#listen i think they deserve to get married at LEAST twice
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marinette agreste only if they get married pre hawkmoth defeat and then post defeat she proposes to adrien again & this time he gets married wearing the dress she designed. they both change their last name again.
#miraculous ladybug#adrien dupain cheng#listen i think they deserve to get married at LEAST twice#maybe 4 times#noodling
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heaven can't help me now
chapter 3 • series masterlist
pairing: Dave York x f!reader
summary: You're afraid Dave might not like you as much as you like him. ...Meanwhile, Dave is afraid of the same thing. (They're idiots okay)
word count: 6.5k
tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, phone sex, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, biting, cream pie, use of panties as a gag, orgasm denial, pet names, let me know if anything is missing!
a/n: co-written with my angel @joelscurls, throwing around these ideas with you is so fun, i love you <3
taylor swift said “what if he’s written mine on my upper thigh” and i took that personally
thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading! <3 (and listening to me freak out about this on a daily basis)
follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)
dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍
Dave regrets the message as soon as the small text underneath it switches from delivered to read.
He knows that he’s been cruel to you, he could see the confusion and hurt written all over your face when he drove you home. But he has to be the responsible one, the adult in this situation. The one who’s able to hold back. Nothing should have happened between you and him, not once, let alone twice. He shouldn’t indulge in this, shouldn’t give you hope.
He has always looked down on men who were with women much younger than them. Midlife crisis. Not able to have a relationship with someone on the same maturity level.
That’s not who he is. He understands that the reason why you’re attracted to him lies at least partially in your relationship with your father, and he won’t take advantage of that. It’s not who he is and it’s not what you deserve.
You’re gonna go back to college in a few weeks and he can pretend that none of this ever happened. You’re gonna meet a nice boy your age, become a lawyer, get married and live your life the way you’re supposed to. Eventually, the memory of you writhing underneath him, your voice so sweet and needy in your desperation, surely won’t be as vivid as it is right now.
But then he found your panties between the cushions of his couch, still damp with your arousal, still smelling of you. His mind started wandering, conjuring images that he should be ashamed of. The things he could do to you, the things he could show you.
It’s like he’s lost in a haze, stroking his throbbing cock to fantasies of you, all the depraved shit that some respectful fellow student would never do, but that he knows you crave. He hears your whimpers so clearly in his head, pictures your face, so pretty begging him for things only he knows how to give you, until he releases himself all over the lacy bit of fabric that’s clutched between his fingers.
But now you’re not answering, and shame is swirling in his stomach, surely now he’s overstepped, why did he even think–
His racing thoughts are interrupted by the quiet ping of his phone and a message from you. Just a photo, no text.
His eyes widen, taking in the image. He can’t see your face, only the shape of your tits, already so familiar to him, covered in dark, lacy fabric. Exactly the same color, exactly the same pattern as the fabric that he soiled and photographed to send to you.
You put on the matching bra for him, he realizes. Which is probably why it took you longer than usual to answer, you had to get into the lingerie and put yourself all prettily on display for him. He drinks in the shape of you, the skin that he knows would feel so soft underneath his touch, the swell of your breasts, the nipples hidden behind lace, how they would harden for him, how you would squirm if he–
Desire starts coursing through him again, and he feels like a teenager, reduced to this by just a photo. His thumb finds your name on the display almost instinctively.
“Fuck, baby.”
The rasp of his voice hits your ear as soon as you accept the call. Your heart had been hammering away inside your chest since you hit send on the photo.
“You like it?”
You hate how needy you sound, how desperate for his approval. David exhales sharply and you wish you were with him again.
“Trust me, I like it very much.”
Your cheeks heat at his tone. He blows all other thoughts out of your head. You forget how rejected you felt, how you told yourself you wouldn’t let it happen again. It doesn’t matter, not when he talks to you like this. You whisper a thank you and he chuckles.
“Are you in bed, sweetheart?”
“Yeah.” You bite your lip, considering the words resting on the top of your tongue. Deciding to take the leap. “Wish you were here too.”
You don’t need to see his face to know how he purses his lips, how he slowly curls them into a smirk.
“Mhm? What would you like me to do if I was?”
Your face burns hotter.
“I– Touch me, use your fingers to–”
He groans, a rich, deep sound in your ear. You’re still sore, but your fingertips ghost down your body anyway, chasing the need that’s building up between your legs again. You gasp when they find your clit, already swollen and covered in your slick.
“Are you touching yourself right now?”
“Yes, please David, I need–”
“Don’t worry, baby. I got you.”
He keeps talking to you, low murmurs in your ear, directing your fingers over your body. He doesn’t let up until you’ve come twice, until he’s reduced you to a whimpering mess without even being there.
He doesn’t apologize for earlier, not directly at least. You didn’t expect him to. In a twisted way, that you’re not sure anyone but the two of you would understand, this was his apology.
You’re not sure what changed his mind, but he doesn’t go back to his distant self afterwards. Maybe he’s come to the same realization as you. That neither of you is going to be able to stay away.
He’s on your mind constantly, you catch yourself checking your phone for new messages way too often and smiling down at the screen whenever he’s texting you. You know that you shouldn’t act like this, shouldn’t give him that much power in your mind. But it feels so good, to be seen, to be wanted like that.
You’re both busy; he’s working on an important case and you’re in desperate need to catch up on job applications and college work, which you’ve neglected over the past few days, as your father is quick to remind you.
But you keep exchanging messages, keep sharing hushed whispers at night. It never lets up, the thrill of his voice guiding your fingers and hearing the sounds that he makes when he’s putting his hands on himself. Knowing that it’s you, the thought of you that elicits them.
You’re having dinner with your father, who is home earlier than most days, the brightly lit dining room reflecting off the massive windows, when the bubble bursts.
“You remember Dave, right? From the country club?”
You freeze, your fork hovering in the air over your plate. He knows, your mind screams. No, there’s no way he would know.
You fight hard to appear nonchalant, to not let your face betray you. You nod, humming questioningly in a way that you hope sounds innocent enough.
“I told you how he got divorced recently, didn’t I? It’s been hard on him, poor fella…”
Your dad sighs and shakes his head. You furrow your brow, at a complete loss where this conversation might be going.
“Well, guess who got him a date?! Cheryl from the office is single and I realized, she’s perfect for him! An amazing match. He never goes out, always been a bit of a loner, I guess… But I set them up and they went out last night! Great, huh?”
Your mind is running a mile a minute. You force a weak smile, lifting your head to meet your father’s proud grin.
“Y-yeah, dad. Great,” you echo. You feel hollow.
He leans back in his chair, looking extremely pleased with himself.
“Looks like I’m gonna have to play matchmaker for you too, eventually, with the way things are going, hm?”
Under different conditions, the snide remark about your dating life and how he’s never been even remotely happy with any guy you had dared to bring home, would sting a lot more. Right now though, you’re reeling from the fact that David went out with another woman last night.
“Sure,” you whisper. “May I please be excused?”
You don’t wait for an answer, already pushing back from the table and rushing up the stairs. Back in your room, you grab your phone, scrolling through your past messages. You didn’t hear from him last night, which you hadn’t found weird at the time, but it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth now.
Maybe he finally realized that someone his age would be much better suited for him. A real woman, not some little girl who still goes to school, calls him drunk in the middle of the night and can’t stand up against her father. Of course that’s not what he wants.
You pace in your room, thoughts running through your head. Do you confront him? You never talked about it, never discussed exclusivity, but still… You don’t want anyone else and you had thought that he wouldn’t either.
After tossing and turning in your bed for hours, you decide not to ask David about it, to not contact him at all. Maybe that’s for the best. Save him the trouble of letting you down. It’s like a weight pulling under, the uncertainty and fear of this being it tying itself into a tight knot in your stomach. But you’ve been desperate enough for him already, you try to reason, you need to stop embarrassing yourself by running after him.
He texts you the next day, sounding just the same way he always does. You can’t bring yourself to not reply to him at all, but it’s clipped, one-sentence answers, which he picks up on soon enough. His name lights up your phone as you’re hunched over your desk in your bedroom, pondering over an essay that you’re supposed to write over the break.
“Hello?”
“Sweetheart.” The deep smoothness of his voice travels from the speaker right under your skin, holding you under his spell the way he always does. “Is something wrong?”
You bite your lip, muttering a no in reply. You sound like a petulant teenager, everything that you don’t want him to see you as.
“Now why do I not believe that?”
You hear his smile in the way he sounds. You want to see him so badly, want to be on the receiving end of that smile. You wonder if Cheryl from the office got to see it last night too. If he’s given her all the parts of him that he’s given you.
“Dunno.” There’s a sting in your voice, not unlike the sting that you feel piercing through your heart at the thought of him with someone else.
Dave frowns at the way you sound. You’re never this short with him, never seemed so sad since that night you called him drunk and he turned you down. And even then, it was different, not dismissive the way you are now.
His anxious mind immediately provides him with a variety of explanations. Maybe you’ve finally come to your senses and realized that you don’t want him. That you don’t want a man twice your age, that him wanting you actually makes him a fucking creep, that he isn’t as great as you’ve built him up to be in your head. Maybe you’ve realized that what you’re doing is wrong. He wouldn’t blame you for it. One of you should be reasonable and end things for good. He has been telling himself that.
But you sound so upset that worry settles in his gut. He feels that pull towards you again, only that it’s not explicitly sexual this time. He just really needs to see you, to touch you, to make sure that you’re okay.
The invitation for you to come over leaves his lips without thinking about it, just the overwhelming need to have you close. You pause, so long that he gets even more uneasy, but eventually you agree.
Dave knows that something is wrong as soon as he opens the door. You look smaller, slightly curling in on yourself. You don’t meet his gaze, eyes downturned and without the spark in them that he sees in his mind when he thinks about you. He pulls you into a hug, one that you barely return.
His bedroom door is once again firmly closed, and he’s directing you towards his couch again. Still the last invisible line, the one that he tells himself will keep him from letting you in all the way. Your eyes linger there for a moment, he can almost see the wheels turning in your head. You deflate even more.
He hates to see you like this. Fights the urge to wrap you in his arms, satisfy his hunger for your lips and fuck you until every trace of that sadness written over your face is erased.
The door that you presume leads to his bedroom is closed, just like the last time you were here. You wonder if he opened it for Cheryl, if she got to see a part of him that you didn’t. Then again, he probably treated her like a lady. Wined and dined her properly, maybe a chaste kiss to say good night. Because she’s someone who’s right for him, someone worth putting the effort in. Not the quick fuck that you had been.
He probably invited you over to tell you in person that he really can’t see you anymore. That he means it this time. You suppose that in his mind, that’s the decent thing to do. You think that you would have rather had him text you about it. That way you wouldn’t have to pretend, wouldn’t have to tell him to his face that it’s fine, that you understand, don’t worry.
Still, he called and you came running. Like a fucking idiot.
You sit down on the edge of his couch, decidedly keeping the images of the last time you were here buried in your memories. “Do you want something to drink?” You shake your head no and he sits down beside you. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the simmering need that you feel for him, even now. Please just get it over with.
“You didn’t have to do all this, you know.” You’re not looking at him, keeping your eyes on your hands, your fingers gripping each other tightly, tense like the rest of your body.
“Do all what?”
You bite your lip, attempting to swallow down the anger at the fact that he’s gonna make you the one to say it, but it’s no use. Your eyes fly up to meet his.
“Make me come here, to talk to me in person, or whatever it is you think you’re doing. You– you could’ve just texted me.”
He furrows his brow, a hint of defensiveness in his warm brown eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
You scoff. “My dad told me. About your date.” You’re never like this, your voice biting and your eyes glaring. You’re never like this and you have no right to be like this now, getting worked up over the end of something that never even was, not really. “I’m sure she’s nice. A great match, he said, so you’re gonna tell me to fuck off. It’s okay, I understand.”
Your voice breaks on the last word. A lump is building in your throat and your eyes burn with unshed tears. This can’t be happening. It’s bad enough that you feel this much about it, but it’s indefinitely worse to have him know it.
David’s expression softens. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s not–” He slips one hand in between yours, gently pries your fingers away from each other. “You thought that’s why I asked you to come over here?”
You shrug, once again unable to meet his gaze.
“The date was shit. I wouldn’t even have gone if Jim hadn’t kept bugging me about it.”
Inhaling deeply, you slowly trail your eyes up to his face again.
“Really?”
He nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his chest. His lips press against your forehead.
“Promise.” He sighs. “You sounded so upset, that’s why I asked you to come–”
You sniffle, suddenly feeling stupid about the whole scene you made. He holds you a little longer, and you revel in his scent that’s engulfing you, in the warmth and solidness of his body. When he finally pulls away, his hand finds your chin and lifts it until you’re looking straight at him. A hint of amusement is glinting in his eyes.
“Were you jealous, baby?”
You’re well aware that he can see right through you, but shake your head anyway. He allows himself a grin.
“What then? Worried that you’ll find no one else to fuck you like I do?”
Heat is burning in your cheeks, but you can’t help but laugh. He’s not wrong, at least partially.
Your lips curling up and the soft laugh tumbling out of you soothes him, eases the sting in his chest. The severity of your reaction to the idea of him dumping you for another woman took him off guard. He never wants to see that kind of hurt written over your face ever again.
He should have told you, he realizes that now. He knew nothing would come out of meeting with that woman that Jim had been boasting about all week, but what was he supposed to say? No need pal, I already got everything I need fucking your daughter?
He doesn’t know when you began feeling like everything he needed. He knows that you shouldn’t. He knows that he shouldn’t check his phone as often as he does, shouldn’t spend his days fantasizing about you, shouldn’t imagine you by his side almost constantly.
But how can he not, when you’re looking at him like this, your eyes so wide, so filled with trust. Always ready, always desperate to give him everything of you. Like a dream come true that he didn’t know he had.
“Maybe,” you admit, teasingly but still so, so soft. Everything about you is so fucking soft. His to touch, his to defile. Because, inexplicably, you fucking let him.
He needs to reassure you that he’s worthy of that trust. He leans in closer, feels your breath ghosting over his face as his nose nudges against yours. He pauses, searches your expression for a moment. You dip your chin down in a tiny nod and he’s onto you, chases your mouth with his. He pours all the emotion that he doesn’t understand, can’t begin to name, into the kiss. How much he misses you, how often you are on his mind. How he doesn’t want to hurt you, wants to do right by you, but has no clue how.
Your lips move against his with more fervor, a mess of tongues and teeth clashing against one another. Your whimpers drip into his mouth, leaving him drunk off you. Heat spreads through him, like a fire that’s going to consume you both. He thinks that he wants it to.
He trails kisses down your throat, sucks at the skin, relishes in the shivers that it sends through your body. You grasp at his shirt, trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons, but he stops you. Nipping at your collarbone, he looks up at you, takes in your wide blown pupils, the hunger in your eyes.
Maybe this is all he can give you, but he’s going to do that right. He’s going to give you what he can, as long as you let him.
He hooks his fingers under the neckline of your dress, pulls it down a little, inhales the sweet scent of your perfume. Every new inch of your skin that he reveals fills him with the need to worship it.
“Will you let me make it up to you, sweetheart?” He mouths at your skin again, his eyes still trained on your face. “Let me make you feel good?”
You nod eagerly, a breathy please, David falling from your lips. He runs his hands up your thighs, marvels at the almost feverish warmth of your skin, before he lifts your dress and helps you pull it over your head.
Your underwear is white this time, a picture of innocence that only he knows is an illusion. His arousal swells at the thought, his cock pushing against the confines of his pants.
“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this,” he admits, his hands trailing over your waist, tightening his grip momentarily and enjoys watching you squirm in response. “I think about you all the time.”
Your gaze flickers for a moment, and he realizes what he just said. It’s not a lie, but also not a truth that he intended for you to know. You bite your lip, expression turning thoughtful for a moment. Then a small smile spreads over your face.
“M–me too,” you whisper, a bit shy, like you’re still half-expecting him to take it back, but putting your trust in him anyway.
He has to kiss you again, remove all remaining doubts about how much he wants you from your mind. Licking into your mouth, he starts toying with the cups of your bra, pulling them down just so that his fingertips can graze over your nipples. You press your body into his touch, your back arching off the cushions, and he undoes the clasp, lets the fabric fall away from your body.
He runs his fingers over your flesh, teases the hardening buds, loves the way you keen into his mouth in response. Palming your tits roughly, he pulls away a little to look at them. He doesn’t think that he’ll ever tire of the sight of his hands on you.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs. “Like you were made for me.” It stings only a little right in this moment, while he’s touching you, to know that you are not. He can keep pretending, for a while. It’s worth it, seeing how you light up at the praise, how you drink in his every word, sinking deeper into his touch. His, his, his.
David peels your panties off of you, the image of the white lace against his hand one that you know will burn itself into your memory. His eyes linger on the fabric, a grin slowly growing on his face. Arousal tingles at your spine at the sight. You’re entirely bare now while he hasn’t removed one item of clothing. The obvious power dynamic leaves you feeling vulnerable, you and your body at his mercy, but you trust him. To treat you the way you want, need to be treated, to push you to your limits and to still keep you safe.
The weight of his hands lands on your thighs, slowly pushing them apart, making room for his body between them. You’re acutely aware of how wet you are, and how clearly he can see it right now, with your folds all spread out right in front of him. You feel your slick coating your inner thighs, feel his breath ghosting against it.
He groans at the sight and sinks to his knees, almost at eye level with your pussy. The realization of what he’s about to do sinks in as he leans forward and places a gentle kiss against your clit that has you trembling. But still–
“Y–you don’t have to do that,” you stutter, suddenly feeling a different kind of vulnerable. A shame that you can’t explain starts welling up inside of you.
He pulls back, sitting back on his haunches and looking up at you. His hands gently push your thighs back together, leaving you less exposed.
“Do you not want me to?”
You bite your lip, fighting not to avoid his gaze. “I don’t know. I– I’ve never–” Your voice trails off. A fire is burning in his eyes, intimidating you.
“No one’s ever eaten you out?” He sounds incredulous.
You shake your head, shoulders moving up in a shrug, a wave of embarrassment growing in you. “Men don’t really… like to. In my experience.”
He sighs and leans forward, presses a soft kiss to your left knee. “Most men are idiots.” It’s mumbled into your skin, lips moving against it. His fingertips inch up your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “You deserve to feel good, baby.” His voice sinks into your skin, low and raspy, and you have no choice but to believe it. “Will you let me make you feel good?” he asks again.
His dark eyes are on you, his fingers still tracing shapes over your skin. So close to where you want him. You’d let him do anything.
“Please, David,” you whisper, for the second time.
He pries your legs back open, a low growl in his throat as you’re spread out for him. Then he dives in, licking and sucking at your clit, gently at first, but quickly getting more intense, until stars start to burst behind your eyelids and you’re gasping his name. It’s overwhelming, unlike anything that you’ve ever experienced before.
He lets up momentarily, licking through your slit, drinking up your arousal that’s dripping out of you and groaning at the taste of you. His mouth moves to your inner thighs, kissing and sucking on the sensitive flesh. He bites down suddenly, sinking his teeth into your skin and you scream his name at the unexpected burst of pain that transforms into pleasure almost instantly.
He does it again, and again, leaving his marks on your body. It hurts just right, the sensation of him leaving his trace on you, marking you as his. You clench around nothing, desperate to feel him on your clit again, to take you the final bit to the top.
As if he was reading your mind, he lets up his ministrations on your thighs and kisses his way to the spot where you need him so desperately. Your fingers sink into his hair, tugging at the roots, and he looks up at you, smug pride glinting in his eyes. He licks through your folds, nudges at your entrance with his tongue, before his lips find your clit again, closing around the sensitive nub.
You come within seconds, the waves of your arousal crashing over you so suddenly that it takes your breath away. His groans vibrate against your skin as he laps at you, drinking you down. You feel like you’re in heaven.
David gives you time to calm down, gently mouths at your heated skin, licks over the spots where you feel the indents of his teeth, before he kisses his way up your body. You taste yourself on his lips when they connect with yours. It’s messy, and filthy, and you can’t get enough of it.
You whimper when he pulls back and his eyes find yours again, his almost black, the pupils blown wide. He rises to his feet and looks down to where you’re spread out, thighs parted, on full display for him as he towers over you. He leans down, a finger tapping against your mouth.
“Open.”
Your lips part immediately, giving him all the access he wants. He groans at your obedience, trails his knuckles over your cheek for a moment, before raising his hand to your eyes. He’s holding your panties again.
“These are so pretty. Would be a shame to just leave them lying around, don’t you think?”
You let out a sound, something akin to agreement. His grin widens.
“Good girl.”
His fingers push the fabric into your mouth, your spit soaking the material, mixing with the arousal that’s already sticking to it. You moan at the taste, your eyelids fluttering shut.
His palm connects with your cheek in a light slap. Not hard enough to sting, but your eyes fly back open at the sensation. You grind down onto the cushions, desperate for friction as another wave of need floods you.
“Eyes on me, remember?”
You try voicing a sorry, but it comes out garbled and he chuckles. Soothing his fingers over the spot he just slapped.
“There’s no need for you to talk. Just be a good girl and take what I give you, yeah?”
Your body is buzzing, but your mind is blissfully empty. Ready to give yourself over to him, to submit to whatever he asks. It feels so good, so easily being able to please for once in your life. To follow rules and be praised for it. Simple. Safe.
He wraps the lace around your head and ties it together in the back, effectively gagging you, leaving your mouth opened, the fabric stretching against the corners. Your desire is coursing through your body with so much force that it’s almost painful.
He kisses you over the gag, pressing his lips against yours. One of his hands wraps around your throat, applying a hint of pressure. Your hips chase him, your arousal close to unbearable. He chuckles against your mouth before he pulls back.
“Such a good girl.”
He teases you endlessly. Drinks in the sight of you writhing under him as his fingers are back on your nipples, tugging them harshly and eliciting soft mewls from you. You look beautiful in the golden light of the evening sun that’s falling through his windows, almost angelic.
An angel that he wrecked, already so fucked out when he finally sheds his own clothes and starts sliding his cock through your folds. He coats himself with the slick of your desire, taps his head against your clit, nudges at your entrance again and again without sliding inside.
Your whimpering cries are music to his ears, your fingernails digging into his shoulders sting just right. You’re pleading with him through the makeshift gag, your words all muffled, and he revels in the desperation in your eyes. Loves the sight of it.
“What do you want, sweetheart?” he coos, slides over your clit again. “Tell me.”
You’re trying, trying so hard to get out real words, and he chuckles at your efforts. Deciding to grant you a little mercy, he pushes the head of his weeping cock into you. He throbs at the feeling of it, of how your slick pissy tries pulling him in deeper. You’re whining at the stretch, your hands desperately grabbing at him, before he pulls back again.
Your eyes are swimming with tears, silently pleading with him. It’s like a rush. You’re always such a good, polite and well-behaved girl, so sweet, and here you are, completely bare and spread out underneath him, crying to get fucked. By him. He’s a bad man, he knows it. He doesn’t care, not when it feels like this.
He smirks down at you. “Say please.”
It’s obvious that you’re trying, your tongue struggling against the soaked fabric in your mouth. He lines himself up once more, looks at your face, at the desperate hope written out in your eyes. Then he slams into you. You scream, gripping his shoulders so tightly that he thinks you’ve drawn blood. He couldn’t care less.
Now that he feels your tight walls all around his cock, engulfing him with pulsing heat, it’s impossible to tease you any longer. He pulls back, just to sink deep into you, again and again. You cry out at every thrust, every time that he hits that spot deep inside of you that leaves you such a trembling mess.
He can tell when you’re starting to tighten around him, your cries getting higher, and he knows that you’re close. Slowing down, he leans his head down to yours, his thrusts becoming more shallow.
“Hold it,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting against the soft shell of your ear. A whine escapes from your throat, fresh tears falling from your eyes, your whole body trembling underneath him, your cunt squeezing him deliciously tight. He’s breathless, high on the control you’re giving him, on your level of obedience, doing every single thing that he asks from you.
Letting you calm down a little, he busies himself with kissing every inch of your skin that he can reach. Almost bursting with arousal himself, he knows that he’s not gonna be able to keep this up much longer.
When he speeds up again, he sets a harsh rhythm, jostling your body with every thrust, mesmerized by the way your tits bounce with the movement. Your walls start tightening around him again, pulling him in. He can’t hold back anymore.
“I’m gonna come. Gonna leave you just as messy as those little panties of yours. ‘S that what you want?”
You nod eagerly, more unintelligible pleads stumbling through the gag.
“Fuck, come here–“ His fingers scramble, ripping the fabric out of your mouth to kiss you properly, to feel your tongue against his.
His hips move at rapid speed, pumping into you and chasing both your orgasms. He’s breathless, high on the feeling of your wet cunt squeezing him so tight. You come with a cry, muffled by his mouth on yours, and the sensation of you clenching around him sends him over the edge as well. He buries himself deep inside of you, spilling his cum to leave you just as messy as he promised you.
“Fucking perfect, like you were made for me, only want you sweetheart…” He’s rambling, barely aware of what he's saying, still lost in the bliss of his orgasm. The words only register when an unreadable expression flies over your face in reaction. Shit. He goes through things to say, ways to somehow explain, though he couldn’t even explain the words to himself.
His mind quiets when you smile shyly and burrow your face in his neck. He moves the both of you until you’re a tangle of intertwined limbs, resting on his cushions, watching as the light slowly fades outside. You’re warm in his arms, your breath coming softly, fanning against his skin. It feels too right to be wrong, he decides silently.
The peaceful silence between you breaks with a chime from his phone, a message from your father.
“Looks like I’m invited to have dinner at yours,” he says, turning the screen towards you.
“Fuck,” you mutter, grabbing for your own phone to check the time. “I should get going.”
He helps you get dressed, until your still soaked panties end up in his hands again. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the hem of your skirt, on the bare thighs beneath them. You take a step closer, your hand stretched out for them, but he pulls them away, sliding them into his pocket.
A smirk grazes your features as you take another step closer. “Again? Really?”
He shrugs, takes your hand to pull you into him. Your responding giggle is a sound that he’ll never get tired of. He sneaks a hand under your dress, palms your bare ass and presses your body against his.
“Be a good girl and stay like this, for dinner,” he murmurs against your lips, before he kisses you once more.
A grin slowly grows on your face as you realize what he’s saying.
“Deal,” you agree, your eyes glinting.
You’re sitting down next to him, sliding into the chair beside him with the most innocent, sweetest smile to both your father and him. You’re still wearing the dress that you left his place in, the one that, if you’ve been good, you’re bare underneath.
He reaches for you almost instantly, hidden under the tabletop, the pull towards your skin too strong to resist. You tense up for a moment, throwing him a quick glance, before you relax into his touch. He draws circles, featherlight on your skin, and you part your thighs a little more, allowing him to slide further between them.
Focussing on the conversation with your father isn’t easy, not when you’re right here beside him, so pliant under his touch.
“So, how was it with Cheryl?” your father asks, far too invested in the whole thing for Dave’s liking. You’re looking down at your plate, your shoulders slumped forward.
He shrugs, his hand traveling upwards, beneath the hem of your skirt, pulling your thighs apart a little more. “She’s nice, but– Not the right fit for me, I think.”
The memory of meeting the woman flashes through his mind. “You must be Dave,” accompanied by a shake of his hand. All wrong, so different from the way it sounds when David falls from your lips. He had wanted to leave right then and there. His grip on you tightens at the memory.
“Well that’s a shame,” Jim sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I really thought you two were a good match.”
Dave grunts noncommittally, taking another bite of his food.
“This one,” your father continues, his eyes falling to you, “has yet to find a good match as well. Not the best choices so far.” He chuckles, either blind or indifferent to the way you seem to shrink in your chair. You mumble something about focussing on school and your career right now, your voice so small that it breaks Dave’s heart.
“Boys your age are idiots anyway,” he says, grinning at how your eyes widen, his emphasis on your age in no way lost on you. “Wouldn’t want to have them distracting you, right?”
You nod silently, but fire burns in your eyes when his hand reaches so high that his fingers swirl through the slick that’s covering your upper thighs. Dave grits his teeth, fighting the urge to kiss you right here and now, consequences be damned.
It’s wrong, it’s so so wrong, but it’s like he’s lost in a haze, high on the feeling of your skin under his fingertips. On the way your thighs fall open so willingly for him, always such a good and obedient girl. On the way you both know that you’re bare underneath your skirt, dripping with the filthy proof of what you did together. On the way he’s staked his claim all over your inner thighs, to the point that he’s certain the indents of his teeth are still pressed into your flesh. All while your father has no idea what’s happening right in front of him.
The secret rebellion of it thrills you, he understands that now. He wonders if that’s what he is to you, an opportunity to do something so deliciously forbidden that you couldn’t resist. He’ll gladly be that for you. The idea to be the person who brought this out in you thrills him too.
He somehow makes it through the evening. Not a single conversation topic has found its way into his memories. All he can think about, all that he knows he will remember is the feeling of you under his tight grip. All his.
You had excused yourself when your father brought out the whiskey, squeezed his hand under the table before you stood up, carefully smoothing out your skirt. Call me, you had mouthed, turning back to look at him before exiting the room.
He knows that he will.
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider putting a smile on my face by reblogging, commenting or sending in an ask <3 thank you for reading!
#pedro pascal#dave york#dave york x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#dave york fanfiction#dave york smut#fic: wildest dreams#dave york x you#dave york x female reader#dave york x f!reader#pedrostories
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Exes Do it Best
Nikolai never expected for his wife to be a privateer in disguise.
Y/N groaned internally, forcing a friendly smile onto her face, when prince Nikolai Lantsov walked into the throne room. She held it together better than he did—his eyes widened, and he halted in his tracks, then quickly kept moving, ignoring the odd look his mother gave him upon his approach.
"Princess Y/N Vorontsova." The Queen told him, nodding to the beautiful girl.
Y/N turned and gave him the widest, most sarcastic grin of her life and, when he grabbed her hand to kiss the back of it, she squeezed his fingers hard enough to break. He grunted but smiled when he stood, bowing in a mockingly regal manner to her.
"You are as beautiful as they say, Your Highness."
"And you," she countered, her tongue soaked in venom. "just as..." Her head tilted. "What is it they call you? The puppy prince?" She laughed. "It suits you. You're just so adorable."
The Queen seemed satisfied with the exchange and bid them farewell, encouraging them to get to know one another. After all, the arranging of a marriage between their two kingdoms had been an ongoing process for years. And if the two of them had known who each other were before now, perhaps, maybe if Nikolai wasn't such an arrogant asshole, and he didn't think she was a spoiled brat, they would've been married before now.
"Prince Nikolai Lantsov, huh?" She asked, tone honey-sweet and promising violence. "Lovely to meet you Your Highness." She whirled around and strode towards the door, her entire body vibrating with the urge to punch him.
"You lied too, Y/N." He snapped, chasing after her. "Don't act like you're innocent."
"At least I didn't kiss a barmaid before dumping me and fleeing the continent." She hissed, leaning in close enough to jab a sharp-fingered nail into his chest. "Sturmhond."
"You weren't honest either," he argued. "remember when you threw my entire chest of jewels into the ocean?"
"Oh please, you deserved that."
"That was worth more than a hundred horses you brat."
When she stepped forward and hit him, back-handing him so hard her own skin burned, he stumbled back several feet. Then he stared at her in shock, holding his cheek as he rotated his jaw, his eyes flashing with pain.
"What the—what the fuck, Y/N?" His tone had the audacity to sound hurt, and she glared.
"That's the least you deserve." Her voice was deadly as she stepped forward, so close he could've grabbed and kissed her. "Next time you want to cheat on someone, think twice about who you do it to. I am just as royal as you are, my love. Now fuck. Off."
This time, when she spun to leave, he didn't stop her, just watched her as she walked away. Saints, she was just as stunning as she was the last time he saw her. But she was wrong. He hadn't kissed anyone. He didn't know where she'd heard that from, who had lied, but when she wouldn't listen to reason and dumped his money into the sea, he was so furious that he told her he'd rather date a hellion than her and left.
A she-devil, that's what she was. She'd always been a force to be reckoned with, and the fact that they were both royals pretending to be privateers suddenly made a lot more sense. Y/N was just as hot-headed and confident as he was. He chuckled under his breath, then sighed when he remembered what it had been like to be with her. They were passionate and wild together—they fought like demons when they were angry with each other, but they loved each other with the same fierceness.
A flush reddened him from his chest to his face when his mind strayed to the sex, to the savage lovemaking that made his heart pound. He remembered the noise she—
No. No.
He wasn't going to go down that road. She clearly hated him, and there was no convincing her that he hadn't actually done her wrong.
***
She came to their rooms at around three in the morning.
He was sitting awake, unsure of what was wrong with him. They had been married for months now and she still refused to treat him better than dirt under her shoe, and he was beginning to go insane.
He knew she had lovers, men who she snuck out to see in the night. Maybe she wasn't bedding them, but he was almost certain she was, and the thought made his blood boil to the point where he wanted to hit something—anything.
When she walked in, slightly drunk and holding her shoes in her hand, he looked up from the couch where he'd had his head in his hands. She didn't speak to him, only began undoing the laces on her dress as she walked towards their bathing chambers.
"Where were you?" He called after her, listening for several seconds as she ran the tub. She stepped into view, raising a brow as she took out her earrings and pins in her hair.
"Why do you care?" She asked, then rolled her eyes when he just glared in silence. "Fine. With a friend."
"Which. Friend." He bit out, and a smirk pulled at her mouth.
"The fun kind. More fun than you, Mr. Possessive."
"I am your husband." His voice rose and he stood, his chest heaving as he fought for air. "Me. And you—you disrespect me every time you bed another man. You are my. Wife."
"Sure." She purred, sliding her dress down her shoulders until she stood only in her undergarments. "But only in title, Your Majesty."
Chills raced down his spine as he followed her into the bathroom, watching as she poured oils and sweet-smelling tonics into the bath water. He was so angry he could hardly think—could hardly breathe. She practically spat in his face every night, leaving to screw nobodies and get wasted. If she was caught it would be the scandal of the fucking century and put a stain on their just beginning rule.
They had just been crowned, for god's sakes. And she was already pissing on their marriage.
"Don't do it again." He ordered, and she snorted in amusement, reaching back to unhook her bra. "Y/N."
"Don't boss me, Nik." She scoffed, and shimmied out of her underwear, moving to step into the tub.
"I can't take this." His voice cracked, and he pressed the back of his hand against his mouth, unwilling to cry. He wouldn't. He would not embarrass himself further. But his mouth worked before he could stop it and he added, "I can't keep loving you when you fuck other men. You married me. We are married. You are—" He felt his vision swim and inhaled sharply, turning around and striding back into the Livingroom.
He had to get out.
He was practically tripping over himself, hunting for his coat, when soft hands touched his waist, and Y/N propped her chin against his shoulder. He bent forward, gripping the edge of his dresser, a loud gasp ripping through him. He was shaking and, to his disbelief, he could actually feel his heart breaking in his chest. It hurt so bad, his throat squeezing with his effort to breathe past the rock in his throat, that he almost fell to his knees.
"Nikolai." Y/N whispered, and her lips pressed against the back of his neck, her arms slipping around his waist to press him against her chest. "Nikolai, please."
He turned his head slowly, his head pounding, and her face twisted up in an expression of pain when she saw his face was wet with tears. Her fingers reached up, hesitantly, as if his skin would scald her, and brushed his tears away in vain. They wouldn't stop, and he realized with vast disbelief that she was tearing up as well, her breath hitching in her throat as she looked at him.
"You never acted like you cared." She breathed, staring up at him. "I thought you—I thought you didn't care what I did. You haven't shown a single fraction of love to me since we were married."
"Neither did you." He swallowed roughly and tried not to notice that she was completely naked, and they were both crying, and she'd just witnessed him visibly break down. "But I haven't slept with anyone. No one."
"Neither have I." She admitted, her face collapsing in shame, and he froze. His heart paused.
"What?" he asked, and his voice was so quiet he wasn't sure he'd spoken at all.
She looked away, feeling mortified, embarrassed at the unneeded pain she’d been causing him. But damn him, he had broken her heart, too.
“I’ve been hanging out with Alina. Or Genya. Or visiting the city. Jesper and Wylan are in town right now, and I was with them tonight.”
He stared at her for a long moment, just breathing, before he blinked up at the ceiling and moved towards the bed. She watched as he pulled his shirt off and sat down, running a hand over his face. When he looked at her, looked at her with that raw need in his eyes, her heart stuttered.
“I never cheated on you.” He said, his voice calm, and she inhaled sharply.
“But they said—“
“Who? Who said? Because you’re way too damn important for me to risk you over a kiss.”
She stepped towards him slowly as his eyes drank her in, finally allowing himself to soak in every inch of exposed skin, his cheeks beginning to flush as she neared him. She stopped an inch away and grasped his face in her hands, pulling his stare away from her breasts and…lower…to her eyes.
“Do you swear it?” She asked, her voice weak, and he nodded. His eyes still shone with sadness, and he reached out, gripping her hips with his hands.
“Do you still love me?” He countered, expression hopeful, and she sighed, running her hands through his hair and down his neck.
“Nik.” She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them. “Let me show you.”
Nikolai’s chose rose and fell as she helped him out of his pants, then pushed him gently down on top of the blankets. She climbed into bed and kissed him, and for the first time since they’d been married, they truly became husband and wife.
#shadow and bone#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov x reader#shadow and bone imagine#fluff#nikolai x reader
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ted lasso, post-finale thoughts.
I went into the finale thinking yeah, if the writing serves, I can accept any outcome even if it's not exactly what I want. Instead, I was hit with a plethora of mixed emotions I didn't expect to have. Confusion, anger, hurt, annoyance, small bursts of joy in between, and just deep sadness. Almost 20 hours later and I'm still incredibly dissatisfied and processing. For the most part, finales should provide a feeling of celebration and relief. I... don't feel any of that.
I'm just really trying to pinpoint why I'm so sad.
Of course everything inevitably has to come to an end. Of course Ted was always going to reunite with his kid. Of course it's not about winning or losing. Of course Tedbecca can remain platonic if that was always the plan. Of course that's the way life goes, but...
For a show (and this season particularly) that constantly encouraged us to 'believe' and 'hope' in the idea that 'everything will work out', all those 75 minutes did was take me on an unsettling, emotional journey for no concrete reason other than to mess with the audience (the opening scene was just adding salt in the Tedbecca wound I've had since S2). Because everything in a macro sense, "worked out". But the WAY it "worked out" does not sit well with me?? And it's supposed to? For a lot of people (on Reddit/Facebook, lol), it was enough?? Richmond not technically winning and Ted leaving like that without so much as a tear? What am I missing??
When I tell you I'm trying to embrace the good parts, I'm really trying. Yes to KBPR & the women's team, Yes to Colin kissing his fella, Yes to Rebecca & Mae & the guys owning the club, Yes to Roy becoming Manager.
So... why am I still so upset? Hmm, let's see.
The boys' musical number? The cutest. Ted didn't think so.
Nate's apology? Heartbreaking. Ted didn't bat an eyelash.
Rebecca begging twice for Ted to stay? Ted, absolute silence.
Beard staying/getting married in London to his toxic gf? Comic relief, haha, fine. Except Ted wasn't there as Best Man.
Don't even get me started on the huge disservice to the Roy/Keeley/Jamie triangle.
Now listen, I get that he misses Henry & Henry misses his dad. I'm not that cold. A father/son's love is important. It was always the catalyst for this show; for him to work on himself so he can be a better father unlike the one he grew up with. That's fine.
But on this particular week. His last week with his Richmond family. There was NO sense of him being sad to leave them. He can be sad about missing Henry but he can ALSO be sad about leaving. No, he just completely checked out. He let everyone pour out their hearts (Hannah's getting her third Emmy, mark my words) to him, and he just stone-faced the entire time.
THIS DOES NOT MAKE ANY SENSE TO ME.
The argument is that he was internally processing, he was overwhelmed, he was trying to distance himself so it would hurt less. Fair points, okay. But this is a television show, moreover, A FINALE. TV characters, while relatable, are heightened versions of ourselves, there so we can better process our emotions and learn to handle things better in our real lives. Ted deserved MORE dialogue and displaying MORE emotion than whatever this was.
We're never going to see him again. We're over here crying along with Rebecca, Nate & Beard, but he didn't sob once. Even though he spent three years building a family with them. I even thought, hey at least he left his legacy with Trent's book but newsflash, he wanted his name taken off that too! Complete erasure.
I just feel so robbed of better moments. Like there were nice moments here and there. But they could've been BETTER. Honestly, Nate & Rebecca's breakdowns were close to perfection, so much love there. But the lack of dialogue and Ted not reciprocating? Broke ME.
I just cannot. understand. this. choice.
Massive sigh. I'm just truly baffled by the way everything wrapped up and not getting the satisfied feeling that one half of the viewership got. Maybe I'm in the minority, but that means something. It carries weight. Also, for a "three-season arc" that was planned well in advance, why all the rewrites and parallels and fakeouts... it's just cruel. But as the theme says (and maybe this was a warning all along), yeah, I guess this might well be it.
This show has given us so much and the last season flailed for the most part. I don't want to disrespect the show by being negative and cynical (looks like I failed!!) or cast blame on anyone in particular. The cast/crew are amazing people and I'll be grateful for being a part of the journey but I'm just so sad and this feeling sucks and I will never get over it.
Going to miss them. x
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dating kim jongin would include...
pairing: kim jongin x reader
word count: 1.1k
genre: fluffyyyy
warnings: -
a/n: i had to repost it, i’m so sorry 😭
pouts a lot
you can’t give him attention right now? he gets it, but he will pout
you give him just a little peck, but he wants more? look at him again, he will be pouting
he’s feeling quite left out or you did something little that disappointed him? boom, the biggest pout ever
jongin doesn’t like to fight, but he’s stubborn so don’t expect him to back down easily
he won’t scream though, he doesn’t believe in screaming
and if you ever start screaming at him during an argument, just know that he will get dead silent and give you the cold shoulder
any problem between the two of you should be handled with maturity, jongin believes
so he’s ready to forgive you and talk to you like proper adults once you realize you’re wrong and apologize to him
and of course, he will too apologize if he ever realizes he’s the wrong one on the situation
although it’s going to take a little bit of time because like i said, he’s stubborn
actually his stubbornness is probably what initiate any type of conflict between the two of you, usually
because no one, besides his mom, can talk sense into him when he’s being unreasonable
he’s a bit spoiled, yeah
and jealous, jongin has trouble dealing with his jealousy
like, he doesn’t think you’re gonna cheat on him or that he can’t trust you
he does trust you a lot and hopes you trust him just the same
but he definitely hates when people try their ways with you, or when you get too friendly towards someone new because hey, new is exciting, right?
so what if they’re smarter than jongin, or have a better physique? or worse, what if you laugh more at their jokes than at jongin’s?
oh my god, that person probably has more time to spend with you too than jongin does! they’re so much better, aren't they?
yeah, that’s how jongin thinks
his jealousy comes from the “i love you so much and i can’t stand the idea of you finding someone better because then i would have to let you go even though i don’t want to but i would because you deserve the best even if that ain’t me” side
call him selfish, he doesn’t care
he just loves you so much and wants to stay with you for as long as you allow him
jongin had some relationships in the past, of course, so he knows how things work
but all of said relationships ended, and although some breakups were friendly, he still hates when he remembers how much in love he was and how he felt when it didn’t work
and he doesn’t wanna feel that with you
it’s no secret that jongin wants to get married and have kids because that dude got the baby fever at some point in his life and it ain’t going away
so make your relationship work and make his dream come true beside someone he loves so much and so dearly is one of his biggest priorities
and damn, you got so lucky because jongin really puts some effort into making you happy
he’s naturally romantic, naturally cute and soft when it comes to you
so he cooks for you when you’re tired, he gives you massages whenever you ask him to (and sometimes even when you don’t)
he calls you pet names all day long
he texts you constantly too, sending you good morning/night texts, updating you about his day and sending you photos of cute or funny things he saw
he always try to make sure that you’re okay and that you know he loves you
but on top of that comes his effort
to not let the romance die, so he tries to have dates with you at least twice a month (like having dinner at any restaurant you may want or having a weekend getaway with you)
to make you feel loved, so he listens to you even if it’s about something he doesn’t understand or isn’t interested in
to protect you, so often doesn’t show too much pda but still tries to reassure you that it isn’t because he doesn’t want to, it’s just something bigger, out of his control
jongin likes his privacy too, so he might let his fans know that he is dating but he will never, ever expose you unless you want to
and still, he will think about it because again, he cares a lot about your safety
actually, he cares a lot about you in general, about how you feel
so much so that even he’s sure he wants you forever and always, he will still wait a little bit before taking the next step
he will think about what he’s feeling versus what you may be feeling versus the pros versus the consequences
he thinks a lot tbh
so if you’re a rush person or something just be patient with him, he only wants what is best for both of you
that means don’t think he won’t ask you to move in with him, because he will
it might take some time but he will
same goes for marriage
although you will get suspicious that he might be planning to pop the question because all of sudden jongin wants to watch things on tv related to marriage
and all of a sudden he will say things like “oh, when noona got married…” or “did you know that when chen hyung got married…”
he isn’t too subtle about it, the poor soft dude
but he will still do his best to surprise you with a romantic way to ask your hand in marriage
i mean, he always does his best when it comes to you
it might be on something “silly”, like when he volunteered to brush your hair and he tried to make sure he wasn’t hurting you
or when he chose your outfit for a week because you complained about not having a fashion sense like he does
or on something more serious, like when he messed up and made you cry and realized that he had a flaw he should try to work on so he wouldn’t hurt anyone he loves anymore
or when he managed to complete his schedule faster so he could travel to be with you when a beloved one of yours passed away
that’s just who jongin is
that’s just how jongin treats the ones he loves
going out of his way and trying to be a better version of himself for them
#kim jongin x reader#kim jongin x you#kai x reader#kai x you#kim jongin imagines#kai imagines#jongin x reader#jongin x you#jongin imagines#kim jongin fanfic#jongin fanfic#kai fanfic#exo imagines#exo x reader#exo x you#exo scenarios#exo fanfic#kpop imagines#kpop fanfic#kpop scenarios#kai#kim jongin#jongin#kpop#exo
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Chapter 26
Love Me Anyway
“Welcome back, Eric, doctor Holland is ready to see you.”
“Thank you, mr. Holland.”
“Hello, Eric. How have you been doing since last time? You’re still staying sober?”
“Yeah. I think I’m doing pretty well, actually. I mean, it’s still rough sometimes, but I mostly struggle when I’m alone for too long. And my neighbours check up on me regularly and invite me over for dinner, and my parents call me at least twice a week.”
“That’s good. And the antidepressants seem to be working too – do you want to try lowering the dose a little?”
“I don’t know… actually, no. It doesn’t feel… safe. Not yet. I really don’t want to relapse.”
“Understandable. We won’t touch them yet, then. How’s your daughter?”
“Oh, Freya’s great! She’s doing well in school, she plays football and basketball and wants to go back to Mt. Komorebi so she can snowboard again. But the best thing is, I just finished renovating the house – and she got a new bedroom!”
“Her mother and I finally agreed that I’m doing well enough that she’s comfortable with Freya living with me every other weekend.”
“That’s wonderful news, Eric! I’m happy for you. You deserve it, you’ve worked very hard in the last year. What about your job then?”
“Well, I’m still running the clinic alone, and it’s hard, but it also means I’m too exhausted to lie awake for too long at night, so I guess that’s positive. I’m still debating whether to hire a nurse or a vet. But I promise that it will be a man either way.”
“Good. I don’t usually approve of hiring someone based on gender, but I don’t think it’s wise for you to be working too closely with women just yet. You still have some work to do.”
“I know. It gets lonely, though. I mean, I haven’t… been intimate with anyone for almost a year now. Not since the vacation to Mt. Komorebi.”
“I know. And I’m no stranger to mixing love and work – after all, my husband is my receptionist. But until you’ve dealt with your tendency to use sex as a distraction, I think it’s better this way. Have you given some thought to what we talked about last time, about figuring out what you really want?”
“I’m trying. It’s just… I thought I already knew, right? I had everything planned out since I was a teenager, so there was never any doubt or insecurity to deal with. And then I met Katherine and suddenly my carefully planned future looked completely impossible. I felt lost.”
“You were still able to graduate and start a vet clinic, though. That was part of your plan, right?”
“Yes, but it just didn’t… quite live up to my expectations, I guess? My plans hadn’t involved Freya or her mother at all, so everything felt wrong. And I couldn’t even bond with my daughter at first, it was horrible. I didn’t know how to deal with it, I just tried to escape it all like a coward.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Eric. You were only 23, you had a lot to deal with, and postpartum depression in men is woefully under-diagnosed, I’m afraid. But now that you’re doing better, what are your long-term goals? What do you want out of life? What about finding love?”
“Love?”
“Yes, love! I’m not going to force you to be celibate forever, Eric. So what do you want? Do you want to fall in love? Do you want to get married? Have more children?”
“I… yes? I think I do. I’ve just tried not to think about it, not since – I had an ex once, we really had something special but we broke up when we went to different universities. Then one day she came into my clinic, and I remembered how I always wanted to find true love and get married and all that. But I’d just had Freya at the time, and… things turned out differently.”
“Eric, listen. You’re what, 31 now? Take it from me, I’m twice your age, and your life is far from over. You have plenty of time to fall in love again, get married, have as many children as you want.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Well, that’s all for today, Eric. Keep working on your goals. I’ll see you in two weeks, and remember – no women, no booze.”
“No women, no booze. Thanks, doctor Holland.”
“Same time in two weeks, Eric?”
“That’d be great, mr. Holland. Thank you.”
I left feeling strange. I often felt relieved or exhausted after a therapy session, but this time I felt… excited? Scared? Maybe a bit of both. I hadn’t allowed myself to even consider getting into a relationship for a long time.
Was I even able to fall in love? I loved my parents and my daughter, but I couldn’t even imagine romantic love any longer.
beginning / previous / next
#duchellilegacy#duchellichapters#duchelligen3#eric duchelli#freya duchelli#this boy needs so much therapy#like so much
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It looks like you've asked more questions:
Ever think you might owe Zandar an apology?
For what??? For giving her chance after chance, and treating her infinitely better than she deserves? I don't regret any of that. Perhaps I should, but it simply takes too much effort to harbor malice toward her.
You still haven't explained about the baby stew.
I'm getting to that! Fuma's sakes, you lowfolk are impatient! A good story, like a good stew, cannot be rushed. It must be slowly simmered, and then savored when it's cooked to perfection.
Are you still rich & single? Any allergies or weaknesses to poison?
All right. Question time is over. Let's get back to the story.
I believe I left off just before our daughter was born. It went smoothly as far as I could tell, but Zandar was exhausted from her travail, and fell asleep. As I sat there thinking, I came to the conclusions I mentioned earlier, namely that neither of us were fit parents for a little elflet (Zandar least of all!) so I picked up the child and used a bit of Gramarye to make sure Zandar would stay asleep until I returned.
I would have to hide the Princess someplace where Zandar would never find her, and I had an excellent idea where that would be. They were even expecting a baby right around this time! It would be perfect! I set out toward the O'Dor residence on a Top Secret mission, accompanied by only one Ixie.
"Continuing the old Changeling tradition then, sir?" she asked me.
"You know about that?"
"It's in the stories," she replied. "I wonder though, when they come of age, how do they know they're elves? Is it some sort of instinct?"
"No," I explained. "Someone is supposed to come and fetch them … or at the very least, tell them where they need to go. I'll be watching over my daughter from the shadows, to make sure she grows up safe and doesn't fall in with a bad crowd. It won't do to have the Princess of Faerie associating with riff-raff, writers, artists, musicians, and other worthless idlers."
"It will require constant vigilance," the Ixie observed.
As I approached the O'dor household in the middle of the night, I couldn't help but sigh as I thought of Vernier. "She ended up marrying another lowfolk," I muttered bitterly. "Even though she confessed that she had feelings for me."
"You mean old Mama Vernier?" the Ixie surmised. "Angela Weakflit told us that sad tale. The reason Vernier never yielded to your desire is because she knew about the curse that befalls all elves who fall in love with lowfolk."
"She did?" I demanded. "How did she find out? Why didn't she ever say anything?"
"It's in the old ballads," the Ixie shrugged. "She probably never said because she wanted to save your feelings, or maybe she knew you'd try to talk her out of it."
That seemed like Vernier. I mulled this over in silence as we walked toward the O'Dor residence. When we finally arrived, I was surprised to see the place still lit up despite the late hour. I could hear a man talking and a femme in obvious distress. I crept into the bushes beneath the window to listen to their conversation.
"Again, Seamus?" Mrs. O'Dor sobbed. "How could it happen again? I was careful! I took no liquor, ate plenty o' potatoes, an' did no heavy liftin' but she came early anyway."
"Tis not your fault, Mary," Seamus O'Dor answered, clearly struggling to seem calm. "Sure an' ye did everything roight."
"Then why?" Mary wailed.
"Fuma's ways are mysterious," Seamus sighed. I was pleased to note that Mephitism had gained a strong foothold in this district, as opposed to the nonsensical cult that the rabbits of Bunkirk followed. "Mayhap it's the Lady's will that we not have children."
Ridiculous! I frowned. Childlessness was never Fuma's will! These lowfolk may have been nominally Mephitist but they obviously still had a lot to learn.
"Twice is enough, macushla," Seamus murmured soothingly over Mary's muffled sobbing. "We daren't try again. Doctor says it'll imperil your health, bedad."
At that moment I made a decision. These were the descendants of one of the only people who was ever genuinely kind to me, and I had the power to mitigate their misfortune. I magicked up a basket and put my precious daughter in it, and I wrote a note:
"I once knew a very kind but unlucky femme named Vernier. She did me a great service once and helped me when I had given up hope. I owe her a wish which she never claimed. Since Vernier now rests in her grave, the wish goes to her descendant. Tonight the debt is finally paid. I shall take away the burden of your sorrow, and leave my own precious daughter in exchange for the child you have lost. Treat her with love and kindness, as if she were your own, just like Vernier would have done. Signed, the King of the Elves."
With a mix of emotions, I placed the basket on the doorstep. I knocked on the door and quickly pooked away into the darkness. I lingered long enough to observe that the note was read and the basket was taken into the house. Then I turned, and my Ixie and I headed for home.
Dropping off Changelings was strenuous work! I decided that when I returned to the palace, I would greet Zandar as she awoke with a fresh pot of delicious stew. That would surely soften the blow of informing her that I had traded our child for one that was already dead, essentially getting nothing at all out of the deal … but it had been the right thing to do!
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Had a meltdown of sorts but not my usual screaming destructive frustrated meltdown, more of an emotional release and actually expressing myself, but in a distinctly neuroatypical way. So. Not really a meltdown but feels similar? Or maybe I was on the edge of a meltdown but I turned it into more productive crying and communicating instead simply by luck. I think that's more accurate. An averted meltdown crying session. In which I acknowledged out loud that things are different for me and are going to be different from the 'usual' 30 year old, because I am disabled. Like that's not giving up or acting younger than my age to acknowledge that my disabilities- autism + adhd (+anxiety+depression) make things different for me. They're disabilities bc they are disabling to varying extents and varying times.
My sister awhile ago told me I should move out, and on one hand I want to be independent and not feel like a child when I'm with our parents, and I've never lived away from home for more than a week, and i get that in her opinion as the child who went the farthest from home more than once, that experience of living away from home was good for her and her growth and independence, she thinks trying for that goal by the same method would be good for me too.
But the aspects of my disabilities that are disabling are the things that would make moving out and living on my own or even with roommates anywhere from somewhat difficult to meltdown-inducing stressful with negative results (in other words I could go the opposite direction and retreat from independence more bc it scary and difficult and if I'm not good at something right away I give up bc it feels bad!) I can barely manage to make all these phone calls to try to get my medication, I haven't even looked into how my new dental coverage works and didn't call my dentist back and only listened to their voicemail yesterday bc I got stressed out about everything, I have at least one maybe two bills or more overdue to my Dr's office that I have the ability to pay but just haven't taken care of and just can't get myself to do it, I paid for driving lessons over 2 years ago and still haven't called them back to schedule the lessons between being busy and overthinking everything to do with the phone call and the scheduling and the lessons themselves, I struggle to keep my cat's litterboxes clean, I struggle to make sure I shower, I'm struggling to keep up brushing my teeth after starting twice or 3x a day back after my dental surgery in now at 1x a day because I'm always in a rush in the mornings and I have to remind myself to brush before bed *every single time*, I overthink and then fail to respond to messages/texts/emails constantly, I forgot I was going out on the sales floor to help a customer at work yesterday completely bc I got distracted and they waited 10+ mins for me going back and forth to customer service and were very unhappy, i cant get myself to go to bed on time or do a million other things, etc etc etc.
On top of that, I actually *like* spending time with my parents and I'm aware they're getting older, they're not Old, but older. I don't want to throw away time I can spend with them on this idea that I need to live on my own to be independent or just to act my age, like there aren't other 30 yr olds living at home. (My mom lived at home until she got married, sure she went away to college, yes, but still came back and lived at home after that. My dad probably also lived at home until they got married, and hes older than my mom by 2 yrs.) There's nothing so inherently not-independent about living at home as an adult.
Also steph thinks that our parents deserve or need to live alone just the two of them, and do everything alone, as if I'm always spending time with them? Plenty of times I do my own thing while they go somewhere and do something on their own. 'Second honeymoon' she called what she thinks they should have, but they can and have and will go up to the cape just the two of them whenever they want to. I came with them this past one time bc I needed a vacation too and also was too anxious to stay alone and also I hadn't seen the place up there yet at all. They don't mind me spending time with them or living at home, and if they want or need to do their own thing without ne they will and have and can say so! But anyway the idea suggests me needing support for my disabilities is somehow impinging on their ability to live the retired life, like it implies I should feel bad or try to not make them put up with me too much or something. But the fact is I AM disabled and I DO need support and they are my support system at the moment. That doesn't change just because I'm 30 now. I may or may not need the same support for the rest of my life, I don't know, and yes I know they won't be with me for my whole life (tho my zayde was around for 60+ years of my mom's life and 30+ years of it with her as an adult, so), but focusing on the here and now this is where I'm at right now, and I'm the future I can develop other support systems and I can branch out further and further over time, I think I've come a long way since I was 20 let alone 25, even if it doesn't always feel like it, and in other ways I'm struggling more, for different reasons, but anyway. I'm not a burden on my parents and I shouldn't feel the need to remove that burden from their retired life, bc it wouldn't be in my Own best interests to do so! And I'm allowed to be selfish and do what's best for me as long as it works for my parents as well. And it does.
There are still ways I can work on being independent, I try a little bit more all the time and push myself a little bit, and that's okay.
I don't need to do what steph thinks I ought to as a 30 yr old and I don't need to shrink myself from being a problem for my parents by doing things that won't be right for me right now, when I'm not a problem or a burden I just need their support.
And again I do like spending time with them, sometimes I get frustrated with them and with the expectation I'll just continue doing things the same way we always have, for example with dinners, but it also just makes sense like. If dad cooks bc he likes cooking and is best at it, then it makes sense to eat together at the same time when it's fresh and hot off the pan, no need to insist on my own separate time and meal, when it's efficient to est the same meal and together.
Anyway just...thinking and coming to terms but in a positive way, accepting I am disabled and that that's okay.....
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Be My Favorite Ep 4
I have to say again, I did not expect to like this show this much, but well, here we are, I guess. My 2023 BL watching has been sporadic at best, and it does feel good to get back into following a show as it airs. Good prep for the glut we're gonna get later in the year, right? :D
All right I think I am going to like Max and Kawi together. Max seems like a straight shooter but not in a mean way. Kawi needs that, I think.
Okay, no, I definitely like these two together.
Man, though. I sometimes think about what I'd do differently if I could go back in time - I think it's something most people have thought about at least once or twice - and there's some, but maybe not as much as I like to think. The dad thing just gets to me, here. More than everything else. Just right in the chest.
I just really don't love hazing stuff. Don't care if it's "all in good fun" or not, it just doesn't sit well with me.
And now we all know that Piseang is going to show up, because we have room sharing shenanigans to get to.
Knot is the worst, guys. Just, genuinely. Aw, I like that at least one of them thought to ask Kawi if he needs or wants help with Pear. I mean, he totally needs help haha the poor boy is just useless at this, but I don't think he needs the seniors specific help. I don't trust them at all, mostly because Knot is involved and as I said, he's the worst.
And a wild Pisaeng appears to save the day! Bet that Kawi does not appreciate this.
Oof, this is awkward. These people are so awful, ugh.
Honestly, neither of them deserve this. This is so painful and it really doesn't need to be heard by a bunch of jerks who think that Kawi's punching above his weight class, so to speak.
Oh, honey. Although I have to say I do admire his guts in confessing. But it stings.
I have to say though that this love triangle cracks me up a little.
Okay I am Pisaeng in the bar sceen. Pisaeng is me. Kawi, no. Kawi, stop. Except I'm not also fueled by jealousy, ha.
Oh. Oh, hey, I kind of love the fight that Pisaeng and Kawi have. Because Kawi isn't wrong, is he? Pisaeng knows how Pear feels about him and he's ignoring it for whatever reason - my guess is to keep peace and to keep his childhood friend staying around/trying to keep from hurting her because he cares for her even if he can't like her back - but in the long run all he's doing is prolonging the inevitable. Then again he does marry her in the future, but yeesh, that's not great either. Because they've pretty much told us that he doesn't grow to love her. He just...apparently keeps keeping on the buddy role, taking care of her. Pear is a sweetheart and she deserves someone who truly loves her. Both of them deserve to be with people they want and who want them back.
I am glad that he did listen and tell Pear the truth, finally. Man, all these rejections in this episode.
Guys, I really like Pear. She is so awesome. Although aaaah, I really don't know if I'm into her being sweet with Kawi directly after she rejected him. I do think that she's just trying to be nice and that she is probably also making a very clear statement to assholes about where her own loyalties lie, but also please don't confuse him, girl, you were doing so well. Then again it's not her fault if he mistakes being nice for feelings. I hope that they can actually settle into a friendship, because I think they'd be good ones.
Wait, is Pisaeng gonna do one of his own confessions next ep? I was kind of waiting for it this one, not gonna lie. Might as well go for the trifecta.
...all right. I admit it. I'm hooked. Definitely in for whatever comes next.
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WHY LEO DIDNT DESERVE ANY OF WHAT HE WENT THROUGH: an essay by me
movie spoilers :)
ok so at the beginning of the movie he’s shown screwing around when he should be training, yeah?
okay, yes, arguably irresponsible, but considering it’s been 2 years since shredder and there’s no mention of any other formidable foes besides your typical Large Pig, Married Couple, and Bug Man, it’s understandable that he’s pretty lax about everything.
Dont get me wrong, I totally get Ralph’s side! He’s constantly worried about a new threat appearing when they least expect it, plus even their regular missions can be life threatening if they aren’t careful
but dude Leo’s just goofing off and having a funky time, he doesn’t deserve the Epic Emotional Beatdown he gets in the movie
“Oh, but he’s just in general egotistical and braggy”
yeah. he’s 16. Donnie has probably broken the Geneva convention at least twice man idk. He’s a dumbass turtle doing dumbass things.
Then we get to the argument. What really gets me here is that Leo is visibly listening and taking what Raph says to heart- until the moment it gets too dark for him. Saw this pointed out somewhere else, but man really does use humor to cope.
of course, in doing so he brushed off Ralph’s very real and important concerns, frustrating him
the fight over the key? Yeah, not his best work.
in his defense tho, if he actually knew the severity of the situation, he’s proven before that he can be completely serious (even while keeping his jokey persona) when things get more drastic.
I truly believe after they meet Casey, things stop being about straight overconfidence. Leo goes into the fight jokey, but it’s been proven many times that he will often quip while putting his all into his battles, so that’s not the best judge of how seriously he’s actually taking it.
he doesn’t insist everyone stays behind to get the key. he goes out himself, taking the risk because Casey is desperate to get it for really good reasons! I think his actions there- while somewhat reckless- would’ve been seen in a positive manner in most other movies. He’s taking the risk to grab the literal World-Destroying object.
then Raph gets taken
Leo has a panic attack, and he’s more visibly distraught than we’ve ever seen him, to the point where he gets actually, genuinely, dangerously angry for the first time in the entire franchise. He’s probably blaming himself for getting Raph caught.
His stubbornness next isn’t because he’s overconfident. He’s just so focused on getting Raph back, no matter what. He HAS to get his big brother back. Leo doesn’t consider waiting to plan, or retreating, not when it would feel like giving up on his brother. He’s blindly consumed by his fear and desperation.
He makes a lot of bad decisions because of it, don’t get me wrong! They were Bad Decisions! But I really think they weren’t about ego, not really.
I’m glad he learned a lot of valuable lessons but I’m also worried about the like
MASS amount of trauma he has now. Like, that’s some Heavy stuff. The trade off of character development vs whatever all this new trauma and greatly worsened self-sacrificial tendencies (bc they already existed in the show and are probably going to get concerningly worse) might not be the best.
worried about that guy
anyway I really want to see what they do there because that was a roller coaster and the long term effects could be really interesting to watch
Also does anyone else see a lot of parallels between Leo and c!Tommy from the dream smp or is that just me? Like:
-cocky/confident persona to cope and also bc it’s funny
-self worth issues lmao
-the amount of character development needed could’ve easily happened with like,, some minor trauma but no they get the whole sha bang
-ping pongs between overconfident and low self esteem and also “nothing is ever my fault” vs “everything is my fault”
-16 y/old brutally beaten by an unbeatable foe in an inescapable prison only to eventually get out alive despite all odds
This post is kind of a mess lmao
#rottmnt leo#rottmnt spoilers#rottmnt#rottmnt movie#rise of the tmnt movie#tmnt 2018#rottmnt movie spoilers#rottmnt season 3#dsmp#c!tommy#c tommy
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ok let's go
the mochi ship list is as follows
shisui you're chem lab partners and he sucks at it. you are literally fighting for your life everyday and not in the sexy way. but he's cute and funny and his notes are actually colour coded (he just refuses to read them). brings you a drink and a snack as a thank you for quite literally ensuring his head stays attached to his shoulders. insists you come over at least twice a week to help him study. he has good intentions but he just gets too distracted by your pretty face to pay much attention to the textbook
kakashi a nice stable man (aside from all the trauma). married for 10 years kinda vibe. packs your lunch every morning and messages you throughout the day to make sure you drink water. never sends you flowers on your anniversary bc he's sent them so often "just bc" that he thinks they're not special enough anymore. you've got a piece of jewelry for every year you've been together instead. you don't know it but he's already planning your vow renewal ceremony
gumi (you're the only one allowed to call him that though) sweet grumpy pervy bb. he's your roommate and he's a pretty good one to say the least. cleans up after himself, cooks extra for you, offers to do your laundry if you're busy. he even helps you look for the missing panties that the dryer keeps eating. the most jealous man in the world but pretends not to be. literally sulks when you go out on a friday night instead of staying home to watch movies on the couch with him. your missing panties are always folded and waiting on your bed when you get home after though
love you the absolute mostest 💚
no bc this is the cutest thing to exist and i do not deserve this.
Chem lab partner SHISUI definitely burned part of one of his eyebrows off during an experiment last year. I would love to have him as a partner IRL but in chem I just know I'll be lowkey crying about my grade (with him most likely). He's such a cutie though that he makes up for it all and is surprisingly a good study buddy.
KAKASHI is ultimate husbando. My end game. I feel like the Pope himself must've blessed me as a baby for me to be here today to see this. Also look at this baby dressed up as the pope it's my favorite thing in existence. also baby pope w obama
Roomate!MEGUMI??? Cher you might be on to something here. He's the sweetest roommate to you but will be so fucking rude to any date you bring home. Does his best to look like boyfriend material when your friends come over just so he can listen to you guys gush in your room about him later on. Smiles when they tell you that you should just date him already.
thank you so so so so much for this and for playing this was an absolute delight to read.
??? game: who do you ship me with? (thank you in advance for playing this is by far my fav game)
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Idea 5: Vanessa visits the graves of her victims and sees ghosts
An idea that I've seen exceedingly few fics try and cover is Vanessa encountering the ghosts of the people whom she (as Vanny) murdered after the 3-star ending.
I am unsure as to how one would make this situation happen. Maybe it could be a dream.
A scenario that I like most has to do with the idea that Vanessa visits the graves of the children she (no vanny) killed. After she was freed, she reported the location of the bodies so that they could recieve a proper burial. Vanessa knows that it isn't enough, she doesn't think that she will ever be able to do enough to atone for what she did to all of those children (it wasn't you, it was Vanny.) At the very least she tries to go and visit their graves once a week, making sure to bring flowers for them everytime. Vanessa doesn't say anything during the visits, what is there to say? "I'm sorry?" Yeah right, as if SHE is deserving of forgiveness...
I really like it because there are a lot of things you could potentially cover, including:
How would the ghosts react to seeing the freed Vanessa? Would the children be enraged? If so, what would they do?
Or would they be able to see that the person in front of them is not really the same as the one who murdered them, not mentally, at least? Maybe (relating back to idea 2) the children who were taught by her would be able to convince the other children of this.
How about the therapists? They would likely be more willing to listen, being adults trained in understanding psychological conditions.
One could discuss how Vanessa has been dealing with having 2 sets of childhood memories, a fake abusive one (put there by Glitchtrap for reasons of trying to make her more obedient, which ended up failing) and her true, standard, evidently normal one. (in this universe patient 46 and their tapes didn't exist, save for that one line about lying about childhood, just pretend it was in one of Vanessa's tapes)
And, of course, we can't forget Vanessa. What would she do? It is most likely that she would curl up into a ball and await the punishment that she thinks she deserves (she doesn’t). After all, it is HER fault, right? (No, it’s Vanny's.)
If you include Gregory in this encounter, he, being the "no fear" gremlin that he is, would probably try and start to defend his… uh… paternal guardian of unspecified rank in some way, either by trying to explain that Vanny is no more, or try and actually fight the ghosts.
As you can see, there are many ways that I think someone can make a mini story out of this concept.
To set the scene a bit: going to assume Luis and Ness reconnect after SB. Probably dating, maybe even married.
I can imagine one of the earlier times she visits, she heads off, and it gets late. She doesn't come back home. Luis gets worried and heads out (alone. Gregory would be asleep by now) to see where she went, first checking the graveyard as that's where she said she'd be, and he finds her curled up asleep in front of the graves, clearly exhausted from crying.
Let's assume that Luis can somehow see ghosts too, and when the ghosts realise this, they explain that "Yeah, we keep trying to tell her we KNOW she wasn't in control. Oh, and check her for untreated injuries - she managed to get some control back at some points and redirected Vanny's attacks to herself to try and buy us more time, but it didn't work all that often but did save a few lives. This grave plot would be twice as big it wasn't for her at least trying."
Now understanding the situation, Luis would wait with Ness until she wakes up, helps her home, and tries to explain to her what the ghosts had already explained.
#sorry it's so Luis-centric#i just love the idea of them being together so much#fnaf luis#fnaf vanny#fnaf ness#fnaf vanessa#fnaf luis cabrera#fnaf ar luis#luis cabrera#vannis#lunessa#luis x ness#luis x vanessa#ghostly does a thing#ghostly answers
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Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 32, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU
SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?
WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault
WORDS: 1283
“I love that!” I told Sammi as I saw the design, she had been working on for my wedding dress. “In a light teal?”
“Why teal?” My baby sister wrinkled her nose at my color choice as she looked up at me.
“Green for Peter’s favorite color, blue for my favorite color,” I pointed out. “Besides, I always get white clothes filthy dirty.” I wasn’t lying, that plus I didn’t consider myself a virgin, even if I “technically” was one.
“Good point,” Sammi hummed before returning to shading in the dress with a dark turquoise colored pencil. “What else do you want in your wedding dress?”
“I just really want to feel pretty,” I told her.
“Come on,” she rolled her eyes. “Can you at least give me a challenge?”
I worried my lip, unsure of what she was asking.
“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue,” she quipped. “I can get the family wedding pearls from Anna and I can make your dress. But what about something borrowed and something blue?”
“I can get a simple bouquet of flowers with blue,” I shrugged again. “I’m sure Peter has something I can borrow.”
I looked across the open walled tent and saw Peter and Jackie, their heads close together as they talked animatedly about something.
“Do you think our brothers will like Peter?” I asked her.
“Why wouldn’t they?” Sammi stuck the tip of her tongue out as she deepened the color on the bodice.
“He’s twice my age,” I confessed, wrapping my arms around myself. I wasn’t sure if my soulmate would be okay with me discussing that he went to Rikers and had a problem with alcohol and used cocaine in his past.
“Mary Claire, look at me,” Sammi ordered, setting her pencils and sketchpad down to take my fingers into her hands. “We have seven physically terrifying older brothers who are only looking out for us. They love you and don’t want to see you get hurt again, okay? Did you know that Adam had offered to fly back to our home to watch us while mom and daddy were in Paris?”
“No,” I sniffled, wiping away the tears in a rush, not wanting my soulmate to see them. “I still love them.”
“But you don’t love mom.” I couldn’t really argue with her there- there was a reason why I was low to no contact with the bitch. “Mary Claire, listen to me- mom is dying. The cancer has returned and is killing her-”
“Which she deserves,” I scowled. “Sammi, listen to me- if you and Jack-Jack want to go say your goodbyes, go and say your goodbyes. But don’t expect me to attend her funeral.”
Sammi flinched back at the anger in my voice but didn’t really say anything else on the subject.
“So, where will you two be tying the knot?” she asked, changing the subject.
“It will probably be just a simple courthouse wedding,” I shrugged. “Honestly, the idea of having an extravagant wedding makes me have grade A anxiety.”
“Do you know what Peter wants?” Sammi asked, scooting in closer next to me and wrapping her arms around me as well.
“No.” I thought back to our talks of our future and I realized that he had agrees to my little wants and wishes without telling me what he himself wanted. “He never told me.”
“Sweetheart?” Peter suddenly realized that I was crying and leapt up, crossing over to kneel in front of me and drag me into his lap. “It’s okay, everything’s okay, please don’t cry sweetheart…” he murmured in between sweet little kisses.
“I’m sorry,” I hiccupped.
“What is there for you to be sorry about?” he wondered, pressing an open mouthed kiss to my forehead.
“For only thinking about myself,” I told him. “Tell me about your dream wedding.”
“Oh,” he chuckled, suddenly picking up on why I was crying. “Sweetheart, I’ve been married before and I don’t want a big church wedding or anything. I want a scaled down ceremony, if even that. I’d be just as happy not getting married, but if you want to get married at the courthouse, give me a date and I’ll set everything up.”
“You’re perfect,” I whispered, leaning my ear against his chest and allowing his heartbeat to calm me.
THUD THUMP
THUD THUMP
THUD THUMP
Little girl sent a punch that landed into Peter’s stomach and he chuckled before peeling my away from him to stand me up and place a gentle kiss to my stomach.
“Good girl,” he whispered, leaving another kiss on my tummy before reaching up to bring me down for another sweet little kiss.
“You’d be a good daddy,” I mumbled, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Yeah?” he hummed happily, pressing his lips to my stomach once more. “You really think so?”
“I know so.” I looked up to find that Jackie and Sammi were nowhere to be found, having left us alone for some us time. “What do you want to do today?”
“Spend it with you, sweetheart.” He stuck his nose behind my ear and just inhaled, making me giggle as his breath tickled me.
“Okay then.” I took his hand and began to lead him past all the guilds and shops that lined the faire grounds.
“Where are we going?” my soulmate asked as I led him behind the fairy guild and into the trees.
“Fairy Creek Meadow,” I told him. “It’s a popular hidden secret of faire. I’m quite convinced that at least half of the kids here had been conceived there.”
I pushed a branch out of my way to reveal a circle of trees surrounding glass and flowers. I smiled as I lifted up my skirts and stepped into the center of the grass. I could feel Peter behind me, his phone out, the gentle CLICK as he snapped a picture.
“Did you just take a picture of me?” I asked, taking his hand and leading him over to one of the trees. He sat down and held his arms open so that I could cuddle right into them. I cooed as I settled myself in between his legs, the small of my back pressing into his manly hips as he wrapped his arms around me.
I then reached into my basket and pulled out a book.
“Do you want me to read to you?” I asked, leaning back and tucking my head directly underneath his chin.
“Of course,” he answered.
I twisted my head and placed a simple kiss to the underside of his jaw before flipping the book open.
“Chapter one, The Boy Who Lived,” I read, snuggling down deeper into his protective hold on me. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”
TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED
If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!
PETER STEELE TAGLIST
@starchild0985
#Peter Thomas Ratajczyk#Josh Silver#Kenny Hickey#Johnny Kelly#Mary Claire Bradley (OFC)#Peter Steele#Type O Negative#Heavy metal#Soulmate AU#Age gap romance#Smut#Matching tattoos soulmate AU#Tattoos#Mentions of child rape (nothing graphic)#PTSD#Milk kink#Soft smut#Grinding#Assault
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closed for @ssvperboy
They hadn't been officially boyfriend-girlfriend that long, hardly passed their first anniversary, so really this whole plan was incredibly foolish. Spencer wasn't dumb, he knew it could very easily blow up in his face. The thing was... he didn't care. For all of his anxiety and awkwardness, Spence felt incredibly sure about Cam. She was his future, no question, so why wait to start it? Why couldn't they be their own little family now, like they'd been for so many years, with fancier, formal titles? He'd known as soon as they transitioned into being a couple that she was it for him. Each passing week just made it clearer.
Spencer happened to be a cheesy guy, relishing in romance whenever possible, which was why he had to get the proposal just right. Campbell deserved the best and he'd be damned if he didn't give that to her. It had taken a lot of thinking (and maybe some advice from his mom) but finally the perfect idea had come to him. All he had to do was be patient until the time came. Unfortunately, Cam made it very fucking difficult. She almost found the ring more than once (those had been fun panic attacks), not to mention just being around her made Spence want to propose on the spot. Which is, of course, exactly what would end up happening.
Campbell was rambling on about something, as was typical for the young woman. Spencer had been listening very intently, but she veered off from the original topic at least twice and so naturally he got a bit lost. His eyes might as well have been cartoon hearts as he zoned out and watched her go off. He only snapped back to reality after Cam said his name twice. "Sorry, sorry, I just... Will you marry me?" Spencer had planned on telling her she was amazing and that he got caught up in how much he loved her but ohhhh nooo, instead THAT is what decided to pop out of his mouth. All that planning for nothing. Backtracking now would make her think he didn't mean it, and he couldn't have that. So poor Spencer just let it happen, his cheeks blushing furiously as his palms began to sweat.
#spencer callahan ; interactions#ssvperboy#{spencer & campbell}#att#HI SORRY THIS IS RANDOM AND NOT PLOTTED BUT I HAD A THOUGHT AND HE MADE ME DO IT#OOPS
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Tips for the Guys
I recently met a woman online. She was younger than I am and relatively new to the lifestyle, and I quickly found myself sharing thoughts on how to seduce a man. [Editor's note- the short version: deep, sustained, meaningful eye contact; physical touch - try placing your open-palmed hand on his chest when talking/flirting with him; and when all else fails in the middle of a crowded bar remove your panties and put them in his shirt pocket. Let's see how that works for her.]
As we chatted, she shared an all-too-familiar refrain. She is married and she and her husband each want to date and find sex partners, and while she's finding it easy to find guys who want to fuck her, for him it's been a slower, more frustrating experience.
Which I can relate to, having been in those same shoes for many long years.
Once she got a sense of my experience level and the network of friends I've built over the years, she asked me for tips for her husband, and she even suggested I do a blog entry for it (yes, I shared my blog with her. I almost always share it with the women I flirt with). She thought it might be a helpful for her husband and other men in his position.
So here you have it, my ever-so-humble top 10 pieces of advice for men attempting to break into this lifestyle.
Be humble and roll with the punches. This is probably the best advice I can give. Men have it pretty good in general and in the rest of our lives we often have the upper hand. Women make 70 cents for every one of our dollars, usually have to work twice as hard to get half the respect, and are too often considered sex objects in the professional environment. When I started as a single man in the lifestyle, one of the first things I noticed was that the women have the power. They have the upper hand, can choose who they have sex with, and it's we who must curry their favor in the hope of getting noticed. I personally think it's healthy to experience life on the bottom of the totem pole and I'm comfortable having to work extra hard to earn my way. I think men who can check their ego, gain some humility, and keep it all in perspective have won half the battle right there.
Listen. I'm going to grossly over stereotype, but many of the men I know love to go into broadcast mode, spew their stories, and do a very poor job of listening to their date. This is corroborated by many of my friends with benefits, who regale me with stories of guys who blather on and on about themselves and don't ask the women a single question or display any interest in her point of view. I may be an anomaly, but I am genuinely interested in my partner; I like to ask questions, and I think I do a pretty good job of listening. Shutting my trap and actually listening, which is different than sitting quietly while you wait your turn to speak. Actively listening to the women you date will set you apart and help forge meaningful connections. Which is the entire point, if you ask me.
Be respectful. This is related to but goes beyond the act of listening. The women you're dating are fully-formed, 360 degree human beings, not fuck dolls made of flesh. They have hopes, dreams, traumas, baggage, good days, bad days. They may have children, stressful jobs, or clingy exes. They may contribute time to causes, be obsessed with hobbies, or have funny quirks. But no matter what, they are human beings every bit as deserving of grace and dignity as you or I, and treating them as such is not only what they deserve, but will also ingratiate you and help form that meaningful connection I was talking about above.
(This is really #3a) Do I even need to say it? No cock shots. Come on guys, just keep it in your pants. This should be an obvious part of "Be respectful" and go without saying but based on an anecdotal poll of my FWBs, it seems at least 9 out of 10 guys send unsolicited cock shots. But 8 out of 10 women don't want them. If she's one of the two who REALLY do, don't worry, she'll let you know. Set yourself apart, show some class, and when in doubt keep it from the neck up, at least during your initial interactions. It's fine to be flirty and fun (go for it!) but if a cock shot is your fourth message, what you're actually sending is a signal that you may not be the guy she's looking for.
Be interesting. You have interesting things to say. You've had wonderful life experiences. I know you have. Feel free to show it, and share it. Be flirty! Be fun! Tell an interesting anecdote. Flash that humor. You got game and it's great to flex it. But it's even better if you can do so while keeping the above rules in mind: be humble, be respectful, and listen to her. Don't make it a one-way monolog or a broadcast piece of performance art. Make it a sexy, fun dance with both parties playing their part.
Play the numbers game. It may seem a little uncouth for me to say it but it's just a fact. As a man you're going to have to do a lot more work to get a fraction of the attention that your average woman does. So, so many of my FWBs have likes from dozens or even hundreds of guys and they can't even scan through the list, let alone message them all. I, on the other hand, get relatively few matches and even when I do get a match, it's only the occasional woman who engages in dialog. If I had to estimate, I'd say 5%-10% of my swipes turn into a match, fewer than 20% of matches become a conversation, maybe half of conversations turn into a real-live date, and not every date turns out to be a good match. I literally went years swiping on Tinder with nothing much to show for it and then Bam! there's Rosemarie. Hundreds of swipes on Bumble with nothing of interest then Bam! Christine. Months more swiping then Bam! Samantha. I have found you have to be patient, roll with the punches, and play the long game.
Treasure the connections you have and don't play leapfrog. When you do start to get dates and have some success, it can be intoxicating. But the irony is we as humans are programmed to always chase the shiny new object, and the temptation may be to move on from your latest conquest and look around for the next. I'm not saying you shouldn't keep working to expand your network and add to your rotation; I see nothing wrong with that (I still do it to this day). But what I would strongly advise is to cherish the women who do want to have sex with you. Treat them well and continue to show them the respect they deserve. They are giving you a lovely gift of their time and attention (and pussy!) and you are lucky to be the recipient. Don't be a heel and toss them aside while you look for your next thing. Bring them along on the journey and cherish the time you spend together.
Build on your network and your real-world connections. As you start to meet more people you'll have more options. As a couple you will have an easier time finding singles or other couples to join you. You will now be able to visit sex clubs or parties. In these situations it's going to be much easier to meet other like-minded people (they ARE at a sex party after all!). This is an excellent opportunity to find people you click with, and if the feeling is mutual, you can add them to your network. Two important caveats: a) see above about respect and treasuring current connections; if you do make connections at real-live events, don't sneak around on your date or do it behind her back. Be transparent and open, discuss your wants and desires freely, and don't marginalize her. And b) see above about respect and being humble. Don't indiscriminately hit on every woman at the sex party. Consent applies even at - especially at - these places and you should only ask for her contact info if there's a clear, mutual connection. No one likes creepers. Don't make her uncomfortable. Don't be that guy.
Put "I throw sex parties" in your profile. Just kidding. Well, sort of. If you actually throw sex parties, then go for it! Once I started throwing them I did put it in my profile, and my matches increased significantly. And I found I was matching more often with like-minded women and couples. But still. Maybe actually start throwing parties before putting this one into practice.
Don't give up. I saved this one for last because it may be the hardest, but also the most important piece of advice. If you jump into this game expecting immediate success, you may be disappointed. I have no idea how you will do (I probably don't know you after all!), but for me at least it took years of patience, perseverance, and good humor to get to where I am today. The first year or so I had maybe a handful of sex partners and spent most of my time on the websites and the apps, reaching out to people, and having relatively little to show for it. But I was patient and optimistic and played the long game and slowly, over time, I achieved greater levels of success. And then success bred success. You just have to stick it out and eventually you will probably get to that critical point where you have a nice little stable of FWBs. Keep at it. I am confident that with patience and perseverance you'll get there.
And one for the partners:
Give him an assist. For the ladies of the men who are lucky enough to have a partner in all of this, you can do your man a huge favor if you're so inclined. It's going to be much easier for you to find another couple, or a single woman, to have sex with if you are operating as a couple than he will as a single man. You can go to parties and clubs together. You can help unlock the magic door for him to access new pussy. And even if you would rather date separately, are looking to make your own way, and all that, it might be to your benefit to do part of your journey as a couple, at least until he gets his sea legs under him. Because the sooner he starts getting some success, and the more connections he starts to get, the better he's going to feel about this decision and the more likely he's going to feel comfortable giving you the green light to proceed with your solo journey. I have come across my share of couples in which she's gung ho and can get any guy she wants, while he's struggling to find his way, and eventually he becomes bitter and disenchanted, wants to pull back, and it becomes a source of friction. Not to tell you how to live your life of course, but if you love him and want him to have a good experience in all of this, you can do wonders by being his wingman.
Whew! I'm sure there's a mountain of other stuff I could have included. In fact, I'm sure I could write a book. No, seriously, I bet I could. But I'm feeling pretty good about that as a top 10 list of things to keep in mind and try. I'd be willing to wager that if you're patient and perseverant and apply these rules, you'll start to see some success.
And given that I did most of my learning through intuition and the school of hard knocks, maybe it won't take you as long as it took me. At least I hope so.
Good luck, guys, and feel free to drop me a line and let me know how it goes!
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talent: impersonating my husband yes lia i am maDLY IN LOVE with this man ofc i would study everything about him and yes listening to his voicelines for at least twice a week is categorized as 'character study' ok- i am looking forward to the day where you start talking all noble-like and with hidden meanings /j
ofc i will love you either way sweetie *pat pat* your chaotic nature is what makes you lovable. zhongli might not share the same opinion but he gotta live with it i mean he married into the family so yknow he did it to himself lmao-
"i think your friends are six feet under tho" I'M CRYING OF LAUGHTER LSKJLFJDLKSFKDJLFJLDKSDKLJFS
odelia hu tau + venti kin confirmed? 🤔
that mini capitalism jab lmao- the potential of angst is big for that love triangle scenario jhsdhfjhsd
ex!fatui!ayato will be your nightmare. he'll haunt you as long as he still has yet to move on ;;;;
divide and conquer, truly a wise strategy. i haven't touched the side quests yet. one day. perhaps after my vacation lol oh yes i will probably be MIA till 4 oct so don't get worried if i don't reply till then!! :3
YES thank you!! i mean as long as i can survive solo-ing raiden with my shieldbot zhongli i am already content lol my brother loves building characters and he has the time to farm + optimize his builds so yeahhh (plus zhongli is one of his most favorites, so he put a lot of effort to build him lmao)
i have not caught up on enkanomiya lore ;w; but i saw lin's latest arts and lsdjflsjdfk HE IS ADORABLE PLS I AM ADOPTING HIM HE IS NOW MY CHILD /J
he is soooo good aaaa i should have joined a few months earlier so i could have pulled for him ;;; hyv pls we need a rerun pls pls pls pls-
if scara and al haitham are put in the same banner then perhaps i need to summon my elemental burst:
the sacred credit card
/hj
yeah, ngl childe is... i mean... he's cute. wouldn't mind having him in my team, yknow :D
i heard someone said before that they might give us a free dori so i'm crossing my fingers lol
also huggggsss
rin jie, there you are! your writing blog just got shadowbanned, didn't it?? no wonder i haven't seen you around in my notifs 😭 i was just about to drop by your inbox out of concern <//3
BUT most importantly, tumblr. what beef do you have with rin jie, huh??? 🤨🤺 at least, tell her a reason why 😭 i'm so sorry this is happening to you again, rin jie, especially for the third time... aaaa, you do not deserve this at all <3 are you gonna try emailing them again?? i sincerely hope there won't be too much traffic this time, i'm hoping for the best 😭
listening to characters' voicelines as a character study and a reason to simp is SOOO TRUE. i feel especially exposed after replaying the events just to play trial ayato and then opening youtube to hear his voicelines... and also how often he goes 'hehe' or chuckles in convos, uuuuu.
ayato wanters will be ayato havers! and it looks like you've got a lot on your list, good luck~ i pray you do not have to resort to your elemental burst because what if there's not enough money to put food in the fridge that month (/j) 👀 atp, for genshin players, the best thing someone can wish us is "i hope you win your 50/50" 🤝 also, ngl, i kinda agree with you on warming up to ajax because why is he kinda adorable in a way 😭
NO, FR. zhongli's shield is too good like i literally just fought azhdaha yesterday and my team came out unscathed and in full HP from that fight 😭 back when i didn't have grandpa, i had to tank with kokomi's heals to let my team survive <//3 i love kokomi tho, she's super pretty and her heals are a lifesaver!
hehe, well, i hope that i radiate venti and hu tao vibes??? 🤧 they have a connection with their light-heartedness and sense of humor, but they also have a serious/mature side to them when needed be — and i resonate with that! but wbu, rin jie?? do you have any characters that share your energy??? 👀
and i am giving you his adoption papers, this man is vv soft-shaped <3 AND OH, about enkanomiya's lore !! his profile is already finished and when i read back on it, i don't think it contains lore that spoils anything elaborate about enkanomiya itself — since lin's lore actually leans more towards the events of the cataclysm which i know you're familiar with, so i think you'll be safe reading his profile! >:)
#wishing you a good vacay! i'll definitely miss your asks aaaaa 🫂 but i shall be waiting here for you like always <3#and i hope tumblr gets their stuff straight soon too because i don't want to see you stressed 😭#sending hugs to my beloved rin jie! with an extra affectionate puppy bark (/j)#ask box! 📬#visitor: dearest rin! 💠
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