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#30 days of flame
ravewing · 11 months
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good morn tumblr . take some silly guys
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ustalochka · 2 months
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kazz-brekker · 6 months
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objectively i knew that publishing decides ahead of time which books they want to be successful, but it's really SO fascinating to see it play out in real time now that i work as a bookseller. like, we've had plenty of new releases by popular authors like rick riordan and cassandra clare since i started working at my store, and although the really big books sometimes get a piece of merch like a sticker or a little sign advertising the book, iron flame by rebecca yarros is the only book we've released so far that had a midnight release party, mini tote bags for pre orders, specially made pins and temporary tattoos, multiple decorations for the store including a huge poster and cut-outs of dragons to hang on the walls, and a special edition of the first book that's only slightly different from the original book but is selling just as well as the sequel. it's wild. if that publisher decided to push any other book as hard as they were pushing the special edition of fourth wing, that book would be a bestseller several times over. as it is, it makes me dizzy to think about how many copies of those books have sold in the last 24 hours.
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frecklystars · 3 months
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hi Keri, i hope you can find comfort in your day soon. <3 as for something i did today, i cooked a gnocchi dish and it turned out pretty good! -svblimes
@svblimes hi toast!!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
thank you for sending this in when i needed some asks/cheering up ;w; i appreciate you. and OOGH that sounds so yummy 🥺🥺🥺 that's so cool that you know how to cook something like that. especially with types of pasta/dumplings, i feel like those dishes are a little extra challenging to get the timing just right hahaha
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catsteinbooks · 3 months
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Good Omens 30 Day Challenge! (x)
Day 10: A moment that makes you laugh
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Every. Damn. Time.
This whole bit, where Crowley's just calmly asking for directions in his flaming Bentley and Tadfield's resident jackass R. P. Tyler is freaking out in his head, never fails to make me laugh. It's British Politeness(tm) taken to a ridiculous extreme, and I just love it.
There are actually many, many places throughout the entire show that make me laugh. Sometimes with all the depth and emotion we obsess over (with good reason) the humor gets left in the background, but it really is a very funny show. It's silly, it's weird, and I love that so much.
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becominghistapestry · 7 months
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FIRST GLANCE AT SUMMER
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View On WordPress
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flamestar126 · 8 months
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Venting
I am so exhausted.
I work in a school and there's this kid who I've been assigned to all day every day until they can get rid of them
Absolutely loves running around the school, outside the building, messing and throwing things.
They're too much of a high risk to keep in the school with all the other things happening.
Just sick of the crying, running, and screaming. I'm not at all trained for this specific type of kid. Plus all the other duties i had originally was plenty. Let me go back to my other demanding but manageable schedule lol.
I wanna teach not babysit
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ravewing · 11 months
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thinking about the parallels between flame and glory, how they both struggled with self image and projected their hatred onto the rest of the world, but also how differently they were able to cope with it- glory had other dragons she could lean on and rely on, which helped her finally be content with the dragon she is, but flame had nobody which led him to spiral downwards and only hate himself more
also this drawing looks unfinished and idk why
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empresskylo · 8 months
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cod men headcanons in an age gap relationship?
i have such a thing for age gaps...i blame society. also, i’m only including ghost, price, and alejandro because the other men are too young imo. ik some of their ages are debatable, so in my mind, ghost is at least 30.
Ghost
♡ honestly, i don't think my guy really gives a shit if there is an age difference between you two. like his morals are all skewed, and the last thing he'd waste time worrying about would be a *legal* age gap.
♡ being younger than him would just make his nicknames for you that much more adorable. he likes to add the words 'little' and 'tiny' in front of a lot of the things he calls you. "little mouse" "little dove" "tiny girl/boy"
♡ regardless of how much experience you have (with relationships, sex, etc) he will always act like he knows more than you. he can find himself treating you like you’re so innocent and new to everything--even if you do the same line of work as him, i.e. killing people. and it can definitely annoy you.
♡ it doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with or how many people you’ve killed; no matter what, he knows more than you. and honestly, even tho it can annoy you sometimes, him being so dominant is just super hot.
♡ “simon, i know how to do it” you whined, as he wrapped his arms around you, showing you how to properly use a sniper. you were used to so many other guns, but not snipers. “mhm,” he mocked, stepping away from you. when you shot the gun, you missed your target by quite a few feet. your cheeks warmed and you hesitated before looking back at simon. his arms were crossed over his chest as he eyed you. you could tell he had a smug smile plastered across his face under his mask. he did not need his ego inflated any more than it already was.
Price
♡ price was definitely concerned when he first realized he had feelings for you. he knew you were of age, but that didn't stop the odd feeling he got when he was around you--like he was taking advantage of you.
♡ and his way of flirting was to act like your father… he thought he was being nice, showing you how to do stuff, always having your back. but my god was he appalled when you were frustrated with him one day after he keep hounding you about something.
♡ “Ok, dad! i get it!” “what did you just call me?” You heard the anger in his tone. shit, you were getting too comfortable around your captain, you should not have teased him like that. “S-sorry, captain. I didn’t mean—“ He cut you off, clearly agitated for a different reason than you being smart with him. “is that how you view me, doll? like a father?” if you said yes, price would know he needed to back off. he could take a hint. “No… I… You just wouldn’t get off my back. I was just trying to be funny.” You felt so embarrassed as you explained yourself. Price got into your space and grabbed your chin in his hand, titling your head up to look at him. you gulped. “you wanna call me endearments? go ahead. but don’t ever call me that again.” he looked at you a moment longer before turning away. suddenly fueled with adrenaline, you called after him. “what about daddy?” Price spun around quicker than you could register before he was pushing you backward, his hand tight in your hair as he yanked your head back to look up at him again with a gasp. “fuckin’ brat,” he muttered, a sly smile crossing his lips.
♡ as much as price truly does not care about your sexual history, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on a bit knowing how much more innocent you were than him. you could have slept with a bunch of people for all he cared, but knowing you were that much younger than him, he knew he had more experience than you regardless. and something about that sparked a flame in his chest. he had a thing for wanting to show you the ropes.. but he definitely felt guilty about thinking that way. he wouldn’t have been any less attracted to you knowing you slept with a hundred other people. he knew you being “innocent” shouldn’t turn him on. but it did…
♡ he is very possessive of you. doesn’t like the idea of other men thinking they have a chance with you. but he can get a bit self-conscious whenever a younger man approaches you or checks you out. “you really wanna be with an old man like me?” he’d ask. as confident as he is, in the beginning of your relationship, being so much older than you made him second guess himself. shouldn’t you want to be with someone your own age? “jesus, price. you’re only 37. you act like you’re knocking on hell's door.” he’d start tickling you for your bratty remark, but it definitely placated some of his nerves.
♡ and since he has more experience dating wise, he’d say “i love you” pretty early on. he’s not dating you thinking it’s some fling. he’s serious about you. and he’s lived long enough to know when he’s in love. and he’s not afraid to say it.
♡ you were saying goodbye to price as he went off on a mission. he’d only be gone a few days, but you’d hate every minute of it. he kissed you, his mustache tickling your lip. “i love you,” he murmured when he pulled away. he smirked as he appraised your stunned face. and he’d turn and leave before you had a chance to process his words, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get them out of your head the whole time he was gone.
Alejandro
♡ definitely feels bad at first, like he’s taking advantage of you. he reminds you all the time to tell him if you’re uncomfortable. that you can say no. he just doesn’t want you to feel used.
♡ as he gets more confident in the way you want him, he starts to use it against you. same as ghost, he mocks you as if you’re so innocent and inexperienced. “see, this is what they call a—“ “Yes, Ale. I know. I’m the one who showed you that.” resulting in a cheeky wink from him.
♡ during training, he embarrassed you in front of the others. when you messed up a move, he made a big deal showing you how to execute it properly even though you’ve been in the army for years now and knew how to do it in your sleep. he liked to see the way you’d get flustered with all the other guys around as he teased you.
♡ he definitely exudes a dominant side and it definitely comes out around you. he wants to do everything for you. wants to carry shit that’s too heavy for you. he wants to be your ride. the first person you call when you need help. he wants to be your everything.
♡ he also acts a little more dominant in bed than he would if he was with someone his age. something about you looking up at him with your sweet little doe-eyes sparked a dominating need within him. he takes control. he leads. he tells you what to do. he barks out commands. he punishes you for being bratty. he takes control in every sense of the word. The only time you can really hold anything over him is when he’s getting close to finishing. you’ll be able to get him to say whatever you want him to, his mind lost in a haze, wanting nothing more than to find the release you’re about to give him. “Please,” he begged. you smiled as you hovered above him. you sank back down on him and continued your motions, and he quickly climaxed. his hands squeezed your hips as he groaned. “fuckin’ perfect.”
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sonicenvy · 1 year
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library mission statements about equity and justice are empty and meaningless bullshit until the day they practice them with their staff.
thinking about how much of a hot fucking mess my library is at the moment. sooooo many people are getting out because there's nowhere to go from where you are, the pay sucks, the benefits are nil and the admin also sucks. a lot of people who are getting out are also getting out of libraries and education in general because these are problems that are endemic to education in general. the rise in anti-intellectualism and misogyny are fucking us over as a field and i hate that for all of us.
when will the reckoning come for our field?
when will it come for the hypocrisy of our higher ups and admins for presenting institutions of learning as places of justice and equality while they ask educators and library workers to give our time and labor for free, because our work is "a moral imperative" an all important "pillar of society" etc etc, treat us like shit, pay us poverty wages, fight employee efforts to collectively bargain and unionize, over saturate our field with 30 hr a week "part time" positions like mine, and give the majority of front line, public facing staff no health benefits to go with our poverty wages, and require graduate level degrees for positions with "competitive" $40K/ year salaries.
oh you're heroes of society and your work is important, we wish you a very die in a hole.
i want to stay. i really really do, because I love this work and because i am good at it and because i think it's valuable and important work to be doing but god what the fuck. i hate how two-faced so much educational and library admins are about the work we do.
our institution stands for equity, liberty, and justice!
where the fuck is the equity and justice for the people who work in this field huh? why do teachers, college professors and librarians have to work for peanuts and be all fucking grateful to admin who have no fucking clue what the daily reality of our lives are and who don't give a shit about us??? for patrons and students that don't see us people??? what's the goddamn point??
There were college professors at my expensive private college who had to work in local bars to make ends meet because the pay was so trash and a professor of mine who lived in her fucking office one summer because she was fucking homeless for two months. sometimes our patrons talk to me and i think that we must live on completely separate planets or maybe in completely different universes. some of my colleagues are scrounging around for quarters to maybe be able to do their fucking laundry this week, while the patrons send their kids to $60k/year private grade schools and the upper admin talk about heading to their weekend vacation homes.
the admin at my library made a big splash at our last staff day about how they cared about employee mental well-being and that to that end they were going to give all employees an annual $100 well being fund. my mental well-being will be shit until i can afford fucking medical care that y'all don't care to help your 30 hour people get. fuck you and your $100.
there are states and municipalities that ban school teachers from unionizing. admins keep us in fear and near poverty because they know it divides us and it keeps us from organizing because we're all just barely scraping by and need our jobs. they use our passion up and spit us back out. it's no wonder that so many teachers and library workers are leaving.
the fact that our society doesn't do the real, hard work and show the real cash to support and nurture education workers is something that is a rot on our society and the lowering literacy in this country is a shining example of the consequences of this wilful anti-intellectualism and devaluing of our work and our personhood.
54% of american adults read at or below a sixth grade reading level, and we're seeing all the hot steaming garbage effects of this across this country in dreadful and tragic ways. say all the pretty, correct jargon-filled words that you want, but until you put your money and your care where that mouth is we smell the bullshit and see the lies. the rot is inside the house –– in the admin offices, in the legislatures and in the municipal governments that withhold funding from us and attack us on all sides with book bans, punitive rules and regulations for teachers' classrooms, the capitulation to ridiculous demands of parents and others who are not education professionals, and markets full of insulting pay. the rot is in the gop who hate us and the christians who want to make public education uniformed christian cult education. fuck all of you.
we smell the bullshit.
come read about the shitty realities of our work on the various education professional subreddits and look at insulting compensations on library and teaching job boards. if you care at all about libraries and schools I am literally begging you to fucking listen to us and amplify our voices about the state of this field. Go to your local officials, your school board meetings and your library board meetings and tell them that education professionals deserve living wages, decent health benefits, the guaranteed and protected right to unionization and safe, non-hostile working conditions.
we deserve to be treated with respect and decency in our workplaces and by our employers. we have a right to personal safety in our workplaces. we deserve to be treated as the educated, capable professionals that we are. we deserve to be paid living wages and paid for ALL of our time and labor. we deserve to be able to do OUR JOBS without having to do 50 other jobs we didn't ask for and weren't trained for. We deserve to work for employers who will practice what they preach when it comes to equity, inclusion, and justice. We have the same right to basic personhood and respect that everyone else does.
until y'all can support and agree that we deserve our rights and our pay, your support libraries and schools words are empty pretty words. support your striking school teachers, your library workers attempting to build unions, your striking museum workers and your underpaid college professors.
those unionizing ARTIC faculty and staff said it best:
“United we bargain,” they chanted. “Divided we beg.”
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there is no national or international library workers union as far as I can tell. i wish that i wasn't so afraid to loose my job. i wish i could speak out and advocate for myself and my colleagues in my real life without fearing for my employment prospects. i wish we weren't all living in so much fear of unemployment because of the low pay we have now that we could speak up. i hate this situation we're all in so much.
also, like fuck the GOP so hard. with a cactus.
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rant over for now. thanks for coming to my absolutely fucking furious ted talk about the state of library science and education.
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dev1lm4n · 11 months
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moth to flame
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ko-fi | series masterlist
pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader
summary: you're pining over wicked fantasies or who you recently discovered to be mr. miller, even when it's indubitably wrong.
word count: 3.9k
warnings: explicit (18+), pre-apocalypse, accidental voyeurism, masturbation, age gap (joel's in his mid 30's and reader is in her early 20's), reader is an exchange student but nationality is not mentioned
notes: set in 2013. do reblog or comment if u enjoyed it!
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Turbulent wind pushed on the pickup truck to no avail. That, paired with the soothing rhythmic grunt of the ignition created a perfect moody atmosphere. It was the peak of summer; yet somehow, for whatever reason, Austin was looking awfully somber. Gray and bland like the taste of soaked cereals. Sarah was bound to return to school despite the hefty weekends she’s spent with the newest addition to the Millers, and she didn’t like it at all. She’s making it real obvious too for everyone. Cheeks puffed up like she is five and always a loud thump following her every move.
She landed her dad’s coffee on the table with a loud thump. She stormed back into her room with a louder thump. She swung the pickup truck’s door with the loudest thump you’ve ever heard, before making her way over to the school’s gate. Her small pout remained on her face despite your cheerful wave and words of encouragement from behind the rolled window.
She’s a cute kid, you decided. 
You’re sure things would link perfectly between you and your host family if it weren’t for the fact that you practically avoided Mr. Miller like he’s the goddamn plague. Everytime you slipped out of your room, you had to make sure he wasn’t in a five meter proximity. You’d rather be dehydrated and starved than to meet him after his day-time job (which you’ve recently learned was a contracting gig), lingering around the kitchen with a stale sandwich up his mouth. Similarly, you treated Sarah as a trusty messenger for every message you had for her dad. Whether it’s a leaky sink or a hefty request to drop you off at your college.
It’s a genuine miracle Sarah never questioned you on your abnormal behavior, nor did Mr. Miller. Was this your streak of luck?
You tucked your phone back in your pocket after a quick run through your texts, eyes focused back towards what laid ahead of you. Mr. Miller’s broad shoulders stretched across the length of the car’s cushioned seat, moving with a steady pulse at every breath of air he claimed. Your careful eyes watched over the seams of his shirt; the correct side up after Sarah’s clever remark earlier that morning. Slowly, you traced along the nape of his neck with your bare eyes. Further and further, right until you could finally spot the dark brown strands tangled in with hints of gray. It looked soft.. much like how it appeared to be on his videos. You wondered how it’d feel like to run your hands over it, feel it through the ridges of your knuckles, and pull on‒
“Hey, you listenin’ to me?”
The man’s baritone voice penetrated the thick silence and you were left aghast. Soul sucked out of your body as your eyes flickered towards the rearview mirror, eventually catching the small smile playing on his dangerously charming face. He’d be the end of you that’s for sure. This was a bad idea, asking him to drive you to college just because taxi rates are crazy high this time of the year, leaving the two of you alone. Alone and hidden under the privacy of his truck, you were fucked through and through. You just hoped he wasn’t clever enough to somehow figure out your utterly shameful thoughts.
“Sorry.. um.. I was thinking of something. What were you saying, Mr. Miller?”
Yeah, that’s right. You were thinking of how nice his hair would feel when you’re gripping on it for dear life, but he didn’t have to know that.
“No worries, kiddo. Just.. I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”
At the last syllable he uttered, you were already rigid. Parched, feeling like your tongue magically turned into sandpaper; you’d always consider yourself to be an excellent debater at all parts of life, but his lone question left you high and dry. Your eyes darted back onto the rearview mirror and instead of his candid expression, you were met with his scintillating gaze. Curious and prodding into the deepest part of your head. It enthralled you, encouraged you to say the truth.
“You’re always scurrying off when I’m around,” he gave a thought to what he’s about to say. “I get that Sarah is friendlier and a lot more relatable to talk to. Talkin’ to an old man isn’t exactly preferable, is it?”
He let out a polite set of laughter, which was met by a deafening silence. You crumpled under the tension. Awkward and wanting nothing more than to escape the car like some fugitive in handcuffs. Killing Me Softly With His Song by Fugees continued to play faintly in the background, once again becoming a fitting ringtone for your impending response.
“No,” you denied slowly. Effectively lying, but it was as obvious as a kid trying to pocket candies from the cash register. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
His expression eventually twisted into one of mirth; brows quirked with interest, a tight smile edged to unfold. He’s probably finding the telenovela-inspired reply hilarious, but the man’s polite enough to store all his witty comments in the back of his head.
“What I mean is,” you paused to inhale deeply. What were you even supposed to say? You used to watch all his explicit videos and therefore you couldn't look him in the eye without getting reminded of every single scene? Lying has never been your forte, but the other option was far too humiliating. Even for you. “I’m naturally awkward, Mr. Miller. I.. I feel embarrassed when approaching you. Feels like I’m bothering you or something.”
That was half a lie. A white lie, you’d conclude.
“Oh sweetheart, you never bother me.”
The way he said that nickname had you sweating buckets. Seconds away from throwing up your entire breakfast menu out of sheer nervousness. You knew he meant it in a platonic familial-bond type of way, but God did it remind you of what he calls all his pretty co-stars.
“You and Sarah are my number one priority now. You know that, right?”
“Right. Thanks, Mr. Miller.”
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“I’m home.”
Exhaustion trailed after your every step as you made your way through the empty hallway. A result of caffeine-induced studying paired with the buzzing busyness of commuting in peak-hour. This was all easily avoidable. You should’ve accepted Mr. Miller’s offer in picking you up after his gig up West, but the fear of making a slip up is overriding your desire for convenience. You wouldn't want to make things even more weird than it already is. Your most prized possession, the laptop you’ve owned since the beginning of time, weighed your shoulder down exceptionally as you trudged through. A loud grunt passed your lips as you stumbled across; appearing exactly like the hunchback of Notre Dame.
“Oh! You’re here!”
You took a step back to meet the feminine voice, bubbly and hearty from the girl sitting in a criss-cross manner in front of the TV. Sarah was smiling. A big toothy smile that was too hard to resist, despite the fatigue weighing your shoulders down. You’re just soft when it comes to the little girl.
“Dad’s giving me a massage. Do you want one too?”
You must’ve been dog-tired, because you foolishly didn’t notice the large figure looming over her from the sunken couch. It was admittedly dim in the living room, but he was as obvious as an elephant, big and rigged with muscles out of a need for his profession. Both his contracting gig and his other.. scandalous endeavors. Breathing was all that you needed to focus on for now, and perhaps schooling your expression. You’re almost entirely sure you wouldn’t be able to speak no matter how hard you try.
A small unsure quirk of your head was what you settled with and Sarah, being the nicest girl you’ve ever known, quickly ushered you to sit by her side. On the wooden floor. For a damned massage from Mr. Miller.
You complied, of course. Even when you look mildly petrified by the idea.
“What’re you up to all evening?” 
His voice grazed your eardrums, alike to a powerful gust of wind, as you seated yourself on the foot of the couch. Sarah by your side, looking fondly in your direction, giving you all the more pressure to appear put together when you could simply falter at the bare sound of his voice. You needed to get your shit together. Mr. Miller’s an actual man, for fucks sake, it’s horribly immoral to think of him as the Wicked Fantasies in these kinds of setting.
“Studying.”
“Is that why you’re so pent-up?”
No. You’re pent-up because you’ve spent the entire week trying to be on your best behavior, trying to act like you’re not openly thirsting over this sweet girl’s father, trying to act like you’re not tipping into insanity from merely being placed in the same room as he is, but he didn’t have to know that.
“Think so,” you hummed softly.
“Poor thing.”
Anticipation almost killed you right there and then. You knew he was going to place his calloused fingers over your shoulders, knew that it was the basic requirement to give someone a shoulder massage, but you couldn’t help but develop butterflies in your belly at the thought. It wasn’t beautiful nor poetic, instead, it was an absolute nuisance to conceal your thoughts. When he began to place his hands on your upper back, you flinched.
A hitch in your breathing, then a throaty groan.
You were sensitive, touch-starved, and his touch practically confirmed that.
Mr. Miller’s touch was expertly firm yet gentle, the way you imagined it for a long time. His calloused fingers glided along your trapeze muscles with finesse. Fluid and seamless, as if he’s a master to the human body. Your eyes fluttered shut as he focused on the tension points. The nook between your bones which was constantly weighed down by your bag didn’t go unnoticed. His skilled fingers kneaded away every knot and tightness, making you surrender to his ministrations.
You didn’t want him to stop.
You wanted him to touch you more.
To have each one of his rough fingers stroke every soft bend of your body, like how he treated May and Sadie as if they were his own personal ragdoll.
To feel him under the constraints of your thin t-shirt, without a veil separating the two of you.
You craved him so bad, even when it’s wrong.
“You feel better?”
When he spoke, his raspy voice was magnetic to the core of who you were, as if he's able to resonate with all of you when others can barely achieve a fraction of it. It sounded sincere, like he truly cared about your well-being and not to simply feed into your secret desires. He meant well and you’re here acting like a starved pervert. The thought made you cringe ever so slightly.
“Yeah. Much better.”
“Good then, kiddo.”
The nickname turned you sour. You're more than willing to debate him on it, unlike last time.
“I’m not a kid.”
“No?”
He was so smug about it too. Even when you're looking all pissy.
“No. I’m a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller. Do note that I’m in my twenties,” you schooled him persistently.
“Twenties? Wow, you’re truly ancient.”
“Yeah and you’re a dinosaur, Mr. Miller.”
The silly quarrel you’ve gotten into with the older man made Sarah burst into laughter, breaking your tenacity and effectively making you laugh along with her.
It was the first time in forever that the Millers laughed that hard together.
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As the evening sun painted the kitchen in sepia hues, you stood before the cutting board; a bunch of onions staring right back at you, waiting to be transformed. You have always been passionate about cooking as you viewed it a stress-relieving activity, similar to those medley of coloring books marketed for adults. With a polished kitchen knife in hand and earphones stuffed in, you began your culinary adventure. Your hands moved swiftly, guided by blind confidence. The rhythmic sound of knife to wood began to echo all around the room.
“What are you cookin’ up?”
You could hear him as clear as day, timbre vibrating through your ear canals. Only then did you notice that he had indeed pulled one of your neatly stuffed earphones away, leaving you exposed to the world. To him who you’ve been avoiding despite your little chat in the truck. You looked dumbstruck. Lost in your own thoughts, your eyes wandered up the pools of honey in his eyes. The subtle movements, his thoughtful expression, all seemed to weave a tapestry of intrigue in your mind.
“I’m just chopping up onions here. Nothing exciting, really.”
It took all of you to tear yourself away from his gaze. Even so, the sensation lasted, leaving an anchor of trepidation in your chest.
“You’re back early,” you remarked matter-of-factly.
“Construction guys finished cementing early. Why? You miss me?”
You chuckled fondly. Only to shake your head as you mouthed a brief ‘no’. It’s hard not to entertain the cheeky older man despite your best effort. He was better than you could ever imagine from the confines of your laptop. He had a personality, one that easily made anyone hooked, and a kind heart, therefore it’s terribly hard to keep your burning feelings at bay. It’s wrong. Terribly wrong to view him as such when you’re almost entirely sure he viewed you as his kin, as someone to protect and show guidance to. You were drawn to him like a moth to flame, but he didn’t need to know that.
A sudden lapse in concentration caused your knife to slip, nicking your finger in the process.
A sharp sting shot through your hand.
Then a bead of crimson appeared, mingled with the pungent scent of onions.
“Shit..”
Momentarily stunned, you sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes widened with surprise. It didn’t hurt that bad yet, but it’s still a sight that made you frantic and out of your element. You instinctively brought your injured finger close to your tightly pressed lips, intending to investigate the severity of the wound. Droplets of blood seeped its way through the slim cut as you pressed on the soft pads of your pointer finger. You need to get the wound clean and so tap water was your first option.
However, fate had other plans in store.
“Oh no.. does it hurt, sweetheart?”
You grimaced at the nickname. This wasn’t a good time to get all desperate, but his voice did nothing but burn you with need. Without hesitation, Mr. Miller took hold of your nicked finger, his touch tender and reassuring. He guided your finger closer to his lips and in the many years you've lived, this was the most sensual scene you’ve ever witnessed. Your eyebrows quivered, a mixture of confusion and anticipation swirled within you. 
He was your drug.
One touch and the intoxication was fatal. Whatever he wants to do is what you’ll do and there isn't a thing you can do to stop him - not that you’d want to.
With gentle care, he leaned in. He had to crouch ever so slightly to get to your level and never once did his velvety brown eyes leave yours. You’re starting to think that he was doing it on purpose. That this entire scene you’re trying to make sense of was just a part of his orchestrated show, that he indeed felt the same way you do and was just as afraid of confronting it. Though you’re never really sure; the sheer attention he gave you made your brain turn into mush.
His warm breath ghosted over the wound, and before you knew it, he pressed a soft, delicate kiss on where crimson was pooling. Your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to choke. The sting that had plagued you a moment ago now seemed to dissipate into thin air, replaced by a warmth that spread from your hand to every inch of your aching body. His mouth was a furnace. Plush at all sides as his slick tongue stuck flat against the nick.
The concentration in his face, the emphasized crows feet, the stray strands of brown dappled on his sweaty forehead. 
“It’s a little old-fashioned, I know,” he whispered, his eyes locked with yours, “but sometimes a little love can make the pain go away.”
“Love?” you mumbled foolishly, still in a trance.
“You’re a part of the Millers, remember?”
What he said stung you more than the nick. It pushed you off the ledge of delusions. Your gaze slowly grew somber despite your best efforts to stay nonchalant.
“Of course, Mr. Miller.”
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The steady patter of rain upon his window stirred Joel awake, droplets yet to scatter the nascent rays of the settling moon. A strange occurrence for late summer. Though, the gentle sound brought a certain calmness to his mind; a soothing melody, one that stripped him of fear and incompetence. He looked around, blurry vision still intact while he scrambled to find the time. His alarm clock flashed back the time in big bold numbers. Barely past midnight, he noted internally. Joel wasn’t so sure on why his throat felt incredibly parched, dry to the bone, in need of refreshment even when it’s only been a few hours since he tucked himself in. Was it the one beer he had at dinner?
With an irritated sigh, he groggily stumbled out of bed. His knees creaked at its rusty hinge everytime he took a step down the dimly lit staircase of his home. He felt like a nutcracker. An old worn-out one at that. He wondered if he’s gotten too old for this, too old for construction and his side job - has he developed arthritis? His worries came to a halt when a soft glow caught his attention, emanating from a partially open door. 
If he remembered correctly, it was the small room by the garage he’s gifted to you. 
Curiosity piqued, he hesitated for a moment.
Would he be an absolute prick if he took a short peak? Probably. But you interest him. You’ve always been interesting to him, in ways that confuses him more often than he’d like.
He neared the door. One step at a time, praying to whatever God up there that’d be kind enough not to let the wooden boards ahead of him creak at his heavy steps. In that solitary moment, he felt a mixture of emotions welling up within him. It was as if he knew that he was about to stumble upon a secret, a private moment that’d be permanently embedded in his mind. He contemplated once again when he’s just a step away from getting a clear view. Respect for you tugged at his conscience, yet an overwhelming ugly curiosity pushed him to stay, to try to understand the significance of your nocturnal act.
His brown eyes peered through the small gap left.
He could see you now, but you couldn’t see him.
In the dappled moonlight, he carefully mapped out each and every one of your soft curves. How you were bathed in gentle light, sat comfortably on top of your stacked comforter as you typed away at your laptop with lightning-like speed. How you slowly leaned forward to get a closer look at the blaring screen, hair left relaxed and rear-end clearly emphasized by your inept sleeping shorts. How you eagerly repositioned yourself, straddling two rolled pillows as if you were to ride a horse. Joel didn’t mean to look. He didn’t mean to stare in such a perverted, disgusting manner. You were just too captivating and he was one weak-willed man.
With bated breath, he continued to observe.
Joel found himself captivated, his thirst momentarily forgotten, as he marveled at the scene unfolding in front of him.
This was wrong, he reminded himself. This was you he was looking at, not anyone else. You who he always viewed as a wide-eyed young girl still trying her best to navigate around her life. You who’s naive enough to believe his lies that the pink condom packets in his pick-up truck were single-packet wet tissues. You who’s sweet enough to cook his entire family a good dinner for once; turkey, mash, and green beans. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t crave you, because you’re you and he’s him.
His dilemma fell short when you clumsily tugged both your thin shorts and cotton panties off your legs, shin planted deeply into the pristine comforter. Your cunt gleamed under the thick moonlight, arousal formed in globs of clear stickiness right around where your tiny hole appeared. The visage caused him to stiffen in his sweatpants, twitching uncontrollably as he watched you rub yourself along the soft material.
Joel had a first-class view on how you cautiously ground down against it and he was.. shamefully thrilled. A moan bubbled up, before you did it again, and again, and again, each time the pillow appeared more and more damp.
“Fuck,” you hissed to yourself and it drove Joel insane. He pushed his pants down embarrassingly as if he’s some teenage boy catching a coincidental sight of a strip tease, before he cupped himself through his briefs. You’re putting on such a good show, even when it’s not for him, or for anyone on that matter. He watched with anticipation as you leaned back on both hands, edging yourself, before you rutted against it desperately.
Your hole throbbed, contracting and loosening everytime the soft material made contact with your sensitive nub. It’s all that you focus on now. Which was working wonders, considering your quiet gasps and labored breaths were starting to turn into much vulgar noises. Loud moans and whimpers that made Joel’s cock grew with interest, dribbling with pre-cum and desire.
“Please, please, please,” you begged breathlessly.
Both of your hands disappeared for a split second. He wondered silently where it went, but the honest shadows on your wall told him more to the story. You were cupping both your breasts, massaging it kindly before going over to pinch and roll your nipples to harden. You seemed to be sensitive there. Would you enjoy his thick fingers around them?
“More.. oh please,” you begged helplessly.
He wished to come and help you, to stick a finger into that tight hole of yours, to circle your clit with his thumb, flicking indulgently until you gave up. But it’s all a part of his far-fetched fantasy. Watching is more than enough for now. Joel couldn’t even see your face, but this entire thing got him off better than all the pornos he’s personally made.
“I’m gonna- oh, oh, God.”
Your cries echoed around the room, He could see how you quivered, thighs clamping shut around the drenched pillow as you reached your final ecstasy. Everytime you rolled back, he salivated over the sight of your sopping cunt. Untouched and sensitive even from just humping. Your thrusts never falter, not even when you’re making a mess on top of the once pristine, white pillow. What a dirty girl.
Joel watched you until the very end. Right until you collapsed forward, flat on your stomach after exerting such work on your body.
Cock sore and in need of relieving.
Though, something else caught his interest. A revelation that he found to be more important to comprehend than the state of his throbbing cock. 
The video you're watching to get yourself off.
They were his.
3K notes · View notes
faetreides · 2 months
Text
MARLBORO REDS - ANAKIN SKYWALKER
cause good men die too, so i’d rather be with you
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summary: mechanic dilf!anakin x gender neutral kindergarten teacher!reader
wc: 8.4k
cw: “soft” dark content, made padme’s death vague on purpose, anakin has the vibes of a married father of 4 hitting on you while you’re waiting on their table at olive garden, daddy kink, anakin imagines killing someone, MALE MASTURBATION (the most graphic fantasies are skull fucking and anakin kinda hoping you’ll tear when he puts it in), bra mention (reader does have a fem style but i’m nb so that’s how i see it and men can also have a fem style), it’s not mentioned but anakin is going through cigarette withdrawals, anakin’s canon typical inability to be in a healthy relationship, possibly predictable plot twist (?), i wanted to be a lot grosser, anakin is 42 and he’s depicted as such, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s), this takes place in the U.S.
requests are open (read the rules first)
block & move on if uncomfortable
do not repost or translate!!
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The exhaust fumes transported him for a moment, somewhere tropical with a cigar in one hand and a tit in the other as a wet body slid adjacent to his. His hard-earned vacation went up in flames as a shrill car horn hunted down his eardrums. Anakin snapped out of it and stared through his brittle bangs with dead eyes. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, how to act like a normal human being one of them. 
"Alright, that should be everything. Since we just needed to rotate your tires and do an oil change, we're looking at about 142 dollars."
"Thank you so much, I'll just go pay at the front desk. Have a good one!"
Anakin sighed and gave a half assed wave that she didn't even see. He has nowhere near as much spunk as he did back in the day, but his energy is always shot to hell long before he sees his last customer of the day. Luckily it was just a routine maintenance type of thing, he would've just bashed his head in with a wrench if it was anything more. 
Puddles of blood trot after said customer, he’s amazed that they can drive so well considering they have a bullet in their head. 
There’s no bullet or rivers of blood in actuality, but a man can dream. 
His knee joints creaked as he got out of his squatting position. He groaned from the effort while smearing his fingers in more grease trying to wipe them off on the pants of his overalls. The whole workshop smelled like garbage and he probably smelled even worse. His trusty grease rag was subsequently discarded on top of his portable tool tower. He noticed that a tub of lighter fluid was on its side so he prevented that big mess waiting to happen and screwed the cap shut, picked it up, and set it back on the shelves in the storage room. He had to remember to leave one of his employees a post-it notifying them that they were almost out. 
His sleeves were shucked up his soft muscular forearm to check his watch. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets like moles in a whack-a-mole machine when he saw the time. 
SHIT! 
It was 4:30, the time he's expected to be at Alderaan Apples Elementary to pick up his twins. He didn't have the time it would normally take him to drive 20 minutes back to his place for a 10 minute shower, and then drive 30 more minutes to be at his kids' school. He normally didn't work that late, since he owns the shop he can choose his own hours. But Anakin lost track of time obsessing over work and now he'd have to embarrass his kids by showing up covered in it. Their teacher would probably be there to chew him out, but in his defense this really didn't happen all that often. 
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That teacher being arguably the biggest reason why he hated that they’d see him looking how he did right then. They're awfully pretty, with a chest that he's pictured slapping and sucking while their thick ass recoils from bouncing on his uncut cock. They had just moved to their average sized town at the start of the year, they told him at the parent teacher conferences at the beginning of the school year. Something about yearning to get away from their lackluster small town but also being too afraid to venture out into any kind of big city on their own. 
They were making the cutest little gestures when they were shyly talking his ear off too, shifting their thighs together as they swayed and never letting their eye contact stray too far away from their freshly polished mary janes. Anakin was very careful about remembering everything he could about Luke and Leia's first real school year. Hell, he was more scared than they were. But there was just something in the way this new teacher did their best to soothe any worries the kids might have. 
"It's okay, we'll be going on this new adventure together. And I'll do my very best to be there for you every step of the way. I hope you can be brave and look after me too!"
Luke nodded timidly but with a newfound sense of determination. Leia shouted an affirmative, being more extroverted in comparison to her brother. 
Their teacher was young, somewhere in their early 20's. Most likely having flown into town right after getting their degree. It made something in his gut swirl and simmer, imagining their delicate finger tracing his crow's feet and tugging on the gray in his hair. Their head nestled gently in between his squishy pecs, some of his muscle definition was lost with age but he had a feeling you'd like how much the slight softness of his belly highlighted the muscle underneath. 
The cliche apples in the blouse their teacher was wearing seemed to have Anakin in a trance as he zoned out. He grunted in acknowledgement when he needed to and slipped every form and newsletter he was given into his satchel. When it was time to head home, Luke and Leia clung to their teacher's legs. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and bent over to pry them off. He explained how sorry he was, being a single dad meant that whether or not he meant to, the kids still looked for a mother figure. 
He'll never forget the way your eyes widened by a fraction, flicking up to make eye contact with his feigned nonchalant stare. You seemed.... happy to hear that he was single. But that could've just been an old man getting wrapped up in the delusions that he still has it. 
"I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how hard it is to do what you do everyday, but let me just say that I think you're doing an excellent job."
He thinks you'd do even better. 
By the time he had finished reliving that fond little memory, he could spot the street sign for the street the school was on. Ruffling his hair, he made a sharp right turn and slowly pulled into the parking lot. His black chevy truck performed beautifully like always so he gave her a solid pat on the hood. He turned on his heel, immediately seeing his children hugging either one of your legs. He was only 10 minutes late, it wasn't any better but he would never make his kids feel like he abandoned them. He never wanted them to go through what he had gone through when he was their age. 
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He adjusted his collar and made a last ditch effort to wipe his fingers off on his clothes. He heard a  quiet cough. He shot his head up to catch your unamused eyes. A wry smile appeared on his face as he jogged over to you. When he reached  the three of you, he immediately crouched and placed a hand on Luke and Leia's shoulders. 
"Dad's really sorry, okay? He just lost track of time but he rushed over here as fast as he could as soon as he realized what time it was."
Luke peeked out from behind your leg, "Like the Flash?"
"Yes, Luke, like the Flash." Anakin chuckled, slowly opening his arms wide in the hopes that his kids weren’t too mad at him. 
Thankfully he was instantly overwhelmed by two bodies slamming into him, almost knocking him onto the ground and tumbling down the concrete steps. Luke was clutching onto him so tightly and Leia was giggling up a storm. He stood up and gently ushered his kids into holding one of his hands so they could stand beside him. 
He cleared his throat a few times before finally addressing you. 
"I'm so sorry, I don't know if you overheard but work was really hectic today and I didn't want to waste more time cleaning up. Please just think of me how you did before, I won't look like this tomorrow."
You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. Your blouse had a floral pattern today, blue covered in peonies and apple blossoms. Your pants were some kind of plaid thing but you make them work so well. Anakin had  to actively keep his eyes from eye fucking your wide hips and oggling the expanse of your butt in the tight pants. Just thinking about how little must be left to the imagination made his cock ache in his overalls. But he restrained himself, he was going to ask you out when he was in a much better and.... cleaner state. He pushed the thoughts down and settled himself down with daydreams of the near future. 
"It's alright, Mr. Skywalker. I understand your situation, so long as it doesn't happen frequently and the children don't have to wait too long, we won't have a problem." You gently admonished the older man, not hiding the protective tone in your voice but still looking up at him with bashful warmth in your eyes. 
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Stars, the way you were already so protective over his kids made him even harder. He briefly wondered how you'd be with their younger siblings. The image made his heart flutter and a wide smile stretched his lips. He shuffled from one foot to the other, praying to whatever God is out there that he's able to hide his boner in his baggy overalls. He still had quite a few years before he even wanted to think about having the birds and bees talk with the kids. He adjusted his overalls quickly and reached out a greasy rough palm to you. 
"I swear this won't happen everyday, thank you for being so kind. I definitely won't forget it." He murmured with a wink that was open to interpretation. 
You bit your lip as you leaned forward to slip your smooth palm into his. A sharp shiver traveled up Anakin's body and butterflies erupted in your stomach at the contact. You clicked your heels together and shook his hand, the weight of it made certain kinds of thoughts pop into your head that you'd rather not deal with at the moment. 
Reluctantly Anakin pulled his hand away, making sure it lingered more than was necessary or appropriate. He put his back to you and double checked that Luke and Leia had one hand in each of his and their other hands on the strap of their backpacks. Luke had one with planets on it while Leia had one with dinosaurs. He looked down at their feet to make sure that they were going slow and steady on the steps. They reached the bottom of the steps and walked across the parking lot to Anakin's truck. He opened the back seat, lifting Leia first and waiting for her to settle in before nearly throwing out his back bending down again to help Luke in. He buckled them up and made sure their seatbelts were fastened properly. He took a few steps back and gingerly closed the backseat door on Luke's side. His back was screaming at him on the trip around the back of the truck, it especially burned when he haphazardly threw his door open and climbed up into the driver's seat. 
The drive home was the same as it was everyday. Leia excitedly told her father all about every single detail of her day and Luke needing less coaxing to talk about his as the school year progressed. Luke was upset when they ran out of apple juice at lunch because that meant he had to have grape. Leia bragged about the rock she painted during craft time. Anakin listened intently, no matter what kind of depraved shit he felt for their teacher, he wanted to take extra care that both of his kids felt heard and appreciated at the end of the day. He responded with jokes and questions to keep them talking, it distracted them from realizing how long the drive was to the house.
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They pulled into the house's garage half an hour later. Anakin was about ready to collapse into a pile of bones in his recliner. Luke and Leia ran like bats out of hell through the door and up the stairs to their bedrooms. He could hear the sounds of them putting their backpacks on their hooks and unzipping them to go through the jungle of papers they stash in them. 
The fridge was fresh out of Dr. Pepper so Anakin grumbled and got a can of bud lite from his locked minifridge on the counter. He managed to make it to the couch before he let himself fall face first onto the cushions. 
The pitter patter of tiny feet bounding down the stairs yanked him from sleep so he sat up and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch.
"Dad! Dad! Dad! Look!" Luke blurted out, shoving some kind of paper in his dad's smushed face. 
Anakin grimaced but made himself sit upright. He reached out and took the paper from Luke, holding it at a good distance away from his face and at a downwards angle so he could read it properly. 
"What's this, buddy?"
"It's a paper for the party, Dad! The Valentine's day one that's um.... this Friday, i think.” Luke nervously wrung his hands in his striped shirt as he spoke. “I want to get something for my teacher too…” 
Anakin rubbed his shaved chin as he read the paper. Luke was right. It was a newsletter informing parents about the Valentine's Day party each class would be holding on Friday. There would be no working or classes and instead every class would have an all day party for both the children and their parents. Students were allowed to bring any snacks of choice, but they had to bring a box of valentine cards for their class and give one to every student in their class.
"That must be nice, having no school for a day. Well, i'll be there on Friday and tomorrow we can go to the store and get the supplies for you and your sister." 
“And we can get something for my teacher?”
“Of course Luke, that’d be a very nice thing to do for them.”
"Okay! Thanks, dad, love you!" Luke cheered, bouncing on his feet and kissing Anakin on the cheek while giving him a second long side hug before running back upstairs. 
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The next day the Skywalker family was back in the truck on the way to the biggest local supermarket in the area. It wasn't too far, just in the next town over. They could've gone to the smaller store back home, but the kids liked having options and liked car rides that were like little road trips. (Why they hated the longer drives when they were to school but liked them in situations like this, Anakin could sympathize. 
Anakin shut the radio off when they pulled into the large parking lot of the supermarket. He put his car in park and turned the engine off. The wind chill smacked him right in the face as soon as he stepped out of his seat. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself up and walked over to get Leia and Luke out of the car as quickly as possible without freezing his ass off. They did the standard routine of holding their dad's hands while they crossed the parking lot. Anakin was telling them to look both ways to watch out for any cars that were coming as they walked along the crosswalks. Mercifully they weren't in the cold long before they entered the store.
The bright white LED overhead lights made Anakin want to pass out but he followed closely behind the kids that were already running themselves ragged all over the place. He reminded them what they were here for and his arms were pulled to their breaking point all the way to the card aisle. There were so many options of valentine card packs. There were Bluey ones, Spiderman, ones that looked like the cootie catchers you fold and pull apart, et cetera. 
Luke ended up choosing Spiderman ones that came with pencils. Leia chose a kitten design for her cards. 
Anakin almost fell asleep on the ride home. He let the kids pick out drinks from the little displays in front of the registers so they were miles away in sugar rush land. He made a note to pop a couple ibuprofens before he went to bed. Some days are easier than others but since his wife passed away when his kids were newborns, he’s never known what it was like to be able to depend on someone else to always be there to help. His childhood friend Obi-wan stops by every so often to stay over, his mom and step-dad babysit when he stops being stubborn, but that’s once in a blue moon. The sunset casts light onto the sunspots and hair on his arms. He rolled both of his sleeves up because his body typically runs hot and global warming making the temperature 65 degrees in the middle of February does him no favors. 
The McDonald’s they drove through got the kids happy meals wrong three times, something that was clearly a sign of the apocalypse. 
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He had to remind Luke and Leia not to run too fast as they clammored out of the truck with his assistance and bolted to the front door. Anakin sighed his millionth sigh of the day and clamped a hand on Leia’s head to steady her as he searched his rusty old keyring for their house key. His steady hand inserted the key into the lock, ushering his kids inside with his free hand while he pushed the door open. His long legs moved at a sloth like pace, Leia and Luke ignored him and shot up the stairs like two little rockets.
“Guys, slow down. Marshmallow feet, remember?” He reminded them and leaned around the corner so they could hear him, shaking his head in exasperation when all he gets in response is a couple “Okay, dad!”s. 
The white and orange ibuprofen bottle stored in one of the many dark wood cabinets over the fridge beckoned him with a come hither motion. He’s little more than a slave to his baser instincts so he dutifully heeded the call. The cabinet creaked when he cracked it open but he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he dove for the pill bottle and shook out a few orange pills. He exhaled in relief in a way that would suggest he was smoking weed when his adams apple bobbed as the pills hit his stomach. 
With that mindless task out of the way, Anakin slowly journeyed up the stairs to get Leia and Luke ready for bed. He kept a stern eye on them to ensure they brushed their teeth, used their mouthwash properly, and washed their faces. After the kids completed their bedtime routines, he tucked them into bed while humming a lullaby Obi-Wan had taught them when he held them as infants. He gave them their time to say goodnight to their mom, Luke looked at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling when he said it and Leia clutched her stegosaurus plushie when she whispered her goodnight. 
Anakin didn’t contribute but he warmly kissed his twins on their foreheads and tucked the corners of their comforters around their shoulders. 
His heavy work boots thundered against the hardwood floor of the hallway as he walked out of their room and down the carpeted stairs to the den. He unhooked the buttons holding up his overalls on his shoulders and shimmied his ruined overalls down to his ankles. His hairy thighs expanded as he stepped out of them so he could kick them to the other side of the room. He was left in only his boxers and a white tank top that would never be white again. So he flexed his arms as he took that tank top off too. Grease stains were all over his body but he could at least take a shower now. 
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His boxers joined the towels from yesterday’s shower on the floor as his soft cock flopped out. He gave it an absentminded stroke that injected something molten into his bone marrow. He bent over to reach the faucet and turned the water on. The shower didn't start until the water babbling over his thick calloused fingers was hot enough to cook a lobster in. 
He rolled his shoulders back as he stepped into the shower. His mouth dropped open in a silent exclamation and his neck popped as his head lolled back. The onslaught of boiling hot water pin pricked his skin in a pleasure-pain sort of way that made his thoughts temporarily quiet down. 
His cock gave a couple twitches but Anakin elected to wait until he had at least washed his hair before he rubbed a much needed orgasm out. 
3-in-1 shampoo that smelled like some dior cologne was all up in his hair, his hands unhurriedly glided through his short-ish soapy strands. He angled his head back and let the lather he had worked up be drowned out by the shower head. He grabbed his vanilla & shea butter body wash and let the spout rest against his glistening pecs as his fingers curled around the stocky bottle and squeezed. The smooth liquid spurted out over his pecs and dripped down his body. He reached his hands right up under the steady stream and soaped up his pecs, ghosting his thumbs over his puffy nipples before spreading his hands out and spreading the soapsuds all over the rest of his body. 
Squelching sounds echoed off the shower floor as Anakin widened his stance. His right hand was subconsciously traveling closer and closer to his half-hard cock. He had worked so hard, finally being able to relax and luxuriate in the silence made the blood in his body migrate further south. 
A certain teacher flashed through his mind, his head whipped down in shock to discern how greatly his flushed cock swelled up faster just at the single image of his kids’ kindergarten teacher. 
An aurora borealis of fantasies swirled in the air. 
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You’re kneeling on a pillow (he would be at serious risk of getting more brow wrinkles if you had to touch the harsh dirty floor with your bare skin.) and bobbing your head up and down the fat cock making a bulge in your cheek. Your sparkling eyes have this glazed over look to them as he anchors his hands on the back of your head. He widens his stance and bullies your throat with his heavy cock. You squeak and sputter but you take it like such a good pet. Your plump lips slide off of his meat a couple inches but before he can do anything, you’re groping his taut ass as you wiggle your head down to the base of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut as your brain shuts off; your nose is buried right in his musky bush. His face scrunches up in the best kind of pain, but he locks his gaze on the way your eyes roll back when he begins to skull fuck you.
Thank god for oral fixations. 
“Gonna let Daddy soak this warm throat pussy?” Don’t worry, he knows you can’t exactly use your vocal chords properly at the moment. So he nods your head for you, deepening his thrusts into slow sharp jabs. 
He’d baptize you in cum if you let him, your skin would look so pretty and glossy covered in it. He’d help you wipe it off after he cements the image of your eyelashes sticking together in his mind. 
Now he’s grabbing your love handles while his cock builds his dream home in your guts. Your ass shakes back against his hips as you try to steady the phone in your hands and face it towards the overhead. He grabs your hair in one fist and gently tugs your head up so you can pay attention properly. He didn’t go through all this just to let you hide away from him. In a perfect world, the kids would be staying with his mom so you’d be more than welcome to lose your voice.
The vision in his mind shifts to you being on your back, hands trembling trying to hold your legs as close to your chest as possible. You’re looking up at him like he was born in the center of the sun. He’s looking back at you like you’re the moon made flesh, eternally encapsulated in his sea of stars. Anakin smiles triumphantly but with a heady passion in his gait that threatens to burn his lungs to ash, coughing them up over your open heart. 
“You’re doing so well puppy, that’s my brave baby.” He coos and pries your hands off your thighs finger by finger. 
Once your hands are free, his larger ones ardently seek out yours like a dog going after a bone. The rough texture of his digits feels like an uncomfortably pleasant caress as they lace together with your own. He doesn’t look at anything else; can’t think of anything else when you make the cutest little watery gasp as his cock humps along the crack of your hole. The red tip of it gets caught against your outer sweet spot as if trying to give your crotch small pecks. His eye wrinkles crinkle when his smile widens and he offers a breathy laugh. 
He squeezes your hands tightly as he wraps a hand around his cock and directs it to its northern star. Your nails digging into his knuckles don’t distract from your hole stretching itself wide to suckle at his encroaching length. 
And if in the shower he spilled into his feverishly fucked fists at the concept of crimson liquid mixing with cum to make a pink swirl where your bodies meet, you’d never know. He thumbed at the glans under his cock tip as he came down from his high, skirting a fingernail up a vein on the side and wishing he was mouthing the space between your shoulder blades; preening your white feathers with his scratchy tongue. 
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The next couple days were gone with a couple of blinks. He never deviated from his routine; wake up, wipe off the drool on his face, get kids ready and take them to school, go to work, clean up, go pick kids up from school, help with whatever work 6 year olds would have, put them to bed, jerk off in the shower till his legs ache, fall asleep on his stomach with his the right side of his face smushed into a pillow. 
He did find some time to put together a teacher’s appreciation basket for you. You more than anyone else deserved a few something somethings on a day meant to represent love. The gifts were packed nicely and neatly in a vintage wicker basket wrapped in a red gingham bow and covered in see through red plastic wrap. Your reaction would regrettably have to be viewed from afar, but he’d know how to move forward depending on what adorable expression you had all over your face.
The night before the party, Anakin allowed Luke and Leia to stay up a smidge later than normal so that they could get all of their things ready for the party. Anakin’s special present slept soundly in the seat next to his in front of his truck. An additional gift from Luke was tucked inside along with an item from Leia who had insisted on it when she found out Luke was getting you something.. The basket being hidden away for the time being allowed him to focus completely on helping his children with their gifts at the coffee table. 
Luke’s eyes were droopy as he wrote down the names of his classmates in the hearts made to look like Spiderman’s mask in his cards. He inserted  most of the pencils in the intended slot on the left of the cards by himself before he slumped against Anakin’s arm and weakly pushed the pile of cards towards his dad. Anakin chuckled as he ruffled Luke’s fluffy blonde hair and teasingly whispered that he didn’t know a boy could be so sleepy. His son blinked at him as if to say how unfunny his dad was before yawning and snuggling further into his father. 
Anakin pushed the rest of the pencils into the card slots and sealed all of the cards with red heart stickers. He lifted his head to look across the glass coffee table to check in on how Leia was doing. For how fiery his daughter was already at such a young age, she wasn’t immune to getting tired before 8:30. The signature buns on her head that she loved begging him  to do for her had loose hairs poking out of them because of how Leia had buried her head in her arms. 
Anakin blew a breath out in fond chagrin as he easily reached over the table and delicately removed the pins holding the buns in place. He fluffed out the hair that fell down so her scalp wouldn’t feel weird when she woke up. 
He hoisted Luke up in one arm and Leia in the other (something they were getting a bit too big to continue doing) and slowly but surely deposited them on the couch. He snatched a white plush blanket from the linen closet and settled it over them before turning back to the massive amount of paper cards on the table. He finished the last of Leia’s cards a short while later. He sorted the cards into orderly piles and put them in sandwich bags that he took to the kids room so he could put the bags in their backpacks. 
Anakin came back to the living room as he tried to shoo the sleep away by digging his knuckles into his eye sockets in a lazy rub. He opened the cabinet and took out a package of pink frosted sugar cookies with red heart shaped sprinkles, a pack of capri suns, and a tupperware bowl full of mini brownies. With a long drawn out yawn he set the snacks out on the counter so that he would remember them tomorrow morning. He got a set of paper plates and a sectioned set of cutlery in case you needed any extra. Maybe you’d give him one of those corny gold star stickers as a thank you. 
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Friday morning was ushered in by  two children risking their dad’s life by flopping on his stomach with all the strength they had while he was sleeping. 
“OH FU-“ He shouted before he remembered who was in the room and gently rolled them off of his stomach. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”
 "It's time to wake up dad, we're gonna be late for school!" Leia said with a dismayed look on her somewhat chubby face. 
Anakin looked away and meekly mouthed a 'sorry' as he looked at the led clock that he had forgotten to set an alarm on. 
Fuck, not again. 
He sat up in bed and hunched over; his head buried in his hands. Luke and Leia crowded around him as they tried their best to comfort their father, giving his back light pats. He let them pull his hair so that he'd look up at them. He smiled in gratitude and crawled out of bed as quickly as he could to get the day started. 
He made a comical sight; hobbling around the floor with his ripped jeans pooled around his feet as he raced to get his kids ready for school in time. His belt was a fairly new black leather piece that he'd been keeping for a special occasion, but the anxiety of the morning made him grapple with getting the buckle in place. Once that was done a shameful amount of time later, he shoved his clothes to the side in his closet as he searched for a nicer, more "classy" dress shirt. Anakin gnawed at his bottom lip and eventually decided on a black silk button up that matched his belt. He crouched, chanting in his head that he hoped he wouldn't tear a muscle, and chose a pair of italian leather slides that his mom had gotten him for Father's Day a couple of years ago. The bathroom mirror held back no punches when it showed Anakin the state of his head. He crossed his fingers and smoothed back his hair with the tiniest glob of gel; the water he splashed on his face would have to do some serious charity work. He could only hope that you liked the naturally unkempt but not too unkempt kind of look, a striking sort of ruggedness. 
"Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." Luke droned, understandably fed up with waiting on his dad to deal with another one of his mini mid life crisis episodes. 
"I'll be right there Luke, hold on a second, please."
Anakin gave into his son’s begging and let him brush his teeth with the birthday cake flavored toothpaste today. Even though the dentist moaned about how hard it was to clean out when they introduced it to Luke at his last appointment. His Spiderman toothbrush played a jingle meant to sound like the theme song when Luke did his 2 minutes of brushing. Anakin stood protectively behind him as he spit in the sink, his hand hovered over his head so he wouldn't hit it. He took Luke's toothbrush and ran it under the water before he put it back in the clear organizer next to the faucet. He poured the recommended amount of mouthwash from the bottle and passed the lid that acted as the cup to Luke. Luke grimaced but he tipped the cup up so the blue liquid would pour in his mouth, he swished it around and then spat it out too. He sipped from the glass of water that was handed to him and proudly beamed at his father.
"Good job, Luke. I'm so proud of you." Anakin congratulated him, Luke was still finicky about floss so today would not be the day that he attempted to get him to use it. 
Being a parent means knowing how to pick your battles and what time to schedule them. 
Anakin brushed Luke's hair and fluffed it out a bit like a surfer (how Luke likes it). He grabbed his son by his underarms and lifted him off of the step stool. The mirrors in their house were still a bit too high for his kids to see properly so for now the stools had a purpose. He would be sad when they no longer needed them. 
Anakin quickly dipped into the twins room to grab their backpacks. He had already gotten them dressed after he got out of bed earlier. He helped Luke put his on and then repeated the same process with Leia. Her toothbrush made a loud roar when she finished brushing, and she had a fit of giggles in response. His daughter preferred straightforward mint toothpaste so morning routines really weren't that much of a struggle with her. Once she put the glass of water down on the sink, she eagerly turned her back to her dad and pointed at her loose hair. Anakin saluted as he began shaping her hair into the buns she loves so much. He reminded her not to mess with them too much or they'd fall apart, and she always responded that she knew that already. 
They got in a single file line on their mission out the door. Anakin nabbed the containers of snacks and briefly freaked out wondering if he lost the cards before he remembered that they were in the kids' backpacks. He double checked if his keys and wallet were in his pockets, and to his relief everything was where it was supposed to be.
Well, mostly everything. He'd never forget about you, don't worry. 
He put his phone on do not disturb before tossing in the front seat next to his along with the basket already sitting there. 
Anakin told Luke and Leia to buckle their seatbelts as he inserted his key into the keyhole and started the car. He heard them buckle up and waited for the tell tale clicks before putting his car into drive. They had to leave than some of the other kids in their school would have to since they lived farther away, but because it was so early the twins could only yawn and hold onto the other twins' booster seat. Anakin thanked the cosmos and turned the radio on but kept it a low volume; Frank Sinatra's rich voice was the best company on a drive like this. 
The school entrance was abundantly decorated. A large white banner along the front entry archway announced the festivities. A flurry of red, pink, and white ribbons hung across the ceiling of the lobby. Every door had hearts representing the students in their class covering them, the kids's names scrawled in their own messy handwriting with cheap crayons. 
The door of your classroom was the last one on the left. You kept a bottle of hand sanitizer in front of it because you were very particular about hygiene, a trait that served you extremely well in your job. Luke and Leia pointed out where on the door their hearts were as they waited for you to open the door. The Skywalker family were the first ones there so Anakin wasn't sure if it was okay to just drop in on you unannounced. He wished that you would drop on him unannounced. He cradled his gift basket  in his arms as if it were a fragile baby.  
A few minutes later, your heels were heard clacking against the tile floor. The silver door knob jiggled before it stopped moving and the door took its sweet sweet time opening. Your head poked out and your face brightened when you saw who was at the other end. You sunk down into a squat, putting your hands on your knees as you addressed the children. 
"Why, hello Leia; hello to you too Luke. You're a tad early, but you can go ahead and hang your backpacks on the hooks in your cubbies. I haven't finished setting everything up, so you can sit down on any of those chairs at the front of the class." You greeted them and shook their hands before pointing out where they could sit. 
The twins obviously sat together. You didn't have assigned seating in your class, and you felt that Leia and Luke would be more comfortable sitting together during their first year at school. It wasn't guaranteed that they'd be in the same class next year. You were too sensitive to try to separate them. You cried a lot because of how scary school was when you were in their place, so you couldn't imagine being the cause for any tears your students shed.
Anakin was once again too caught up in studying your outfit. You had on a fitted shirt with a cardigan on top, it had thin strings that could unwind with no effort from him if he reached out and just pulled.
But that could wait. 
The kids scattered off to choose their seats. Your classroom had three circular tables with five small red chairs. Each chair had a small blanket on the back with a valentine's pattern. The table at the front where Luke and Leia were sitting had heart shaped placemats with a lace trim that looked like it should've been a doily, but in a… good way. You had red and pink plates on the smaller table next to your desk, as well as clear forks and spoons that looked like they had confetti inside of them. You figured that the parents would bring all of the refreshments and you didn't know what your students would want; you thought that the safest bet would be to hang back. 
Anakin did the most he could to soften his gaze when you straightened up and automatically locked eyes with the older man. He clocked how you instantly glanced down at the floor for a split second. You adjusted your collar, for some reason, and gave him the world’s smallest smile. Anakin was so certain that if he leaned in close enough, he would be able to hear your heart racing at the same accelerated pace as his.
 Some say that means it’s love. 
You fluttered your eyelashes, “Hi, Mr. Skywalker, thank you for coming. It’s always a pleasure to see Luke and Leia, but i’m glad that you could be here for them”
“Believe me, no one’s more happy about me being here than I am.” He blurted out without thinking, ‘Uh, I brought some snacks and drinks for everybody.”
You took in the capri suns and the desserts as your smile grew. Your hand curled around his bicep subconsciously, “Oh my gosh, that’s so nice of you! I’ll just put those over the-“ 
You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Anakin sauntered past you to put the food down on the table next to your desk. He placed the frosted sugar cookies down first, followed by the capri suns and brownies. 
He turned to face you and his shirt seemed to tighten over his chest as he rested his hands on his hips. His fingers flexed absentmindedly, like they wished they were gripping something else. 
“I can handle it, sweetheart. I’m 42, not 72.”  He chided you, strolling back over and chucking you under the chin; you were cute if you thought you’d be lifting a single finger the entire day. 
The way you nearly fell head over heels trying to fix your assumed faux paus was even cuter, “No, no- I- I didn’t mean anything- I just- Y-you look very capable to me, sir.” 
If your brain would let you, you would rip your face off to hide from your big mouth. Why the hell would you tell the much older father of two of your students that you think he looks “very capable”? WHAT POSSESSED YOU TO CALL HIM “SIR”? 
Anakin scratched his chin and decided that he’d let you off the hook with no more teasing from him. That’s a lie though, he was confident that you could take whatever he gave you. 
“Careful, don’t stroke my ego too much or I'll have to stroke yours. And please, I'd hate to have to remind you again, my name’s Anakin.” He was flirting a little too shamelessly for where you were, but he was still thinking with his upstairs head and guided you to a back corner. 
“I actually got you something myself, but uh,  if it’s all the same to you, I'd wait to open it until you’re nice and snug at home.” 
He gladly took a short walk to your car with you and helped you set the basket down safely in the trunk. He told you to stand back as he slammed the trunk door shut; slapping it for good measure to make sure it was properly closed. 
The two of you returned to your classroom and like the good little helper Anakin wanted you to know he could be, he helped you greet the incoming parents and students. He even took any concessions they brought and put them with the others
By 8:15 everyone you expected was in your classroom. A few kids were without their parents so you asked some of the other students to invite them to enjoy the party; a party’s no fun alone. 
At some point around 9:00 you had the stray daydream of Anakin pinning you against the wall outside of your door as he savagely plundered your mouth with his teeth and tongue. Finger shaped bruises and a promise to ‘see you at home, baby’ would keep your usually freezing cold body warm. You glance at the man out of the corner of your eye to see that he was already staring. He looked like he wanted to teach you a lot of things.
Whatever that meant. 
The morning half of the day consisted of the cafeteria delivering breakfast and watching a couple of movies that the class voted on. The Lego Batman Movie was first (a unanimous decision), and Wreck-it-Ralph was picked after that (some kids wanted to watch the minion movie like always but you were secretly happy that they weren’t the majority.) 
Lunchtime was when you decided to let the students have the snacks, they were welcome to go down to the cafeteria with a guardian if they wanted actual food but they didn’t have to. You weren’t surprised when none of the seats became empty. 
Anakin had to wrench the small plastic chair away from his ass before he winked charmingly and speed walked to the snack table to help you. The air between the both of you had inexplicably become charged with insurmountable tension. The chaos didn’t give you much chatting time so you could only glances and brush your arms together; how accidental those touches were was up for debate. 
Especially when he needed to get through to the plates and forks behind you. 
“Sorry, let me just squeeze past you.” He whispered in your ear, his big hands using your waist to steady you as he pressed his back flush against your chest. 
In the blink of an eye he was gone. The invisible hands chained to your skin remained. You fanned your face with one of the cheap paper plates as you floated back to your body and got a hold of yourself.  
You looked over at the Skywalker trio to see Luke and Leia point at you as they tirelessly tug on their dads sleeves until he caved. You saved him the trouble and went to them, bending down so you could hear the twins properly.
“Do you two need something? I could see you making a fuss over here.” You teased. 
“Dad forgot to give you our presents….” Leia mumbled and Luke nodded sharply. 
Your eyes widened, “Oh! You didn’t have to get me anything, but the day’s not over yet. You can give them to me now.”
“I did not forget, Leia.” Anakin shook his head, fidgeting in the uncomfortable chair. “They’re in the basket Dad brought, and your teacher has it in her car outside, okay?” 
You nodded and confirmed their fathers words, “He’s right. I didn’t know that there were things from you and your brother in it too but it’s safe and sound. I pinky swear.” 
Two much smaller pinkies met you halfway and wrapped around yours. The Skywalker twins giggled as they turned it into an impromptu arm wrestle competition and beat you easily. (You felt they were going to snap your finger off if they kept tightening their hold so you bowed out.) 
Anakin watched with hearts in his eyes and his head propped up in his hand, his eyes crinkled at the inherent domesticity of the act. 
Luke and Leia agreed to call their exhibition match a draw. 
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The sun had already set by the time you got home. You were so tired that you nearly dropped your keys down the stairwell; you didn’t want to spend your night fishing them out of the grass.The wicker basket in your arms was at risk of falling too but you got your door opened and you crumpled on the loveseat.
 “Oof, I should probably get this sorted out now or I'll just forget about it.” You said as your body protested you moving a single inch from your sunken spot. 
You grabbed your emerald green pair of scissors and cut the top of the plastic wrap off.The wrapping  squealed as you tore it off the rest of the basket. You peered into it and thankfully it looked like a run of the mill teacher’s appreciation gift; for a valentine’s day it was a little strange but since it was from Anakin… you’d slip on your rose colored glasses. 
There was a medium sized teddy bear, a couple three wick candles; your favorite was the one that smelled like the conversation hearts candy. There was also a custom made box of chocolates from the bakery you frequented, and three burgundy roses that you trimmed properly before dropping them in the vase on your kitchen island. 
The ‘world’s best teacher’ stood out like a sore thumb but it made you smile anyway. 
The teddy bear was incredibly fluffy and bubblegum pink; it’s holding a sparkly red heart with the word ‘princess’ sewed in hot pink thread in the center. You swept the fur away from its black eyes so it could see. The bear was pretty cute, and you had a problem handling your stuffed animal addiction, so you headed to your bedroom and laid it down with the rest of your plushies. 
You yawned and your mouth stretched like a goldfish when it does the same thing. The strings of your red cardigan came undone by your hands and you let it slide off of you and hit the floor. Your pink ribbed top joined it when you gathered enough energy to give a damn and move your arms. 
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Your white bra was so plain but like hell if it didn’t make the man palming himself over his jeans rock hard. The kids were sound asleep in bed and the walls were thick so he could be as loud as he wanted. But this particular session wasn’t about achieving some grand climax. No. He just wanted to take things slow tonight. If he happened to gradually tumble over the edge along the way, he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Anakin loved you, every inch of your body would soon be blissfully aware of that. 
The miniscule camera in the dot above the i in Princess loved you just as much. 
The fire that would wait to invite itself in for a surprise visit until you had left for work loved you more. 
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a/n: i had this in the drafts for a bit but i was having a moment so i didn’t post it until now. happy valentine's day 💞
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miyaagis · 2 months
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you know you like little girls
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choso never expected that an older man's experience and charisma could easily outshine him [ part one ]
+ pairing. geto s. / fem!reader
+ warnings. implied incest, age gap (geto is in his mid 30s, reader in her 20s), modern au, MDNI 18+
+ a/n. happy valentine's day babiessss, sending y'all love and smooches, mwahhh !
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the winter breeze grazes your cheeks, and it's as if they're set in a permanent smile thanks to your best friends’ efforts to cheer you up. your heart is tender and slowly healing, and it’s all thanks to them and their dad, ever since they took you in the warmth of their home almost a week ago.
“dad wants us home now, nanako. are you buying that scarf or not?”
it’s not unusual for the twins to bicker over the smallest things, so with a barely amused chuckle you allow your gaze to wander around, the content smile returning as you take in the pink sky.
it's only a second-long, though, but your eyes must have been searching for him unconsciously. it's only a second-long, and yet it's enough to shatter your mood and heart.
choso’s lips meet her forehead in a tender kiss as they wait to cross the street, their hands intertwined like two lovers that refuse to let go of one another. it hurts so badly, but what hurts the most is the stern glare he fixes you when his dark eyes spot you. suddenly, the weather feels so, so warm compared to the coldness directed at you from his gaze alone.
your smile’s gone, and the flame of hope inside your heart flickers.
“scoot over!”
nanako fixes you a nasty, yet playful glare, clearly refusing to give up her seat in the middle of suguru’s bed. you can’t blame her. his bed is comfy, and she gets to drown in the soft pillows settled at the center of the cloud-like mattress. you glance at mimiko and she avoids eye-contact. with a sigh, you settle on the right side of the bed, watching the girls scroll down trying to pick a movie.
the entire room smells like suguru, and it seems your heart isn’t strong enough to handle it. it all gets worse when he comes in holding a tray of drinks and popcorn, his kind smile and gentle voice easily flustering you. it always has. it’s even worse when he mutters your name as if it were the most precious thing he’s ever uttered out loud.
“sorry, sweetheart. this is my side of the bed.”
the statement shouldn’t put ideas in your mind; there’s nothing remotely explicit about it per se. and yet there is. like a secret that should only be shared and known between lovers.
there’s mirth and obvious playfulness in his eyes, his head tilting slightly to the side as he waits for you to make room for his considerably bulkier frame. with nowhere else to go, you squish your side against nanako who only whines in protest while suguru sits on the other end, sandwiching you between him and his daughter.
“s-sorry,” your hands start to sweat, and you suddenly feel overwhelmed by his presence so close to you. even more when his lips lean closer to your ear.
“hm? i don’t mind,“ the drawl of his voice is a mere whisper, his lips tugging into a fond smile as he grips your bare thigh with a gentle hold. “popcorn?”
suguru spends the whole movie with his hand under the blanket, drawing lazy circles on your skin and pretending he doesn’t feel the heat emanating from between your legs.
it should be a crime how fast he found what you liked. where you enjoyed being kissed the most and which pet names had your heart clenching before beating faster. he discovered things about your body that not even you were aware of.
“my little girl,” his breath fans against your throat, large hands traveling all over your body before stopping at the back of your thighs to jerk you further under his frame, “so, so pretty.”
gentle touches and sweet kisses drown you. he’s everywhere: stroking your hair, caressing your skin, murmuring praises against your lips. it’s overwhelming and calming at the same time, even when his breaths grow labored and his touch harsher.
his name leaves your lips in a shaky exhale, and he’s immediately cradling your face between his hands, searching for whatever it is that ails you through his eyes.
“yes, sweet girl?
how fortunate is it that the twins aren't home. what would they think if they saw how you melt under their father’s touch? would they hate you? i mean, at first all you wanted to do was spend time with him as he watched his favorite show in the living room, it’s not your fault he threw your legs over his lap.
perhaps if they saw how soft his kisses were each time he wished you sweet dreams, or the comforting things he murmured in your ear as you told him how your brother broke your heart by playing favorites; they’d come around.
everyone knows suguru is sweet like that.
no words are needed for what you’re struggling to say, the need for him is obvious, and he chuckles while discarding each piece of clothing, covering the now exposed skin with kisses and gentle nibbles until he’s between your thighs.
“pretty little pussy,” his voice is smooth, tender; full of care and love as he nips at your puffy clit while you whimper, “i love how you moan for me.”
through heavy lids, you admire how handsome he looks with his hair down and lips wet with your juices. the drag of his tongue across your folds is enough to make your toes curl and hands grip his hair, sensing the faint outline of his smile on your wetness.
“and so, so wet…”
a gasp escapes your lips when his finger slides in, his lips around your clit as he massages your walls slowly. it takes him around an hour to let your pussy go, addicted to it and already planning when he’ll get to have a taste again.
“now,” suguru catches your attention over the loud chatter at the restaurant, the girls squint their eyes, already suspicious. “i know i’m just your old man, and you’re probably fed up with me and my constant protectiveness,” at the lack of denial from their part causes him to squint his eyes back at them, “but i expect you to find a decent man that’ll spoil you like you girls deserve. understood?”
his hand squeezes your thigh under the table, and it feels as if the words were being directed at you.
once the pink-colored boxes are handed out to the twins, their eyes brighten up. rushed squeals of ‘thank you’s’ take over the table, while you giggle at the enthusiasm. the excitement over the expensive gifts is enough to distract both girls from noticing the small box being placed in front of you.
“happy valentine’s day, princess.”
his pretty eyes are crinkled as he smiles at you, his hand resting on your lower back in a comforting way while you slowly unwrap his gift.
glimmering silver stares back at you, the heart-shaped pendant big enough to catch the eye of anyone who pays attention, but also discreet enough to not seem tasteless.
it’s perfect.
everything suguru does or says, even the way he walks and breathes it’s perfect. he’s perfect to the point that he knows exactly what to do when the happiness is taken from you with a single text from him.
cho <3: this has dragged out for too long. i want you home now.
the mood is ruined, you're on the verge of tears, and suguru wants nothing more than to take that burden away from your pretty little mind. 
“i don't wanna go back… it’s not fair!”
your hiccups break his heart and he’s quick to hold you close to his chest, rubbing soothing circles and whispering sweet nothings as he signals the girls to get in the car.
it all goes in a blur, you’re no longer at the restaurant, but instead, the twins are waving you goodbye and giving you a worried look as they get inside the house, the car speeding away as suguru drives the familiar path to your home. 
before you can dwell on it, cold and dark eyes stare back at you. suddenly, you’re back to square one, and you don’t like it one bit.
choso can’t say he’s happy to see suguru, of all men, next to you. his mind is suddenly filled with questions: why were you dressed up? that necklace, he had never seen it before, who gave it to you?
“go to your room.”
like magic, the hot tears are back and suguru decides it’s enough. his frame shields you from choso’s gaze and the simmering anger is quickly brought up to a boil.
“i said, go to your–”
“she’s moving in with me,” suguru sounds so different. gone is the sweet and gentle man, only to be replaced by a curt and scary version of him, “permanently.”
choso sees red, pushing suguru back while ordering you one more time to go to your room. suguru only smirks when you hide your face against his arm.
“sweetheart, why don't you go wait in the car for me? we’ll go home soon.” 
and to choso’s surprise, you comply.
suguru smirks even more, watching the grief in choso’s face as he sees you walk away from him and ignoring his cries for you.
about time.
“you know…” he starts, enjoying thoroughly the despair swirling in the younger man’s eyes, ”i always doubted your capability to take care of your siblings, especially her,” suguru’s head tilts back, pointing at you sitting in his car, “i’d have to stop myself from coming here and bringing her home, to make sure she had everything she wanted… every need taken care of…”
suguru is met with silence from choso’s part—defeat—and he can’t help but chuckle. he was always bound to win your sweet little heart, it was a fact.
after all, how can an inexperienced young man compare to a real man like him.
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alastor-simp · 3 months
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Masquerade Ball - Alastor x Reader🎭💃🏼
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Today marked the date of the Pride Ring Ball. Every year in Hell, Lucifer Morningstar would host a ball for the notorious residents in Hell at his palace. The invites extended to the Sins, Overlords, and Goetia family. Sadly, you were just a regular sinner in hell, so no invitation for you, or so you thought. The time you arrived at your apartment in Hell, you noticed the red envelope, with a black seal in your mailbox. "What was this", you thought. Opening the envelope, you realized it was an invitation for the ball. WAIT WHAT?! Thinking it was a mistake, you opened the envelope to see if it was really addressed to you. The message inside the envelope read:
𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒴/𝒩 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒾𝓃𝓋𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝒶𝓈𝓉𝓁𝑒. 𝐼 𝒾𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝒷𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝑒𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓇, 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒾𝓃𝓋𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒮𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁 𝒶𝓈 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒽𝑜𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝓎 𝒹𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓈 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒹𝓊𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓌 𝒶𝓉 𝟪:𝟢𝟢 𝒫𝑀 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓇𝒶𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂𝑒𝒹, 𝓈𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒶 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓀. 𝒞𝒶𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊.
𝒮𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎, 𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒾𝒻𝑒𝓇 𝑀𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇
OMG! It took you awhile to get your jaw off the floor after reading the invitation. You had met Charlie Morningstar, a few times in your time in Hell. She had dropped flyers for her hotel on the ground one day, and you happened to be around to help her. After that, the both of you chatted and exchanged cell phone numbers. She insisted you stay at the hotel, and think about being redeemed. Honestly, you were a bit skeptical on the idea, but you told her you would think about it. You didn't expect her to do this for you. You needed to thank her so much when you saw her at the ball. The big problem was finding a dress to wear. You had plenty of clothes, but none of them were ball material, and the funds you had to buy one was very slim. Trying to come up with an idea, you decided to message Charlie, thanking her very repeatedly for the invite and also if she could help you look for a ball gown and mask. Her response came quickly and she said would handle it and for you not to worry. That left you a bit confused, but you didn't question it and just replied back with a heart and smiley face.
It was the day of the ball, and you had just arrived back home from work. Once you arrived at your door, you noticed there were two golden gift wrapped boxes placed in front of it. Grabbing the boxes and headed inside, you see that they were for you. Opening them, one of them contain a beautiful ball gown and the other a masquerade mask (Dress and mask below)
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This almost felt like a dream. Inside the box was a note from Charlie, saying hope you love the dress and P.S a carriage would arrive for you at 7:00 PM. Taking a look at your clock, the time read 6:30, which gave you enough time to do your hair and makeup. Once that was all sat, it was time to put on the dress, which fitted you like a glove. Placing the mask on your face, you peaked at the clock and saw that it now read 6:58 PM. Heading out, you gotten to the lower level and spotted your ride. It was a large apple carriage, painted red and gold. The driver was an short imp, wearing a tuxedo. The horses were full on skeletons, with flames for the manes. The driver gave you a nod, hopping down from his seat, and opening the carriage door for you. Thanking him, you went inside and took a seat. Soon you heard a crack, and the carriage began to move, heading towards your destination.
The carriage had drawn to a halt, arriving at the Morningstar palace. It was enormous. The exterior was painted an ashen white. The ceiling was a crimson red and there were apple shaped symbols covering the gates. A fountain was in the middle, spewing out red water. The carriage had stopped right in front of the many stairs, leading to the door of the palace. The driver had dropped down again, opening the door for you this time. Stepping out, you gazed at the palace. You still couldn't believe this was really happening. Making your way up the stairs, the doors opened for you. A large hallway was in front of you, leading to two large doors, marked with red apples and snake symbols, along with two demon guards. Taking a deep breath, you made your way over to them. The guards bowed before you, then proceeded to open the door.
The doors opened leading to the upper deck of a staircase, with two stairs going down on both sides. Peering over the deck, you gazed down. In front of you was the ballroom, where the festivities were talking place. A crowd of demons were gathered around certain areas of the room. An orchestra was playing in the corner of the room, and there were tables of refreshments and imps walking around with trays of beverages. Demons of all shapes and sizes were donning beautiful costume and dresses, along with many interesting masks. A few demons had stopped to gaze at you at the top of the staircase, whispering to themselves. Oh boy, you were starting to feel insecure now, but you were already here so might as well pull through. Hiking your dress up a bit, you gracefully walked down the stairs. You gazed around the room, observing many of the different people that were there and hoping to spot Charlie. You walked slowly around the ballroom, taking in everything. You got many different reactions as you walked around. Many demons smiled and bowed at you, which you returned back with a curtsy. Others gave a glare and scoffed at you, which you ignored. You kept looking for Charlie, but it was very difficult since there were so many masks. The thumping of heels could be heard behind you. Turning around, you were tackled into a bear hug, by someone wearing a pink mask and blonde hair. "YOU MADE IT!!!"
Recognizing that voice, you took a step back, realizing it was Charlie, wearing a beautiful magenta ball gown. Smiling you hugged her back. "Ah you must be Y/N!" another called out from behind the both of you. Looking up, you saw the king of hell himself, Lucifer Morningstar along with his beautiful wife, Lilith. He was wearing his signature white suit and hat, while holding his apple cane. He was wearing a white mask, with black feathers covering it. Lilith was wearing a gorgeous amethyst-colored dress, matching her purple diamond mask. Letting go of Charlie, you politely introduced yourself, giving a bow. "Ah no no my dear! No need for formalities!Come here!" Lucifer smiled widely, walking over to you and giving you a bear hug, similar to Charlies. Welp that was a surprise, you figured Lucifer would be a bit more authoritative, but he was a bit of a goofball. Lucifer let you go, leaving Lilith to come towards you. Her presence took your breath away, giving her amazing height. She bent down a bit, and gave you a hug as well, to which you returned. Having let you go, she placed a hand on your cheek, giving you a motherly smile. "Its a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. Charlie has told us much about you. Thank you for being a kind friend to her."
You nodded your head. "Charlie is truly amazing. You both did an great job raising her." Your face turned towards Charlie, giving her a smile as you turned back at Lilith. Charlie eyes watered with happiness, and she gave you another hug, followed by another one by Lucifer. "AWW LILITH! CAN WE ADOPT HER?!" Lucifer said, as he continued to squeeze you. Lilith gave a chuckle, finding her husbands actions adorable. "Now Luci~. Behave yourself." Lilith tapped Lucifers back, letting him know to let you go. Both Charlie and Lucifer finally let you go. You hoped this didn't cause a big scene, especially since there were so many demons around you. Surprisingly, not many demons were looking your way, maybe because of the Morningstars status, no one bother to say anything of give weird looks. Lucifer adjusted his suit, trying to go back to being professional. "Well sorry for cutting his meeting short, Y/N, but we have to meet with the other guests in the room. Do enjoy yourself!" Lucifer gave you a smile and a bow, and began to walk away. His wife smiled back at you, and followed after her husband. Charlie gave you another hug, and went to catch up with her parents. The ball continued around you. Many demons had gone to a center in the room and began to waltz. You decided to stay off to the side, where the refreshments were, and watched everyone dance. You weren't expecting anyone to ask you to dance, so be better if you just stayed in the shadows and observe.
Your eyes spotted a very tall man on the other side of the ballroom. He was sporting a wine-red tuxedo, along with a black mask with red swirls. His smile was very prominent on his face. In his hand was a microphone? That was odd. Most of the male demons were holding canes, so why did he have a microphone. He was very handsome the more you observed him. Soon his eyes were gazing back at yours, and you turned your head away, embarrassed that he noticed you staring.
***Alastor POV***
""Ah another boring event as always." Alastor thought. He was invited to the Morningstar ball, given his overlord status. Finding it rude not to attend, he still showed up. Alastor would have preffered if the band would play something other than classical music, perhaps some jazz or electric swing, oh how riveting it would be. Gazing around the room, Alastor's eyes then locked on to another staring back at him. Well well, who was this? The demon was staring at him, but instead of looking at him with fear, they were admiring him until they saw that he was looking back, and turned away. Alastor's was becoming positively giddy with excitement, as many who dare to look at him never looked at him with eyes like that. Laughing to himself, Alastor began to walk to where you were standing.
***Your POV***
Turning your head back, you noticed the man had left. Damn, maybe he got creeped out from you staring. A tap on your shoulder caused you to jump. Spinning around, it was the very handsome man you were looking at. His smile was the most noticeable thing on him, even with the mask covering his eyes, the smile took up all of his face. Good evening, my dear! I say you look positively stunning!" His voice radiated static, which you found very surprising yet amazing. Blushing at his words, you looked down, muttering a thank you. The man let out a small laugh, then he grabbed your hand and bowed, kissing it. "The name is Alastor, my dear! And you are?" Still flushed at his greeting, you calm down and told him your name: "My name is Y/N. Its a pleasure to meet you." Why did the name sound so familiar? A thought then came rushing into your mind and your whole body tensed. THIS WAS ALASTOR THE RADIO DEMON!! The stories you heard about him were enough to send chills down your back, but you never knew what he looked like in person. He wasn't at all what you expected, less scary then you thought, but looks could be deceiving. Alastor stood next to you, smiling wide. "I haven't see the likes of you before. Are you a newcomer to hell perhaps?"
Shaking your head, you explained everything about how you were friends with Charlie, and she got you to come to the ball. "I honestly still think this is a dream." You told him, as you swirled the drink in your hand. "Ah yes! Charlie is a truly charming demon. I am helping her with her little program at the Hazbin Hotel! I'm sure you have heard of it, my dear?" He said, as he folded his hands behind his back. He was helping her with the hotel? Why would the most notorious overlord be helping her. You kept your question to yourself as you thought he probably had his own reasons for helping Charlie. "I have yes. Charlie asked me to come and stay there. I am a bit skeptical at the moment about it thought. Maybe later on, I can decide." Alastor hummed to himself, as he gazed at you, his eyes flashing crimson. "It is a very entertaining environment. I would be very pleased to see you there." That made your heart race. Alastor then turned to you, extending his hand out. "Care for a dance, my dear?" Feelings of nervousness began to fill your body. You didn't know how to dance, let alone waltz. "Um, I-I don't know how to dance." Looking down ashamed, you imagined you had upset him. His hand then grabbed yours, and starting pulling you towards the dancing. "Not to worry, my dear. I will teach you!" The both of you had arrived to the center of the dancing area. He had turned you around, and pulled you closer, placing one hand in yours, and the other on your waist. "Eyes up, my dear! Follow my lead!" You weren't ready for this. It was a bit rough in the beginning, but you slowly began to memorize the steps, and started dancing along.
The demons surrounded you began to depart, and pretty soon only you and Alastor were dancing. The crowds stopped and stared at the both of you. Whispering words could be heard. "Is that the radio demon?!" "Who is he dancing with?" "Never seen them before?" The words didn't bother you, as you began to become lost in the dancing, and in Alastors eyes.
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The whole world around you began to blur, as you focused manly on the man in front of you. He was smiling down at you still, but his eyes were gazing at you tenderly. He spun you around, causing your dress to lift a bit. "You are a quick learner! I must say I'm impressed." He leaned down, whispering to you. Smiling, you thanked him. Soon the dance came to an end. Applause erupted around the both of you. Standing hand in hand, you both gave a bow. After the dance, you and Alastor went outside and roamed around the castle gardens, chatting about certain topics and cracking a few jokes.
Suddenly an announcement was given out, letting everyone know the ball was coming to an end. Alastor was nice enough to escort you outside, where the carriage was waiting to return you home. "I must say my dear, this was the most fun I have had at the Morningstar ball!" His smile had calmed down to a simple grin, as he gazed at you. This was your first time at a ball and you didn't want it to end. The time you spent with Alastor was entirely magical, making your heart flutter. "I enjoyed spending time with you as well Alastor. Thank you." Cocking his head, he was asking what you were thanking him. Feeling shy, your eyes darted down. "Coming to a ball like this, despite being a normal sinner with no royal or overlord status, had me nervous the whole time. But, spending time with you helped calm me down. I got to enjoy the ball and I got to enjoy it with you. So, thank you." The smile on your face, made Al's heart skip a beat. How strange, he thought. Smiling tenderly, Al grabbed your hand again, giving it another kiss. "I'm glad I was able to make your night enjoyable, my dear. May our paths cross again someday." The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and your face flushed crimson again.
You thanked Alastor again, as you made your way to the carriage and hopped inside. As the carriage began to move, you took another look back at Alastor through the window. Smiling still, you gave a small wave which he returned. The carriage then began to depart the castle, making its way back to your home. During the ride back home, you placed a hand on your heart. It was beating rapidly. You never felt like this before and it was making you nervous and excited. No one has ever made you feel like that before. Maybe you could give the hotel a shot, as long as you could see Alastor again. Giving out a dreamy sigh, you gazed out the window, staring at the crimson sky.
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bahrtofane · 3 months
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just your luck to have your favorite study spot taken, even if he’s cute, you’ve decided you’re enemies now. jude thinks other wise
word cout - 800+
watch it - puff fluff and silliness
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5.43 pm, 4th floor library. partly cloudy but pleasant early october day. not cold enough just yet for snow but chilly enough for cute sweaters. 
halloween is just around the corner, then thanksgiving. winter break is so close ! life is good. great even. smooth sailing. you have a celebratory donut from the cafe downstairs in one hand, and chai in the other. a little treat for the exam you just finished. 
you hum a song aimlessly under your breath as you maneuver around students and staff to get to your place. 
it’s a hidden jem. up on the top floor, allll the way back in the farthest left corner lies a tiny nook with a bean bag that overlooks campus in the prettiest way. Large triangle window with tiny little details in its fixtures.  it’s quiet, calm, and you actually get work done there. 
no ever comes up and it’s peace between the hectic campus life and extreme party culture. you're thinking of maybe just getting comfy and watching a movie today. a blanket would be nice, you could bring one next time, that one that-
your train of thought is derailed faster than it can recover.
your safe haven has been invaded.
there’s a man ! in your spot !! uhg. 
you can't believe it after almost half a semester of serenity the one thing you had is ripped away from you. mid chai, donut and all. the cruelty of the world has never seemed more apparent. you are reminded again that as soon as you can get comfortable, your ripped away and thrown back to reality. 
are you being dramatic ? yes. do you care ? no
the audacity of some people. 
you know logically this isn’t your spot. it’s in the public library where any student can sit and it’s good to share, morals are good. but holy fuck do you hope the guy who’s all cozied up has a fantastic time and maybe trips out the window. 
you resort to having to use a table like some commoner. 
——-
day 2, 4:30 pm. 4th floor. this time, you're sure everything was just a fluke and you’ll be back in business in no time. comfy cozy spot with pretty window. 
your inner peace gets squashed as yet again, your spot is being occupied. this time you need to look into the eyes of the criminal. 
you choose a seat facing the bean bag and set up shop to judge and send him bad vibes. 
unexpectedly, he’s pretty cute even from far away. handsome even. he’s got one of those faces people remember, his features sit so nice and the way he’s basically burying his face into a text book is a little cute you won’t lie. but this doesn’t change anything. 
he’s your enemy. regardless if he’s aware of it or not. 
you soon tune him about in favor of getting work done, but don’t miss the occasional glaces he gives you. 
how interesting. 
——-
your friends tell you this is the start of some enemies to lovers after you fill them in. but you don’t agree. 
especially now that it's the 3rd time. 
you think he’s quite stupid. no amount of pretty smiles and shy glances is going to change the fact that he stole your special once secret library spot. he’s ruined your life ! this is the third time he’s done so. there’s no way you're going to forgive this behavior. 
never mind you don’t know his name or the fact that you’ll most likely never talk to him. your rage runs deep, silent and personal. 
you hope his socks are wet for the next month. 
you might even start a diary just to be able to complain about him in a stupid amount of detail. whatever. 
you spend the next hour or so typing a little aggressively while hoping he bursts into flames or disappears. funny enough, while you take a little social media break, you look up to find him gone. it would be good riddance, expect for the fact that he appears in front of you not a moment later. 
“um, hi?” are the timid words that come from him. his voice does not match the face wow. 
though, he’s even more attractive up close. 
“hello? can i help you?” you try 
“yeah um, actually. i wanna apologize.” 
your left in awe. is he going to apologize for his thievery? is the criminal going to confess his guilt. is this the end of your rage. 
“ i know the bean bag is your spot because you come in at the same time i do and always use it. “
you narrow your eyes, “so you decided to take it because?”
he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “um actually i just think you’re really cute and couldn’t think of another excuse to talk to you. my bad.”
“for the record i’m still very mad you took my spot. “ you sigh, not really though. You just like to be drammtic, but he eats it right up. cute.
he nods quickly. “understood. how about i take you out to make up for it ?”
you hum, “i’d like that. “
he smiles, “great. can i get your number to plan it out ?”
“mhm”
and with that your left with your spot now yours again. and a blooming possibility on the horizon. 
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