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#i mean I’m an adult she’s not responsible for me so it is what it is I guess
philsmeatylegss · 2 years
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"eugenia cooney isn't the reason for my anorexia" like you aren't blaming her. honestly how dare you expect someone so sick, so thin they're practically disabled, and tell them they need to get off the internet because of how they look. not everyone who has had an eating disorder's experience is universal, and by treating it that way you shit on every eating disorder sufferer's autonomy. you can get off the internet if you feel that strongly about it. after all, you're an adult and it's your responsibility to keep yourself healthy right? lmao
Anyway Eugenia Cooney should get the fuck off the internet. She is abusing her severe mental illness for views, not considering who those views are from, purposefully and that is sickening <3
#1) I didn’t say she triggers me now as an adult#i said that I discovered her when I was 13 and incredibly impressionable#this was the majority of her audience#she doesn’t do shit to me now and I couldn’t care less#but she really fucked over a lot of 13 year olds including me#2) you’re right my experience with my ed is not universal#but symptoms of my ed are universal#3) I’m like 95% sure you’ve never dealt with a restrictive ed and have no clue how horrific it is#or you’re 13 years old with an ed#4) eugenia cooney did not make me have an ed that fact is 100% true#traumatic events both from my childhood and what was currently happening at the time of the development of my ed as well as low self esteem#and lack of identity is what caused my ed#i have never said she is responsible for peoples eds because she isn’t#what she is responsible for is the continuous romanticization of restrictive eds#giving people a body to strive to get#in 2016 i saw thousands of people who talked about wanting their body to be like Eugenia’s#5) when you post your face and content to the internet you automatically are opening space for criticism#i have every right to say whatever the fuck I want about it#yes I am adult but let’s not forget she is one too#she portrays herself as ‘uwu so soft and precious smol bean innocent pwease don’t be mean*#but she’s a fucking adult who should recognize the responsibility and impact she has#6) eugenia made herself sickly and “’almost disabled’#and it’s insulting for you to use that card to people who were actually born or through circumstances out of their control became disabled#7) I never said she should get off the internet because she is thin#i want her off the internet because she profits off of her illness and is aware of the influence she has#i want her off because those views mean more than both her health and the health of those who look up to her#do you see how she poses? the leaning over or outfits to make her look thinner?#that’s not someone who is struggling with an ed that also makes content#that is someone who is profiting off of their illness and glorifying it to those who see it#tw ed
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kedreeva · 2 years
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When I was a kid, maybe 14 or so (which is, you know, 20+ years ago), I belonged to a Yahoo! mailing list for an anime called Gundam Wing. It was mostly populated by other teens, of varying ages, as it was started by a teen and her friends. Eventually it migrated, when Yahoo! groups started as forums, and even branched off into non-GW related stuff in a second forum.
One of the things I remember the most clearly is the oldest person in the group. Her name was Steelsong. She was a 40-something Dom with a sub whose name we knew even though we knew nothing else. She ran her own fanfic archive because the web was still handmade HTML and navigated in webrings and I’m pretty sure Google didn’t exist or was only barely, barely launched and not well known. She was kind and patient and we loved her. She treated everyone on the group with the respect given any adult, even though most of the rest of the world was still treating us like we were children. Not teenagers even, but children. She never once condescended to any of us, never made our youth a barrier to her respect, never treated us like we were incapable of being full people or like we were less than her because we were young.
I remember that she hosted our fanfiction, as absolutely terrible as it was (and I still have some of it, I am WELL aware of how cringingly terrible it is, just absolute nonsense garbage), right there alongside of other fic that was soul-achingly beautiful. Not a separate section for her friends or for kids, just right there like we were good enough to feature alongside other authors. I never once received crit from her that I didn’t ask for, only support. Only love. I am still writing today partly because Steel was so kind about our fic, fanfic and original.
I remember that when I started doing clay sculpture, she commissioned a tiny pair of dragons from me, to support me doing artwork. She sent a check my mom cashed for me, and my mom helped me mail it when it was finished. It broke in transit, and Steel assured me that she mended it and that it was still beautiful. It was a small gold dragon curled up with a small silver dragon.
I remember that her patience knew no bounds. I remember that she was there for us, regardless of reason. When we wanted to know silly things like what to do with a single AA battery, she answered. When we had serious questions about sex, she answered.  When we had questions about writing, she taught us. When one of our group members, a young gay teen in Australia, ended up in the hospital and then stopped making posts, and we all knew what had happened, she let us talk to her about it because we couldn’t go to our own parents, even though we had just lost a friend.
She was not a replacement to my parents, but she was an extra parent, in some ways. A friend, certainly, but someone that had been through more life than we had and was willing to pass on knowledge if we asked for it. Someone older that we trusted with things that were too uncomfortable to go to our parents or teachers or whatever about, because we already knew she wasn’t going to judge us or something, and that we would get an honest answer.
I don’t know why I’m remembering this so hard tonight, and I’m not sure if there’s a point to sharing this, except that I know she’s gone now. She was ill the last time we spoke, and her site went down a long time ago, and I miss her. She was a huge influence on my life, then and now. She was hope, for me, that life as an adult didn’t have to be boring, it wouldn’t have to mean giving up the things I loved and Becoming Only Responsible With No Fun. Her presence meant I had hope I could still write and play with friends even when I wasn’t ‘a kid’ anymore. And she’s gone, and I miss her, and I wanted to share her from the perspective of youth, and the perspective over twenty years later has provided me.
And I think of her, when people go off about older folks being in fandom with younger folks. I’m an older folks now, or at least middle aged folks because there are certainly folks older than me still, but I wasn’t always. I’ve been here since i was a younger folks, and I know how much Steel’s presence and support meant to me, how much she helped not just me but everyone on that group. And I think of the people saying older folks don’t belong in fandom, and that they shouldn’t interact with younger folks at all, and I just think... I can’t agree. I needed that kind of solid presence in my life back then and even at the age I am now, I need the folks older than me to stay. I want them here.
So I guess, like, if you’re here and you’re 40 or 50 or 60 or 70 or 80 or whatever, I want you here in fandom with me, still. Your presence here is a comfort. It is hope. It is a reminder that life will continue to be fun, even as I get older, myself. And if you’re younger and you have this sort of elder in your groups, I hope that they are like Steel. I hope they are kind and patient and supportive, and that knowing them gives you hope for your own future. I hope in twenty years you look back and remember them fondly.
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tiredsadpeach · 1 year
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Update they both hate me because I told the child one of them was harassing the acc he could block to try and stop it
#I knew they’d find out tbh and idc their reaction is all I need to know#the one that was harassing a minor is the same one someone said was a piece of shit when the psychiatrist stuff was happening#her bf stood by and watched her harass his friend like they’re both vague tweeting that oh well she didn’t know his age man idc the age just#made me more angry the fact that you did it in the first place is fucked up it always has been and y’all both know I think that#if y’all tweeted about not liking someone on priv and that was it I wouldn’t care#but it’s the constant pqrting because you know it’ll upset that person and give anxiety etc that makes it harassment and makes me mad#and now they’re both tweeting things like oh well you shouldn’t be following him at your big age how dare you disrespect us#an adult just knowing a minor is not a bad thing like holy shit get off the Internet please#plus I couldn’t message without following so I followed in hopes to be mutuals so I could warn him but I shouldn’t have to have an excuse#following isn’t some intimate thing y’all just wanna hate me more#she also tweeted about how I lied (I didn’t) and that she’d expose me#like for what? being a bad friend like two years ago? when we talked it out I fully agreed that yeah I shouldn’t have talked about those#topics etc bro I literally said there was no excuse and I’m sorry it all happened but it’s pretty obvious I have grown and changed to be#better you can’t expose me when I have receipts of me taking responsibility and doing what I could to show I was wrong#and I’m sorry how is trying to protect a minor who you are harassing the thing that drives you away for good#did I disrespect a toxic relationship oh no how dare I y’all need to get help friends of your partner shouldn’t be harassed just because bpd#jealousy like I have bpd too I really hate some of my bf’s friends and wish he wouldn’t talk to them but what do I do about it? nothing#i distract myself maybe but I know if I do what I want yknow like telling my bf to stop being friends with someone I know I’d be in the wron#and I know he should break up with me etc etc like that doesn’t mean I don’t have these thoughts which sure aren’t healthy but at least I’m#not fucking acting on them like at least give yourself a safe outlet idc when you just tweet about it on priv most of the time but this pqrt#shit has to stop if you wanna stay my friend I’m obviously at my limit with how y’all are both so content with how toxic y’all’s relationshi#is and won’t do anything about it to the point minors are being harassed but oh it’s okay I didn’t know and I stopped when I knew#how can you watch your bf harass a friend of yours just because y’all ARE FRIENDS god it’s so infuriating#she never apologized for the psychiatrist stuff btw lmao#I know they both want a reaction out of me so I’ll act first and apologize or something but I just don’t care anymore#I’m done man like that Drake and Josh episode but fuck Drake bell btw#kinda hope next time I open twt I’m blocked since they want a reaction so bad#like nah I’m tweeting like nothing happened because y’all really showed your priorities and morals#maybe y’all should do what your bpd tweets have been saying and just have eachother y’all don’t need anyone else
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lewisvinga · 7 days
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sneaky link | jude bellingham x sainz! reader
summary; y/n knew it wasn’t the best idea to sneak jude in while her family was out at dinner. but she couldn’t help but risk it despite her overprotective brother
warnings; cursing
word count; 956
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi
note; before you all ask no i’m not okay w the kroos news
masterlist !
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“Oh shit,” Y/n mumbled as she heard multiple cars pull up into her driveway. She quickly gets up from Jude’s lap and looks out her bedroom window. She mentally curses when she sees the cars of her parents, brother, and sister in the driveway.
“What happened?” He asked curiously, lifting his head from her pillow.
She picked up his white t-shirt and zip-up hoodie from her makeup chair and chucked it at him. “My family came back earlier than expected. Hurry! Put your clothes back on!”
A laugh escaped from his lips as he sat up on her bed. He sets his phone down and catches his clothes. “You weren’t complainin’ 5 minutes ago when you were on my lap and-“
“Yes you’re very hot and as much as I appreciate you shirtless,” Y/n huffed, watching her brother shut the door to his Ferrari. “My brother wouldn’t.”
“I swear he’ll like me.”
“Just because you play for Real Madrid doesn’t guarantee that Carlos won’t go all crazy big brother on you.”
“Yeah but-“
“Y/n!” Her mother’s voice called out for her from the bottom of the stairs. “We came early and brought back dessert. Come down to the backyard!”
Y/n and Jude shared the same wide-eyed look. Whenever he visited especially late at night, the backyard patio was where he usually snuck out since there were cameras in the front door. With her whole family outside, it would be more difficult to get him out.
She hears the back door open and close, meaning they’re all outside. “You can get out from the side-“ She turned back to face her boyfriend and noticed he was still shirtless. “Stop distracting me!”
Jude couldn’t hold back his laugh from her panicked face. She glared at him as he wiped the tears from his eyes, taking deep breaths to try to stop laughing. “Okay, okay, fine! I’m sorry.” He said in between laughs, putting on his white shirt.
“I don’t know why you’re so worried though. I’ve met your mom already.”
Y/n sighed and grabbed her ugg slippers. “My mom. You’ve met my mom. Not my brother or dad.” She mumbled in reply. She remembered the time she brought a boy home when she was 15. Boy did her brother scare him away. Ever since then, she swore she wouldn’t bring a guy around Carlos not until she knew he was ready to see his baby sister be an adult.
“He can’t be that bad.”
She gave him a glare and he raised his hands up in defense. She grabbed his hand as she slowly opened her bedroom door. She looks down the lengthy halls before quietly and carefully dragging him towards the staircase.
“Now, keep quiet because I don’t need Carlos seeing you,” Y/n whispers to Jude who nods in response. They made it to the bottom of the staircase and were about to rush towards the side doors when a familiar voice stopped them.
“Don’t need me seeing who?”
The couple froze in their spots, both too scared to turn around. She felt her heart stop for a second when Carlos cleared his throat again. “Y/n.” His voice was stern.
She gulped and slowly turned around. She stood in front of Jude but that did little due to his height. She was met with her brother's stern gaze. His jaw was clenched, clearly unhappy at the sight of his baby sister with a boy.
Carlos knew who Jude was. Being a Madridista since birth meant he knew every player, especially one who helped them win the league. The Ferrari driver was a fan of the English player, at least he was until he saw him standing behind Y/n.
“He was just leaving-“
“Why is he here?”
“Hello, Jude, nice to meet you,” Jude said with a smile. He held his hand out but Y/n immediately slapped it down. “What? I’m trying to be nice!”
She glanced back at her brother and took a step closer to him. “Por favor, Carlos. No hagas de esto un gran problema.” [please, carlos. don’t make this a big problem] She quietly said. “Has hablado bien de él. No cambies tu opinión ahora solo porque el es mi novio [you’ve talked good things about him. don’t change your opinion now just because he’s my boyfriend]
Her eyes were wide and her eyebrows were furrowed up, showing how much she wanted her brother to be calm about her relationship. Jude was confused as he stared at the Sainz siblings. He only knew so much Spanish and certainly not to the extent of understanding all of what his girlfriend said.
Carlos lets out a deep sigh as he gently pats her arm. “Vale.” [okay] He says after thinking for a few seconds. “So what, is he your sneaky link?”
His words caused Y/n to gasp as the English player bursted into laughter once again. “Carlos! I just said he’s my boyfriend!” She exclaimed, ignoring the feeling of her face burning up as her boyfriend balanced himself on her and tried to stop laughing.
“Why’re you sneaking him out?”
“Because of you!”
Jude takes a deep breath before standing back up straight. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout sneaking behind your back. It did kinda seem like I was her sneaky link.” He said with a smile, gently poking her cheek.
Carlos gave him a glare which made the Real Madrid’s player smile fall. The Ferrari driver immediately smiled before pulling him into a side hug. “Oye, no more sneaking around with my sister. You’re an amazing player on the pitch and just because you’ve saved us many times doesn’t mean I’ll be easy on you for dating my sister.”
“Got it, no more sneaky link meet-ups.”
“Jude!”
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ovaova · 1 year
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💕🛁Shits n’ bubbles 🛁💕
(Like shits n’ giggles haha get it..? Y’a..? No.. y’a okay-)
Request from friend, co written by her too <3
CW: Shower fucking, husband and wife with family, that’s about it Fr
(Both the reader and Bakugo are fully grown adults and are parents so don’t come for me- Minors you should alr know, so if you get in trouble- that ain’t on me 🤷🏽‍♀️)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Nnngh fuck..baby..” Katsuki groaned as he held your waist against his in the relaxation of your shared shower.
The hot steam covered you both and coated all the glass possible in your bathroom.
The feeling of his skin knocking against yours was sending you over into heaven.
He’s sitting down on the shower seat, legs spread wide open with you sat right where you belong, in his lap riding him good and hard.
It had been so long, too long, since you’ve had him snugly inside you and boy were you so so sensitive.
With being parents with busy Hero schedules, there isn’t a lot of times where you two can be intimate like this, so when you both were off for the night with no late patrols- you both took what you could.
It was currently around 2:00 AM, and you couldn’t feel more needy for him.
He was so handsome, so beautiful, so yours…
“Mmmh..Katsuki!-“ You whined into his neck as you basically held on for dear life-
He groaned in response before he started to thrust back up, colliding against your movements causing you to arch your back, pressing the front of your body against his chest.
Your nails gripped into shoulders as while your toes curled up as well.
He knew you were close..
He smiled at this before landing two hard smacks on your left ass cheek.
He heated up his hand in the process, leaving a faint print on your skin.
That knot you’ve grown to know so well was starting to swell, ready to burst
“Come on, give it to me…cum on it baby..”
That’s what sent you over board..
You squeezed him tightly as you squirted, your release mixing with his as he came as well
Your chests heaved up and down in unison before being your lips together
It had honestly been a long week and you wouldn’t really had it end any way
At least that’s what you thought, before you felt your husband subtly thrust into you again, even as out of breath as he was.
“I’m not finshed yet, I wanna’ round three,”
You couldn’t even speak as another knot began to form,
Your eyes remained closed as mouth stayed open, but nothing came out
The only sounds available was the sound of love making and the water rushing out the shower head-
*KNOCK KNOCK*
You and Katsuki both jumped at the random knock on your bathroom door
“Mommy? Daddy? Are you in there??”
Both you and your husbands eyes widened at the sound of your 6 year old daughters voice
“S h i t-“
The knocking continued once again
“Daddy? Are you in there??”
That’s when Katsuki turned to you!
“What the hell?! I thought you made sure she was fuckin’ asleep?!” Your husband whisper shouted (hope that makes sense)
“Of course I fuckin’ did! Did you lock the door right? It’s a double lock door, did you hear two clicks when you locked it???”
“…”
“REALLY KATSUKI??”
“We just moved into this house! I can’t remember all these damn locks!”
“We’ll you better get to remembering if you’re always trying to fu-“
“Daddy?? I need help- it’s an emergency!”
Katsuki just kinda sat there wide eyed, like a deer in headlights. You love your husband but sometimes… sometimes he would just have his moments…
“Goddamnit Katsuki! Can’t do shit without- fuckin dumbas- JUST ANSWER HER-“
“Y-YES- yes? What do you need??” He held, trying not to sound as awkward as he was..
“I threw up!”
.
.
.
You both froze-
“I- W-WHAT?? What do you mean you threw up???”
“I don’t know, I just got sick! Can I come in?-“
You and Katsuki started to panic as you both heard your daughter trying to turn the knob
“N-NO No! Just..uh..gimmie a second! I’ll come in a minute! Just go back to your room..!”
There was silence before you heard deer patting away from the door, at which you both exhaled.
That’s when you started chuckling a bit.
“It’s not fucking funny…” Katsuki grumbled.
You continued to giggled before hopping off your husband, detaching from the place where you once were connected, to turn off the shower.
“It kinda is though, that’s just what your horny ass gets.” You teased, grabbing your towel off the hook to dry off before you felt a smack on your ass again.
You turned around to scold him but you were only faced with a smug grin.
“This might be funny to you right now- but just wait, we’ll make it up in the morning..”
You blushed before slightly smirking yourself
“I’ll be looking forward to it,”
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goldengalore · 2 months
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Ready
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An anxious!reader fic.
Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: angst, smut
A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)
***
Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.
As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.
And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.
On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.
Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.
And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.
And then Harry came along.
Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.
That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”
“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”
“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”
She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.
“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.
“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”
“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”
In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.
Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.
While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.
She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.
“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.
Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”
His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”
“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”
He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.
“H, I’m ready to do this.”
“Really?”
She smiles. “Yes.”
“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”
“Yes, please.”
Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.
Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.
“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”
She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.
Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.
He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”
Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.
“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.
Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.
Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”
She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.
“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”
“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.
“What are you talking about?”
She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.
“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”
His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”
“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.
“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”
“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”
“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”
She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”
He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”
She turns away from him and gets off the bed.
“Y/N.”
She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.
But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Y/N? Can I come in?”
A few moments later, he knocks again.
“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”
Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.
They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”
She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.
When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.
***
Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊
H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning
Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow
H: Sure, thanks
Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.
After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.
At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.
She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.
“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”
“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.
“How come?”
“I can’t stop thinking.”
“About…?”
She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”
He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”
“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”
His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?
“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”
“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”
He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”
Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.
“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”
He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.
“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”
“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”
She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”
“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.
“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.
She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.
“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”
“It’s okay.”
“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.
She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”
***
Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST
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seravphs · 1 year
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO x FEM READER
When Megumi gets injured on a mission, you realize you’re not capable of taking care of a child.
wc — 1.8k
tags — misunderstandings; self doubt; the pitfalls of teenage parenting when you’re all child soldiers; mild angst with a happy ending; happens post sometimes a family is you, teen dad Gojo, and the six year old child he accidentally orphaned, part I of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together. 
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You shove Megumi into his arms, a bundle of bloody black fabric and dead weight. Gojo doesn’t stumble - he never does - but it’s a close call as he instinctively wraps his arms around whatever you’ve pushed onto him. 
“Teleport! Teleport!” You’re so frantic you’re incoherent. It takes a full minute, a minute you don’t have, before you realize that you can’t just say things. Gojo, as invincible as he is, can’t read your mind. You have to explain what’s going on, but how can you focus when Megumi is bleeding out? His little face is growing paler and paler by the second. 
His hands are so tiny. Why is that the only thing you can focus on? They’re grasping the front of Gojo’s jacket for dear life as he coughs weakly. 
“Teleport him back to HQ! Get Shoko!” 
You resist the urge to shake Gojo by his lapels, slap some sense into him. It would only hurt Megumi. Why won’t he move?
“I can’t!”
“What do you mean you can’t? Go! He’s losing so much blood, you have to go now!” 
You know you’re getting hysterical, but Megumi is dying right in front of you. 
“I can’t teleport! There are conditions-“ 
“He’s going to die!” 
“Stop- I need to think!” 
In the back of your head, you can hear Shoko telling you in that cool and detached tone of hers that you’re hyperventilating. 
Look, she says, you see that? You’re breathing too quickly. You feel lightheaded, right? 
Gojo spreads his jacket out on the ground of the forest. “Help me get him ready. I’m going to sew up the cut.” 
“Let me-“ 
“I’ll do it. I’ve done Getou’s before. You just focus on keeping him breathing.” 
You can do that. 
Hunched over Megumi’s body, Gojo gets to work. He looks so frail, spread on the grass with only Gojo’s jacket beneath him. His eyes are normally dark, but they’re blacker with pain, his pupils swallowing up his irises. 
The first puncture of the needle makes him wail before he slaps his hand over his mouth. You peel it back and make vaguely soothing noises, trying to be comforting. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you murmur, letting him rest his head in your lap.
“You can scream, Megumi. I know it hurts. Oh, honey, I know. I know.” He’s making this face that agonizes you. His nose is all scrunched up as he clenches his jaw. He’s the type of kid that would rather chew up his suffering and swallow it back down then let anyone see it. 
This happened on your watch. 
Sick self hatred rises in your throat. 
Gojo would’ve never let anything happen to Megumi. 
He whimpers quietly and you flinch. Without even thinking of it, you reach for his hand. You force yourself not to tremble. You’re an adult. It’s your responsibility not to scare him like that. 
His eyes are closed as Gojo grimly works the needle through, but there’s a jump in his frantic heartbeat, as tiny as a rabbit’s. You can detect it through the pulsing vein in his wrist, funneling blood to the injury only to waste it on air. 
He’s such a brave kid - your brave little boy. You smooth his sticky wet hair back from his face, damp with sweat. He moans in pain and twists away. Your heart crumples. 
It takes so much for him to be vocal about anything that hurts him. How much pain must he be in?
“Gojo,” you say. 
“I’m trying!” 
You know. Going any faster is likely to have dangerous consequences. This is the only way. How cruel. You have to hurt him to help him, and isn’t that just the story of your parenthood? 
You curl around him, protective as if your body can shield him from his own body working against itself. The more blood he loses, the harder his body fights to keep him alive. 
It’s an infinitely long minute before Gojo proclaims the grim deed finished. Megumi had passed out long beforehand, his death grip on your fingers slackening as the pain pushed him into nothingness. 
He wakes up on the long drive back to campus. Ijichi has never bent so many speeding limits in his life. Normally a careful driver, he shoots furtive looks at the kid staining his back seats red. You can feel his judgment of what kind of parent you are settling over you. 
Shoko must be thinking the same thing as she patches Megumi up in your kitchen. Her reverse cursed technique seals the cut up in seconds flat, though a scar remains, puckering the flesh of his forearm. 
“Just like Utahime,” Gojo tells him, pinching his cheek. “You didn’t cry either, so you’re better than her.” 
“Don’t talk about your seniors like that,” you say absentmindedly, though your mind could not be further from disciplining Gojo for his poor behavior. 
You can’t send Megumi to the Zenins. You know what they’d do to a sweet kid like him. They’d turn him into a monster like his father. You shudder, thinking of the creature from your nightmares who had stolen the life of a sixteen year old girl, and nearly taken Gojo with him. You could never let them do that to Megumi. They probably wouldn’t take care of Tsumiki either, unless to hold her over his head. But just because they aren’t fit caretakers doesn’t mean you are. 
“Hey.”
“Hey.” 
“Hey.” 
Gojo’s been trying to get your attention for who knows how long. When he sees that he finally has it, he sends Megumi off to bed and jerks his thumb at the door. Wordlessly, you follow him to the porch. It’s dimly lit from a singular overhead bulb without a covering. The two of you stand in a circle of light, the night outside pressing in against the walls of your home. 
“What is it?” He says impatiently. “I fixed everything, didn’t I? Why are you still upset?” 
“It’s not you,” you say. It’s so cliche, but what else is there to say? “It’s my fault.” 
“Don’t,” he says softly. 
You pull your hand back when he tries to take it. There’s a perverse sense of satisfaction in denying both of you what you want. You don’t deserve this. 
He’s silent for a long time. You let the silence stew, determined to outlast him. Quickly, it becomes clear who has the upper hand. You shift from side to side, nervous and tense, while he just waits with his hands shoved in his pockets. When you finally look over, he’s wearing his sunglasses again. His hair glows under the porch light, attracting moths. “Finally felt like playing nice?” 
He’s attractive when he’s mean. You hate that about him, the way the cruel twist of his mouth ties knots into your stomach. It would all be easier if you could hate him, but everything he does only makes you love him more. 
What a twisted little family you’ve built for yourself. 
He sighs. “Stop that. Don’t-“ he waves his hand in your general direction in frustration. “You always do that. It’s not your fault.” 
“He needs a real parent, Gojo. I couldn’t protect him.” 
“I was there too,” he says. “You don’t see me agonizing over my mistakes. It happens.” 
What mistake, you think bitterly. Gojo’s only fault is trusting you with Megumi. He’s the strongest. If it was him, nothing would’ve happened. 
“It wasn’t your mistake. It was mine. If I hadn’t been there, everything would have been fine.” 
“Again?” Gojo says quietly. 
It’s a forceful reminder of how much you sound like Getou right now. He never recovered from what that monster - Megumi’s father - did to him. Even now, your class lives with the scars of that day. Gojo’s face is wistful for a brief moment, deluged by memories. Then it’s gone, wiped from his expression like it had never been there. 
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say, wondering if it’s too late to take it back.  
Gojo never falters. He’s unreasonable and childish, but he’s as solid as stone. You’ve watched him shoulder every single burden he’s ever been asked to carry since he was a child, and now he’s taken on one more. You promised Gojo that you would watch his back, regardless of whether he needed you or not. The words you spoke in a fit of anger and self pity bring you regret now. Weakness isn’t just failing to shield Megumi from all the dangers of sorcery that you wish you and Gojo had been protected from. Weakness is running away when it gets hard. 
Megumi’s your baby. 
You’re not going to give him up. 
A step forward has you pressing into Gojo’s space. He doesn’t yield, watching you with those ancient eyes. 
“I know it’ll only get harder, but it has to be us, right? Who else will keep him safe from the Zenins? I won’t leave, Gojo. I promise.” 
His relieved expression contrasts with his smug words. There’s a crooked smile on his face when he says, “I knew you wouldn’t just abandon us. You think Megumi wants to stay with me? You’re the one keeping him here.” 
“I get it,” you smack his arm. “No need for flattery. I’m with you until the end.” 
“I’m not kidding,” he protests. “There’s no universe in which Megumi likes me more than you.” 
How can you stay upset when he looks so proud of himself for finally figuring out the right thing to say to get you to stay? 
“He doesn’t,” you insist. 
Gojo rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Here, I’ll prove it.” 
It’s not uncommon for Gojo to put Megumi to bed. In fact, it’s a chore he fights you for. It’s probably one of his favorite parts of having Megumi around. He likes telling stories, and surprisingly enough, he’s good at it. He gives each character its own voice. More often than not, he ends up as invested in the bedtime story as Megumi is. Tonight, when he closes the book, he doesn’t leave. The soft light of the lamp on the bedside table shines through a crack in the door as Gojo and Megumi talk in hushed whispers. 
“I want my mom,” he says quietly. 
You lean against the door, pressing your head to the wood to try to keep yourself from falling to the ground. You want to try. You want to be there for him. But Megumi needs his mother, not some teenager who can’t even take control of her own life, much less a child’s. You’re all he has, though, and you have to make it work. You wish Mrs. Fushiguro was still alive, even if that means you would’ve never gotten to meet him. 
“Then ask her to come in,” Gojo says. 
Megumi makes a startled noise. You can almost see him burrowing into his blankets. 
“Go on,” Gojo coaxes. “Oh, come on. Don’t be shy now. You really won’t? Fine.” 
He calls to you. “Come in, sweetheart. Don’t keep us waiting.” 
The first thing you see when you open the door is Megumi’s head buried beneath the covers. Gojo’s trying to peel the sheets back. 
“What are you hiding for? I brought you your mom! You should be thanking me!”
“I hate you!” 
“I told you,” Gojo says. “He loves you more than me.”
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faeriekit · 2 months
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Snow Day
SO IT TURNS OUT @tourettesdog also had a far-frozen based Phic Phight prompt so here's a sister fic of Snowdrift Sanctuary from yesterday okay please and thank you
Tundra peeked around the pillar of ice. Again.
The human was still there.
…Tundra peeked left. Tundra peeked right. No one else had seen them yet.
The human, in a big coat and big boots was squatting in the snow, drawing shapes Tundra couldn’t make out with their finger.
Tundra’s tail wagged. Well. He didn’t have a very long tail, so he mostly butt-wiggled. There’d never been a human at the Far Frozen before!! Tundra had heard of humans — he’d seen depictions and heard stories, sure. But now a human was here. And they lived here.
That was so cool.
So, maybe Tundra wanted to say hi! So what? Mama had said that he should be nice to the human, since they needed help and shelter that the Chief would provide, but they were also new and interesting and they hardly ever had anyone stay with them who wasn’t a yeti ever!! Maybe they’d let Tundra play with them while they were here?
So Tundra got down on his haunches. He crawled over the snowbank, wriggling as he went, taking advantage of his coat that blended into the terrain.
The human didn’t see him at all.
Tundra bared his teeth in a play grin, eyes squinting, tongue caught between his teeth. The human was so close. He crouched down as far as he could. He waited until the human wasn’t looking.
Tundra pounced.
And then there was a flash of green burning through the air, hot and bright and loud. Tundra startled.
He landed in the snow, dazed and off-balance. He could feel a hot spot in his fur—putting his paw to it, Tundra could feel where his fur was burnt to singed ends, the tips of each hair bulbous with char.
There was a steaming hole in the snow behind him.
…Oh.
“HOLY SH—are you okay?? Did I hurt you?? I’m sorry!!” someone shouted. Someone gently turned Tundra’s head, careful not to move him too harshly or too quickly. “Is your head okay? Are you bleeding? Is—“
“…Cool.” Tundra muttered, eyes still stuck to the hole in the snow. That was so strong. Even Avalanche wasn’t that strong, and she beat everyone in the tournament last season. No wonder the chief was in charge of the human ghost, even if there were lots of adults willing to help.  
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” the human apologized again, hands on their flat, pink face. Huh. Their hair was white now. When did that happen? “Usually when ghosts sneak up on me, they’re, uh… they’re not usually playing.”
Tundra looked at the human’s flat face and frowned. They got attacked? For real, and not for playing? “That’s mean. I hope you got them.”
The human made a strangled noise. Super weird! “Yeah…yeah. I did.”
“Good,” Tundra decided, back straightening straight up. The human was about as tall as he was, but humans were smaller in general. They were probably older. “If anyone attacks you now, you should get the Chief to eat them, and then they won’t attack you anymore.”
The human made another choked noise. Tundra assumed it was a laugh. He grinned back, pleased with the response, and wriggled back upright. “I’m Tundra! Mama says that you’re older than me even though we’re just as tall as each other! Are you a boy human, or a girl human? Or neither? Or both?!”
“…I’m a boy,” the human said, voice weak. Tundra peered in close at him, trying to see if he’d been injured too, but no; he looked fine, and he got his black hair back too.
“Cool,” said Tunda. “So am I. Arctic is too, but he’s big already, so he doesn’t want to play all the time. Do you like hunting?”
“I’ve…never hunted before.”
Not ever? Tundra gasped. “We can play chase, then, and then the chief can teach you how to hunt! And then we can hunt together!” Tundra scrambled to his feet, excited. “Do you want to stalk Avalanche with me?! She always throws me off, and then we can wrestle!”
The human hesitated.
“Or,” Tundra amended, because the human was still kind of small, “You can watch me stalk Avalanche, and watch us wrestle, and then I can teach you to stalk the chief so that you can wrestle with someone you know is safe.”
The human snorted, the fur cuff from his sleeve hiding his face. “I don’t know…isn’t he busy? You know, being the chief and all…””
“You’re supposed to wrestle your parents,” Tundra assured him, chest fur puffing up with pride. “I used to chew on Mama’s ears all the time when I was a cub. Now Avalanche and Arctic and everyone else can wrestle with me because they’re big enough to know how to stop playing before they squash me flat.”
The human laughed, openly and brightly, and it sounded nice.
Tundra stood so that could he could launch himself back towards the settled part of their little patch of the Infinite Realms. “Come on!!” he shouted, more than eager to play. “Last one there doesn’t get any fish eyes!”
There was a moment of silence—and then they were both rolling in the snow, the human having decided to launch into him!! This was great!! Tundra whooped, feigning bites and wriggling while the human pushed him further into the depths of the snow. The human’s grin was kind of wide and weird without a muzzle, but that wasn’t his fault, and he was having fun!! And so was Tundra!!
And the human-ghost could fly, and Tundra couldn’t, so chasing after him was super fun. They made it all the way back to the settlement in no time flat, dodging other kith and kin—
And running into Mama and Chief Advisor Pritla on accident was worth how much trouble he got into later.
Whoops!
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christhopersturniolo · 3 months
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୨ MY LITTLE SISTER ୧ matt
summary: you had some plans with your boyfriend matt for the weekend, but something unexpected happens, and you have to babysit your little sister.
notes: this is my second time ever writing a fanfic (go read my first one) and english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, but I hope you enjoy it! all ears to feedbacks, l'd love to know what you think!
warnings: cussing, fluff
୨୧
I sigh “And why can’t you take her with you?” I say taking my eyes out of the screen and looking at my mom.
“How long will it take for you to understand that your dad is on a business trip and i’m going on one as well?” She answers walking from a side to another, packing some of her things. “I can’t take her with me, even if I wanted to.”
"But mom-" I start, only to be cut off.
"No buts, Y/n.” She interrupts, her tone firm. “I’m being serious." She looks straight into my eyes "It's what I'm telling you, you'll have to stay with your sister. I won't be paying for a babysitter while you're here with your ass in the couch. You are almost 18, you can very well take care of her, it’s only for the weekend.”
“But I told you I have plans with Matt!” I exclaim, leaning my head back on the headrest of the couch in annoyance.
My mom is about to reply when we hear the sound of my 3 year old little sister's footsteps coming from her room, followed by her little giggles.
We automatically get silent about this topic. I take a deep breath, reminding myself she's not the problem, she's just a child caught up in our adult issues. Bella is not the problem.
Don't get me wrong, I do love my sister, but it's a bit overwhelming to adjust having a sibling after being the only child for years. And with my mom's age, it's unexpected, to say the least.
SKIP TIME
Today is the day that my mom is going to her ‘super important business trip’, and also the day Im supposed to have a date with Matt.
After my mother left at 7am, Bella and I found ourselves up earlier than usual. We already had breakfast, so now, we don’t really have anything to do. We go to the living room, watch some TV.
Bella sits on the couch next to me and chooses the channel. After some good ten minutes, I look at my right to check on her, and she’s completely asleep, what makes me smile.
Until I realize that I didn’t canceled my dinner with Matt.
Shit, I completely forgot to talk with Matt! Fuck!
I get up and I go over to my bedroom, getting my phone and calling him. He takes some seconds to answer the call.
“Babe? Sorry, did I wake you up?” I ask, hoping the answer would be ‘no’.
“No, No, No..” He says with his husky morning voice, he definitely just woke up. “But why are you calling this early? Is something wrong?” I could feel myself getting fucking soaked as he talks, sorry, but his voice in the morning? I can’t take it.
I take a deep breath, trying to think straight. "Um, yeah.. Actually, my mom went out for the weekend, and I have to babysit my sister.. I don't know if I'll be able to make it to the dinner we had planned tonight”
“Oh” A simple response, What does that even mean? He probably hates me now.
"I know you already made the reservation, and I was super excited, I swear," I start saying nothing with nothing, feeling guilty for ruining our plans. "But then my mom told me she had this thing and..."
Before I could finish apologizing, Matt cuts me, understanding. "No babe, that's fine. Don't worry. Maybe we can do something else? With your sister? I have stuff to do all day, but I’m free at night, maybe we can have a sleepover or something?”
I sigh in relief “Yeah sure, that sounds great, I will talk about It with Bella”
“Alright call me later sweetheart, love you, bye” He ends the call and I go back to the living room, getting back on my place.
Bella is still peaceful sleeping on the couch. Not wanting to disturb her, I cover her with a blanket, but my actions unfortunately wake her up, blinking her sleepy eyes open. A small yawn escapes her lips, and she looks at me with a drowsy smile.
"Hey, sleepyhead" I whisper, gently brushing a piece of hair from her face. "Did you have a nice nap?" Bella nods, rubbing her eyes with tiny hands. "Mhm" she murmurs, snuggling deeper into the blanket.
I think about a way to tell her that Matt is coming over before she could fall back asleep “So.. do you remember my boyfriend, Matt?" Bella blinks, her sleepy expression turning curious. "Mm-hmm" she mumbles again, nodding slowly.
“What if.. He came over to a super fun sleepover with us today?” I say trying to sound extra excited to convince her.
Bella's eyes light up with excitement at the mention of a sleepover. "Yeah!" She exclaims, her drowsiness quickly dissipating. "Matt is funny!" Her sentence makes me chuckle “Oh he is?” She nods giggling, It doesn't even look like she just woke up.
The rest of the day, she doesn’t stop talking about Matt.
“Then- Then will Matt play games with me?”
“And can we watch frozen? I think Matt will like it”
Over and over, she’s more excited than me. But I mean, I can’t blame her, It’s Matt over all.
Around 8pm, Matt rings on the doorbell. I go over to the front door, Bella follows me, getting behind my left leg. I open the door and I see my boyfriend with two bouquets of flowers, a big one, and a small one.
“Hey love” He leans for a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, then he hands me the bouquet “This is for you”
A smile appears across my face, I chuckle “Thank you so much.. You really didn’t had to” I say looking at my favorite flowers.
“No that’s fine, don’t worry” Matt returns the smile, his eyes lighting up as he sees Bella peeking out shyly from behind me. "Hey, Bella" he says warmly, crouching down to her level. "I also brought these for you, little princess" he says, offering her the smaller bouquet with a gentle smile.
Bella looks at me, seeing Bella's hesitation, I give her a soft nod, silently urging her to accept the flowers from Matt. With a shy smile, Bella reaches out and takes the bouquet from him, still with one hand around my leg.
“What do we say Bella?” I place my hand on the top of her head, caressing her hair.
“Thank you Matt” She says still shy.
"You're welcome, Belly" He responds getting up, his voice gentle and kind.
Some hours after playing some board games and talking, Bella decided to go get her toys.
She returns carrying a bunch of dolls and stuffed animals, then she settles onto the carpet in front of us and places everything there. “Matt come play with me!” She says excited with some barbie’s in her small hands.
He gets up from the couch, and sits down next to Bella on the floor “Alright so what doll am I?” Bella looks around “Hmmm..” She grabs a really bad looking doll, marker-covered, and hands it to Matt. I automatically start laughing uncontrollably, Matt matches the energy.
I am just watching as they play, Bella makes Matt use a girly voice, what just makes everything ten times better for my entertainment.
After Bella got tired of playing with her toys, she made us watch frozen, it’s her favorite movie, this is probably her fifth time watching it. I sit on the left side of the couch, Matt on the middle and my sister next to him. Some 30 minutes after the movie started, Bella is already with her head on Matt’s lap, sleeping like a little angel, as Matt gently strokes her hair and she snuggles closer to him.
His eyes meet mine, seeing me watching him, he smiles “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing” With a soft smile, I rest my head on Matt's shoulder “You just look so cute taking care of kids” He chuckles and leaves a kiss on the top of my head.
୨୧
this actually sucked, i’m so bad at doing cute scenes, this def wasn’t what I had in mind lol, maybe i will delete it later.
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chrisevansonly · 10 months
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𝐦𝐨𝐦 & 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐭2 | 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨
✯social media au
✯daniel ricciardo x female reader
✯the nickname mom and dad finally has some ‘true’ meaning behind it 🫶🏻
✯ah this was a request so thank you so much!! this was very fun and cute to write, i hope you enjoy<3
part 1 part 3
ynricciardo
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mom and dad really are about to become mom and dad, baby ricciardo coming soon🤍
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username IM SOBBING
username im so happy for my parents 😭
username someone check on lando
lilyhme congratulations you two!! can’t wait to meet them!❤️
landonorris i need 4-5 business days to recover😭
>ynricciardo me too, wanna come watch cheesy movies with me���
>landonorris on my way 🏃🏻
username lando and y/n kill me😭
danielricciardo i love you, so excited to have a little terror around!!!!
>ynricciardo if they are a terror, that’s from you babe😚
ynricciardo added to their story!
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danielricciardo
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that is one hot mama, and she’s all mine😁😁
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username HOT MAMA😮‍💨😮‍💨
username oh she looks so beautiful!!!
username look at that bump!
redbullracing baby danny incoming!!!
>ynricciardo ❤️❤️
landonorris what size is baby ricc this week mom?
>ynricciardo they are about the size of an acorn squash apparently😂
>username lando calling y/n mom😭
ynricciardo
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this is life recently, all baby wants is gelato right now, which i won’t complain about. daniel and lando are like my full grown children half the time, and baby is the size of a cabbage now…which i feel the weight of 24/7🥴
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username cabbage ricciardo!!
liked by ynricciardo
username ou gelato sounds so good rn
username lando and danny being actual kids in adult bodies 💀
landonorris i was your first child remember that😌
>danielricciardo yeah idk why we agreed on that
>ynricciardo are you saying i was stupid to agree that lando was our first child? 🤨
>danielricciardo NO never, you’re the smartest baby, i love you!!
username HAHAHAHA smart response daniel
username im dying right now
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ynricciardo
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how the night started vs how the morning ended up, a very surprise welcome to our little girl Mila Grace Ricciardo. You are so special to us, mommy and daddy love you so much already❤️❤️
tagged daniel ricciardo
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username oh i’m sobbing rn
username Mila🥹🥹🥹
username I LOVE HER NAME SM
redbullracing welcome to the world little Mila!❤️
liked by ynricciardo and danielricciardo
landonorris im still crying
landonorris i can’t wait to meet her
>ynricciardo we’ll be home tomorrow so come over whenever ❤️
username lando crying is so me
danielricciardo my girls forever❤️
landonorris
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i’m not crying anymore don’t worry, just couldn’t help but introduce Mila as my god daughter. i can’t thank y/n enough, okay i guess daniel too, for trusting me with this title. i love Mila so much already
ps. i’m moving in😁
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username omg lando and mila😭
username why is this making me sob so hard rn
username lando is the best uncle and now godfather ever🥹
ynricciardo you’re family lando, Mila loves you so much already, you always have a home with us🤍
>username ‘you always have a home with us’ i’m unstable
>danielricciardo she means the garage
>ynricciardo 🤨🤨🤨
username HAHAHAHA this is sending me
mclaren welcome baby mila 🧡🧡
liked by ynricciardo and landonorris
username lando getting all the mila angles 😭
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igotanidea · 4 months
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Personal rhythm: Jason Todd x reader
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Summary/request: Jason finding out that you've never slow danced before, and he goes out of his way to arrange a dance for just the two of you alone.
thank you @miraculous-panic ;)
***
„What do you mean never?”
‘Seriously Jason, it’s a five letter word. One of the most common used in English. With all the books on your account this is not the question you should be asking.”
***
It was a Saturday night.
Movie night.
Y/N and Jason facilely decided that after all week of working/vigilanting, some silly teenage drama to cool off and relax would be in place.
And that’s how they ended up watching „To all the boys I’ve loved before”.
Or rather - binging through the whole trilogy.
Or - in other words - giving commentary and laughing at every other silly, cliche scene.
And it was so good and so nice and so peaceful, finally not having a care in the world and just relaxing in each other’s company.
Any other guy would probably complain about the choice and force his way to Fast and furious or some Jason Statham action movie, but not Jason. Truthfully as long as they were both spread comfortably on the couch, his head on her lap, being treated with the most welcomed head scalp massage, he might have watched the Paw patrol or Dora the explorer and not say a word.
However-
All good things must come to an end.
After something around 4 hours they finally reached the prom scene. The choosing king and queen of the ball scene. And the slow dancing scene.
And that changed the serene atmosphere.
„Do you see that Y/N? Come on, this guy can’t even lead her properly. I swear if he was moving like that in a real life poor girl will have her feet trampled.”
„Guess they should have hired you for the scene.” Y/N laughed in response.
„Damn right they should have! After all you were the one to say I remind you of the guy who plays -- what was his name again?” Jason rolled on his back so he could stare up at his girlfriend.
‘PETER!” she laughed as if they didn’t hear that name like 100 times already
„Right! Right, Peter! Of course! Still think I’m way more handsome though-”
„Damn, you’re such a tease Todd!”
„You’re my girlfriend, you’re supposed to agree with me!” Jason sat up abruptly, turning her head back from him and towards the screen. „Now, watch it carefully and confirm my theory. He doesn’t know how to slow dance, does he?. Seriously, from a girl’s perspective. ‘’
„I --”
„Are you blind now?” Jason smirked at her indecisiveness.  
„Hey!” the punch on his arm did nothing to hurt him but was definitely a surprise
„Just admit it! Guys don’t dance like that! This is not the way a girl- a woman-- should be held!”
„How would I know?!” she finally exploded, her emotions pushed forward because of Jason’s obliviousness.
„What do you mean--?”
„I never slow danced!”
‘Never?” now that was shocking. Yes, they rarely dwelt in the past, especially the time frame in which Jason was absent, but how come he never knew about that?! shit, what else did she missed from the teenage/young adult years? And how the fudge he didn’t make it right yet?!
‘Do you want me to spell it out for you?” she rolled her eyes stopping the movie „N-E-V-E-R”
„you’re right it’s a five letter word. One of the most commonly used in English. But to me, in this context, it doesn’t make any sense.” he grabbed her hands pulling her forward to him and looking straight into her eyes, smirking. „That’s bullshit and I won’t be fooled.”
„You’re being fooled by not being fooled.”
„Huh?” damn that girl had some twisted logic on her. „the hell does that mean?”
„It means I’m telling the truth.” she blushed slightly despite her best effort to act cool. It was a bit embarrassing to admit to her boyfriend that she lacked in the experiences of youth.
„No shit!” he laughed
„This is not funny!”
„This is plenty funny!”
„Oh, like you slowed danced before!”
„I didn’t get to go to prom, cause as you might have noticed I’ve been dead at the time--’
„Like I could ever forget that.” she rolled her eyes in annoyance to cover up for the heartache she felt at the memory.
„- I did slow dance.”
„What now?! With who!? Cause definitely not with me!”
„Is someone jealous now?” Jason leaned forward
„You wish Todd!”
„Jealousy is a bad trait, you know. I’d advice you to stop it baby...”
„Or what?”
‘Or I might have to actually help you enrich your experience.”
„Oh really, and how --?”
That sentence was cut by a involuntary squeak as Jason pulled her to her feet, almost causing the girl to crash with his hard chest due to the force.
„Shit, sorry Y/N. Forgot how tiny and light you are.”
„I am--”
„Sh.” the tone of his voice and the gesture of putting his finger to her lips definitely couldn't stand opposition.  „don’t you dare saying another word, I forbid you. You are tiny and light. And now, I’m going to make you feel like a fragile princess in the arms of a handsome and brave prince.”
One of his hand found a way to her waist, the other to her shoulder blades, grabbing her firmly but delicately. For some crazy reason she actually did feel secure and loved in his hands. Like nothing wrong could happen as long as she was held like this.
As long as his eyes were focused solely on her.
And it was both terrifying and wonderful experience.
„You can touch me, you know. It’s not like you haven’t done it before....” Jason chuckled at the way her hands hung awkwardly by her sides
„You’re ruining the moment, dipshit!”
„You’re the one using invectives baby. Don’t get any silly ideas in your head. You’re not going anywhere. Not until you get that slow dance.”
‘I’m make-up-less and wearing sweatpants.”
„And you’re still the prettiest girl in the world ”
„We don’t have any music.” she objected almost causing Jason to groan.
„Here.” he grabbed her hand and put it to his heart „feel that rhythm?” she nodded „good. Very good. Now this is the only sound you should be focusing on. Cause it resounds for you. You hear me, Y/N?”
„I hear you....” she whispered
„It’s only for you, baby.”
„i thought you weren’t romantic....” his grip on her tightened as he pulled her closer to him, swaying gently right and left, their feet barely moving, but it was still considered slow-dancing for them.
„I’m not. But I can be for you....” he muttered against her hair, planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head „You even made me dance, which is enough of a sign that I’ll do anything for you. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
„Can you just be yourself? The guy I fell for?”
„I suppose that can be arranged.” he smiled, even though she couldn’t see it with her face pressed to his chest.
And they would stay in this silence, moving to their own song for much longer if it wasn’t for their cat jumping on the couch, right on the pilot, and resuming the movie on the prom dance performance.  
Giving Y/N and Jason a chance to put that scene into reality and adapting it into her their lives.
First time.
With many more to come.
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wosoamazing · 2 months
Text
Barça v Arsenal
Summary: Based on a request I can’t find, someone wanted a Barça x Arsenal match for the series.
Warnings: Start of a panic attack but doesn't actually happen. Mentions of pregnancy and I guess morning sickness
A/N: Match is fake obviously - trying to find some happiness in Lia’s injury….. Also it’s quite short and not the best but at least it is something.
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You were pacing the length of the locker room, trying to shake the fact that you were about to verse your third family, Arsenal, with the hopes of pummeling them. “Can you stop you’re making me nervous,” someone commented, you were too in your head to know who it was, “no,” you bluntly replied while still pacing, you felt the fear start to rise though as your heart rate increased ever so slightly and it was becoming slightly harder to breath.
“Okay everyone it’s probably time to warm up, Y/N/N and I will meet you all out there” Alexia instructed the team.
“Bebita,” she waited but didn’t get a response, “Y/N/N it’s going to be okay,” “but what if its not, we have to beat them, I have-” you were stopped by Alexia who pulled you in for a hug, “Stop rambling, you will be fine. You are amazing, you’re going to show them all up, Sì?” “Sì”
_____
The game is going well, well better that well. Barça is 6 goals up and there is still 30 mins left in the game, you won a 1v1 with Leah and smirked at her “Guess I am the better Williamson now,” “We’ll see about that”
In the 89th minute you had a perfect opportunity, you kicked the ball, and it went through Leah’s legs before it found the back of the net.
“You just nutmegged me” you just shrugged as you walked away, “oh what don't even celebrate goals now?” “Nah score to many of them,” you smirk back to your sister, before the ref blew the whistle. 
At that moment Leah really expected you to go to her first, she was just right there and you hadn’t seen each other in so long, but you didn't you sprinted over to Alexia and sprung into her arms, she caught you with ease, like it was something that you do often, spinning you around before she put you down.
Lia walked over to stand behind your sister who was standing with Beth, Steph, and Viv, she was looking over at you though. Lia wrapped her arms around Leah’s waist, before whispering something to her, “She’ll come over, just give her a moment, and it’s good she isn’t coming over straight away, it means she really does like it there, I mean look at them all.” Leah nodded, she knew her girlfriend was right, but she still couldn’t help the feeling that she had been replaced by Alexia.
“Brace for impact” Leah looked at Steph as she saw you running over, you jumped up on Steph.
“I think you’re getting too big for that now,” “Nah, I’m not even an adult yet.” You wake around to Leah and she wrapped her arms around you. “I missed you,” “I missed you too bug, but we get to spend tonight and tomorrow together,” you nodded, before turning around in her arms, so you could face the others.
“You were amazing today,” Steph said “Thanks, I miss you all.” “We miss you too, you know-” “Shit kid you’re insane, you literally are amazing” Katie said as she ran over to join you all. 
“I’m just going to go check on Lia, you keep talking, I’ll come get you when it’s time to leave” Your sister told you quietly, you nodded before you looked over to see Lia, she was heading down the tunnel.
_____
“Y/N, ready to go?” Leah eyes you up and down, “Um, I’ll have a shower at home,” You had been so busy talking to everyone you hadn’t had time to have a shower and change.
“Okay, Lia is already in the car, so just meet us there, because I’m assuming you have to go return someone” she gestured to Harper who you had held in your arms, you nodded before going your separate ways, you followed Mini and Kyra to their car and put Harper in her carseat, before walking over to to where Leah and Lia were sitting in the car. As you opened the door you noticed Lia looked a little pale and almost as if she had been crying. She held onto her water bottle tightly. You were slightly confused, as she seemed fine earlier, but maybe it was due to whatever injury she had.
“You know bug, you would be a fantastic aunt,” Leah let slip as she started the car.
“Huh,” you saw Lia give your sister a mixed look, you weren't really sure what it was communicating, but you figured out pretty quickly what was going on “Wait, no, really?” your voice got embarrassingly higher with each word.
“Yes Bug really, but you can’t tell anyone, we hadn’t planned to tell you today but I mean you probably would’ve figured it out, considering I’m not actually injured, plus the sickness.” Lia responded to you, it now made sense why she looked like she did when you got in the car, “But Bug, you have to promise not to tell anyone. No one else knows, we only got the results back from the clinic yesterday,” your sister added.
“I promise I won’t, but I’m so excited for you both, you’re going to be great Mums. Also I’m sorry for making you wait for me, I just-” “it’s okay, don’t worry, I’m just glad you got to see everyone and that we get to spend time together”
“Can we name the baby Y/N?” 
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saintsenara · 1 month
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Riddle’s extremely fearful and aggressive reaction to Dumbledore when he thinks he’s a doctor (and the fact that he assumes this at all and believes he is being lied to) has some pretty dark implications (which of course no one follows up on). Do you have thoughts?
thank you very much for the ask, anon!
and yes - this has occurred to me too... which means that my thoughts come with a trigger warning for the sexual abuse of a child, and are under the cut.
the relevant scene in canon is, of course, this:
“I am Professor Dumbledore.” “Professor?” repeated Riddle. He looked wary. “Is that like doctor? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?”  He was pointing at the door through which Mrs. Cole had just left. “No, no,” said Dumbledore, smiling.  “I don’t believe you,” said Riddle. “She wants me looked at, doesn’t she? Tell the truth!”  He spoke the last three words with a ringing force that was almost shocking. It was a command, and it sounded as though he had given it many times before. His eyes had widened and he was glaring at Dumbledore, who made no response except to continue smiling pleasantly. After a few seconds Riddle stopped glaring, though he looked, if anything, warier still. “Who are you?” “I have told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school - your new school, if you would like to come.”  Riddle’s reaction to this was most surprising. He leapt from the bed and backed away from Dumbledore, looking furious.  “You can’t kid me! The asylum, that’s where you’re from, isn’t it? ‘Professor,’ yes, of course - well, I’m not going, see? That old cat’s the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they’ll tell you!”
the surface-level reading of this scene - which is clearly what the text wants us to go for - is that riddle thinks he's about to be institutionalised for being "mad" - and, specifically, that he thinks that what dumbledore has been told is his "madness" is actually his magic.
[he is also clearly meant to be read as panicking a little bit that he's fucked around torturing his fellow children and is now about to find out...]
that riddle accepts he's a wizard so easily - and that he is so reassured by dumbledore agreeing that he's not mad - is something the text wants us to read as sinister. him immediately describing himself as "special" is set up as a precursor to the adult voldemort's delusions of grandeur - which the entire arc of the series, ending in his death as an ordinary man, is designed to undermine.
but i've always disliked this reading. the eleven-year-old riddle - a magical child raised around non-magical people - is objectively correct to describe his powers as "special" [in that they make him identifiably different from the crowd] within the context in which he lives. the word choice is nowhere near as deep as dumbledore decides - he's clearly known since he was very young that he's a wizard, but he didn't have the precise language to describe this fundamental part of himself until dumbledore offered it; prior to that, "special" is a perfectly reasonable alternative term.
and, in always knowing that he's a wizard, he also knows that he doesn't have a mental illness - but he must also know that this is something it's near impossible for him to prove.
in the real world, if i spoke to a patient who told me:
“I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to.”
then i would be correct to describe them as experiencing psychosis. and i might - depending on their other symptoms - have reasonable cause to admit them [voluntarily or not] for psychiatric treatment.
riddle is - of course - demonstrably not psychotic. but it's not unreasonable that mrs cole would assume he is - the world she lives in, as a muggle [even if she's a religious one], is one in which people do not possess the ability to move objects or control animals with their minds, and if one of her charges is convinced that he can, then she's justified in seeking medical intervention.
[that psychiatric treatment in the 1930s can be described without exaggeration as inhumane is another matter...]
which is to say, i think we can easily suppose that mrs cole has - prior to dumbledore's arrival - succeeded in having riddle "looked at", and that the idea that he's mentally ill and should be committed to an asylum has been mentioned before. i think most of us would be instinctively [and angrily] wary of doctors if this happened to us, regardless of how nice the doctors in question were.
and maybe that's all there is to it.
and maybe it isn't...
in the doylist text, the eleven-year-old riddle's personality is the way it is because he's the villain of the series. where harry is preternaturally capable, even as a child, of all the things the series defines as admirable - above all, enduring difficulty without complaint - riddle is preternaturally incapable of them. he's meant to come across as unambiguously sinister - and the fact that the text repeatedly emphasises that he has control over his unpleasant traits invites us to view him as someone who is acting with full agency. that he lives in an orphanage is a trope which the text uses, like a campy horror film might, predominately to underscore how creepy he is - and the text, in keeping with its general lack of interest in states and their institutions, never really prompts us to interrogate the impact of his childhood upon the course his life takes.
[this is despite the fact that voldemort's reliving of the night he killed the potters in deathly hallows is an incredibly accurate depiction of ptsd...]
but it's also the case that the eleven-year-old riddle's behaviour and personality fits a pattern we might expect to see in a child who is being abused, sexually or otherwise:
he's aggressive, he has a hair-trigger temper, and he becomes distressed even by behaviour - such as dumbledore speaking mildly and calmly - which would not ordinarily be expected to provoke such a reaction.
his broader emotional state is fractious. his mood changes sharply, he seems to feel emotions very profoundly, he struggles to control his emotional response to things, he's extremely easily irritated, he's attention-seeking - and he particularly seeks negative attention, and he's very highly-strung. his admission in deathly hallows that he feels calm before he kills - or before he otherwise eradicates a threat or a problem - comes with the flip-side that he's someone who appears, when things aren't going well or he finds himself in a situation which he can't control, to become quite anxious. which is a trauma response.
he's extremely isolated. the text presents the fact that he has no friends as a deliberate choice - "lord voldemort has never had a friend, nor do i believe that he has ever wanted one" - and his relationship with everyone else he ever meets, including his fellow orphans, is defined by the text as exclusively involving him controlling, manipulating, and punishing them. or: he is always the more powerful person in the pairing. but this need for control can be read as self-protective just as easily as it can be read as sinister. there are hints in canon that riddle is not just some malevolent force in the orphanage preying on mild-mannered innocents. for example, billy stubbs, the owner of the rabbit he kills, is targeted by riddle as revenge: “Billy Stubbs’s rabbit... well, Tom said he didn’t do it and I don’t see how he could have done, but even so, it didn’t hang itself from the rafters, did it? [...] But I’m jiggered if I know how he got up there to do it. All I know is he and Billy had argued the day before." on the rare occasions billy turns up in fics, he's usually - i find - written very like neville - sweet and guileless and a bit pathetic. but the alternative reading - especially when we take into account that riddle attacks the rabbit rather than billy himself - is that billy is someone he would be afraid to physically confront. indeed, it's striking that voldemort - at all stages of his life - is described as being quite physically fragile. not only is he very thin, but he's always cold and his heartbeat is described several times in canon as irregular. i think this is supposed to be a comment on the physical changes he undergoes the more horcruxes he makes - although the idea that the soul would affect the heart doesn't actually align with how the series understands the soul to relate to the body - but it can also be interpreted perfectly legitimately as something he was experiencing prior to splitting his soul. i am committed to the headcanon that riddle was quite a sickly child - and that this is one of the things which drives his fear of death - and i'm also committed to the idea that his obsession with magic is because the enormity of his magical power makes up for his physical lack. he can defeat - and humiliate and frighten and remove the threat of - billy or dennis [or even an adult man?] with magic. without it, if they were to physically overpower him, then he wouldn't be able to throw them off.
he is extremely nervous about being alone in a room with dumbledore - someone he doesn't know, and who he assumes is connected to a profession [and, maybe, who knows any other doctors he's been previously made to see...] of which he is frightened.
he doesn't trust or confide in anyone - which, as a child, means particularly that he doesn't trust or confide in adults in positions of responsibility. he's clearly uneasy with the idea of finding himself in the subordinate position in an adult-child relationship when dumbledore offers to take him shopping for school supplies - potentially because he's worried that dumbledore will try and dictate or restrict what he's allowed to buy unless he behaves in a certain way... and i am always very struck that dumbledore says in half-blood prince: "He was very guarded with me; he felt, I am sure, that in the thrill of discovering his true identity he had told me a little too much. He was careful never to reveal as much again." this is presented in the text as evidence that dumbledore is the only person of whom voldemort is afraid - by which the text means that voldemort acknowledges that dumbledore knows that an ordinary man, mortal and unimpressive, lurks behind the mask of unassailable power he has created for himself; and which the text thinks is a good thing. but we can also read it as a self-protective act on riddle's part. in his excitement, he offers dumbledore information [that he is known to be a liar, that he is in trouble a lot, that mrs cole dislikes him and is disinclined to believe anything he says] which would give dumbledore - or anyone in a similar position of power and presumed respectability - cover to abuse him, safe in the knowledge that he would be unlikely to be believed if he reported it.
he doesn't appear to feel safe in the orphanage and he's frequently absent from it - by his own admission, he spends a huge amount of time wandering around london on his own, which may even involve him staying away for several days at a time. nobody appears to notice or care about this.
he's very independent - which the text again presents as evidence of his deliberate self-isolation and rejection of the bonds of love and friendship - and his independence is unusual for a child his age [i.e. that he is capable of doing all his own shopping for school].
his knowledge of violence - i.e. how he designs the trip to the cave to be maximally psychologically devastating for dennis and amy and devoid of repercussions for himself - is also more advanced and methodical than would be expected in a child of his age. again, the text uses this to emphasise how inextricable the child-voldemort is from his adult self - and also, to some extent, to underscore the intellectual brilliance [his magic is also more advanced than is normal for a child] which his narrative archetype [the exceptional villain who is defeated by the everyman hero] requires. but we can also read it as evidence of his own victimisation. a common sign that a child is being sexually abused is that they display a knowledge of sexual behaviour which is more advanced than is reasonable for a child of their age - for example, knowing in detail how a sex act is performed, or fluently using sexual slang which they have no chance of knowing either from age-appropriate settings like school-based sex education or conversations with a parent or trusted adult, or from the sort of enthusiastic hoarding of rude words and phrases all children enjoy as they grow up. riddle's precise, clinical knowledge of how to manipulate, frighten, torture, and control can be seen as something similar. if he can - at eleven or younger - methodically break down another child until they're "never quite right" again, then this is because he's learned how to from someone.
he keeps secrets. and he also goes out of his way to extract them. his grooming of ginny in chamber of secrets - he manipulates her into confiding things she wants to keep to herself, promises he won't tell anyone, and then uses the threat that he will to get her to do his bidding - is an absolutely textbook example of how abusers use the idea of secrecy to control their victims. it doesn't make his abuse of ginny any less inexcusable if we assume he learns this from being on the other side of things.
dumbledore understands his little cache of objects as trophies he's taken from victims - and the text takes the view that dumbledore is correct in this assessment. that hoarding trophies is something widely associated with serial killers means that this is yet another thing which underlines how creepy - and how like his adult self - the child-voldemort is. but it's also the case that the adult - and teenage - voldemort places a lot of emphasis on gift-giving as part of his control over other people. the two most obvious examples in canon are wormtail being given his shiny hand as a reward for helping voldemort get his body back, and slughorn being buttered up with crystallised pineapple before voldemort asks him about horcruxes. the text thinks this is sinister - and one of the reasons it does this is because gift-giving is a grooming tactic. the text also clearly thinks this isn't behaviour voldemort has learned from the other side. and yet a common sign that a child is being abused is if they have possessions it doesn't make sense for them to own [i.e. a child from a low-income background who is suddenly decked in designer clothes] and which they can't or won't explain how they came by. riddle's cache isn't luxurious - although he's so poor that a yoyo or a mouth organ probably is a luxury to him - but there's also nothing in canon which precludes the objects being presents, rather than stolen goods. if the spell dumbledore uses to make the box rattle is caused by a statement which is both relatively ambiguous and dependent on dumbledore's subjective personal morality - is there anything in this room he's acquired through nefarious means? - then the spell would still work as it does in canon if riddle was an abuse victim given the objects as "rewards". dumbledore's tendency to locate right and wrong in the individual and dumbledore's belief that good people should steadfastly endure misery means he can be written entirely canon-coherently as someone who would think a victim who appeared to collude in their own abuse - such as a victim who "offered" a sexual act because their abuser promised them something if they did - was behaving consensually, manipulatively, and nefariously. and it's worth noting that when riddle doesn't know what dumbledore has done to make the box rattle, he is "unnerved". when he realises dumbledore thinks he's stolen the objects - and that he has no interest in forcing him to admit this aloud - he is "unabashed". perhaps because he's just received proof that an experience he doesn't want to talk about is still secret...
on the other hand, the objects could indeed be stolen - because petty criminality and anti-social behaviour, especially in pre-teen children, is also a sign of abuse.
he can be extremely obsequious - when dumbledore tells him to watch how he speaks he becomes "unrecognisably polite", he ruthlessly flatters slughorn, and he is cringingly deferential to hepzibah smith. the text understands this as evidence that his apparent charm is only superficial - another trait associated in the popular imagination with serial killers [and it's striking that so much about the young voldemort - handsome, charming, seemingly quiet and polite, true evil lurking underneath the mask - is exactly like the pop-culture persona which has been created for ted bundy...]. voldemort himself agrees that his charm is performative in chamber of secrets: “If I say it myself, Harry, I’ve always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted." but his obsequiousness is also a fawn response - a way of minimising a threat by attempting to please the person issuing it. he becomes "unrecognisably polite" - after all - in response to this: Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts - ” “Of course I am!” “Then you will address me as ‘Professor’ or ‘sir.’ ”  Riddle’s expression hardened for the most fleeting moment before he said, in an unrecognisably polite voice, “I’m sorry, sir. I meant - please, Professor, could you show me - ?”  riddle could reasonably interpret what dumbledore says here as a threat to prevent him attending hogwarts - even though dumbledore evidently doesn't mean it in this way - and he switches to being fawning because this is something he really doesn't want to happen...
do i think that any of this is what the text was actually going for? no. and nor do i think that reading riddle as a victim of abuse excuses the violence which the adult voldemort goes on to perpetuate.
but i think it is a reading of his characterisation which is both canon-plausible and interesting - a strange, sickly child with a reputation for cruelty and dishonesty being abused by the respectable doctor who is constantly called in to treat his coughs and wheezes, who buys him little presents and charms him into telling him secrets, who then [to paraphrase the teenage voldemort] feeds him a few secrets of his own, safe in the knowledge that nobody will ever believe him if he tries to get help.
and i also think this a reading which is sincerely important.
a significant contributor to the prevalence of child abuse - no matter what exact form this abuse takes - is that we are culturally conditioned to imagine that both the abuser and the victim will look and behave in a certain way if the abuse is "real".
and this means, all too often, that we take child abuse more seriously when the victim is "sympathetic" - when they're from a stable home, and their family are respectable, and they do well in school, and they're polite and sweet, and they look innocent, and they behave perfectly appropriately for their age, and nobody would ever dare to say that they come across as older than they are, and they're white, and they don't have a history of lying, and they don't have a history of attention-seeking, and they don't have a criminal record, and they're not abusive themselves, and there's absolutely no way of suggesting that they colluded in their abuse, and the perpetrator was someone who looks like a child abuser.
someone who is creepy, low-status, ugly, unpopular. someone who everyone can tell is socially abnormal, someone who nobody would ever intentionally permit to be around their children. not someone who is charming, well-respected, attractive, rich, popular, trustworthy. not someone who has a loving family and a happy home. not someone we might be friends with.
but many perpetrators of child abuse are these second group of people. and many victims of child abuse are "unsympathetic", when their social positions and reputations are compared to their abusers' own.
they lie. they steal. they're attention-seeking. they're vindictive. they have trouble distinguishing between imagination and reality. they're violent. they're bullies. they hurt animals. they abuse other children. they take drugs. they're mentally-ill. they come from broken homes. they're in the care of the state. they're dirty. they're poor. they're odd. they're behind at school and badly-behaved in the classroom. they do things which allow their abuse to be dismissed as something they brought upon themselves - they speak or dress in certain ways, they pose provocatively in pictures and post them on the internet, they are known to be sexually active outside of the context of their abuse, they lie about being over the age of consent, they engage in sexual behaviour with an adult abuser in a way which appears [even though it isn't, and there's never a circumstance in which it will be] to be consensual or for their own personal gain, they are flattered by the attention they receive from someone who is important or attractive grooming them, they have complicated - and not always wholly negative - feelings towards their abusers.
and they are still - unequivocally - victims, and what happens to them is still - unequivocally - abuse.
tom riddle is an unsympathetic victim - not only of any potential abuse, but also of the horrors of his life which are explicit on the canon page: that he is raised in an orphanage; that he is grieving; that he knows nothing about his family; that he is thought to be mad.
the absence of any institutional response to his childhood experiences - dumbledore, by his own admission, discloses nothing about riddle to his fellow teachers - is a flaw repeated again and again in the worldbuilding of the harry potter series.
hogwarts - and the wizarding [and muggle] state more broadly - doesn't intervene in any case of neglect or abuse, from harry to snape to voldemort's own parents. the series' individualistic morality means that we aren't supposed to interrogate these collective failings. and the series' black-and-white view of good and evil - and its general belief that violence is fine if the person it happens to "deserves" it - means that it has no interest in examining the ways that poverty, isolation, and neglect are risk factors; that straightforwardly unpleasant people can still be victims; that victims can go on to become perpetrators without their victimhood ceasing to matter; and that the abuse of children usually takes place not in silence and secrecy, concealed in ways which make it fine for adults not to notice it and not to intervene, but in plain sight.
this is knowledge it never hurts to refresh. thinking about lord voldemort's childhood might be an usual way of doing so... but it is an effective one nonetheless...
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comicwritesstuff · 7 months
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Vanessa Shelly/Afton x Fem!Reader
Reader is drunk and breaks into Freddys, Vanessa lets them off with a warning, but of course we have to go back and see the hot officer ;) 2k+ words SMUT BTW
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18+ WARNINGSSS
Warnings: Dom!Vanessa, Sub!reader, lots of degrading, angry Vanessa, punishment sorta, a little bdsm, alcohol, fingering, getting eaten out and cursing.
Being 25 means having mid life crisis almost every day. And when your surprisingly fit, like to drink and really fucking stupid then the best thing to do is break into, and explore abandoned buildings. So that's what I’m doing. After drinking a whole bottle of wine and driving around like the responsible adult I am, I stumble upon a magnificent building. 
“Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria”, I snicker at the name and park super well (on the curb). I wattle my drunk ass around the building looking for a quick way in, I see a window and try to open it, after a couple minutes it finally budges, I open it and climb inside, falling on the dust filled floor. I giggle a bit then stand back up, just my luck I see a flashlight on the ground so I pick it up, smacking it a bit before it turns back on. Fun. I walk around, shining the flashlight at the various cobweb filled objects. I was to preoccupied on the spider crawling across the floor to hear the police officer that just walked into the building, I sprint out of the room that the spider was in, I fucking hate spiders. Apparently I caught the officer's attention after I sprinted across the room she was in, somehow not seeing her until she shouted at me. “Hey! Stop you're trespassing!” I don’t know what made me run faster, the thought of the spider, or the officer. A bit of both.
I run through the halls pausing looking around for somewhere to go, I see the doors to the kitchen so I slam the doors open, and shriek. There was a giant ass chicken, and I didn’t know if I was seeing it cause I was drunk but I really wasn’t in the mood to risk it. “AH WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT” Unforunately the officer was now right behind me, I didn’t realize that so when I went to run away again, she grabbed me. Ah shit. What a great night. 
“Why do you care about me, not the big ass chicken in the kitchen? Oh hey that rhymes.” I laughed at my joke, while the cop raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you drunk?” I look at the officer a little clearer, damn she's hot. “No I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” She stares at me for a second then looks away, trying not to laugh at me, she pulls me back up and holds tightly onto my arm while dragging me out of the building. I should really be putting more thought into the giant duck I just saw but all I can think about is the really pretty police woman holding my arm. 
It’s not until we get outside that I remember I'm really not in a good position to get arrested right now, so maybe I should stop admiring the police officer and make a run for it, while my drunk self tries to make up a plan of escape, I glance at her once more. Yeah, I'm gonna stay with her. She opens the side door to her cop car, motioning for me to sit in the car. She still holds the door open, and sighs. “Look, I can tell you weren’t really trying to start anything bad, you're just insanely drunk. So, I’ll let you off with a warning. If I ever see you come back here, drunk or not, I won’t hesitate to arrest your ass for trespassing, or a worse punishment.” I stare at her blankly, it takes me a couple seconds to process what she said. “So you're not arresting me?” She pinches the bridge of her nose before closing the door without saying anything. She walks around and gets in the front starting to drive, “Do you know your address.” I grin and nod, telling her my address. I started laughing a little bit, for no reason I just felt like laughing. I look back up at her and see her looking at me in the rearview mirror. She's got that look like she’s trying not to laugh at me but it's clearly not working. 
“So officer what's your name?” “Vanessa.” “Thas a really prettttty name.” I say slurring my words and giggling more. She glances at me again through the mirror, not saying anything, just grinning. “So how much did you drink exactly?” How much did I drink? I don’t remember so I answer the best I can. “Yes.” I hear her sigh while I’m looking at the raindrops on the window. “Yes? That's your best answer for how much you drank? Jesus you’re really drunk.” I whip my head around frustrated. “How many times do I need to tell you? I’m y/n not these names you keep calling me” I say in an angry tone. I see her bite her lip, grinning even more, clearly trying with all her might not to laugh at me. She composes herself before glaring at me through the mirror. “Don’t use that tone with me, I can still arrest you.” That was hot anyways, oh hey that's my house. “How’d you know my address?” I am baffled as she gets out of the car without answering me. She pulls me out of her cop car dragging me to my doorstep. “Open the door.” She tells me sternly, so I open it quickly. She follows me inside my house, looking around and taking the last bottle of wine I have left without me noticing. I see my couch and go to sit down then I decide to just flop down, I immediately fall asleep. Vanessa hears the plop sound of me passing out on my couch and smirks, walking over she finds a blanket, laying it over me. She does one last search for any more alcohol then finally leaves. 
I wake up with the worst headache ever, I stumble into my kitchen quickly chugging like 3 glasses of water before I notice the note on the counter. “No more drinking, don’t go back to Freddy’s. I drove your car back to your house. I took the rest of your alcohol and left your keys on the counter, take care. -Officer Vanessa”. Oh so that wasn’t some weird porno dream without the porn part about a cop. Staring at the note I decide to do the sensible thing that any person would do, go back to Freddy’s, even with a bad headache. Since she took my alcohol I'm going sober, and with the one brain cell I have sober I grab a flashlight this time. I also grab a hammer (for some reason??). I grab the keys and hop into my car, then I see another note there. “Don’t do it.” That's all the note said, she knew me for an hour and she already knows what i’m planning on doing, well she is a cop. I drove to Freddys, there isn’t a cop car, she probably forgot about me. 
I park in the front and go up to the building. It would be so cool to get on the roof. And so that's what I do, with my flashlight in my bra and the hammer in my mouth so I can climb easier. It was surprisingly easy to get up there. So I sit on the edge of it, swinging my feet waiting patiently for Vanessa to show up. It actually takes a lot longer than I wanted it to, I’m laying on the edge now, on my back staring at the sky. I only sit up once I hear the sound of tires pulling into the parking lot. Oh shit, she’s here. Well, I mean I wanted her to show up, so what did I expect? Vanessa slams her car door shut, and I mean slam, like she is pissed and it's obvious. She walks underneath where I’m sitting, looking up at me. “Get. The. Fuck. Down.” My face turns pale, ohh im fucked, and turned on. “Make me.” She cocks her head, before angrily smirking and with little to no effort, climbing to the top, I stare at her dumbfounded. She walks up to me, pulling out her gun pressing it into my stomach, hard. With her other hand she grabs the collar of my shirt. She pulls me off the edge, I gasp and stumble a bit, I didn’t really expect her to be THIS aggressive. “Climb down, if you run, I will shoot you.” I climbed down and waited at the bottom, I wasn’t in the mood to be shot. Once Vanessa got down she pressed the gun against my hip, standing behind me, she wrapped her other hand around the back of my neck, digging her nails into me. I whimper feeling her nails in my skin, she smirks as I do so. Walking me to her car, she slams me against the car, knocking the breath out of me, she handcuffs me before shoving me into the front seat. 
That's odd, I thought criminals sat in the back. Vanessa gets in the driver's seat, slamming the door shut again, but not driving. Her knuckles are turning white from how hard she's grabbing the steering wheel. “Why are you so upset? I didn’t do anything.” I say not looking at her, honestly a little scared. “One because I told you to do one simple fucking thing, and you didn’t listen did you?” I don't say anything. “That's right, and two you don’t know how dangerous that place is, I was trying to protect you and you have to come back out here like the brat you fucking are.” I gulp, my heart racing. To be honest I'm hella ashamed at how wet I am just from her being mean to me. I can feel her staring dead at me, but all of a sudden I just can’t bring myself to look at her. I'm praying that my face isn’t as red as I think it is. “Hah, are you really turned on by this?” She teases, well shit, I guess I am that red. “No! I'm not I..I swear.” The most obvious lie I think I’ve said. “Sure.” She says, finally starting to drive. It’s completely quiet in the car. Suddenly I feel Vanessa move her hand to my thigh and move it painfully slowly towards my core. I freeze up, I can instantly feel me soaking through my underwear. Vanessa moves her hand up sliding it into my pants and over my panties. She teasingly only puts one finger on my clit, before slowly starting to put pressure on it. “You should have stayed home brat.” She starts rubbing my clit with the same annoyingly soft pressure as before, I let out a soft whimper, I struggle a bit in the handcuffs, fuck, I can’t even move my arms since they are behind my fucking back. “But you're such an attention whore, huh?” She increases the pressure only a bit, rubbing at the same agonizing pace. I glance at her, she hasn’t taken her eyes off the road once, and she’s purposefully driving slow. 
She keeps that same pace for a couple minutes, before I can’t take it anymore. “Vanessa…please..” I say whiningly. “Not so cocky anymore? To busy wanting me to fuck you?” My cheeks heat up with embarrassment. To my surprise she slides her fingers past my panties, shoving two fingers inside me, causing me to buck my hips, and moan. “Look at you, so desperate for me like the little slut you are.” She curls her fingers, thrusting them rapidly, the only sounds in the car are my moans and whimpers that are embarrassingly loud. “I love all the pretty little sounds you're making for me baby, being such a good bitch.” Arching my back, I feel my climax already building up. “Nessa, I…I’m gonna cum..” I mutter, barely able to say anything before she swiftly pulls her fingers out of my pants, licking them clean and putting her hand back on the steering wheel. There's nothing I can do except sit there, and wait for her to do something again, I can’t move my hands, and rubbing my legs together isn’t enough friction, besides if I tried that I’m sure she’d shut it down real quick. Her gaze stays on the road, not bothering to look at me once, even when we stop. From Freddy’s it takes about 20 minutes to get to my house, so I had to wait 5 more minutes before we pulled into my driveway. I couldn’t tell if she was purposefully doing things slowly, or if it felt slow because of how desperately i wanted her to fuck me. Either way, once she finally got to my side of the car she opened my door and grabbed the collar of my shirt again, lifting me out of the car then pulling me to the door. She reaches into my pants pocket grabbing my key and unlocking the door, after we both get inside, Vanessa immediately pulls me into a kiss, her lips slamming onto mine with an unholy amount of lust. 
God, all I wanted was to wrap my arms around her neck, anything to deepen the kiss but the handcuffs stayed on, she pulled me to my bedroom, how did she know where it was? I don't know but frankly, I don’t care right now. Vanessa throws me on my bed, crawling on top of me. She starts leaving hickeys all over my jaw, and my neck. “I want people to know how much of a slut you are, baby.” Chills go down my back as she slowly traces her fingers down to my pants, before I lift my hips so she can slide them off. She starts leaving kisses on my inner thigh before she uses her teeth to pull my underwear down to my thighs, using her hands to get them off the rest of the way. “Be a good whore and keep your legs spread wide for me, can you do that baby?” I whine, nodding. “Yes Nessie”.
“Good girl.” She says before she quickly starts licking and sucking on my clit. At first not too fast, and Vanessa was planning on going slowly before she got a taste, then even she couldn’t resist it. Picking up the pace, she keeps sucking on my clit before curling two fingers inside my folds. How fast she's going catches me off guard, I arch my back, moaning loudly, I bite my lip trying not to be as loud as I was, not wanting anyone to hear us. As I become more quiet, Vanessa slows down. “Uh uh baby, I want to hear all the sounds you're making for me, or I'm not gonna let you cum again.” I whimper in protest but nod anyway as she now speeds up even more. She shoves another finger inside my tight pussy, curling them and hitting my sweet spot perfectly every time, and I listen to what she says and let out all the moans and whimpers I can, not caring how loud I'm being. “Fuck, V-vanessa Im cumming” “No your not. Not until I say.” She thrusts her fingers even harder and faster than before, I can barely hold it. “Fuck please Vanessa!” I shout at her in desperation, she doesn’t say anything for a couple seconds, the pain of holding it back getting to me as a few tears run down my cheeks. “Cum for me, my little slut.” And with one more curl of her fingers, I come harder than I have before, she lets me ride out the orgasm a little bit before licking my cunt clean. 
“You did so good for me, love.” She leans up, kissing me softly and wiping the few tears from my face. “Can you sit up for me baby so I can uncuff you?” I listen to her, already exhausted from the little she’s done to me, to be far I haven’t even had sex in a couple of years, let alone an orgasm that hard. After she uncuffs me, she grabs my blanket, covering the both of us as I cuddle into her chest, quickly falling asleep. 
THANKS FOR READING HOPE U LIKED IT :)
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starlitmark · 4 months
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Summary: Both being in the NSFW content creation sphere, you and Yunho find a mutually beneficial piece of content to film. Pairing: NSFW Audio Creator!Yunho x Only Fans Creator!reader Tropes: Adult Content creator au, friends with benefits au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, the reader is smaller than Yunho by a good amount Smut Warnings: recorded sex, blindfolding, auralism, protected sex, implications of a hand kink, use of the name “daddy”, pet names, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, ripping clothing Word Count: 2,416 Host Tag: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye February Filth Masterlist Before You Interact
Listen to ♡ Often by The Weekend
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“You’re sure you’re not going to get kidnapped?” Yeri checks for the tenth time.
“I’m sure!” You laugh, “This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve talked with him before, too, several times. You know Yunho and I are friends.”
Yeri’s jaw falls to the floor. You meet her eyes through your mirror after you finish fixing your makeup. You look at her as if you’ve just said the most mundane sentence in the world. On the other hand, she looks as if you just told her you’re not actually who you told her you are.
“You mean to tell me–”
“I haven’t fucked him. Not in the literal sense, at least.” You explain, “We’ve fucked around in DMs before a few times but nothing in person yet. We’re genuinely friends, too, it’s not just about our jobs. He’s seen me. I’ve seen him. We’re both being safe. Now go back to your own apartment unless you want to witness something you probably don’t want to.”
She shakes her head and scrunches her nose. You laugh at her action and start walking her toward your front door. You start to pull your door open to let her out when she starts to sound like a broken record.
“Seriously, if you think he might–”
She’s cut off by someone clearing their throat. She turns around, and you look up. He’s right in the doorway, looking devastatingly handsome. Yeri buttons her lip and slips past him. You bid her goodbye as she’s already halfway to the elevator.
“Come on in.” You smile at the tall man, moving to let him in.
“It’s nice to see you in person finally.” He smiles
You nod, mouth suddenly dry, “I hope it wasn’t too bad of a trip here.”
“No,” he shakes his head, “It was actually really nice. It’s beautiful out.”
You’ve been friends online for a while now, and this sudden awkward tension is almost suffocating. Yunho smiles at you and takes your hand in his. You look at your connected hands before looking back up to his face. You’ve seen him before in pictures you exchanged in the past. Some of them are more distracting than others. Seeing him in person seems to create a whole new level of devastation for your panties and your heart at the same time.
He drops your hand and leans against a bookshelf at the edge of your entryway. He’s nearly the same height as it. You need a stool to reach the top shelf of it. Now you take in just how tall he is. You knew he was tall. Knowing a fact versus seeing it is so different. You already know his cock is big too. You’ve been blessed to see it several times. Your mind starts to wander to your activities planned for the afternoon.
“You okay?” Yunho’s eyes fill with concern, “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. We can just hang out.”
“No, no,” you chuckle, “I just forgot how… big you are…” You admit.
Yunho smirks as he leans over you while leaning against the bookshelves. You gulp at the sight.
“Did you, sweetheart?”
Fuck.
Your mouth goes dry again, trying to find a proper response. You knew damn well what the plan was walking into today. Both of you had planned out the entire scene in depth to ensure safety and quality content for your followers. Hearing his voice, seeing that stupidly hot smirk, everything about him renders you speechless.
“Sweetheart?” He calls again, “You still with me?”
You nod, “Just… thinking…”
“About?” He leans in close enough that you can feel his breath against your lips.
“We have a bit of content to film, and–” You stop yourself and stare at his lips for a moment.
“And?” He questions.
Your gaze stays fixated on his lips, “And… I fucking need you right now.”
Yunho doesn’t waste a moment closing the gap between you. The way he pulls you tight against him, combined with the heat of the kiss, makes your knees buckle. You stand there for a while, just kissing him. Your neck hurts a bit from stretching up to reach him, though you’re sure he is hurting more from craning down. By the time you pull away, your lips are puffy and wet with spit. His aren’t in much better condition; he has a bit of your lipgloss smeared near his own lips.
“Is your camera all set up?” He asks, his voice slightly raspier than earlier.
“Mm,” you hum, “You’re okay with your face being on camera?”
“We already talked about that.” He reminds you, “It’s okay. My face isn’t fully a secret to my audience.”
You take his hand in yours again and guide him toward your room. As you had told him before, your camera is already set up in front of your bed. You reach over and press record before you even say another word to him. As much as you’d love to get wrecked by him now, you know the goal is to get content. Your high-quality microphone is already connected and tested to ensure it gets the best recording it can. After all, it’s not just being uploaded to your Only Fans. The audio from today is being edited and uploaded to Yunho’s NSFW audio subscription as well. Short free clips are going to be posted on both of your Twitter accounts in addition to helping with the traction. Before you get in the view of the camera, you slip your shorts off from under your oversized T-shirt. Per the agreed-upon scene, you’re playing the role of his pretty little stay-at-home girlfriend and won’t be needing pants if you’re at home all day.
“You ready, princess?”
You know he’s put on his acting, but he still searches for any uncertainty in your eyes.
“I’m ready, Daddy.” you respond, voice sweet and needy.
Despite neither of you truly having a daddy kink, you both agreed to that title for Yunho to both protect his identity and play into the content you both know people want. You sit on the side of your bed and look up at him with wide, faux-innocent eyes. Yunho hums and leans down to cage you against the bed. One hand slips back a bit to grab a silk tie just behind you. He pulls it off of the bed and leans back a bit to hold it between you.
“We’re gonna play a little game, okay?”
You nod, “Will I get to feel you?”
“Oh, sweetheart, you’ll feel me. You just won’t see a damn thing.”
Yunho leans forward again and kisses you sloppily. The wet sounds of your kiss are enough to make you rub your thighs together. He, of course, notices it and grips your thigh with his other hand. Massaging the flesh, he pushes your oversized shirt up to expose your soaked panties. He guides you back further until you’re nearly laid down. He drops the tie just long enough to pull the shirt off of your body. You’re only left in your panties while he’s fully clothed. That doesn’t last long, though. He pulls his own shirt off. You appreciate his toned body and end up fixated on the noticeable bulge under his sweats. You gulp before meeting his eyes again.
“Can’t I suck you off for a bit? I wanna be a good girl for you.”
Yunho gives you an endearing smile, holding your chin in his hand, “That’s so sweet of you, baby. As much as Daddy would love that, I have other plans for us today. I’m gonna blindfold you now, okay? You know our cues.”
“Colors, if I can speak. If not, two taps for a break and three for a full stop.”
He kisses you again, “That’s my girl.”
It’s for the camera, you know that. Still, it doesn’t stop you from nearly melting at the praise. He takes the black silk tie and carefully secures it around your head, checking to make sure it’s not too loose or tight. You feel him guide you to lie down on your bed and push your thighs apart to be flat across the bed as well. Every sound sounds so vivid. The soft sound of his hands moving across the bedding, the gentle sounds of his breath by your ear, even the light creaking of your bed as he puts his full body weight on it. A gasp escapes your lips as he leaves more wet kisses along your throat. The noises he makes as he kisses you while letting his hands wander are enough to make your panties even more soaked than they previously were.
“You’re so jumpy, baby.” He chuckles, “Relax, let me make you feel good.”
“Daddy,” you whine, bucking your hips when his hand trails along your inner thigh.
“Yes, princess?”
You gasp when his kisses reach your chest, “Need–” 
You let out a broken whine when he wraps his lips around one of your nipples. His fingers lightly trail up and down your thighs, intentionally skipping over the place you need him most. Each time you buck your hips toward his touch, he lightly nips at your chest. The lack of vision only heightens your other senses more. Each time he so much as grazes your body, you jolt in reaction. Each word he says and each noise he makes sends you into another plane of existence.
You feel his body pull away from you, leaving behind a waft of his addictive scent. You feel as he pulls your panties to the side and strokes through your folds. The squelching sounds that come from your lower lips are loud. Each rub against your clit, each time his pretty, long fingers push into you, you feel yourself crave him more. He fucks you on his fingers for a while. His thumb presses perfectly against your clit while two of his other fingers thrust in and out of you at a pace that makes you see stars. His unoccupied hand holds one of your thighs down. His fingers dig into your skin in a way that may leave bruises, not that you mind at all.
“You hear that, sweetheart? You’re so fucking wet. What’s got you such a wreck? Hmm?”
“Daddy, I– fuck! Everything, it’s everything!”
“Everything? It’s how you keep whining and moaning while I finger your pretty little pussy, the way I’m speaking to you, the fact that you can’t see a damn thing. You’re at my mercy, sweetheart.”
You want to close your thighs so badly due to the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. A light slap on your thigh stops your action. A moment later, Yunho pulls his fingers from inside you, and you feel his weight lift off of the bed. The sound of foil ripping fills the space, followed by a low, growly groan. Though you can’t see it, you know Yunho kept his promise to put a condom on.
“Daddy,” your voice wavers with uncertainty.
You feel his hand rest against your waist, “It’s okay, princess. Daddy didn’t leave you all alone. I’m right here.”
The small gesture of reassurance makes your heart flutter for a brief moment. You feel the bed sink again and feel his bare skin against yours. He places a sweet kiss against your lips and whispers a quick check-in.
“You want Daddy to fuck you now?”
“Please, want Daddy’s cock, please.” You whine.
You feel the head of his cock rubs through your folds a few times before pushing in. Your panties are still pushed to the side, though they aren’t terribly in the way. Yunho continues to shower you with filthy comments and praises. Your hands fly forward and feel their way to his hair. Pulling him forward more, you pull him into another sloppy kiss. His thrusts are loud, and the squelching sound of your pussy is louder than it was with just his fingers. Your moans are muffled slightly by his kisses, but still, they’re loud. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it hard to know exactly what is happening.
“Wanna see you.” You request.
“My princess wants to see me now? I thought you liked not knowing what’s coming.” He teases.
“I- I do, but I wanna see Daddy now. Please?”
Yunho gives a particularly punctuated thrust, “Alright, princess, pick up your head a little, and I’ll take it off.”
You do as he says, and light floods your field of view a split second later. It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the light. Once they do, you’re met with the sight of Yunho above you, sat up straight on his knees as he thrusts into you. He has a heated, lust-driven look in his eyes that brings you closer to your orgasm.
“Are you attached to these panties, baby?”
You shake your head at his question. A moment later, the telltale sign of clothing ripping fills the room. You break eye contact for a moment to see that he ripped the seat of your panties and was seconds away from ripping the waistband, too. Yunho smirked at you and leaned in close to your ear.
“I’ll buy you a new pair later, or I’ll pay for you to get some new ones.”
“Daddy, wanna– gonna–”
You’re not on Earth anymore. Your mind is so far gone, lost in the obsession you’ve discovered you have with his voice and the filthy, debauched noises being created in the space. In all honesty, you didn’t even process what he just said to you. All you can think about is the fact that you’re mere moments from your orgasm.
“Pretty baby wants to cum?” He asks, gripping onto your now bare hips.
“Please,” small tears form in your eyes, “Please, please!”
Yunho smirks at you again, “Cum.”
Your orgasm rips through you, stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before. Yunho’s thrusts grow stronger and faster. As you ride out your high, he reaches his own. He releases his load into the condom with a loud groan. His eyebrows furrowed together while his eyes remain locked on your own. You both start to fall from cloud nine around the same moment. Yunho leans down to hover above you and places a small kiss against your collarbone.
“You did such a good job, pretty girl. I’m so proud of you.”
That last comment wasn’t for the camera. That was specifically for you.
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Text
Playing Nurse for the Batfam
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Artist: Norm Breyfogle
Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman is working tirelessly to find out who you are. What will you do when he finds you? What will he do?
Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)
Warning: Adult language, breaking in and entering
Word Count: 1.4k
Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 
Part One Part Three
Part Two: Job Opportunity
“Master Bruce, do you think there is a possibility that this manhunt of yours may be born out of paranoia? Or perhaps an injury-induced delirium?” Alfred asked, as Bruce manically typed information into the Batcomputer. 
“That’s the problem, Alfred. There are no injuries. None. She healed me. She saw my face.” Bruce’s low voice rumbled. 
“Only you, Master Bruce, would consider a lack of injuries a problem,” Alfred sardonically stated. “Are you quite sure it was a woman?”
Bruce didn’t bother with a verbal response. He merely gave a curt nod. The sound of the elevator pinging and the door opening did not budge Bruce’s concentration from the computer. 
“Bruce, I’m back from Commissioner Gordon’s. The fingerprint is a dud. There are no matches in the criminal database,” Dick said, jumping into a rolly chair and sliding very loudly over toward Bruce. 
“That narrows it down, only about 25% of women in Gotham don’t have any form of criminal record,” Bruce muttered out loud. He didn’t particularly care if anyone heard. It moreso was for his train of thought. Bruce continued typing furiously, “I’ll check it against the other databases.”
Dick spun aggressively in his chair, “You got that fingerprint off your suit, right? What about the mask that was left?”
“The mask had been unused and freshly opened. There were some traces of fingerprints on that but my blood made them nearly impossible to ascertain,” Bruce said flatly. Bruce’s computer flashed with an oncoming message from Barbara. 
[The street cam footage was shaky, but I got a general description. She is about __ tall, with __ hair, and __ skin. It also appears that she is wearing a medical uniform that is issued for Gotham General Hospital. You’re welcome, Babs.]
Dick leaned so close to the computer that his and Bruce’s cheeks touched, “Wow I didn’t realize you brought in the big gun Babs. You want this girl found.”
Bruce tried not to smile at the ridiculous boy, “She saw my identity, Dick.”
Dick inhaled sharply through his teeth, “What are you going to do when you find her?”
A few ideas popped into Bruce’s mind, not all of them were legal. 
“He hasn’t got a clue, Master Dick,” Alfred said, spawning behind the two men, holding a silver tray with a bowl of Lucky Charms on it for Dick and a large black coffee for Bruce. 
“Thank you, Alfred,” Dick said, taking the cereal, “I mean she saved your life, Bruce. She hasn’t told anyone your identity,” Dick said, feeling the odd need to defend this girl he has never met. 
“She could just be selling the information to the highest bidder,” Bruce said, sharply taking a glug of coffee. 
Dick held back from rolling his eyes. He looked at the monitor and stared at the girl. “She saved your life when she didn’t have to. I don’t think she would ruin it on a whim. Not every person is out to get you, Bruce.”
And with that Dick and Alfred left Bruce alone in the Batcave. 
Bruce took another long sip of his coffee and continued his search. A small smile, barely a smirk lifted on his lips. 
It was a good thing that healthcare workers needed to get fingerprinted. 
He found her. Now all he needed was a solid plan. 
************************************************************************
“Y/n please girl. Please, please, please, please, please,” Sam begged jokingly with her hands together. 
“Nope! No! I am not taking another patient with bed bugs! I took the last one for you and I felt itchy for a week. Besides I have my hands full with an IICP and a stabbing,” I said, wagging my finger at my friend. 
“Gah fine! Wish me luck. I’m manifesting that I have rancid energy that repels beg bugs but is very welcoming and kind to patients.”
I laughed at her, “When you figure out that ratio please let me know, babe.”
The rest of the shift went by quickly, and mostly uneventful. I healed the head injury enough that no surgery would be required. I healed that stabbing enough that he could go home stable the next day. I healed a gunshot wound. A sick two-year-old with a fever. And so on. By the time I was walking out the back of my eyes burned and my back throbbed. I needed to do some stretching. Maybe take a long bath with some Epsom salt and a dirty romance novel. 
My walk home was uneventful. I was grateful to see my apartment. I wanted to shower, sleep, and cuddle Hashbrown. 
I turned the key to my apartment and stepped my leg in to block an anticipatory escape plan from Hashbrown. I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion when she did not greet me at the door. A sense of unease flooded my body and I rushed in.
“Hashbrown? Here kitty-kitty!” I yelled in my sing-song voice for her. The hairs on my neck stood up. Something about the energy in my home was different. It was charged. Slowly, I grabbed my pepper spray. With my other hand, I grabbed my phone. 
Out of the darkness, there was a twing of metal and my phone and pepper spray were on the ground. Quickly, I turned to run out the door. 
“I just want to talk,” a gruff voice said from the darkness. I fumbled my hand against the wall and flicked on the light. 
I tried not to laugh. 
Batman was in my living room, with my cat on his lap. Hashbrown, the traitor seemed completely enamored by him. Some guard cat she was. 
I walked casually to my kitchen, to my fridge. “Do you want anything to eat or drink, Batman? I have some leftover Thai food, some diet cherry vanilla coke, water, coffee, tea?” 
“None for me,” he said, his voice seemingly lower by the second. 
After my dinner was assembled I joined him on the couch. I faced across from him. “What do you want to talk about? And why the fuck did you feel like it was okay to break into my apartment?”
“You’re bold. Is it a front to hide your fear of me?” He asked as Hashbrown nuzzled against his sharp chin. 
I looked at him, almost annoyed, “Should I be afraid, Bruce?” 
“I guess that depends on your answer,” Bruce said, intentionally not finishing his statement. 
“If you want an answer you need to ask me a question,” my tone was sharp. My anger was surging. I just got off a thirteen-hour shift of a four-day stretch. I just wanted to eat, shower, and go to bed. But this oversized emo chicken was interrupting that. 
“What would you do if the world knew about your healing powers?” He asked, and my heart stopped. 
“What would you do if the world knew your identity, Bruce Wayne?” I practically hissed the last part. How dare he break into my apartment, pet my cat, and threaten me? 
“It would be the end of the Batman,” Bruce said.
I looked him dead in the eyes. I held no fear. I just showed him my true exhaustion. “If you’re worried about me telling anyone, I won’t. Call it personal morals or call it fucking HIPPA I don’t care. I’m not going to tell because you were my patient and I cared for you. End of story. Now get out of my house.”
“Would you like to work for me and my family?”
The offer caught me so off guard I almost got whiplash from it. “Excuse me?”
“You would be a permanent first responder that lived in the Wayne Manor full time. Full benefits. A salary ten times what you are making now. You will need to sign an employment contract and an NDA. Your cat of course can also live at the manor. Your services will just need to be available 24/7.”
My mind whirled, “Give me a week to think about it. Write a draft proposal and give it to me as soon as possible. To be frank, I do feel like this is a form of manipulation. You want to hold power over me by being my employer and having me sign an NDA. You want to keep a close eye on me so that you know what I’m doing, who I’m talking to, and what I’m saying. You do not trust that I will simply not say anything out of my own morality.” 
I saw a ghost of a smile on his face, “You’re smart. You will fit in well. I will have the draft in your mailbox by tomorrow. Goodnight, Miss Y/l/n.”
Before I could say anything, he was out the window and vanished into the night. 
“What the fuck, Hashbrown?” I yelled, scooping her up. “What am I going to do?”
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