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#they just nod along and think 'not my problem'
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Mission Dad
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Character: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader
Summary: Bucky is just your average dad in his daughter's eyes. But deep down, she yearns for a father with more influence and power, like her friend's dad. Little does she know, Bucky is anything but ordinary.
Words Count: 3,712
Warning: Slightly bullying scene.
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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The midday sun streamed into the principal's office through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. Despite the abundance of light, the atmosphere inside remained heavy and gloomy.
"I’m sorry; it’s my mistake as a parent." You bowed your head to the people in front of you: two couples who wore formal suits, along with their teenage daughter, and the principal, who kept wiping the sweat from his head.
Your daughter, Faith, who stood beside you, clenched her fist. Her expression was ugly as she looked at her mother, apologizing and bowing to someone who didn’t deserve it. “Mom, don't apologize. it’s not even my fault.”
You glanced at her and nodded, assuring her that you didn’t feel hurt or offended.
Sabrina, your daughter's classmate, smirked at you and Faith. With her mouth silent, she told Faith, “You can’t win.”
“Yes. It’s just a small matter.” Roy, Sabrina's father and also a senator, patted his daughter's head. “I think this matter doesn’t have to go public, right?” He turned to the principal.
“That’s right.”
With that, the problem was solved. But the scar still felt fresh on Faith’s heart.
As you drove the car back home, the silence hung heavy between you and Faith. Then, unexpectedly, her voice broke the quiet. “Why did you marry dad?” Faith crossed her arms beside you, her tone tinged with a mix of curiosity and frustration.
Your eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by her question. You hadn't anticipated such a query from your daughter.
“Why did dad let you go alone and allow you to be humiliated?” Faith wiped the tears from her eyes, her voice trembling with emotion. The memory of you apologizing on her behalf still fresh in her mind.
You felt a pang of heartache seeing your daughter in distress. Today's events had revealed a truth you hadn't known before. The reason for your confrontation with Sabrina's parents was rooted in the bullying Faith had endured.
Faith had gathered evidence – recordings and screenshots of text messages – hoping it would be enough to put an end to the torment. But the power and influence wielded by Sabrina's family proved formidable.
With the evidence at hand, Faith had the potential to tarnish Sabrina's family name and derail her father's career as a senator.
Your fists clenched at the thought of Sabrina's cruelty towards your daughter. You wanted to scream, to exact some form of justice for Faith's pain. The urge to confront Sabrina and her allies gnawed at you, a primal instinct to protect your child at any cost.
But you held it in, knowing that today you didn't have the power to fight back. Another reason was because your husband wasn't here. Bucky Barnes had been gone for months for his job, a job so complicated that contacting him was nearly impossible.
You caressed Faith’s hair gently. “I'll try calling your father again.”
Faith sighed, her frustration evident. “He better answer, or else I'll find a better dad.”
You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips despite the circumstances. “Honey, don’t joke like that. Your father is the only one in my heart.”
She pretended to gag, a playful gesture that reminded you of the teasing banter you shared as a family. Whenever Bucky returned home from his job, you would become lovesick teenagers, unable to keep your hands off each other.
******
Back at home, you glanced around to ensure no one was near before your hand slid open a secret shelf, revealing an old flip phone hidden within.
You dialed a number and waited anxiously until a voice finally answered, "Hello?"
You breathed a sigh of relief. "Steve, can you find him?"
“Not yet,” came the disappointing reply.
You sighed again, feeling the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "Alright, I’ll call you later."
Closing the phone, you rubbed your temples, the stress of the situation weighing heavily on your mind. Your daughter was right – you needed Bucky.
Just then, you heard heavy footsteps descending from the second floor. "Mom, I’m going out for a sec."
You glanced up in surprise, realizing Faith was already on the move. "Faith, we just arrived!" But it was too late – she had already slipped out the door.
******
Faith heard your voice, but she sprinted faster. She had caught the name "Uncle Steve" in your conversation, indicating that he might know where her dad was. They had been friends since childhood, and she trusted him.
Upon arriving at the coffee shop owned by Uncle Steve, she pushed open the glass door and was greeted with a warm "Welcome."
Steve was taken aback. "Faith?"
Approaching him, Faith cut to the chase. "Uncle, do you know where my dad is?"
Steve hesitated, struggling to find the right words. Eventually, he shook his head. "You know he has to travel all the time."
Faith rolled her eyes in frustration. "Yeah, cleaning up someone else's mess. He keeps saying that, but when there’s trouble at his own home, he's never there."
Sensing the tension, Steve tried to diffuse the situation. "Hold up, the topic is getting heavy. Let’s sit down." He gestured towards a nearby table, inviting Faith to sit and talk more calmly.
Steve offered Faith her favorite chocolate mint drink to cheer her up. Taking a sip, Faith felt a sense of calm wash over her. She grumbled and sighed, “I don’t understand why mother married my dad when she can’t depend on him.”
Steve widened his eyes in surprise. “Your dad would be heartbroken to hear that,” he said softly. Having a daughter could be both sweet and scary, he thought, realizing the impact of her words.
“But it’s true. I also found out that mother came from a well-known family. But she cut ties with them because she married dad,” Faith sighed, her gaze drifting to the café window. “I wish I had a powerful dad.”
Steve sighed sympathetically, picking up on Faith’s frustration, as well as your own from the last phone call. “What happened, Faith?”
As Faith recounted the events of the day, Steve listened intently, his expression growing increasingly enraged. “How dare they do that!” he exclaimed, slamming his fist onto the table, causing the café patrons to jump.
“There’s nothing I can do since her father is a senator,” Faith lamented.
After a moment of silence, Steve spoke firmly. “Faith, don’t worry. Your father will handle this.”
“But—” Faith began.
“It’s not my place to tell you. Believe in your father. He’s stronger and more powerful than you think.”
Faith couldn’t argue with her uncle’s words. “Fine,” she relented, grabbing her jacket. “I’ll go back.”
Steve wanted to offer her a ride home. “Let me drive you,” he suggested.
“No, it’s alright. I need some alone time. And it’s not far,” Faith declined.
Steve nodded understandingly. “Text me when you get home,” he urged.
“Okey dokey,” Faith replied before heading out of the café.
Back at home, you continued to wait anxiously for your daughter to return. Dinner time had long passed, and worry gnawed at your insides. You picked up the phone and dialed Steve. "Is Faith with you?" you asked urgently.
Steve's voice sounded grave on the other end. "She was, but she left around 4:50 p.m.," he replied.
Your heart sank. "Steve, she still hasn't come home," you exclaimed, panic rising in your chest.
Without hesitation, you jumped into your car and raced to Steve's café. He was waiting for you at the park nearby, his expression as pale as yours. You could see the worry etched on his face as you approached him, your breath coming in heavy gasps.
Coming closer, you noticed that Steve was holding Faith's smartwatch in his hand. The gravity of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks.
Faith had been kidnapped.
You panicked, struggling to catch your breath, and Steve steadied you with a reassuring hand on your back.
"I'll call for backup," Steve declared, his voice steady despite the urgency of the situation.
"I—" you began, but the sudden phone ring interrupted you both.
The familiar ringtone brought a wave of relief flooding over you. With trembling hands, you quickly accepted the call. "Bucky!"
"Honey, I'm sorry, I just got the chance to call you. I—" Bucky's voice sounded cheerful, relieved to hear his wife's voice again.
"Our daughter has been kidnapped!!!" you blurted out, the urgency in your tone cutting through the cheerful facade.
"Who dares lay a hand on our daughter?" Bucky's voice dripped with icy resolve, his tone sending shivers down your spine.
********
As Faith struggled to focus through her pounding headache, Sabrina's taunting voice cut through the dimly lit room.
"Look who finally decided to join us," Sabrina sneered, her eyes glinting with malice as she leaned in closer to Faith. "Did you have a nice nap, princess?"
Faith clenched her fists, her jaw set with determination despite her fear. "What do you want, Sabrina?" she managed to grit out, her voice trembling slightly.
Sabrina's laughter echoed off the grimy walls, sending shivers down Faith's spine. "Oh, just a little payback for ruining my life," she replied, her tone dripping with venom. "Thanks to you, my parents are furious with me. I'm grounded, all because of your little stunt."
Faith's heart sank as she realized the extent of Sabrina's anger. She knew she had caused trouble for Sabrina, but she never imagined it would lead to something like this.
Sabrina, sensing Faith's vulnerability, circled her like a predator closing in on its prey. "You think you're so smart, don't you?" she taunted, her voice laced with contempt. "Well, let's see how smart you really are when you're at my mercy."
Fear gnawed at Faith's insides as Sabrina's words sank in. She knew she was entirely at Sabrina's mercy, with no one to help her in this dark, desolate place. She braced herself for whatever torment Sabrina had in store, steeling herself for the trials ahead.
As Faith scanned the dimly lit room, her heart sank as she noticed an array of menacing tools laid out on the table. Were they planning to kill her? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her.
Sabrina's malicious grin widened as she picked up a baseball bat, swinging it menacingly a few times. The sound of the bat cutting through the air sent a chill down Faith's spine, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.
Closing her eyes tightly, Faith began to pray silently, her mind racing with desperate pleas for someone to come to her rescue.
With an evil smile stretching across her face, Sabrina walked menacingly closer to Faith, raising the baseball bat higher with each step. Faith could feel the weight of impending doom settling over her like a heavy blanket. She wished she had stayed home with you, safe and sound. She longed to see her father, to feel his reassuring presence beside her.
"Dad, help me," she whispered desperately, her voice barely audible amidst the tension of the moment.
"I'm here," a deep voice rumbled through the darkness, sending a surge of hope coursing through Faith's veins. Could it be? Was it truly her father?
"I'm sorry I'm late," the voice continued, each word like a beacon of light cutting through the darkness.
For a moment, Faith couldn't believe her ears. Was she in heaven? But then, a second time, the voice pierced through the silence, more tangible than ever. "Dad!!!" she exclaimed, her eyes snapping open.
Standing tall and imposing in front of her was Bucky, her father. He stood alone but radiated a sense of power and strength that dwarfed everyone else in the room. With a swift motion, he halted Sabrina's advancing bat, leaving her stunned and speechless.
Sabrina had always thought her father, Roy, was intimidating, but the aura of power emanating from Bucky now was on a whole other level. She could sense a palpable bloodlust emanating from him, a primal energy that seemed to course through his veins.
With a voice that trembled with fear, Sabrina managed to stammer out, "Who... who are you?"
Bucky's gaze bore into Sabrina with an intensity that made her shrink back instinctively. "I'm Faith's father," he declared, his voice low and commanding. "And now, I'm going to teach all of you a lesson."
*******
At the grand mansion, Roy lounged in his armchair, swirling his wine glass thoughtfully as he gazed into the crackling fireplace.
The sudden ringing of his phone shattered the tranquility of the moment. "Hello?" he answered, his voice laced with annoyance at the interruption.
"Dad!!!" Sabrina's panicked voice came through the line, causing Roy to furrow his brow in confusion.
"Why are you screaming like a crazy person?" he retorted, holding the phone slightly away from his ear.
"Someone tried to kill me!!!" Sabrina's voice trembled with fear, sending a chill down Roy's spine.
"Stop being dramatic," he scoffed dismissively, though a flicker of concern flashed in his eyes.
"She's right," a new voice interrupted, sending a shiver down Roy's spine.
"And who is this?" Roy demanded, his grip on the phone tightening.
"Your nightmare. And you're next," came the chilling response, causing Roy's blood to run cold.
"Tsk. Empty threat," Roy scoffed, though his voice wavered slightly with uncertainty.
"No, Dad. He's serious. Call all the bodyguards!!!" Sabrina's urgency cut through the air, leaving Roy no choice but to take her warning seriously.
Roy wasted no time in taking action. He swiftly dialed his secretary's number, his expression tense with determination as he issued his orders.
"Get ready for an intruder," he commanded tersely, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Call in all the bodyguards. I want the mansion secured from every angle. Do whatever it takes to protect us."
As he spoke, Roy's gaze remained fixed on the flickering flames of the fireplace, his mind racing with thoughts of the potential threat looming outside.
*******
As the night wore on, tension hung thick in the air of Roy's mansion. The threat from the mysterious voice had put everyone on edge, and they remained vigilant, acutely aware of any unusual sounds or movements.
"Good. Let that kid stay there for a while. She only brings trouble," Roy remarked, his voice tinged with bitterness as he spoke of Sabrina's misfortune.
"Who tried to hurt us?" Roy's question hung heavy in the room, unanswered and unsettling.
His wife, equally on edge, offered her own speculation. "Do you think it's the Barnes?"
Roy pondered for a moment, his brow furrowing with concern. "Impossible. I looked it up. Barnes is just a nobody."
But even as he spoke the words, doubt gnawed at him. Could he be wrong? Was there more to the Barnes family than he had initially assumed?
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the house turned eerily quiet. Too quiet.
Then, piercing through the silence, came the sound of screams echoing through the halls. "AARGH!"
"BANG! BANG! BANG!" The sharp cracks of gunfire reverberated through the air, sending shockwaves of fear through the inhabitants of the mansion.
"What the fuck is going on?" Roy demanded, his voice rising with a mixture of confusion and alarm.
"Are we going to be safe?" His wife's voice trembled with uncertainty, her eyes wide with fear.
"Don't worry, the bodyguards in this room with us are former special ops," Roy reassured, though the tension in his voice betrayed his own anxiety.
One of the bodyguards stepped forward, his posture firm and resolute. "It's alright, ma'am. We can handle this," he assured, his words instilling a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.
The door swung open, revealing just one figure standing in the doorway.
As the bodyguard moved to intercept him, Bucky strode forward confidently, his eyes fixed on Roy. "You have to stop before you get hurt," the bodyguard warned, his voice tinged with concern.
But Bucky paid no heed to the warning. With a swift motion, he grabbed the bodyguard's hand and effortlessly snapped it, causing him to curse in pain.
"Shit!" the bodyguard exclaimed, clutching his injured hand as Bucky swiftly took down the rest of the security detail with brutal efficiency.
The bodyguard, his eyes wide with shock, leaned in to whisper to his friend. "Do you think it's him? The lunatic?"
His friend's expression mirrored his own disbelief as he muttered back, "Shit. You're right."
Their hushed conversation carried a sense of unease as they watched Bucky's brutal efficiency in dispatching their colleagues, leaving them wondering if they were genuinely facing the infamous lunatic they had heard whispers about.
With blood streaked across his face, Bucky closed in on Roy, who tensed, assuming a defensive stance. "So you're strong, huh?" Roy challenged, his fists clenched as he prepared for a fight. "I was in the military too. Which special force are you from?"
"Black ops," Bucky replied curtly, his words sending a chill down Roy's spine.
Before Roy could react, Bucky unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks, each blow landing with deadly accuracy. Roy staggered backward under the onslaught, his face contorted with pain as he struggled to defend himself against Bucky's relentless assault.
Roy, already on the floor, bloodied and battered, pleaded desperately, "Wait. Wait!!! Are you Faith's father? The problem between our daughters is done. And this morning your wife also agreed to it. They're just kids."
Bucky laughed darkly, the sound chilling to the bone. "My wife gave you a last chance. But your daughter blew it," he spat out, his voice dripping with disdain.
The words "just kids" rang hollow in Bucky's ears as he thought of Faith, bruised and battered, her innocence shattered by the cruelty of others.
His heart ached at the memory, and he felt a surge of anger and helplessness wash over him.
Roy's eyes blazed with fury as he struggled to rise. "Who do you think you are? You're just a fucking nobody. I'm a senator. Even if you raze my house to the ground, tomorrow you'll be sleeping in jail. Along with your wife and kid," he declared, his voice trembling with rage and defiance.
"Oh, so you're that powerful, huh?" Bucky sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he looked down at Roy.
"I'm that powerful, you son of a bitch," Roy shot back defiantly, his voice strained with anger and frustration.
With a cold smirk, Bucky reached for his old flip phone, his fingers moving with calculated precision as he dialed a number. "Senator Roy? You know him? Yeah, that one. Could you erase him? Thanks," he said casually into the phone before ending the call.
Roy's eyes widened in horror as he realized the gravity of the situation. "You..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the words to convey his disbelief and fear.
But Bucky wasn't finished yet. With a swift motion, he snatched Roy's phone from his trembling hands and quickly scrolled through the contacts. Finding the name he was looking for, he dialed the number without hesitation.
"Call him. Tell him there's a lunatic who wants to kill you," Bucky commanded, his voice cold and unyielding as he handed the phone back to Roy.
Roy's hands shook as he brought the phone to his ear, his heart pounding with dread. "Hello?"
"Commissioner!! There's a lunatic trying to kill me, he's hurt my daughter," Roy screamed into the phone, desperation and fear lacing his words.
But to his horror, all he heard in response was a calm voice saying, "I'm sorry, you've got the wrong number."
"What?" Roy's voice cracked with disbelief, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at the phone in trembling hands.
"Who are you? You're just a guy from a cleaning company." Roy looked up at Bucky, dis, belief etched across his bloodied face.
"You messed with the wrong daughter," Bucky replied coolly, his voice dripping with a quiet menace.
Bucky Barnes, known by the nickname "Cleaning Service," earned his moniker through his unparalleled expertise in handling the toughest missions in black ops. With hundreds of missions under his belt, not a single one had ever failed. His reputation as a lunatic preceded him, but he wore the label with indifference on the field.
However, when it came to his family, especially his daughter Faith, Bucky preferred to shed his tough exterior and play the role of a regular dad. He didn't want to frighten her with tales of his dangerous exploits; instead, he chose to shield her from the harsh realities of his profession.
But now, as danger loomed closer to home, Bucky realized that pretending to be someone he wasn't no longer served him or his family. It was time to embrace his true self and unleash the full extent of his capabilities to protect those he loved.
Before Roy could react, Bucky delivered a devastating punch that sent him crashing to the ground, unconscious.
*******
As Bucky stepped out of the mansion, a cry of relief and joy erupted from both you and Faith.
"Bucky!" you exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace him.
"Dad!" Faith called out, her voice choked with emotion as she joined in the hug.
Steve watched the heartwarming family reunion scene unfold before him, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips, especially with the backdrop of the burning house behind them.
Bucky held his daughter close, his arms wrapping protectively around her. "I'm sorry. I let you and your mother get hurt," he murmured softly, his voice filled with remorse.
Faith shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. "No, Dad. You're not late. You're so cool," she reassured him, her words filled with love and admiration.
Bucky smiled, a rare warmth spreading across his features as he looked down at his daughter. "Thank you," he said softly before gazing at you. Leaning down, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'm back.I will never let anyone else underestimate us ever again," he whispered, his voice filled with determination and love.
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bloatedandalone04 · 2 days
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Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.5
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Series Masterlist | Original Fic
➪in which anakin and the guys are granted a break, but that still didn’t give him any hope that he could actually fix things between you and him - but that also didn’t stop him from trying.
PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.
WC; 3.2k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.6K FOLLOWERS
Anakin was sitting quietly on the couch as he half listened to Theo and Helena talk at the table on the bus. 
They had been discussing something in hushed whispers for a while now, but Anakin still had no idea what they were talking about. He couldn’t focus on anything right now as he scrolled through the text thread he has with you, his expression one of misery and agony. 
He knew you were back in LA by now. You had to be. You were probably packing your things as he sits and lets his eyes flicker between his bandmate and manager. 
Anakin had left you so many messages by now, and you haven’t replied to a single one. He felt pathetic and worthless, and he hated himself. 
He dropped his phone with a huff, instead deciding to trace his index finger along your handwriting on his wrist. It can’t be over between the two of you. It just couldn’t be. You were everything to him, his entire world. How was he supposed to do this without you? 
“Helena, please, just a few weeks,” Theo begged, and Helena sighed as she rubbed her forehead harshly. “My sister just told me that our mom is getting worse. I can’t let her go through that by herself anymore. I can’t not be there for them anymore. Please.”
Anakin’s mood deteriorated further at his friend’s pleas, and he wished there was something he could do for Theo, but he can’t even fix his own mess. “I know, Theo, I know,” Helena mumbled, standing up and rummaging around in her bag. “I’ve been trying to get this thing pushed back ever since you know who decided to touch broody over there.”
The not so subtle dig had Anakin rolling his eyes and picking at the threads on the blanket he threw over his lap. “Well, can you?” Theo asked desperately. “Get it pushed back? Just a few weeks. I need to be there if my mom-” he cut himself off as he refused to say it out loud. 
Anakin felt tears prick at his eyes as he stared at the floor. His heart ached for Theo, and it ached even worse for you. How had things gotten this bad? Just to make things that much more tragic, it seems like Clara and Vinny’s relationship was on its way out, too. She had left last night on a flight back home, and Vinny hasn’t been out of bed ever since. 
Seriously, how the fuck had things gotten this bad?
Helena looked at Theo with poorly concealed pity, and she sighed as she ran her hands through her hair. “Okay, Liz’s contract will end soon, and I think I’ll be able to get the next few weeks pushed back, so she won’t be welcomed back on the tour once things go back to normal,” she started, sitting back down at the table and looking between Theo and Anakin. “So that might help fix his problem.”
She gestured over to Anakin, and he just scoffed, wondering why she was talking about him like he wasn’t sitting less than three feet from her. 
“I think I can have all of you on flights back home by the end of the week, I just need to make a few calls,” she stated and Anakin’s scowl disappeared almost instantly. 
“What?” He asked in disbelief as Theo made a beeline to his bunk to begin packing. “Really?”
Helena nodded, flipping through a notebook with various names and phone numbers in it. She was old fashioned that way, despite being not much older than Anakin. “Don’t quote me on that, but I think I can do it,” 
Anakin sprung up, the blanket falling to the floor as he pulled her out of the chair and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you,” he rasped, aware that she might not be able to get the tour pushed back, but she was going to try, and that’s what counted. “I owe you. For everything.”
Helena huffed quietly, pulling away to look him in the eye. “We’re a team, Anakin. You guys are like my family at this point,” she murmured and Anakin felt more tears gather in his eyes. “You know I’ll try to do anything I can for you three.”
“I know,” he whispered, “Still, thank you.” 
The next morning, after Anakin got about an hour and a half of sleep, he was waiting anxiously to hear if Helena had managed to get the tour postponed. He was sure Theo had been up all night, too, if the way he couldn’t seem to get comfortable in his bunk across from Anakin’s was anything to go by. 
When she announced that she was able to push the tour back a few weeks, Anakin booked the first flight back to LA and had Theo beside him on the plane. Vinny was in no rush to go back, so he decided to stay behind for a few more days. 
Anakin had sent you a quick text before he boarded the plane, which read, 
I’m coming home. I’m going to fix everything, I promise, Princess. I love you so much. 
And when he got into an Uber after the flight, he saw that you had read his text, but didn’t reply. That was the first text of his that you had read, and as pathetic as it sounded, it gave him hope. 
Theo was in the car with him since they had decided to ride together. He lived a few minutes away from yours and Anakin’s apartment, so he would be dropped off after Anakin. He didn’t even care that Theo would involuntarily be listening to the voicemail Anakin is forced to leave you as you had once again ignored his call. “Baby, it’s me,” he started, glancing over at his friend and feeling grateful for the way Theo turned his body towards the window so Anakin could have at least a little bit of privacy in the car. “I’m ten minutes away from our place. I’m so sorry, for everything.”
He ended it after that, even though he had so much more to say. He wanted to save himself the embarrassment of pouring his heart out to you over the phone, just to have you delete it without even listening to it. 
When the car pulled up outside the apartment complex, Anakin reached over and hugged Theo. “I hope things get better for you and Mary and your mom,” he mumbled, hearing Theo sniff quietly in response as he tried to hold off tears. “Text me if you need anything, okay? I mean it.”
Theo nodded and pulled away. “Same to you,” he says with a forced smile. “Y/n will forgive you. You’ve been together for too long to just give up on it now.” 
Anakin returned a half smile, squeezing his friend’s shoulder before grabbing his bag and getting out of the car. He watched it pull away from the curb as his hand dug around in his bag for his keys, and he almost cried when he finally found them. He hadn’t used them in so long, and he was hit with the memory of the last time he was here. It was the day he left for the tour with you by his side. 
If he could go back and do it again but better, he would in a heartbeat. But he couldn’t. He just had to deal with the consequences now. 
Anakin blinked a few times as he entered the lobby and headed right over to the elevators, taking one all the way up to the fifteenth floor as he tried to think of what to say to you. 
Would you even be there? Did you read his last text and flee the second he got on that plane? God, he hoped not. 
He was a shaky, sweaty mess as he reached the floor you and he lived on, and his nerves were slowly taking over as he neared the door. Anakin couldn’t believe how nervous he was about entering his own apartment and facing you, the girl he’s loved for five years now. It had never been like that with you. Ever.
As he stuck the key in the lock and turned it, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He hadn’t seen you since that night in the dressing room nearly four days ago. He had so much to make up for, so much to apologize for, and he could only hope that you would listen.
When he pushed the door open and stepped inside the quiet apartment, his heart fell at how dark it was. He was sure you weren’t home and hadn’t been for a while, but then he heard some movement to his left, and he dropped his bag instantly and entered the living room. “Princess,” he whispered when he saw you sitting on the couch, your old Uni hoodie covering your upper half while a blanket covered the rest of you. 
Your hair was tied back and your eyes were sad and empty, and when you looked up at him, you dropped your phone onto your lap with a quiet huff. “Oh, you actually were ten minutes away,” you mumbled. “I thought you were lying.”
Anakin shook his head as he scanned the dark living room. It looked like you had been living in here since you got home. Water bottles, your mugs he teased you about on the day you moved in, and cracker boxes were scattered on the coffee table he and Vinny put together. “Why…why would I lie about that?” He rasped, stepping further into the room. “Why would I lie to you?”
You tore your eyes away from him and shrugged. “Because you’ve done it before,” you simply answered, looking back up at him with tears in your eyes. “You said you loved me. And that I was the person you wanted forever.”
“Baby,” he gasped and made it over to you in three strides. 
“Why are you home, Anakin?” You asked, making him stop a few centimeters away from the couch. And you. “Why are you here?”
Anakin felt hopeless and on edge. How was he supposed to fix this when he didn’t know where to start? “Because I love you. And I want you forever. Just you,” he answered. “I never lied about that.”
You bite down onto your lip and reach up to wipe at your eyes with your sleeves. “Um, Kenneth read my short story. I finished it on the flight back to London,” you tell him and he stood still, letting you say what you needed to. “He loved it. Um, he wants to get it published.”
“Y/n,” he said quietly, feeling so proud of you even though he was also feeling terrified. “That’s awesome, baby.”
You drop your hand onto your lap and look up at him with a heartbroken expression. “It’s about you,” you confess. “About us. About…how much I love you and…it’s our story, Anakin.”
Anakin’s shoulders dropped at that. You were so sweet and kind and too fucking good for him. He never deserved you. “Then publish it,” he mumbled, his own eyes welling up with tears. 
“I can’t,” you cry, covering your face with your hands. “It’s too much. It reminds me of us too much, and I don’t even know what we are anymore.”
He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head, unsure of what to say to that. How does he make this better? “I’m yours,” was all he could come up with. “Even if you’re not mine anymore.” 
Those words physically pained him to say, and they only made you more upset. “Fuck, Ani,” your voice broke as you called him the name he only ever let you call him. “Why are you back?”
Anakin cleared his throat and pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes. “Theo’s mom…she got worse and they don’t know if she’ll be okay or if she’ll make it,” he whispered, knowing that his friend wouldn’t be mad he told you that. Theo was your friend, too, after all. 
Your eyes widened at that and you sat up, sniffling as you began looking for your phone. “That’s…that..” you trailed off as you lifted the blanket and grabbed your phone. “I should call him. I should..call him and..” 
You were becoming less and less in control of yourself, and Anakin could see the way you were getting yourself worked up. “Hey,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist as you started to stand up. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” you whispered and he saw tears roll down your face again. “Why wasn’t I good enough for you? What could I have done?”
A broken gasp left his lips and Anakin fell onto the couch next to you, pulling your body into his arms as you cried against his neck. “You’re enough,” he promised, cradling the back of your head and holding you tight. “You’re more than enough. Baby, you’re…you’re everything to me. My whole world. I’m so fucking sorry for what I did, for what I allowed to happen.”
You cried harder against him, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in your fists. 
“I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve been there to support you,” he mumbled against the top of your head. “I’m so proud of you, of everything you’ve done. I’m sorry if you feel like you can’t bring yourself to get your story published because of me. I don’t want you to hold yourself back because of me.”
You cling onto him and lift your head. “I don’t know what to do, Ani,” you sobbed. “Please, tell me what I should do. Please.”
He could see just how much you needed help, and how you needed to be guided right now. And he would help you for as long as you needed, even if it ended up with you kicking him out afterwards. “What will make you feel better? Do you want me to leave? I can give you some space or time or-”
“No, I don’t want that,” you shake your head and crawl onto his lap. 
“What do you want, princess?” He desperately asked. “What can I do?”
“I want things to go back to how they were,” you cried. “I want to feel like I did before when I look at you. It hurts, Ani. I can’t do this anymore.” 
Tears fell from his eyes and landed in your hair as he held you impossibly closer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I love you. I’m sorry.”
You were shaking against him and he felt terrible. This was all his fault. “I want to hurt her,” you mumbled. “I hate her. I fucking hate her, Ani. I hate her for what she did to you.” 
“I hate her, too,” he pathetically agreed and you lift your head. 
“What are we going to do, Anakin?” 
He lifted his hand and smoothed out your messy hair, trailing his thumb down to your lip afterwards. “That depends,” he murmured. “Do you still want me? Could you ever forgive me?” 
You brace your hands on his shoulders and nod. “Maybe…eventually,” you answer. “I still want you.”
A breath of relief left his mouth, but he still wasn’t happy with himself. “I’m back home for a couple weeks, and I’m going to spend every single day making this up to you,” he promised. 
“Then you’re back on tour?” You quietly asked and looked down. “With her?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Helena said something about pressing charges before I came here, and I might go through with it. She won’t be there, I promise. She’ll never be around me or you or us again.” 
“Do it,” you encourage, grabbing the hair on the back of his neck with shaky fingers. “I don’t want her near you ever again. I hate her so much.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” his lips curved upwards just slightly as he gently massaged your hips. “That was quite the nose job you gave her.”
You laugh quietly, lifting your gaze to meet his. “I need to know that it was a mistake, Anakin,” you went back to being serious. “If you felt anything for her, even a little bit at all, I’m out.”
Anakin panicked and shook his head. “Never. I never felt anything for her,” he assured you. “She means nothing to me at all. You’re my girl, the one I want to be with for the rest of my life. I’ve known that since I was seventeen years old.”
You nod, trailing your fingers through his hair. “You promise?” You asked and he nodded instantly. “Okay…okay. Ani, these next couple weeks…I need this to be okay. Maybe not completely fixed, but…okay.”
“I’ll fix everything,” he swore, pulling you against his body again. “I promise you, I’m going to make everything okay again. I love you so much. I always will, you’re it for me. My one and only.”
You give him a small smile, tracing your fingers along his cheek before leaning up and kissing his jaw. “I love you,” 
Hearing you say that had his heart skipping a beat. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to fix this,”
Anakin kisses you all over your face before letting you sit in his lap for as long as you wanted to.
It wasn’t okay, what he did. He knew that. But he was going to make damn sure that he made everything right again. He had to.
-
Three weeks later…
Being back on stage after the brief break Anakin was given felt great. 
He loved being on stage, loved the lights and the screams of fans and the feeling he got from it all.
But it wasn’t what had him feeling so happy right now. 
Theo’s mom had pulled through and was getting better by the day, and was able to stay awake for most of the day now. When she regained control of her voice, she practically forced Theo to go back and finish the tour, and told him that she would be there when it was over. 
Vinny and Clara broke up, but are still friends, and Vinny decided to focus on music and the band. He had even started writing a few songs about the experience that he couldn’t wait to get out there. 
And as for Anakin, he was getting ready for a court date that was set for a few months from now. He did press charges against Liz, and though she claimed she was going to fight it, he knew he had a whole team behind him. There was no way she was winning this thing. 
And you. His sweet, beautiful and smart girlfriend. Well, he was gaining your trust back more and more as the days went on. You allowed Kenneth to send your story to his publisher, and it would be released by the end of the year. 
He was so proud of you, and when he began singing the first verse of Wrapped Around Your Finger, he glanced over to his right and saw you standing next to Helena backstage, a smile gracing your lips and the red rose he had given you before going on stage in your hand. He knew you were proud of him, too. 
And he knew things would be okay.
-
Goodbye, my Rockstar and Booknerd. Til we meet again.
Thank you to everyone who read and followed along with this series. I loved writing it so much ! And thank you to my sweets, @everydaydreamer for the original fic idea. Who would’ve thought we’d end up here?
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muwapsturniolo · 5 hours
Text
✯𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝✯
chris x black earthy/boho!reader
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IN WHICH…Y/n finds a peace of mind with her lover, and his two brothers.
WARNINGS: nothing besides smoking.
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5 a.m.
It was 5 a.m on a Sunday and Y/n couldn't sleep, her mind racing intangible thoughts. With a sigh she carefully sits up, attempting to not wake up her sleeping boyfriend. She successfully does so and begins moving around the room, gathering the items she would need.
She exits the room once she gathers everything, and walks down the hallway, peaking into the guest room to check on Nick and Matt. They decided to come over with Chris and ended up spending the night. She didn't have a problem with it, always hating being alone.
She found their company relieving.
Seeing that the two are still sound asleep, she continues her trek through the big house. She arrives in the kitchen where she grabs a bottle of kombucha out of the fridge, making her way outside barefoot.
She shudders as the crisp california air nips at her skin, not use to the cold that comes in the early morning, and leaves before it even hits 12 p.m. She takes a seat on her poolside couch and sets up her camera, pressing record before rolling up.
"It's currently 5 a.m. and I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come outside and journal while the sun rises." She speaks to the camera softly, her eyes trained on the grinded-up plant in front of her. "The boys spent the night and are currently still sleeping. It was nice having them over, not having to be alone." She lights the joint and inhales the smoke, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling.
"I'm not sure why I hate being alone so much, I think it's because I came from a big family and I'm not used to quiet...Granted it's never quiet considering my thoughts are always loud but I digress." She stops talking and flips open to an empty page, starting to write all of her thoughts and feelings down. She leaves the camera rolling, figuring she would just make it a time-lapse with some copyright-free neo-soul music playing over it.
She wasn't a typical YouTuber, never doing big fancy things and showing off. She was a more peaceful and serene one, her videos consisting of her lifestyle and talking about her feelings.
Her videos that have done well so far are her lifestyle vlogs, the main points being her smoking, painting, cooking, and shopping for crystals. It seems as if the viewers also love her monthly vinyl reviews, finding the way she expressed her love for music interesting.
That's how Chris found her.
He was looking for a YouTube video to watch before bed and he saw a thumbnail of hers. She was smoking in the thumbnail, a wall of vinyl's behind her as the title read, "fav vinyls this month".
He won't lie, he clicked on it because she was pretty, but he stayed for her personality and the raw emotions she expressed as she talked about the Fugees.
To say the least he went down a rabbit hole and watched all her videos that night, adding some of her favorite songs to a playlist.
Speaking of the boy...
She turned around hearing the patio door open, a soft smile gracing her face seeing her half-asleep boyfriend making his way towards her. "Why the hell are you up so early? And why did you leave me?" He questions plopping down next to her. "Couldn't sleep and I didn't want to bother you with my tossing and turning...Why are you up so early?"
"You know I can't sleep without you." He fixes her legs so he can lay in between them, sighing out as his head meets her soft and plush thighs. She smiles softly and runs her nails along his scalp, caressing his face at the same time. "What were you thinking about?" He mumbles when he notices the journal and pen.
She shrugs, "I'm not sure... My mind was just loud." He opens his eyes and looks up at her in worry. She notices and shakes her head, "Nothing bad, don't worry baby." He nods and relaxes back against her body.
The two lay on the couch in comfortable silence as they experience the twilight, listening to the birds chirp as they awaken from their peaceful slumber. The pool rumbles softly as it begins to clean itself, the water rippling due to the vibrations.
"This is nice," she looks down hearing Chris's groggy voice. "Hm?''
"I said this is nice... Laying here and watching the sunrise with you, not having to worry about what the day brings." She hums in agreement and watches as the skies turn from dark blue to hues of pink, purple, and orange.
The sunrise reflects off of the rippling water of the pool, casting a warm glow on the two bodies. Y/n tilts her head back as she basks in the warm rays. It seems as if her thoughts finally quieted down, giving her a chance to be calm.
Chris stares at his girlfriend, his heart swelling in admiration seeing her in her natural habitat. He truly believed she wasn't meant to be in LA. She was meant to be somewhere that had a bunch of greenery, somewhere that had a waterfall right under the sun so she could bask in it like a cat. Somewhere where she could be free and at peace.
"I can feel you staring at me," she looks down at Chris whose face has a hue of red. "Just admiring you. I can't admire my girlfriend now?" She giggles and motions for him to sit up. She pulls him into a soft kiss, enjoying the warmth of his lips.
"It's six thirty and you two are already being gross." The couple pulls away and looks at a half-awake Nick, and a sluggish Matt. The two make their way over and sit on the ground in front of the couch. "Shut up, I was enjoying time alone with my girlfriend since you two decided to crash last night." Y/n watches as Chris and Nick go back and forth, their banter not making sense since they are both still tired.
"Can both of you shut the hell up? It's early and you two are bitching for no reason." Matt grunts. Chris huffs before settling back down against Y/n, burying his face in her stomach. He kisses the brown skin before fiddling with her waist beads.
The quad dives into a conversation, not talking about anything important per say but just talking. They soon fall into silence, enjoying the peace before they have to go back to their busy lives. Not long after, Y/n's brown cat Janelle, joins them causing Matt to gasp in excitement.
As he plays with her, Y/n rolls another blunt. "I wish I could do this every day. Your house just makes me feel at home." Nick breathes out.
"That's funny considering I only find it to be homey when you guys are here." She grabs her lighter and sparks the pink wrap, inhaling it before handing it to Chris. She watches as the smoke cascades in the sun, creating shapes of different sizes.
"Wouldn't it be crazy if we all just lived with each other?" Matt voices, his tone light as he plays with the cat.
"I wouldn't be opposed to it...We are always with each other anyway." Nick adds.
"I would like that honestly," Chris eyes Y/n as she speaks, his heart racing at her words. He knows it's too soon, the two of them have only been with each other for 7 months. However he knows she's the one, his family loves her, his friends love her, he loves her. She came into his life and watered him like a plant, helping him bloom into something more.
"Fuck it, let's do it!" Everyone turns to Chris in surprise.
"Huh?"
Chris sits up and turns his body towards Y/n, "Let's move in with each other...I mean you hate living alone and we are always over anyway. Let's move in with each other."
"Are you sure Chris?" Y/n wants to scream and dance in excitement at the thought of her best friends and boyfriend living with her, but the sensible part of her isn't sure. Granted they have been friends for a year but she and Chris have only been dating for 7 months. "Yeah, I don't have a problem living with you, I think it would be great... I want this relationship to go somewhere...I think you're the one for me."
Y/n feels her eyes burning as the salty tears form, slowly descending down her face. Chris chuckles and pulls the girl into him, holding her tightly.
They all sit in silence, letting Y/n get her emotions out.
After a few minutes, Y/n sniffles and pulls away from Chris.
"Yeah."
"Yeah?"
"I'm in... I want you guys to move in with m-" Before she can finish her last word, she's dogpiled by the three boys, all of them laughing and shouting in excitment.
"Yes! This is so exciting! I'm going to love having a fully decorated house!"
"I get to see Janelle every day!"
"And I get to love on you every day!" Chris pulls her into a deep kiss, ignoring the groans of Nick and Matt.
The two brothers stand up and walk back into the house, leaving the couple alone once again.
They pull away from the kiss, their foreheads touching as they look each other in the eyes, both of their bodies full of love and tranquility.
"I love you," Chris whispers, his voice holding nothing but affection.
"I love you too"
The two lean in once again, their lips touching softly and tenderly.
The sun shines directly in front of them, the camera only able to see the silhouettes of the lovers.
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i was in a fluffly mood so i hope yall like it💕
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axelsagewrites · 10 hours
Note
Aegon x sister!reader (maybe the child of Aemma) where she puts him on his place once and for all
Aegon Targaryen*Truce
Pairing: aegon x sister!reader
Word count: 2359
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Warnings: arranged marriage, feud, teasing, mocking, aegon having a drinking problem, viserys being a shitty dad, swearing, talks of whores, aegon hitting on reader, angst with slight fluff at points
Masterlist Here
You hated your husband. He was rude and arrogant and a drunk and lazy and loud and egotistical and if the rumours were to be believed a whore. Aegon Targaryen was one of the most infuriating people you had ever met so when Rhanerya told you, you were to be married you screamed.
“You can’t possibly think I will go along with this! I hate him!”
“I know,”
“You know last time I saw him he told me I was prettier than all the whores in Kings Landing combined,”
“I remember,”
“And another thing-“
“Sweet sister,” Rhanerya stood from her chair to take your arms and stopping the pacing that had began to wear holes in the carpet, “You knew you had to marry eventually,” she said with a sympathetic smile.
You ripped yourself from her grip, “but to him?” you almost spat back, “What is father even thinking?”
“He’s thinking about the succession,” she said, her face morphing from concern to sternness as she began her lecture. It was one you heard a thousand times about duty and work and the crown. Rhanerya had gave you the lecture, your father had gave you the lecture, your aunts and uncles and lady’s and lords had all gave you the lecture. Maybe your mother too would have if she hadn’t died when you were so young. Even the queen Alicent had tried to give you the lecture.
-
There was no winning this argument. The debate was settled and no one heard your case. As your dear sister pointed out you didn’t even have one. You had been staying with Rhanerya in Dragonstone for some time but now it was time to return to Kings Landing.
“Daughters!” Viserys greeted with a warm hug and smile as you descended off your dragons back. “My sweet daughter,” he said, holding your hands gently, “I hope you are as excited as I am,” you did your best to smile back at him, nodding courteously to avoid another scolding.
-
“Boo,” Aegon whispered in your ear as he suddenly appeared at your back. you hated the way you jumped and hated more the way he sniggered, “How was the journey my dear, sweet, darling?” he said, moving to stand in front of you and meet your eyes with a sickeningly sweet smile.
You fixed an equally exaggerated one on yours as you spoke, “Wonderful my love. There was just one slight issue,”
“Oh, and do tell,” he said, swaying in closer, bending his head down in mock concern, “Your comfort is my top priority,”
You glanced over the full throne room which was currently filled with your betrothal celebrations. You turned back to Aegon once you were assured there was no eavesdroppers, “I never fell into the sea and drowned like I prayed for,”
You weren’t sure what the look that took over Aegon’s face was. Lust, anger, bitter hatred or sadness. It was all a mix behind his lilac eyes, “You’ve always had quite the humour my sweet,” he smiled bitterly before turning to face the room, “Quite the turnout, don’t you think?”
“Funerals tend to be popular affairs,” you mused before waltzing off into the crowd, leaving a now stunned Aegon behind to pick up his own jaw.
Aemond had only been a couple paces away when you departed and he was quick to join his brother’s side, “Must you always be a bother?”
Aegon snorted at his younger brother, “Please you didn’t even hear what I said,”
“So? I know you,”
“And?”
“I know you’re an ass,” Aemond said as casually as saying the sky was blue, “Try not drive your wife away before you’ve even wedded her. especially if you want any chance of bedding her,”
Aegon snorted, his eyes catching the floor, “Who said I wanted that?” he tried to say cooly.
Aemond leaned in to whisper in his ear, “The way your eyes are locked on her ass when she walks away,”
-
Luckily, you’d managed to avoid Aegon for the majority of the wedding lead up. Between catching up with past friends and mingling with prestigious lords you had little time for the creature. That was until tonight.
Viserys had decided there should be a dinner with his brother, wife, and all his children. You dreaded the whole affair, thinking how torturous it would be. However, you didn’t realise you would be getting off lightly.
While distant Viserys had always been kind to you at the least. he sent gifts on birthdays and said sweet even if hollow words. To Rhanerya, your older sister, he dotted on and to daemon he made jokes and laughed like old friends. However even you grimaced at the way he spoke to his sons.
To Helena he was kind though looked confused by everything she said or did or was. He barely looked towards Aemond and when he did you saw the shame behind his eyes. Anytime his attention turned to Aegon the boy seemed to shrink.
You had been sat next to your betrothed and in this time noticed how quiet he was. You were only two years older than him and always remembered when you were in Kings Landing together how he ran through corridors shouting and screaming as a child. You remembered the loud boasts he’d shout over the hall when you returned when he was a teen. However right now he was as quiet as a mouse.
Anytime his father looked at him he shrunk further into his seat and reach for his wine. The few comments Viserys made towards his eldest son had been lack lustre and cold. When Rhanerya asked about his achievements he would make jokes about the time he dropped a sword during a pretend dule.
“I was eight fathers,” Aegon tried to defend himself but when Viserys made another jib he just finished the wine in his cup instead of argue.
As Viserys and daemon laughed loudly, telling a drunken story from their youth to each other despite both being there at the time, you turned to Aegon, “Are you okay?” you whispered, so quietly only he would hear.
His eyebrow raised slightly, mostly in shock you spoke to him willingly let alone to ask him a question. A forced smile pulled on his lips as he slightly raised his cup, “I am drunk,”
“That’s not what I asked,” you whispered back, glancing back at the laughing older men at the other end of the table, “I’m sorry,”
“Don’t be,” Aegon whispered, draining his cup for what felt like the fifth time, “It’s not your fault I’m a screw up,”
You wanted to defend him but as you opened your mouth you heard an ‘oohing’ from the bottom of the table, “The love birds are at it,” Daemon announced, nudging his brother’s side with his elbow. Cackles came from them both and sympathetic smiles from the rest of the table.
-
By the end of dinner, the king was slurring his words and everyone else was exhausted. Aegon stood from his chair, stumbling slightly and earning a heavy sigh from his mother. “Perhaps the prince could escort me to my chambers? After all this castle can be a maze at the best of times,” you suggested to the room.
Your eldest sister was shocked, but Alicent was quick to usher you both away. As soon as you exited the room Aegon went to stumble and fall and without thinking you reached out to steady him, “Careful!” you chastised.
Aegon ignored your pleas and instead slung his arm over your shoulder. You grabbed his hand that was dangling far to close to your breasts for comfort and pulled it away. Instead, you linked your arm with his, “Well that was torturous,” he slurred as you walked the halls.
“Is he always such an ass?” you asked as you reached some dreaded stairs.
“Nah,” Aegon said, shaking his head as he walked up stairs like a baby dear, “He stays away from me most of the time. First dinner I’ve had with him in what, four months? Maybe five actually. When was his name day again?” he asked.
“Nine months ago,” you said, and he clicked his fingers, nodding his head in affirmation before going quiet. “I’m sorry,” you said, breaking the silence.
 “Why?” he asked as you approached the corridor to his room, “You’ve never done anything wrong. Even as kids you were always perfect,”
“I was hardly perfect,” you laughed, remembering all the antics you were involved in, “You were just overly naughty,”
“Its more fun that way,” he winked, a smirk growing on his face as he lent in. you pushed him away, but this time laughed slightly as you did. “Hey this is my room!” he said as you approached the door, “I was to escort you to yours,” he tried to walk past you, but you easily pushed him back with one hand.
“I think I’ll manage,”
“You sure?”
“Positive,”
“Okay,” he yawned, pawing at the doorknob before finally opening it, “Unless of course you want to sleep here,” he added as he stood in the doorway.
“I think ill pass,” you said, screwing your nose up at him though finding the drunken smile on his face oddly endearing.
That was until he kept talking, “C’mon sweetheart. You’ll be joining me here soon enough,” he said as his eyes tried to trail your frame.
Instead, you stepped forward, shoving his chest making him sway back far enough for you to grab the door handle, “Goodnight Aegon,” you sighed before shutting the door behind him and walking back to your own chambers.
-
You somehow saw even less of Aegon after that night. It was odd though. You actually found yourself looking for him in crowded rooms. “Is your brother alright?” you asked Aemond one evening as you stumbled across him in the library.
He looked up with a light smirk on his face, “why? Don’t tell me you’re becoming fond of him,” he teased making you let out a heavy sigh.
“No, I just wanted to make sure my betrothed wasn’t dead in a ditch or collecting diseases at a brothel,”
Aemond laughed lightly at that, “No not this time. He’s been in his room mostly. Don’t know why though. He wont talk much. He gets like this sometimes. Don’t worry though it will pass,”
“I wasn’t worried,” you said before turning to leave.
“You haven’t even touched a book yet,” Aemond called after you, but you ignored his teasing to find Aegon.
-
When you arrived at his room you knocked quickly but when no one answered you did it again but louder. A few moments passed before you groaned and checked the door to find it unlocked. You opened it without hesitation, “Who’s there!” a startled voice came from the sheets.
Aegon struggled to sit up for a moment as you closed the door behind you and placed your hands on your hips, “It’s been a week,”
“Hello to you too,” he sighed, flinging himself back into bed when he realised it was you.
You groaned as you walked over to him, ripping the sheets off his body as he yelped. You were thankful he was at the least wearing a shirt and his small clothes. “Are you avoiding me?”
“Is everything about you?”
“Do you always have to be an ass?” you retorted.
Aegon sighed as he finally sat up in bed, “Why do you care? You don’t even like me,”
Against your better judgement you sat down on the edge of the bed, “Well it looks like there’s no escape for me, so I better try,”
“Oh great, a pity conversation,” Aegon rolled his eyes, “How romantic,”
You couldn’t help it anymore. It had all been building up. The tears were pricking your eyes. You felt your hand slap his cheek and watched his face fill with shock. “I am trying,” you said, standing up and pointing at him as a few spare tears trickled down your cheeks, “I never asked for this and neither did you, but I am trying. You can’t flirt with me and check me out and expect me to fawn over you. I’m not some common whore and even then, they’re paid to like that kind of crap,”
Aegon’s face had softened slightly during your rant, but he soon fixed a distant look on his face. “don’t act so innocent. the first thing you did when you arrived is tell me you’d rather kill yourself than marry me,” You felt your shoulders slump at his words. “You always hated me,”
“Then stop giving me reasons too,” you said and as he went to sigh you cut his defences off, “Stop checking me out when I talk to you and undress me with your eyes. Stop going to the silk streets and visiting brothels. Stop making bitchy comments about me and stop pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. And for the love of the gods do it sober,” you ranted however when you stopped the room fell silent.
Aegon eventually broke it as his voice cracked, “Then what? You’ll love me?”
“No,” you said plainly but you returned to sit beside him on the bed, “But then we could be friends. Or at the least try. I don’t want to hate you Aegon, but you drive me crazy,” a small smile went on his face at the last line, “You enjoy making me mad,”
“Sometimes,” he confessed, his smile growing, “It’s funny when you’re mad,”
“Then I must be hilarious,” you joked, “So do we have a truce?”
Aegon paused for a moment before putting his hand out for you to shake, “Truce,” he said as you accepted his handshake, “So what is it friends do?”
You tilted your head at him, almost out of pity, “I don’t know. We could talk?”
“You always get annoyed when we do that,” he said making you huff. A grin spread on his face, “See?”
You rolled your eyes at the blonde, “I hate you,”
His grin widened, “For once I don’t believe that”
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mpregdimension · 10 hours
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I melted back against the couch cushions, savoring the warmth of Santiago's muscular arms wrapped tightly around me. At 7 months pregnant, my belly had ballooned out enormously, though the sleepy Santiago still thought I was only carrying one big baby. If only he knew the truth that I had twin sons brewing in there.
"It's time for you to tell me how your three weeks in Colombia went. How're your parents doing?" I asked, craning my neck to nuzzle against his scratchy cheek. Santiago had just gotten back from another Colombia trip.
"They're good, babe" he mumbled groggily, planting a lazy kiss on my temple. "Mom keeps bugging me about when I'll finally bring you to meet them."
I managed a smile, though part of me worried his mother might not be as accepting of our relationship as she let on. Since I found out I was pregnant Santiago has stopped talking about his parents, children and friends like he did before, even though he travels to Colombia almost all the time to visit them.
"What about your...other family?" I ventured cautiously.
Santiago immediately tensed up, his eyes flashing open. "Paul, you already know I'm still in the same situation, there's no need to ask every time, please don't make me talk about that damn ex-wife," he grumbled, suddenly sounding more awake. "That shitty divorce is still going on for years, at least my boys are fine, busy at university without having to get involved in those problems."
Deciding to drop it, I just nodded and leaned back against his chest, breathing in his musky, familiar scent. Santiago nuzzled against my neck, his hands roaming down to cup my huge pregnant belly.
"Damn, you're getting so fuckin' big, babe," he purred in that deep, gravelly voice. "I can't wait to meet our little man."
Our little man...if only he knew. I worried my lip, debating whether I should finally tell him about the twins. 
Before I could decide, Santiago surprised me by whispering hotly in my ear, "You know...it's been way too long since I pounded that sweet ass of yours. Why don't we head to the bedroom so I can really go to town on you?" His breath was hot against my neck.
My eyes widened in shock at the bold suggestion, panic fluttering in my chest. As much as I craved intimacy with Santiago, I couldn't risk anything that might inadvertently trigger labor prematurely.
"Babe, I...I really don't think that's a good idea," I stammered awkwardly. "The doctor said rough sex is off-limits this late in the pregnancy."
He let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. "Who said anything about rough? I was thinking nice and hard...Help get you all loosened up down there for when the big day comes." His hand stroked along my thigh teasingly.
I gulped nervously, my heart pounding as desire warred with prudence. Part of me was tempted to throw caution to the wind. But the protective father within wouldn't endanger the twins.
"Please, baby," I pleaded, putting my hand over his to stop the sensual motions. "I want the memories of going into labor to be peaceful, not because we got too carried away fucking like animals."  
A frustrated groan rumbled from Santiago's lips as he begrudgingly pulled his hands away. His eyelids were growing heavy again, that burst of frisky energy fading. I could see him struggling between the urge to ravish me and the siren call of sleep.
Finally, with a defeated sigh, Santiago seemed to give in to exhaustion. "You're right, babe. We'll save that for after the little dudes get here." Within minutes, his breath had evened out into the steady rhythm of slumber. The lingering secret about my twin pregnancy is still burning in the back of my mind. Would it be better to keep it a surprise?
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changingplumbob · 2 days
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Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 3
Battle of the century or kids playing console games...
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CW: Unicorn zombie with minor carton gore
Carson: You don’t think this will be too physically taxing do you
Artemisia: Only for losers
Onyx: Don’t worry Carson, there’s no exercise required
Fergus: I dibs the green car
Onyx: Is everyone ready
Artemisia: Oh would you just press start already
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Onyx: First round goes to me!
Artemisia: That’s ridiculous, you must have given me the broken controller
Carson: Or you’ve been practicing, I get to pick next track. Strawberry Fields!
Fergus: Oh no I hate that one, I always get stuck in the strawberry jam
Onyx: Just follow along behind me Fergus and you’ll see a clear path okay
Fergus: Thank you Onyx
Artemisia: I always think it’s so funny how well-mannered you are
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Carson: I would have thought you’d find that annoying
Artemisia: Nope, it helps us get out of trouble
Onyx: So see here Fergus, if you go between these two flowers there’s the fast launch ramp
Fergus: And no strawberry jam sinkhole!
Artemisia: Hold on, you’re not entitled to win
Fergus: Just try and stop me Emi
Carson: Come on Artemisia, let’s wipe the track with them
Onyx: Team Pancakes!!!
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Kayleigh: I like to hear them play, the house is so quiet with just Carson now
Eliza: Bob and I have been thinking of trying for another one after Fergus becomes a teen. Bob would love a daughter
Kayleigh: And how about you
Eliza: Well I’ve never loved being pregnant but a third kid would be nice
Kayleigh: Sweetie I don’t mean to sound indelicate but have you considered adoption
Eliza: Adoption? Is that legal when I can get pregnant?
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Kayleigh: It’s the 21st century, just because you can have them doesn’t mean you need to. Not that I can talk, I had four
Eliza: I suppose that way I would avoid the pregnancy impacting on my work
Kayleigh: And if Bob wants a girl you can tell the agency that, but you can’t tell your uterus that
Eliza: *chuckles* Good point, I’ll think about it. Oh, would you excuse me? The markets just opened in Tomarang
Kayleigh: Go ahead, you’ll not beat me at this chess match anyway
Eliza: Thanks for helping me learn more
Kayleigh: No problem, I’ll collect my husband and get out of your hair. Night
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Kayleigh: Come on Carson, time to go
Carson: Just let us finish this last race mum
Artemisia: Oh it’s finished and I’m victorious
Fergus: Thanks again for helping me Onyx, I had a lot of fun. See you for my birthday Emi?
Artemisia: Sure thing, Tuesday right
Fergus nods excitedly and the dinner party disperses.
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Happy very cloudy Halloween! The Pancakes decide not to have a party since they had one last night and Bob will need to work tonight. After a quick breakfast the household splits up as everyone has their own tasks to do this morning.
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Bob of course wants to get his work out in before shift. Fergus is in a patch of hyper focus with his ADHD and decides to play mad scientist in the treehouse. Eliza decides to do a dance workout since she cleaned everything yesterday and finally Onyx is set to walk Ginger again.
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Eliza is dancing away when she pulls a muscle in her back.
Eliza: Ouch! Oh, maybe an adoption is a good idea, I will be a 40 soon
Thinking on this she carries on, working on her other muscles. Outside it’s hard for Onyx and Ginger to make out where they’re running but the pair do their best. Ginger isn’t sure why her dad isn’t taking her for these jogs but supposes Onyx is an alright substitute.
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Onyx: I’m back home dad, Ginger is all walked
Bob: *grunts with effort* Did you tell your mother
Onyx: No, she’s busy practicing speech and I didn’t want to disturb her
Bob: Smart choice
Onyx begins their cheer routine, they still have some more solo practice to fit in. All is going well until they fall over on their face. They push up looking around but Bob is busy working his legs and hasn’t noticed. To celebrate Onyx pulls off a perfect flip!
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Previous ... Next
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crybabylulu · 2 days
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Come home to me
(Sugar mama Lin Beifong x sugar baby reader)
Summary: shopping with Asami to get your mind off of Lin not being home (also if I haven’t stated there is an age gap obviously between Lin and reader) (also enjoy this sweet moment)
Lin has been in her office for four days now and I’m dying! I hate it here! I want my Linny! I rolled around in bed and tried to figure out something to do. A lightbulb went off in my head. I decided to call Asami. “Hello.” Asami said. “Hey, what are you doing right now?” I asked. “Nothing today but waiting for Korra to come home.” Asami sighed. “You wanna help me make bad decisions?” I asked. “Yes.” Asami said. “Yay! Come pick me up and let’s go to the mall.” I said. “I’m on the way.” Asami said and hung up. I laughed then went to get ready.
I heard honking from downstairs and I peeked out the window and saw Asami. I grabbed my bag then ran downstairs. When I got into the car we hugged. “What bad decision are we making at the mall?” Asami asked as she drove. “I need to pick up some outfits to make Linny wanna come home and fuck me in her office.” I said. “Please wipe down the office after you two are done but we are gonna pick the best outfits.” Asami said. “I really appreciate your help.” I said. “No problem! This is fun and you can help me pick out something I can wear for Korra.” Asami said. I nodded. “Also did you and Lin have to fuck in my closet?” Asami asked.
“Sorry.” I said. “It’s fine but like really?” Asami asked. “Blame Lin, she's the one that dragged me into the closet.” I said. “But you liked it.” Asami said. “Of course I did, how could I not?” I asked. Asami shook her head. We arrived at the mall and went inside. I was looking for lingerie and whatever makes me look like an assistant. We looked around in a shop trying to find something. “What about this?” Asami asked and held up an emerald green lace teddy bodysuit.
“So my pussy is just gonna be out.” I said. Asami laughed. “Hmm ok.” I said and took it. We continued to walk around. “What about this,” I grabbed a set for Asami. It was a dark red bra and panty set that came with garter belts. “Oooo.” Asami said and took it. “I think you’d look good.” I said. “I’m gonna get it.” Asami said. I nodded and we continued to walk around till Asami stopped me. “If you get it, I’ll get it.” Asami said and pointed at a set. It was a light blue bra and panty skirt set with ruffles and garter belts along with a collar leash.
“Does it come in green?” I asked. “No but it comes in pink.” Asami said. “I’ll take it.” I said. Asami grabbed a pink set for me and a light blue set for her. We paid for our outfits then went looking for an assistant outfit for me. My eyes widened as I had an idea. “Asami I need a tight pencil skirt. I'm gonna just wear one of Lin’s white button ups. She loses her mind when I wear one of them.” I said. Asami nodded and dragged me into a store. She found me a black pencil skirt that had a tiny slit in it then she grabbed some black stockings.
I paid for my stuff then Asami took me home. When I got home I realized it was almost Lin’s lunch time. “Oh god!” I shouted and tossed my bags on the floor then washed my hands. I don’t even know what to make! I opened the fridge and noticed there was left over noodles. I heated them up then packed up when they were done. I got everything together then rushed off to the station. I didn’t see Mako when I got there but shrugged it off and went upstairs. I knocked on the door.
“Come in.” Lin said. I went inside and closed the door behind me. “Hi honey.” I said. “Hello hon.” Lin said. “I’m sorry I’m a little late. I went out with Asami and lost track of time.” I said as I sat on the couch. “It’s ok baby.” Lin said and came to sit next to me. Lin took the lunch and I just relaxed as she ate. “Did you eat?” Lin asked. “Linny please.” I sighed out. “You need to eat.” Lin told me. “You need to come home.” I said. “ I told you I have to stay here for a while. I'll be home soon.” Lin said.
“When is soon?” I asked. “I wish I could tell you.” Lin said. “I just miss you.” I said softly. “I miss you too.” Lin said. Once she finished eating I laid my head in her lap. She ran her fingers through my hair. “What did you and Asami do?” Lin asked. “Shopping.” I said. “Of course.” Lin said. “I’m a girl, it's what I do.” I said. Lin just nodded. I closed my eyes and just relaxed into Lin’s touch.
I was slightly shaken awake. “Come on baby girl.” Lin said softly. “Five more minutes.” I whined. “No baby, you can’t stay here the whole night. Let’s go home.” Lin said. She picked me up and carried me out of her office. “Home?” I asked. “Yes baby home.” Lin said. Lin sat me in her car and buckled me up then took me home. She carried me up to our apartment. “Are these the things you bought while with Asami?” Lin asked. “Yes.” I said. Lin picked up the bags then took me into the bedroom. I was laid down but I quickly sat up. “Shower.” I said. “I’ll start your shower then I have to go back to work.” Lin said.
“No stay.” I said. “Hon I have to,” “No.” I said as I got up and gave her a hug. “Ok, ok. I’ll stay tonight but tomorrow,” I nodded. “I know, I know. Just stay with me for the night.” I said. Lin kissed my head then we took a shower. She washed my body then I washed hers. “Asami knows we fucked in her closet.” I said. “She does?” Lin asked. I nodded my head. “Well if she and Kya know then that means everyone else knows as well and as they should. Everyone needs to know you’re mine.” Lin said.
“Are the hickeys not enough for everyone to know who I belong to?” I asked. “Nope.” Lin said. I rolled my eyes. “You know it’s not enough, that's why you kept screaming my name and didn’t you say how you belonged to me while I was three fingers deep inside of you.” Lin said as she pulled me close to her. “Lin.” I said. “I’m surprised you took three fingers, do you think you can do that again for me?” Lin asked. “Oh you wanna fuck me now?” I asked. “Unless you don’t want to.” Lin said. I thought about my plan and I’m not gonna let her ruin it!
As horny as I am, I must keep my legs closed. I’m gonna make her wait. “I want us to cuddle tonight.” I said. “Ok.” Lin said and kissed my cheek. I smiled. We finished our shower together. Lin dried me off then helped me put on my nightgown. She brushed my hair then laid me down. “I can’t believe I fell asleep in your office.” I said. “You had a long day of being out with Asami.” Lin said. “I know but still. I’m surprised that you let me sleep for so long.” I said. “I didn’t want to wake you.” Lin said as she put on her tank top.
“Mhm sure.” I said. “It’s true, you were sleeping so peacefully.” Lin said. “I’ll sleep even more peacefully when you come to lay with me.” I said. “I’m coming.” Lin said as she got into the bed. I laid my head on her chest and she rubbed circles on my back.
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fatmasc · 2 years
Link
“Li insisted that if the fashion industry really wants to be size-inclusive, not just say they're size-inclusive, it needs to focus on the things that matter to plus-size women. Focus on how the clothes fit and look on bigger bodies; don't just add inches to the pattern. Make trendy clothes, not Misses department clothes. Just treat plus-size women like they matter as much as thinner women.“
I keep reading interviews where plus size models and designers say the same thing, and yet the fashion industry refuses to understand how to engage plus size consumers
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cocklessboy · 10 months
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The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.
I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.
And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!
We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.
There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.
Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.
Except...
I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.
I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.
The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.
Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".
There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.
And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.
His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.
I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.
That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.
I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.
Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.
Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.
If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.
It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.
I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.
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six-of-ravens · 1 year
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tomorrow's the day mom has to take a cab to the hospital for her appointment, and everyone's kinda nervous about it since she hasn't gone to an appointment alone since before the pandemic, but also we kinda decided her taking a cab will be a good test as to whether she can actually use the city's handibus/handi-taxi service again. It's basically the same as getting a cab -- in fact the city often sends a cab instead of a bus. You pay for both with transit tickets, the mode of transport you get just depends on where you live and where you're going I think.
anyway I'm less worried about the actual cab aspect and more worried that a) she won't remember where to go for her appointment/be able to navigate the hospital, or b) she won't go at all and will try to lie about it. but, well, there's only one way to find out.
#she's nervous about it too but she also has anxiety so i can't tell if shes just anxious bc she doesn't often go out alone#or if she's genuinely going to have problems#dad refused to ask for time off to take her (he could've told his job he had a medical appt and they would've given him the day nbd but no)#and he's been doing the thing where he just complains constantly about it bc he's expecting someone else to step in and take over but#he doesn't want to solve the problem himself even though there's a clear solution OR actually ask with real words.#so between that and him unwisely jumping for the first job offered instead of taking something part time or waiting until may#when mom's last 2 appts are over and shes signed up for the handibus system again#i was getting kind of frustrated...#so i was like. fine. you say you talked to mom and she said she's okay with taking a cab so then you can do that.#I think she only said yes bc she kind of nods along with whatever and only thinks about it later bc every convo lately is#'oh tuesday i have to take TWO CABS to the hospital and home'#yeah she's doing the same thing dad does where she just insinuates that she doesn't like the situation but doesn't openly ask for help#so ANYWAYS. im frustrated with both of them and im like. you are going to take a cab then#you'll be taking them to the rest of your appts anyway just in a slightly different form#so im not taking the afternoon off#and i just hope nothing goes terribly wrong and mom's capable and just anxious bc if something does go wrong I'll feel horribly guilty#but like....yeah. is mom actually incapable of getting herself through a hospital to her physio office or is she just anxious bc#she's been relying on my dad to take her to everything for 2 years and never leaves the house on her own and is out of practice?#remains to be seen#i will be relieved when tomorrow is over though#then i just have to worry about her appt at the beginning of may. which hopefully dad will be available for since his current job seems to#be off to a rocky start (tbh i think he's just too old to be working delivery truck jobs. sorry dad. but technology has outpaced him)#but anyway hopefully dad can take her to that and if not I'll have to bc there's been too much violence at train stations lately#and her appt for the handibus is of course in a train station#i hope i don't have to take her bc I'm going to the comic expo the week before and it's going to be annoying to then be gone again#but yeah anyway i hate this. why couldn't dad get a part time job where he has some control over his shifts at least#he's so ingrained in this idea that you can never take time off or ask to go to appointments or anything bc that makes you a Bad Employee#but it's like....dude youre semi-retired and you are the primary caretaker for your wife. i don't mind stepping up sometimes but also#can you pls remember that before making bug life decisions??
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monicahar · 11 months
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“what are you doing?”
you comically cower behind his back even further.
“hiding.”
“...why?”
“because there's a flipping lion in the room with us, JING YUAN. that's what.” you snap back angrily.
if you're wondering how you got into this predicament—it's not that far from being akin to a kidnapper leading on a child with sweets and delicacies.
under the guise of work and a few promised cuddles, he had made you follow his steps into his home—now with you glued to his body like it's your own lifeline. the snow-white lion snugly lies down by the only exit of the room you're both occupying—having just introduced herself when it came to jing yuan for a few pets, scaring the bejeebers out of you when its fur had grazed the back of your thighs all of a sudden.
the lion only shows confusion yet complies when jing yuan coaxed her to go away for a few moments. in other words—for you to take a breather.
in response to your much evident suffering and growing impatience, a mirthful laugh escapes him, craning his head to look at you over his shoulder to throw you a small mischievous grin “it's just my cat. i don't see the problem.”
“that's fully grown lion, you scoundrel!” you hit his back weakly, whisper-yelling as if said lion would attack you if you spoke any louder. “a-ah...it's looking at me weirdly. it's definitely thinking of how delicious i am!”
“mimi is very gentle. i doubt she's thinking of such a thing.”
you sink further in his shadow when the lion catches your wary gaze with a tilt of its head. “jing, please. it may like you, but i doubt that a territorial species would enjoy having a stranger around its person bubble.”
“you're free to leave anytime, darling. i'm not forcing you to stay.” he says coyly.
“with how your adorable little mimi is standing right by the door—i doubt i can leave of my own accord.”
“so you think she's adorable? good to hear that.” oh, now he has selective hearing?
“jing yuan. please.” you kneel down and tug on his robes pleadingly, catching him off guard to the point he has now decided to fully turn towards you in mild surprise. “i really don't know how to deal with this! i don't dislike her or anything, i'm just super scared that she won't like me and would—”
“calm down.” your lover couches down before you, hand raising to pat your head. “she doesn't bite. i promise.”
“how are you so sure?” you question incredulously, ignoring the way your heartbeat quickens at his actions. “even if she's domesticated, she's still an animal that thrives on her own survival instincts.”
“dearest, would i really have taken in a pet if it was openly feral?”
“yep. you would.” you reply in a heartbeat.
his eye twitches in return.“ahem—okay, so as i was saying,” standing up to his full height, he stretches out a hand towards you, staring at you softly as he does so. “we both know i adore delicate and gentle things, [name]. mimi is exactly that—hence why i didn't mind taking her in and burdened you with meeting her.”
you raise a brow. he shrugs, opting to resign upon your obvious reluctance on the matter.
“truthfully, i wished to see my two favourite companions to bond and get along with my own two eyes,” he heaves an apologetic huff, a tad bit disappointed whilst you only stare in surprise, “but if you're really uncomfortable with it then i suppose i shouldn't force you.”
he helps you up with ease when you finally put your hand on his, hastily padding off the dust that was caught in your clothes upon kneeling down.
grasping your hand comfortingly to calm your nerves, you hate that it work flawlessly upon his touch.
“let's go?”
you were about to nod—until your gaze catches the lion's once more.
...pretty eyes.
snowmoon.
your heart clenches at the realisation.
“on second thought...” you trail off, watching as the mammal sits up in anticipation at your eye contact. jing yuan raises a brow at you, “i think i'll try interacting with her.”
he huffs out a deep chuckle, “really, you don't have to—”
“mimi?” you call out, leaning sideways to look past behind your lover's tall figure. he does the same, turning his head over his shoulder to look at the same direction you're fixated on.
the lion perks up, and starts walking towards you. you grin, but not before whispering back to jing yuan,
“if she actually bites me, we're breaking up.”
“no promises.”
you finally pat the lion's head after about an hour of excessive whining it'll bite you, finally havin found the courage to actually see it as a mere domesticated cat whilst glaring daggers at the owner.
“mimi...attack that bad guy.” you point at him, face still looking smug as ever.
“she won't listen to y—” said lion pounces on him.
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idek what this is fiakehwjbsksbw i cant write no more man,,,,*/proceeds to make another jingyuan drabble in google doc
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ickadori · 2 months
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“You’re my boyfriend, Zayne, not my doctor.”
You huff as he shakes out a multivitamin gummy into the palm of his hand to join the rest of your pills that you had been forgetting —neglecting— to take.
“Is it not a boyfriend’s duty to look after his girlfriend’s health? If so, I have no problem ending this relationship to reinstate you as my patient.” His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you huff again, this time louder than the last, and thrust your hand out so he can drop the pills and gummies into it. “Smart choice.”
He slides you a prepared glass of water, the condensation leaving a wet streak across the counter, and he wipes it up with a paper towel. Your fingers close around the glass as you go to take the first pill, only for his voice to make you freeze.
“Have you eaten breakfast yet? Taking those on an empty stomach will make you nauseous.” He’s moving towards the pantry before you can even answer.
You blink at his back as your thumb idly rubs at the white pill. “It will? Hm…” Maybe that’s why you had felt violently ill every time you took your medicine - you were a chronic breakfast-skipper. “No, I haven’t eaten yet.”
“Does homemade pancakes, eggs, and sausages sound fine to you?” Your mouth waters at the thought, and your stomach voices its approval with a low growl. “I’ll take as a yes.” His voice is amused as he turns his head to look at you over his shoulder, and you shoot a bashful smile his way before placing your pills a bit to the side so they’re out of the way.
“Do you even have time to make all that? You have a surgery this afternoon, don’t you?” A sudden wave of guilt comes crashing over you, and your eyebrows pull together as you watch him grab all the ingredients. Zayne took care of people at work all day, and nearly everyday, and now here he was taking care of you in the small slot of time he had to relax before being thrust back into work, and all because you’re adverse to taking a few pills.
“There’s plenty of time left before I have to head in and start preparing. Don’t worry.” He assures, and you prop your chin up on your fist with a quiet sigh, knowing it’s no use trying to convince him of anything different.
He works quickly yet efficiently as he prepares everything, his gaze drifting over to you every so often. Soon enough, your apartment is filled with the scent of a delicious smelling breakfast and a plate filled with food is being placed down in front of you along with a fork.
Zayne props his forearms on the marble of the island you’re sat at and nods towards your food. “Eat.”
“A please would be nice.”
“A thank you would be nice.”
“A kiss would be nice.”
“Would it?” A smile tugs at his lips, and you nod with a hum as you pick up your fork. “I think so, too. Perhaps I’ll give you one once your plate is empty and those pills are gone.”
“Pinky promise?” You hold your pinky out to him, and he gives a soft shake of his hair, black hair swishing as he lets out a soft chuckle and twines his finger with yours.
“You’re such a child sometimes.”
“I keep you young.” You cut off a section of your pancakes and stuff it into your mouth, the sweet taste of the syrup coating your tastebuds and making you sigh. “An yawt.” You say around a mouthful of food, and he raises a brow as he moves your glass of water closer to you, but not before using his evol to make it ice cold.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full - you’ll choke.”
You swallow before speaking, fork already moving to gather another bite.
“So? You’re a doctor, you can just give me the heimlich.” It’s his turn to sigh.
“Just eat your food.”
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joelsgreys · 6 months
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strawberry
Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader
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summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.
warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.
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He’s fucked you plenty of times before.
But never like this. No, never, ever like this.
He’s relentless.
His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.
It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.
Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.
No, he was pushing you past your limits.
Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.
“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”
“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”
“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”
Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.
“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.
“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”
Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”
You had been so certain that you could.
Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”
Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.
You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.
His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.
You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.
Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.
“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”
His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.
The man you belonged to, the man you loved.
Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—
“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”
Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
“But Daddy, I just can’t—”
You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.
And you really, really can’t.
He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”
“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.
Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”
“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”
It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”
Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.
“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”
Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.
“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”
“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”
“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”
Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”
Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.
“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”
“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”
In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.
“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”
“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”
His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”
“For using the safe word—”
Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”
Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”
“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”
“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”
“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”
“I should’ve listened to you.”
He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”
You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”
“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”
“Really? You promise?”
Joel holds up his pinky.
“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.
“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”
You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.
“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”
“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”
“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”
You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”
Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.
You trace his collarbone with your index finger.
“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”
“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”
“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”
He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”
You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”
There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.
Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”
The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.
My good girl.
My perfect girl.
I’m s’proud of you.
I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.
After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.
“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”
You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”
“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”
“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”
Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.
He knows that. Of course he knows that.
It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.
You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.
“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.
“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”
“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”
You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.
“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.
“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.
“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”
You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.
“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.
Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”
You stop him and point to the empty bowl.
“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”
He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.
“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.
“Too late.”
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divider credit to @saradika 🍓
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marvelfilth · 6 months
Text
Jealous girl (18+)
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader
Warnings: secret relationship, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, fingering, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Natasha's in her 30s), praise, pet names, orgasm denial
Summary: your best friend Peter needs help, Natasha's not happy about it at all.
Masterlist
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You're standing in the kitchen when it happens.
Peter barges in, his hair a tangled mess, his sweatshirt inside out. You jump away from Natasha's arms, making her spill her protein shake. She shoots him a dirty look, her lips curling up upon registering his disheveled state.
You try to keep the annoyance from showing on your face, but you know you're doing a terrible job when Peter winces apologetically, throwing a bag full of Ben and Jerry's on the counter.
"Code red," he pants.
You straighten immediately, trying to shoo Natasha away with a look, but, instead of leaving, she makes herself comfortable on the counter with an excited glint in her eyes.
You've been friends with Peter ever since he ran you over with his bike in kindergarten, leaving you with a tiny scar on your shin, and a fear of any two-wheeled object. Your friendship grew over the years, and soon enough you were joined at hip, going to the same school and college, tagging along on his patrols, mainly to keep him out of the police radars.
"What's wrong?" You ask, fearing the worst. "Is Venom acting up again? Is it Felicia? I swear to God, if it's her again I'm gonna-"
That's when you decided to make a secret code to help you stay under the radar. In hindsight, you could've thought of something more elaborate than code red, code green and code yellow, but neither of you had enough brain power for that.
"It's MJ!" He cuts you off, shifting on his feet.
You stammer, looking at Natasha for help, but she appears equally puzzled. "I didn't think she had it in her, to be honest," she says, taking a sip of her shake.
"What?" Peter yelps, before jumping up, his hands flying up in an X motion. "No! She's not- No! She's not a villain, or a criminal, or anything like that."
You decide you've had enough of his blabbering, so you take hold of his shoulders and corner him against the counter. "What is it, Peter?"
He takes a deep breath, his cheeks painted crimson, and blurts out, "I really need you to kiss me."
You jump away like you've been burned, shooting an alarmed look to Natasha, but she doesn't register it, her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, her knuckles white from the grip she has on her protein shake. You think you can hear it creak.
You turn back to look at your best friend, who's blissfully unaware of your relationship with the most dangerous person in this building, just like everyone else on the team.
Natasha's reluctance to share her love life with her teammates came to bite her in the ass.
"No, wait. That came out wrong." He winces, his eyes darting to Natasha. You can hear him gulp when their eyes meet.
"I think you were pretty clear, Parker," she gritts, jumping off the counter, and comes to stand behind you, hovering over your shoulder.
You send him an encouraging look, taking hold of Natasha's hand behind your back.
"I have a date with MJ-"
"Doesn't explain why you need my- Y/n to kiss you."
You shoot her a warning look. "Let him finish."
Her jaw clenches, but she relents, nodding to the boy to continue.
He looks like he regrets every life choice that led him to this moment.
"Okay, so. I have a date with MJ, and I planned it all out, right? But… um… there's a problem." He clasps his hands, thumbs fiddling. You stay silent in fear of him closing off, and patiently wait for him to continue. "I've never had a girlfriend before, and I've been kissed twice, if you count that one time when Ned fell on top of me and kind of swallowed my face." Natasha snorts, and Peter blushes deep red, his eyes pleading. "I need practice because otherwise I'll just embarrass myself, and she'll hate me forever."
You feel Natasha tense up again, and you're ready to ask her to leave, but she beats you to it, speaking up before you could open your mouth. "I don't think MJ would like you kissing someone else right before your date." Her tone is even, carefully emotionless, but you feel the way her breathing shakes slightly, her grip on your hand tightening.
Peter looks at you, brows set in confusion. "But it's Y/n, she doesn't count as someone!" You huff, indignant. He winces, but goes on. "I could ask Ned, but I don't think he has any experience, so please, please do this for me?"
You turn around to face Natasha. "Can you leave us?"
Her eyes narrow, lips curled. "You're not kissing him." Her hands land on your waist possessively, and you're suddenly turned around. She lowers her chin to your shoulder, lips grazing the shell of your ear as she speaks, "Listen to me very carefully, Parker."
Peter gulps, and takes a step back, his eyes wide and alert.
"You're going to leave and find someone else to help with your little problem. We'll pretend this conversation never took place, and you'll never even think about kissing Y/n again. Am I being clear?" She almost growls, her eyes flashing.
Peter nods dumbly, before hurrying to the door. He stops halfway to shoot you a bewildered look over his shoulder. "Wait… Are you two-"
"Out, Parker," Natasha barks, her face half buried in the crook of your neck. You blush, and wave your friend goodbye, grateful when he disappears behind the door without any further questions.
"Tasha," you whine, turning in her hold. "That wasn't necessary."
She scoffs, and picks you up with practiced ease, settling you on the counter and taking place between your parted thighs. "Yes it was." She sucks at the tender skin just below your collarbone, leaving a stinging bruise. "I can't believe you wanted me to leave." She squeezes your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Her mouth is all over your neck - sucking, biting and licking, claiming. You're sure no amount of concealer will be enough to hide the marks.
"Natty," you whimper, "he's my friend, I wanted to talk some sense into him."
She hums, the skin on the underside of your jaw pulled between her teeth. "I did the same thing, no?" Her fingers sneak past the waistband of your shorts, but you're quick to catch her wrist.
"What are you doing?" You look around, panting heavily. "What if someone walks in?"
"Daddy," you moan, pushing her face lower. Her fingers feel so heavenly that you don't even care about anyone walking in - you need her tongue, now. "Please."
You're pushed flat against the counter then, your back on the cold marble, your ass hanging right off the edge. Your fingers disappear in her tresses when she bends down to place a kiss on your clothed cunt.
"Let them see who you belong to," she murmurs, entering your aching core. You bite back a moan, arching in her hold, your pussy clenching around her long digits. Fleeting kisses are placed all over your stomach, her fingers curling inside your heat.
She chuckles, gently biting on your hip bone. "So needy already? I barely started." She adjusts the angle, fastening the pace, but your shorts get in the way, making you huff impatiently.
"Take them off, please," you whimper, clenching around her.
"And when someone walks in, and sees you spread wide open, what then? You think I'd allow anyone to see this pretty pussy?" Her fingers scissor inside you, stretching your walls.
"N-no."
"That's right," she hums, "because it belongs to me." She pulls out to land a short slap on your slit. "Perfect little hole for daddy to play with."
She teases your folds, collecting wetness before pushing her fingers into your mouth. You eagerly suck them in, letting her fuck your mouth, tips of her fingers pushing against your throat. "Such an obedient girl," she murmurs, dark eyes fixated on your lips. You squirm, hips rocking against her abdomen with desperate need of release.
She pulls out her fingers, smearing your slick mixed with spit over your chin.
"I need you," you whine, catching her wrist and leading her hand lower, your panties sticking to your drenched cunt.
She takes the fabric in her fist, and tugs it up, making it press against your pulsing clit. You moan loudly, throwing your head back. She kneads your supple breast with her other hand, and you arch into her, pulling her closer to your aching core with your hips.
"We'll tell everyone tonight," she murmurs against your lips. "But right now you need to be a good girl and take everything daddy gives you."
You nod, feeling your pussy clench around nothing, begging for Natasha's fingers to return. She tugs on your lower lip with her teeth and plunges three fingers inside, hitting a spongy spot deep in your heat. You arch off the counter, pressing against her front, your legs clenched hard around her hips. She grunts lowly, setting a slow pace, making sure to explore your pussy with each thrust, collecting your wetness when she pulls out only to push it back inside. You bury your face in her shoulder, your fingers disappear in her hair, tugging at the tresses.
"Good?" She whispers against your ear, spreading her fingers inside, her thumb firm on your clit.
You gasp, and bite down on the muscle of her shoulder, nodding with your eyes clenched shut. "S-so good, daddy."
She hums, her full lips pulling in a smirk, and starts circling your pulsing nub. You throw your head back, moaning loudly, and she takes the opportunity to paint your neck purple, sucking on the tender skin hard enough to leave bruises.
"M'gonna… I'm gonna come," you whimper when she hits your sweet spot, making your toes curl.
"Did I say you could, babygirl?" She chuckles into your neck, making sure to hit the spot with each thrust. You shake your head, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows in effort to stop your approaching orgasm, your body as tense as a drawn bowstring. "That's right, baby," she cooes, kissing the corner of your mouth, "you're not allowed to."
Your heart drops to your stomach, torn between wanting to be Natasha's good girl and giving in to the pleasure. “Please, please let me…” you whine, buckling against her hand.
She pulls away, her eyes level with yours, and you want to sob from how good she feels inside you, your pussy clenching around her slender fingers.
“You’ll hold it for me,” she says, “and I'll make up for it later tonight.” You almost huff in frustration, knowing that you'll have to walk around the Compound painfully wet for the rest of the day.
She grabs your jaw, seemingly reading your thoughts. “And don't even think about touching yourself.”
She pulls away abruptly and tugs you off the counter before fixing your shorts and stepping away. You blink rapidly, disoriented by the sudden change, your pussy aching in the sweetest way.
Sam enters the kitchen a second later.
You subtly wipe your mouth clean, and even out your breathing while he rummages the upper shelves. Natasha's eyes glint with mischief as she slowly wipes her fingers with a paper towel.
"You up for a training session?" She asks Sam, and you shoot her a furious look. Your glare does nothing to the redhead, as she continues watching you silently, a teasing smirk pulling at her mouth.
Sam scoffs, looking between you two. "Like you weren't about to get nasty two seconds ago."
Natasha chuckles, her eyes flashing. "About to? You need to work on your observation skills, Wilson."
Sam stills, his eyes darting between you two, and you look away, knowing that nothing could hide your red cheeks and bruised lips.
He chokes on his water the moment he sees your neck. "Damn, Romanoff," he gasps, coughing. "Right here?! This is a sacred place! I cook here!"
Natasha hums, shrugging carelessly. "I eat here," she retorts, and you can tell by the crinkles near her eyes she's about to say something that's gonna make you want to bury yourself. "Actually, I was about to devour something really delic-"
"Natasha!" You shriek, tugging her away from the kitchen, but not before quietly apologizing to Sam.
She laughs quietly, following you to the bedroom. "I think we're banned from the kitchen now."
She thinks. You scoff, shaking your head. Trust Natasha to go from a full secrecy mode to telling every living soul about your sex life.
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sttoru · 7 days
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your roommate, toji, can’t pay rent - again. he promises to pay you back soon, but you’re tired of his behaviour.
tags. (perv) roommate!toji fushiguro x female reader. smut, pōrn with plot kinda. dirty talk. rough. p in v -> unprotected. crēampie. fīngering. praise. reader gets called ‘princess, girl’. degrādation. toji’s a womaniser and asshole, like i’m talking dusty, manipulative asshole. unestablished relationship.
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“that shit again?” toji rolls his eyes as he lazily switches between the channels on the television. he knows exactly what you’re going to say next. your complaining has a certain pattern that he’s picked up on.
he smacks his lips after being done with his snack. your snack - the one you put your name on before putting in the fridge. the dark-haired man shrugs, “i told ya, girl. i ain’t got the money this month.”
your head feels like it’s going to explode with anger. you know toji has the money. you saw him count the bills on his bed just yesterday, when you passed by his room to go to yours. “yeaaaah - gambled it all away, right?”
the usual excuse he uses. you’re sick and tired of hearing that for the nth time. it’s the same story every month. toji’s a lazy bastard. he’s living off your salary at this point. unapologetically.
“yep,” toji yawns, not even attempting to sound convincing, “got that right.” he knows you’re not going to do anything about it, so he takes advantage of that fact. you’re all bark, no bite.
you always tell him that you’re going to kick him out if he doesn’t pay, though you never take the action you swear on doing. toji has you wrapped around his finger and he knows.
even now, he notices the way you try not to look down at his body. his black shirt is slightly lifted, showing his happy trail that stops at the waistband of his boxers. the fact that he’s sitting on the couch with his legs spread only makes the sight more appealing.
“well, pack your bags then,” you cross your arms after succeeding into averting your attention to the problem at hand. you point at the door with a nod of your head, “i want you to leave by tonight.”
toji struggles to hold back a chuckle. he’ll play along for your sake and act upset by the situation. the tall man sighs and throws his hands up in defeat, trying to gain some pity, “aw, c’mon. have some mercy on me, yeah?”
you’re the one rolling your eyes this time. you’re not going to be naive about this anymore. you’re not going to fall into his trap. you stomp your way over to his room and grab the bag he uses for the gym, aggressively filling it with a bunch of his clothes.
“you’re going out,” you hiss as you walk back to your living room. you throw the filled bag at toji’s chest without hesitation. you know that you’re no match to a grown man, but you’re too fired up to care, “out. i don’t need some useless bum like you in my house.”
toji’s grin drops. his jaw clenches as he gets his bag thrown at him. you seem more serious about this. normally, you’d just cuss him out and lock yourself up in your room. you’re slowly breaking out of the helpless cycle you were in.
“move it,” you huff. your patience is wearing thin. you stand close to toji, your legs nearly touching. you’re towering over him as he sits on the couch, which gives you all the needed confidence. though if he were to stand up it’d be the exact opposite.
toji frowns and starts to realise that his usual manipulation tactics won’t work. he’s trying to think of other ways to distract you of your current dissatisfaction. some more… direct ways.
“you don’t mean that,” his voice turns husky. a real deep tone he only uses when he needs something out of a woman. toji’s veiny hand moves to the side of your thigh, slowly crawling up your skin while he gauges your reaction.
he’s never attempted distracting you in a sexual manner. perhaps now is the perfect moment to try out if it works.
your breath hitches as you feel his touch on your bare thigh. such a warm touch. you’re not going to act like toji hasn’t been attractive to you all this time. his cocky attitude is annoying, yes, but the nonchalance is also a huge turn on.
you’re in a daze. your rational mind is screaming at you to kick that man to the curb—to let him suffer the consequences of his actions—but you’re weak. you’ve sworn never to get involved with him intimately. you wouldn’t want to sleep with an asshole like him.
“do not,” your voice is shaky, revealing the truth behind your contradicting words. you can’t resist him and you’re slowly realising it. you don’t want to end up as all the other women toji’s charmed with his words and actions. you promised yourself that you wouldn’t fall for him.
and yet here you are.
“i can repay you in a different way, y’know?” toji hums, his other hand landing on your left thigh. he rubs your plush flesh up and down in a slow manner. his eyes watch yours intently. you’re nervous and it’s painfully obvious to him. he suppresses a victorious grin, “y’ sure you don’t wanna, princess?”
you’re as weak as they come. toji’s toying with you and you’re allowing it. you’re no different than those women he fucks every other day when he needs something from them. be it money or just stress relief.
you tremble as you feel his fingers graze against the insides of your thighs.
“i take the silence as a yes, hm?” toji chuckles haughtily. he cups the back of your thighs, just below your ass, pushing your body closer to his. you’re standing between his legs and his head is close to your chest. he looks up at you, “use y’r words f’me, pretty thing.”
your brain stops working. you’re so easy. all toji has to do is call you by those alluring names and you’re all his. his callused fingers stop at the hem of your shorts. they continue to sensually rub the material, inching closer to your clothed cunt.
“say you want it,” toji whispers, his raspy voice making your knees weak. you want it, but you’re stubborn enough to deny your desires. you’re throbbing, aching and wet for him. your eyes catch a glimpse of the bulge in his grey sweatpants.
“no, i won’t,” you try to keep your dignity, however you’re slowly losing it. it’s inevitable. you’re putty in his hands. you let out a high pitched whine when toji ‘accidentally’ slides his fingertips back and forth over your clothed pussy, “mgh—okay, okay. fuck—i want you. need you.”
you blurt the words out before you can stop them from leaving your mouth. you silently curse at yourself. your bodily desires have fully taken over. you hold onto toji’s broad shoulders, your grip on them so tight that it sends a shiver down his spine.
he knew that you’d give in sooner or later. the dark-haired man watches as you lower your head, placing it in the crook of his neck to hide yourself from him. he coos condescendingly—
“mhm. tha’s more like it,” toji wastes no time to pull your shorts down to your ankles. he licks his lips, breathing heavily against your bare shoulder. he can’t wait to take this further. he groans the moment your wetness makes contact with his hand, “shiiittt, she’s fuckin’ wet. bet you dreamt about this.”
your panties are discarded on the floor not a second later. you whine in embarrassment, though still spread your legs. you feel ashamed because of how quickly you gave in to his charms. you thought you’d be different, but alas.
your roommate is one hell of a womaniser.
“y’ think i don’t see those lewd looks you give me?”toji clicks his tongue. his green irises are shining brightly. he enjoys the feeling of your sloppy cunt against his bare hand. his thick fingers rub between your folds, teasing your entrance, “nasty little girl. got me wanting to fuck you silly every single time.”
the desire has been mutual all this time. you’ve been driving toji crazy since day one. the way you think you’re being subtle when checking him out never fails to make him hard. or when you walk around the apartment in those skimpy clothes—those shorts that define your ass so well.
he’s sure that you are doing it all on purpose. not wearing a bra, staring at him for too long when he comes out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist, sneaking glances at the outline of his fat cock. you’re not as clever as you think you are.
toji finally has you in his grasp and he’s not letting go. he’ll pound you to the mattress, until you’re satisfied and overstimulated.
he’ll get revenge for all those times you’ve (un)intentionally left him hard. all those times you left him sexually frustrated. all those times he had to resort to other things to relieve himself. all those times he had to waste his cum on his hands or on other women.
all those times he couldn’t fuck you—his pretty little roommate.
“you’re a pervert,” you whimper as you feel toji slip two fingers inside you without warning. his eyes nearly roll back from how tight you’re gripping his digits. it’s going to be so worth it once he’s got your pussy wrapped around his cock.
“yeah, but tha’s how you like ‘em,” toji laughs, not taking any offence to the accusation. he is a pervert when it comes to you and you secretly love it. the squelchy sounds echoing through the living space are all the evidence he needs, “no need to deny it. y’r cunt is doing all the talking for ya.”
you weakly punch his chest at his dirty words. he’s riling you up in both the best and worst ways possible. you moan and your hips shake from pleasure, feeling him curl his fingers up inside you. you hiccup and try to silence him, “shut up!”
toji loves seeing you deny your own feelings. it gives him so much power over you. he knows you’ll come back crawling to him when he’s done here.
after all, you’re stuck with him. literally. he’s not leaving this apartment any time soon. not when he’s got a cute roommate like you awaiting him whenever he comes back home.
soon enough, you end up in his bed. it smells like him. you’ve only imagined being in this situation. with him on top of you, between your legs, filling you to the brim with his cock. it’s huge—bigger than you thought it’d be. no wonder those other girls come back for more.
you can’t talk anymore. the only noises leaving your lips are moans—signs of the pleasurable sensations rushing through your body. your vision is blurry and all you can think of is this moment that you’ve waited for. to be dicked down by your roommate.
perhaps you’re the pervert here.
“bratty attitude nowhere to be found, heh,” toji snickers while his hips ram against yours. flop flop flop — it’s embarrassing how much noise your wet cunt is making. you’re dripping on his sheets while he’s splitting you open. he’s doing it so, so well. he grabs both your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head, giving you no chance to touch him.
toji pants as his thrusts increase in speed. he can’t keep his eyes away from you. you’re beautiful underneath him like this, on his bed, your body a piece of art he wishes to admire every single night. he smirks, “all you needed was some dick to shut that mouth of y’rs up, huh?”
you’re humiliated by how cheap you made yourself seem. you don’t respond to the man’s words and just wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in. toji grunts and slaps your thighs with his free hand, surprised by your actions, “fuck—didn’t know my roommate was such a slut in bed.”
your mouth hangs open. you’re sure you’re drooling by now. toji’s voice nearly becomes inaudible with how focused you are on the feeling of his cock. it’s hitting that right spot over and over again, the curve of his pink tip almost kissing your cervix.
“fffnghh, right there!” you moan loudly. you don’t care if the neighbours file noise complaints against you. they should’ve done so before, when toji had other women over. you remember how many times you had to put your earplugs in because your bastard of a roommate couldn’t keep it down.
the same bastard that’s fucking you so good right now. you can’t recall the amount of orgasms you’ve had already. toji didn’t even cum once and that’s only embarrassing you more. your inability to control yourself is pathetic. maybe not to toji though; he enjoys how easily he can make you spasm and squirt underneath him.
“i got’cha,” toji’s voice turns sweet for a split second once he sees how desperate you are for another mind blowing climax. if he knew you’d be this needy for him, he’d have taken you to bed long time ago.
“need you to say smthing f’me, ‘kay?” toji whispers and bites your earlobe, nibbling on it. his husky voice in your ear is like heaven. it makes you want to listen to whatever he has to say. you can hear the smirk in his voice when he increases his pace, “say that i don’t need to pay y’ back no more.”
you nearly choke on your own spit. toji is an asshole—manipulating your moment of weakness and vulnerability for his own benefit—and yet you allow him. you try to fight the urge to give in, but it’s too late.
“y-you don’t have to pay me back anymore,” you repeat with a whine and shake your head. it’s impossible to think rationally when you’ve got a fat dick all the way in your cunt, hitting all the right spots. your eyes roll back as you babble inaudible stuff in between moans, “promise, you don’t have to—mghhh!”
toji hisses at the feeling of you tightening up around him. you’re insatiable, wanting to continue until you’re able to milk every drop of cum out of his heavy balls. he’s never had a girl be so desperate for him. so dumb and easy.
“atta girl,” your roommate hums and moves his hands to lift your thighs. his inhuman pace only seems to increase with the change of positions. toji stares down at you from behind his black bangs, “no more whinin’ about money ‘n stuff, yeah?”
his gaze is a mix of pure lust and intimidation. you nod your head along to all he says, too cockdrunk to resist anything. you’re living the dream and you’re unwilling to ruin it, “y-yes, not gonna do it again.”
toji groans at the sound of your whiny voice. he’s going to make you addicted to him—that’s his ultimate goal. his hips slam against yours repeatedly, a slick trail of your fluids sticking to his pelvis, “shit, pussy’s sucking me in, princess.”
you can’t get enough of him and vice versa. the dark-haired man fails to keep his composure for a second, pushing his body weight on yours, caging you right against the mattress. he can’t stop his cock from throbbing each time it dives into your insides.
“gonna cum real deep in you,” toji grumbles. he’ll give you every drop, all the way into your womb. he’ll make you his woman for tonight and the many nights yet to come. if it’s left up to him, he’ll gladly fuck you like this every day, “be greedy ‘n take it all.”
you gasp and feel toji thrusting harder into your aching cunt. you didn’t think he’d be able to go faster. you mewl and scream about how good he feels, which only feeds toji’s big ego. he grips your thighs tightly, nails digging into the flesh.
“fuck!” white dots appear in your vision as you reach your peak once again. you feel like your heart stops beating for a second. you involuntarily start convulsing, legs shaking and hips bucking up to meet toji’s.
he hisses and closes his eyes, shooting his creamy load all the way inside of you. ropes of warm cum spurt out of his tip, filling your pussy like both of you have always imagined. he sighs and thrusts a couple more times, making sure no drop escapes your messy folds, “mhmmm, there we go, girl.”
you’re still dazed. you’re slack-jawed, your spit dripping down your chin. you’re more sleepy than ever. no one has made you feel this good in a while. toji watches you struggle to stay conscious and huffs proudly.
he rolls off you and lays down on his back, stretching his arms. he yawns—not bothering with aftercare at the moment. he’ll let you cool off first before he gets you a towel to clean up. toji tilts his head to the side and grins, “debt repaid.”
he’s said it so casually. you don’t notice what he’s implying until you’ve calmed down. your rationality comes back to you after a couple seconds, and when it does, your heart sinks to your stomach. your eyes widen as you recall what you’ve basically promised him.
you promised not to ask for the money he owes you ever again. oh, stupid you.
“wait—”
unfortunately for you, toji’s already snoring. his eyes are closed as he lays there like he hasn’t just rearranged your guts and manipulated you to say stuff you can’t take back. you scoff and rub your eyes, kicking your legs in frustration at your own naivety.
what a bastard.
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murdrdocs · 3 months
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repressed and desperately horny luke who has never seen a porn video vs new to camp reader who used to be able to watch it whenever they wanted but now can't even flick the bean in peace
oh and maybe reader who gives Luke a dirty polaroid or two they've been hiding before they leave camp for the fall
— 🦣
🦣 anon strikes again omg. this concept actually makes me all giddy i want it to be something Bigger hence the informal format but just follow me here okay.
just thinking about ya'll finding each other in a moment of need. fate, really, if either of you believed in the concept. you, grumpy and insatiable from lack of proper sexual satisfaction, and luke, knowing he's feeling something but he doesn't know how to expel the need. sure he jacks off sometime, but not nearly as much as a guy of his age usually would.
so there you are, grumbling about, eyes narrowed, mimicking the behavior of ares kids (your possible siblings but it's anyone's guess at this point) and luke just has to go and be the mediator, asking what's got you so down. of course, you're wound up so tight, and a little grateful that someone your age has asked the question because you can finally tell the truth.
out comes your dirty secrets. your longing for peace and quiet to get off. your slightly remorseful nature because you had no idea that you were that reliant on pornography to help you out. and luke is just standing there, ears reddening as he suddenly finds the trees behind you incredibly interesting.
but luke is a Problem Solver, so he awkwardly has a suggestion for you. "the showers right before the bonfire are usually pretty deserted. and for your ..." he scratches a nonexistent itch behind his ear. "other problem, my brothers have some old magazines i could lend to you."
you snort, arms folding as you pretend to be disinterested. but really anything would satiate you at this point. "what are they? women on motorcycles? maybe an old playboy mag?"
luke shrugs. "dunno. never seen 'em."
and it takes you a second. a really long, tense, and warm (for luke) second where you eye him up. noticing his stance, taking in his clipped words, how he said them. and it occurs to you that little demigod luke, having been at camp half blood since 14, has never seen what the world has to offer in the pornography department. or if he has, he hasn't seen the porn of today.
and unfortunately, it's impossible for you to fix his issue in naivety. there are no phones in camp and even if there were, you don't think the service out here would be all too good. which leaves you to improvise.
you do end up getting the mags from the hermes boys, critiquing their selection with a scrutinized glare at the pages, flicking through them with the edge of your shirt to avoid any remnants. and then you report back to luke, telling him to give them a look, prefacing it by telling him that things now are much more entertaining. slyly hinting at your ears being open if he wanted to give his opinion.
which, he does. standing awfully close to you at the bonfire one night, body turned just a little so he can speak lowly.
"there's ... things better than that out there?"
you nod, affirming his statement while attempting to hide a small smile. the magazines were barely pornography in your eyes, women in manufactured poses to appeal to men. skin artificially smoothed, their cunts shockingly dry, their poses so meticulous. it lacked the emotion and desire that you enjoyed to watch.
and poor luke didn't even know the half of it.
at least you do introduce him to what he could be consuming just before you leave camp that summer, sliding him two polaroids you'd managed to take.
one of you in the showers, body littered with clumps of suds. your skin shining from the overhead light which gleams from the water along your body. it's taken from a low angle, the side of your backside being the main focal point with your tits at the top just barely making the cut.
and then the other is much more lewd, showing luke what the magazines should have. you, on your back in a camp bed, wearing nothing but your standard issued shirt which is bunched up around the waist. your free hand is between your spread thighs, two fingers clearly singled out to spread your lips and reveal just how wet and shiny your cunt is. and after one of his many sessions of getting off over it, the post nut clarity manifests as hyper analyzing for luke.
he notices the familiar pair of shoes off to the corner, the pillowcase he had one of his brothers sneak in last summer, the stain he's never been able to get out of his fitted sheet.
and suddenly the picture has new meaning for him.
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