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#I could go on about this for days but i regress
pahtoosh · 1 year
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doctor daddy
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[image ID: a behind the scenes photo of Sebastian Stan as Lee Bodecker from The Devil All The Time. He is standing with his hands in his pockets and looking off into the distance. /.end ID]
masterlist
18+
wc: ~980 words
warnings: Lee wants to beat someone up(no one in particular, he’s just frustrated), reader is in physical pain, mentions of painkillers, written on my phone, sappy and needy reader as usual. Lee carries reader.
a/n: this picture makes me giggle, I wonder what he’s thinking about.
pairing: lee bodecker x gn!little!reader
summary: Lee’s baby is hurting
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Pain and suffering: that’s all you knew. The sun never seemed so dull and the nights never seemed so cold. You wondered if you’d survive the ne-
“Baby?”
Oh! Daddy’s home!
Lee quickly toed off his shoes and met you at the couch, setting down his paper grocery bag along the way. You looked adorable swaddled up in a blanket with your stuffed bunny, but Lee’s heart couldn’t help but ache for you.
You’d been stuck on the couch all day. Standing or even sitting up required too much energy, not to mention that shifting positions could mean upsetting your body further.
Earlier today Lee wanted to call in sick and tend to you, but you assured him that you would be okay as he went on with his shift at the station. He lovingly carried you to the couch where he’d set up everything you could’ve possibly needed while he was gone. Blankets, painkillers, snacks, water, books, and the TV remote were all within reach. Your daddy left you with a kiss on the forehead and strict instructions to rest up, drink water, eat a snack, and call him if you needed help.
You obliged with a yes, daddy and made it through the next seven hours still in pain, bored, and missing your daddy. You were so happy when he came home, but your state meant you had to wait for him to come to you instead of running to meet him at the door as usual. Luckily, Lee wasted no time getting to your side. He’d missed you just as much as you’d missed him.
He held your smaller hand in his and gave you three gentle kisses on your forehead, the tip of your nose, and your puffed out lip. Lee normally loved your pouty face but knowing that this one was caused by your state of pain rather than an adorable neediness made it less enjoyable. He almost wished there was a single person responsible for your pain so he could take it out on them, but he knew all he could do now was be here for you.
“How ya feelin’ sweetie?”
“Hurts, Daddy.”
Lee muttered a curse under his breath and gently massaged the hand he was holding. “My poor baby. ‘ wish there was somethin’ I could do to help. I could beat up someone right now, makes me so mad seein’ my baby hurt like this.”
You shook your head and pulled his hand closer. “Just need Daddy.”
Lee smiled for the first time that day. “And you’ll get him, sweetheart. Just let me help ya out a little first, yeah? I stopped by the store and got somethin’.”
You raised your eyebrows in curiosity. Lee normally just bought the essentials, and you technically had everything you could need to recover at home already. He tucked your arm back under the blanket and began pulling stuff out of the bag.
“I gotcha a different kinda pain medicine, this one’s a cream. There’s a new thermometer, in case the old one wasn’ workin’ right and my baby really is sick. This here’s a new pair of socks to keep yer feet warm and protected. And this is a lollipop for being my good ‘n brave little baby.”
You admired your new socks and treat with a soft thank you daddy and let Lee fuss over you with his new supplies. He cleaned the new thermometer and let out a sigh of relief when it confirmed that you were at a safe temperature. He swapped out your old, worn-out socks with the new, softer ones. And then he carefully peeled back the blanket and your clothing to rub in the pain-relief cream.
After Lee washed his hands, he climbed in behind you on the couch, replacing the numerous pillows and blankets with his solid body. His round belly fit perfectly into the curve of your back, and his strong arms acted like a weighted blanket. He knew just how to support you to keep you comfortable and ease your pain.
In this position, he could also speak to you in a hushed tone and feel butterflies in his chest whenever you whispered back or snuggled closer to him.
You asked him about his day. He kept it brief, mostly talking about how much he missed you. He only shared the details of his work with you when you were at your big age; Lee was very diligent about preserving the safety of your little mind.
He turned the question on you, listening to you describe the episodes of Bugs Bunny you watched and what antics your stuffies got into today. He loved hearing about your inner world. Lee never got to explore his imagination too much. His responsibilities kept him tied to the real world, so he admired that you were able to keep that part of you alive while still dealing with your own issues.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence before you were overcome with the need to tell your daddy how much you appreciate him.
“Thank you for takin’ care of me, Daddy.”
Lee kissed the back of your head. “It’s no problem, sweetheart. That’s what daddies are for. You feelin’ any better? That pain medicine doin’ its job yet?”
“Mhm.” You nodded and then turned your head to muffle your next sentence, shy about the sappy words about to leave your mouth. “Daddy’s the best medicine though.”
Lee chuckled and pulled you closer if that was possible. “Oh yeah? What makes ya say that?”
You squeezed his arms wrapped around you and wiggled against his belly, proving your point. “Daddy’s soft and cozy and strong. And Daddy gives the best cuddles.”
Lee shook his head, not believing how lucky he was to have you in his life. “Daddy loves you, baby. And I’ll never stop cuddling you.”
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Mingjue's gaze softens.
"Didi. You are confused. You are misinterpreting brotherly love for romantic interest."
Huaisang clenches his firsts and stares down at the floorboards. His expression morphs into one of pain. He draws in a deep breath.
"Da-ge, please sleep with me." Mingjue's body jerks back at his little brother's words. "If I sleep with you, then I'll know for sure what I'm feeling."
#bro doing anything but organizing her code#my brother says i write like i wasnt allowed to go to school#recently my brother had to do a project for school where he had to pick up a new hobby#he didnt do the assignment and at the last day he was like brother im so fucked help me#so i let him use one of my fanfics for the before and told him to use his own fanfic as an after and present that#his professor told him his improvement was incredible#thats all i have to say#theres something so cringe about when i write#ill write it and be like yeah. and then i read over it and die#unironically i actually run away from my fics. i have never once read them again after finishing#like when i draw. i look at it. im like yeah that part is good that part is bad. pretty mid but its ok.#writing? i turn red and hide from the monster i have created#i think my writing could be lethal. like if i read all my fics one after the other id die from cringe poisoning#i regularly look at my old drawings and cry how much ive regressed. but i can look at them.#one time my friend wanted to torture me so he called me to read my fics out loud. i endorse this as an execution method#shit gets me sweating. i have to get normal about this#some words#wip#the second wip actually#the first one is the saber spirit takes over nmj and he fucks nhs on the training grounds infront of everyone.#second one is nmj is like brother you have to stop being a freak this is getting out of hand and nhs is like nuh-uh. but also how'd you kno#on a side note remember my former student that confessed? yeah well#he proposed marriage
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liinos · 9 months
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the way my head is spinning trying to plan out my fucking day today... i need to stop agreeing to things and also my neighbors need to stop having their dogs eat and go out and such at the same time
#7am to feed and let out 2 of them then feeding another then morning walks then i have pt right when two of them need afternoon walks but#and the other needs to get let out but by the time i get back i said i would stay with another one for a few hours and she has separation#anxiety but i have to feed alllll of them dinner at some point so hoping praying i can leave her for like 30 minutes 😭 bc i could before#but she might have regressed on her progress 🚶‍♀️#i also agreed to get up extra early one of the days i'm watching the pair to feed them at like 6 and like 🧍🏻‍♀️ i'm actually just going#to stay awake like at that point it's easier on me 😭#not that i don't like money and like i like those dogs but it does annoy me that i have to do stuff WHILE the husband is there#simply bc he doesn't really 'get' the dogs but they do like him just fine and it's just feeding and walking... the morning is just food#and taking them out and like i am so not a morning person... i nearly went insane when i was doing it over the winter#like i'm so serious the way i was Hurtling towards a mental breakdown bc i was constantly tired bc of it#at least it'll be light out now but still being up that early actually makes me feel Bad like i am Unwell mentally if not physically#everything is wrong that time of day and sometimes he's HOME when i go to feed them and tries to talk to me like i cannot be spoken to#until i've been Awake for at least 20 minutes and i especially cannot be spoken to before 10am#i was plotting his downfall over the winter like i was cold bc i'd been outside but i was also Sweating bc i was in a winter coat and walke#*walked and my pajama shirt makes me sweat sooo much and it was still dark and i'd almost slipped on the ice which would actually have#made me homicidal and this man is making his coffee and taking his time bc he doesn't have to leave for another half hour 🧍🏻‍♀️#if i didn't have to do breakfast id be way less moody about it but like i am nawtttt a morning person#when i stay over with the dogs they let me sleep until 9 and then they ask to be fed like they respect me enough for that
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waughymommy · 15 days
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Diaper Discipline Guide
Emma & Henry
My boyfriend of 4 years has always had regressive and sub tendencies while I’ve wanted to talk more control in our relationship. We tried several bdsm activities including smacking and bondage but the occasional nature wasn’t really doing it for me.
After finding out more online about Female Led Relationships I came across DD, initially dismissing it. But the more I read, the better and better the idea appealed to me. After some planning I decided to confront my partner and say I wanted to add an element of control and domination into our relationship, by saying I hadn’t decided how to do it yet we had a long discussion without diapers being mentioned where he agreed in principle to “lifestyle dominance” as long as it could be kept between them and not impact his job, friends, etc. 
This guide was invaluable to me to plan the rest and it solidified my decision. It took me two weeks to discreetly buy the required supplies, getting them delivered to our apartment on days he was at work. I decided that I wanted a high initial level of DD where he’d be in diapers 24/7 at home.
I decided to start on a Friday night after work. He’d known that I had been preparing for something and I started the conversation by saying my proposal was weird, reassuring him that it wouldn’t be painful/harmful and nobody else would find out but you wanted him to agree to try it for at least 6 weeks.
Although nervous he also seemed excited by the prospect and agreed. We moved to the bedroom where I told him to get undressed before I diapered him for the first time. There was a lot of objections at this stage but I talked him round and the agreement to try it for 6 weeks was helpful.
To make the shock less I started with a medical diaper which wasn’t too thick and let him wear his normal pjs over it. I left him to explore it on his own while going to make dinner. After dinner it was time to tell him all the rules, the main one was that the toilet at home was now banned and he’d be in diapers whenever he’s at home. I kept the baby elements to a minimum and said he’s have to also wear out the house sometimes but I’d make sure nobody could tell and never when he’s at work or with friends/family. I’m not going to lie and say this didn’t involve an argument, especially when he realised that no toilet meant #2 as well but we got through. We ended up watching a movie which was a good way for him to calm down.
He wet his diaper for the first time after the movie which was funny to watch as he was so nervous it was going to leak everywhere. Even though it wasn’t too wet I did change him straight away and made his change extra special too. That night he slept in a diaper for the first time.
Over the first weekend he did get more used to wearing and I allowed him to use the toilet for a bm on Saturday. Sunday however I decided to fully enforce the rules and he messed himself for the first time. I didn’t change him this time and he took a shower. There was a lot of protests again but I said it was none-negotiable. The smell did seem to be the biggest thing that bothered him so I bought some Devrom tablets which had been recommended, it took a few days for them to arrive and a few more of taking them but now his messy diapers hardly smell and the protests have stopped. I’d actually recommend you use these from day 1 to make the transition easier.
The first week was tough but we got through it and I’m happy to say we’re now 7 months in to him being in DD. Over that time I’ve moved to thicker abdl diapers, he wears onesies regularly around the house and the toilet has remained unused by him with only a few exceptions.
We both work mainly from home so I’ve gotten used to checking and changing his diaper but thick diapers + devrom has meant he generally only needs a change after waking up, sometime in the early afternoon and before bed. I’ll also let him change himself if I’m busy or cba. 
The best news is after an initial rocky patch, our relationship feels stronger than ever! He proposed to me 5 months in and I can’t see his DD ending any time soon. I’ve increased elements overtime and now the toilet is banned even when out of the house together. Public wearing did take him a while to get used to but actually it’s easy. 
I’m sure DD is not for everyone and is much more involved and hard work than other lifestyle changes but for creating a caring bond between you and your partner I’ve found it to be great!
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comicaurora · 3 months
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I'm sorry that the terfs made their way onto your blog but it does feel good to see you support trans people. Thank you for that
Always.
I think, charitably, that the discourse going down on that post is an extrapolation and over-focus on one element of the point I was making: that for me, determining with certainty that I was cis was a rather fraught process. I was presented with many alternatives, but underlying their imposition on me was the oddly regressive idea that the things I liked, the principles I valued, the parts of myself I was proud of were not permitted of women. My whole life I got smacked with the background radiation that I couldn't like being strong because women aren't allowed to be stronger than men. I couldn't like being loud and boistrous because women aren't allowed to take up space. I couldn't be a math geek because women aren't smart. It was all deeply regressive misogyny from day one, but I started getting hit with it slathered in a fresh coat of paint - all those assumptions still held to be true, but now there was the out that I could do all those things if I just wasn't a woman.
Concluding that the underlying bioessentialist premise was wrong was very important. Absolutely none of those statements were true, and were only ever maintained by cultural saturation, goalpost-readjustment when they were actively disproven, and the occasional bout of lying with statistics to pretend they weren't just Shit All The Way Down. The core premise that certain things were only permitted of or possible for men was bullshit, and I didn't need to surrender the gender I liked best in order to play in the spaces I wanted to. I could simply exist the way I was already existing. I didn't need anything else.
The misinterpretation is the assumption that this being true of me means this is everybody's relationship with gender. I turned out to be cis, so for me, feeling that holding onto my assigned gender wasn't allowed was distressing - just another invocation of the same bioessentialist bullshit I'd been dealing with since the preschool playground. This is because misgendering is fundamentally denying that a person has the right to express themself the way they want. When aimed at me, it says I'm not performing traditional femininity well enough to deserve my pronouns. The same disrespect is the root of misgendering when aimed at trans people. "Perform your gender to my satisfaction or I will confiscate it."
The problem is, bioessentialism is 100% ingrained into the terf playbook, which is why, for instance, all their shitty talking points about trans athletes eventually boil down to "no woman can ever defeat a man in any contest because we are simply naturally weak and stupid and there is nothing we can do about it" and quite frankly nothing disgusts me more than the defeatist acceptance of the very lie that feminism is dedicated to overcoming. Instead of accepting that the paradigm of bioessentialism is a false dichotomy right from the jump, they embrace and weaponize it against the people whose existence proves the dichotomy is a lie. If gender essentialism is fundamentally false, then it is nobody's fucking business what anybody does with their gender. If the lines don't exist, nobody needs to enforce them. And yet there the terfs go, hunting down people whose lives are none of their business and trying to argue that they represent some great and terrible evil, some downfall of society made flesh, something that makes it totally correct and normal for them to spend so much time thinking about strangers' genitalia. They want this to be a noble crusade so badly they won't even examine what flag they're flying.
I love and support the trans people in my life and will always, always stand on the side of your right to exist, but alongside that, terf rhetoric especially disgusts and infuriates me because it is, at its heart, utter cowardice. The world told them they were weak and stupid and inferior and they fucking believed it. And now they think Fighting The Good Fight For Women means turning around and using the same paradigmatic weapon that hurt them to hurt the people whose existence outside the binary proves the weapon is a lie. They're the same shithead schoolyard bullies who made me believe my entire existence was foundationally wrong for years of my life and I will never, ever side with them or the shitty, cowardly rhetoric that contributed to the loneliest years of my life.
Figure out who you are and do it on purpose. Find the real source of the misery in your life and try fighting that instead of the other crabs in the bucket. Trans rights.
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sfznyxio · 29 days
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❝ 𝐈, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ❞
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. everyone says you’re the curse of your own legacy. dubbed “the worst ruler ever in history”, power is all you cared about. your selfishness leads to the downfall of your own kingdom, with you murdered at the hands of people you thought could be trusted. somehow the next day, you regress to the day you become the sole successor to the throne after the previous sovereign passed. can you prove your worth and show them you have what it takes to be the sovereign in this timeline?
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. argenti, bronya, dan heng, dr. ratio, gepard, jing yuan, ruan mei, sunday, trailblazer (caelus & stelle)
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. f!reader. royal au, time travel au. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. 1.9k words. inspired by billion manhwas that have this trope lol. the royal family is absolutely horrible and reader hates them. reader experiences dissociative amnesia due to trauma from said family and the previous timeline. lots of self-doubt. death is everywhere in this fic. a dark joke about betrayal (bronya). reader has hair (gepard). murder of a loved one and revenge (sunday).
𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀. new year, new blog, and new fic but two months later! on spring break so i’m happy i got to write again, even if it’s just a little bit. watch me disappear for another six months or so because grad school’s a bitch.
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𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈.
rumor has it among a group of chivalrous knights from a forgotten land that their deity, the god of beauty idrila, is in your kingdom. you happen to come across one of them when you snuck out of the castle. the knight introduces himself as argenti, a knight of beauty… a very strange one.
what person talks to objects as if they’re people and compliments them that they’re beautiful? as soon as he lays on you, he’s in front of you on one knee and kisses your hand, declaring that you’re beautiful, even as beautiful as idrila themself. surely you’re weirded out, but he seems sincere. 
there’s a possibility that your advisor sent a search party after you. you generally hate being escorted on your outings due to your upbringing, but going back there isn’t where your mind wants to be, so you ask the knight if he could be your company. ah, how could he resist a beautiful lady like yourself?
will he still see you as such when you ascend the throne?
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𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐀.
house rand is known for their strong military leadership and is a unique case of nobility. majority of its lineage are commoners, going through a selection process as children to be adopted by the current leader and be trained as their successor. shortly before your ascension, former leader cocolia rand passed away. no one knows the cause of death, except her daughter.
marchioness bronya pays a visit to introduce herself as the new leader of the house. the two of you express condolences for your families, though you try not to flinch at how she praises the late sovereign like everyone else. she believes you can keep secrets well, which isn’t entirely wrong, so she asks to borrow you. you already know the topic of discussion: the actual cause of death of madam cocolia.
it’s me. her dialogue muffles into white noise. madam cocolia has made a deal with her daughter to kill her if anything happens. hm…? did you put trust in someone to stop you if you ever went insane? can you stab me in the back if that’s the case? your mouth runs on its own, and she’s in shock. you brush it off as a joke afterwards, saying she should ignore it. yet you can’t yourself as it’s been haunting you since.
do you trust her to end your suffering, for the good of the kingdom?
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𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆.
the archivist strikes you as someone who dislikes bothersome people, so you try not to spend too much time researching your condition. though upon meeting dan heng at the library, he appears courteous and doesn’t mind your company. what leaves you puzzled is that he doesn’t question your sudden interest in time travel and regression. instead, he leads you upstairs.
on the way there you trip and he grabs onto you, triggering a flashback of the mob capturing you with tight holds during your escape. realizing the intensity of his grip on you because your body’s shaking, he lets go and adjusts his hand placement to your back so you can get up. then he makes sure you’re alright before reaching the data bank.
he assumes that you’re still traumatized from your family’s death based on your reaction to that memory. everyone believes the same thing, and it’s definitely wrong. but you can’t magically convince them that you’ve seen the future where they’ll die because of you. however, his intentions make you feel at ease. he says he’ll be nearby for help. is it really okay to rely on someone else for once?
will he stick to his word and catch you when you fall to your death?
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𝐃𝐑. 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎.
the intelligentsia guild believes that knowledge is a valuable resource to obtain various mediums of information across the world. having one of their own at the castle not only as a professor at the royal academy, but as the advisor to the next sovereign is quite an honor. dr. ratio may be a brilliant scholar, but his interpersonal skills… not so much.
there isn’t a day where you’re spared from his lectures. to be fair, you’ve done questionable things after your family’s passing: sneaking out of the castle, researching time travel and regression, and raising raccoons that almost destroyed your garden and your servants’ sanities. nevertheless, you’re irritated by his emphasis on your reputation as a ruler. does it look like i want to be one? you storm out without a second thought.
after calming down, you search for him to apologize. you should’ve told him about how you felt instead of letting out an outburst. unfortunately he has gone home, but leaves a note that addresses your “odd hobbies” - ways to not alert the servants during your escapades, literature of topics of interest that aren’t in the library, and interventions of minimizing the chaos of your familiars. you take it as an apology; he’s more considerate than you think even if he doesn’t admit it.
can he stay by your side if you decide to abdicate the throne?
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𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃.
house landau is the “shield” of the kingdom, serving the royal family for generations. their current leader count landau is a stern man from what you recall the several times you visited him as a child. now he’s forced to retire due to his illness, replaced by his eldest and only son gepard, your childhood friend.
the two of you haven’t interacted much as you reach the training period for succession, whereas his father drills him to be insubordinate to the royal family as they have been. with your parents gone and the count ill, you can see him whenever you wish. but how should you approach him? more importantly, does he still see you as a friend? you give up instantly, exhausted from your mental trip to the past.
amidst the flames, he yells at you to run as shadows consume him. you shoot up - bloodshot eyes, rapid heartbeat, and heavy breaths. a pair of arms engulfs you, one hand rubbing your back and the other buried in your hair. rest, i’m here, he whispers against your forehead. you start to lose it, sobbing uncontrollably on his chest.
is this what giving in to your selfish gains feels like?
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𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍.
the sight of citizens flocking to the plaza can be seen from your balcony. 
three people emerge from the crowd, who you recognize as residents of the civilization in the sky: the xianzhou alliance. they have no reason to be here unless it’s important business, and that happens to be you. how forgetful you are.
earlier you test a theory that hopefully changes your tragic fate. it takes courage to act like a jester in front of the council, sending diplomats to invite various factions to forge alliances. the entire court and yourself are amazed that one of the arbiter-generals jing yuan is here in the flesh. the xianzhou rely on themselves for help rather than outsiders, so there must be something that he wants from you.
little did you know while you’re interested in the xianzhou’s manpower, he’s interested in you. his two attendants have never seen their general smitten over someone before; it’s obnoxious. his visits become frequent; his purpose of seeking specific resources is really an excuse to shower you with gifts. he appreciates how headstrong you are throughout the tragedies you faced, wishing you give yourself more credit. he has faith in your capability as a sovereign, even if you don’t agree. 
he’s not here to play with your feelings, is he?
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𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐈.
house ruan is revered by academia as geniuses of the century, yet rarely shows up in public as they care less about being in the spotlight. rather, they dedicate their lives to science. their daughter carries the household name with grace and elegance, though it can’t be said the same with her experiments in which she entrusts you to be her assistant.
lady ruan mei is interested in the concept of life. cycles of birth, growth, and death. existence of the living. development of cognition, emotions, and behaviors. they’re fascinating to her. creating lifeforms makes you feel some sort of sorrow; your creation is modeled after yourself. then you wonder how your family reacted when you were born.
soon you’re asked by the scientist about your existence, and whether you believe the gods can answer that. now that you think about it, were they involved in your regression? the human race worships the power of the heavens: creation and destruction. death is inevitable, but can the gods also rewrite reality? if they choose to send you back in time, did they want you to redeem yourself?
why bother going so far if you’re going to screw up again?
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𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘.
no one hosts festivities as grand as house oak. under the impression that you’ve been secluded in your room grieving over the previous sovereign, they’ll throw a small party to cheer you up and celebrate your upcoming ascension. the thought of announcing you want to abdicate the throne is tempting, but their efforts will go to waste so you scrap it. might as well keep up a front and plan your next moves.
you’re welcomed into the venue by the high priest sunday, the organizer of this party. you’re feeling nervous, not because of the amount of guests but because of his overwhelming presence. he doesn’t seem familiar, or are you misremembering? do you still feel unwell, your majesty? behind the high priest is a young woman who bears some resemblance to him, and everything all at once falls into place.
his sister is the precious sun of his life, executed by the eclipse. the high priest follows the royal family without hesitation, only for his loyalty to be questioned at her expense. he isn’t the type to act so rash, but for her he’ll go to great lengths to exact his revenge. you lie to the siblings that you’re fine and tell the high priest to take care of her. there’s more than meets the eye regarding your behavior, but he just agrees to not arouse any suspicion.
what secrets have your people been hiding from you?
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𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑.
there are twin raccoons that practically live in your garden and are your servants’ worst nightmares. somehow they’re kind of like you - living in luxury while rotten to the core. you remember ordering your servants to exterminate them last time, so you take them instead so you won’t freak them out, much to your advisor’s dismay.
later you discover that caelus and stelle are shapeshifters who lost their memories, with their only lead being a magenta-haired woman. to your surprise they love to gossip, which proves themselves useful to be your spies, gathering intel on the current news that could coincide with the ones in the previous timeline. they can also find information about that woman. killing two birds with one stone. 
sometimes you worry about their work ethic, considering how chaotic they can be. for instance, their unhealthy obsession with trash cans. as much as you need them to get the job done, you realize you’re nothing better than your family. those two are extensions of yourself, learning about the world just as you are. so you step back and let them have fun with scraps. they’ll get to their missions eventually.
they appear to be loyal to a fault so there’s no way they’ll betray you, right?
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harryspet · 4 months
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bambi eyes (3) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
word count: 3.4k
In which you do your best to deal with your Daddy's mood swings.
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bambi eyes masterlist
You felt like you were seeing Rafe less and less as the next two weeks went on. He was stressed about what was going on with work. He often paced back and forth in front of you, ranting, although he was never specific about the details of what was going on. 
You noticed that he grabbed you tighter, pushed you harder into the mattress, and talked less during sex whenever something outside was affecting him. You were starting to accept it; it never hurt too much, and you’d be more scared if he weren’t interested in you in that way. If he didn’t want to be intimate with you, then there was a chance he wouldn’t want you anymore. 
As much as Rafe promised you this was permanent, you couldn’t fully believe him. He had done all of this just for you, so you had to be able to offer him something special in return. 
Like Rafe wanted, you established a routine. Every morning the birds would wake you up exactly at eight, and you’d make your bed which kept you from napping all day. Staying in your room was causing your imagination to stretch.  You found new ways to entertain yourself, including trying on all the clothes in your wardrobe and throwing elaborate tea parties with all your stuffed animals and dolls. 
One night that you thought would be like the last twelve nights, Rafe came to you after Lana had already brought you dinner. He wasn’t dressed in his usual khakis and dress shirt but in sweatpants and a pullover. You were curled up on the window seat, drawing flowers in a notebook, when Rafe came over to join you. 
“Hi,” You spoke softly. He placed a warm hand on your knee, and you slowly closed your notebook. 
“Hi, baby,” There was an ease and calmness to his voice that made you believe he’d actually had a good day, “What are you working on? Show me.”
You sat up, leaning closer, as you handed him the notebook. You hid slightly behind your knees as Rafe began to flip through the pages. At this point, you’d covered half of the pages in your doodles, “Oh wow, these are really pretty, Bambi,” He smiled with his entire face, including his bright eyes, “We should hang some of these on the fridge.”
You felt a bit of relief, hearing that he liked him, “I have more. Way more. I’ve colored a lot of the coloring books.”
“Go get them, I’ll pick my favorites,” Excitedly, you got up from the window seat. When you set several full coloring books in his lap, Rafe’s lips parted in shock, “Okay, wow, I don’t think I realized how much coloring you’d been doing.”
“I think it’s fun,” You said. 
“Good, I want you to have fun,” Rafe nodded, “But have you worn down all your color pencils? How come you haven’t asked for more?”
You shrugged when Rafe gave you an inquisitive look, “I try to take care of the ones I have.”
“Would you even ask Daddy for more coloring books if you ran out of pages to color?”
“Maybe,” You spoke honestly. 
The idea of asking for more than what Rafe had already given you did make your heart race. Rafe shook his head at something, “Daddy will get you lots more art supplies. Maybe you could try painting?”
“We could paint together?” You perked up. 
“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe assured you, “I’m really, really sorry I haven’t been here as much as I’ve wanted to. Needed to, really. It’s just … I’m working on a lot of things right now, you know?”
“I’ve been okay,” You said, “Lana has been kind to me.”
“Good, good, I want you to be happy here, you know? That’s why I want you comfortable asking for things,” You watched Rafe’s eyes wander towards the bookshelf, “Like your books. I never see you reading them. Do you not like them?”
“I do,” You said quickly.
Rafe started to stare deeply at you, “What-what is it?”
“I . . . “
“I can pick some different ones for you? What do you like?”
“I like it when you read to me, Daddy,” Rafe tilted his head and the mentioning of his nickname didn’t light up his features like usual, “It’s hard for me. I never needed to … do that.”
He paused, which made you think you’d done something wrong, “You’ve never needed to read?”
“I can do it,” You said, “It’s hard when they’re all together, and there’s so many… the words. I’m sorry you think I don’t like the books you picked. I really do. I will try harder–”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe rushed to put the coloring books aside and grab ahold of your face, “I just didn’t know, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all.”
It wasn’t something you’d ever felt embarrassed about, but now you couldn’t help but feel stupid. Deep down, you felt a guy like Rafe deserved someone better. He deserved someone smarter than you. 
You closed your eyes, wanting to hang your head, but Rafe said, “Look at me, hey,” Weakly, you did, “I’ve been thinking that you should spend more time with Lana instead of being cooped up in here. At least until I can take care of this … one problem I have. She’d be happy to have some company. And, if you want to learn, she could help you with your reading.”
“You don’t care?”
“Not at all, look, don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweet girl,” He said. Rafe leaned in to peck your nose before he brought your lips together. You melted into him, realizing then how much you missed him when he was gone, “You know what I was thinking?”
You stared back at Rafe, who had a mischievous look in his eye. 
“We should take the boat out.”
“Now? Where?” 
“Just on a short ride to get you some fresh air. It’ll be cold, so let’s find you some warmer clothes, yeah?”
It was a rhetorical question; Rafe was already making his way over to your wardrobe. You looked down at the small silk pajama set you were wearing. You’d seen all the boats out by the dock but hadn’t imagined that Rafe would take you out on one. “Lift your arms,” You did exactly as he said, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over your head. He also chose long pajama bottoms, helping you get into those, too, “You want to bring one of your stuffies?”
Your excitement mixed with your anxiety as you put on your slippers. It was a hard decision to make about which stuffed animal you wanted to bring, but you settled on Fin, your silvery-blue dolphin, “Excellent choice.”
Rafe grabbed your hand, leading you downstairs, “Do you think we’ll see a real dolphin?”
“Well, they tend to be more active during the day, and it’ll be dark soon … but maybe if you wish really, really hard.”
The air was much cooler outside than you expected, and you certainly didn’t expect it to feel so strange being in the fresh air. You turned in a circle just so you could take in the sky, the trees, the house, and everything around you. 
You followed a determined Rafe across the yard and towards the deck. He chose one of the smaller boats, although there was room for at least four more people. You yelped when Rafe grabbed you by your waist suddenly and lifted you inside. Another yelp escaped your lips as the boat rocked under the pressure of your weight, “You’re okay, don’t worry,” He didn’t have to tell you to take a seat or be still; you decided you wouldn’t move at all, “One . . . moment.”
You watched through the corner of your eyes as Rafe untied the roaps keeping the boat tethered to the dock. The boat rocked again as Rafe hopped inside, causing you to grip Fin in one hand and grip the side of the boat in the other. 
You sat in the seat right across from Rafe as the boat slowly pulled off towards deeper water. As the boat became more steady, you turned your head and watched Tannyhill get smaller and smaller. The orange and blue sky reflected off the water, creating an insanely beautiful view. You sailed towards the horizon, the son looking half submerged in the water, “How do you feel?” Rafe yelled over the sound of the motor, “Wanna go faster?”
You nodded, a smile growing on your face, “My little daredevil, huh?” You sat up on your knees, wanting to see more. You get a better look at Figure 8, seeing lots of huge houses along the beach, although none of them compare to Tannyhill. Rafe pointed out different landmarks for you, including the country club and a huge lighthouse out in the water. In your eyes, this night made every other night where you worried about your place with Rafe worth it. 
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“Go ahead, you can give it a taste test,” Lana conceded, allowing you to dip your finger into the chocolate cake batter. A few days after your night out with Rafe, Lana was showing you how to make the perfect chocolate cake. You thought she might be exaggerating about how perfect it was until you were licking your finger. An excited moan left your mouth and you bounced on the balls of your feet, “It’s great, isn’t it? Espresso powder is the key.”
“It really is,” You agreed. 
“Now, wash your hands. It’s time to pour our batter.” 
The entire day Lana had told you exactly what to do and how to do it. You didn’t mind listening or following her directions as she usually spoke to you warmly. Besides that, you wanted to learn exactly how to take care of things around the house, knowing that Rafe would appreciate your help when Lana couldn’t be here. The two of you cleaned the entire downstairs, did several loads of laundry, washed the windows in the glass patio, and even had time for a reading lesson in the early morning. She informed you that she homeschooled her youngest son and that she would try to teach you in a similar way. 
As you washed your hands, you glanced out the side window towards the dock. You could see Rafe far out on the dock, standing with the same business associate who came to the house a few weeks ago. They weren’t alone like you were expecting; someone was on their knees a few feet ahead of them, their head slumped over. You squinted your eyes, trying to see more of them, although Rafe and his business associate shouting at each other blocked your view, “What are they doing out there? Who’s that?” Lana came over to where you were standing, peeking out just like you were. 
Whatever business Rafe was involved in, Lana didn’t seem to care for it, “Mr. Cameron and Barry, they’re always at each other’s throats,” She shook her head, “Come, dry your hands. The oven is heated.”
You did as she said, turning your head away. There were going to be several layers to your cake, meaning you had three pans to fill, and after that, you and Lana would make the icing. Just as your mind wandered back to Rafe, you heard him coming through the kitchen door. 
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing for a moment before his dark eyes landed on you, “Bambi, let’s … uhm, go upstairs,” His voice was shaky and deeper than normal, “Come here.”
“We’re-We’re just about to put the cake in the oven. It’s for tonight, and we’re going to make homemade icing too–”
“Now …please,” He said the last word like it was painful, “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”
No, no, no, a voice repeated in your head. 
“But Lana was going to teach me how to ice the cake, too and she —”
“Fine,” Rafe snapped, his hand slamming against the counter before he rolled his eyes, “Just stay here.” 
As Rafe stomped away, you knew you had something horribly wrong. You’d seen him in a similar mood before but he never directed any of his vitriol towards you before. Whatever had happened on the dock had clearly upset him. You really wanted to finish working with Lana. More than anything, you didn’t want to be locked in your room for another long period of time. 
After taking a breath, or attempting to take one, you turned to Lana, “I didn’t mean… I-I should go say sorry.”
“You might want to let him calm down a little bit, sweetheart,” You’d already made up your mind. You reached behind your neck to undo the top of your apron, “Turn around, let me help you. He’s not mad at you.”
“How do you know?”
“I know who he is,” She spoke simply, “Don’t take anything too personally with Mr. Cameron.”
“You can finish without me; I’m sorry, but thank you for today,” You said as you started to walk away. After you saw her nod, a sad smile on her face, you turned away and sped for the stairs. 
You approached Rafe’s bedroom moments later, hesitantly turning the knob, “Daddy?” You called, peeking inside. You called him again. He wasn’t in the main room but the shower was running in the bathroom, “Rafe?”
You jumped when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorframe, shirtless and his belt undone. This time, you notice his bruised hands and bloody knuckles. 
“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Daddy.”
“Get down on your knees,” He stared you down. When you tried to come closer, he said, “No, drop to your knees right there.”
You felt your knees brush against the bedroom rug, “Crawl to me.” 
If Rafe wanted you to feel even smaller, then his plan was successful. You did as he said, seeing no other option, and crawled towards him. You watched as he palmed himself over his briefs, and you could already feel him stretching you, pulling your hair, and leaving marks on your bottom. This wouldn’t last, you told yourself; he would be gentle with you another time. 
Your sage dress had ridden up your body, exposing your floral patterned white panties. 
“You’re gonna suck my cock and swallow all my cum. And then you’re gonna thank Daddy for letting you.”
You’d do exactly as your Daddy wanted, hoping he’d take your sore throat and tears as a sufficient apology. 
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Once you were soundly asleep in his bed, Rafe slipped out. He had a huge, bloody problem waiting for him in the cabin of his boat. Luckily, JJ Maybank was still the degenerate he used to be, and no one except his Pogue girlfriend would come looking for him anytime, “Son of a bitch isn’t talking,” Barry grunted out, meeting Rafe at the beginning of the dock, “Knocked two of his bottom teeth out and he’s still not motivated.”
Rafe had done everything possible to limit any competition he might face in Kildare. All small-time dealers would be working for someone who worked for Rafe. This was meant to be Rafe’s island yet somehow, Maybank was getting supplies from the mainland and was stealing his customers. 
“We could take his girl.”
Rafe contemplated Barry’s question before shaking his head, “If she comes around trying to find him, we might have no choice. I’m sure that will motivate him.”
Rafe could see Barry’s eyes wandering to Kie. Part of him would love to see JJ squirm if they got their hands on her. You were the reason he didn’t think too long about that. Barry, on the other hand, Rafe would let him do whatever he wanted with Kie. In the end, Rafe wanted JJ to talk, to give up his sources, but he’d be just fine killing him. 
“I hope,” Barry crossed his arms, “Not exactly looking forward to dealing with the body.”
“We don’t have to deal with that shit anymore; I know who to pay to handle it,” Rafe said, “Speaking of, I think I-uh need some more security here. I want guards all around the perimeter. Because of the amount of merchandise and if we’re going to be taking captives, you know. I want this place to be a fortress.”
“Your merchandise, huh?” Barry flashed Rafe a knowing look, “You got any liquor in that big house?”
Rafe gestured his head toward the house, signaling to Barry to follow behind him. 
“If Kie doesn’t come for him and if he still has no information to offer us, we kill him. No more torture, no mess, one gunshot to the temple,” Rafe instructed, his mind racing with what their next moves should be. The more planning beforehand, the better, and the less likely it would come back to them, “That’ll send a message to the rest of the Pogues too. They work for me, or they work for no one.”
“And after you’ve cornered the market?”
“That’s just the start of everything else,” Rafe led Barry through the first floor, towards his office. Ward always used to keep his office stocked with liquor as it came in handy for important meanings. Rafe learned people will often let down their barriers and concede to more under the influence of alcohol. He opened the door for him, allowing him to enter. 
“Whoa,” Barry said, walking inside just as Rafe heard a soft gasp from a familiar voice. Eyebrows raised, Rafe entered behind him to find what had shocked him, “Is this the new Mrs. Cameron?”
With wide eyes, Rafe took you in. You were in the same clothes Rafe left you in, one of his white button-ups and your knee-high socks, “What are you doing down here?” You slowly stepped behind Rafe’s desk, and he could tell you were trying to hide yourself.
“I-I couldn’t find you.”
Rafe’s jaw jutted forward, his arms crossed, as he said, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
Your lips parted to say something, but Barry interrupted, “C’mon, man, it’s not even midnight! Introduce me to your girl. We can all have a drink,” He grabbed ahold of Rafe’s shoulder. You would think Barry had one the lottery based on the look in his eyes. By complete accident, Barry had stumbled on Rafe’s biggest treasure, “I’ll behave, I promise.”
“She doesn’t drink.”
 Rafe was frustrated, mostly because he should’ve been keeping closer track of you. He’d given you that necklace for a reason. A new idea crossed his mind, one he wasn’t expecting, and some of his anxiety eased. He was far from embarrassed of you, he’d chosen you for a reason, but part of Rafe wanted Barry to envy him at that moment. 
Rafe sighed, waving you closer to the two of them, “Bambi, this is Barry. Barry, this is Bambi,” Smoothly, Rafe grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you into him. 
“Hi,” You said shyly, “It’s nice to meet you.” 
 When Barry held his hands out to you, your eyes darted towards Rafe as if to ask permission. Agreement crossed his face, and Rafe watched you shake his hand. Barry was fully taking you in, of course, but Rafe knew a handshake would be the extent of his closeness with you. 
“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful.”
“Chill out, dude. Sit down,” Rafe instructed Barry, pulling you along. 
Barry made himself comfortable on the leather couch and Rafe motioned you to sit across in one of the leather chairs. 
“How you liking Kildare?” 
“It’s really nice,” Rafe heard you respond as he poured two glasses of whiskey for him and Barry, “There’s so many big houses, and … it’s just really pretty.”
“You ain’t seen much then, have you?” Rafe handed Barry his glass, flashing a warning with his eyes, “All the girls where you’re from, they as pretty as you?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” You laughed nervously. 
Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him,  “Why don’t you go get Barry a slice of that chocolate cake you made?” 
Rafe assumed it would ease your nervousness if you could share what you made. “Okay, Daddy,” You smiled at both men, and both men watched you closely as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”
“Pretty and obedient,” Barry whistled, “I need to travel more.”
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A/N: Thank you all so much for your support on the first two chapters BUT psa you will not be added to my taglist if you're not reblogging the fic and letting me know your thoughts! It is crazy to me that people will ask me to tag them in the next chapter when they have neither liked nor reblogged the fic. Constructive feedback is more encouraging than just commenting "PART 4" or "tag me in part 4" :)
PART 4
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spacebarbarianweird · 5 months
Text
Astarion x f!Tav pregnancy headcanons
@treshmind @chillingintheunderdark @azu21 @rachelle-on-the-run
Masterlist
Headcanons
Ok, it turned out to be much longer than I expected. And very angsty
None of you have any idea it was possible to get pregnant
Astarion is a vampire. He definitely "shoots blanks."
The ability to knock someone up was taken away from him along with his life many years ago.
Until one day, you feel weird. Sick, exhausted.
It's not like you pay too much attention to your monthly bleeding (what's the point anyway?"), but you notice it's been a while
And Astarion, after feeding on you, says your blood tastes different. Not bad, not weird. Just different.
And the scent isn't like it was before.
You are terrified you've caught one of these magical sicknesses or curses no one knows how to cure.
You go to the healer, who gives you a herbal drink, saying, "Take this; it's good for the child, and don't bother me until you feel something is off."
And you stay in the healer's hut, shocked, trying to understand what kind of child he is fucking talking about?
Until you realize.
You remember the night half a month ago, when a group of thugs attacked the village where you and Astarion live together.
Astarion returned from the woods drunk with sentient creatures' blood, his eyes glowing red and his skin blazing hot.
He just swept you away from your feet, dragged inside, stripped you of your light armor, and pinned you to the bed until the next sunset.
It was not the first time he was that "blood drunk," - but it was the first time it happened one of the days you could possibly conceive.
It's just a coincidence. The coincidence you carry inside your womb.
You return home, scared and shivering. By the time Astarion notices you are back, you are already crying.
You have no fucking idea how to be a mother. You have no fucking idea how to raise a child. What are you carrying within?
A person? A monstrosity? Your own death?
What creatures are born from vampires?
Astarion is no less shocked.
He pulls away from you, grabbing a fistful of his hair, and swears in Elven.
The healer may be wrong. You can't get pregnant.
And now you feel even more uneasy - what if you were assaulted?Do you have any memory gaps? What if someone used you?
Astarion leaves at sunset, and you stay alone with your fears
He returns in the morning, calm and quiet. Noticing you are still on your feet, he carries you to bed and asks to sleep while he "figures something out."
When you wake up in the late evening, Astarion has a sudden mood change
He is happy. He smiles. He pulls you to himself, placing a hand on your flat belly.
Then you notice a stack of books.
Dhampirs. Children of mortals and vampires. With insanely long lifespans, immunity for vampirism, and living beating hearts.
"You see. That's what we are going to have".
You slowly start adapting to your new condition,
The child grows fast, and your body changes. Breasts get a bit bigger, and you can't wear your light armor anymore (it is suddenly too small). You are constantly tired and hungry.
Even the most innocent teases from Astarion make you cry - and he panics every time it happens.
He has no idea how to handle a pregnant woman.
You quarrel. Constantly. Because you are both scared to death.
What is worse, Astarion has a serious regress. There are nightmares and self-harm tendencies. He runs away to the woods or the Underdark tunnels at least once a week, and you lash at him for leaving you alone every time he gets back.
Besides, it's his fault he didn't stop drinking blood that night
You have nightmares, too.
You envision a monster growing within you that will gnaw through your flesh any time soon.
And yes, women die in childbirth. Even if before that, they'd challenged the fucking gods!
One day, Astarion puts his head on your belly
He caresses it and whispers something in Elven.
"I hear the heartbeat," he says, eyes teary. "I hear our child's heartbeat!"
From that moment, everything changes,
He no longer goes away. He helps you bathe and dress. Brings everything you ask for and ensure you are comfortable sitting and walking. He prepares the place for the child (ignoring a very rational fear that either you or the child dies)
And he sews. He makes the set of clothes for the newborn, embroidering it with protective Elven runes.
Sometimes you both relax enough to discuss the future.
The day of birth comes much earlier than you expect. Almost a month earlier.
The midwife, perfectly knowing the father's nature, pushed Astarion out of the room.
And he spends a few hours helpless and desperate, hearing your cries of pain. If it was the night, he could at least go outside, but, as it happens, it's a sunny day.
He hates himself for doing this to you.
And as for you, you had no idea it could be so painful.
Finally, Astarion has enough and returns to you, kneeling beside the bed
The moment you see him, you grasp his hand as if you are drowning
And then it's all over.
A squeal, desperate and angry, rings out through the room, and you see a newborn in the midwife's hands.
A tiny girl with long pointy ears is placed in your hands. Not a monster. She isn't deformed. Just a baby. Who is very angry with the fact she's been pushed out from the warm womb to this cruel and unpredictable world.
Astarion can't believe what exactly he sees.
He has a child. He has a daughter. The most normal thing anyone can think of is now a reality for him, someone who once had to get out of his own grave.
Then you give the newborn girl to Astarion, and the moment he takes her, he bursts into tears, pressing the child against his chest.
The girl doesn't cry anymore, piercing Astarion with her dark eyes.
You, still tired and in pain, drink the healing potion left by the midwife and you look up at Astarion.
He notices your gaze and kisses you.
"My love, thank you. This is a gift", he whispers through the tears.
--
Tag list:
@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria
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aceyanaheim · 2 years
Text
I don’t really like how they did Gordon’s character in tmdgc but I also wouldn’t say his character went back to D1 Gordon tbh
Like D1!Gordon was a winning-obsessed asshole who said “kids are barely human” and very much hated coaching out of disdain and his ( somewhat valid) bad memory associations with Hockey.
That’s not who tmdgc!Gordon is. He never says anything like “kid aren’t human” ( he says he doesn’t like kids and hates hockey but like that’s...it?? iirc?) The very first thing he does is tell Evan he should give his mom a break and hints to Alex to steal from the Hawk!Ducks ala ( im not helping you but I am) by episode 2 he’s helping Nick with his crush on the cocoa girl. By episode one he’s cheering for Alex to skate ( because she  talked about liking it and maybe he remembers what enjoying a hobbie was like) He’s not obssesed with winning or with his past or showing people up ( “always go for the W” “I haven’t lost a single case!” ) with anything he just mostly wants to sleep and be left alone.
This just isn’t who D1 Gordon ( pre Charlieand Hans putting him in his place) ( or even D2! Gordon) is.
He’s changed from D3!Gordon yes ( because losing your job the closest thing you have as family and having the one thing that let your reclaim joy for the thing you love taken from you ...does that.) but he’s Also different from D1! and D2!Gordon. The changes that happened in those two movies I might even say are stil there it’s just there are now Also changes from  what happened between D3 and Game Changers.
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luveline · 4 months
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Hi love, i would love to see more of spencer x stripper!reader. Hope u are doing good <3
hi thank u, u too! ♡ fem
You press the heel of your palm to the shower tiles, head hanging and hair soaked to the scalp. Rivulets of hot water and soap suds slick their way down your front. 
“You okay?” 
Spencer's voice through the door, a better warmth than any luxurious shower. “Sorry, I'm getting out!” 
“No! No, stay in there if you want, I'm just wondering.” 
You force yourself out of the shower and into a towel. “I'm getting out.” 
“I have some clothes for you,” he says, “I can leave them by the door.” 
You wrap the towel tightly around your chest and step to the door. Spencer's startled face is on the other side, smiling nervously, a bundle of clothes held to his chest. 
“They're my friends. My coworker. Penelope? I asked her first and she said she doesn't mind at all. They might not fit, but…” 
“Thank you. You and Penelope.” You hold out one hand. Spencer passes you the clothes through the cracks of the door and you shut it, maybe unnecessarily. 
Spencer's seen you in various states of undress, but it isn't privacy that's worrying you tonight. You can't help looking over your shoulder, wondering if someone's watching you for a split second of madness. 
You pull on your borrowed pyjamas. A little Japanese cat winks up at you from the pants, the shirt a baseball tee with pink sleeves and a white body. Cute, you think. Penelope must be fun. 
Spencer's in the kitchen making two mugs of tea when you emerge. It's the herbal flavour you favour, steam billowing from the rims like clouds in the cold air. Your long walk in the rain is nearly forgotten by your skin if not your pittering pulse. 
“You okay?” 
“I'm fine.” 
“You sure?” He doesn't give you time to answer, carefully placing the two mugs on the coffee table, before tapping a gentle hand to your shoulder. “You wanna sit down?” 
“I'm really fine, handsome, it's … it's not the first time someone's followed me home.” You smile falsely. 
“That's not okay.” 
“I know.” You point at your cup of tea. “Can I?” 
“Of course you can,” he says, sitting beside you on the couch, leaving a more than chivalrous gap between you.
It's not a gap you want nor need, and after a few sips you've warmed enough to sidle closer to him, in touching distance, and then touching. Thigh to thigh, you watch the tops of his cheeks turn a pretty, blurry pink. “I was scared,” —your knuckles touch briefly to his knee— “but nothing happened. So don't worry about me, Dr. Reid, please.” You layer your voice with a sweetness that comes with seduction, a playfulness to mete his sudden regression into timidity. 
“I worry about you all the time.” He smiles, at least, so it isn't a burden. 
“I worry about you, too.” 
“I know you can take care of yourself, I just can't help thinking about the statistics. I know exactly how likely it is that something bad could happen to you, and it's not that you should worry, I don't want you to be scared, but– it's like, it plays on repeat in my head. It's– I'm not trying to–” 
“Hey, handsome,” you murmur, giving his leg a shy squeeze. “I know. It's dangerous and it's unlikely at the same time. And it feels silly talking about it.” 
“But silly not to,” he adds. 
“Yeah. I know, Spencer, I swear.” 
“I know you know,” he murmurs through a smile. 
“I know you know I know,” you joke back, smiling back sunnily. It doesn't take much of him to cheer you up. Ever since the day you met, he's been like a balm for your rampant aching, a brown-eyed, pretty-handed sweetheart. Whether it's sharing a seat on the train, or meeting up for dinner at the Indian restaurant behind his apartment, or just calling each other on the phone, he knows what to say to fix things. You forget your life, and you get to be with him instead. 
Spencer puts his mug of tea down to hug you. You'd known he was going to. It always happens like this, the two of you together, drinking tea and showing each other just the smallest fraction of each other's hearts. He presses his nose to your cheek as his hands run down the length of your back, and all you can think about is how he knows nearly everything about you and he holds you voluntarily.  
“Love you, Spence,” you mumble into his shoulder. 
“I love you too. I'm here for you, okay? I don't care how scared I am, I love being your friend.” 
You try not to sigh. Friend isn't necessarily what you want to be, but he'd let you in when you buzzed without asking why you were dropping by, and he'd held your gaze as you explained the man who'd been following you, your dead phone, your superglued shoes fallen apart in the typhoon. Spencer's everything a person could ever need. Dependable, vulnerable, sweet, kind, patient. He's pretty in every facet of the word. 
“Is it really that scary?” 
“Thinking about guys following you home?” he asks, rubbing your back gently. “It's terrifying. Weren't you terrified?” 
You blink back the sudden heat of emotion behind your eyes. “Um,” you say, higher than you mean, “uh, it wasn't–” You shrug, but your hands feel shaky and strange. 
Spencer's voice softens, “Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry.” 
You try not to think about what might've happened. When you realised there was someone following you, you didn't think, oh, he'll hurt me, you thought, I need to be faster. I need to get somewhere they can't. 
You needed safety and Spencer was the first, safest place. 
“I'm sorry for coming here.” 
Spencer pushed you away from him without malice, his hands on your arms. Alarm rings his eyes, eyebrows rising, “What? Why would you say that?” 
Because you didn't sign up for this. Because I'm me, and you're you, and you didn't have a choice, you were too good to let me be without you. 
Because, if you think about it, Spencer is more than safety to you. 
He doesn't baulk at your silence. “Hey,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing into the soft skin inside your elbow sweetly, “you like it here, don't you?” You nod. “Then– then who cares why you're here?” 
Spencer pulls you into his arms again. “You'll feel better in the morning… I'm gonna get you a new phone.” 
“What? Why?” 
“Cos that one's always dead. You need to be able to call me when you need me.” 
You smile into his shoulder. “You're not buying me a phone.” 
“Watch me.” 
You don't cry in his arms, but it's a weirdly close call. 
797 notes · View notes
purple-babygirl · 30 days
Text
don't call me daddy V
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader
Word count: 4,660
Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.
Warnings: crying, age regression, fluff, a little angst
A/N: i would like to give credits for this part and its idea to🦊nonnie because without her ask there might've not been a fifth part to this story. Having said that, i'm thinking this should be the last part of the story because i am out of scenario your girl is empty. but anyway, please enjoy this one and have a tight hug xx💜💜
~
When they arrived back at her house, she was asleep in the passenger's seat.
Bucky didn’t want to wake her up. He knew she barely got any sleep last night because of the mean cough she was suffering from and so he carefully carried her inside without a word.
His heart kept speeding up every time he would remember what she called him after taking her shot as he slipped her feet out of her shoes and socks and tucked her in her bed.
He frankly had no idea what he would do if she was to wake up little and if he was ready to be a good daddy to her. What if he messed up again? He seemed to be a pro at that.
Luckily, when she woke up later that night, she was her big self again and didn’t seem to have any recollection of calling Bucky daddy, or if she did, she didn’t mention it.
Bucky gave her her cough syrup and the rest of the meds, helping her go back to sleep as he presumed his place on the floor by her bed.
In a way he couldn’t explain, even her coughs were more comfort than the silence at his house, and definitely more comfort than his nightmares.
It was 12 days of little sleep, a lot of crying, meds, movies and sleepovers until she was fully cured again, and even though Bucky hated that she was sick, those seemed to have been some of the best days he’s ever gotten to live since he’s come back to himself.
He got to laugh with someone, care for someone, comfort someone and enjoy the company of someone. And not just anyone; it was her.
But something was missing still.
Bucky wanted her to call him daddy. More than anything and from the bottom of his heart, he wanted to deserve that name, that role.
What Bucky had noticed in the days he’d stayed at her place was that she had no family pictures at all.
She had framed pictures of friends, of herself, of Corgi, but none of family members.
It didn’t come as a surprise because she’d mentioned it to him before, and he just knew that if he wanted to be her caregiver, her daddy, Bucky had to prove to her that he was nothing like those who’d hurt her. He had to prove himself worthy of taking care of her; set himself apart from them.
And to do that, he had to know more.
“I see no family pictures anywhere,” Bucky spoke as he helped her plant the new tulips she had in place.
“Yeah, we’re not close.” She shrugged, hand stuttering just the tiniest bit in their movements.
“Can I ask why?”
She sighed, “why?”
“I’m trying to learn from the mistakes of others.”
She laughed, “really?”
“Really.”
Oh, this wasn’t a joke?
“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, right?” She couldn’t understand why he would want to try again when the report was handed and he was let off the hook.
“I want to. I really want to.” Bucky wished his gloved hands weren’t muddy as they were so he could touch her face.
He found himself craving physical contact around her more often than not.
“You finally believe in the power of the program?” She teased, keeping her focus on the flowers she was rooting.
“No, I couldn’t care less about the institution and its programs.”
“Not even Mrs. Morrison?” She joked again.
“I’m serious, doll.”
“Why then?” She dropped the bulbs, deciding to face Bucky.
“I want it because it’s you I’ll be daddy to.”
“They never loved me for who I was.” She answered his previous question and Bucky felt a pang at his chest.
He had made her feel the same way.
He remained silent, not wanting to interrupt her in fear that she might stop.
“I always had to be a certain way, say certain things, act a certain way. Do what we say and then we’ll see if we can love you.”
Bucky might’ve been speechless, but his eyes spoke a million words, begging hers for forgiveness for his ignorant mistakes.
“That’s why it hurt so much when you showed me you didn’t accept the little version of me.”
“I’m so sorry-”
She shook her head, stopping him.
“I’ve been rejected for too long, Bucky, too many times. It took me a good while to finally believe that I was worth loving despite my quirks, ugly parts and possible mistakes. Took too long to teach myself that it didn’t matter if I cried all the time, was too clingy or too talkative; I was still lovable.” She pointed to her chest as she finished her words.
Bucky took his gloves off, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop himself anymore. He had no words, only anger and remorse raging inside his chest.
“It takes you a while to unlearn stuff you’ve been taught your whole life by the people who were supposed to love you the most.” She whispered into his shirt.
“Doll, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered back.
“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, “I appreciate you, Bucky, I really do, but I don’t think I’m ready to lose everything I’ve built inside me if you decide in the middle of it that you weren’t fully ready to take on such a responsibility. I forgive you. I promise. But I don’t trust you enough to give up full control of myself and my life to you again. I’m sorry.” She pulled away from the hug, giving Bucky the option to walk away.
“Don’t be. I understand.” He remained in place.
“Are you gonna disappear now?” She wondered with a sad smile.
“No, you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” Bucky returned the smile, putting his gloves back on.
She smiled gratefully, “I don’t wanna lose you either. You’re such a great friend. And I owe you forever for taking care of me those past few days.”
“What if I prove myself to you though?” Bucky asked, dipping a tulip bulb in the soil.
“What?” She tilted her head in confusion.
“What if I show you how serious I am about this and prove myself worthy of you?”
“Bucky, you don’t have to do that. I know you have a life, responsibilities-”
“I want to do it. There’s nothing more important to me right now than this. And you.”
“If you’re doing this just because you can’t accept that you failed the program-”
“I swear on my ma’s soul, I want to do this. Because of you, doll. For you and with you.”
The words died on her tongue as she watched his sincere eyes implore hers.
“Would you give me a chance to prove myself to you? Please?”
“Okay, Bucky.” She swallowed, “one chance.”
“That’s all I need.” Bucky smiled.
She was not sick anymore and he didn’t have a reason to stick around. He also didn’t want to push her on the matter of regressing, so, respectful of her boundaries, he left.
~
After their conversation in the garden, Bucky had to go home.
His heart was heavy when he entered his empty apartment to nothing and no one. Being alone in here wasn’t something he enjoyed anymore.
It has been 2 days of intense research that Bucky has conducted on age regression and partners in little space when she texted him that night.
“Mr. Barnes, can you please come over?”
He wasn’t particularly happy about the fact that he was Mr. Barnes again, but he certainly was happy that she thought to text him when little. This was an improvement and it counted to Bucky.
“Will be right there, doll.” He texted back, running to his motorcycle.
~
Bucky took in a deep breath before knocking at her door, ready to prove himself a suitable daddy.
She opened with teary eyes, making Bucky’s heart sink.
“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked as he stepped inside.
“I can’t open the pickle jar and now my hands hurt,” she cried, showing him the insides of her palms and how red they were from trying so hard to twist the cap on the glass jar.
She was indeed a little worried that Bucky might find this stupid, that he might yell at her or get upset because she was crying over something minimal in his eyes.
But that wasn’t the case at all. The man was just thankful that she was alright.
“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed in relief, glad that she wasn’t actually hurt.
Until he remembered that this was a big deal to her. Her hands hurt and she was frustrated because the cap wouldn’t budge.
Moments like these definitely required a daddy.
“I thought Mr. Barnes could help,” she sniffled, her hand wiping under her nose, “metal arm.” She touched his gloved hand.
Bucky chuckled, taking the pickle jar out of her hand, “what if I can do it without the metal arm? What would you give me in return?”
“The biggest pickle?” She offered, wiping her tears away from her eyes, her crying stopping at once.
Bucky laughed at her innocence, “no, I want something else, doll.”
She tilted her head expectantly.
What could Mr. Barnes possibly want? Did he want the whole jar? Would he at least leave her one pickle? She was craving pickles-
“I want you to start calling me Bucky again. No more Mr. Barnes. Can you do that for me, doll?”
Oh, that was something she could do.
“Only if you can open the jar with your not metal hand,” she challenged, her little mind amazed by the idea because look at her hand! It had red marks all over when she tried opening that jar.
“You got it,” Bucky said, easily twisting the cap on the jar open, making her mouth open with it.
“Woah,” she whispered as Bucky handed her the jar with a laugh.
“You’re welcome, doll.” He smiled, watching her chew on a crunchy pickle.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She smiled back, offering him a big pickle.
Bucky’s nerves tingled, knowing he was one step closer to her and his desired title.
~
Moving forward, Bucky learned to distinguish between her big self and little self through texts.
Her little self would always talk about him and herself in third person.
Plus, her big self always needed help with bigger things like needing Bucky to fix her sink or look at her car, knowing he might burn down the city if she went back to asking Adam for help with those things.
Her little self, on the other hand, would need help with the lighter things, the sweeter things. She would call asking for help with Corgi, something too high on a shelf or even just wanting Bucky’s company.
Tonight was one of those nights.
It was thundering more than usual and Bucky had wanted to go and be with her, but he didn’t want to invade her privacy.
But then she called and her scared voice saying his name had Bucky moving even before she uttered the words.
He was proud that she now knew that he was just only one call away; that he would come running whenever she needed. She could finally count on him to be there for her and he couldn’t be more contented.
He knew that consistency was important in relationships, especially one where she was little.
“Hey, doll, it’s okay. It’s just a little thunder,” Bucky cooed, rubbing her back as she let him inside.
“I’m not scared anymore now that Bucky is here.” She smiled, her breathing visibly slowing down.
“Well, I’m staying the night so you have nothing to worry about,” he chuckled, following her to the bedroom.
“Bucky covered his motorcycle?” she asked, worried his vehicle would get ruined.
“Leave that for now, we’ll hose it down together tomorrow when it’s sunny.”
“Corgi loves the hose,” she spoke out the first thought that came to her mind and Bucky loved it, laughing heartily at her comment.
The dog’s ears perked at the sound of his name, jumping at Bucky’s feet as soon as he entered the bedroom, waiting for his share of pets.
He bent down to give the dog some love when he heard her sigh.
“Corgi loves Bucky too.” She smiled shyly, internally wishing her name was Corgi.
“Bucky loves Corgi right back,” Bucky whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
She only smiled bigger, running to her bed and getting under the covers.
When Bucky got down to sleep on the floor that night, however, she slipped off her bed and right next to him.
“Doll, the floor is too cold for you. Sleep on your bed, come on.” Bucky sat up, wanting to help her up on the bed again but she wouldn’t move.
“Wanna be next to Bucky,” she said with a pout.
“But-”
“I know Bucky can’t sleep on beds. It’s okay. Doll will sleep here,” she told him, squeezing Wolfie in her arms.
Bucky’s heart fluttered and it made his mind light up with an idea only a true daddy would have.
“Do you wanna build a fort?” He suggested and her face instantly beamed with a smile as she nodded.
Of course she did!
That night as Bucky gathered all of her soft blankets to make her a floor mattress inside a fort full of fluffy pillows, he knew he was smitten.
This girl had him head over heels for her and there was nothing in the world that he wouldn’t do just to see her smile.
“Can Bucky please tell me a story?”
“Sure, doll. Do you have any books I can read to you from?”
“I have books that big me likes but I don’t want those.”
“What would you like then?”
“I want a story that is Bucky’s. Tell me a story you didn’t tell anyone at the institution.”
Oh, she was jealous. The thought made Bucky smile as he pulled the covers up to her neck to make sure she was warm down on the floor.
“Okay, you ready?” Bucky asked, dimming the lights in her room.
She made herself comfortable under the covers, big eyes watching Bucky’s handsome grin as the cozy atmosphere he’s created comforted her through the storm, “ready.”
“Once upon a time, there was a small idiot who picked up fights with boys much bigger than himself. His name was Steve…”
Bucky fell asleep with his hand stroking her hair, watching her soft breaths leave her chest that night without abruptly waking up in the middle of it for the first time in forever.
~
Bucky didn’t know what it was like to be her, but he was going to do his best to put himself in her shoes like she’d previously tried.
She deserved to be fully and entirely understood.
He witnessed a glimpse of her feelings towards the concept of family a couple of times when they would watch movies like The Lion King or Lilo and Stitch.
She didn’t seem to be affected by the death of Mufasa even though he knew her to be a very sensitive little. She was sad for Simba, of course, but not for Mufasa’s demise. Similarly with Lilo and Stitch, she didn’t care much about the concept of the family.
There was an actual barrier separating her from experiencing any positive feelings that came with the idea of family. Because she had none to associate with hers.
With some more research, Bucky managed to find a few animated movies that didn’t seem to revolve around the idea of family love and how family was everything and whatnot.
One of those movies was The Willoughbys. The movie depicted how neglecting some parents can be and that 2 people loving each other and getting married didn’t necessarily mean they would love their children too.
It was a very unique movie and Bucky was actually happy they could make such movies nowadays.
When the song I Choose You started playing in the movie, Bucky felt her small hand squeezing into a fist.
He silently wrapped his hand around hers, offering quiet comfort and support.
“Bucky chooses you, doll. Wholeheartedly.” Bucky reassured, bringing her knuckles to his lips.
He looked down to see tears in her innocent eyes as she showed her feelings for the first time during one of their movie nights.
“Bucky chooses me?” she croaked, lip trembling as she cried.
“I choose Bucky, too.” She pulled him down by one cheek to leave a kiss on the other.
Bucky froze.
It was the first time she’s kissed him since he applied that cream on her burnt hand back at his house. She did it on her own, too.
“And I choose Corgi,” she said, running her fingers through the hair of the puppy sleeping soundly on her lap.
“That’s right, and Corgi chooses you. Family doesn’t have to be the ones you were born with, doll,” Bucky told her as he wiped her tears away, “you can choose the family you want for yourself”.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him tight, afraid he might not be real and that this moment is all made up.
“You’re welcome, doll.” Bucky kissed the side of her head as they pulled away.
“Can I choose Adam, too?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper as she gauged Bucky’s reaction.
She could actually hear his chest rumble with a low “argh” before he nodded despite himself, making her giggle.
“Don’t worry. I only have one Bucky.” She reassured, slinging her arm around Bucky’s metal one.
One daddy, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. She was still scared.
~
Bucky knew that she needed her own independent time alone sometimes even when little, and he would allow her just that, texting throughout the day just to make sure she was okay, reminding her to drink water and take care of herself.
But there was one particularly hard weekend when she felt real down about some of her plants dying as the storm took them out of the ground.
When she opened the door she was clearly disheveled, hair all messy and looking like it hadn’t been brushed all week.
“Hey, doll,” Bucky spoke gently as he closed the door behind him.
She quickly ran into his arms, needing the comfort more than anything, “my plants are dead and Corgi peed on my new carpet and my hair doesn’t smell like shampoo anymore and I’m-”
Damn. She was spiraling. She just slipped out of his hug and on the floor. Oh no.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here now and I got you, okay?” Bucky tried his best to reassure her, getting on his knees before her to look into her eyes.
“Okay,” she hiccupped, nodding even though she wasn’t fully convinced.
“What happened to the plants?” Bucky wanted to handle her concerns one at a time.
“My apple trees were pulled out of place because of the storm,” she started sobbing again as she remembered what had happened to her hard word.
“Okay, okay, tell you what, I’ll put them back in place, okay?”
“Really?” She sniffed.
“Really.” Bucky smiled kindly.
“Okay.” She nodded, trying to control her breathing.
“And we’ll throw the new carpet in the washing machine, and keep Corgi in his playpen with pee pads,” Bucky gave her the steps of how the day was going to go, leading her by the hand to where Corgi was.
“Okay.” She nodded again, her tears ceasing.
“And while the carpet is being washed, I’ll help you wash your hair. Does that sound okay?” Bucky asked her permission, wanting to make sure she was completely comfortable.
“Yes.” She was finally smiling again as well.
“Okay, let’s get you in here,” Bucky told the puppy before placing him inside his playpen.
He spread a few sheets on which the dog could pee if needed before collecting the affected mat.
“Let’s take this to the washing machine,” Bucky voiced his movements, wanting to put her at ease as he kept her hand in his and walked with her to the bathroom.
“In you go.” Bucky threw the rug inside the washing machine along with some detergent.
“Now what do we do?” He asked her, wanting to keep her out of her head.
“Wash doll’s hair?” She asked with half a smile.
“That’s right, get in there.” Bucky tilted his head towards the bathtub with a smile.
~
And for some reason, it was different this time. He didn’t feel all weird seeing her naked. Maybe it was because he knew her better this time and was familiar with her in more ways than one that such intimacy didn’t startle him.
He wasn’t sure, but Bucky wasn’t complaining, only grateful as she closed her sweet eyes and trusted him to wash her hair for her.
“Alright, show me how it’s done,” Bucky encouraged, instructing her to whip her hair to the front so he could wrap the towel around it.
She did as told with a giggle, dangling her hair before her and letting Bucky wrap it up the best he could.
“Off to the couch.” Bucky chuckled as he watched her skip in her cashmere bathrobe to her couch.
Later after Bucky has brushed her hair for her, he helped her get dressed and they went outside together to replant the fallen apple saplings the wind had knocked down just like he'd promised.
The smile on her face was new and unmatched as she watched Bucky handle her plants with care.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him close, hardly wanting to let go as they stood in the middle of her garden.
Bucky was now rooted in her heart just like the plants in her garden were in their soil.
She didn’t think she could be away from him anymore. She didn’t want to be away from him anymore.
“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she whispered timidly as they started walking back to the house.
“What do you want on your piz- what did you say?” Bucky stopped in his tracks.
“I’m hungry.” She bit her lip and looked away quickly, hesitant now that his eyes were on her.
“Before that, doll.” Bucky brought her eyes back to his by her chin.
“D-daddy?”
Bucky smiled a smile that reached his eyes as they lit up with gratitude. He couldn’t believe he was finally hearing that word.
“Daddy’s thinking pizza, doll. Sound okay?”
Her face glowed up with her own smile as she witnessed Bucky, with full commitment, refer to himself as daddy.
She nodded, knowing this was going to be the most delicious pizza she was ever going to eat.
~
“What is daddy thinking?” She asked when she noticed his eyes on her, slipping a loose strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.
“Just thinking about all the things you make me feel, doll.” He smiled, turning his face to kiss her hand before it left his face.
Her face started heating up as she retracted her hand, tingles spreading all over her, “things like what?”
“You make me feel like there’s still good in this world. Like I’m worth patience and kindness and maybe even… love,” Bucky voiced his feelings, eyes dreamy as they watched her pretend to be focused on organizing her stuffies’ seats on the floor.
“You are, daddy,” she replied sincerely, hurting inside that Bucky might doubt this even a little.
“I can’t believe I was so horrible to you, doll.” Bucky’s sigh came out hot from his chest, holding so much regret.
“That’s in the past, daddy. Doll doesn’t think about it no more.” She smiled, her littler hand covering his own lovingly before giving a soothing squeeze.
“You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” Bucky held her hand up and gave the back of it a noisy kiss.
She laughed, face heating up more at the sweet attention, “no body’s perfect, remember?”
Bucky tried to continue laughing with her but he was still kicking himself for what he did to her during her visit to his house.
“How did you even tolerate me back then, doll? I was the worst.” Bucky covered his face with his hands as he threw his head back, laying on his back on the floor full of shame.
“That’s not true. You just misunderstood me and that happens!” She was quick to defend him, refusing the idea that he would even criticize himself, “daddy is the best.”
“I know, but it still gave me no right to treat you the way I did.” Bucky’s eyes teared up at the memories of his very mean words and actions, “I made you cry a lot.” He struggled to forgive himself for that one.
“Daddy, I forgave you, I swear,” she promised, her hands cradling his full cheeks.
She felt like her heart might stop from sadness if Bucky was to cry right now.
“I’m really sorry. I’m really really sorry, doll.” Bucky’s eyes were sincere, holding so much emotion in them that she felt her own begin to fill up with tears.
“Daddy, you don’t need to apologize no more,” she whispered, doing her best to hold back tears.
“You have made me the luckiest man on earth by accepting me as your caregiver, your daddy, and you’ve taught me so much, doll.” Bucky actually started crying, a lot of held-inside feelings coming out at once.
“Daddy.” Her thumb wiped under his eyes gently as she felt her own tears roll down, “don’t say stuff like that”.
“But I need to. Because you did. You taught me unconditional love and acceptance. You taught me what it means to live again. Doll, your patience with my terribleness has taught me that maybe I’m not a hopeless case after all, and that this shell of a man with a metal arm might be capable of things he thought have been wiped from his memory long ago.”
“Daddy, please stop crying,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his chin as her attempts at wiping his tears away have proven to be futile.
“I love you so much, doll. I love you with every old bit of me and if you’ll have me…”
“Daddy?” she raised her head, eyes on Bucky’s face, trying to read his expression.
Could Bucky really be asking what she thought he was asking?
“Doll, I want you to be my baby for more than just a few days. Would you give me that honor? Would you let me be your daddy for real?”
“Daddy, are you sure?” she nervously bit her lip.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything before.” Bucky promised.
She nodded frantically, afraid the offer might disappear if she took too long to respond, “yes.”
“Thank you, doll.” Bucky breathed as he pulled her to him, strong arms engulfing her in a protective hug.
“Daddy will not regret it later?” her eyes watched him, a small hint of doubt still tainting her trust.
“Do you like the moon, doll?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head, not understanding the relation between her question and Bucky’s answer.
“You know how our sky only has one moon?”
She nodded.
“My heart is just like that. It can only have one doll no matter how much time passes.”
“Oh.” She sniffled, trying to hold the tears in.
“I love you, doll.” Bucky gave her hair a long kiss.
“I love you, daddy.” She kissed his chest, her arms tightening their hold around him as best as she could, never wanting to be away from him again.
And she wasn’t going to be. Bucky was an idiot who let her go once; never again was he going to make that mistake.
He was blessed with her now and he was going to spend every day of his life proving he was worthy of this blessing.
~
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babywriter · 2 months
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“So, you’re an ABDL. Ok. That’s why I’m here. You’re telling me you want a mommy and a daddy to take care of you, that whole thing. Fine. I’ll grant you your wish. No, there’s no twisting your words, you won’t be an actual baby, so you will be able to enjoy this. No, your mommy and daddy won’t be your actual parents, yes they’ll be about your age, well maybe a little older and they will be attractive, don’t worry. Yes, I’m aware you want them to be sexy young things themselves, you pervert. They’ll find you cute, obviously. They’ll be thrilled to have you as their baby for as long as you please. You won’t need a job, though you can get one if you want. You’ll be free to be an adult as much or as little as you want. Now, tell me this doesn’t sound like a sweet deal? Yeah, I figured you’d like it.
So here’s the price. Nothing unexpected, nothing crazy, just a simple logical follow through of your wish getting fulfilled. Diapers? Yeah, those are going to be mandatory. You’ll be a bedwetter and you will have accidents during the day, that’s par for the course. And you’ll never change yourself ever again. Those could be good things, bad things… that’s for you to judge. You’ll become desperately addicted to your blankets, stuffies, whatever your comfort item may be. You’ll need it everywhere like a two-year-old, be prepared for that. You will go back to either the bottle or the breast and you will get addicted to that as well. Only a pacifier will be able to soothe you in between. You will also be able to cry like a baby, which means the emotional control of a baby. You’ll need naps and you’ll throw tamper tantrums in spite of your better judgement. Most importantly, and I assume this is the only thing that might actually dissuade you, it will be revealed to the world that you are an ABDL. You won’t be able to hide it. You can try, but your caregivers won’t. You’ll get baby talked and your diaper will be checked. It’s inevitable. Then, again, if you want as an add-on, I can make you a carefree and mentally regressed adult. You’ll still be out to the world, but at least you won’t care.
Do you want to go through with this deal?”
Photo credit: @babybelle1
For more stories by me: https://reamstories.com/babywriter
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admirxation · 3 days
Text
Actress / Leon Kennedy oneshot
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boyfriends dad!Leon Kennedy x afab!reader
summary: your boyfriend has brought you home to meet his father, but it turns to a non conventional meeting when your boyfriend goes to sleep.
cw: this fic contains cheating, I do not condone everything I write; this is just fiction where real people cannot get hurt, please read the warnings and continue at your own discretion // 18+ heavy smut (mdni), cheating, kissing, touching, tit grabbing, grinding, fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, degrading, unprotected sex (p in v), and creampie.
word count: 2.8k
thank you @valslullaby for this idea, my fellow older man lover, please check their fics as well they’re so good
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When you told people you were going to college, the description and the idea of college tended to be romanticised, further enticing you to the whole ‘college experience.’ These conversations usually involved older people looking back on those former years through rose-tinted glasses and appreciating the simpler times, wanting to regress to that time when troubles weren’t as hard, where your biggest stress was getting an assignment in last minute compared to getting the rent due and food on the table for you and the whole family. The conversation tended to have them blissfully remembering how much they could drink and how they could handle the hangovers back then, remembering how easy it was to make friends in the same class as you and all they could do now was focus on a good credit score and getting on the property ladder.
But the conversation of college didn’t just come with remembering the good times; it came with some advice, some embarrassing advice you didn’t want to hear about—the sex talk. When you accepted your dream college's offer, the “be safe” talk was constantly repeated; you remembered how you wanted time to quicken and have the conversation end every time it started. You understood that they just wanted to keep you safe; after all, you would rather them tell you what to avoid than just outright forbid and have you get into some serious trouble—but who in their right mind wants to want to discuss their sex life with their parents?
The conversation consisted of the basics you already knew: you can say no anytime (obviously), make sure he uses a condom, watch how much you drink and who you’re going home with, the usual safety many people knew and practised. However, while you remembered it all in exact order to recite, you never thought you needed to use it when you entered the dorms since you didn’t have much luck when it came to your love life. That was until you met him—your current boyfriend.
You two were in the same class, him sitting next to you; it started with him acting stupid and you sharing your notes, compliments on how smart you are, later going to the same afterschool study sessions, then getting closer with every day that went past. At first, you didn’t think too much of it, thinking this would be a casual relationship that would end in the first semester, but then you started seeing each other more frequently; he was even buying you countless gifts that made you wonder what in the hell he was doing to afford it all. Then it turned to him meeting your parents; you tried not to admit it to yourself, but you wished that they wouldn’t like him, hoping to use it as an excuse to end things, but alas, they loved and approved of him, commending you for your “great taste” in picking a partner. You just smiled and hugged him that night as he gushed about his excitement about what they thought, but all you could think when nestled on his chest was: I’m forever stuck.
He was lovely and a nice enough guy, but something about him was off, maybe a touch of immaturity, not having much in common or just an outright lack of interest. Continuing your cowardly streak, you agreed to meet his father, wishing things would pick up after his first meeting.
The days rushed by when it came to driving back to his place, and you received constant text messages from your parents reminding you to be polite and make a good impression. A part of you was thinking about pretending to be rude and unlikeable, but you couldn’t bear someone thinking of you like this, especially an adult, after being raised to respect your elders, like most people.
You were quiet for the whole car ride, not sharing a single word, hoping he would perhaps disapprove of you—a girl could wish to get the easy way out.
As you two approached the front door, you heard heavy footsteps come closer and the clicking sound of a door unlocking. Later, you were in Mr. Kennedy’s gaze. You gave him a warm smile, watching his eyes widen as he quickly looked you up and down.
“Ah, it’s lovely to finally meet the mystery girl my son can’t shut up about,” he said, seeing your boyfriend roll his eyes in embarrassment as he entered his house. “Come in, come in.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kennedy,” you showed him respect.
“Oh, no need for formalities, just call me Leon… Mr. Kennedy makes me sound so old; I don’t need the reminder of how the years have slipped by,” you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at his words; you never imagined his father to be like this, the way he described him didn’t fit the current person you were greeted with. Your boyfriend described how much he looked up to him, how he was his whole world and that he would trust his instincts; if he disliked something, he would dislike it; if he loved something, he would try his best to find a love for it. At first, you found it ridiculous how much he needed Daddy’s approval; you even told him he ought to just make his own thoughts. But standing there in his presence, you could understand; he had a gentle and subtle touch of influence in his stance, but also an overwhelming quality about him that made you want to follow his will.
Another thing you couldn’t deny was how attractive Leon was. You expected some normal military dad who was such a bore, but you couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the attractive older man.
For the whole night, Leon made you feel welcome, helping you with your bags and asking you for any refreshments you would like; your boyfriend mentioned how he hadn’t seen him so happy and eager for years; it must have been the presence of a lady, you thought. You forgot about the desire to have him dislike you; you even thought of continuing to ignore those feelings as nervousness in the relationship, but at the moment, you were so invested in everything Leon was doing and saying to you—you couldn’t describe the feeling he had over you.
As the night wore on, you saw your boyfriend’s eyes get heavier, but you were still wide awake as your conversations with Leon continued at the same pace as in the early afternoon, all the way to the late evening.
“I think I’m going to bed now; I’ll see you tomorrow,” your boyfriend gently kissed your cheek, automatically reciprocating it as he trudged upstairs back into his room, hearing the heavy door click into place.
Your heartbeat picked up when you noticed it was just you and Leon in the same room. You thought about all those thoughts you had when you first saw him, how you analysed his stature, how you looked at how his biceps filled the sleeves of his shirt, trailing down to his hands and how he used them in his manner of speech.
Whatever junk was playing on the television went on for a few minutes after your boyfriend had gone to sleep, and you noticed how Leon leaned back in his chair and listened carefully toward the bottom of the stairs, trying to hear if your boyfriend had gone to sleep already.
“He’s a fast sleeper,” you tried to break the silence. “I’m quite jealous of people who can hit the pillow and sleep -” You weren’t expecting to be cut off.
“Hmm,” a smirk played at the corner of his lips, making your curiosity peak. “You know, you’re a very good actress.”
“E-excuse me?”
“I know you don’t love him, gods, that kiss was pathetic… I know you don’t want to kiss in front of his old man, but that kiss was… plain… Does he really eat this shit up?” You were shocked how he saw through your facade; no one, not even your friends, who thought they knew you better than anyone, could see your true feelings. You felt anxious, like a cold spike that hung around your heart, that sensation in your chest; you were nervous about how he looked through, but in a way, relieved? Relieved that someone could finally see how you were walking on eggshells in your so-called ‘serious relationship.’
You sighed: “I’m sorry… Sir… I didn’t —”
“…Just because I’ve seen through your little act doesn’t mean I think of you differently.”
“Why? I’m kind of wasting your son's time,” you paused for a moment, “I didn’t mean for it to go as far; I just wanted something casual, and I—”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night, sweetheart, I don’t need to hear the excuse… I always knew… He showed me pictures of you… I was shocked he wasn’t making it up; in all honesty. A very pretty girl I thought, and I’m glad my theory was right.”
“You’re going to tell him when he wakes up?” you wanted to be prepared for when he would take the news, trying to talk to yourself and make sure you came clean until you heard Leon’s next words that curated a shake into your core.
“No, I think he can find out when he uses his brain… But I will say, this information does make me happy.” Your eyebrow peaked in interest, and you wondered what he meant. “It makes me feel less guilty.”
“For what?”
“Don’t play coy… I’ve seen how you’ve been looking at me,” you blushed as you swished your head to avoid eye contact, your heart thumping like an animal in a cage the moment you heard and felt him get closer, sneaking into the cushioned seat right next to you, placing his fingers on your chin and turning you to face him, “Don’t be shy now. I have to say I was excited to see that beautiful girl in the pictures; I’m quite glad she’s right in front of me now.”
“I, I, don’t think we-”
“Oh, now you’re a good person?” he teased with a taunting tone in his voice, slowly leaning back, “If you want me to stop, I will… just say the word, dear,” he tilted his head to the side, showing you he was hearing out for a ‘no’.
You couldn’t deny how much you were curious about what he was thinking. You were ashamed but also wanted to indulge in how Leon thought about you. You bit the bottom of your lip softly, slightly licking your lips as you briefly thought about what you were doing. You thought about the implications of cheating on your partner, for a little bit of fun, especially with his father, but that part of you couldn’t care about the right thing as you had Leon staring at you.
“Fine, I’ll —”
“No, wait… I don’t want you to stop,” you say in one breathless sentence.
“Hm,” he leaned in closer, placing his hand on your cheek as he brought you to his lips, “Just tell me when you wanna stop, darling,” he said as he pressed his lips onto yours for a moment, “and don’t worry… I’ll keep your little secret. For now.”
Your heartbeat continued to beat quickly, and you felt your blood rush through your body as you closed your eyes and got lost in his kiss; your lips brushed and glided against one another, and his tongue slid slightly in your mouth and smoothed over and around your tongue. You softly moaned into the kiss as your began to lose yourself even more, your fingers trickling through his blonde hair, feeling yourself drift into the experience as he pulled you closer as he placed his hand on your lower back and collided his body against yours, your arms wrapped around him as he slithered up to your chest.
His hand rose to breast, squeezing the mound that drew soft and whispered moans, continuing to meld into your soft plush as he continued to kiss you through your tender sighs; you instinctively moved your leg around his, making invitation for Leon for push you further into the sofa, not breaking from the countless interlocks and sensual touching. You felt him grind along your clothed pussy, feeling his growing bulge along your cores heat, pushing and rubbing against you as he continued to sway his hips forward and grind into your pussy that was already getting wetter the more the kiss and touches deepened.
He moved from your breast, grinding his index finger on your already hardened nipple, smirking at you not wearing a bra: “hm, you come prepared,” he said as you left a final strong squeeze and continued to graze down your torso, slithering to your core and lifting your dress up, placing a collective of his fingers along the wet patch of your underwear.
“You’re already soaked, you dirty girl,” he whispered in you ear, before leaving a subtle nibble on your earlobe that drew a deeper breath from your lips, arching your back into him as he continued to rub along your covered clit, squirming as his fingers went in perfect circular motions.
“Mm, fuck,” you moaned in a whispered hush, biting your lip as Leon stared at your core, no longer being able to wait as he wrapped his fingers underneath the waistband and travelled the material down your hips, staring at your glistening wet cunt as he discarded the cloth onto the floor, lost in thought as he proceeded to touch your heat, feeling how wet you were the more he circled along the bundle of nerves, your puffy clit stimulated more and leaving you to try your best to keep hushed tones.
“You’re such a beautiful girl,” he whispered to you, then proceeding to place his hand over your mouth, “now try to be quiet darling… we have a secret to maintain.”
He pushed his index and middle finger inside your wet hole, creating a catalyst for your widened eyes and drawing in air for a deep gasp as you felt his long fingers penetrate inside of your walls, feeling him pump in and out, using his thumb to press along your needy clit; your eyes rolled to the back of your head, exposing the whites and seeing a blurred vision as your walls tightened around his fingers, making his cock grow harder against his pants.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he expressed as he continued to pump his fingers, licking his lips as he felt and heard how wet you were, “and all because of me… easy to please a slut.”
Your breathing hitched into a tremble as he poked the right spots, a tingling sensation within you as you closed your eyes and got lost in his expertise before he slowly took away your excitement, feeling your hole flutter from neglect as you stared at him licking his fingers: “you’re a sweet treat,” he complimented as he wrapped his fingers around his trousers and glided them off, seeing his large member and feeling it slap against your pussy.
“Do you want this?” he asked as he positioned himself to your entrance.At first you nodded to which he replied: “be a good girl and use your words, or I’ll leave you squirming.”
“Yes… I w-want you, p-please L-“
“You can call me sir now.”
“P-please Sir. I need you.”
“Good girl.”
He slotted his length to slide into your aching hole, pressing the head of his cock against your walls before hitting the cervix with his tip; “god, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned as he swayed his hips as he continued to fuck you.
Saliva collected at the corners of your lips, as your body swayed up and down as Leon pressed his hands into gripping your waist, pounding his length inside you and you trying your best not to scream out; oxygen felt scarce the more you gasped in need for him.
“Shh, shh, shh, try to keep that pretty mouth quiet darling,” he cooed as he continued to rock forcefully inside you, feeling a wave inside you about to erupt in motions.
Your eyelids fluttered as your walls spasmed around Leon’s large cock, feeling his balls slap against your ass, him lifting your legs around his neck to get deeper and bruising your delicate cervix even more.
Your blood rushed through your veins all at once, as you released a muffled and large orgasm trapped by his hand over your mouth, feeling your stomach coil up into a knot as you released and made a mess all over Leon; but he didn’t care, as he continued to push further and deeper as he watched your tits bounce to the rhythmic thrusts he gave to you.
Before you could recover from your orgasm, feeling your cunt continue to pulsate, you felt Leon’s movement quicken into rougher grinds; as your moans got more laboured and strenuous you felt him drape your walls with his hot cum, swimming out and covering your walls and pooling out, making such a mess.
In a moment of recovery, Leon stopped to catch his breath, keeping himself inside of you and watching you gasp for air, before dictating you: “Go clean yourself up, no one likes a messy slut.”
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a/n: the partners dad leon fics are literally my favourite to write atm, and i’m glad to see so many people going feral over them hehe. just wanted to note that i am working on father in law leon kennedy series, and im thinking of not continuing the las plagas series as i don’t find myself or others liking it. thanks for anyone that reads and I appreciate and am grateful for all the engagement.
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marvelfanfics1 · 3 months
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Hi, could you do a Rafe x little!Reader where the little is being bratty and keeps telling Rafe no when he asks them to do something, so he ends up putting them in timeout and after that theres just a whole lot of fluff and cuteness please?
I totally get it if you can’t!
Btw, I love your writings! Happy Holidays!
Moody Princess
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Pairing: cg!Rafe x little!reader
Warnings: Age Regression, reader telling rafe 'no', punishment (time-out), fluff at the end
A/n: I'm sorry it took me so long to answer this but I hope you still like it!! <3
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It's not often that you act up, because you know better. When you do it's because something upsets you. Like today, Rafe had been running some errands all week, barely at home, and when he was he had to leave abruptly some time later.
You were grumpy. He said he would be here when you'd wake up from your nap, but he wasn't. You tried to light up your mood by coloring for a while and it did work, but you just missed Rafe.
In the evening you were still occupied in your designed playroom when he came back home, heavy and tired footsteps making their way to your room.
Usually, you would have run in his arms the second he opened the front door but you just didn't feel like it today, angrily filling out a page in your color book when you heard him approach you from behind, not bothering to turn around and greet him.
"Hey, baby." You did melt a little when he kissed the top of your head. "Come, it's time for your bath."
He was about to go and run you said bath, stopping dead in his tracks when he heard you say something he's not used to from you at all.
"No."
His head whipped back to face the back of your head. "Excuse me?"
"'M not finished yet- Hey!" you exclaimed when he took the crayon from your hand, finally turning to face him.
He was looking at you sternly and you knew it wasn't the brightest idea to rile him up more, but he wasn't the only one upset here.
"Wanna try that again?" he asked raising an eyebrow at you.
You just turned your back to him again, grabbed another random crayon, and continued to color.
Rafe chuckled crouching right behind you to whisper in your ear. "I'll give you exactly three seconds to-"
"No." you interrupted him, big mistake.
You're suddenly hoisted up by your armpits and whined when you realized where he's carrying you. Brat corner.
He sat you down on the mat, facing the wall. You pout, you didn't really know what you expected by telling him no but you definitely didn't want to sit here now.
Turning your head you watched him put away your books and crayons. He caught you looking and motioned with his finger for you to face the wall again.
All you wanted was to cuddle with him after not being able to the whole day and now you're sat in the corner after being bratty. All the emotions you felt right now were too much and you started to tear up from frustration, sniffling quietly.
The minutes went by and you didn't even know if Rafe was still in the room with you but didn't dare to turn your head.
"Alright, times up," he said and sighed when you didn't move, shaking your head while sobbing.
You were bad. Rafey doesn't like bad girls. Bad girls don't deserve to be cuddled.
"Baby, come here, please." he tried again and this time you stood up, shuffling your way over to where he was seated on your queen-sized bed, standing between his legs as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.
His hands were resting on your hips, frowning a little at seeing the dried-up tears on your cheeks. "Wanna tell me what got my princess all moody?"
"Miss you..." you sniffled in response, placing your hands on his shoulders to get comfortable on his lap, burying your face in his chest.
"I'm right here," he assured you but you shook your head.
"Were busy all week and...you said you will be here after my nap..." you mumbled and Rafe grimaced, mentally cursing at himself. "M sorry I was bad-"
"No." he pulled you back slightly to look at you. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how much I actually neglected you the last few days. I promise it'll not happen again."
There was silence for a moment until you held your pinky up to him.
"Pinky pwomise?"
He smiled at you, lacing his pinky with yours. "Pinky promise," he repeated, planting a kiss on your forehead as you snuggled more into him again. "My good girl..."
He held you like that for some time, rubbing your back occasionally and rocking a little back and forth with you.
When it seemed you calmed down he stood up, carrying you to the bathroom were a warm bubble bath was already waiting for you.
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Taglist
For everything:
@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse
Crossed out are the ones I somehow can't tag!
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lilsedge · 20 days
Note
I was wondering if you could do a tjd girl story where y/n has a bunch of edits and its like always an edit of y/n please and thank you
Edits
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TJDG Short Story 
Warnings: doesn’t follow a storyline
Today was the day that Y/N had to be in a room with the judgement day. Y/N was doing a video with WWE for their YouTube channel and they wanted judgement day to be with her.
She was currently getting her hair and makeup done with her favourite artist. One of the creative team members was talking to Y/N about the video idea. She was going to be watching edits of herself with the judgement day.
“Hey guys,” Y/N says, sitting down on the couch. The creative team made her sit in the middle of the couch. It was her in the middle, Rhea to her left, Dom to her right, and Damian and Finn behind her.
“Hey,” Rhea says. 
“Okay, so we are going to show you guys edits and you react to them,” a member says. 
“That’s it?” Finn asks.
“Yup, you guys can start anytime,” the member replies.
Y/N looks around at the four around her and they all give her a nod. She takes a deep breath, trying not to laugh. 
“Hello, WWE universe it is me, Y/N Copeland and I’m joined with,” she says, trailing off.
���Rhea Ripley,” the girl to her right ways.
“Finn Balor,” he says.
“Damian Priest,” Damian says, tapping Y/N on the head.
“And Dominik Mysterio,” he says.
“Today we all got invited by our creative team to review edits of myself, maybe even of them,” she says.
“Apparently, you guys really wanted this,” Dominik says. 
“First edit,” the team member says. 
The five of them watch the screen. It was an edit of Y/N to the sound “That’s my type”. She watches as the edit goes on, a blush starts to coat her face. 
“Are you blushing?” Finn asks.
“I never watch edits of myself this is why,” she says. 
“You get flustered,” Dominik says, poking at her cheeks. 
“Okay, Dom,” Rhea says, reaching across Y/N to stop him. 
“Sorry Mami,” he quickly says.
“Next edit,” the team member says.
It’s an edit of Y/N again to the sound “backstabber”. It started with Rhea speaking about turning Dom into a man. Then Dom walks out, and it shows Y/N’s face.
“That was a good edit,” Y/N says, as it ended.
“Why’s that?” Damian asks.
“It shows my genuine emotion. What I was feeling in the moment of betrayal,” she replies.
“Well said,” Rhea complimented.
“Thanks Mami,” the girl smiles. 
“Next edit,” 
It was an edit of Y/N to “Body Paint” by Arctic Monkeys. It’s clips of Y/N when she turned on heel. Y/N lets out a breath and smiles.
“I personally want to say that moment where you turned heel was probably one of your best moments,” Finn says.
“Not the time I slapped The Undertaker back in ‘08,” she says, turning to look at him.
“Okay, that was slightly better, but the heel turn is iconic,” he says.
“Thank you,” she says, turning away from him.
“Here’s the next one,” the team member says.
The next edit showed Y/N when she was younger, standing ringside with Lita, then Y/N as her new look. It was to the sound of “Romantic Homicide” by d4vd. 
“I don’t entirely think with my character that Y/N back in the ruthless regression era is ‘dead’. I think if someone were to come back from the era, she would be in new Y/N deep down. Maybe the person could even get her out of her heel,” she says. 
“Wait, I like heel Y/N,” Dominik says, “She can’t go.”
“You like her when she’s beating us up,” Damian says.
“Yeah,” he says. 
“I’ll put that in my mind. To beat you up even more,” Y/N chuckles.
“Next,”
This was an edit of Rhea, Dominik and Y/N. It was to the sound “Triple Threat x She Knows”.
“I wonder if people actually know we see edits that they make,” Y/N says.
“Probably,” Damian says.
“We are the triple threat,” Dominik says, putting an arm around Y/N. Placing his hand on Rhea’s shoulder. 
“Get your arm off of me,” Y/N says, shaking it off.
“Who pissed in your coffee this morning?” Dominik asks.
As the next edit is played, Y/N shakes her head. The sound is ‘Heartbeat’ by Childish Gambino. It’s clips of Y/N and Dominik before his betrayal.
“People really love Dom and I before everything,” Y/N laughs.
“Well, he’s mami’s now,” Rhea says. Y/N rolls her eyes quickly. They were supposed to act somewhat in character.
“One more edit,” the person says.
The last edit was of Young Y/N and how she looks now that she’s grown up. The sound behind the edit was ‘where’d all the time go’ by Dr. Dog.
“Young Y/N is too cute,” Damian comments.
“What happened to that?” She asks. 
“Anyway, they really like to edit younger you,” Rhea says.
“Well, I mean, I’ve basically been in this industry since I was 2 months old. Well, of course not wrestling, but being backstage and in my father’s storylines sometimes. They can get a lot of clips of younger me,” she says. 
“Wrap it up,” the team member says.
“Okay guys, that was all for this video,” Damian says. 
“How do you actually do this?” He asks.
“As you have heard, that was all for the video. We are WWE superstars. We are all on Monday night raw on USA at 8/7 central. Bye WWE universe,” Y/N says, waving. 
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carolmunson · 8 months
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it's like sugar sometimes.
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(older!modern!dad!eddie)
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welcome back to the: orange colored sky setlist a/n: this can be read as a stand alone, give or take some references. but as a pre-cursor: you and eddie are about twelve years apart, meeting in late twenties early thirties, his late thirties early forties. you're deeply in love and we're fast forwarding a bit and now you have a kid. shout out to my nephew because without countless videos of him being the same age as the baby in this fic i would not now how babies baby. cw: pure fluff. pure dad eddie goodness. pretty tame. some mild arguing and swearing. some saucy kisses at the end. a new entry for the fall frenzy extravaganza. this fall frenzy is in honor of @jo-harrington who said i could do whatever, so here we are lmao.
songspiration: how sweet it is (to be loved by you) | james taylor
The ride to the orchard is going much better than you were expecting after such a rough morning. Tears from the moment Gwen came into your room just before four in the morning because she had a bad dream. Then it was too hot for her in bed with both of you, then she was too cold, then Ed’s snoring kept you both awake until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. Then there was the kicking and stretching and rolling around. Aren’t they supposed to sleep like logs? She just turned three. Ed woke up refreshed, frowning when he turned over to see you sitting up against the headboard reading with puffy tired eyes. “Hey,” he says softly as to not wake Gwen who was curled up into his side, “She come in last night?” “Another bad dream,” you shrug, looking at him over your book, “I don’t know if she’s really having them or if she’s just starting to have a little regression period. Maybe we can get her a new night light or something.” “Why don’t you try to go back to sleep for a little and I’ll get her ready,” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep, “I’ll just take her into the shower with me.” You smile lazily at him and nod, looking over at the clock on his night stand – a little past six. Maybe an extra forty-five would do you some good before you went to the orchards upstate. Gwen’s eyes open up to her dad awake, her face contorting when she sees him. “Had a bad dweam,” she sniffles, reaching her arms out. “Poor Gwen, you had a bad dream?” Eddie coos, pulling her up out of bed with him, “Tell me all about it, angel.” Her babbles echo down the hall even after Ed closes the door behind them.
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Piercing sobs woke you up instead of your alarm, though that went off right after to remind you that there’s a whole day you have to start. You rub your eyes and groan, sliding out of bed and stepping into your slippers. You grab your robe, shrugging it on as you leave the bedroom and wincing while another cry pours out of your toddler and goes straight to your chest. “I know, honey, I know,” you hear Eddie soothe, “But we’re gonna go do something so fun. You wanna go pick a pumpkin, right?” “No pumpki-i-in,” she sobs, deep and guttural. You open the door to her room slowly, a very teary Gwen stands in the corner, hair wet in a new set of pajamas. You look at Eddie, pulling out an outfit for her and laying it on her toddler bed. “What’s goin’ on, in here?” you ask gently. “Gwen doesn’t wanna get dressed to go apple picking,” Eddie says quietly, “She wants to watch Blue’s Clues.” “Wan’ see Bl-blue, mommy,” she sobs, “Pwease.” “Hey, hey,” you try your best to settle her, “Thank you for saying please, honey. We can still see Blue but daddy has to get you dressed first.” “Did she eat?” you ask, pulling Gwen up to your hip while she cries into your shoulder. “Yeah, she had some mini waffles and a banana,” he opens her closet and fishes out a tiny pair of Chuck’s to go with her outfit – a little black sweatshirt screen printed with the Halloween movie poster paired with a set of leggings meant to look like jeans. “Did you eat?” you smile, coming over to him to plant a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, her leftovers,” he laughs, “There’s a cup of coffee waiting for you on the counter.” “Thank you,” you nudge him, feeling Gwen squirm and whine while she tries to shimmy down from your hip, “Okay, okay.” “Gwen, please,” Eddie begs with a twinge of frustration in his voice when she makes it to the door, on her tiptoes to reach the handle, “Let’s just get you dressed and you can watch Blue’s Clues while we do your hair.” She stomps, wet curls bouncing with her when she does, “Wanna watch now, pwease!” “Thank you for asking nicely Gwen, but that doesn’t always mean you get your way,” he explains. She shrieks, loud enough that your eyes squint, stomping again onto the fluffy white carpet below her, “I wanna watch Blue’s Cwue’s!” “Why don’t you take a deep breath for me, huh?” Eddie asks her, he pats your lower back on the way to the door. A silent way of letting you know to just go get yourself ready, he can handle the rest, “Do we need to take a time out?” “No time out,” she starts to cry again when you slip out of the room. More frustrated whines and wails boom down the hall, dissipating while you make it down the metal staircase to the coffee on the counter. Your heart swells when you notice that he already emptied and reloaded the dishwasher. 
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After you’ve packed some snacks for later and gotten yourself dressed, you make your way back upstairs. You approach the bathroom with your coffee in hand, Gwen’s sippy cup full of water in the other. Her bubbly squeals respond back to whoever is talking to her, barely looking up from Eddie’s phone to look at you when you open the door. 
“Who’re you talking to, miss girl?” you ask, putting her sippy cup next to her on the bathroom counter. “Steeb,” she says, eyes glued to the screen, much happier than she was before. “She’s watching 90s Blue’s Clues?” you laugh at your husband who’s busy splitting her Gwen’s hair into a middle part, looking in the mirror that she’s sat in front of. “No, she’s FaceTiming with Steve,” he shakes his head, pulling one section back into a high pigtail. “Hi peach!” Steve’s voice rings from the phone, he lowers it back down to parentese to address Gwen, “Is that mommy? Can you say hi to her for me?”  “Steeb say hi,” Gwen says, lifting the phone up, showing the screen to the ceiling of the bathroom. You take the phone for a second, seeing Steve’s annoyed face in the frame. 
“You’re on thin ice,” he says, his fiancee’s laugh ringing out of frame, “I can’t believe you’re going this week when we’ll be there in two. You always go before we come to visit.” “There will be plenty of apple picking trips to do together when we move, I promise,” you assure, “She starts gymnastics and swimming next weekend, we won’t have another time to do it.” 
“Gymnastics?” he asks, “Does she have tights? Leotards? What can I get her?” 
“She has like, I don’t know Steve – forty leotards? She’s gonna grow out of half of them in six weeks,” you explain, “Don’t worry, your husband got it covered.” Eddie snickers, wrapping an elastic around one of the ponytails in his fingers. “Well if she’s gonna grow out of them then she’ll need more,” he scoffs, “I’ll get some sent over.” 
“You’re impossible,” your eye roll is something Steve is just as used to as Eddie is. Gwen whines again, reaching for the phone with grabby hands, a quiet ‘Steeby’ escaping her. “I can hear her asking for me, gimme back to my girl,” he sighs. You hand the phone back to Gwen who giggles when Steve makes a funny face at her through the screen. “Look how pretty those ponytails are. Daddy did such a good job,” Steve coos at her. “We payin’ be-yoo-dee sawon,” Gwen explains. Eddie looks up at you, whispering ‘Can you grab her bows for me?’ You nod, reaching into the bottom drawer to snatch a basket full of bows, holding them out to him while he picks. 
“Beauty salon,” Eddie corrects softly, “Orange or black bows?”  “Bwack,” she says, waving him off like you do when you’re busy, “I’m on da phone, daddy.” “Yeah,” you say, meeting her sass, “She’s on the phone, daddy.”
He lets a ‘pfff’ push out of his lips while he grabs two black bows from last halloween, little sparkly spider webs parked in the center. You leave them to it, heading down to get the car packed up and make sure you have Gwen’s bag set up before you leave. 
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Despite the dramatics, the ride is going well. Gwen happily eats an apple sauce packet in her carseat while the two of you sip on coffees and eat breakfast sandwiches from a drive thru off the highway. It’s nice to get out of the city for a while and get Gwen used to the idea of not being in it anymore. The drive consists mostly of James Taylor’s greatest hits because Gwen is her Grandpa Wayne’s baby before she’s anyone else’s. She hums along to Carolina and sings only the chorus of Mexico. Her favorite song is Mockingbird even though it’s Carly Simon featuring James Taylor. The two of you throw it on the record player every other day to sing it to her, even if she doesn’t ask for it. It’s selfishly your favorite song, too, just ‘cause you get to see your husband play along with you. “And if that better way ain't so, I'll ride with the tide and go with the flow, And that's why, I keep on shoutin' in your ear, Saying (yeah, yeah) whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-oh.” You lean your head back on the passenger’s side to make eye contact with Gwen through the visor mirror who giggles back at you. She mimics your ‘whoa-whoa-whoa’, shimmying in her carseat with her shoulders. Gwen’s no stranger to shimmying, always finding some way to dance off beat to Ed’s music when he plays at a venue she can be at or practices at home. His number one fan. 
“Oh-wange twees, mommy,” Gwen says, tiny finger pointing out the window at the foliage lining the road. “I see them, aren’t they pretty Gwen?” you nod back at her. Eddie’s head turns slightly to watch her watch the trees, eyes shining at each change of color hits her. His heart beats a little quicker knowing she’s able to make those distinctions between orange, red, and yellow – too smart, getting too big. “Daddy’s git-tah,” she yelps, pointing hard at a tree covered in dark red leaves while Eddie slowly turns down the entrance of the orchard. Gwen lets out a tiny ‘woah’ when the car jostles that makes him laugh, he wishes she’d stay this little forever. “Yeah, that’s the same color as daddy’s guitar, good job sweetheart,” he smiles back at her, “Are you ready to pick some apples so we can make Uncle Stevie a pie for when he visits?” “Ya!” She nods, happy and excited. She doesn’t know what he said, but whenever he talks to her with a smile she’ll do whatever he asks and vice versa. Still ‘sort of rockstar’, definitely ‘meant to be father’. Parking is less of a nightmare than expected since it’s early in the day – most families come after the first morning nap, at least that’s what the mom groups told you on Facebook. Gwen hardly naps anymore, but you won’t be surprised if she knocks out earlier than usual tonight. Eddie gets the backpack full of Gwen’s essentials and you grab the baby. “I have to carry you through the parking lot, babe,” you say when she starts to bounce in your arms, eager to run on the grass in her sneakers. “Wanna walk, please,” she begs, her hands on your cheeks while you make your way towards the entrance. “You can walk when we get inside but there’s lots of cars out here and no stop lights,” you say, batting her hand out of your hair when she reaches for it, “I’ll put you down in a little bit.” “You think we should take the stroller?” Ed asks from the trunk. “They have wagons, we can just pull her around,” you shrug, “I don’t think the back up stroller is good for this kind of place, we’d need the one at home.” Eddie shrugs, joining you on your walk to the entrance to get your empty bag and your wagon, putting Gwen at the back as you get to the trees. “Walk, please,” she begs again. You hesitate, it’s just too big of a place and she’s a runner, “Honey, I would love it if you–” “Let her walk,” Eddie says, “She’ll get bored after a few minutes and wanna watch anyway, just let her walk.” “Come here Gwen, hold my hand,” he says, offering a tattooed hand to her pudgy one. She clumsily crawls out of the wagon, bouncing over to her dad to put her hand in his. He pulls her up once, making her squeal and giggle as she floats next to him. “More, more!” she laughs, letting Eddie swing her ahead a few more times while you all make your way through the trees. 
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She likes apple picking more than you expected, arms up constantly to be lifted onto the branches to grab some off of every few trees. Gwen had a good eye, better than you and Eddie, for super crisp ones – pointing up and jumping to get at them. If she was a little bigger you wouldn’t be surprised if she climbed up the trees with the ease of a jungle cat. Your husband encouraged it, climbing up the branches like he was still twenty – sitting with his legs dangling off and having you pass your toddler to him. “Please be careful,” you warn, passing her up to him. “Babe, I know what I’m doing,” he scowls, a hint annoyed before changing his expression for Gwen when he helps her onto the low branch with him. “You don’t have to be a jerk, I just want her to be safe,” you snap back. “And I’m keeping her safe,” he says with a smile as to keep your daughter none-the-wiser. Still looking at Gwen while she reaches for another apple. She hands it to Eddie who hands it to you, your fingers brush. “Sorry,” he says, looking down at you, “I’ll be careful. We’re not very high, but you’re right. I’ll be careful.” “Thank you,” you nod, taking the apple and pressing a ghost of a kiss to his knuckles. He blushes red, red, red. Red like the leaves, red like his guitar. “Why s’pink, daddy?” Gwen asks, passing him another apple. “I just love mommy very much, honey,” he smiles, pressing a kiss into her hair, “She makes me turn pink like a heart.” “Like on da phone,” she says, clinging to him like a koala when he slides down off the low branch with her. “Yes, like on the phone,” he nods. You’re not Peach 🍑 in his phone anymore. You’re The Wife 💗. Right now he’s Gwen’s Dad in your phone because you got in an argument two months ago and haven’t changed it back to Rockstar Husband 🎸❣️because ‘Gwen’s Dad’ makes you laugh too much. He hates it. “How you like them apples, G?” you ask when Eddie puts her down in the wagon, she looks up at you confused and shrugs; brown curly pigtails bouncing at she does. “Kids today,” you shake your head at Eddie while you press onward, “No culture.” 
“No culture,” he agrees enthusiastically. 
You peruse, the bags you bought are filled to the brim with apples. Some red, some green, a few yellow so Gwen can try them and see if she likes them. It’s a calming walk, the chatter of other families, the squeaky roll of the wagon, the rustle of the trees when the early autumn wind catches them. Eddie holds your hand loosely, always needing to keep touching you in some way, always wanting to keep you close to him. You look back, Gwen going between looking around at the other families and playing with her V-Tech phone. Eddie goes from walking slow to speeding up to make the wagon jostle just to hear Gwen’s giggles peal through the trees. After about an hour of walking and picking, you’re about as pooped as your toddler should be. Once you get to the tree line you see the farm and market down at the base of the hill, a little relieved that you’ve all made it to the end of the road unscathed. 
That is, until Gwen climbs out of the wagon when it comes to a stop and without warning, books it towards the edge. 
“Gwendolyn Rose!” Eddie’s call is rough and loud out of fear, but it sounds like anger. Gwen stops short, startled, falling backwards onto the seat of her leggings. Like clockwork the first whine starts, building up into a needy, sad wail. You know they’re crocodile tears so you keep your pace with the wagon behind you. Your husband however, despite the constant reminder that she knows he’s easy, rushes forward without a second thought. “Oh no, my baby girl, shh, shh. I’m sorry,” he coos, reaching down to hoist her up onto his hip, “I didn’t mean to yell, sugar. You just got daddy scared is all. I’m not mad.” Gwen wipes her face, pushing away tears that never fell, sniffling and hiding her face in his neck. He rubs her back while she settles, guilt tugging on the lines between his brows. 
“No baby girl,” Gwen pouts, “I’m big girl.” 
“Oh that’s right, you’re my big girl,” Eddie grins, kissing her cheek. She’s not amused, frowning down at him while she pushes up against his shoulder to squirm out of his hold. “That’s a very grumpy face, Gwenny,” you giggle.  “Hey, are you mad at me?” he asks up at her before popping her back down onto her feet at the edge of the tree line, “Why’re you lookin’ so mad?” 
“I’m big,” she announces, little foot stomping on the grass below her. Eddie lets a sigh out through his nose and kneels down to her level. She takes several deep breaths and you both know it’s the beginning of what could be a very long second tantrum of the day. “I know, you’re a very big girl,” he nods, “But what do mommy and daddy say you have to do when we don’t have you in the stroller?” “Hode hands,” she repeats back in a whine. “That’s right, we hold hands – and if we’re not holding your hand you’re supposed to stay close, right?” He watches her nod, tucking a finger under her chin to make sure she’s absorbing what he’s saying. Her lower lip juts out, cheeks puffing while her shoulders sulk. “I walk by - by mysewf,” she urges, sniffling, “Pwease.” “Not today, sugar. I’m sorry,” he sighs, cupping her cheek in his palm, “I have a fun idea, do you wanna get on daddy’s shoulders and you can tell us how far we are from the farm?” She brightens up a little, giggling when he reaches down to tickle her sides before scooping her up to lift over his shoulders. He groans the way old men groan when they lift something and you stifle a laugh, smiling up at Gwen when she smiles down at you. “Hi mommy,” she beams, waving her tiny hand.  “Hi baby,” wave back lazily, the shoddy sleep you had last night starting to settle into your eyes. “Do you see the farm, Gwenny?” Eddie asks, she nods enthusiastically, “Maybe we can go get you a donut, how does that sound? Will that make you happy?”
“Ed,” you click your tongue, “She’s never gonna get to sleep later.” “We’re making memories, babe,” Eddie says, reaching up to hold Gwen’s hands to keep her steady, “Some extra sugar won’t hurt her.” 
“Yeah, you love extra sugar, don’t you?” you laugh. 
“Matter of fact, I do,” he smirks, shooting you a wink. He laughs when he sees two of those twelve foot Home Depot skeletons posed outside the front of the market, promoting their haunted hayride with signs and other silly decor, “Shit, that’s fuckin’ metal – s’ridiculous.” 
“S’dic-yoo-liss,” Gwen repeats. “S’ridiculous, Gwennifer!” Eddie repeats back in concurrence. “Sss’tick-you-luss,” she bounces, laughing when he laughs. They have the same one, though his has years on hers, gruff with age, with cigarette stains. 
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Pumpkins get picked, warm donuts devoured, the morning finally feels like it’s coming to a close. You park Gwen down at a picnic table while Eddie goes to get the goods, hanging out with your threenager who can barely keep her eyes open. You’re thankful you still have the wagon because there was no way you’d be able to carry all of it back to the car. Caramel apples, cider donuts, three gallons of apple cider, honey sticks, pumpkin pie, and anything else Eddie thought was good enough to bring home for the season weight heavy in the brown paper bags in his arms. He comes back sheepishly, biting his lower lip when you look at the bags and then at him. 
“Hm,” you hum pointedly. 
“I just really like fall flavors, peach,” he shrugs, “And the old lady at the front was so sweet telling me about the deals I couldn’t not get everything.” “You’re such a sucker,” you laugh with a roll of your eyes, “You ready to head out?” He nods, ticking his forehead at Gwen whose cheek is smushed against your chest, eyelashes brushing the tops of her cheeks, “Looks like this pumpkin’s ready to go.” 
“She’s out,” you say softly, brushing her hair away from her face, “Lasted five minutes on my lap.” 
“Let me get a picture to send to Steve,” he says low enough that it doesn’t wake her, “The background is perfect.” “Ed you have a thousand pictures of her from today,” you complain. “Shh, shh, come on,” he smiles, taking out his phone – you know he’s only snapping Gwen by the way he lowers the camera to your lap. He puts the bags in the wagon while you slowly stand with her wrapped around your front. You wait at the entrance for him to pull the car around, leaving the wagon behind. She doesn’t wake up when you pop her back in the car seat, slowly rolling out of the parking lot with the rest of the afternoon in your wake. 
“I got her a little gourd painting kit, somewhere in those bags,” he says, “She can make some decorations.”  “Oh she’ll love that,” you nod, peeking at her sleeping face in the visor mirror again, “I’ll do it with her before dinner.”
He pulls in slowly at a stop sign, hand reaching out to snake into yours, pulling it to his lips to bless you with soft kisses on the back of your hand.
“Thanks for such a good day, baby,” he murmurs.
“You’re very welcome.” 
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Later on, just before dinner, Eddie hears a tiny knock on his office door paired with two giggles from his favorite girls. 
“Yes?” he calls out. The door creeps open and he hears you whisper, ‘Ask ‘Are you busy, daddy?’ 
“You busy, daddy?” Gwen pipes up. He shuts his computer, moving away from the two additional screens. “No, honey, never too busy for you,” he smiles, creases by his eyes showing up through his glasses, “Do you have something to show me?” 
“Yeah,” she nods, pulling on your hand to pull you into the room. He uses the same candles he always has, deep spice, like his cologne. Warm like the way he holds you. Still in his hunter green Dickie’s overalls from this morning. 
You give Gwen her little pumpkin that she painted to present to her dad, beaming with excitement while he looks it over. 
“Such a good job, Gwenny,” he coos, “Are these –” 
“I did bats,” she grins, finger touching the sparkly black sort of bats adorning the outside. Covered in glitter and sequins, falling onto his office floor. 
“You did bats? For Halloween?” he asks. You shake your head no, smiling big when Gwen goes on to explain. 
“No cause, daddy, cause you have bats,” she hurriedly explains, “Issa daddy pum-kin.” She reaches to his left arm, pointing at the bat tattoos on the inside when he was a kid. She runs her finger over them, “See, bats like daddy.” 
“That’s so sweet, honey,” he coos, “Is it for me?” “Yeah,” she squeaks, “For here.” “For your office,” you say for her, trying not to giggle when his eyes shine with tears. She could give him a piece of trash and he’d cry over it, “‘Cause you have so many Halloween decorations in here.” He laughs, looking around at all the tour posters he has from bands he’s seen over the years – to a three year old they probably are a little scary. “And what did you say it was when you were done, Gwen?” you ask, “What did you say daddy would think the pumpkin was?” “Fucking med-oh,” she giggles. “Oh my god,” he sighs, thumb and forefinger immediately going to temples. “Fucking metal,” you repeat back him, knowingly, “Wonder where she got that.”
He tries not to laugh when he looks down at Gwen, “Don’t say that word, baby, that’s a bad word.” “Sowwy,” she whispers. “It’s okay, you didn’t know,” he grins, pulling her in to kiss her all over. She shrieks the way babies shriek when they’re excited and runs out of the office toward her bedroom at the end of the hall. You turn to go after her before feeling Eddie’s hand on your shoulder. “Hey,” he says quietly in your ear, you shiver, “Remember when you said I like a little extra sugar?” 
Your cheeks burn hot, turning to him, “I do.” He leans in slow, lips capturing yours in a way that they only do when you both get to be alone, “Don’t forget to keep givin’ me some.” “I won’t,” you murmur back, letting him kiss you deeply one more time before pressing a slow kiss to your favorite place under the hinge of your jaw, “You’re bold, Munson.” He shrugs, breaking away, “Needed somethin’ sweet.” 
As if he isn't sweet enough. Eddie spends the rest of the night looking up ways to preserve a painted gourd. 
masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi
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