#I’m just trying to pacify my anxiety here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wonryllis · 2 months

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daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,

preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?

or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?

meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader

genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.

word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.

warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.

theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..

RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%

"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.

a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.

the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”

“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.

“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.

“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.

“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.

his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.

“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”

“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?

“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.

yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.

“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.

“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.

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cursedmoon-doll13 · 10 months

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If It Serves You.

(Headmaster!Severus Snape x Reader)

Cw: Non/Dubcon + Aftermath, Afab Reader, Dark-ish Snape, Unprotected Sex, Powerplay, Sex as Bargaining, Facefucking, Crying, Fingering, Creampie, Begging, Degradation (use of slut) and Praise, Reader calls Snape ‘Headmaster,’ Former Student Reader, Mentions of Torture/Child Abuse, Denial of Feelings.

READ WITH CAUTION

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: As a professor of Hogwarts, your past ambitions, your fragile hope and unrelenting diligence have all led to nothing. Now, you are powerless beneath the rising force of He Who Must Not Be Named and his army of Death Eaters. The only thing left you have to give is your pride; your weak and vulnerable body.

Or, you beg the new headmaster to show mercy to your students in exchange for sexual favours.

Dividers by @/saradika

Of course, there was no pressing need to check and recheck the potions’ storage. Certainly no need to catalogue it twice. You did almost it out of instinct, or force of habit. Yes, It’s healthy to maintain a routine, including routine inspections, just like- just like-

“Professor ___,” comes a gruff voice from behind. In your nervous state, you imagine it is a Carrow, and freeze in panic. “Why are you here?”

You whirl around. No. It’s Professor Slughorn.

“Oh,” you straighten your robes. “Horace. I was just taking inventory.”

“Were you? I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.” He says brusquely.

“Of course, of course you can.”

Your voice carries the same placid, appealing tone with which you’ve used to calm your pupils. You wince at the sound of it. Then, his expression loosens. Not immediately, but little by little, settling into the creases and wrinkles of stress and age. His walrus moustache droops into a familiar frown.

“I’m… I’m very sorry, ___,” he says. “Whenever I leave my storage unattended for too long, I take this terrible notion that some very bright and brilliant student is going to brew a polyjuice potion. Heh.”

His laughter rings rather hollow.

“Yes, those were my thoughts exactly,” you concede, heaving a sigh. “It would be so simple. Not for all of them, but some of our best could do it. And then they would make a reckless attempt at escaping, or even try to impersonate one of those Death…”

You stop yourself, and peer carefully into his face.

You’ve noticed how Horace has visibly deflated, how he has lost his colour over the past few months. How could you not? You would never accuse the Slug of being slovenly, but you’re well aware that beneath all the powder his eye-bags are as sunken as yours.

“It is unfortunate that one of my… One of our best…” It seems that he cannot finish his sentence. Nonetheless, you know who she is.

“It’s a very unfortunate thing,” Professor Slughorn mutters idly. “Very unfortunate…”

He’s fiddling with a ring on one liver-spotted finger. His lips purse periodically, as if a throb in his temple is threatening to burst.

“Horace, It’ll all be alright,” you try to reassure him, knowing you cannot guarantee this.

The only response you receive is a distant nod. He does not stop fussing over his ring. Then, he turns abruptly stony again:

“Well, then,” he says. “You’d best be on your way.”

He dismisses you as curtly as he would a student, but you don’t protest. You know that when you leave, he will pacify his anxiety with a sleeping draught.

As you exit the dungeon and traverse the silent halls, the early winter chill rattles straight through your bones. It seems that Hogwarts grows colder each passing day; colder and emptier. Even when teaching, your classroom is as quiet as death.

Alchemy has never been a popular elective, and now you are down to very few students. Some had also disappeared completely over the Summer, mostly those without Pureblood status or families to support them… You try not to ponder too deeply on it. For their sake - and perhaps also for your own - you keep it together.

Yes. You must stay stubborn and strong. Especially considering what you are about to do now.

You shiver in your thin robes outside of the Headmaster’s office. The griffin sentinel glares haughtily down at you, and for a second you fancy it alive, judging you guilty for some crime. Thinking this, You glance this way and that, wary of onlookers.

But all of the students are asleep; or at least, they should be. Most of your coworkers have also retired for the evening. You here stand alone.

You take a deep, shuddering breath.

“Sugar Quill.” Your voice echoes eerily.

The griffin does not budge. The new headmaster has changed the password, of course. You suspected as much, but it was still worth attempting.

“Amortentia,” you try next. No response.

You shift, acutely aware of how ridiculous you must appear; a Hogwarts professor stumped by a statue.

“Polyjuice. Veritaserum. Bezoar… Asphodel.”

Nothing.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you huff, already spiked with tight, uneasy tension. “It was so much easier when Dumbledore…”

A low, heavy rumble breaks your train of thought as the spiral staircase emerges. You quickly mount it and climb upwards, boots clattering on the rising stone. It gives way to a large study lined with bookshelves.

You’ve made it into Dumbledore’s office.

Except it is no longer his. You must remind yourself of this fact often, and each time it stings, like a tiny pricking thorn ingrown into the heart. The study is far draughtier than you remember; devoid and bereft in the absence of Fawkes.

No, Albus is not here. Instead, what scowls over at you from behind the Headmaster’s desk is the unmistakable face of Severus Snape, and he does not appear pleased to see you.

“Kindly inform me why you are in my office.” His voice is slow and measured, but you can sense the venom lurking underneath.

“I don’t remember ever giving you the password,” he continues, alighting from his chair. “Or have you picked up that nasty eavesdropping habit from one of our pupils?”

He spat that last word as if it was a curse.

“No, Severus,” you say quickly. “I guessed it.”

Severus. Or Professor Snape. But now…

You think you catch him pale ever-so-slightly, or perhaps that is the dim lighting of the room, casting dark, creeping shadows across the floor. While there has never been a cordiality or warmth to your relationship, you recognise that you have been spared the worst of his barbed hostility.

Before now, that is; now, the distance between you is far too great.

“Did you now?” He sneers.

In response, you draw up, mindful not to appear challenging as you tip your chin.

“I’m here because I have a proposition for you,” you announce clearly. “I hoped you would be reasonable and hear me out.”

Snape’s eyes narrow icily and suddenly you are in his Potions class again, overseen with strict authority. One wrong move, and the concoction will spoil and poison you. His black robes billow as he approaches, expanding like the hood of a cobra.

“There is nothing you could possibly offer me,” he says, folding one shrouded arm over another. “And so there is nothing to discuss. Leave.”

Your nerves are strung so tight, you can’t help but object: “The Carrows are far too cruel in their methods! Too brutal. The students-”

“Are very fortunate to have been granted mercy by the Dark Lord,” Snape interrupts, and you swallow thickly. Of course, you could not have forgotten the festering dark mark that now itches underneath his robes, writhing and serpentine.

“But it isn’t enough,” you say, throat sandpaper dry. A rush of urgency floods your system. Now. It needs to be now, before you lose your courage.

(A gash on the cheek, a row of dark-purplish bruises and welts, a swollen eye, whippings and burns, scars from chains, all so frightened, but brave still.)

“If you agree to grant my students your protection,” your voice falters. “I will give… Myself to you.”

The silence that follows is agonising. His expression is indecipherable; taut and stiff. You’re beginning to think that maybe you weren’t transparent enough.

Your trembling hands drift towards your top buttons, and you start to undo them bit by bit.

“Stop,” Snape orders.

At this, you freeze. Your heart plummets starkly into your intestines. Oh. You hadn’t even considered that he would - or could - reject your offer. You fear you may have tipped the bubbling cauldron over and left it melting through the carpet. As you linger numbly, Snape’s tongue darts between his lips. Light flashes behind his stern black eyes.

Perhaps he’s considering it, perhaps…

“Come here,” he says sharply. You obey.

Shuddering in the winter chill, you watch the slow bob of his Adam’s apple, the twitch of his lids as his gaze dips steadily downward… Snape’s forefinger comes to brush the fabric from your shoulder, his knuckle grazing your collarbone, and your pulse quickens anew.

“I’ll do anything,” you plead. “Please, Severus.”

“You will refer to me as ‘Headmaster,’” he corrects.

“Headmaster…”

You suck in a shaky breath. Standing this close to him, you can make out the lilac rims of his sunken eyes and the worry lines on his forehead.

He’s tired… The thought springs to mind, unbidden.

The hand that tends to the rest of your buttons is not rough, but the coldness of his touch makes you flinch. Snape pulls down your outer robes in one swift motion, and you can’t help but gasp. Your nipples perk from the chill, skin prickled with goosebumps. Underwear was unnecessary, and though you knew that from the start, you are stripped so quickly it still leaves you cringing. He moves to fondle your breasts, and your breathing shallows. You stare desperately towards the floor, towards some old, faded tea stain.

“Fall on your knees, ___,” he tells you.

You kneel quickly in front of him, and he moves to cup the nape of your neck. You don’t need to be instructed; you do your best to steady your hands and unfasten the button over his crotch. You nudge out his dick, and see that he’s already half-hard.

Before he changes his mind, you spit into your palm and use it as lubricant as you get to work jerking him off. You can feel him watching you, silent and still. This situation is completely wrong, all wrong, but the awkwardness of it is almost juvenile.

“___,” he calls above you. You stiffen. You know that cautionary tone. “If you have enough cheek to wag your tongue at me, you can also use it for this.”

You nod faintly, licking your lips. Of course, you should have prepared for this, too, but you have barely even steeled your nerves. Hesitant, you lean forward and run your tongue along the shaft, tracing a vein. Your movements are practically mechanical; dispensing small, kitten licks over the tip, continuing to stroke him. This is now a kind of out-of-body experience for you, the sort of bizarre circumstance you can only encounter in a very strange dream.

But then, Snape decides your next course of action for you, clutching your jaw and muffling your whimpers as he sinks into your mouth.

A teardrop falls softly onto your chest, and it only occurs to you now that you’re crying. You gag out a sob as the tip of Snape’s cock hits the back of your throat, unable to prevent loose spit from dribbling down your chin. Above you, his breath hitches.

“Open your eyes,” he demands.

You didn’t know you had closed them; squeezed them tightly shut. You peek up at his pale face.

His pupils are blown wide, almost entirely black. Snape forbids you to keep eye-contact with a firm grip over your head, and you gag again as he rocks his hips. You clutch his thighs for purchase while he fucks your face, tears streaming down your cheeks. For distraction, you try to focus on him, and his pleasure-stricken expression lulls you in like hypnosis; the tightness of his lips, his dark brows slightly furrowed, the minute twitches in his jaw.

Snape’s thrusts begin to stutter, but he tightens his hold on you and forces you to take all of him. He drags in a sharp intake of breath, and warm, slightly bitter cum pools onto your tongue.

“Swallow it. All of it.”

You gasp for air, gulping it down hastily.

“You'll be getting used to the taste of me. Stand.”

Snape urges you up and steers you over to his table. Before you can blink, you’re whirled around and caged against his desk. The edge of it cuts harshly into your naked thighs, and you yelp. You can feel his long black hair sweep over your neck, a sensation that is almost ticklish. Snape yanks down your robes and they fall limply around your boots. Now, you are truly exposed, shivering and naked. The only source of warmth is his body heat pressed into your back, the starched, dark fabric of his clothing.

His cool hand dips around and feels down your stomach, and your breath hitches as Snape unexpectedly plunges several fingers into your pussy. You shock yourself with how slick you are, mortified at the way he tsks behind you:

“Little slut. Is this what you’ve always wanted?” Snape hisses into your ear, spreading the pads of his fingertips over your labia, teasing your clit.

“Yes!” You choke out.

“Yes, Headmaster,” he pinches your clit warningly and it feels like an electric shock.

“Yes, yes Headmast- ah…!”

He starts to rub in rough, merciless circles, and you immediately try to stifle a cry against your wrist. Snape rips it impatiently from you.

“Don’t even try to deny it. I can feel how wet you are.”

It’s surely not the truth. Surely, you tell yourself...

One long, deft forefinger slips into your slit and pumps steadily in and out. You let out a soft moan, unable to resist the quivering thrill that coils in your abdomen. You didn’t realise he would even try to prep you, and, against your will, you feel some of your fear dissipate.

“You think I didn’t notice, did you?” He scoffs. “Always so desperate for my attention, always clamouring for a better grade.”

Memories of your seventh year at Hogwarts resurface and spiral dizzily in your head. The newest, youngest professor, but strict and competent, and—

Dark, sweeping cloak, black hair, black eyes…

I even once wished I could brush away the strands…

Then he retracts his fingers, slowly, torturously, You hate how you yearn for his touch in its absence, how you crave the buzz to smother your discomfort.

Snape bends you cleanly over the polished table, your still damp breasts pressing into the hardwood. He traces a long, thin finger down your back, tracing languidly across your spine; you could almost believe his touch is tender. Almost. Instinctively, you try to turn your head to face him, but he denies you with a firm hand gripping the base of your neck. You whimper as he lathers cold precum on your thighs, positioning his straining dick over your entrance:

“…Or was it praise you were hoping for?” His voice is low and subdued. Snape’s breath fans over you, and for a moment you falter.

No, of course you don’t expect—

No, not from Professor Snape. Only your best was acceptable. To elicit a nod of approval, or even a commending glance, you couldn’t possibly hope—

“Headmaster, I— I only ever wanted you to…”

“Beg for it,” his tone sharpens again.

Snape slips the tip of his cock inside your folds. But then, he stops, and does not move. You are trapped between his desk and him, left pitiful and squirming.

“Headmaster,” you say weakly. “Please.”

“Please what, ___?”

You grit your teeth, still bristling at the indignity of it all. But you know that, whether he’s enjoying himself or not, Snape has the patience to wait this out.

“Please, fuck me!” you plead.

You gasp as he grips your thighs and slides himself in further with a lewd, wet sound. Your walls stretch around him as you adjust to his length. He groans softly and rolls his hips, sinking deeper into your cunt, until you’re utterly full of him.

Despite it all, it feels sinfully good, but his movements are so sluggish that you can’t help but whine pathetically into the wooden table.

“And what exactly is it that you’ve always wanted?”

What I always wanted, when I was in Potions class…

“For you to p-praise me, Headmaster.”

In an instant, you realise this is true. Deep down, you have always hoped for his sole attention… And now he’s invading that dark, primordial world in between, spurring on those secret and forbidden desires you should never have conceived.

Snape slowly pulls out, dragging every inch of his cock, and then snaps his hips back in, briefly hitting that sweet, sensitive spot that has you seeing stars.

“Please!” You add, letting out a shrill moan.

“And do you? Do you want this…?”

He mutters so quietly, it almost sounds like he’s begging you. Snape’s pace is set now, rocking powerfully into you as you fill the air with loud, desperate whimpers.

“I do!” You breathe, mind-numbingly uncertain.

But it doesn’t matter anymore if you want it or not; the sensation is so overbearing and so ruthless, unforgiving and unfair, just like him. You’re barely cognizant of the arms that curl around your naked waist, almost embracing you, until they provide cushioning against the sharp desk.

“You take me so well,” he murmurs, “So well.”

Your head spins, threatening to give up on you completely. You could never have predicted such a drastic change in demeanour. The way he’s treating you now is so different from his earlier cruelty; his affectionate caresses might be almost loving.

“So tight, so good for me…” He groans again, heavily, and the vibrations thrill up your spine as he spears you on his dick. “You’re doing perfectly.”

He kneads the soft flesh of your thighs, sighing blissfully. You can feel the spiking thrum of Snape’s heartbeat, the soft touch of his lips on your neck, kissing reverently over your shoulder blade. You wish you could just see the expression on his face, if you could only see Severus for one moment…

“Headmaster,” you pant, craning your head.

“Don’t,” he says hurriedly. “Don’t look at me.”

Snape doesn’t relent, forcing you firmly in place with a hard squeeze on your shoulder. There’s something thick and vulnerable in his voice that you can’t place, but all you can respond with is a needy cry as he speeds up, angling his thrusts just right. You can feel the familiar shock of pleasure coiling up in your belly now, surging from how deep he reaches.

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, aren’t I?” He snaps without warning, bursting with emotion again. You can only nod frantically in response.

“Yes, yes, Headmaster!” You sob, your eyes stinging with tears again.

Snape’s movements only grow stronger, his breathing heavier and huskier. His fingernails are digging small, half-moon indents into your skin. You don’t try to stifle the wanton moans that spill from your lips anymore, clawing for purchase at the wood.

“___… When you cum, you cum for me.”

Uncontrollably, you arch into the table. Your leg is cramping up from the exertion, muscles pulled taut, and you’re going to, you’re going to—

Your orgasm drowns the rest of your thoughts in static, white, hot bliss that smothers you. Snape shudders and moans as he buries himself to the hilt, pumping you full of his seed. His black cloak sweeps over you as he pulls out, far too soon, leaving you quivering and dripping with his cum.

The last, mangled strands of lucidity swim hazily in your mind. It takes a moment for you to remember why you were here at all.

After a few seconds, he releases you from the confines of his desk without a word. You bend down and hoist the ring of fabric up past your hips again, though your skin is sticky and damp. After a deep, shaky breath, you dare to glance at Snape.

There’s a thin sheet of sweat beading his forehead. Snape helps you pull your robes over your shoulders. He silently fastens your buttons back up again for you, and his touch is surprisingly gentle. You don’t rebuff him. Your hands are trembling enough as it is.

“Promise me that you’ll…” You halt.

Your vision is still blurry, but you could swear he looks like the old Severus. Not the figurehead or the professor, but the man. The Severus you once knew.

There’s a strange look in his eyes that you don’t understand, and maybe you never will.

You’re so dead tired you can barely drag your feet back to the staff’s living quarters. You wake Minerva— or, no, she is already occupied by her usual routine of restless pacing, tugging at her tartan dressing-gown. While she does interrogate you a bit crossly, you can tell she empathises with your ‘insomnia.’

After that you gulp down a contraceptive and stumble into bed, boneless and weary. You don’t cry at all, though you feel that you probably should.

In a way, you’re glad that Minerva doesn’t appear concerned or worried for you. That means she hasn’t found out. There was a persistent paranoia in the back of your mind that she had, that Minerva had seen or heard or sensed it somehow.

You wonder if she’d feel disgusted, or if she would simply pity you. Maybe that would be worse.

You flick your wand and flush out the light.

No. No one needs to know what you’ve done.

A month passes. The grip of winter releases its hold, and spring emerges in its wake, fresh and pure. It’s as if you can finally breathe again.

You hope that you do not imagine the way your student’s faces regain some semblance of warmth. You hope you do not imagine the unmarred bodies, mercifully free from wounds. You also hope that it is not their own schemes or plans that embolden them.

They should leave those matters to you.

Somehow, it feels like the nightmare is almost over. But not yet. Not yet. You still await your orders, and nurse lofty dreams of freedom in your heart.

When night falls, you strip off your underclothes and climb the spiral staircase once more. It is not excitement that tightens your chest, but it is also not dread. Perhaps something else you also do not understand, and cannot afford to think of now.

Headmaster Snape is standing by his desk. You realise he’s been waiting for you. He has that strange, mystifying look in his eyes again.

He offers you a hand.

“Come here,” he says.

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midnightarcheress · 5 days

Text

you panic.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: reader's pov. panic attack, simon in protective mode, hurt/comfort ig? 6 | gold rush masterlist.

you couldn’t breathe. the room seemed small, walls closing in and trapping your limp figure inside of an endless nightmare, compressing your lungs until no air reached your alveolus. the mirror reflected the terror stamped on your face, bloodshot eyes staring at the terrifying warning that froze your blood flow and the trembling hands clutching to your arms, wrapping your torso like a straightjacket, desperately trying to pressure your body into disappearing from that reality.

up to this point, you’ve managed to control your fear. shove your worries aside, trust that nothing would trespass your walls and infinite security measures, promise yourself that it would never infest your brain, but that was the last straw. it was your home. you weren’t safe anywhere and it was just a matter of time until you’d be ripped to shreds in your own garden, crimson painting the destroyed flower beds and a golden crown placed on your head like a perfect corpse-bride.

your knees dropped to the frigid floor with a thud, dreadful mist clouding your vision as tears rolled down your cheeks. you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak, and the alcohol in your veins only managed to heighten the panic. your soul was floating out of your form, knocking on the bars of the prison, looking for a way out of the ordeal and hoping that it was just a hallucination. the loud thumps of your heart ringed in your ears, muffling Ghost’s attempts to get your attention.

the knot in your throat kept tightening, constricting your vocal cords until the only sounds that could be heard were your strained sobs. being in your own skin was overwhelming and you’d give it all to escape the well you were stranded in, but the water was rising quickly, covering your head and drowning any attempt at tranquillity.

“hey, i’m here,” Ghost said, trying to coax you back to the present, “just focus on my voice, can you take a deep breath for me?”

your dilated pupils take the sight of him crouched on the floor and follow the movement of his chest, letting his low timbre pierce your eardrum and soothe your heartbeat. you mimic him, feeling the crisp air cursing through your nostrils, down your trachea and bronchi, finally having enough oxygen in your system.

“can i touch you?” he asks, and you notice the concern behind his hazel irises. you can’t ignore the shame that came with your panicked state, breaking down in front of someone you barely know and who must’ve endured so much worse in his life. you hate feeling weak, frail, like you’d crumble by just one look, but you need comfort. need it so badly that you nod, allowing him to take your quivering hand in his.

his grip is firm, and despite the roughness of his palm, the touch is delicate, tender, enveloping you in gentle heat. you melt in his arms, pitiful sobs leaving your lips when you turn in nothing more than putty in that moment. “shh, i got you, everything will be alright,” he coos, doing his best to calm you, but you couldn’t believe him.

how could everything be alright? the last ounce of safety you had was just taken from you. “it’s my– it’s my home, Ghost,” you stutter, lifting your head to look at him, “i’m not safe in my own home anymore, i can’t–” another wave of tears flood your waterline, and you stop before finishing your sentence. the anxiety was still bubbling in your stomach, it was still too much to handle at once.

“i know, love, i’ll get you out of here, trust me. nothing will harm you. now just breathe, okay? slow and steady.” his tone is light, almost ethereal, but unmistakably determined. it sounded more than just a phrase to pacify you. it was a promise. a vow. one made with his whole heart and he wouldn’t die before making sure you’re safe.

it takes a while before your brain settles back, slipping out of the hysteria. Ghost lifts you to your feet, taking a step back to give you some space. you sense him studying your expressions, wanting a hint of how to proceed. “what do you need?” he questions softly.

what do i need? the query lingers on your mind while he gazes at you. you're not sure. you never had an attack like this, never had an emotional collapse, never needed so much comfort. “i... don't know,” you gulp, glancing around the room and viewing the bathroom door, “i guess i could go for, uhm, a bath? it might help, right?”

he nods, pacing past you and walking through the door. you faintly hear the running water filling the bathtub and you strip off your heels, your clothes, let your hair fall down and your skin feel the cool air of the room. you shiver, but the tingling of the cold reminds you that you’re still alive, so there’s still a flimsy hope of peace in your future.

you put on a robe and head to the bathroom, tip-toeing on the chilling tiles. Ghost moves to the exit, allowing you privacy in your vulnerable state, but your meek request makes him freeze on the spot. “can you... stay?” you sigh, “i’m scared of being alone right now.”

he pauses, not knowing how to answer, and you shift your weight from one leg to another, fingers fidgeting with the fluffy belt that holds your covering in place, regretting even asking for such a thing. “sure.” he clears his throat, taking a seat in the tiny wooden ottoman in the corner. the image is quite comical, the bulky man slowly leaning down to the stool as if one glance from him would crack the material, and a timid chuckle escapes your mouth.

his face turns to the side when you undo the knot of your robe and you feel the heat coming to your cheeks when you come to your senses. what the fuck did i ask? you’re bare, slipping into the warm water that was supposed to relieve your anxious mood, but that mainly swells your chest with embarrassment.

you don’t know if you should be grateful that he’s not making a big deal of it, or sink in the tub due to the quiet – too quiet – atmosphere. Ghost is nothing but a gentleman at that moment, maintaining his head down and eyes away from your blurred naked body, so different from every man you’ve been near. they all seem to think that because you’re known, famous, whatever, you’re merely a doll on display for public use. it’s nice to not feel like an object.

after a long hour of letting the water purge your anguishes, you find yourself draped on a blanket on the sofa, sipping on a cup of chamomile tea that he, so heartily, prepared. he’s on the phone in the next room, and you don’t want to pry, but your ears unconsciously perk up to catch some of his words. he’s talking to someone named Price? something about a safe house?

a few minutes later, he’s back, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. “so, we’re gonna move,” your brows raised, confused by his statement, “talked to an old friend and i got you a safe place, you can stay there as long as you need, the bastard won’t find you. and i’ll be there with you all the time, okay?” he’s gonna stay with me?

rationally, you know it’s a good idea. you don’t feel protected in your house anymore, and having him constantly by your side would probably give your heart a rest and unburden your shoulders. but moving is a big thing for a life so regulated. “Dan–”

“i’ll talk to him tomorrow, don’t worry,” he assures, putting a hand on your knee and giving you a small smile. your vision was so hazy before that you didn’t even notice that he had his mask down, and you find yourself musing on the curve of his lips.

“thank you, Ghost.”

185 notes · View notes

buttercupagere · 10 months

Text

“why do you use that stuff?”

if someone irl has just found some of your regression items, but you aren’t ready to tell them you regress, here are some reasons you can give.

(cw: mention of panic attacks, mention of smoking / vaping, mention of portion sizes)

pacifiers

💗 “it helps me stop biting my nails / chewing on my lips / chewing on the inside of my mouth”

💗 “i use it to stop myself from snoring at night”

💗 “i tend to breathe through my mouth when i sleep, a pacifier forces me to breathe through my nose”

💗 “it gives me something to chew on / orally stim with”

💗 “when i have panic attacks, it helps me remember to focus on my breathing”

💗 “it’s not mine, it’s my baby cousin’s” (this one may only work if it’s a baby pacifier)

💗 “i’m trying to quit smoking / vaping, this helps satisfy my urge to have something in my mouth”

sippy cups / baby bottles

🍼 “i have fine motor issues and struggle drinking from open-mouthed cups”

🍼 “i’m clumsy and tend to knock over my drinks easily, these are spill-proof”

🍼 “it’s not mine, it’s my baby cousin’s” (again, this may only work if it’s clearly meant for babies)

🍼 “i need a straw to drink, but i don’t want to use plastic ones, and other reusable alternatives all have drawbacks”

🍼 “i tend to drink too fast and it makes me sick, these force me to drink slower”

kids dishes / utensils

🥣 “it helps me control my portion sizes”

🥣 “i don’t like it when my food touches each other, this plate has walls that keeps my food apart” (this one only works if it’s a sectioned plate)

🥣 “this character / design is really nostalgic for me”

🥣 “it’s not mine, it’s my baby cousin’s”

🥣 “i tend to take too-big bites, these utensils force me to slow down and take smaller ones”

🥣 “i prefer smaller utensils, and these are the only ones i could find”

kids coloring books

🖍️ “i need to color to calm myself down from anxiety sometimes, and these are more exciting than adult ones”

🖍️ “this show / these characters are really nostalgic for me”

🖍️ “i babysit, and i need something to help entertain the kids”

🖍️ “i have fine motor issues and it’s easier for me to stay in the lines with coloring books meant for kids”

🖍️ “oh, that was mine when i was a kid, but i thought it was cute so i didn’t throw it away” (this one only works if it’s an older coloring book)

#age regression #agere #agere life hacks #agere tips #tips #life hacks #advice

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pokidot · 1 year

Text

ROSES — prologue

wc: 1,688

Despite everything, the recollection you remember the least was being asleep in this moment.

You stirred frequently in between your attempts of further slumber, but your eyes refused to rest longer in your abrupt wake. As your eyes pried opened, they were met with a bright, blinding light that seemed to engulf your vision overwhelmingly. You were taken aback, the sudden pierce through your vision like glass shards caused you to almost seethe. You instantly shot your hand up towards your face in defense.

The sudden shock prompted you to wince and shield your eyes with your arm. The light had an almost tangible quality to it, as if it was a physical force pushing against the inner recoil of your head, you felt like other than you, your conscious was also struggling to wake up.

There was nothing in your ears other than what you assumed was the television blaring light noise that felt like it was clearer than any given day.

You weren’t following it much, but you heard that it was getting a bit dramatic as soon as the scene progressed. There was a reverberating slap to come from it as well, with a woman shouting ‘how dare you!’, filling the room with a weighty and ominous timbre that tingled your senses.

You unintentionally give out a tiny grunt, which was followed by a mysterious gasp coming from your right side.

"Oh my~" A sweet, and mildly sarcastic sounding tone voiced out from the side she wasn't looking. "I never pegged you for someone to sleep for so long."

Upon wondering why that voice sounded so familiar to you, your eyes opened once they were ready. But you only were met with bedlam; you were greeted with a serene and calm, porcelain colored room. This was definitely not the location you pictured yourself to be in, but it was better than the thought of being in a bomb shelter.

The harsh light filtering in from the window casted a forbearing glow across the room, illuminating the unblemished white walls and linens with solar rays. The murmur of medical equipment permeated the air, making a pacifying ambiance that was undoubtedly foreign.

The room was quiet other than the male's voice who had sauntered over and into her eye view. "(L/N)." His eyes were low and clear of suspicion, as a playful twinkle was the only thing in his eyes that suggests he was ready for whatever you threw at him. "Welcome back, champion. You sure took a long fall."

The only other sound being the gentle beep of a heart monitor and the rustling of your sheets as you slowly moved to sit up. You took in your surroundings, gaze drifting to the man in front of you with just a short and drawling response. “Uh..”

“Don’t worry about how you got here just yet. I assure you, everything is fine now.” His kind, warm smile put you at mild ease but you nodded slowly. He offered you a hand to shake. “My name is Dr. Baizhu, I’ve been making sure you’re healthy for the past few months.”

The various machines that surrounded her admittedly put you in a state of confusion along with his proclamation. “Thank…you?” You sounded dazed, extending your hand to meet with his.

You blinked several times, trying to clear the haze you saw. Gradually, the shapes and colors in the room began to not look like blurry heaps of circles. It was a hospital room. The bright lights and beeping machines made her wince. It was then that she realized that she was lying in a hospital bed, with an IV drip inserted in her arm.

“You must be confused.” Your self proclaimed doctor stared at you, but his eyes softened this time around.

“Just a little bit…” You tried to move your arms, but they felt numb and unresponsive. The thin white blanket that was draped over you hardly hides the hospital gown. “I have a lot of questions.”

“I’m sure. I know that these sorts of tasks are too much on even a patient, so we’ll start simple. With…how are you feeling right now?” You didn’t know how he was doing it, but Baizhu was making your anxieties melt away like snowflakes in the sun, replaced by a sense of peace and serenity that you were lucky you were greeted with.

But it didn’t etch the fact that there was something wrong. “I feel…” Your thoughts started to roam for a specific word, but your head felt like it was empty.

Though the longer you took to articulate how you felt in that moment, it became clearer to your doctor. While he didn’t express that at the time, the smile that was on his face faltered a bit in response. “Do you remember anything that happened to you before you were here?”

You slowly shook your head. “It’s like…I wasn’t here for a while. And then I come back, and I feel like I’m supposed to remember who I am. But I don’t.”

Baizhu hummed in acknowledgment, tapping his tall fingers against his lap to think as he looked at you. “I see,” He paused, “In the past eleven years I’ve spent in this field, your case was the most unique. You were transferred to four consecutive hospitals in different nations for your recovery. Usually there are people who’d stop at nothing to forget their past, but you have useful history that you didn’t just choose to not remember…” The thought alone left him to sigh.

“Did I inconvenience you, Doctor?”

“Of course not. I am just lamenting.” His voice was soothing, like the sound of a distant lullaby, and his words were imbued with a sense of compassion that seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of safety despite his previous morbidity. “Tell me. Do you remember anybody? Family? Friends?”

You sat with furrowed brows, a perplexed expression etched on your face, as if trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces instantly. Your brain was a labyrinth, with fragmented memories and fleeting thoughts that eluded your grasp.

You struggled to speak of any semblance of familiarity or recollection that wasn’t what you grew up with, like a barren wasteland, devoid of any landmarks or signposts to guide you. “My parents…grandparents…” You slowly drawled.

“Oh my god.”

The lack thereof of your train of thought was cut off as soon as you hear footsteps rush towards your room in a quick fashion. And a familiar face appeared in your line of vision. His blond hair in which he had some of it tied back perfectly to keep it out his face, his bright, yet broken red eyes.

You weren’t sure who he was, but with how he was ecstatic to see you, his comforting presence was like a balm to your troubled mind. It made you believe that there was more to you as Baizhu was mentioning.

Without a word, he approached the bed with a straightaway and pulled you into a gentle embrace, wrapping his arms around you in a glimmer of happiness.

"Oh god, (Y/N)..." He was practically beaming, while feeling drops of his relieving tears come in contact with your fabrics. "You're okay!" The feeling of his body pressed against yours was familiar and reassuring, like a beacon of light in the darkness. But you didn't know why you felt the way you did.

As far as you were concerned, this was just a guy hugging you. Which is why you didn't hug back, but you did cautiously dawdled your body against him. Just so he didn't seem suspicious.

"Yeah." You were familiar with the scent as well, an invigorating burst of citrus on a hot summer day. Deep and sensual, like an earthy aroma, you couldn't help but take an inhale that you felt like you haven't taken in such a long time. "I'm okay."

But it was safe to say he caught on as soon as the reluctance on your face showed, the source of warmth and reassurance in the otherwise cold and sterile hospital environment fizzling. The mysterious blond, while quite the handsome man, relinquished his grip from you to look back at Baizhu.

"What's happened to them?" He asked, suspiciously.

"For you..." Baizhu attempted to make an easy way to break it to him. "The least likely answer you want."

"No..." Like stone, the blond's heart sank; the doctor didn't have to say anything for him to know. And the realization crashed over him like a tidal wave. His mind raced as equally as his heart as he visibly attempted to come to terms.

But he still wanted to remain in denial as he squeezed your shoulders. "You have to remember me, right? I'm your boyfriend, (Y/N)! Your boyfriend! It's me, Kaveh!"

Even with the tactile feeling he brought, you had no idea how to respond to him, because even if he was telling the truth you couldn't fathom an actual link to it. You furrowed your brows, eyes moving to look at anything but him.

"Try not to distress them. They just woke up." Baizhu subtly interrupted him, approaching the two himself. "Perhaps we should speak more about this outside."

Kaveh swallowed the lump in his throat looking at you for a last time before he removed his hands. "Sorry, (Y/N), I didn't mean to..." He tried to finish, in a moment of anguish, refused to look at you as well as he walked out of the door.

But your eyes went back to him once the two of them headed towards the door. You saw his now sluggish and tense appearance in his walk, one he didn't have before entering.

Though your memory was a vessel you lost somehow, there was still a tinge of guilt you felt with a vengeance. A cruel master that shackled you to your past. The air around you suddenly felt heavy and oppressive now that you were alone, as if it was a now reminder of something you didn't factor in before.

You...had a life before this.

masterlist

NOTES || i had notes for this story back in march, but when i went back to them recently, it was all jumbled up and illegible. now idk what past me was doing, but all i could really do was blink slowly at it now...and put it back in my bag until i was mentally ready to open that can of worms. i am NOW mentally ready to open the can of worms! thank you so much for the patience if you were waiting for this, i really appreciate it

TAGLIST || @xirthia @wisteriarain @dreamsofminnie

#✮ emily writes #genshin fanfic #genshin modern au #genshin smau #self insert #smau #social media au #genshin #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh #alhaitham #alhaithan x y/n #alhaitham x you #kaveh x y/n #kaveh x you

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jjtheresidentbaby · 2 years

Note

hey I’m the anon who sent in the ask about jj’s guilt and anxiety with Morgan and Reid, the one you ended up writing and titled it ‘mess up’

I’m back with another request — hotch and Emily taking care of a really young regressed jj after her kidnapping from the 200 episode. she keeps crying and barely eats, having major separation anxiety when it comes to Emily bc she hallucinated Emily saving her over anybody else (ahem her own husband).

in the show, they all went out for drinks after they rescued her and it was one of the most unrealistic things I’ve ever seen. no one goes to a bar after saving their friend from kidnappers who tortured their friend but cm writers think it’s perfectly fine. we deserve to see jj being taken care of instead of having her say “I’m fine” all the time. they seem to forget she’s not only the youngest in her family but also one of the youngest on the team, youngest girl even. But they reduce her to a maternal figure role just bc she had a child in the show. she’s literally baby.

also if I could go by ⚽️ since jj was a soccer star in the show?

Here | Jennifer Jareau x Emily Prentiss x Aaron Hotchner

a/n: we’re going to pretend Will and Jj’s kids don’t exist in this, for plot purposes (also new favorite trio? New favorite trio.)

a/n.2: oh ⚽️ anon we are best friends now, you are just the smartest person <3 I agree with you on all points and yes Jj is baby and deserves to be cared for properly unlike how the show has failed her, the only instance I can think of Jj getting the care I think she needs is in that one episode where Will makes her breakfast while she talks him through how rough a certain case was for her (one of my fav episodes)

warnings: referenced torture/kidnapping, crying, Jj having struggles with eating, pacifiers, finger sucking

───°˖✧✿✧˖° ───

“Come on baby, just one bite?” Hotch pleads, holding out a spoonful of oatmeal to Jj, usually one of her comfort food, it doesn’t seem to be working today, his brow knits together in worry when Jj shakes her head with a huff of disapproval.

She fell into a deep regression the second Emily and Aaron were able to get the blonde home, it’s been a struggle to get her to be inches away from Emily, she’s yet to disclose if there’s a real reason to her clingy-ness to Prentiss aside from the normal comfort reasons but Hotch has a hunch there’s something more to it.

“Has she eaten anything?” Aaron shakes his head up to Emily, her lips purse, eyes tracking over to how Jj’s sat on the couch with a blanket wrapped around herself as tight as possible and two of her fingers resting in her mouth.

She had complained about being cold, which is what Emily would suspect as the girls hair was wet when they found her, but that was hours ago. She’s showered fresh and clean, her hairs been blow dried by Aaron, it’s tied back into a low ponytail, the heats even switched on, Prentiss can’t think of anything that’s making Jj cold yet she huddles into the blanket like she’s freezing.

“Sweet girl, aren’t you hungry?” Prentiss crouches in front of the couch -trying to ignore the urge to check Jj’s temperature for the umpteenth time even though it’s been normal every time- Emily glances worriedly over to Hotch when Jj shuffles back on the sofa with a soft whine.

“Okay. Can we at least get you a pacifier? Your fingers are yucky.” That gets nod which Emily is very thankful for as Jj keeps clinging to her hair and she’d rather not have slobber stuck in it.

“There we go sweetheart, better now.” Aaron settles a pastel blue pacifier into Jj’s mouth easily, her not spit covered hand reaching out for both of her caregivers before Emily shuffles the girl up to her hip.

“Do you wanna talk about it or just sit on the couch?” A muzzle of Jj’s head into Prentiss’s neck is the only response they get, Hotch flips a movie on quickly, silently hoping it’ll calm how teary eyed Jj’s looked since they got home.

Eventually Jj ends up shuffled between Hotch and Emily, her head resting on Prentiss’s shoulder while her legs bend to fall atop Hotchs, she’s shifted quite a few times but always ends up pressed against Emily. Hotch doesn’t take offense, it’s been hard for all three of them to know what Jj’s gone through, he can only imagine what Jj’s mind has been running with, so he’s willing to offer any comfort she needs.

“I- I saw Em when I was there.” The first words Jj’s spoken since they got her out of those chains, she doesn’t look to either caregiver, instead she takes the pacifier out of her mouth to fiddle with the holder on the back.

“You saw me?” Prentiss has to make sure she’s understanding correctly, she thinks she is, Aaron seems to be too, they make split concerned eye contact.

“Mm. You were there, you put- put your hand on my face and told me it’d be okay but- but it hurt really bad and- and you disappeared. You were there but then you weren’t, I don’t want to be alone again.” Tears slowly drop from the blondes eyes, her chin trembling and chest heaving harshly with a suck in of air.

“Oh baby, I am right here. We are both right here, we’re not going anywhere and you are not going to be alone.” Emily’s hand cradles the side of Jj’s jaw, her thumb brushing the stray tears away. Hotch takes to tucking the fleece blanket up around Jj even tighter, his own tears built and ready to fall, only to pause his action when Jj’s careful hand takes Hotchs.

“I don’t wanna go back there.” Jennifer stutters the words out, a shake prominent in her voice and hands that she grips over her caregivers.

“You never will, you are staying right here with us, safe and sound.” Aaron cuts in, his voice wobbles slightly but he hopes Jj doesn’t hear it, he squeezes the girls hand before reaching his other for Prentiss, they all cling to each other.

“We’re all right here, it’s okay.”

#jj writes #criminal minds agere #little!jj #caregiver!hotch #caregiver!emily #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jj x emily x hotch #⚽️ anon

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puppiesplayhouse · 9 months

Text

🐶ａｂｏｕｔｍｅ🐶

💫-Big age 22

💫-pronouns he/she im gender fluid when I’m not

little

💫- interests of mine: video games :3

I play overwatch,

mariokart, it takes two, farcry, dead by daylight

💫-I have severe general anxiety, depression, trauma and autism (this is my coping mechanism after five years of looking for a therapist for so many issues I found one before recently someone asks)

💫-tone tags aren’t usually needed for me and I may

come off rough at times

💫-I suffer from migraines as well and don’t have

very good health overall so my responses are slow and typing isn’t my strong suit

💫-im hoping despite my weak health I can be a

Doctor or help doing something medical hands on!

🎀ｌｉｋｅｓ& ｄｉｓｌｉｋｅｓ🎀

ｌｉｋｅｓ

🧸Stuffies!! Theyre a huge comfort to me all

the time.

🧸Animal: Bears!! Especially pandas but I love kitties too.

🧸Drawing: I love drawing my furry oc Puppie when I have motivation and able to! I do furries and horsies

🧸Sensory toys! Slime is my favorite to play with

🧸Food: chicken nuggies is my favorite to eat with choccy shakes

🧸Colors: pastels/black &teal

🧸Song genre: hyperpop/Electronic

🧸Fandoms I’m in : Hazbin Hotel, Star Wars, Furry, Marvel, Furry, Mlp

🧸Favorite movie: Ratatouille

ｄｉｓｌｉｋｅｓ

🫧Food: Veggies

🫧Color: yellow

🫧Weather: Summer

🫧Loud noises

🫧Animal: Butterflies

🧸ｌｉｔｔｌｅｍｅ🧸

🌸 Little Age: 3-4

🌸pronouns: she/ her

🌸interests : Coloring, making tea parties!! Pretend

cooking, stickers , dress up, dollhouse, playing doctor , pretend princess, bubble baths, Pacifier (I’d love to show you all depending how well this goes!)

🌸I have an mlp little oc just for when i regress and

want to color! Her name is lullaby c:

🖍ｌｉｔｔｌｅｌｉｋｅｓ &ｄｉｓｌｉｋｅｓ🖍

ｌｉｋｅｓ

🐇cartoon: Max&Ruby, Blues Clues (the older ones),

Bluey, Oswald, Oobi, Backyardigans, Maggie & The ferocious Beast, Curious George, Miffy and Friends, Dora, 64 Zoo Lane, Baby Looney Tunes

🐇Song: Dora The Explorer theme song or The backyardigans theme song

🐇Color: Pastel Pink

🐇Animal: Bunnies

🐇Soft fuzzy things! Like fleece blankie or stuffies

🐇Soft voices are so soothing princess songs from snow white are soo calming

🐇Food: crackers and juice or warm milk with

cinnamon

🐇disney movie: Moana &Tangled

🐇favorite Disney princess: Snow White

🐇Audio bedtime stories: Rainy Day Audios

🐇book: Goldilocks and the three bears

🐇song: Hawaiin rollercoaster

ｄｉｓｌｉｋｅｓ

👑-Loud sounds and voices

👑-NAPS

👑-having to do certain things

👑- Having to try new things

ｐｌｅａｓｅｄｎｉ

If you support/are : AbleisM , r4cism, ped øphilia, ddlG , anti-agere ,sExism, anti Lg bt,etc

Thankies to anyone who read this far here’s a cookie or a bottle :3

🍪🍼

13 notes · View notes

rolling-restart · 1 year

Note

i saw your pairing post, so i thiught why not send you my little idea.

Basically just Lewis/Lando, with little!lando and just a whole lot of fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort.

Would love to read sth along the lines of this because i had a bit of a sh*tty day…

ps. absolutely love your blog 🫶

Okay so,

I’m sorry you had a shit day and thank you so much for your kind words! Here it is:

Lewis is not a natural-born caregiver. Even though he loves to take care of his nephews and nieces, taking responsibility of a little still scares him because it involves much many intricate details to take care of and he is totally terrified of the task as much as he wants to experience it for himself and for Lando.

Lando, on the other hand, is used to being little and much more comfortable in his designation. However, he has his own reservations. He knows it’s a terrifying place to be with someone whom he never scened with before. He would be completely vulnerable and maybe this anxiety prevents him from getting in the space easily.

They are still up to try it, though because since Lando opened up about it, there is nothing more Lewis wanted to do than just seeing Lando happy and in his element. It’s important for Lando too, because he needs this dynamic to make their relationship work. Otherwise he is afraid of never feeling at ease and satisfied. He didn’t choose to be like this and even though he is quite proud of his coping mechanisms, it’s still incredibly difficult to show that side of you to someone, even when you love and trust them.

Lewis does his homework. He has a vague idea about how young Lando regresses and he readies tons of age-appropriate toys, clothes, bibs and pacifiers. He even gets some diapers just in case something unexpected comes their way. He lines them all up nicely in the living room for Lando’s arrival.

Lando’s reaction is nothing like he expected. The moment he sees the setup and an anxious Lewis in the living room, tears just runs to his eyes. He expected Lewis to be careful and attentive but the extent of preparation is just overwhelming to Lando. The stack of cartoon DVDs is his last straw.

Lewis is absolutely horrified with his reaction, though.

“Did I do something wrong? Do you want it to stop??”

Lando shakes his head with a little smile.

“No, nupe, it’s just… It’s so nice that you took it this seriously.”

He doesn’t want to talk about his sub-par experience with careless and cruel caregivers in the past but just the attention to detail is enough to break him.

They take it easy. Lewis gently changes Lando into more comfortable and colourful clothes while they giggle about how cute it looks on Lando. Lando requires a lot of cuddling time, even more than Lewis imagined. He thought little Lando would he more on the hyperactive side but honestly he didn’t know what to expect. The little stays glued to Lewis’s side at any given time.

Dinner is a little bit bumpier than the rest. Not because Lando is trying to be difficult but he suddently wants to eat on his own and starts stomping. Lewis is not completely at a loss of words but he instinctively knows that it’s not a good idea. After a ruined onesie and absolutely smashed vegetables, Lando lets Lewis take charge and they survive the incident.

Of course, Lando falls asleep on the couch, cuddled up to Lewis tightly, his thumb in his mouth. Lewis pauses the cartoon to carry Lando to bed. Of course, he wakes up while Lewis carries him bridal style and starts fussing. How can it be possible for him to stay asleep without Lewie on his side?

#answered asks #little!drivers #little!lando #caregiver!lewis #nsfw.#fluff #ln #lh

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littletail · 1 year

Note

Fairy tail regression scenario..Caregiver! Gray Fullbuster and Little! Juvia Lockser..Little! Juvia Lockser (she regressed maybe around 3-4 years old) wondering off in public after Gray specifically told her to stay right next to him (he told her not to wonder off) because it was the weekend and there was a massive crowd in Mongolia and the last thing that Gray wanted was to lose his little in the crowd. Little! Juvia did kinda get into trouble with Caregiver! Gray Fullbuster for wondering off and for not listening to his instructions..Gray had been scared and had every right to be..

Hello again! I finally got the story done, and I hope you enjoy it!

Lost Raindrop

“Alright. It’s a bit busy today, so I’m going to need you to stay right by my side, okay?” Gray had said.

“Juvi will!” she had assured, and in her defense, she really did try! It wasn’t her fault she was easily distracted by things. Especially when she was being a good girl by getting her Papa a present!

“Papa! Papa, look- huh?” Juvia glanced around, trying to find even the slightest glimpse of Gray (She could’ve sworn he was right there!), but she didn’t see him whatsoever.

“P-Papa? Papa!” she called, glancing around a bit more frantically, while holding the new toy to her chest. “Where’d you go, Papa?” she slowly ventured out into the crowd.

She sniffled, hugging the doll tighter as she roamed through the crowded streets, “Papa!” she kept calling, hoping one of these times, he’d answer. But she never heard him.

“Papa..!” she cried, pressing a hand to her eyes, trying to wipe away the tears as they formed.

‘Don’t panic.. What does Papa always tell Juvi to do when she gets lost?’ she thought, then remembered, ‘Deep breaths and.. ask for help!’

Through a few hiccups, she tried to take in a few deep, albeit shaky, breaths. Once her anxiety was lessened somewhat, she wiped her eyes again before attempting to speak up.

“Hello?” she looked around at the people around her, “H-hello?”

With minimal luck, she kept trying. Everyone either couldn’t tell her what she wanted to know at best, or outright ignored her at worst.

With a heavy sigh, she tried one last time, “Hello? C-can somebody help Juvi?”

“Juvia?”

Juvia whirled around, immediately meeting the gaze of a familiar blonde woman. “What are you doing out here by yourself? I thought you were with Gray,” Lucy said, worry evident in her eyes.

“Juvi was! And Juvi promised she wouldn’t leave Papa’s side! But Juvi saw something she wanted to buy for Papa as a gift and when she turned around, he was gone!” she wailed.

“Hey, don’t panic,” Lucy pulled the distraught Little into a hug, “We’ll find him together, okay? And if we can’t find him out here, we’ll just go back to the Guildhall and wait for him there. But for now, let’s try to get you cheered up.”

Juvia sniffled and nodded, “O-okay.. Juvi feels bad..”

“Don’t feel bad,” Lucy said, taking the other girl’s hand.

“What if Papa gets really upset? Juvi promised..”

“You know Gray would never get really upset with you,” Lucy assured.

“He must be so worried..” Juvia said quietly.

“But he’ll be happy knowing that you were safe, at least!”

Juvia nodded, sniffling. “Juvi just wanted to be a good girl..”

“You are! We all find ourselves getting lost every now and then, it’s nothing to feel bad about,” Lucy said. “And I’m sure Gray will enjoy the gift you give him.”

“If he’s not mad at Juvi..”

“He won’t be! Gray just doesn't get angry with people, especially not his own Little," Lucy assured.

Juvia nodded again, but still looked unsure. She slipped her thumb into her mouth slightly.

“Ah ah, we don’t stick fingers in our mouths, okay?” Lucy gently removed it. “Do you have your paci with you?”

“Too old for it. Juvi’s four!”

“None of us are too old to have a comfort item,” Lucy assured. Juvia looked away for a moment, before taking her handbag and pulling her pacifier out of it. Lucy smiled, “Good!”

Juvia smiled slightly as she slipped the soother into her mouth.

“Want to get some ice cream?” Lucy asked, “I think it would work wonders for a pick-me-up!” she grinned.

Juvia nodded again.

Gajeel walked through the market, hands in his pockets, as he listened to the manic ramblings of the Caregiver following behind him. He couldn't say he blamed the guy, since it was slowly getting late and they had still yet to find Juvia, but Gajeel trusted his Rainy Guildmate, and the guilty ramblings weren't helping anybody.

“All I did was turn my back for a second and she was just gone. Oh God, how could I let this happen? I’m the worst Caregiver in the world-”

“Oi!” Gajeel interrupted, putting an abrupt stop to the other’s ramblings. “Calm down. You are far from the worst Caregiver I’ve met, and she’s still in Magnolia, so nothing seriously bad is going to happen to her. Worst case scenario, she’s probably just a little bit spooked right now, but I assure you, Juvia’s tough.”

“Even when she’s feeling Little?” Gray asked.

“Yes, even then,” Gajeel said. When Gray didn’t look convinced, he sighed and said, “Look, I know how ya feel. It’s really scary now, but I promise you, everything will go back to normal once you two are reunited. Granted, you might feel a bit more vigilant than usual for some time afterwards.”

“Ain’t that the truth..” Gray sighed.

“But this doesn’t make you a bad Caregiver to her. These things can happen to anybody. You just need to stay calm and think rationally,” the Iron Dragon explained.

Gray chuckled lightly, “I never thought I’d be getting this kind of advice from you, of all people, to be honest.”

“Yeah? Well, we’re all full of surprises, ain’t we? Gihi!”

Gray scoffed lightly with a smirk and rolled his eyes slightly, only to look down at the ground, lost in thought for a long few moments.

“I swear.. I’m going to take her home and never let her out of my sight again,” Gray stated. “I feel so guilty, it’s like I can even hear her voice..”

“Papa!”

“Wait.. You heard that too, right?” Gray looked up at Gajeel. The tall Dragon smirked.

“Papa! Over here, Papa!”

His head whirled around so quickly that it hurt his neck, but he didn’t care. He instantly spotted Juvia with Lucy as the two of them sat outside the Guildhall with ice cream in hand.

“What took you so long?” Lucy giggled lightly.

“Juvia!” he laughed, running over and wrapping his arms around her.

“Papa! Papa! Juvi so so so sorry! She didn’t mean to-” she rambled on.

“Shh.. Easy.. Everything is okay now. But when we get home, we are going to have a talk about today because you worried me sick!” he explained, his voice slightly hardened as he let go, gently pushing her away so he could see her face. Juvia slumped somewhat, “Juvi really sorry.. She.. She wanted to give you this,” she held up the toy she bought.

“That’s why you wandered off?” Gray asked quietly, gently taking it and looking it over. After a moment, he smiled, “Such a thoughtful little one. Thank you, Sweetheart.. But we’re still going to have a long talk. Now you know what happens when you get separated from Papa in large crowds. We'll go over whatever it takes to make sure it doesn't happen again, okay?"

Juvia nodded, smiling. She was just happy to have her Papa back.

#littletail #request #caregiver!gray #little!juvia #lucy heartifilla #gajeel redfox #sfw agere

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aeoneri · 2 years

Text

[What We Don’t See] Chapter 41: La Historia de un Amor

Summary:

Bruno and Gabriela meet again. -- Written in Bruno's POV. -- Listen to this song towards the end of this chapter: Eydie Gormé and Trío Los Panchos: Historia de un amor

++++

We come back down moments later when we notice the stars in the night sky. I don’t say anything as we make our way to Señora Guzmán’s place. Even with the botched proposal, they were still kind enough to let us stay for however long we need.

“Bruno?” Pepa says as we pass a familiar road. “Don’t hate me for this, but I have an idea.”

“What?” I ask cautiously when she leads us in another direction. “What idea?”

Realization hits Julieta like a ton of bricks, but I remain clueless. “This is crazy, Pepa! Your worst yet!”

“What? What’s going on?” My eyes dart between my sisters. “What’s a crazy idea?”

“It’ll work.” Pepa insists. “We’re both here, I doubt they’ll do anything to Brunito.”

“Who’s going to do something to me?” I panic. I have a bad feeling about this.

Julieta sighs. “If this fails, you owe Bruno an apology, you understand, Pepita?”

“Sé que sé. If what my mija says is true, then we might get the answers we’ve been looking for if Bruno himself shows up at their door.”

I yelp when they drag me along. “Wait! Wait! Where are we going now?” Their grip on me is tight and my anxiety kicks in. “Mamá might be looking for us. Not to mention, your esposos and niños?” I try to deter them from hatching whatever plan Pepa has thought up. A moment later we stop in front of someone’s house. Julieta knocks on the door.

“Quit squirming, Bruno,” Pepa hisses at me as the door opens.

“¿Qué? Julieta Madrigal?”

I hate being right. This is worse than bad.

“Buenos noches, Señor Mauricio,” Julieta begins with an awkward smile. “Um…we just came by and…”

Pepa unceremoniously pushes me forward. All I can hear is a nervous thump in my ears when I come face to face with Gabriela’s family. Señor Mauricio stares at me. Que carajo. My sisters brought me to La Casa Álvarez.

I barely have enough time to react before a fist comes flying toward my face.

“Bruno!” My sisters scream in shock when the Señor hits me. I fall to the ground, blinking up at his furious expression.

I deserved that.

“You have some nerve showing up here!” He yells. “I thought I didn’t hear it right, but apparently the rumors were true!”

He comes rushing to strike again before someone holds him back.

“Papá, why are you…”

Julián comes into view. His eyes grow wide when he sees me.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you’d show your face.” Señor Mauricio spat, fighting back against his son’s grip. “I warned you you’d answer to me if you did anything to my daughter!”

I say nothing.

“Señor, por favor, if you could just let my brother explain…” Julieta tries to pacify the tension, but he ignores her. I raise a hand to stop my sisters from intervening. “Don’t speak for me, Julieta. Stay back.”

There’s no avoiding the wrath I’ve incurred for my past mistakes, except taking it with grace. I endure the harsh words thrown my way. “My family has been nothing but good to you Madrigals, but you…you, demonio,” The Señor points a finger at me, seething. “Are not welcome here! You ruined my mija’s life!”

“Papá, stop it! I’ll handle this.” Julián placates his father. “Lucía? Amor,” He calls out into the house. “Can you bring Pá in? We have an…unexpected visitor.”

Lucía suddenly appears by the doorway with a little jittery boy behind her. “Ay, what is going on, Julián? I’m in the middle of helping Juan…cho…” She blinks. “Oh. Um.”

The little boy peeks from behind his mother, mouth agape. “Mamá, ¿no es ese Bruno? Mirabel’s Tío!”

My sisters exchange surprised looks as Julián’s mijo continues. “I told you he’s back! Abuelo didn’t believe me when I said I saw him this morning!”

“Juancho Álvarez!” His mother hisses. “Not a word. We’ll talk about this later.” Lucía holds on to the Señor’s arm and gently leads him back into the house. “Let’s go, Pá. It’s okay, Julián will take care of it...”

Señor Mauricio glares at me but follows after her.

“You too, Weecho,” Julián sternly chides, not breaking his eye contact in my direction. “Go follow your mother into the house. And close the door, please.”

The boy tries to argue, but he quickly scurries inside when his Papá shoots him a look. The door closes behind him, leaving me, my sisters, and Julián alone.

“I told you this is a terrible idea,” Julieta whispers angrily at Pepa as they try to help me up. Julián stuns my sisters by offering his hand out. I watch him warily but take it and stand on shaky feet. “Lo siento mucho, you two.” He apologizes. “We weren't expecting visitors at this time. What are you doing here?”

Pepa opens her mouth to say something, but Julián shakes his head. “Not you or Julieta, Pepa. I’m talking about you.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “What are you doing here, Bruno?”

“I…I don’t know,” I wince. That was quite a hit. “Pepa and Julieta just dragged me here, and I…”

Another fist flies towards my face, this time, from Julián. Some things never change. I dodge and it avoids my cheek, but it still clips me on the shoulder.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” Pepa screeches. “Leave my poor hermanito alone!” She rushes to help me but Julieta blocks her. “Wait, Pepa. Just let them sort it out.”

“How can you not know why you’re here?” Julián growls at me. He manages to land another blow, this time on my gut. I fall back, but a new fire emerges from me. “You’re telling me that you have no intention at all to show your face around here, if not for los amigas de mi hermana? We heard the news of your return a few days ago!”

Instinct takes over when Julián tries to strike again. I quickly step aside and slug him. He doubles over. “I was trying to prepare myself for something like this!” I stutter. “I know I deserved your father’s fury. I expected it. He warned me when Gabriela and I first started dating!”

We begin fighting, mano y mano. Julián is a whole lot younger than I am, but I don’t back down.

“Then if you knew that would happen, why the hell did you even leave my sister alone in the first place, ¿tu gilipollas?”

“I didn’t want to, but I had no choice!”

“And you got her pregnant, too!”

“That...that one was on me. I didn’t even know she was!”

“She was so heartbroken when she lost the both of you!”

“I know! You don’t have to tell me. I regret it every single day. I regret leaving your sister, but I had to do it for my family!”

Our respective fists connect to the other’s face and we fall with a thud. I stare up at the night sky. Everything hurts, but I feel relieved like another big weight has been lifted off my shoulders. “No amount of apologies would take the time I lost back,” I pant. “It won’t bring the dead back to life either. But…I want to make it right. For your sister.”

“You haven’t changed one bit, amigo.” Julián flinches as he rubs his jaw. “Still awkward as hell, I see.”

“I could say the same for yourself. Still a child, handling a conflict through fights, though I expected more...rage.”

“Eh. As you said, you deserve every single hit. I made my peace long ago. If you came back a few years earlier, you’d get more than a beating.” He laughs. “But I’m glad you’re here, Bruno. Welcome home.”

“It doesn’t feel like much of a welcome, but thanks,” I grimace as my sisters help the both of us up this time. “I’m exhausted.”

“Same here, but you look a whole lot different from when I last saw you. For a moment I thought you’d fall.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around. I’m not any weaker.”

“Okay, you two,” Pepa frowns. “That’s it? You both beat each other up and everything is okay? It sounds like this isn’t the first time this happened, either…”

“It’s a guy thing, Pepa.” Julián offers and she sticks her tongue out at him. “Sometimes you resolve things with your fists. It’s pretty primitive, I know.”

“Backwards even,” She sulks. “You look like shit, Brunito.”

“...I don’t have magical food to help you two.” Julieta deadpans. “You’re on your own.”

“I feel more like shit, but I think I’ll be okay,” I groan. I clap Julián’s shoulder. “I have a big favor to ask of you, Julián.”

“What is it, amigo?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. Pepa’s right. If anything, they’ll talk if I’m the one looking for answers. “I want to see her again. I need to. Please, tell me where she is.”

++++

I leave La Casa Guzmán bright and early the following morning, leaving a note for the family that I would be back later in the day.

My mind is flashing many different thoughts and memories as I weave through the forest brush and knock on tree trunks as I pass by. Twenty years ago I left my tower feeling a vision of my future in my pocket. Who knew that vision was fate?

I’m terrified, but at the same time, I’m hopeful.

“Dolores is spot on. I’m amazed she hasn’t found her yet. Gabriela has indeed been hiding.” Julián said to us last night when I asked him about her whereabouts. “Where in Encanto though, I don’t know. She doesn’t say where she’s going to be, really.”

“Wait, so you’ve seen her all these years?” Pepa fumed. “Why didn’t you tell any of us?”

“Hey, it wasn’t my decision to make,” Julián countered. “I respect my sister’s decision not wanting to be found. She asked the same from you.”

Pepa was taken aback. “So you knew about her last note? To our family?”

“She tells me everything.”

“Then how has she been out of sight all this time?”

“Some magic, maybe?”

My sisters and I exchanged glances. “Magic?”

“This is Encanto, isn’t it? There are some things we can’t explain. The Madrigal miracle may be lost, but it doesn’t mean there isn’t any other magic besides yours. I mean, my sister has a gift.”

“But…wasn’t she born with it?” Julieta asked. “We didn’t know someone from outside the Encanto could have one. Pepa and I were surprised when she told us about it back then. Gabriela said that she had one for as long as she could remember.”

“She was born with one, yes.” Julián shrugged as he turned to open the door to his home. “What I mean is, there’s something else. Let’s just say…divine intervention. But…I recall, in the rare times I do encounter her, mentioning that if Bruno ever returns, he’ll know where she’ll be.”

“Wait? Me? How…how would I know?” I choked. “I barely even know where to begin.”

Julián smirked. “Oh, you’ll know, amigo. Fate has such a weird way of bringing people together. I’m pretty sure you know what I mean, with you being able to see the future then.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Just one request…” He continued before he bade us farewell. “When you find her…can you…tell her that her family misses her very much? Tell her that our door is always open and we’re waiting. Please, bring her home, Bruno.”

My heart is in my throat by the time I reach the place. The secret hideaway remains the same as I remember, where we first met by chance. I see no one there, but I hear something faint. Someone singing.

“The hideaway.” I breathed when I realized hours later what Julián meant. “Of course.”

“What are you talking about, Tío Bruno?” Dolores blinked at me as she helped me clean up after dinner. “What hideaway?”

“It would make sense. You were never supposed to find her, Dolores,” My eyes lit up when I knew what it meant. “None of you were. That’s why Julián knew it had to be me.”

“I don’t understand…?”

I squeezed my sobrina’s shoulders, leaving her confused at my reaction. “I know where she is.”

I feel something strange as I make my way toward the water. The familiar twinge of magic is in the air, but somehow, it’s different from what I once had. I see nothing but my heart believes in another.

She’s here. I know it. The trees sway gently in the wind, and I finally see her. She is sitting by the water, singing softly to herself. She doesn’t notice me as I approach slowly. Her voice is still as bewitching as I remember.

Ya no estás más a mi lado, corazón

En el alma, solo tengo soledad

Y si ya no puedo verte

¿Por qué Dios me hizo quererte?

Para hacerme sufrir más

Siempre fuiste la razón de mi existir

Adorarte, para mí, fue religión

Y, en tus besos, yo encontraba

El calor que me brindaba

El amor y la pasión

Es la historia de un amor como no hay otro igual

Que me hizo comprender todo el bien, todo el mal

Que le dio luz a mi vida

Apagándola, después

¡Ay, qué vida tan oscura!

Sin tu amor, no viviré

Es la historia de un amor

I accidentally step on a twig and the snap echoes throughout. She turns to look behind her, looking for the source of the noise and our eyes meet. Her mouth opens in surprise and she blinks. Once. Twice.

Mi amor, mi cielo, luz de mis ojos. Gabriela.

We stare at each other.

And it’s like the first time all over again.

++++

Glossary of terms (in order of appearance in-text): Sé que sé - I know, I know No es ese - Isn't that Abuelo - Grandfather Los amigas de mi hermana - My sister's friends Mano y mano - Hand and hand (in this context: hand to hand combat. They're beating each other up.) Tu gilipollas - You a**hole

The following are the lyrics of Historia de un amor by Eydie Gormé and Trío Los Panchos Ya no estás más a mi lado, corazón - You are no longer by my side, sweetheart En el alma, solo tengo soledad - I have only loneliness in my soul Y si ya no puedo verte - And if I can't see you anymore ¿Por qué Dios me hizo quererte? - Why did God make me love you? Para hacerme sufrir más - To make me suffer more Siempre fuiste la razón de mi existir - You were always the reason for my existence Adorarte, para mí, fue religión - Adoring you for me was religion Y, en tus besos, yo encontraba - And in your kisses I found El calor que me brindaba - The warmth that you gave me El amor y la pasión - The love and the passion Es la historia de un amor como no hay otro igual - It is the story of a love, as there is no other like it Que me hizo comprender todo el bien, todo el mal - That made me understand all the good, all the bad Que le dio luz a mi vida - That gave light to my life Apagándola, después - After turning it off ¡Ay, qué vida tan oscura! - Oh, what a dark night Sin tu amor, no viviré - I can't live without your love Es la historia de un amor - It is the story of a love

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#fanfiction #encanto #bruno madrigal #original character #young bruno madrigal #tooth rotting fluff #fluff and romance #fluff and angst #friends to lovers #mutual pining #slow burn #original character has a gift #madrigal family #humor #trauma #ao3fic

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textsandscenes · 12 days

Text

your daddy, if you ask politely. born in the 1980s. he/him. mostly het. 18+ only. no minors. I'll be following you from a different account.

this is an account to explore and write out various little fantasies (and ease my sexual frustration) without overloading my other accounts. all of these scenarios include consent. don't take anything too seriously (some of it will undoubtedly be cringeworthy, even in my opinion); this is supposed to be fun and enjoyable for author and reader.

a lot of reblogs (too many). ➡️ my original posts are here ⬅️ and are typically queued for 8-10 PM ET.

I try to mark everything with Community Label: Mature, but if you see that I missed one, please let me know—I don't want to risk losing my account.

kinks: daddy role/mentor (age difference not required), spanking, spanking, spanking (and all impact play), wrestling/physical resistance, biting, restraints, service topping, pregnancy (no -actual- breeding), mommy/daddy combination with sub/playtoy, role play, anal/rimming, lingerie/hosiery, wigs & masquerade, hotel sex, spoiling makeup, toys, lots of oral (I love giving), snowballing, intelligence, undressing, filming/photographing, tumblrgirls

maybe okay?: CNC, hard physical violence, razorblade play, cat ears, degradation, coquette, somno, intox, free use

things I’m not into: extreme age play (no pacifiers, no underage fauxcest), extreme pet play, white panties, bathroom play, gaping, leather, feederism, fake doms, TPE, masks (balaclavas or ghostface), guns, face fucking, gagging, bimbofication, tradfem

_ _ _

feel free to flirt with me on anon. 💋 I want to answer everything publicly. I love the exhibitionism of it. I like to exchange pics via DM (don't start a conversation with me by just saying 'hey' or 'hi').

I've answered 101 NSFW Asks, but please send more.

a more personal NSFW tumblr of mine is love, lust, and anxiety, which has more photographic reblogging and occasional thoughts about dating and love.

#daddy k!nk #older daddy #daddy's good girl #soft dom #bd/sm relationship #bd/sm kink #18+#about me #d/s relationship #my post

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guava-jarritos · 3 years

Text

you know when your stomach’s been kinda upset for a couple weeks now and you start to get a little worried like..... I take my birth control every day and this week was the first time in months I’ve had unprotected sex anyway...... but......... bro........ 😳

#don’t rb #I’m just trying to pacify my anxiety here #like uhhhhhh #I’m probably gonna grab a few tests from the dollar store tonight just to clear my mind but that little anxiety voice in the back of my head #is like..... bro bro bro oh fuck #like I just started seeing this new guy LITERALLY this week there’s no possible way it would be his #the last time before that I had unprotected sex i ended up getting bored and leaving before either of us finished.. and that was MONTHS ago #the only option I could see would be my ex #but we only hooked up a few times in that time period and it was always protected #and again #I’m religious about my birth control #so it’s probably just my anxiety.....?#but god I’m so fucked if it’s not just my anxiety like uhhhhh haha I don’t even talk to him anymore as of YESTERDAY #he literally said our friendship is over yesterday #what am I supposed to DO 😅😅😅#a n x i e t y

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little-fics · 3 years

Text

Bee

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stucky x Reader; platonic!uncle!Tony

Summary: Reader is teetering the edge of a slip when her buddies Sam and Clint are mean to her, daddy stucky to the rescue

Warnings: age regression, scary bees, bottle, pacifier, anxiety, a little violence, angry!Steve (not at you), mean!sam and mean!clint, I may have missed some, read at your own risk

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: I had fun with this one! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer for my blog!

Life with Bucky and Steve was great, you'd officially been together for about a year, and they'd been your daddies about half that time. You didn't always regress, just when the world got a little too big and you needed to leave it all behind. The avengers didn't know about your coping mechanism, at your own request, save for Tony who has programmed Friday to detect when you're little and were about to do something that babies shouldn't do, such as cooking or showering because babies makes messes and get hurt. It was something you'd kept private and to yourself for a long time, and it took months to feel comfortable enough to talk with Steve and Bucky about it. You weren't always feeling little, and had the capability of being a very vital part to the team, but on your days off, it was easy to find yourself slipping into that headspace.

That's how you got to sitting on the balcony, slowly slipping into that headspace after a difficult mission. You'd woken up between Steve and Bucky, crawling out of the bed quietly, not quite feeling small but you know it's coming. Clint and Sam find you outside, sunbathing and staring at the clouds. Sam is the first one to come outside, Clint following close behind.

"Mornin' sunshine," Sam sits next to you, Clint moving to the other side of you, relaxing in his seat, Sam holding out a glass to you, "want some lemonade? I know that coffee makes you jittery on your days off." You take the glass, smiling at the yellow straw poking up from the top, "Thank you! And a straw!" You twiddle with it gently, pulling it out to take a sip. "Gosh," your shoulders sag and your head leans back in ecstasy, "Clint's lemonade is the best, thank you." Clint pointedly looks at Sam, smug, "Why thank you Y/n, I'm blushing." Sam scoffs, "You wouldn't have even made it if I didn't beg!" Clint shrugs, "I made food," he looks to you, "speaking of," he has you a plate with a sausage and egg biscuit. You tentatively take it from him, "Oh thank you, are you sure?" Clint laughs, leaning back in his seat, "Yeah, honey, me and Sam already had some."

Once you finish your biscuit, you're back to staring at the pretty sky, sipping on your lemonade listening to Sam and Clint bicker back and forth. A bee comes out of nowhere, eliciting a small yelp from you and you're quickly standing from your seat. They're laughing, which hurt your feelings, the fear of the bee causing you to slip fully. You try to go inside but hear Sam speak to the AI, "Friday, lock patio doors under code Falcon," before you make it to the door. When you pull on it the door won't budge. "Sam," your voice is meek, "that's not funny," you whine and shake the door again, getting nervous over the buzzing around your lemonade on the table. "Friday, open the door." Clint laughs again, "It's just a bee, you've been shot before and you can't handle a bee?" A tear slips down your face, and you feel your heartbeat pick up.

You shake on the door, trying to get away from your mean friends, wiping a tear away, "Open the door Sam." He's laughing, he thinks this is funny, "It's just a bee, it'll be gone in a minute Y/n, it's fine." You shake the door more violently, and it's clear Sam wasn't going to open the door. You bring your hand to the bracelet that lays around your wrist, a fail safe if something is wrong, to immediately notify Steve and Bucky that you need them. You find the tiny sun charm, pressing the tiny button that notifies your daddies of your state of mind and that you're in trouble, different from the other charm, a moon, who notifies your boyfriends of an emergency.

Bucky is the first one to hear Friday, "Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers," he groans groggily, "Friday, it's too early for this, what is it?" Bucky reaches over to find just Steve, no tiny baby to love on as he hears Friday once more, "I am sorry Mr. Barnes, but it seems munchkin has requested your presence with signs of distress." Bucky's eyes snap open at the use of the programmed name for when you're in your little space, throwing the covers off and slapping Steve's shoulder. "Bucky, what the-" Steve stops when he realizes that Bucky is already out the door, he's quickly behind him, not bothering to put a shirt on, as Bucky hadn't.

"Friday, where is munchkin?" Bucky spits, FRIDAY speaking up once more, "Munchkin is on the patio with Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton." Their brows crunch together in confusion, Steve finally speaking up on their way to the patio, sleep still heavy in his voice, "Is something wrong?" Bucky shrugs nervously, "Friday said she was showing signs of distress." The system speaks up once more, "That is correct. Munchkin's heart rate seems to be elevated and she is showing signs of high stress. She notified me by her emergency contact Sun Ray." At this, Bucky and Steve speed up, trying to get to you as quickly as possible.

The bee is still there, attracted not only to the lemonade, but the brightly colored pajamas keeping its attention as it flies back and forth between you and the lemonade. When it flies towards you, you hide in the corner of the patio, screaming, running to the other corner to hide from it when it follows you, a tear streaking down your face. Sam sees the stray tear, immediately his stomach sinking while you're piddling with your bracelet, ignoring the tears on your face, not hearing Sam when he stands and calls out gently, "Friday unlock the doors." Sam's in front of you, "Let's go inside, come on." When he reaches for you, you flinch back from him, causing his heart to break a little. You're now frantically pushing the button on your charm.

"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, munchkin has sent a distress call 13 times, up to 17, 23," and then they're at the doors to the patio, slinging them open.

Bucky takes in your appearance, you look afraid, tears freely streaming down your face, now surrounded by Clint and Sam, who are violently moved by Bucky. He's lifting you by your thighs, bringing them around his waist, glaring at Sam and Clint before carrying you inside. When you're back inside, feeling the rush of AC, you let loose, heavy thick tears falling with sobs. "Shhh my little bunny, I've got you."

Steve remains on the porch, staring at a shell shocked Sam and Clint, "What happened?" They shrug, "It was just a bee, we didn't know it would scare her so bad." Steve rolls his eyes at the men, following Bucky back to your room. When he gets there, you're straddling Bucky on the bed, hands tucked under you, fists balled up tightly, hiccuping sobs. "'S mean," Bucky is rubbing your back, shushing softly while you try to explain what happened, "wouldn't let me 'nside daddy, I try." More sobs erupt from you, Steve's brow furrowing, wondering what you meant.

"Friday, show me what happened with munchkin on the patio before Sun Ray was activated." He watches as the TV screen starts playing the scene, fury creeping up in his bones, while Bucky continued to console you, but matching the fire Steve has in his eyes. Steve saunters out of the room when the TV shuts off, heading straight for Sam and Clint. Bucky holds you closer when you whimper, "Oh doll, dada will be right back, he's just gonna go get you something to drink." You continue to sob, you refused to take your pacifier, dropping it out of your mouth every time he tried to put it in, sobs not allowing it to stay. "Baby baby baby, you're okay, that little bee isn't gonna getcha in here, only daddy." He tries to tickle you, but you just sob louder. He's thankful for the soundproof walls, knowing you don't like to draw attention.

Steve finds Sam and Clint in the common room with Nat and Tony. Tony stands when he sees Steve, anger on his face still shirtless. Steve comes up from behind Sam and Clint, grabbing their shirts roughly, pulling them up and off the couch, feet dangling a foot above the floor, turning them to face him. They're shouting, trying to get Steve to let go. Tony is trying to pull Sam away from him, Nat trying to hit his weak spots so he will drop Clint but he doesn't budge.

"Did you think it was funny?" Steve spits, bringing his face closer to theirs, "Did you? You think it was funny when she cried? Think it was funny when she screamed and pulled on the door? How would you feel huh? If someone laughed at you because you were scared? If your friends laughed at you?" Tony and Nat are confused, "Steve calm down, what happened?" Steve scowls, overpowering the men easily as he turns them around, still holding them in the air. "Friday, pull up the patio clip and my bedroom feed on the common room television."

"Voice identification confirmed. One moment." The video starts playing, but all they can hear are your sobs, not able to hear the small consoling your daddy is trying or the talk from the patio clip as it plays. "Is it still funny bird boy? Is it still funny when you know you're the reason she's like this? No? Good." Steve throws them down on the couch, Tony is furious, Nat is scolding them, and Steve's on his way into the kitchen.

Tony follows Steve after shutting off the video feed, Nat still scolding the two perpetrators. Steve is piddling around, heating up some milk in the microwave. "You okay man?" Tony asks, placing a hand on his back, when Steve glares at him Tony sighs. "Man you can't go back to her seething like this." Steve lets out a huff, "I've never wanted to throttle someone like I do right now." He grabs the milk from the microwave, mixing some hot chocolate power in it, something that frequently happens when you're having a very bad day. Tony hands Steve a bottle, hidden in a thin cabinet, only unlocked by four people in the tower; Uncle Tony, your daddies, and you. "She's your baby, and she hasn't stopped crying because her buddies were mean to her and she doesn't understand, if you go in there angry, she will think you're mad at her." Tony chides, Steve, resonating with Tony's words, takes a deep breath, filling up your bottle and continuing to shake it. "Want me to come cheer her up with you?" Steve sighs, "Let us calm her down a bit, get her feeling right and we'll play some games later yeah?" Tony starts to rummage through the fridge, "Have Friday notify me." Steve nods, leaving Tony and going back to his baby.

When he opens the door, you're still crying, but when Steve sits he pulls you into his lap, holding you like a baby and rocking you. "Shhh, it's okay baby, I know they were mean, but papa's here now. It's okay," he's rubbing your face gently, your sobs turned to weak whimpers. "That's it baby, you want some milk?" You nuzzle into his chest, Bucky taking a sip of the bottle making sure it's not too hot and gives it back to Steve. He holds the tip to your lips, you instantly wrap your lips around it and hum happily.

"There she is, sweet girl," his fingers tangle in your hair, massaging your scalp gently while Bucky rubs your legs with a feather light touch. You hiccup on the milk, Steve moving it away from you and wiping away a stray tear. Your fingers clutch around his shoulder, whining, "Papa." He coos at you, "Drinking too fast aren't we love?" You let out another whine, your bottom lip wobbling, "Pease papa." He traces your jawline before bringing the bottle back to your lips, "Slower, you hear me dove?" You nod gently, closing your eyes and continuing to drink the bottle.

You're teetering on the edge of sleep, Steve wiping away a drop of milk that finds its way to the corner of your mouth. He takes the bottle very carefully, stopping when you suck on it a little harder, trying to hold it in your mouth. "Bunny," Bucky's voice sings to you, "let daddy have that, okay?" Steve tries to pull it away again, this time with no fight, Bucky pressing your pacifier to your lips, which you take happily. He clips it to the top of your pajama shirt so if you drop it, it'll stay relatively within reach. "Friday, put on munchkins lullaby playlist."

Soft music starts playing through the room, bringing you all the way under, soft snores against Steves chest alerting them to your slumber. "Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton are outside, requesting entrance." Bucky rolls his eyes as he slides back down into the bed, "Friday, decline entrance and leave us be to nap for an hour." Steve moves you to Bucky, your sleeping form habitually wrapping around him and his warmth. Steve huddles behind you, wrapping his arm over you and resting it on Bucky, rubbing small circles. "She's gonna be a handful today," Steve comments, letting Bucky know that he thinks today is going to be one of those days where you regress further than usual. "She's gonna have such a good time with Tony." Bucky laughs, his eyes flutter shut, "Don't count her daddies short."

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mitsukui · 3 years

Text

late night experiences | g.w.

Pairing: George Weasley x female reader.

Summary: learning new things is always better when it is done with someone else.

Word Count: 2,7k.

Warnings: smut! Masturbation, mentions of innocence kink.

Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.

A/N: please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention ❤

Masterlist!

Your last year at Hogwarts rushed into your life without warning — and so did your sexual hormones. You swore to Merlin you could feel them tingling all over your body whenever you solely looked at George Weasley, your majestic boyfriend. And apparently, he felt the same way towards you. Wondering the reason behind it all, you were quick to blame the fact that the two of you had just turned 18.

You had been together for a little while now: around nine months or so. But nothing had ever happened, and you were not quite sure why. You two had, supposedly, everything needed: steamy make-out sessions, wandering hands, lustful thoughts, privacy, and all that jazz. Yet, there you were: ground zero.

However, things were about to change even though you still were unconscious about it.

“Psst!” Your favorite quill stopped scribbling your Herbology notes. “Oi!” Your eyes gazed at the direction from which came the voice only to realize it was one of your classmates, Angelina Johnson. “I’ve discovered something last night which I thought you might be interested in.” A mischievous smirk painted her lips as you leaned in closer, already feeling eager to listen to whatever she had to say. She was one of those people who made anyone pay attention to them whenever they said something.

Her hushed whispers filled the existing silence between you two in the Study Area once more. “The boys were talking in our common room last night, and rumor has it George can’t keep his hands off of his cock whenever he thinks of you.”

Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet giggled like little girls when she finally finished her speech. You could feel your cheeks getting embraced by a deep and violent warmness. Uh-oh.

Your mind suddenly produced images by itself: George’s chest going up and down quickly as he moaned under his breath. He had his long and slender fingers wrapped around his dick and, sweet Merlin, he was big. Big and thick and veiny. His eyelashes fluttered as his hand pumped up and down a few times, precum leaking from his tip.

Heaven probably looked like that. What a lovely sight. You would give anything to actually see the great George Weasley in such a position. But, again: ground zero.

Still, the possibility of him pleasuring himself at the thought of you seemed to awake something new inside your chest and offer you a novel tingling sensation. You felt a burning flame in your loins, and it was almost as if your entire body were on fire.

You wanted him to jerk off thinking of you. You wanted his hands to get dirty from his own seed because of you.

You gulped. Snapping fingers brought you back to reality. “Girl, it’s high time you gave that poor lad some love, you know.”

The next few days felt slow and eternal. George Weasley and George Weasley’s thick dick were the only things occupying your mind. Of course, you had fantasized about him before; but it had never been that vivid. Things are always better when they are real, after all.

And you wanted to do something about it. Your soul ached for him to share his hidden and erotic reality with you. Your flesh longed to be painfully close to his. Your body and your hands desired to tease him and give him something to be unbearably hard over. You obviously would not feel in peace until you got what you wanted.

That is why the suggestion of a late night meeting in the Prefect’s Bathroom came to life. It was discussed during another of your studying session with Angelina, Alicia and Katie, being first brought on by Angelina, of course. That girl had many wild cards up her sleeve.

“I happen to know the password. Got it from a Slytherin guy, after giving him a few galleons.”

“And a blowjob, too.” Alicia responded with her eyebrows raised and a mischievous grin hanging on her lips.

As the three other girls laughed carelessly, seeming to be extremely relaxed and confident to talk about such a topic, you chewed on your bottom lip. Jittery feelings bubbled up within your veins while concern clouded your mind. You had a severe lack of inexperience when it came down to anything sexual.

Your temporary anxiety was sharply noticed by Katie, who positioned her hand over yours in a comforting act. Her fingers soothed your skin, her next words slipping out of her lips as motherly advice.

“Don’t feel pressured to do anything, honestly. George is one of the most understanding people I have ever met. But I think a little bit of intimacy would work wonders on you, both of you.” Her grip on your hand became a bit tighter, and her warmth was incredibly pacifying. “You know, just suggest going to the Prefect’s Bathroom tomorrow night. He will surely accept, once he is heads over heels for you. Get in the warm, bubbly water. Kiss him, if you feel comfortable enough for that. And just see where it goes.”

Your other two friends nodded, assuring you everything was alright and that you could always count on them for support and advice. The conversation went on for a little longer, they sharing intimacy tips and encouraging you.

Luckily enough, the next morning was one that you had classes with George. You brought on the subject in the end of the lesson, while he gathered his material quietly.

His lips opened up in a bright smile in the moment you appeared in front of him, but his expression was soon destroyed by your visible tensed posture.

“Hey, gorgeous. Are you alright?”

You sighed shortly, trying to relieve some of your internalized insecurities. The suggestion came out of your lips in a mere murmur, but he was smart enough to grasp onto all of your words. His eyes noticed your dodging gaze and your fidgeting fingers, playing with the hem of your tie. You looked absolutely adorable to him.

“See you later tonight, then. Prefect’s Bathroom, 12AM sharp. I won’t be late.”

The rest of the day felt like an eternity. Perhaps, it was the uncertainty of it all, given that there was no way to predict how the scenario would take place later on. But the time for your meeting agonizingly came, and you were forced to leave your dormitory.

The weather was unpleasantly hot, and it was hard for you to tell whether it was due to the time of the year you were going through, or to the fact you were walking towards your own doom.

You had been curious and tempted to get to know his darker and more lustful façade but, at the same time, you were ashamed of how much you craved him despite being your first time feeling anything like that. Those same novel tingles from before returned to your loins as your made your way to the fifth floor.

Underneath your favorite carmine red pleated skirt and a muggle band T-shirt, you wore a set of lingerie that had not received much attention when previously picked out, which was a simple white bra paired with white panties, covered in tiny pink strawberries. When you were about to reach your destination, you came down to the realization of how childish your underwear looked. You inhaled sharply, concluding you had ruined everything.

Eventually, you and George met, and entered the bathroom hand in hand.

Although you had heard of its wonderful interiors, seeing everything with your own eyes for the first time made you gasp. Your gaze traveled through the place, and you wished to engrave every detail in your heart. The white marble grandness awoke a sense of greatness and admiration inside you, and you almost fell to your knees right then and there.

A tad of small talk was exchanged between you and your boyfriend, until he approached you at last. His big hands cupped your delicate face, and he leaned down to kiss you.

His lips were so terribly gentle that they sent butterflies to your stomach. He showed no shyness in the second his hands roamed down your body and found your back, giving your ass a light squeeze. Unable to control yourself, you moaned and pressed your body against his.

A steamy make out moment was held between the two of you until the moment for the truth hovered over your heads. He rested his forehead against yours, and looked at you with loving eyes as his thumb ran over your lips.

“Tell me why we are here, darling.”

“It’s just that…There had been this rumor, you know?” A shy chuckle escaped your lips, and you closed your eyes, trying to block out all the filthy images suddenly appearing in your mind. “People have been saying that you jerk off thinking about me. But I’m not sure if it’s true or not, because we have –“

“It is true.” The coolness in his voice caught you off guard, and you blinked at him in a mixture of shock and self-induced accomplishment: your boyfriend touched himself at the thought of you.

Your eyelashes fluttered until your eyes were shut, and a sigh escaped your lips. Your mind knew no restrains at that moment, and the images you had been blocking out came to life all at once, violently crashing against your insides, almost like agitated waves at a beach.

Silence embraced the two of you again, but neither of you felt bothered by it. You took your time to let the sinful images sink in, and he took his time to study your face. You had been clearly affected by the truth he had just spilled out, and he secretly enjoyed such thing. He could read you like the palm of his hand, and he knew you were thinking about him with his dick out.

As he breathed heavily, fearing air would forever leave his lungs after what he was about to do, he prepared himself for what was about to come. His thumb ran over your slightly swollen lips but, this time, he parted them with a gentle tug on your lower lip. George timidly shoved his thumb into your mouth, and you, with your eyes still closed, took all of it.

Your tongue swirl against his finger, the feeling of your saliva dancing against his skin sending electrical waves down his spine. You continued on sucking him until your cheeks finally hollowed, and he pulled his finger out with a low ‘pop’ noise.

You opened your eyes in a deep frustration, but he could no longer take it. His cock was hard inside his trousers and it battled for its freedom. He breathed unsteadily and with a bit of difficulty, his mind starting to wonder how your lips would feel wrapped around his tip.

The realization that you two had never done anything before hit him hard, and he felt himself twitching while precum started wetting the fabric of his underwear.

Would it be selfish of him to think he would probably be the first one ever to taste your cunt? The first one to penetrate you, the first one to end your innocence for eternity, the first one to feel your walls clenching around him, the first one to make you cum.

George was forced to step back and groan in bitterness. He really wanted to fuck you, but he would never disrespect you or your limits. Plus, on top of that, he really did not know how he could express his urges.

“S-Sorry, darling. I-I-I don’t know what’d gotten into me, I guess I just lo-“

“Can you show me how you touch yourself?”

The question hung on air for one or two moments. You could not believe what you had just said. You were drunk on a new dizzying and exciting sensation, one that left your panties secretly wet and your clit throbbing, and one which made you ask your boyfriend to masturbate right in front of you.

So he did it. Apparently, Katie was right: George Weasley would gladly accept anything you asked him.

After the enormous bathtub had been filled with water and bubbles, he undressed and you lost all of your senses for a bit.

His fair skin carried grand amounts of both freckles and small scars. His entire silhouette was outlined by groups of yet developing muscles, but each one of them caused more wetness to pool in your strawberries ridiculously covered panties. George was so tall, his shoulders were so broad, and his dick was indeed so big.

When all of his being finally became bare in front of you, you rubbed your thighs together, the need for friction creeping inside your body for the first time ever.

You stood still exactly where you were, but he made his way to the tub, sitting on the edge of the white porcelain. He lowered his dark eyes to his throbbing member and his touch caused a relieved sigh to leave his lips. His hand moved up and down a few times until he looked at you again.

There was something different on his face. His eyelids seemed to be a tad heavier, and the sounds slipping out of his slightly parted lips were the most delicious thing you had ever heard.

George Weasley was jerking off right in front of you. He was moaning only for you. And you hoped he would cum just for you, too.

As the minutes slowly went by the two of you, you watched him quietly. However, it was impossible for him to keep quiet. By now, his moans were loud and shameless. He whispered your name every now and then, the thought of you bouncing up and down his dick providing all the fuel he needed to orgasm only for you.

That was entirely new for you. You felt so dirty, so sinful, so misbehaved, but you were living for it. You wanted more of him, and you also wanted to give George more of you. And that was exactly the reason why you said your next sentence out loud.

“Can I touch myself?”

His ears convinced himself that he had heard it incorrectly, but the way your fingers tugged on your T-shirt, and your thighs rubbed together, he knew he was not mistaken. A new rush of pleasure ran through his veins and he pumped his hand faster. Unable to form coherent sentences, he mumbled something along the lines of ‘please’ and nodded vehemently.

In the blink of an eye, both of your bodies were unclothed and both of you played with your intimacies. George’s right hand applied all the pressure that could possibly resemble your tight cunt wrapped around his cock, and your fingers helped the squelching sounds coming from your wetness to echo in the bathroom. You had never thought that so many lustful sensations could occupy your body all at once and, yet, there you were: masturbating at the sight of your boyfriend doing the exact same.

By now, you also had problems breathing and the tight knot inside your body screamed for a break. You pulled your hand away from your dripping cunt, but you remained connect to your womanhood by a very thin and almost invisible string of your juices.

George obviously noticed that tiny detail and it was too much for him. He announced he was close and, soon enough, his skin was stained by the pleasure you had given him. His eyes were closed as he felt his heartbeat increasing and the images of you still haunting his mind.

The way he accepted and let his orgasm work on his body made you move your hand against your clit faster and you followed him in a matter of seconds. Your body trembled and you could not stop whining.

You had never experienced something so astonishingly sensational.

Your pants filled the bathroom for a little while before his body finally slipped into the still warm water. The comfort offered by the setting relaxed his existence and he weakly called and asked you to join him, which you happily agreed with.

He touched your hips and pulled you closer, placing your body against his chest. With his lips pressed against your temple, he whispered a series of ‘thank you’ and ‘you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen’.

However, his final words changed the mood completely and you hated him for it.

“That’s a nice pair of panties, by the way.”

Tag list! ❤️ @efyra @writingsomewrongs @kellsslut @pineapplesandpinas @fiction-is-the-new-reality @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa @emmaev @asthmax @anchoeritic @eunoia-kth

#george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley smut #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #🌼 — personal: writings

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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

Note

the battery was dead

Ship: GN! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mention of case-typical violence (more specifically, a bomb), told from Spencer's perspective and he experiences anxiety about reader having been harmed (they're okay though!), Spencer's self-deprecating thoughts, general mood of anxiety throughout, stressful team situation, big feelings of guilt, very much hurt/comfort.

Word count: 1.6k (i did not intend for this to be this long but it's basically a whole thing)

A/N: This is not what I intended to write today but my brain's on a whole hurt/comfort vibe apparently so here we are: something I wrote all in one go in about half an hour. Oops.

Everybody was in different places when the bomb went off. Spencer was with Derek, in an SUV headed uptown. The explosion was downtown. Where you'd been headed. Alone.

The geographical profile had indicated he wouldn't strike downtown. The geographical profile that he had made. The geographical profile that the team had trusted, that the team had based their assignments off, that had led Hotch to conclude it was safe to send you downtown alone.

"Garcia," Derek answers, putting her on loudspeaker and glancing at Spencer who could be pictured and pasted into the DSM-V as the definition of anxiety right now, "Garcia tell me you can patch everybody through."

"I'm trying," She rambles, her voice pitching upwards, "I'm patching ___ through now I'm trying their cell."

Spencer's leg bounces. It bounces so hard it's a miracle the velocity of it doesn't send Derek veering right across the road. He scratches at his neck. There are no words to be said. No words in any language in the world can describe the fear coursing through his body as he hears Garcia scramble, pressing keys and typing and he's only vaguely aware of Derek's hand coming to rest reassuringly on his bouncing knee, managing to still it just a little bit.

"___ will be fine," He reassures him, "Just fine. I promise. It's not your fault kid, you couldn't have known, how would you have known?"

"It's my job to know."

His tone is bitter, angry, and he feels even worse for it because it's not Derek's fault. Derek is trying to help. Derek is trying to be kind and somehow that's worse because he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve anybody's kindness right now and he can't get your face out of his mind. How you'd smiled at him before walking out of the door of that precinct and how it might be the last time he ever got to see you smile and it was all his fault. All his fault.

His stomach is in knots. Garcia's practically smacking her precious equipment in her hurry and then the line goes mute.

"Garcia?" Derek asks again, "Garcia are you still there?"

There's a beat of silence and then the background noise returns, "I'm just trying ____'s cell."

What's taking so long? She could have tried by now. He's never known Garcia to be slow at her job and even though it feels like time has stopped. Fractured like a mirror, throwing off pieces, and he's trapped inside a piece that has all of the horror and guilt he's ever felt in his life staring him in the face. But she can work faster than that. Why isn't she working faster than that?

It all becomes clear as he hears her clack again. Then your voice floods the line.

"You've reached SSA ____ ____ of the Behavioural Analysis Unit. Please leave a voicemail, or if you're calling regarding an urgent matter then please direct your calls to SSA Aaron Hotcher at the following number-"

"Maybe she's already on the phone," Derek suggests, cutting over your recital of his number, "Maybe her line's already busy. Right Garcia, is her line already busy?"

"I can't tell."

She's lying. Spencer knows she's lying and it knocks him sick. He practically wrenches the handle to the window off in his quest to get it open. The cold air pours in and he feels worse. He can't allow himself to bask in any feeling of comfort when you're God knows where.

He can't let himself think like that. He blinks hard, shaking his head as if he can physically remove the images from his brain. They flash through, his neurons defying him as they keep picturing you in worse and worse scenarios, and he can't breathe.

"Pull over," He directs Derek, wrenching off his seatbelt before Derek even manages to get the car in park.

Somewhere amidst all of it, Hotch has been patched through.

"We're convening downtown. Our presence has been requested at the crime scene."

Derek is saying something to pacify him. Or he's telling him something. He can't tell because his head is swimming and then Derek is squeezing his shoulder, physically pulling him back into reality.

"Kid. Listen to me. You're not helping anybody getting yourself all worked up like this. We need to focus. We've got to work this through."

He nods. He nods because Derek is right. They do have to work this through. Even though they would be better working this through without him because he's the one who made the profile that was wrong and his contributions clearly can't be trusted and-

"Put your seatbelt on. Talk to me. Let's talk through how it could have gone wrong."

Derek's voice strikes just the right balance between commanding and reassuring. It always does. So he does it. He clips in the seatbelt and starts to ramble, discussing avenues they haven't explored before, suggesting why he could have been wrong. He's never doubted himself like this before, and it's an uncomfortable feeling. What's more uncomfortable is the realisation he's never failed you like this before.

They pull up to the crime scene. Derek scrambles out of the car, but he pauses for a beat. It's only when Emily opens the door, that he's pulled back into reality again.

"Spencer," She says, "Spencer, come on."

There are SUV'S everywhere. They've tried to contain the scene as much as they could but they needed the bomb squad, needed paramedics, needed FBI.

She's walking him somewhere and he's frantically searching around him, frantically trying to orient himself. It doesn't help that it's dark, gone midnight by now, and the street lights were taken out in the initial explosion. Most of the lights come from torches, or headlamps that people are wearing. It's not enough, he can barely make out Emily let alone find your face in the crowd.

And then he hears it. His name. Your voice.

You found him.

"Spencer," You call, and he can't possibly turn around fast enough.

He barely has before you come crashing into his arms, cinching them tightly around him. He practically scoops you off of the ground, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you as close as he can possibly get you to his body, inhaling the familiar scent of your shampoo and there's tears coming out of his eyes, tears of relief and fear and-

"Spencer," You tell him, sniffling, "Spencer you're kind of crushing me."

You let out a little laugh, and he lets out one too. But it's puffy, practically just air. He releases his grip a bit and you lean up, your arms looping around his neck and playing with the baby hairs situated at the nape of it.

"Spence I'm okay, I'm right here," You reassure him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "I'm right here."

You are right here. He can hear the pound of your heart, he can smell your perfume, he can feel you playing with his hair in a way that tickles but is so comforting, so domestic, so reassuring that you still love him despite his fuck up, that he couldn't bring himself to tell you to stop even if he wanted you to.

He doesn't even know he's still crying until he speaks, his voice wavering as it manoveurs past the lump in his throat, "I-Garcia tried calling you. You didn't answer your phone."

"The battery was dead," You tell him, "I plugged it in in the car and next thing I know I'm getting pulled over. I got brought straight here when I told them I was FBI and I tried to borrow somebody's phone to call but they cut off cell reception here in case there was a second bomb."

He swallows. He can't say anything else, can't do anything else. He manages to open his eyes, and you lean up, apparaising him. You thumb at the tears on his cheeks, a kind of softness and love entirely exclusive to you filling your eyes along with a couple of tears. You don't look at him like you're angry. You don't look at him like you're disappointed. You look at him with a kindness he's entirely undeserving of at this moment in time and the thought spurs two more tears out of his eyes.

"What's wrong?" You ask, your voice barely above a whisper, "Spence what's wrong?"

"It was my fault," He chokes, his head dipping a bit, too ashamed to make eye contact, "I made the profile. I was wrong. I sent you here, I-I sent you directly into danger."

"It was a copycat," You tell him, "It was a copycat, he didn't get away in time and got caught up in the blast. Our guy is smarter than that, so they think this guy tried to imitate it. It's not your fault. You couldn't possibly have known, you can't profile a person you don't know exists."

The revelation is like foam on a petrol fire. It quells the pain in his chest, the one that had maliciously licked at him, igniting all his own wounds and insecurities.

It wasn't his fault.

He holds onto you even tighter, burying his face in the crook of your neck, "Thank you. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being okay."

"I'm always okay," You tell him, your voice nothing but sincere, "I'm always okay because I always have you."

With that, the fire is out. You reluctantly wiggle out of his arms, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. He's not okay yet. Not entirely. It all still feels surreal, and he knows it'll take a long time for his heart to settle down. But you're here. By his side. And that's enough for now.

In fact, with you? That's enough for always.

Permanent Spencer tagslist:

@ssa-m-187 @reidingmelodies @cyanide-mustard @shesalatesh

@sapphic-prentiss @geostarr @kathrynisadogperson @rem-ariiana @spoonielivingfree @starsandshit90 @spencerreidat3am @takeyourleap-of-faith @calm-and-doctor @averyhotchner @muffin-cup @purplewaterbottles082 @reidsnose @wheelsup @ellesgreenaway @sunlitspence @spencerreid9 @drspencerreidd @reiding-recs @bauemily @cmily @retrxbarnes @jhillio @txmhoelland @spenxerslut @amoeebaa @veridianluv @sad-bitch-h0ur @reidtome @converse-spence @randomfavtingswall @bethc54 @sebstan-is-the-man @justanothercrazyfangirl @eli-side-blog @vntgreid @reidmeastory @reidemandweep @ggublerss @s1lverhand @cigarette-day-dread @newtmyheart @i-understood-that-reference @willowrose99 @v-is-obsessive @awesomebooklover17 @youarethereasonimsmiling @xhopingthis-worksx @agentdilf @spencerreidsconverse @nomajdetective @brown-eyedshell @randomficsandshit @bvttercupbby @thatsonezesty13 @spookydrreid @kurtuinna @loverboyspence @jswessie187 @sammicabrera @idontwantyourcookiesthanks @sweetandsunny @reidstulips @midnightstan @stylesstreet @iamhowieson @reichelhache @screennamealreadyused @joyclubie @mrs-dr-reid @measure-in-pain @slaytherinthoughts @inlovewprentiss @citlalireedus @love-you-to-saturn @drayshadow @makailaa @idonotexiste @hercleverboy @disasterwriter @kuolonsyoja @thosecriminalminds @sun-flower-seed @singularityjc @adanae91 @uwu-queen-420 @broken-stardust

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #imagine criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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kokichixreaderthings · 3 years

Text

kokichi x reader who age regresses <3

hi! this isn’t a request but i haven’t seen much age regression x reader content on here so i decided to write one for all the regressors out there in case they want it! if you don’t know what age regression is, it’s a coping mechanism where you regress your mind to a childlike state to cope with stress, trauma, anxiety, etc. it can be involuntary or voluntary! and it’s completely sfw btw! that’s a huge misconception that often happens, unfortunately :( anyways, i hope you enjoy this!

kokichi would definitely support your age regression!

i headcanon he has a few members in D.I.C.E. that age regress too!

and i do feel like he’s the type to age regress himself, he’s childish and i feel like he needs a coping mechanism 😔

so in those two ways, he completely understands!

“woah, you’re an age regressor too?! nishishi, that’s so interesting!”

but other than that, even if he doesn’t know what age regression is at all, he’ll still support you

if you’re close to him and managed to get through his layers of lies and actually stayed with him, you obviously mean a lot to him!

so he thinks that anything to make you feel better or comfortable, including age regression, is good!

“huh? you’re an...age regressor? welll i totally know that means! .......okayyyy that was a lie.”

“ohhh, well of course I accept you! you’re my beloved, how could i not?”

and again, you mean a lot to him, so in the case of age regression, he’ll try to make you feel happy !

like buying you things to help you regress/for when you regress

like pacifiers, bottles, anything like that!

a lot of stuffed animals too, he’s buying you a lot of personalized build a bears

“~y/n! i got you a gift! close your eyes ‘kay?”

you get a lot of regression gear from him

and if you need him to actually take care of you/ watch over you even if it’s just one time, he’ll accept!

as a supreme leader, he can lead, and in that way he can take care of you!

“duh! of course I can take care of you! sooo do you like bottles or sippy cups?”

he tries his best!

but he’s not the greatest caregiver

he more so plays with you than watches over you, due to his childish nature

every toy you play with, he plays with too!

he places scarves around all your stuffed animals, makes a gigantic building block tower, all that kind of stuff!

and he loves playing games too!

maybe it’s not an amazing idea for someone who’s regressed to the mind of a child to play monopoly but kokichi will try anyway

“nishishi! i just bought your property! heyyy, don’t get upset!-“

he can still be sweet when he watches over you though

if he does see you getting upset or anything, he switches off the childish mode and takes care of you a bit more

“y/n, sweetheart, little one, come here! *opens arms* do you want a hug? as a supreme leader, i give perfect hugs!”

his smile is really sweet <3

but if you don’t really want him to take care of you or anything, that’s fine too!

he’ll still be mindful on when/how you regress in case he needs to help you

like if you ever feel yourself regressing in public, he notices

in cases like that, he’ll try to get you away from the public setting and into a more private and safer place

“hey hey, little one! yup! i know you’re little right now. so c’mon! let’s go back to see all your stuffies!”

if this happens often, he’ll start carrying around your pacifier or a toy so you can feel a bit more comforted as he gets you away from the public eye

and he’s pretty protective during these moments, all he wants is for you to feel safe

“y/n, relax, it’ll be okay! i’m here for you, alright?”

and when you’re really upset and you need to regress, it’s the same kind of thing

but he’ll need to comfort you a lot more during that due to how upset you are

he’s kinda good at comforting you, he can be soft-spoken and sweet when he wants to be

“y/n, it’s okay to be small right now, just relax, you’re safe and no one will hurt you. i won’t let them! no one can get past a supreme leader like me, i have plenty of experience of dealing with enemies! and i’ll protect you, i promise.”

you mean a lot to him after all, of course he’d try to make you feel better

even if the truth and being genuine is kinda uncomfortable sometimes

and he’d never tell anyone about your age regression unless you want him to

but if anyone does find out and makes fun of you or calls you weird, he’s angry

no one gets to tease you except for him !

though he probably wouldn’t tease you for this kind of thing, age regression is supposed to be a safe space!

and how dare anyone try to mess that up for you???

how dare they even try to make fun of you when you have a supreme leader by your side?

he has a long list of pranks for situations like these

they’re inconvenient, unsettling, annoying... and they’re all carried out by D.I.C.E. and him!

“don’t worry, beloved. i’ll take care of this!”

and if they even dare to call your age regression sexual, its ten times worse

he can’t let that kind of misconception slide, it’s harmful and it can hurt you and make your regression feel a whole less safe than it does

he doesn’t want that obviously!!

it’s unfair that people have that assumption towards regressor! it’s just not true!

and kokichi hates that people spread this lie around. it’s not even a fun lie!

and he hates liars after all...

but above all, he’ll comfort you as long as you need when you’re dealing with criticism like this

“they’re just super dumb y’know? age regression is totally valid! it makes you smile sometimes right? theeennn it’s okay!”

he does want to see you smile...

overall, he’s here for you! and he supports you and your coping mechanism <3

thank you so much for reading!!! and remember kokichi ouma loves you💜

#danganronpa kokichi #kokichi oma #kokichi ouma #kokichi oma x reader #kokichi ouma x reader #kokichi x reader #not a request! 💜#ahhh it feels so nice to post again!!!!#sorry this took so long!!!#i hope every age regressor is having an amazing day <3

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