is seven pages long, comes with a violet hued wax stamp, and multiple different inks in the most lavish hand he can manage. You daresay he's competing with Astarion. However, surprisingly, Gale's seems to be the most... helpful of them all? It wasn't your intent, you simply wanted your dear friend to join you in celebration, and yet Gale goes on to inform you that upon reading the letter he'd become a madman in pursuit of knowledge on pregnancy and giving birth. He admits that this wasn't a particularly fruitful endeavor, as he's rather confident that you're not a gnoll, troll, cambion, succubus, or any other variety of strange creature with strange metrics of procreation. Still, Gale directs the latter portion of his letter to Astarion quite pointedly, informing him of bookshops around Baldur's Gate where he might have more success.
Astarion scoffs, but you don't miss the way his fingers twitch and flex.
After the hilarity of this is resolved and you just begin to believe that peace might return to your soft little home in the city, the first of your companions begin to arrive.
This continues on for the next week or so, without you ever knowing that this had been planned- and without knowing that Astarion had been the one to plan it. It's a furthering of his apology, of his guilt over the way he'd treated you. Again, Astarion has no illusions of the kind of man he is, and the fact he's not nurturing in the sort of ways that you need- but he's not completely stupid and he knows you're scared. So... bring the cavalry, darling.
Eventually your entire home has become a crash pad for all of your dearest friends, your family, and you only grow suspicious of Astarion's hand in this chaos because he's surprisingly amicable to having his peace so thoroughly disturbed by 'everyone and their mother'. Truly, he manages to bite his tongue some of the time about them trampling his fine rugs and scratching the plates. He even seems... wistful about it. As nostalgic as you openly are at seeing all of these beloved people under one roof again.
Nights are filled with raucous laughter, clattering utensils, a table so thoroughly overcrowded that people are playfully shouldering each other out of the way for a chance to get at their own food. And Astarion stays faithful at your side, his hand perpetually clasped gently around yours, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. Days are never spent alone, no matter what it is you need to do, someone (if not everyone) is following you along. And though Astarion feels his heart ache that he can't join you, he'll be glad to know you're safe.
Besides, your companions are likely all taking turns tormenting, testing, and relentlessly teasing him about what is to come. He has his own hands full. He's starting to regret being such a generous lover.
And then your water breaks in the dead of night.
Remember how I said Astarion was far from perfect? This would be one of those moments that it really shines.
Not that he's particularly terrible, no. He's not actively cruel toward you, and certainly not dismissive, it's somewhat the opposite. Halsin and Jaheira end up the ones helping you, the only two with some iota of understanding on what was happening and what to do with and for you. The others, less experienced in "mundane" medical situations will take up the second most important role.
Prevent Astarion from catastrophizing any more than he already has been.
Karlach has been the sole force capable of keeping Astarion away from the wine, typically bear hugging him away from your cellar while Wyll tries his best to talk your lover down from a total nervous breakdown. Of which he nearly has, several times. It's not even the sight of you, specifically. He's okay with being at your side and holding your hand, in trying his best to provide comforting words that aren't laced with sarcasm for once. But the sounds you make, that's what breaks him. Astarion isn't good at hearing you scream from the pain, he isn't good at the choked sobs or your heavy breaths. The way you sound like you're struggling against death. It makes him want to crawl out of his own skin, fight assailants that aren't there.
And for a few hours there, in the midst of your labors and your exhausted, pained little cries, Astarion isn't sure how he can love the child causing you this much suffering. It's not as if Astarion was an altruistic man on his best days, as if he were particularly reasonable when it came to you. You've both come to a mutual understanding that were something to happen to you, no morals would be involved in the things Astarion would do to rectify it.
And now, here you are, suffering. Astarion isn't supposed to do a thing about it? He's supposed to be- what, overjoyed by it? It infuriates him, he's truly prepared to have a grudge match with an infant.
Until, as the sun is starting to creep up on a brand new day, it's no longer your screams that meet the air, but another's entirely. Tiny but powerful, high pitched little squeals of fury and distress. And your laughter, disbelieving, soft, adoring already.
Astarion has a daughter.
I go with the HC that Astarion had eyes like honey once, and that his daughter takes after that, along with the delicate points of his ears mirrored in her own. She's small, so small, but healthy and already feisty, wiggling as best as her tiny body can whilst still too heavy for her to lift and move.
You're the first to hold her of course, and Astarion will be at his knees beside the two of you. The expression he wears is something you've seen maybe two or three other times in the entire time you've known him- moments when you know he expected everything to fall apart, moments where he couldn't believe that the world was so good.
It's then that you can breathe for the first time, and know that both of your darlings will be just fine.
Once he does hold her, he's not inclined to let her go. Even once you ask to have her back, he'll simply move you into his lap, so that he can hold you both. It's better that way anyhow, having both of his girls in his arms. And Astarion will repeat again and again how stunned he is, he just can't believe it. Cannot fathom any of it. I think he's the type to say that he's speechless and then spend the next five minutes doing nothing but talking. It's nervous rambling, but still, speechless is not the term I would use to describe him here.
Astarion With Your Baby:
Once your little darling is actually in your lives, you get to see how hilariously unorthodox Astarion is with children. Especially his own. Astarion doesn't baby-talk like you or the rest of your companions, he speaks in the same exact tones as he would a grown woman. In fact, for the first few days you're adjusting to a child in your life, you sometimes mistake Astarion as speaking with an unexpected guest, only to round the corner and find him lightheartedly chastising his own daughter for her poor nappy conduct as he wrinkles his nose and changes her diaper.
He's disgusted by that, by the way. Absolutely hates it, complains loudly about having to do it. But if you so much as try to stand to help he'll force you back down onto your chair or the couch, something something not useless something something already up, darling. It's as if Astarion is simply allergic to admitting that while it makes him nauseous, he wants to care for his daughter. He wants you to rest.
And yes, Astarion is the type of father that thinks all other children are hideous little fecal beasts and his daughter is the only gorgeous little angel in the entire world. Perfect, can do no wrong. He tells her as such too, in the same deadpan voice he always uses, wiggling and stretching her legs.
"You know, darling. You should count your blessings, you're the only child I've ever seen that doesn't look like some sort of hideous, deformed bean. I can't be surprised though, with as gorgeous as your parents are." And though he rolls his eyes, he's unable to contain the grin that shows his teeth when she coos and squeaks at the sound of his voice.
And yes. Astarion dresses up with his child.
The older she gets the more he does it, little matching outfits and ribbons. Nothing that she would choke on, were she to get her mitts on it. (You had to be the one to tell him no, at first. He did throw a little fit about it, just a small one).
But it's not all lighthearted, good or bad.
There are times where Astarion won't touch your daughter, won't be alone with her in the same room. He fears it, he'll eventually tell you. His... affliction came with it's dangers, always. But he's always trusted that you could defend yourself, and you're big enough that he can't just kill you between one blink and the next. The same can't be said of your darling girl. She's so small and so fragile that, were he to lose even the slightest grip of himself around her, it could cost her her life. No doubt it would traumatize her for life, regardless.
You watch it, too. The way it pinches his brows and makes him wipe his palms against his pants as if he were sweating. Nervous habits creeping up his throat and causing him to pace about like a caged animal. It's during these times that you have to bring your daughter to him. Gently place her in his arms and remind him that he's loved her from the moment he saw her. And where once he held trepidation and queasiness at the prospect of fatherhood, you can see him care so much about this little bundle that he looks sick from it. A vulnerability he can't mask.
And of course, there are times he nearly weeps for other reasons.
Like when she takes her first steps, and immediately tries to run for him.
And Astarion knows he should let her tumble, that it's good to let her fall and get back up again, but the moment her unsteady feet cause her to careen she's safe in his arms. Little kisses peppered against her giggly face. And he'll tuck away against her to try and get his bearings back, but she'll pat his cheeks and tug his ears- and you'll have to distract her with a toy while he hiccups and sniffles down his need to cry. He wasn't ready for her to grow so fast, gone is the tiny bundle that could fit perfectly in one arm, now she's walking. How long before she's dating? Gods, should he be preparing for betrothal requests!?
"I want to be mortal." He whispers to you, one night. She's tucked between your bodies, sound asleep and wiggling from time to time. This is one of the rare moments you and your love can speak to each other uninterrupted, in the tranquility of the dark hugging around you.
It's strange that he brings this up now, you'd spoken about it several times since the Elder Brain had been taken down... But in the past few years since your daughter had been born, all of that had fallen to the wayside. "What brings this to mind, Starling?"
Your hand comes to cup his throat, as you watch and feel him work as if he were swallowing a stone. "I don't want to outlive this."
It's hard to blink the tears from your eyes, understanding the implications.
Were he actually two hundred years old, Astarion wouldn't survive well past the existence of his sweet little family.
He'd been more melancholy the past few weeks, after realizing that your daughter was beginning to function on her own. She was walking, grabbing things, talking in rudimentary sentences. She was even beginning to call him pa.
He'd cried, at that.
"I'll forget," his voice draws you out from that brief reverie. The distress is palpable, but runs low like the tide before a storm. "I'll forget all of this. I don't want to know what I'll become, then."
And when you run your hands up into his hair, to scratch lovingly along his scalp, he doesn't hide the shiver or the way his face presses against your palm, cold and smooth on your skin.
"We'll find a way, Astarion. I haven't given up yet... We just- she's too young."
It's both a strain and a relief, to know that. To be reminded that your daughter is still so small, that he won't be losing her- or you- any time soon. There's still time.
Astarion With Your Teen:
Arguably this is the best time between your daughter and him. It's simultaneously a surprise and yet- not at all? He's more like her confidante and best friend than strictly a father. He isn't one for harsh curfews and strict ways of dress- rather, he's the one she comes to when she's made some sort of mistake. Or when she's angry about something.
In general, Astarion withholds judgement of her, for better or worse. The unintended consequence is that you might become more of her enemy than Astarion, because he's less inclined to punish for questionable behaviors.
It's not that he's afraid of angering her or dealing with push back- rather that Astarion's frame of reference for what constitutes a mistake is ah... rather broken. Even in the beginnings of your relationship with Astarion, the mistakes that would anger him constituted dropping an entire building on his head or... risking being turned into a Mindflayer to help some old lady find her cat.
Not feeling up cute boys in alleyways.
As a result you'll likely need to have a few conversations with him about not being so lenient on her, because she needs to have structure in how to behave. Stealing things is in fact, not okay! And Astarion will listen, but he's always going to be a bit more of a friend than anything else.
A total gossip with her, too. You'll catch them huddled around the dinner table at night, both with a glass of wine (this was an argument that Astarion ended up winning, she's allowed one glass a week, but that's all!) in hand shittalking a storm together. Astarion has become the Baldur's Gate equivalent of a PTA mom, he shows up as stylishly as he can and beefs with the parents of whichever children have upset his daughter the most. And then when they get home they just toss it back and forth together.
But I want to stress, just because he doesn't punish her doesn't mean he isn't protective of her. Astarion is more protective than you are.
Once she begins dating you'll find yourself home alone semi-frequently, because Astarion will play the supportive, loving father part when she leaves- and immediately follow her out into the dark. He's had centuries to know what dangers lurk around every corner, and foggy memories of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time before his nightmare began. He won't allow that to happen with his girl.
And it's funny, because Astarion will talk mad shit to himself while he does it. Logically he knows that she's with some teenage boy or girl, but it doesn't stop the petty, emotional side of him from rolling his eyes and sneering at the cheap one-liners and the dumb tactics that this would-be charmer utilizes. Really, taking her into dark alleys to get her to tuck into you? Going to a totally secret spot that Astarion has known about for at least a hundred and sixty years? Get real, kid.
And you have to try valiantly not to laugh when he comes home, huffing and puffing about it. Because you will hear every single petty thought he had the entire time, and you will know that he looks like a petulant child. It's very cute.
All in all, I think Astarion is a reckless, chaotic, petty father. And one that loves his child so, so much. To the point of ruin, to the point where suddenly staying in one place doesn't seem so bad, just so she can have friends. Helping people isn't the worst, just so she can know there are heroes in the world. Suddenly he's learning to bandage scrapes and kiss bruises, and having tears and snot on his clothes mean nothing compared to the grief of the one shedding them. He loves her in ways he didn't anticipate he ever could. Enough to know all of her ticks and secrets, to know when she's lying through her teeth and when she's being devastatingly obvious.
Learning to cook even when he can't eat, listening to her spin a story with a straight face and then- as she's stepping out the door- telling her to be careful with that boy and listening to her groan loudly as the door slams shut, a mischievous smile on his face.
Holding you and dancing you around, cradling you close with all the tenderness he has in the whole of his body and soul. Kissing you, calling you the mother of his child, thanking you for giving him something he didn't even know he'd wanted. A family.
Small and odd, but his.
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angldelight · 2 months
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cherry wine / max x fem!merc!reader
summary, you were the love his life. everybody seemed to know it, whether it be the way he looked at you or the way he held you on the podium, they knew it to be true.
warnings, lyrics are used, reader is fem, age gap (reader is younger by 3 years). possessiveness. a very cute fluffy set of hdcs of all the times max has loved you in his life. yes, I can do happy fics! marriage. allusions to violence / bruised knuckles.
quick note! I got a comment saying that the song was about domestic violence, to which I was very much so unaware of. Alas, I won’t be changing it as I used the lyrics different to the meaning that the song has. If this happens to be troublesome or bothers you then I recommend blocking me as I use songs for the fact I like the songs - not for their meanings.
he loved you in January, when he kissed you underneath the fireworks at lando’s party.
he loved you when you pushed him into his driver’s room away from the cameras so you could feel his skin on your own.
he loved you in February when you’d have a glossy look in your eyes when you spoke about the new car.
he loved you when he’d hold you to his chest, as you cried because you missed winning so badly.
he loved you when you’d cry at the way he punched that one interviewer in March.
oh mama, don’t fuss over me. the way you’d kiss his bruised knuckles, he loved you.
he loved you in April as you danced under the burning sun, a new win in the record books for you.
it’s a crime that she’s not around most of the time. he had told his teammate, checo. he’d shake his head and slap his teammate on the shoulder. young and in love, he’d call max.
his loved blossomed into something more in May, the way stress would drag you down, eyes blooming into fear struck orbs when you had a crash.
he still remember’s screaming at his team over the radio as they only shook their heads. he loved you then.
he was a fool for you in June, walking to your home to give you fresh flowers. his eyes full of love.
he still remembers the way you kissed him so sweetly, mouth against his own.
in July, he seemed to hold you against him all the time, he kissed you on the sea.
you spent time with him on his yacht, you made love under the burning hot sun, you kissed in the cold sea.
he seemed to wander for you in August, his season not as easy as the last — you struggled to find the words to make him feel better. he told you not to fuss over him.
in September you claimed manier race wins, one you needed, one you loved, one you wanted. he loved the way you laughed under the sun.
in October he loved the way you mewled under him, body sweating and panting, the way you shivered with him as it rained every now and then.
in November he asked you to marry him. you told him he was a fool and he smiled when you said yes.
in December you pushed him under the table at a party, your lips on his was like fireworks. they called you his younger love, he kissed the tears away as they tried to make you feel shame.
he loved you then, he loved you now.
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i’ll drive, i’ll drive all night - part two
Katie McCabe x reader McCabe
(teen younger sister)
part 1 part 3
Trigger warnings: a lot of talk about sexual assault and self blame,references to self harm and minor reference to suicidal thoughts, overall just poor mental health
AN: Not the best writing, it’s more of just me trying to put my own feelings and experiences into words. Also i have dyslexia so spelling/grammar isn’t the best sorry 😅
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You wish you never went out that night, most nights you stay awake wondering what would life be like if you didn’t go out if you had just stayed home to watch katie play for ireland on tv like you had planned, if you had accepted your brothers offer to hang out for the day, if you hadn’t needed to go to the bathroom that night, if you had worn something less ‘sluttier’, if you didn’t put on so much makeup.
You blamed yourself, how could you have been so careless, you know the risks of going to parties at your age with people who your barley knew nor trusted, if you had followed your mams rules it wouldn’t have happened, if you weren’t so stupid and ignorant you’d never had been in that position. You shouldn’t have gone up the stairs with him trusting that he was just showing you to the bathroom, you knew better then that you should have known better.
Even now as your sat cuddling katie your head hidden away in her arms, tears streaming down your face, you can feel him, sense him, you know your being dramatic and it was your fault you knew this but it doesn’t make the feelings any better, you pull apart from Katie suddenly feeling trapped, the air feeling quite thick making it even harder to breathe then it already had been, you were panicking now it felt like the world was caving in in you, like you was suffocating as though your lungs were caving in.
“bug can you hear me? sweetheart i need you to take a deep breathe in for me, come on breathe with me, watch my chest y/n”.
Following katie’s words you watch as her chest rises up and down slowly, you notice her exaggerated breathes as she tries to get you to follow her breathing pattern, to try and get your breathing back to a healthy state, eventually after watching her chest for a few more minutes and having katie whispering soft words to you, stroking your forehead as she does so you, you can feel your breathing returning back to normal.
“We don’t need to speak tonight sweetheart, how about you go up to the spare room and just get some sleep, we can talk tomorrow alright?”
You agree instantly no longer wanting to talk to katie about what was happening, you weren’t to sure that you’d even be able to explain to her what was going on in your mind, although your fairly certain she just about understood what you were referring to before you broke down.
“go upstairs kiddo, i’ll be up in two minutes just need to lock the house up alright and then i’ll get you some clothes to get changed into”
Slowly you make your way upstairs, going into the bathroom to your face out, washing away any evidence that 10 minutes you’d been crying into your older sisters arms.
You look briefly in the shower, spotting the pink razer on the shelf, you don’t use it in the way you’ve been using razors recently instead you just stare at it, you want to use it so badly, so badly it almost hurts, you wanted to get away for a while, for everything to just go numb for a least a couple minutes
“Y/n can i come in”
The sound of Katie’s voice makes you jump dropping the razor into the sink as you do so. You’d been so close, so close to using it, it scared you how easy it was for you to find things to hurt yourself, but also how easily it was for you to do it, without having a care in the world you could mark your skin permanently and that scared you in fact it horrified you, how easy it was for you to lose control.
Hearing the door click open, you turn around from facing the mirror looking at katie who was now stood in the bathrooms door way, leaning against the frame, she looked like she’d been crying, because of you, your the reason she’s upset you realise.
“y/n what are you doing?”
hesitant to answer you opt to look around the bathroom, noticing how it’s changed since you’d last been here, the once green walls were painted white and you noticed a newly added bath.
You want to avoid her worried expressions, the way she spots the razor in the sink and not on the shelf where she could’ve sworn it was left, your shaking hands.
“nothing sorry”
Katie’s looks up at the ceiling taking a deep breath as she does so before focusing her attention back on you
“what were you doing with that”
she nods to the razor in the sink, keeping her eyes on you.
“nothing”
Katie rolls her eyes at you, shaking her head.
“you and i both know what you were going to do, i’m not stupid y/n”.
Katie’s reply stumped you, not entirely sure if she wanted you to just say it outright or just acknowledge that yes you wanted to hurt yourself or if that was even what her assumption was.
“Okay you don’t want to speak tonight i get it, you���ve had a tough day, we’ll speak tomorrow alright bug? i’m so proud of you for starting to speak to me earlier though, i love you goodnight y/n, remember im only next door and if you need me or you need anything at all don’t hesitate to knock alright?”
she lets you know breaking the silence, her words hang in the air as she leaves the bathroom, although not before taking the razor with her.
~~~
Getting under the covers in Katie’s spare bedroom, you can hear her soft mumbling on the phone outside your room, you think she’s talking to your mam about you, what she saw in the bathroom and the mess of what happened in her living room.
After awhile you heard katie end the call, you listened as the bathroom door opened and shut, as she turned all the upstairs lights off, as she paused outside your door for a few seconds and then eventually you heard the bedroom door click shut. The house going still and silent.
Once upon time the dark had scared you, when you were still little and innocent, when you thought that monsters lived under your bed so you needed your da to scare them away every night before bed, when your mam would tuck you up in bed in your pink dotted pyjamas and read you stories before giving you a kiss goodnight, turning your night lamp on and closing your door, you’d cry out for your mam or da to come and take you to their bed. Darkness scared you then, not anymore though instead it became something you craved, you lived for when everyone went to sleep and the house went dark and quiet.
It was the only time when you could truly think and feel every emotion of the day, when no one was there to judge you, sometimes you wish you could lay in the dark forever and never get up, sometimes you wish death would take you on your sleep, you wished that maybe this would be the last time you closed eyes, othertimes you remember your still a teenagers and life won’t be like this forever.
Laying in katie’s spare bed starring up at the ceiling you couldn’t sleep, you lay awake in the dark replaying the events of that night over and over again, it was like this every single night, you’d replay your every action that night, what drinks you had, who you had been with, how you could’ve prevented it from happening and it always circled back to that same point you shouldn’t have gone upstairs, you wish you could take it back, wish that you did everything differently, you wish so desperately you were that carefree kid with pig tails running circles around your siblings giggling without a care in the word.
~~~
The next morning was weird, you’d hadn’t slept at all, this had become a common occurrence, in fact you wasn’t sure when the last you had actually slept was, around 8am Katie popped her head round the door expecting you to still be sleeping having not been awake long herself.
Looking up she frowns at you “have you actually been to sleep y/n?” she questions her frown becoming more evident.
you shake your head “no i can’t sleep sorry” you mumble back at her, avoiding her gaze.
Katie so desperately wanted to know what was going on with you, she wants to know why you can’t sleep, why your getting into trouble constantly, and she needed more clarity on what you were trying to tell her last night, she already had an inkling to what you meant and it broke her heart, knowing that someone had stripped her baby’s sister innocence away from filled her with a kind of rage she’s never experienced, how could someone do that to her? her carefree, loving, kind, beautiful sister.
“i came in to let you know that cait has practice today but i’m gonna stay home with you alright? we can have an open and honest conversation okay?” she says smiling up at you “and you don’t ever need to say sorry for struggling, i love you”.
You nod in agreement getting out of bed as you do so, following katie down the stairs.
walking down the stairs you wonder what the conversation will be like later, what she’s going to say to you, what her reaction will be to you basically ruining your life, for spilt second you wonder if she’ll be angry at you, yesterday was the first time you’ve ever seen her anger directed at you, she never shouted at you, not even when she was a moody teenager wanting to be alone she had always made time for you, played with you when the others said no, ma used to tease her for it “y/ns got you wrapped round her finger Katie” she’d say as you convinced her to play trains downstairs, you had been as close as siblings could be, even when she left and moved to london you were still close, visiting as much as you could and going to as many games as school allowed, you feel bad realising you’d never given any explanation to your older sister, you just stopped calling, stopped visiting, she hadn’t done anything wrong you just didn’t want to talk knowing that she’d having you poring your little heart out in minutes of hearing her voice.
“Morning y/n” caitlin shouts enthusiastically startling you “would you like some toast? or cereal?”
“No thanks i’m not that hungry sorry”
this causes both caitlin and katie to frown, “you didn’t have dinner last night y/n and you probably didn’t have lunch either” Katie says butting in, you nod in agreement “i didn’t but i’m just really not hungry kats” you tell her sincerely not wanting to keep lying to her face.
“okay but your having something soon and i will not be taking no for an answer” she lets you know giving you a pointed look.
~~~
You and Katie had had a pretty chill morning, neither of you yet to address the talk that was supposed to be happening. Katie had made you come with her to drop caitlin off at training stopping at Starbucks on the way home, despite the chill morning your nerves were at an all time high waiting for katie to start the questions, you knew you weren’t going to get away with lies and so you’d gone through exactly what you wanted to say and how you wanted to say it.
it was around 12 when katie paused the tv show you’d been watching and came over to sit next to you calling coopurr over in hopes to give some comfort.
“Ma wants you to come live me” she lets out looking at your face for some kind of reaction, she had been expecting you to be angry, taking you away from your home, your friends.
Your not really sure what to say, you think moving away could help you, a fresh new start where no one knows you, you wonder if your ma was washing her hands of you, no longer wanting to be associated with the failure of daughter she now had, you wouldn’t blame her if that was the case however the more rational side of you realised your mam didn’t have a bad bone in her body and if she thought it would help you then you’d do it.
Slowly nodding your head you agree “i think a new start would help me” you tell
her honestly.
Katie hasn’t prepared for this answer, she thought you’d storm out, start shouting at her, she hadnt expected you to agree instantly with zero arguments.
The pair of you sit in silence for a few minutes, you were unsure how to approach the conversation that needed to be had and Katie didn’t really know what to say, how to get you to open up to her”
“Talk to me y/n”
You don’t want to talk, but parts of you know that you’d probably feel better if you did, it was something your ma had rammed into you from an early age, talking always helps.
“i don’t know what to talk about”
For once your being genuine , to much had happened since you’d last saw Katie, to many things were running round your mind that it was hard to pick one to talk about.
“How about we talk about the party”
you wonder if she knew what had happened, you thought it was fairly obvious from what you said the night before, even so you agree”
“he-h-he touched me” you say barley above a whisper “i didn’t want him to but he did and it’s all my fault im so sorry please don’t hate me” you sob out, fresh tears running down your face for what feels like the tenth time since you’ve been in London.
Katie’s wraps you up in a hug as your tears continue to fall, everything that had happened coming back to you, everything you’d have built up coming out in tears streaming down your face.
The look on katie’s face was heartbreaking she already knew what you meant from what you said last night, she wasn’t naive but hearing you say it aloud and blame yourself, apologising to her, killed her, knowing how long you’d kept it in blaming yourself what happened. How could someone do that to her baby sister, in her mind her sister was still that sweet little 8 year old, how could anyone do that to her, she was shattered, that night she had run through all the possibilities of what you could’ve meant hoping praying to god that you hadn’t meant that, she was furious, furious with the boy, furious with herself for not spotting the signs, furious at the universe for putting her sweet baby sister through this.
“Thank you for trusting and telling me baby, it wasn’t your fault, it will never be your fault you didn’t ask for it, what you were wearing or what you drank or how you behaved wasn’t asking for it, you were just trying to have fun at a party with your friends, nobody deserves or is ever at fault for being taken advantaged of, it wasn’t your fault y/n.
You want to believe her, you really want to believe that it wasn’t your fault but you just couldn’t it was like your brain was conditioned to believe that everything that ever went wrong in your life was your fault.
You think Katie gets at what you’re thinking.
“if someone came to you and told you what you told me, would you blame them? would you say it was all their fault”
This leaves you feeling stumped because you know for a fact you wouldn’t, you’d do everything in your power to make them know it wasn’t their fault, to help them just like katie is doing now.
You just shake your head unsure of what to really say.
“Exactly, look at me y/n you were 15 years old, trying to have fun on Tuesday evening like most teenagers do, it wasn’t your fault”.
For the first time since it happened you realised that maybe you weren’t at fault, you started to believe your older sister’s words because yes you had done some some things you shouldn’t have done but you didn’t deserve that.
Katie seemed to have realised that in the last minute or so you’d relaxed more, there were no longer tears running down your cheeks nor were you shaking as much.
“How about you get some sleep y/n, i can tell your tired just close your eyes baby, i’m so proud of you for telling me y/n”
Closing your eyes move over to her side resting your head on her lap.
“will you stay?” you whisper up to her, she smiles and agrees.
“i love you y/n so much my baby sister”
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bunnylovesani · 4 months
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A Rough Ride
Summary: Getting fucked in Anakin’s car. That’s about it.
Content Warnings: MDNI, major daddy issues/kink, p in v sex, degradation, mean dom/sub dynamic, spanking, fingering, slapping, cum play, facial, aftercare
WC: 1.8k
Hearing critical comments about your controversial relationship with a man 20 years your senior was nothing you weren’t used to. After several months, you’d acclimated to the jokes about how you must have daddy issues and how he must be a creep; the bottom line was that you loved Anakin and he loved you, the rest was just noise and it didn’t bother you in the slightest.
It was a whirlwind romance- a glance shared across a late-night bar led to a steamy night in a dirty motel room which led to the following 6 months of sex-fuelled fun. Guys your age just didn’t know how to fuck the way you needed to be fucked- you needed a man of experience, a man of skill.
That’s how you ended up bent over the backseat of his Ferrari, face pressed firmly against the leather interior while he roughly pounded into your cunt. You couldn’t muster up anything besides the occasional cry of “Harder daddy, please!” and “Mm, ’s so good…” and he chuckled dryly at the way you fell apart on his cock.
“Harder baby? You sure? I don’t wanna ruin this pretty pussy.” He hardened his grip on your hips, self-control slipping.
“Yesyesyes- please daddy ruin me.” You babbled, drool leaking down the side of your face and ruining your makeup.
“Alright darling, you got it.” He muttered under his breath, sloppy thrusts getting rougher and faster. “You’re such a daddy’s girl, aren’t you baby?”
You nod and let out a little “mhmm!”, chewing your bottom lip raw.
“Daddy’s good girl…y’know what happens to good girls?” He asks you, smacking the palm of his hand against your ass cheek. “Good girls get to cum.”
You whine and claw at the upholstery, knot in your tummy growing.
“Stop whining or I’ll give you something to whine about.” He growls and you look back at him in confusion, pretty doe eyes staring pitifully up at him.
“Good girls also shut up and take it.” He lifts his hips and buries his cock to the hilt, abdomen firmly smacking against you. You scream at the extra inches he’s given you and his movements come to a standstill; he usually restrains himself because he knows you can’t take his whole cock but he must be in a brutal mood today.
“I’m gonna start moving now, and if you can take it- I’ll let you cum. If you can’t, you’re gonna get on your knees instead. Understood?”
You nod, tears pricking at your eyes. You wanted to cum so badly but you weren’t sure if you could take such a rough pounding with his full length.
Slowly, he moves his hips back before pressing into you, tip kissing your cervix. You bite your fist and bury your forehead into the seat, trying so hard to be a good girl and not make a sound but after almost an hour of relentless pummeling, you were at the end of your rope.
“Good, stay nice and quiet f’me.” He grumbles as he begins to go harder, near-silent squeaks escaping your wet lips. You begin to slide your way out of his grip, distancing yourself away just a little to ease the pressure.
“Come back here.” He grabs your hips and impales you right back onto his dick with a stubborn grunt. Teeth marks form on your clenched fist and a wet spot pools on the back seat, spit connected between the puddle and your parted mouth. The feeling of him so deep in your guts is deliciously agonising and you can’t help but to give in and let him fuck you like you’re his sex toy. Once you stop fighting the intrusion, pleasure comes over you in intense waves, beads of sweat trickling down your back as you tremble. Squeaks of discomfort are replaced with quietly guilty moans of pleasure and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Anakin.
“Listen to me, you little slut.” He rakes his hand up the back of your head, firmly gripping your hair and roughly bringing you up to him. “You better not cum yet.” Your brows upturn and eyes glisten in a pleading countenance. “If you do, there will be consequences.” He warns you with a mischievous smirk, almost hoping you disobey him so he can have fun making you regret it.
You want to listen to him with every fibre of your being but you have no control over your own body when he’s fucking you like this. With an aggressive push, you’re thrown back onto the seat and you grip the side of it so hard you leave scratches all over the leather. Scrunching your face up, you feel yourself failing- disobeying his order as you’re pushed over the edge to your release. You try to stay still hoping he won’t notice but the way you clench around his cock, making it glisten with your creamy arousal is a dead giveaway.
“Oh now you’ve done it.” He scowls and pulls out suddenly, making you tense up in anticipation of your punishment. “Get on your knees.”
You uncurl out of the ball you’ve scrunched yourself into and follow his command, positioning yourself between his legs.
“I’m gonna cum all over that pretty whore face of yours.” He grabs the base of his dick and strokes himself, maintaining eye contact as he jerks off to the image of your angelic face.
You stick your tongue out as he comes undone, hot cum squirting out and landing all over your mouth and cheeks. You giggle happily as he rubs his spent cock around, letting you lick up the creamy mess. He comes closer and grabs you by the cheeks with one hand, rubbing his cum all over them before smacking you suddenly with an open palm.
“You like getting slapped around by a man twice your age?” He hits you again, firmly enough to leave your cheeks reddened but not so hard that it stings. He saves that for when you’re really bad.
Nodding, you beam with glee as you raise yourself off your knees, wanting to cuddle up to him like you usually do once you’re done but he stops you.
“Oh no, sweetheart. That wasn’t your punishment. Bend over my lap.” He tucks himself into his trousers and zips them back up before leaning back to allow you to take your position. Somewhat confused, you follow his lead and prop yourself over his legs, ass perched up in the air. His warm calloused hand glides over your ass and you hum contentedly, relishing in his touch. Abruptly, a loud smack is heard and your cheeks jiggle with the tremor of his strike.
“A-am I getting spanked, Ani?” You choke out in shock.
“Yes, you are baby. This is what happens when you misbehave. Daddy has to discipline you.” He calmly explains as he slaps you again, a little harder this time. You feel his hand trailing down to your pussy, fingers rubbing against the slit before slipping down to your throbbing clit. You’re so sensitive that you start squirming in his lap- a move he quickly puts an end to when his big-knuckled hand presses harshly against your back- pinning you down like you were an unruly kitten.
He leans over until his face is hovering above your ass before spitting a thick glob of saliva over your pussy, the drool seeping down to your hole. He groans as he smears it around before pushing two fingers into your throbbing hole, already sore from being fucked raw.
“Aniii…” You moan, burying your face into your hands as a sudden wave of shyness comes over you.
“What’s the matter, baby? You don’t like daddy makin’ you feel good?” He coos as he fucks you with his fingers, lewd squelching sounds filling the steamy car. “What’s wrong, my angel?”
“N-nothin’ daddy, it’s just- mm- too much!” You pant, head swirling.
“You can take it baby, you’re my big strong girl, aren’t you?” He murmurs softly and you huff breathily. Another slap lands on your rosy cheeks as he curls his fingers deeper, “Aren’t you?”
“Yes, daddy, yes- I can take it!” You sniffle, trying to compose yourself but the way he’s stretching you out coupled with the salty taste of his cum on your tongue has your concentration in tatters.
“Aw, you just need someone to take care of you, don’t you baby?” You sob out “mhmm!” in response and feel another orgasm coming on- he’d made you cum so many times you’d lost count.
“Daddy’s gonna take care of his baby.” He rubs the small of your back comfortingly while his fingers plunge in and out of you, pushing you over the edge into your release. You whine and wail as your thighs shake and he shushes you soothingly until you calm down- limp body collapsed over his lap.
“C’mere baby.” He opens his arms and you jump into them, wrapping your arms urgently around his neck.
“Woah darling, you okay?” He places his broad hand on the back of your head, tucking you into his warm chest.
“Y-yeah. I’m just- ugh!” You choke out frustratedly, tears streaming down your face from how overwhelmed you felt.
“Shh baby, shh- I know.” He coddles you and you let yourself sob into him. He made you feel such strong emotions you didn’t know how to handle them- so you often curled up into his lap and unravelled after a particularly intense round.
“How does some hot chocolate, your favourite movie and a fort of blankies and plushies sound?” He lightly nudged his nose against yours and you perked up instantly.
“Sounds amazing, Ani.” Your heart warmed with how he cared for you, it was unlike anything you’d ever had before.
“We just need to get through this first.” He rubs any remnants of cum off your face with his sleeve, smoothing your frizzy hair down with his other hand. “We kinda chose an inopportune moment for this…”
You poke your head up and remember your surroundings- you’re parked in a dark alley around the corner from Anakin’s house. His friends and family had gathered for a Christmas dinner being hosted at his place and it was meant to be your first time meeting most of them. Glancing into the front view mirror, you gasped at the sight: your makeup was utterly ruined- mascara smudged, lipstick smeared and your hair looked like you’d been dragged through a bush.
“Ani! How ‘m I supposed to meet them like this?” You mewled, wanting desperately to make a good first impression considering the controversy and disapproval that surrounded your relationship.
“I don’t know baby, you should’ve thought about that before you started acting like a little brat.” He shrugs, opening the car door and stepping into the crisp winter air. “You coming?” He held his hand out with a self-satisfied smirk, eager to show off the mess he’d made of you.
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@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall @bby-imasociopath @slvttedoutmars @emmalandry
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rmsrkive · 3 months
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in the beginning | my strange addiction — bts
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summary: in which bts find themselves completely and utterly infatuated with one of the members of hybe’s newest girl group, le sserafim, developing a strange and unhealthy addiction to their junior
warnings: age gap (3-8 year age gap), oc is of consenting and legal age, yandere bts, unhealthy, possessive, and obsessive behavior, violence, smut, idol au
rating: 18+ (minors dni)
pairings: ot7 x fem reader
a/n: the first oneshot of my strange addiction is finally here! it is a bit short but i want this oneshot to serve as a foundation for the longer ones that are to come in the future (and i also wanted to upload something for you guys asap). i don't know much about how idol evaluations go so i quite literally pulled this out of my ass so please forgive me if it sounds stupid! hope you enjoy and thank you for being patient with me :)
word count: 2115
taglist: @thepixienamednyxie @inlovewithallmusic @afiaaaa19 @moon33214 @minchedchilli @severuslovebot @jjkluver7 @itznyelle @taekritimin123 @notvantaes @jewishmommy @weeeeeekly @0rubyrose0 @thechillmage @cuntessaiii @earth2joon @huni7857 @yukichan67 @coralmusicblaze @ts-1030 @mochisdayone @devilzliaison @hollyschit
masterlist
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"Ten minutes until evaluations start. All of you should start heading over to the staff so that they can hook you up to your microphones and test whether or not they are working properly. The makeup artists will also be there for any finishing touches on your makeup so don't worry about that. The hairstylists will join too so your first priority is to get mic'd up as soon as possible."
Hyeongeun looked visibly distressed as he passed by you and the rest of the Le Sserafim members, frazzled as he ensured that the evaluation would flow smoothly. The seven of you watched in amusement before heading over to the sound team, each receiving your own microphone. The hairstylists and makeup artists surrounded you, fussing over your makeup and hair before deeming that there was nothing more they could do.
"Less is better, right?" Naeun asked, dusting your face with a bit more setting powder. She had been spiraling for the past few minutes as she touched up your makeup, worried that it was the wrong look for the occasion. Her panic was causing you to slowly panic as well. “Well, they'll be looking at your dancing and singing abilities rather than my makeup skills so there's nothing for me to worry about."
"Thank you for the reminder." You huffed.
The evaluations before debuting came up much closer than you anticipated. You had been so focused on recording music, learning the choreography, and preparing content for Le Sserafim's YouTube channel that the days flew without you noticing. Now you were preparing for evaluations that would take place over the next week with three different groups from HYBE. Hyeongeun informed you and the other members that Tomorrow by Together, Seventeen, and Fromis_9 would be evaluating the group to provide feedback.
"I can't believe this is happening." Yunjin exhaled shakily, nervous yet excited to finally perform in front of an official group of people. "It was like I got kicked off of Produce 48 yesterday. Dreams can come true." She sighed dreamily.
"How inspiring." You deadpanned.
She sent you a wink before the two of you followed Sakura and Chaewon to the open space that was created specifically for performances to take place. You knew several HYBE artists used the space to record live performances for their fans and that it was even used to host events. It was reserved for Le Sserafim for the next week which made the evaluations all the more official.
"I can't believe we're performing in front of TXT sunbaenim." Eunchae shared her disbelief, her doe eyes growing even larger. "They're gonna be across the room from us and watch us perform. That's terrifying."
Garam patted her shoulder. "They're probably the politest idols we have under HYBE. I don't think they'll be harsh and think badly of us. Imagine we had BTS sunbaenim evaluating us instead—"
Her words died out as she stopped walking, causing you to bump into her. You looked up to see why she stopped, only to notice what she was staring at. Or more precisely, who she was staring at. A quiet gasp escaped your lips as you stared at BTS, who were talking amongst each other and had yet to notice the seven of you standing in front of them. While all of you were standing in their presence with your mouths opening and closing like fish out of water, they all shared a laugh over a joke Jungkook made.
"What the hell are they doing here?" You whispered, a new wave of horror washing over you.
"I have no idea but Hyeongeun-nim better have a good reason as to why he didn't inform us that BTS sunbaenim are the ones evaluating us today." Chaewon gritted through her teeth.
"Sorry for not letting you girls know earlier." Hyeongeun approached you guys from behind, startling Kazhua. "I was informed earlier this morning that Seventeen won't be able to make it to your evaluations this week but Namjoon-ssi graciously offered to fill in with the Bangtan members instead. They only have time today for the entirety this week so you guys will see TXT on Wednesday instead."
What more could the seven of you do besides nod your heads and prepare to perform? The situation was unideal but completely out of everybody's control so none of you could be mad at Hyeongeun for not telling you beforehand. You wondered what could've possibly conflicted with Seventeen's schedule for them to pull out at the last minute, considering that the evaluations had been scheduled since the end of last year. You were surprised that BTS even had a free day where they could cram in an evaluation considering how much they had scheduled in a regular work week.
"We'll start off with Chaewon introducing the group and then we'll go straight into Fearless, alright? Good luck, girls."
Without another word, Hyeongeun patted Chaewon on the shoulder before immediately moving over to the BTS members, greeting them loudly and joyfully. You shared a look with the girls, in disbelief with how nonchalant he was being about the unexpected situation. You supposed he was less nervous since he wasn’t the one who was going to be scrutinized by the biggest boy group in the world. It was weird, however, considering he was a nervous mess ten minutes ago. Perhaps he was putting up a facade in front of the BTS members.
“We’ll introduce ourselves,” Chaewon glanced at everybody to ensure each person was prepared. “2,3,”
“Hello, we are Le Sserafim.”
The Bangtan members clapped and cheered loudly as you bowed, each of them sporting a wide grin. Hoseok in particular was excited, shouting each of your names before Seokjin forced him to be quiet. How he knew who any of you were was beyond you but you appreciated that he made the effort to learn your names nonetheless.
Maybe you were tooting your own horn and possibly jinxing what would be said during the evaluation, but you thought that you and the rest of the girls performed flawlessly. It was the first time any of you were practicing in front of people who didn’t consist of your usual team and quite frankly, you convinced yourself that there would be some mistakes from the nerves of performing in front of other idols. Even if your opinion didn’t matter, the reaction of the members seemed rather positive.
"That was a wonderful job," Namjoon began, sitting up straight. "The hard work all of you have been putting in really showed through this performance. The synchronization of your moves was impressive because of how difficult it is for seven people to move simultaneously in time with the music, yet all of you did it with ease. The seven of you work like a well-oiled machine and I strongly believe Source Music did a wonderful job putting this group together. However, there are still some things to work on as a group and individually which we'll all address. We'll start with individual feedback and since there are seven of us and seven of you, each of us focused a bit more on only one of you. We'll start with Chaewon-ssi and Sakura-ssi since they are the oldest and have the only experience as idols. From there it'll be age order if that's alright."
Hoseok and Jungkook were the first to provide their feedback, which sent immense relief. The knowledge of either of them focusing closely on you, particularly Hoseok, made you want to pass out. Sakura was considerably paler than she was earlier once he started speaking but by the end of his feedback, she was grinning ear to ear.
"Y/N-ssi, I was very impressed with how well you performed." Jimin smiled. "I can tell that your background as a former Olympic gymnast who specialized in the floor routines helped you become a fantastic performer. You know how to sing, dance, and manage your facial expressions at the same time which is difficult yet impressive. The one thing I do have to say is that I noticed during certain parts of the choreography, you remained rather stoic and lost your expressive aura. I believe it's because those were the more difficult parts of the choreography so it would be great if you practiced maintaining the appropriate expressions and emotions throughout the song. Also, remember to sing with confidence. It's easier said than done considering it's your first time performing in front of people who are not part of your immediate team but you did sound a bit flat in some areas. Once you gain confidence and are used to being on the stage, you'll sound wonderful." He flashed a smile at you which you weakly returned, all of the tension in your shoulders disappearing. He made a few more remarks before moving onto Yunjin's evaluation, where Seokjin immediately took over.
Namjoon and Yoongi gave final criticisms for the group overall before you were saying your goodbyes. You thanked them for coming alongside the other members before everybody was dismissed to leave. Though performing in front of BTS first was nerve-wracking, you had to admit that it was best to begin with them and then move onto TXT. You were able to get the worst of your nerves out of the way and felt better about the other evaluations since you knew what to work on.
"Y/N-ssi?"
You looked up from your bag to be met with the sight of Jimin hovering over you. Flustered, you immediately stood up and bowed to him. "Oh, hello! I'm sorry, I was packing my bag."
"No worries," He shook his head. Much to your surprise, Jimin seemed a bit nervous. He fiddled with his thumbs, eyes flitting back and forth before they finally met yours. "I wanted to apologize if I was too harsh when providing you feedback. I'm afraid I was too blunt and I hope I didn't come off as rude or anything like that."
Your mouth fell open at his apology, not expecting for him to apologize for doing his job. You hastily shook your head, spewing out nos and reassuring him not to worry. "It's okay! I don't think you were harsh at all and even if you were, you had every right to be since you're giving me feedback on what to improve. Thank you for taking the time to evaluate me and the rest of my group, it's an honor and we appreciate it a lot."
The smile on Jimin's face appeared again as he sighed in relief. "That's good to hear. I was worried that I came off too strong, especially to someone who was undergoing an evaluation for the first time. I hope that I was of some help."
"Yes, you definitely were. Thank you again."
"Of course, Y/N-ssi. I'll see you around HYBE in the future. Good luck on your debut."
"Thank you."
Both of you bowed to each other before Jimin joined the rest of the BTS members, who were waiting for him by the exit. You resumed packing your bag, unable to fight the giddy smile that was forming across your face. You couldn't believe that the Park Jimin approached you first and had a conversation with you. Never in your dreams did you think you would be debuting under the same company as BTS nor did you ever think you would be meeting any of them. To be fair, you also never considered you would abandon your career of being a professional gymnast to sing and dance for a living instead.
Yunjin immediately rushed over to you with Eunchae in tow, both of them visibly excited by what they witnessed. "Y/N! What did Jimin sunbaenim say to you? I can't believe he approached you first."
"He just apologized because he thought he was being too harsh. Which he wasn't in the slightest bit." You explained. "I think he felt bad but I thought he was kind. A little to kind considering the circumstances we're under."
Eunchae seemed disappointed at your answer. "And here I was thinking that you were the pathway to us becoming best friends with BTS sunbaenim." She pouted.
You rolled your eyes. "They're an eight almost nine-year-old idol group while we haven't even debuted yet. I don't think we'll ever be close to them because they're in a different league than us."
"You never know." The maknae shrugged. "When I'm best friends with Jungkook, I'll be having the last laugh."
"I'm sure you will."
If only you and Eunchae knew how much weight both of your words would carry. Perhaps you would have been more careful for everything that was to come.
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roosterforme · 1 year
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The Younger Kind Part 7 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley goes on his second date with Amanda. She's beautiful, sweet, and so into him. But you're on his mind like always and he needs to do something to finally get you out of his head and out of his system. He has an all too willing participant.
Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4600 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more!
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On Saturday evening, Bradley was getting ready for his second date with Amanda. He had been steadily beating himself up since you left on Friday morning. He could tell you were upset with him. Honestly, he was upset with himself. Kissing you while he was drunk had been bad. Seriously some college fuckboy shit. Probably worse than the guys your own age, because he should know better. Because he was so much older than you. 
And then he had kept you here all night, basically hijacking you when he should have sent you home. Instead, he had taken you to his bed. 
But now, the joke was on him, because his entire fucking room smelled like you. When he had tried to fall asleep on Friday night, his pillow smelled like a field of wildflowers. And then all he could picture were your glossy lips, pouting with a bright red Skittle perched between them. 
His dick was rock hard after that, and it had been almost painful how badly he needed to masturbate to the thought of you at midnight, his face buried in his pillow.
But that was yesterday. Now he was fresh out of the shower, where he had masturbated again, this time thinking about you in those cutoff denim shorts you had. At least now he was considerably less wound up as he let Noah play on his bed while he picked out something to wear to this film festival with Amanda. 
Amanda. Yes. Now she seemed like a safe bet. She checked off all of his boxes, and she was definitely giving off the vibe that she was into him. She had even been the one to initiate plans for the second date. 
"Should daddy wear this on his date tonight?" he asked Noah who was playing with some stuffed animals. He held up jeans and another Hawaiian print shirt. 
"For the babysitter?" he asked, perking up. 
Bradley swallowed hard. He wished. "No, bub. You get to hang out with your babysitter. I'm going to watch some movies with another woman."
Noah turned back to his stuffed panda and said, "Stay home and play with us. And eat ants on logs."
Bradley dropped the clothing onto his bed and ran his hands over his face. He stood there in his underwear for a minute, taking deep breaths. 
"Noah, I'm going out with this lady so that hopefully you can meet her one day, okay?"
He listened to his son mispronounce your name. "I thought she was your favorite."
Bradley groaned, yanking on his jeans. "She is, bub. That's the problem."
He heard you let yourself in and call out his name.
"Bradley? Noah? I'm here."
Noah slid off the bed and ran out of the room as soon as he heard your voice. Bradley also felt like running into the living room to give you a hug. Instead he finished getting dressed and ran his fingers through his hair to make it look better. But when he made his way to the living room and spotted you holding Noah, wearing those cutoff shorts and a tank top, Bradley thought maybe he should have jerked off again. 
"Hi," you whispered to him, trying to keep your expression neutral. Bradley wasn't sure if you were still upset with him because he had kissed you, but he did promise not to let it happen again. He would also wake you up if you ever dozed off on the couch again. 
"Princess." The name was out of his mouth before he could take it back, and he watched your expression change. Now you looked pleased with yourself as you set Noah down. 
"You look nice," you told him. "For your second date."
He laughed. "Yeah, I guess I have you to thank for that, since you fixed my app for me."
Bradley watched your face fall a little bit. "That must be it," you agreed. "Where are you going?" you asked as you pulled some coloring books out of your bag and held them out for Noah. 
"A film festival. In Balboa Park," Bradley replied. He watched Noah select the dog themed book and plop down right on the living room floor with it. 
You ruffled Noah's hair and handed him a box of crayons, and Bradley was once again aching for you.
"A film festival? Sounds right up your alley," you told him. You chewed on your lip for a beat before you added, "Maybe you should take your pajama pants and some popcorn."
Bradley could picture cuddling with you and feeding you popcorn in this room so easily, he needed to close his eyes and take a deep breath. 
"Nah, I'd miss my own couch too much," he promised you. 
"Ah, I see. Maybe for your third date then? You might need your couch?"
No.
He thought it so quickly. Almost said it out loud. Because he honestly could not picture bringing Amanda here after a third date.
Instead he said, "We'll see."
You nodded before you sat on the floor next to Noah. "Well, have fun."
Bradley cleared his throat. "If the two of you need your crowns, Noah's is on his dresser. And yours is on my bedpost."
Your eyes popped up to meet his, and your lips parted. He had hung it there again after you moved it before you left for your class yesterday. It was where it belonged.
"Thanks," you whispered. 
----------------------
As soon as Bradley left, you could feel your body sagging. You watched Noah color while you took a minute to catch your breath. A second date wasn't the most serious thing in the world, but you needed to get over him now. Before it got any worse. Because even if not with Amanda, there would eventually be a third date, and a fourth, and a sleepover, and a relationship. 
You felt sick now. 
"Can you color that dog green?" Noah asked, looking at you with his sweet face and handing you a crayon. "What's wrong?" he asked, climbing into your lap and mispronouncing your name.
"Nothing is wrong, Noah. I get to color with you and make you dinner."
He settled back onto the floor and said, "I wanted daddy to stay here tonight."
You sighed. "That would have been nice." You wondered what this woman looked like. She must have been pretty. Most of the women you saw messaging had pretty profile photos. They all looked like real adults, too. Women who had established careers, and maybe kids of their own. The kind of woman Bradley was looking for. 
"Are you hungry?" you asked Noah. "Want me to make you some spaghetti?"
You tried your best not to let your thoughts stray to Bradley, but when you opened the refrigerator to get some milk out for Noah, you saw that Bradley had purchased two more bottles of the French vanilla coffee creamer. You knew he must have preferred hazelnut, but he seemed to have switched to your favorite flavor. 
You slammed the door shut hard enough that Noah jumped in his seat. "Sorry," you whispered, kissing the top of his head and pouring him some milk. "Okay, time for spaghetti."
Apparently Bradley liked you well enough to keep you coming back to babysit, but not enough that he would kiss you again when he wasn't drunk and rambling about how pretty he thought you were. 
----------------------
Amanda was snuggled up against Bradley on the picnic blanket she had brought. He was already sitting awkwardly as it was, and now his back was starting to hurt as she was pressing her body along his arm. He could feel her breasts rubbing against his bicep, and he wasn't sure what he should do about it. 
"Mind if I lay back?" he asked, feeling like this date was not going as well as dinner had two nights ago.
"Sounds good," Amanda practically purred, planting her palm against his chest and pushing Bradley back. When he propped his arm behind his head, he was still able to see the gigantic screen that had been set up in the park, but soon Amanda was laying on his chest, blocking the view.
"Oh, okay," he whispered, and she smiled, resting her chin on his chest.
"I mean, we weren't really watching it anyway, right?" Amanda asked, and a really adorable smile lit up her face as she licked her lips. She was pretty. And now she was scooting up along his body, her dress pulling a bit, exposing more of the tops of her breasts. 
Bradley swallowed hard, and then her lips were on his. She pushed her fingers into his hair, but it kind of tickled more than anything, and Bradley was barely returning the kiss. It wasn't bad, but he also had no problem keeping both hands tucked underneath his head. 
Amanda moaned softly, and he supposed it would have been enough to get him going, but now he was thinking about how his bed still smelled like you. When he tried to go to sleep later, he was probably going to get hard again. Harder than Amanda would be able to get him with her mouth on him. 
Bradley pulled back a tiny bit, and thankfully his phone vibrated in his pocket. "Gotta check that, sorry," he muttered, unlocking his phone to see that you had sent him an image. He opened it with a pounding heart and clumsy fingers, revealing a photo of Noah in his crown, writing DADDY on a sheet of yellow construction paper. 
Bradley just wanted to be at home. 
"Everything okay?" Amanda asked, sounding a little impatient.  
"Uh, yeah. One second," he mumbled, sending you a text back.
Are you wearing your crown too?
Almost instantly you wrote back to him, and Bradley was excited to see another photo of you in your crown. But he didn't get one.
Babysitter: No. I'm not feeling like much of a princess tonight. Enjoy your date.
Bradley sat up again, not sure why that bothered him so much. 
"What's wrong?" Amanda asked. 
"Nothing," he insisted, and then she was touching him again, her lips gliding along his neck. 
"Good," she whispered, running her hand along his arm and lacing her fingers with his. And then thankfully the credits started rolling, and everyone on the neighboring blankets started to stand up. 
"Movie's over," Bradley said like a straight up dunce, getting to his feet and pulling Amanda up as well. He checked his phone again. It was almost 10:30 and you hadn't said anything else to him. 
"Oh, well, it's early. How about we go get dessert or coffee?" Amanda asked, insisting on keeping her fingers linked with his. "Or.... I could show you my place?"
Bradley just grunted. "I need to get back to my babysitter."
"Right," Amanda replied. "Walk me to my car?"
Bradley nodded, and managed to get her in her car only after she kissed him and rubbed herself against the front of his body. She moaned into his mouth, and Bradley honestly didn't know what the fuck was wrong with him. She was perfect, and she was clearly keen on fucking him. 
He broke away, and when he was about to tell her good night, she said, "Call me and we can set up another date." But he just nodded and started to head for his Bronco. 
-----------------------
After you gave Noah a bath and got him changed into pajamas, you and he shared a snack. 
"Can you teach my dad how to make the ants on the logs?" he asked as you carried him to his bed.
You chuckled. "I can try, Noah, but I don't know if he could even handle doing that much in the kitchen."
Noah sighed and snuggled in with his stuffed animals. "The food is better with you here," he said with a yawn, and you rubbed his back until he was sleeping. 
Then you went about your routine of picking up toys, cleaning the kitchen, and getting some food prepared for the boys. Because even if it broke your heart to know that Bradley didn't want you, there was just no way you could leave him and Noah hanging. You started by making more carrot sticks for them, and then you moved on to a few dinners before curling up on the couch with your textbooks and some Skittles. 
Bradley's date must have been going well. It was pretty late, and you were trying not to think about it. You had clinicals coming up, and you needed to study. You made it about thirty minutes into your reading by the time you thought you heard Bradley pulling into the driveway. And when he rushed inside you looked up at him, just as you popped an orange Skittle into your mouth. 
"Princess," he muttered, smiling softly at you. 
"Bradley."
"Why aren't you wearing your crown?" he asked, closing the door behind him, but never taking his eyes off you.
You laughed, popping two yellow Skittles between your lips as you closed up your book and put it in your bag. "Why aren't you still on your date?"
"I asked you first," he insisted, and you rolled your eyes. 
"I just felt more like a peasant than a princess. That's all. Now, why are you home already?"
Bradley's brow was scrunched as he sat down right in the middle of the couch, his leg rubbing yours as you immediately stood. He looked up at you, saying, "I'm not really sure." He eyed you up and down where you stood in front of him, like you were on display for his eyes only. "And you're no peasant."
His gaze was making you feel warm as you ate the last Skittle and dropped the wrapper into your bag. "I guess you're the peasant. No Skittles for you tonight," you told him. But he just responded by licking his lips. 
"I don't deserve any," he told you, and you watched his huge hands as they slowly rubbed up and down his thighs. You thought about climbing in his lap, kissing him and letting him get a taste of the candy after all. 
Instead you told him, "You'll let me know when you're going on your third date, and I'll come over to stay with Noah." And then you hoisted your bag up higher on your shoulder. 
"I don't think there's going to be a third date," he told you, his voice so deep now, it reminded you of when you heard him in the kitchen early yesterday morning. 
"Oh." You weren't sure what to think about that. You'd psyched yourself up all night long, gotten used to the fact that this Amanda woman was going to be getting to sleep in his bed with him, unlike you. And now, maybe that wasn't actually the case. "What's the problem? She tell you she hates salad dressing?"
He shook his head. "Worse. She was pretty and nice and funny, but I didn't want to touch her."
"That's a shame," you whispered, remembering exactly how his hands and his kisses felt. "Well. You know how to reach me." Bradley was staring at your lips as you turned to leave, and you pulled the door closed behind you without another glance at him. 
---------------------
Bradley was about to beg you to stay. You were the same, still funny, witty and sharp as a tack, but he could tell you were irritated with him. He wanted to get you back to joking around in the kitchen with him. He wanted to kiss you again, push you up against his furniture. While he was sober, so you knew he meant it. 
But you were turning to leave, and he wasn't sure when you'd be back, because he didn't have any more dates planned. And he couldn't make himself want Amanda, no matter how hard he tried. 
Just as he was about to suggest you stay and have a beer with him, you were turning to leave without gracing him with another glimpse of your pretty face.
"Fuck," he groaned as the door closed behind you. "You fucking idiot," he growled, picturing those Skittles brushing against your lips before you crunched on them. He rubbed his hand along his dick through his jeans. He was hard and getting harder now, and that's when he caught sight of your hoodie on the couch next to him.
Bradley grabbed it and buried his face in it, inhaling the wildflower smell and stroking himself again. "Princess," he grunted, running his nose along the fabric. "Oh, fuck."
He unbuttoned his jeans and eased the zipper down, knowing there was only one way he was going to get a little bit of relief, short of enjoying your body right now. With one more deep inhale, Bradley let his hand glide down his abs, ready to pull his jeans down. He groaned your name this time. And then the front door opened again.
"I forgot my hoodie- Oh!" you gasped, eyes wide as you took in the sight before you. Bradley had his hand close to his cock, and your shirt was balled up in his fist, near his nose.
He was hoping you'd just turn around and leave again, pretend you didn't see any of this. He was completely mortified as he dropped your hoodie to try to cover his open zipper and his underwear from your view. At least he hadn't pulled himself out yet.
But instead of leaving, you pushed the door closed, with you firmly inside his house. You took a delicate step toward him, nibbling on your lip with your eyes trained on his. 
"Were you saying my name?" you asked softly, taking another step in his direction. He was so mesmerized by your body, with your bare legs on display, he started nodding before he could stop himself. 
"Yeah, Princess," he groaned, and he knew his cheeks must be bright red.
He watched you reach up and touch your neck. "Shouldn't you be moaning Amanda's name?" you whispered, and Bradley was treated to the sight of you pressing your fingertips to your lips. 
He just shook his head, and now you were standing right in front of him, so close he could touch you. You knew now. He was certain you knew exactly what you were doing to him. There was no turning back. 
"No, Princess. Amanda doesn't make me hard like you do."
"You were thinking about me?"
Bradley nodded. "That's the problem. I can't stop thinking about you." He couldn't believe he said that. He was going to die of mortification. 
But you whimpered, and Bradley was bucking up against nothing as your eyes dropped to his barely concealed erection. 
You bent at the waist, resting both of your palms on his knees, and Bradley was treated to a nice view down your shirt. You licked your lips, and he was about to lean forward and kiss you as you said, "I can help you with that. If you want."
Then you slowly pulled your hoodie off of his lap and glanced down. Bradley's cock was hard and huge, aching as you were touching him now. Before he could answer, he watched you sink down to your knees and settle in between his splayed legs. You were rubbing his thighs through his jeans, and his heart was pounding so hard, he thought he might pass out. 
Your voice was so soft and sweet. "Do you want me to?"
The only thing Bradley wanted was for you to take care of this for him. For him to be able to feel your hands on his body. He groaned as you ran your fingers up and over his cock, squeezing him through his jeans. 
"Oh, yeah, Princess. Please."
And then you were guiding his jeans and underwear down until he was springing to attention, finally free from the tight fabric. 
Your glossy lips were parted, and your eyes were wide as you reached for him, wrapping one hand gently around his length. You stroked him once, and Bradley almost shot up off the couch, it felt so good. 
Then you kissed his tip, swiping his precum away with your tongue, and Bradley was leaning forward and tipping your chin up to meet his eyes. 
"Princess," he groaned, running his thumb along your lips. "You done this before?" He wanted you so badly, but he couldn't stand the thought of this being your first foray into oral sex. He was simply too far gone for something so delicate. 
You parted your lips and licked his thumb with a smirk. "Yeah. Once or twice, Bradley." Your tone was sarcastic, and he throbbed in your hand. "I am in college, you know. I'll take excellent care of you, I promise," you whispered, kissing his tip again while you kept eye contact with him.
"Yeah," he grunted. "That's what I'm afraid of." He stroked your cheek, watching your every move intently. When your perfect lips parted and wrapped around his cock, Bradley ran both of his hands through his hair before fisting them at his sides. You were barely sucking on him, just the tip, but it felt so fucking good he was already panting. 
When your tongue popped out to swirl around him, he tipped his head back and groaned. "Princess," he hissed, his cock leaping in your hand as you let your thumb trail down his full length to his balls. "Goddamn it."
He watched you smirk and open your mouth wider, taking as much of him as you could. You bobbed on his length, pushing him deep enough that you were starting to gag. And that was it; Bradley's hands flew to your face, stroking your cheeks softly with his fingers before pushing back along your hair.
You watched his face as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked harder. "Oh, fuck," he growled, neck and shoulders straining against the urge to fuck your face until he came. He didn't want to do that, not right now, because this slow agony you were putting him through was fucking fantastic. 
When you slowly dragged your lips back to his tip and popped him out of your mouth, Bradley was treated to the sight of your wide eyes and your tongue peeking out to wet your lips. You looked so fucking innocent. So young. So filthy with your tongue laving along the underside of his cock, keeping him nice and wet. 
Then you moaned softly, and Bradley hissed your name. 
You eyes met his with a soft, hazy look as you ran the tip of your nose down to his balls. "God, you're so big," you whispered, kissing him there. "Are all Daddys this big?" you asked him. 
Bradley pulled gently on your hair, tipping your head back to look at him, keeping you steady with his other hand on your neck. The softest sound escaped your parted lips as he leaned forward a bit. "Call me Daddy again."
Your lip trembled as you nodded with Bradley's hand tight around a fistful of your hair. "Okay. Daddy."
His primal moan filled the living room, as he watched you rub your cheek against the angry, red head of his cock. 
Then your perfect lips were on him again, your tongue treating him to sensations he couldn't ever remember feeling. He tried to keep his hands gentle on your face and hair, but you felt too good. He found himself guiding you a little slower, needing to make this last as long as physically possible.
You took him until you gagged again, and Bradley was seeing stars. "You're so fucking good, Princess," he groaned, but that just seemed to egg you on as you went harder. Bradley watched you take him impossibly deeper, feeling the rub of your throat along his tip. He could feel himself moving against your throat where his hand was now gripping you, and he just gaped at you, mouth hanging wide open as you licked and sucked. 
When you released him again, you used both hands to stroke him as you kissed the tip. "Do you like this, Daddy?"
Bradley's eyes were practically rolling back in his head. "Oh yeah," he grunted, thrusting up into your palm as you tickled and squeezed his balls in one small hand. 
"Do you want to cum in my mouth?" you asked him, eyes glittering as you kitten licked along his cock. He was throbbing in time with your little licks and kisses, and he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. 
"God, baby. So bad," he grunted, pushing you down gently with his palm on the back of your head. He saw you grin and heard you giggle, and he couldn't get enough. When you parted your lips for him, you guided him toward your plush tongue, tapping him against you there. Then you wrapped your mouth around him once more, and Bradley knew he wasn't going to last long. 
The obscene, wet sounds. Your soft moans. The vibrations along his dick. You were bobbing hard and fast now as he chanted Princess.... Princess!
You took him so deep, he could feel your lip and you saliva on his tightening balls as you sucked him hard. He knew his fingers were digging into your scalp, and you were squeezing his hip now. When your gaze met his, Bradley really felt his control slipping. 
"No, no, no," he whispered, wanting this to last forever. It was so good. You were too good at this. And he would be lying to himself if he said your pretty, innocent looking face wasn't making him even harder for you. 
You must have been able to tell he was close when you wrapped one hand around the base of him. You swirled your tongue while you jerked your mouth around him with such finesse, Bradley couldn't believe you were only twenty four. "So fucking good," he groaned. "God damn it!"
And then you took him like a champ, all of his thrusts hit the back of your throat, but you barely flinched, keeping your gaze on his. Your eyes were watering now, and you whimpered as he filled your mouth and throat up with his hot cum. 
It had been so long since he had been with a woman, but he didn't think he'd ever had an orgasm that lasted this long. He was still groaning, fingers gentle at the back of your head as you swallowed him down. Then you came back for more, slowly gliding your mouth back down his length before popping him out again. 
He whispered, "Princess. Fuck," as he watched you lick up the additional beads of cum that you coaxed out of him. And then Bradley was spent, sitting back against the couch in a daze. He stroked his fingers along your cheek and chin, caressing you as you continued to lovingly kiss and lick his cock as he started to grow soft in your hands. 
"You okay, Daddy?" you asked him, wiping up some of his cum from the corner of your lips.
"Princess," he whispered as you nuzzled against his hand. "You learned a lot in college, huh?"
You just giggled, and reached your finger out to his lips. Bradley opened his mouth for you, and licked up his own cum, loving the look in your half lidded eyes. He watched you lick your finger after he was done with it, and then you stood up. He thought about asking you to stay with him, but instead he just sat there with his cock hanging out and watched you pull on your hoodie. 
"Let me know when you need me again," you told him with a smirk before leaning down and kissing his forehead. Then you left again without another word. 
--------------------------
Bradley got his dick wet with the babysitter. Bye, Amanda. Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 8
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navstuffs · 5 months
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BratTamer!Leon Kennedy with a SpoiledRichGN!Reader (warning: mild dubcon, SMUT SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)
author's notes: yes, i know i normally don't write about this, but really been in the mood lately for something like this. enjoy!
BratTamer!Leon Kennedy, who gets hired by your rich dad to be your bodyguard, but only on paper. The truth? Your dad is tired of your spoiled attitude and decided to hire someone to teach you some manners, though he was the one to spoil you in the first place.
BratTamer!Leon is hated by you at first sight. You don't like having someone around you as you try to spend your afternoons spending money and going to luxurious parties, especially when your friends are more attracted to hitting on him, always being stared at by his watchful blue eyes (when he isn't wearing those stupid sunglasses). Sure, he is attractive, but they can't see he is a pain in the ass, standing behind you with those dumb sunglasses and incredibly sexy blue suit?
BratTamer!Leon gets tired of your superior attitude toward everyone and is close to his limit. The last straw is when he sees you screaming at a poor young lady worker from a high-end store for simply bumping into you on accident, though she tried to apologize in a tearful tone. You don't notice Leon's eyes fill with rage as you scream about how incompetent the seller is, so the whole store hears as you humiliate her. This behavior from you ends today.
"You think you are better than everyone, don't you? Just because you are rich? Just because daddy gives everything to you? It is time someone teaches you some manners." BratTamer!Leon growls before shoving your mouth down his cock when you are back in the expensive car. You realize there is no resistance on your part, a little anger inside your belly, though Leon isn't forcing you down. You are doing it because you want it. "Look how well your lips are taking me. How long have you wanted this?" Fucking bastard.
BratTamer!Leon who vows to fuck you as you need if you behave nicely but punish you badly if you don't. At first, you roll your eyes, ignoring the desperate sensation of being with Leon again. But when a maid from your house breaks a glass cup accidentally, you start screaming at her, not because you care about the cup but because you want to know what kind of trouble Leon is talking about.
The sounds of the slaps on your ass probably echo to the house, but you don't care. At least your dad isn't home. BratTamer!Leon has you on his lap, your ass exposed. He makes you count every single one of the slaps and tears in the corner of your eyes, and he warns, "Do not lose count," you lose it "on accident" a couple of times. BratTamer!Leon is still nice enough to rub your ass when he thinks you've had enough, impressed by how much you took it.
But he keeps his promise. When you apologize to the worker for screaming at her (attracting many surprised stares from everyone), BratTamer!Leon returns late at night to your room and gives you exactly what he promised.
"Haven't been fucked like this in ages, haven't you? See what happens if you behave? I can give you much more than this." BratTamer!Leon grunts as he takes you from behind, grabbing your waist, not giving you time to breathe, every single pound hitting deeper inside of you. You want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he is taking you so good, so good, you can only sob a miserable no, begging to not stop.
Your whole demeanor changes. You become more polite, greeting those you always considered lower than you. Your dad is shocked, simply asking BratTamer!Leon, what it took. Leon smiles as he answers, "Just be firm, that is all."
But no one can change like that, and your brat personality comes out when you see a friend of your dad's hitting on your bodyguard during your birthday party. You honestly don't know half of those people, used to your dad using you for fame, but as you see those long red nails in BratTamer!Leon's dark suit, you bump into them with your wine glass before leaving.
He finds you on the balcony, his white shirt wet with wine, his suit jacket long forgotten. He is pissed, you are furious, and when he asks what that was all about, you tell him to go back and find someone else who he can have fun. And now you sound fucking stupid, with tears in your voice, turning around. You are hoping for him to punish you when you turn away, but when BratTamer!Leon's hand grabs your arm and turns you gently, his hand holding your face.
"Why would I want someone else if I only want you, bratty?"
BratTamer!Leon decides to give your birthday gift earlier. By bending you over the balcony, he suggests you stay quiet so no one looks up and sees how slutty you are. His face goes between your legs as he pushes his fingers inside of you. You hold back your moans, your legs trembling, and it doesn't take long until you whimper for him to stop teasing you and fuck in front of all those people to show everyone who you belong to. Not once does a single head rise despite Leon's grunts, occasional slaps in your ass, and the apparent noise of sex from the balcony. You still manage to keep quiet, even when he raises your leg so his dick can go even more deeper.
When you are done, BratTamer!Leon doesn't leave you like the other times. No, he helps you get to bed, helps clean your body's sweat, and cuddles with you. Leon simply shrugs when you ask him what your dad would think about him on your bed, replying maybe a little of your stubbornness rubbed on him.
"Really? You would blame this on me?" You wonder, pretending to be shocked.
"Why not? Everyone knows you are a bad influence. I might as well be the victim in all of this. Or he would thank me for giving you some manners."
"You really think really you have straightened me up, didn't you, Kennedy??" You tease, and he jokingly gives you a warning slap in your ass.
"We shall see this, brat."
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— 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓬𝓬𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽 — (sully family x fem!sully!reader)
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pairing: sully family x fem!omatikaya!sully!reader
tags: mourning, getting therapy
warnings: lowercase intended, implied character death, angst
a/n: characters are aged up! this is inspired by that one tiktok audio and then my curiosity got the better of me and turns out, it was a whole youtube series and i was hooked on it. i've been wanting to make a fic based on that audio for a while but didn't know what characters to use. hope you guys enjoy despite it being angst ㅠㅠ
a/n 2: do you want a longer version of this oneshot? look no further because i will be making a short series based on the youtube series called "LUCIDS" and the masterlist can be found here!
word count: 1.1k
+ gif not mine. ctto.
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y/n had been keeping herself busy for the past 3 months. she did everything to keep her mind off of everything. weaving baskets and nets like it was a project to give everyone in the clan, fishing for meals that can have her family full for 5 whole months, collecting and discarding every foraged stuff she could get from her endless walks, riding her ilu further and further beyond the reef just to feel something.
being the oldest of the sully kids was tiring but even being a sister wasn't able to make her feel anything. it was much more numbing than it should be. it made her distant from them.
lo'ak couldn't meet y/n in her eyes. it was like if they looked at each other, the walls they both built would crumble the second their gazes meet. it was like strangers being forced to get to know each other after knowing the horrible crimes they both did.
kiri was very concerned for her older sister. y/n exerts her energy beyond her capacity, does dangerous explorations beyond the reef, and sometimes come back with cuts and bruises, and how she would skip meals to finish all the projects she 'needs' to weave. she was overworking herself and in the 3 months y/n was busy, she had fainted countless times eventually norm and max were called when it kept happening.
tuk missed her big sister so much. she missed collecting pearls by the shore and being carried around while exploring the forest. she was scared at how y/n looked now. from once being a bubbly young adult who was curious and eager to learn something new to a drained-out, almost dead-looking na'vi who would kill people if she saw them looking at her weirdly.
if the three were concerned, imagine how her parents feel. it hurt jake and neytiri to see their oldest overwork herself to distract whatever she was feeling. jake knew how it felt like and he wanted to help his daughter badly. but each time he tried to talk to her, y/n would push him away further and further. she even hissed at him to make her point.
neytiri was angry and concerned. why was her daughter pushing her own mother away when all she wanted to do was help? y/n shouldn't push her away because as her mother, neytiri understands her more than y/n knows, or at least that's what she likes to think.
it was like y/n became a stranger that the sully's just allowed to stay in their home.
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when y/n was fishing for dinner, her mind had been wandering elsewhere. her eyes stared down at the net she held as dread slowly filled her mind. it was like her sight was enlarging in front of her until she hears a distorted voice call out her name. "y/n."
she pulled away from her trance, eyes widening as her breathing became slightly erratic. y/n breathed in deeply through her nose and out through her mouth before her attention went to ao'nung, or what looked like ao'nung by the shore.
"hey there! just a quick update. tsireya is still swimming with the ikrans, who were gliding through the mountains on their bellies, then they ate an eye of a seaweed. now, the ilus and tulkans are fighting for some reason." ao'nung said, he was far away from y/n but somehow she heard everything clearly.
"oh… wow…" y/n says, clearly not understanding a single thing from what the metkayina had just said.
"how's your existential crisis coming along?" he asked so nonchalantly.
y/n was bewildered to say the least. this was the longest time she had held a conversation for how many months now.
"uh… fine?" she answered back but it sounded more like a question. "good!" ao'nung exclaimed back before turning around to leave when,
"ao'nung!" y/n immediately called for him, who turned back around to look. "can… can dreams also have memories?" that sounded wrong. "i mean, can you still have dreams even when you're dreaming?"
"oh, y/n. what else are memories if not dreams themselves?" ao'nung replies, not making as much sense as the question she asked.
"what–" "alright then, more soon!" ao'nung cuts her off before running off to eywa knows where.
y/n was left once again with her thoughts. she turns back to the net she was holding, only for it to be gone. this confused her and when she turned back to where the shore was, the next thing she knew, she was sitting on a giant rock.
"do you blame yourself?" the same distorted voice that called out her name earlier asked. distress filled her veins as she looked to where she heard the voice.
y/n's eyebrows furrowed. "what?" she asked. she saw herself, an exact copy of herself wearing human clothes that norm and max wear with a pen and paper held in her hands.
"well, it's quite common in this situation for a patient to feel a kind of guilt." her copy said, voice distorting more and more.
y/n's mind was in turmoil. "what situation?" she asked. the same dread she was feeling came into full force. her chest became heavy as it caused her to not breathe well.
her copy had this concerned look but the smallest of a smirk appeared on her lips, the following words leaving the copy's mouth. "the accident."
that's when y/n was transported back to the day neteyam had died.
she was there when he was shot through the chest. she knew the bullet was meant for her but he pushed her away and in turn, the faith of death fell upon him.
while the rest of her family had cried, she didn't. instead, she felt numb and angry. no other emotions filled her body except these two. it had helped her kill some sky people and some avatars when she came back to save kiri with her parents but after that, all y/n felt was numbness.
the heavy routine she placed upon herself became the only thing that made her feel something through the numbness she felt. it wasn't enough but at least it was something.
the same distorted voice came back. "it's very common for people to invent blame or create a causality" then the voice became normal in an abrupt manner, and her surroundings turned to norm's lab where he used his avatar and where they were able to breathe normally. "when in reality, it was completely out of your control." norm's voice was soft as he talked to the young na'vi in front of him, who in turn was staring off through the distance.
the forest where she and neteyam grew up, only for her brother to never come back home.
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vixenobrian · 3 months
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Seeing Ghosts
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This is the first fic I've written here, so I hope you enjoy it!
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader
---------------------------------------------------
"Bradley honey, I'm home!"
No answer.
I sighed, setting down the groceries on the island countertop. I knew he was home, the Bronco sitting in the driveway was a clear indication of that, but I also knew why I had received radio silence.
"How was Mav?" I asked, almost scared of the answer myself.
"Mav's fine hun." Bradley retorted. He must have been upstairs in the bedroom, hiding away from me. I understood how hard this must have been on him, but not seeing my husband run down the stairs and greet me with a kiss when I walked through the door still kind of hurt my feelings. Still, I knew how important his space was after his visits.
"How are you bubs?" I called back. Nothing.
Mav had been in and out of the hospital for months now, more and more parts of his body slowly giving way. For a man who wasn't supposed to live past his 30s, everyone was certainly surprised to see it was in fact old age that did him in. Recently though, it was his brain that was going, and this seemed to be the hardest on everyone.
Bradley had been struggling, badly. Between his parents and Ice, Mav was the only one he had left, and to see him slowly slipping away, losing both his body and mind at the same time? Bradley had barely been able to stand it. Each night he would come home after visiting, crawl into bed, and simply lay his head on my chest and cry. I really wasn't sure what else to do at this point, other than be there for him.
I sighed, grabbing the fancy bottle of wine I picked up from the grocery store, before heading upstairs. We both needed a pick me up, and what better way than a good wine, and a home-cooked meal.
"Roos, darling," I called, slightly pushing open the door to our bedroom. I vaguely caught a glimpse of his figure, but I pushed right past it, wanting to grab the things I knew he needed and was probably avoiding. When he got like this, he tended to neglect his medicine, and I knew if I took a glance at him, I would have too. I grabbed the bottle off of the bathroom counter, seeing it right next to his spread-out shaving kit. I pushed back into the bedroom, finally looking him in the eyes.
"Roos, I have a- oh God!"
Rooster sat on the edge of the bed, his big broad shoulders slumped over in defeat. I could tell he had been crying by the dark red circles around his eyes, but none of this is what concerned me. Above Rooster's top lip laid no mustache, something he had worn with pride for years. He always considered it his best feature and took meticulous care in grooming it. I had never even seen him without it. I knew something had to have been terribly wrong.
I sat down the wine on the dresser, my excitement fleeting with the bottle, before reaching for his face. I brought my legs over him, straddling his lap, before taking his face into both of my heads. Immediately, I began to wipe his tears, while simultaneously peppering kisses to his cheeks.
"Roos, honey, what happened?"
"He called me Nick again."
My heart sank, pulling him fully into my embrace. I felt tears start to fall from my own eyes and the boy beneath me began to sob, shaking in my embrace. His hands clenched the back of my shirt, as I attempted to comfort him in his sorrows.
"Bradley, I am so sorry," I said. I felt guilty. I felt anger toward Maverick, even though I knew none of it was his fault. Still, he had hurt Bradley, my Bradley, and the anger that came with that radiated through me. I took a deep breath, trying to push these emotions down.
"I just want him to see me" He whimpered into my shoulder. My hand found the nape of his neck, slowly playing with his hair there. It was his comfort spot, and I felt him slowly relax into me, letting all of his body weight fall freely as if we were being combined into one. I let him lay here for a few minutes, switching between playing with his hair and rubbing his back, before slowly backing away, and once again taking his face into my hands.
"Bradley, honey, I am so sorry that happened to you, but I need you to know, no matter what happens, Maverick loves you so much sweet boy," I comforted, "and on top of that, I love you so much. So no matter what, you are loved, Bradley."
He pulled me in the back of my neck, planting a sweet kiss right on my lips. The lack of hair felt foreign to me and caught me off guard. I pulled away, still holding his face in my hands, when I noticed his cheeks turning a color red.
"So, how bad is it?" He asked genuinely, causing me to chuckle.
"You are still the most handsome man in the world Bradshaw," I told him genuinely, "but how long before it grows back?"
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shadowkoo · 7 months
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Bad For You - Teaser
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→ Summary: Jungkook wants what he can’t have and it’s driving him nuts. He’s never thought of you more than Namjoon’s annoying little sister, but that’s all changed now that you’ve returned from university. Especially now that you plan to stay at his apartment until further notice. Having you around takes his mind off the importance of this season, something he cannot have happen since last season ended so badly. A distraction like you might either become the biggest mistake of his life, or perhaps the best one. You know better than to sleep with the up-and-coming, all-star, fan-favorite hockey forward for the Denver Dragons. And it’s not because he’s just as much a player off the ice as he is on it. More importantly, he’s your brother’s teammate, best friend, and the guy whose place you’re crashing at. He’s been off-limits since the day you met him, but it didn’t stop you then, and it sure as fuck isn’t going to stop you now…
↠ jjk x f.reader | 224 words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, hockey au, professional athlete au, brother’s best friend au, forced proximity, age gap, forbidden relationship
→ Teaser Warnings: Jungkook is hot and bothered, and takes a steamy shower where he masturbates to past memories of you 😏
→ Official Teaser for Bad For You, Fic 1/7 of the All About You series
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Jungkook undresses and turns on the hot water, letting it fall onto his chest as his head falls back. He has one hand extended out to the wall, which he leans on for support. The other is trailing down his body, down toward his throbbing dick.
It won’t take him long to get off. Not when he’s so worked up.
He rubs his thumb over his tip a few times before starting to pump his length.
Thoughts of you cloud his head. Like how you tasted that night. Like how you panted in his ear and begged for more.
Jungkook’s hand moves faster and he grits his teeth.
So maybe he lied. Maybe it wasn’t only a kiss. Maybe his fingers were also deep inside your tight little pussy.
The memory alone sends him over the edge. His grip around his thick member tightens, and he tosses his head back as his load is shot into the drain below him.
Masturbating to the thought of you isn’t a very proud moment in his life. It’s a shameful thing he’ll hardly admit to doing more than once, even if that’s not the truth.
He breathes deep and closes his eyes. He’s fucked for sure. You’re not even back in his life yet and he’s already losing control. How on earth is he going to survive?
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Follow me to stay up to date! Posting announcement coming soon! Join the taglist here!
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©shadowkoo 2023. All rights reserved.
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catherineaboutlife · 22 days
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Two Stories of My Three-Year-Old Daughter's Conscious Manifestation
Today I want to share two successes of a conscious manifestation. But not my own, but my three-year-old daughter.
Preface
As you know, children are the most important dreamers who easily adapt to the world around them. Therefore, since my baby has grown up, I have allowed her to dream, to consciously experience this world, talking about the law of assumption in a language she understands - in the form of fairy tales. It works. And here are the last two success stories of my daughter (she allowed me to share them if anyone cares 😁)!
First story
We took a family walk near our house for weeks and again saw a stray dog that had been roaming our streets for more than three months. She is very friendly and kind despite her hard life. A neighbor told us that the other day some hooligans treated her badly and beat her. Unfortunately, we couldn’t adopt her because my husband is allergic to dogs, and the shelters in our city (we live in a small town, by the way) were overcrowded. My daughter asked me: “Mom, why, if we can do everything, is this sweet dog suffering?” I told her that it is really not good that we, having such power, allow this to happen, but we can always change the situation.
I forgot about this situation, but not my daughter. Before going to bed, we were talking to her, and she mentioned this dog again. She knows that in order to manifest something, it is enough to completely identify yourself with your desire, and it will certainly manifest itself into the outside world. So she started telling me that this dog was now in a safe place where she was loved and appreciated. She talked about it so much that I completely believed her. She talked about it like it was real (which it is, u know)!
The day before yesterday we were walking again and the same neighbor told us that a wonderful couple stopped on our street and took this dog into their home. We met them and they turned out to be very nice people and good neighbors. Now the dog is completely safe and in good hands. When my daughter found out about this, she was incredibly happy for the dog and proud of herself (and my husband and I were proud of her)! 🥹❤️
Second story
My daughter has a friend whose father became seriously ill a few months ago (he doesn't have a mom, just a dad, FYI). I spoke with his grandmother, who looked after the boy during treatment. The prognosis for recovery was minimal. My daughter and a friend go to a dance together and he told her this story. Due to his age, he did not know the details of his father’s illness, but he understood that the situation was completely hopeless. My daughter told him that no matter what, he needs to trust that his father is okay, he is recovering and everything is fine, just like before.
We love to talk and fantasize with our daughter before she goes to bed. She shared this story and said that his friend’s dad would definitely get better, and his friend, as usual, would be cheerful and happy (he had been very depressed lately because of this). She said this every day for about a week, fully imagining and feeling the situation getting better.
After about another week and a half, my daughter learned from a friend that his dad was feeling much better and had already returned home. According to her, her friend again became cheerful and happy as before. I was so proud of my daughter and happy for her friend's family!
My husband and I are very proud of our baby. She is very empathic and kind, but at the same time very rational! We have a real conscious manifestor growing up who will certainly get the best from this world! These stories only confirm this. 🥹❤️
I am glad that I can pass on to her such fundamental knowledge about the law of assumption and thereby help her independently live a better life from childhood!
As you understand, the law works with everyone, no matter what! The main thing is to be persistent and pay attention to any depressing circumstances that do not make sense.
Good luck! I love you, guys!
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sweetfushi · 16 days
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Hii! Im not sure if you have any request rules, but i was wondering if you could write fic of a platonic father Aizawa in which his teen daughter pranks him saying she is prengant?
Thankss, hope you have a nice day 🤍🩷
SYNOPSIS. his daughter pranking him by saying she’s pregnant.
TAGS. aizawa x reader.
NOTES. hi my love, thank you for your request. for future reference, my request rules can be found here, but your request aligns with them, so here you go (i hope you have a nice day too) <3.
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Aizawa is lounging on the couch with an arm over his irritated eyes. His day was demanding, more than usual, and he has his dry, red eyes to show for that. He needed to go out and get some more eyedrops - a task that he decided could be done later during the week.
"Dad!" He hears his daughter rush down the stairs and walk into the living room. He hums in response, too tired to formulate sentences. Aizawa feels her lean over him and stare at his exhausted expression, causing him to flutter his eyes open. His daughter's eyes are just like his - dark yet holding underlying tenderness.
"Look," she starts, straightening her posture and picking at her nailbeds. "I have something to tell you. And–" she sighs, "I need you to hear me out before reacting."
Aizawa's brow furrows at his daughter's tone. She's only a teenager. What could be troubling her so? Most importantly, what is it for her to assume that he'd react badly? He inhales deeply, clears his throat and sits up on the couch. You're out in Tokyo, spending some time with a few friends, so it's his full responsibility to ensure his daughter is alright.
"First off, are you in trouble with anyone?" He asks, trying to determine whether or not he needs to reassure her safety. At her age, she's much more susceptible to victimisation, whether being targeted by petty criminals or established, high-profile villains.
"No, I'm fine," she shakes her head and sits down beside him. Aizawa has noticed that her hair has started to look more like his - shaggy but not necessarily unkempt. It started to look messier from how much she was running her hand through it.
"Look, Dad, I know I'm only 16," she breaths out, mindful of how she comes across. She doesn't want this prank to drag on, so she's determined to make sure it's only a funny joke before it evolves into anything more. "But something happened."
Aizawa doesn't say anything, but she takes that as her signal to continue. "I've been... exploring myself, as girls my age do," she glances at Aizawa as he crosses his arms. "And I got involved with a boy–," She's cut off when Aizawa groans.
"Don't tell me what I think you're going to. I swear, if you're pregnant, you should've picked a better time to tell me," he presses his fingers to his forehead and exhales deeply, frustration evident. When his daughter lowers her head and winces, Aizawa almost hopes that the universe would knock him out then and there.
The silence between them is deafening, but Aizawa isn't sure whether he's disappointed in his daughter's irresponsibility or worried about her wellbeing. A bit of both. Aizawa mumbles incoherently, continuing to massage his head and push his hair out his face, even rolling his sleeves to cool his heated skin.
"You need to tell your mother," he states. "But not like this. When she comes back, you need to sit her down and ease her into this."
D/N nods. She suddenly feels the tension in the room and the possibility of having tainted her father's trust burdens her. She bites her bottom lip and picks at her nailbeds again. When he goes to get up to the kitchen, she grabs his arm. "It's a prank. I'm not pregnant," she admits, smiling sheepishly. "I'm sorry."
Aizawa observes her expression and almost collapses from relief. He throws himself back on the couch and closes his eyes again. "Is this another trend on social media? Not all trends need to be indulged in, you know," he huffs. "Damn near gave me a heart attack," he admits, pulling her into his embrace and pressing a kiss to temple.
"I have to get you back for that."
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