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#and I want to cry every time she brings it up
theoldsports · 3 days
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SOLUTION.
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Art Donaldson x Reader | 5k words
SORRY SERIES LINK.
warnings: pregnancy, implied discussion of abortion, a boy groveling on his knees for his family, there’s a dog (a real one, not just Art), talk about Art’s forced weird athletic borderline disordered eating.
okay, i lied last time. THIS is my best work. this is very out of my brain and i hope you love it. holy shit.
Have you ever sat and listened to a leaky faucet? I mean, really listened?
Steady. Like a heartbeat, if you think about it.
Sometimes, though, if the leak is slow enough, it’s more like the kind of heart rate that sends the nurse with the crash-cart sweeping into the room to shock you out of an AFIB pattern. Or however that worked.
[Y/N] was listening to it. The dripping. The kitchen sink. It hadn’t stopped for days. When it began, it was steady. Now, it was irregular. It started the day Art left
Art had been away at an early season tournament. [Y/N] had an impossible work week, so Art had told her he was happy to go for the better part of the week on his own. They both knew Art really did hate to be alone in situations like that. He had always had one of his people there. His mom, Patrick, [Y/N]; one of them was in his corner at these things. This time, he was truly on his own. Art could not stand to travel alone. He had his team of physios and coaches, but not his family. [Y/N] was going to swing by and surprise him at the end, but her boss had leaned into her for trying to take more days off during release season for the big summer blockbusters. Plus, someone did have to watch the dog.
This context about Art’s being away is important. It’s not that Art was the epitome of a handyman, but he really liked to feel like he was contributing to their home’s ecosystem when a lightbulb went out or a switch needed replacing. The man was incredible with the small things. Yet, [Y/N] sat at the kitchen table with a frown on her face, trying to rough in an outline for an article. With the faucet dripping. If Art were there, or if she was with Art three states over, the faucet wouldn’t be dripping against the porcelain basin.
It wasn’t like the wifi signal was strong enough anywhere else on the property for her to up and move either.
drip drip drip. Said the faucet.
[Y/N] was damn near the point where she was going to run upstairs to the bedroom and get the baseball bat Art kept with the express purpose of running down the stairs in his briefs and cracking up on possible intruders. All she could think about was bringing the wood down against the glass and cheap metal on her kitchen counter.
A new house would have a working sink and a bathroom counter that wasn’t too small and a halfway decent wifi signal.
Instead, [Y/N] set her face down upon the cool blue faux granite countertop. The temperature helped ease the feeling of the hyperbolic corkscrew being driven between her eyes. The dripping kept dripping and [Y/N] wanted to cry.
This agony wasn’t all the sink’s fault, though.
[Y/N] saw on the tennis channel before she even got a call from Art that he’d won that weekend. He still hadn’t called. The lack of a call from made her feel ashamed. Not a soul there to celebrate the success with him. She felt an immense sense of guilt slide across her skin because she wasn’t there to witness that smile he got when he won. Sweaty and angry, but relieved every time. He still got that look when he won. Art was a machine on the court, and a competitor not worth counting out at this point in his career. He still looked surprised and delighted every time he, of all people, hit the winner. [Y/N] loved that look. Art loved how she would celebrate with him after a win, too.
[Y/N] prayed Art made his flight without delay that evening. Selfishly, because she wanted her boy back. Also because Art was mortally terrified of airplanes. Planes made him feel out of control due to lack of trust with the pilot. Without that phone call from him, [Y/N] was scared knowing he was out on his own and that he likely felt anxious enough to give a horse a heart attack. She would have no way of knowing if something had happened between the match end and now.
She did know that the sink was leaking.
She also knew her period was two weeks late.
That, Art couldn’t fix on his own. In fact, it was fairly obvious that the delay was more or less Art’s fault.
[Y/N] hadn’t yet taken a pregnancy test at that time. If she took the time to take one, it would make everything the obvious answer a reality she would have to deal with. She had scares before. Ones that she had never, and would never, tell Art about. She would wait for her delayed—not missed!—period and everything would be fine. Like the other times. It had to be fine.
She checked her phone. It was a blue slidephone with small rhinestone stickers she had applied to the back. Still nothing from Art. He said he would call first right after the match, but he still hadn’t actually called, so maybe it was time to call first. It had been hours since he said he’d ring up. It wasn’t a major concern that Art would blow her off. Ideas of danger and uncertainties flooded her head.
“I’m the one that wants marriage so bad. Not Artie. What if he says no? Or not now…?”
[Y/N] sat on the beach with her back against Patrick’s shins. Art and [Y/N] were completing their first year completely post college. [Y/N] and Patrick were twenty-four and Art was almost twenty-four. His November birthday set him behind.
Patrick’s hands were on her shoulders and his body in a beach chair behind her while they both stared off over ocean as the sun set. “You’re actually stupid if you think he’ll deny you, [Y/N].”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to step on his game, or whatever. The guy is supposed to ask. Isn’t this going to be… emasculating or something?”
“Emasculating for Art? For pretty baby? Yeah, okay,” Patrick teased. [Y/N] threw a fistful of sand at him. “Christ, okay, okay. Cool it.” He spit.
Art had run back up toward to hotel to grab his water bottle, while Patrick and [Y/N] stayed at the dunes. [Y/N] wanted to propose to Art by trip’s end. She thought it would be sweet. Art was extremely forward when it came to her her, but he hadn’t been forward about the whole proposal business. He seemed scared about marriage. [Y/N]he would do it herself.
She was grateful for the time alone with her best friend too. Sitting and doing nothing, or partying. Either was more than welcome. “He’s not going to say no,” Patrick continued. His mouth casually leaned close to her ear. “Because it’s insane how whipped you’ve got him.”
“Don’t say that—“
“He wants to have your babies. Ask him. Trust me, he’ll say yes and he will be all the hell over you.” His fingers worked into [Y/N]’s shoulders, feeling the tension there. He took his hands off of her when Art came running down the beach.
[Y/N] heard a click in the lock. Her head flopped to the left, still pressed against the counter, to glance at the door. Her heart rate increased. She was so tired and the speed of the situation so fast, that she didn’t both moving or attempting to defend herself.
Most fortunately, when the door swung open, it was her Art. The sun was going down behind him. He looked a bit ragged and had a racket bag over one shoulder and two duffels in the other hand. She sat upright sharply on the kitchen barstool. “Pretty baby!”
All Art’s gear hit the floor. The door was left open behind him (taking a big chance that their Labrador mix, Cheese, didn’t run down the stairs and bolt out and away). Art walked toward [Y/N], arms extending. His strong arms pulled [Y/N] in close to his chest. She rested her head against his soft gray t-shirt. Her own arms embraced him back and one of her hands tucked comfortably into the back pocket of his jeans. “[Y/N]… I missed you.” Art said into her hair.
“I missed you… I-I… You didn’t call. How did you get here—“
“Final match actually started on time, so I gambled on moving my flight to the earlier one. I didn’t have time to call if I was taking the early one. I should’ve texted. I got nervous with the-the flight. I’m sorry. Forgive me?”
[Y/N] leaned back to look at him. There was no more welcome sight in the world than Art Donaldson. Irish genetics saw to it that Art was freckled from the spring sun. With shaggy hair boyishly covered by a baseball cap tipping back dangerously, he practically glowed. Even though he looked like shit. His sunglasses were hanging on his shirt. [Y/N/] tilted her head up, signaling for a kiss. Hungrily, Art leaned forward to take as many kisses as he wanted. His lips tasted like spearmint gum. Like always.
Cheese did run downstairs when Art’s hand climbed up the side of [Y/N]’s throat and when her own hand started to squeeze from under the fabric of Art’s back left pants pocket. Art had to pull regretfully away to grab Cheese by the collar and shut the front door.
Delightedly, Art did gteet Cheese with ear-scratches and a belly rub. Art received the customary licks and a tailwags in return. Cheese was always pretty down when the whole family wasn’t together. He walked and played a bit, but when his dad wasn’t around, Cheese kind of deflated. He had spent most of the time laying flat on Art’s side of the bed. It was obvious the dog was grieving the disappearance of his boy.
When Art bent down to pat his beloved Cheese, [Y/N] stood from her chair and bent at the waist. She pulled Art’s hat off and set it on the counter. Gently, she kissed Art on top of the head. With a scratch not unlike the ones he gave to the canine to the back of Art’s neck, the man looked up at her from the ground with a half-smile.
“Congrats, baby,” [Y/N] said. Art cut his eyes curiously from her to the tennis channel on the TV playing in the next room. That had him realizing where she would have gotten the information of his win from so efficiently. “How was the tournament? I’m sorry I couldn��t—“
“Sure, sure, but I bet Cheese here is pretty glad you were home,” Art said and stood up with one final pat to Cheese’s flank. “The whole thing was great. I… I’m kind of surprised I won, if I’m being honest.” Art said, wrapping an arm around [Y/N]’s waist.
Naturally, her hands flattened against his toned chest when he tugged her towards him. “I’m not. You’re fucking good at tennis, Art.”
His ears reddened in embarrassment as he tucked his face into [Y/N]’s neck to hide his face. Art was used to praise and loved it more than anything, no matter where it came from. Every compliment from [Y/N] was worth a hell of a lot more. Art hated thinking about why that was the case. He knew why, though. She had seen he and Patrick play and even then thought Art was good. Art still won the match when it came to [Y/N] and he would never tell her that.
“Hush…” He mumbled into her neck, planting a biting, teasing kiss there. She laughed. He laughed. “I played against an eighteen year old kid yesterday. He played really well,” Art leaned back to look at her again. “You saw, I’m sure,” he indicated the TV with a nod. “He would’ve won this weekend if I hadn’t won that match. Just… I’m twenty-six. Made me feel old.”
“…Glad you won, then.”
“I said if I hadn’t…”
“Well, if you’re sooooo down on your win then congrats on flying home all by yourself like a big boy.” [Y/N] smirked.
“Oh, you’re gonna be like that, huh?” Art withdrew his hands from his wife’s body and put them teasingly on his own hips.
[Y/N] nodded. “Yeah. If you’re old, imagine how I feel.”
“Ancient, probably.”
Art leaned in for another kiss. She pushed him back playfully. “No! You called me old!” [Y/N] laughed.
She leaned one way, then the other to avoid Art’s beautifully wrinkled nose and smiling mouth. “Please? I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You’re-you’re not old!” Art said and attempted to trap her with his arms and give her a kiss.
[Y/N] turned hard over her shoulder and ran up the stairs. Cheese gave a woof from the couch when Art chased after her. Art spent his life chasing after her.
“No! You can’t kiss me! Doghouse! Bad Art! Bad!” [Y/N] accused jokingly. Art jumped up the stairs. He took them two and three at a time.
Art backed her against the bathroom door. Nowhere left to run. His rough hands settled on her hips. “Gotcha. You’re pretty fast for an old lady, y’know. Late for bingo, or—“ Art smirked when he leaned in to kiss her.
[Y/N] shut him up with a kiss. She had missed his stupid boy babbling. His mouth was soft against hers. Art put one of his hands on the wooden door beside her face to hold himself up. The other hand found her belt loop, keeping her body close to his.
“I love you,” Art whispered between kisses. “I love you so much, honey. I missed you.”
[Y/N]’s head leaned back against the door with a soft thud. Her breath caught in her throat. “I love you t—mmh!” Art leaned in for another kiss.
The joy of being Art Donaldson’s wife was that he never got tired of touching her, or being physically close. Sometimes, [Y/N] would look over at him while she was writing, or making dinner, and he would be staring, or slowly extending his hand to her and seeing how long it took for [Y/N] to acknowledge his presence. It never ceased to make her feel beautiful. “Can we…” his fingers danced over the button on her jeans.
“Can we what…?” She asked coyly.
Art blushed, but smirked and lowered his lips by [Y/N] ear. “Can we fuck? Please?” He asked too politely for as dirty as those words were. Like the good midwestern boy that he was.
She tipped her head back further. Art kissed her neck with all the energy he could muster. “Can I not make you dinner first? You-you a cheap whore as well as old now, too?” [Y/N] jeered. Art snorted a laugh. The warm air from the giggle spread over [Y/N]’s skin, causing goosebumps to raise. “I’m never letting you leave home alone again, then.”
Art nodded against her skin, sucking and licking a spot they both new would bruise dark. The sound she let out was absolutely disgusting and Art loved it. “I would prefer to never be let out of your sight, personally.” He said when he pulled away.
“Come on, house boy… We’re havin’ dinner. And you’re gonna eat some bread,” [Y/N] said, pointing a finger at Art’s chest. He started to put up a fight about the ultra-low nonexistent amount of inactive carbs he was eating during the season, but [Y/N] kept chattering. “Stop talking. Your brain doesn’t work right without carbs. Braindead. Come on, dinner.”
“You’re bad for me.”
“I know.” [Y/N] smiled.
Normally, [Y/N] drank a cup of coffee when the pair made dinner. Art knew the pattern. He made her the cup of coffee every time. It sat mostly unfinished that night, though. She found herself heating and reheating it in the microwave as they cooked. She started to space out as he recapped the tournament in full detail, as she requested. If Art noticed, he didn’t let on. [Y/N] noticed, though. Little stood between her and coffee. She didn’t want to drink it. That was violently unusual.
“Hey, I’m gonna go piss. Can you—“
“Watch the sauce?” Art asked, indicating the creamy pesto she had on the stove while Art cleaned and cut vegetables.
“Mhm.” [Y/N] confirmed. Art slid over to take the spoon from her. He placed a hand at the bottom of her back as she walked away. Art fit perfectly into her life. It wasn’t fair how right he was for her.
She went to the upstairs bathroom instead of the downstairs one. She hoped that didn’t set off Art’s sixth sense about the way-things-had-to-be. Once upstairs, [Y/N] wasted no time yanking open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. It was overflowing, naturally. Makeup, supplements, condoms, hair ties, pill bottles, loose painkillers. It was a disaster. There was also a pregnancy test.
A laughing Art had given it to [Y/N] as a joke the morning after their wedding night and she had hit him hard enough to bruise across the chest. The test sat wrapped and in the box behind the mirror every day since. Just in case.
[Y/N] had officially arrived at just in case.
She gingerly tossed the empty box under the sink so Art wouldn’t see it without looking for it. Then, [Y/N] undid the buttons on her overalls and, well, took the test.
Lacking the time to sit and watch it come back positive or negative, [Y/N] tossed the clean cap on the stick, slid it into the pocket of her overalls, washed her hands and went downstairs like nothing was wrong.
Except she knew something was wrong. Now she felt like she had a loaded gun in her pocket. She was too cautious with her movements due to the fear that the test would slip out of her front right pocket in front of Art.
She was damn near about to step into the pantry and shut the door just to see if the pee stick had one line or two. If he wasn’t already suspicious, that would do it. [Y/N] felt that the anxiety created was easily the worst anxiety she had ever had. Oops.
[Y/N] got quiet. She was talking less and listening more. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but she was a chatterbox. Art would notice her blanched face and wrinkled brow eventually, she worried.
Ever the perceptive bastard, Art did. When he sat beside [Y/N] at the counter to eat a bowl of pasta with more inactive carbs than he had eaten in six months, he kept cutting his eyes at her. His bare foot nudged her ankle. Her dish was relatively untouched. “You good, babe? You’re being weird.”
“I’m not being weird.”
“You are being weird because you’re not being you. I’ve barely asked you how you’re doing with all the excitement. Long day?” Art asked, setting down his fork to drag his hand across the back of her shoulders.
“Yeah, a bit.” [Y/N] said. What she meant to say was I have a pregnancy test and I bet it is positive in my pocket right now and I’m so terrified that I can practically smell my pit stains right now, baby. But she didn’t say that.
Art spun to face her, taking in her expression and demeanor. There was that contemplative knot perched between his eyebrows. The back of his hand landed calmly on [Y/N]’s forehead to check her temperature. “Art…” [Y/N] said, pushing his hand down.
“No, hang on.” Art said firmly. He tried to put his hand back on her face. Instead, not having a clue what it said, [Y/N] reached into her front right pocket and slammed the pregnancy test down between them. Art retracted his hand and flinched back a bit at the sudden movement. The test was face down on the counter.
Art’s eyes cut from the test back to her. His face was suddenly very solemn. “Are you—“
“—I dunno. I didn’t-I couldn’t look. It’s been in my pocket for twenty minutes. No idea.”
“Do you think you are?”
[Y/N] shrugged and looked at her bowl. It looked too green. sick sick sick. drip drip drip said the faucet.
“Do you want to know if you are?” Art asked wide-eyed. “I want to know, personally. Do… Do you?”
Again, [Y/N] shrugged. “If we don’t look, it’s not real.”
“…That’s stupid.” Art shook his head.
“You’re stupid.”
Art sighed. “I’m gonna look. I mean, I’m going to turn it over,” his eyes frantically reached for [Y/N]’s. He grabbed her hand with his to get her attention. “I’m going to look. Is that okay with you?”
“Yeah.” She whispered and it was okay.
And she was pregnant.
Two blue lines stared at them.
“Fuck.” [Y/N] said. She felt both elated and humiliated. She wanted so badly to be a mother. She wanted to cry. How could they keep it? The timing was wrong. She hadn’t agreed to this. The two of them had so many fights about it. She barely understood how this happened. She thought they were being so careful. It didn’t make any sense. Every precaution she could think of had been taken at one point or another.
And the fucking faucet was still dripping. She could hear it. drip drip drip. Over and over.
“Fuck.” She said sliding out of her chair and standing unsteadily. That wasn’t the result one should feel when they get something they have spent so long wanting.
Art ran his hands through his hair. He knew he shouldn’t be smiling when she looked so worried. His face betrayed the wide smile he hoped to hide. That’s exactly what he wanted to see. Fuck.
“Honey… Hey, hey. You’re okay. This is awesome. C’mere.” Art said like he was diffusing a bomb. His arm were wide open to hold her.
“Art…”
“No, uh-uh. Just come here. Please.”
Cautiously, [Y/N] made her way into her favorite pair of arms in the world. “It’s not supposed to be like this.” [Y/N] choked out as Art held her.
“Shh, I know, I know,” Art said calmly. His left hand’s fingers brushed her hair away from her face. “But that’s how it is now. We have to accept that and solve for the next move, right?” It was silent for a while after that. [Y/N]’s arms were tightly wrapped around Art’s shoulders and their bowls of pasta were certainly cold. She felt that she had ruined everything.
She glanced at Art’s face. The small smile betrayed him. “Art… We can’t. Not now.” she had told Art not now so many times that it felt forced and rehearsed. Now that [Y/N] that was actually pregnant, she wanted nothing more than to stay pregnant. The timing was far from good. She had articles that were still very due the next day. She had a husband who very much traveled often for work (who she traveled with too). She had Cheese, who was staring at her weird over the back the couch because he didn’t understand crying.
“What do you mean we can’t?” Art said quietly. “We-We can. We… have. We are… Actively.” He fumbled.
“We can. We did! But… You know now’s not a good time, baby.” [Y/N] countered weakly.
Art’s hands never left [Y/N]’s waist. “Let’s run pros and cons.”
“Pretty baby.” She said accusatorially. Good old analytic Art…
“Let’s run pros and cons.” Art repeated unflinchingly. He sprang up off of his barstool to gather a sharpie and a legal pad from some drawer. Art uncapped the marker harshly with his teeth. Cap between his teeth still, he asked: “Do you want it?” while he found a clean, smooth page.
Before she could respond with her head, [Y/N] responded with her heart. She nodded a yes to him immediately. “Do you?”
Art capped the back end of the marker to free up his mouth. “More than anything ever, I think. It would probably kill me a little bit, actually, if… Yeah. I understand and it’s all up to you, honey, but… Yeah.” His hand created a PRO column and a CON column on the page.
Under PRO, Art added the items he knew would cause no trouble in his blocky capitalized handwriting:
FINALLY START FAMILY
NATURAL/EASY START
SEASON ALMOST OVER
[Y/N] HAS FLEXIBLE HRS
DREAM COME TRUE??
WILL BE GR8 PARENTS
[Y/N] nodded in approval. She couldn’t think of more pros, but Art handed her the marker and she started in on the CON list:
OLYMPICS??
ART’S NEVER HOME
EXPENSIVE
SMOKING/COFFEE
CHEESE JEALOUS?
TOO YOUNG!
Art drew the line at giving up stimulants and assigning the dog human traits and struck both of those off the list with a frown.
Frankly, Art thought the cons list turned out rude.
“I haven’t qualified for the Olympics yet,” he protested. “And if I do, imagine how early on that would be. Before all the hard stuff.”
[Y/N] replied with the thing they both knew was the most real problem. She had waited forever to say it out loud. “No offense… You are never home anymore. You’re busy all the time. Which I get. It’s your job. You’re good at your job. But look how excited the fuckin’ dog got to see you because you were gone so long. You are never here. We can’t put a human in doggy day camp all the time. It would be fucking impossible to raise—“
“I’ll quit,” Art said, wincing. He wouldn’t. [Y/N] felt that this was a bluff. He tried in vain to hide his expression of shame. “I’ll quit tennis.” He said. He wasn’t going to.
“That would worsen the problem. No money.”
“I’ll work at the 7/11. I’ll be a construction worker. I could be a fuckin’ coach. I actually have a degree, y’know, I can use it. I’m more than a racket. I don’t want you to feel alone here. I want to be here for all of it, I can—“
“You know I’m alone here a lot, babe. A lot. You don’t… You’re in a position where you’re unable to help constantly. Because you’re gone. That’s okay. I married you knowing that, right? But a baby, Art? That’s not fair.”
“I’ll bail on a season. I will. I just…” Art stared at her. “Please. I’m begging you. See this kid through with me.”
The sharpie was forgotten on the counter along with dinner. Art’s knees landed on the floor before [Y/N]. Art practically lived on his knees in front of [Y/N]. He gathered [Y/N] hands in his. “Please. It’s your call, but hear me out. Because that thing is part of both us. I don’t want you to hate or resent me or the little stinker forever, but you want it. I know that. Hear me out.” His beautiful two-tone eyes stared up at her.
“Fine. Go ahead.”
“I will give you anything. Please, my world is you. Not tennis; you. I’m telling you, I-I would leave that behind to be anything you need right now. Just ask it. You’re my fucking priority, you got that? I just.. I… Please? I’m not going anywhere.”
“I want to keep it too, but—“
“Then what’s the big deal?” Art asked hopefully.
“It isn’t a good time. It’s too soon.”
Art’s mouth trailed kisses across his wife’s stomach and hips and hands and arms. He let this go on for several minutes. “Please,” Art whimpered pathetically into the skin of her wrist. “Please, please, please. I will do anything, my love. I’m on my knees here,” Art looked up at her through thick lashes. “We can do this. Both of us together. I’ll do whatever you want. You know I will. This can be good for us. I’m really sorry we’re here, but here we are, hon. What time’s going to be the right time? Please. I love you.” Art pleaded desperately.
[Y/N] knew this was going to be a disaster. But she wanted to keep it. What time’s going to be the right time? rung in her ears over and over, like the faucet. They had put so much time into arguing about the time and the place that would be right for a family. Now it was right in front of them. Her hand caressed Art’s face. She loved it when he groveled like that. This time, on his knees and everything. On instinct, he nuzzled his face into her hand and looked up at her through long lashes.
“Will you fix the faucet? It’s been dripping all week.”
“Anything.”
“I’ll… I’ll think about it. I’m going to think about it. The baby.”
“You will?” Art’s teary eyes widened.
“Objectively, this is a terrible fucking idea. We both know that. But if it’s really so terrible, why do I feel, like… happy about it…”
Art’s face lit up. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either. [Y/N], honestly, found it very hard to say no to Art. His arms wrapped carefully around her thighs while his head rested against her middle as he knelt. [Y/N] could feel his silver ring through the denim of her overalls. “God, I love you. I love you, [Y/N]. We’re not going to regret this. Holy shit…”
“Love you too. We’re gonna… We’re gonna try, maybe? This doesn’t feel real. Does this feel real? I…”
“It feels like a dream is what it feels like,” Art mumbled into her clothes. “I love you.” Art said, pressing a kiss to her stomach.
“I love you.”
“I’m gonna be a dad…” Art almost wept. “If you, y’know, but… Shit. I’m sorry.” Which part he was apologizing for was unclear.
At that, [Y/N] laughed and tangled her fingers in his curly blonde mop of hair. “Yeah, you’re gonna be a fucking dad, pretty baby.” She smiled.
[Y/N]’s next instinct was to say: I have to call Patrick. Then she remembered couldn’t call Patrick.
TAGLIST (ask to join):
@diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @shysstuff @soberbabes @avylanchce
apologies for tag issues. i’ll dm those it didn’t work for!
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cherriesformatt · 2 days
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vlog day || matt sturniolo
matt x fem!reader
summary: you said yes to being in the vlog while spending time with ur best friends and your boyfriend.
warnings: none
word count:
a/n: have a good day ily
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🍒
“Are you filming already?” I asked sitting at the table and putting stuff in my purse.
I was cleaning it because I couldn’t find my favorite lipstick anywhere.
“Yes, you said it’s okay if we film the vlog with you right?” Nick asked me and I nodded.
“Yes, yes look guys!” I looked at the camera and brought a gift bag closer to me.
“So I said few days back that I wasn’t feeling that good lately like you know mentally because I had a lot of work and stress. I came in here this morning and this was on the table with my name on it” I showed the bag.
“Look what Chris and Nick got me” I laughed showing the camera the coffee cup with triplets photos on it.
“We know you love coffee so… you know you can look every morning at people who brings you joy in your life” Nick laughed behind the camera.
“Yes and you know what’s the funniest part? They only put one photo of Matt” I said and stood up when I saw Chris coming up with the new Dr Pepper.
“It’s finally here people let’s try it” he said.
“He is constantly talking about it let’s just get over it” I whispered to the camera.
“I found your lipstick honey… oh your filming already?” Matt came from his room.
“Aww Matt you’re not beating lover boy allegations ever again” Chris laughed at him but Matt only rolled his eyes and gave me the lipstick.
“Thank you Matt” I smiled and wanted to peck his lips but I didn’t.
I didn’t want to push that I was already in the vlog. But I was exited and I said yes because us four actually didn’t spent time together for a long time now. So I was excited for some fun with my boyfriend and his brothers.
“Ladies first….”Chris gave me the can.
“Okay because if I die it’s on you…” I say and I took a sip.
It wasn’t bad but also it wasn’t my favorite.
“Meh… it’s okay but I think you and Nick will like it” I gave it back to Chris.
He made his brothers try and they had a talk about it while I went to put my converse on.
When we got into the car I sat in the back with Nick so Chris could be in front of the camera.
“So we don’t know where we’re going yet” Chris said to the camera and we all looked at it surprised it’s on.
“What? I thought we can decide on camera…” he said.
“Let’s go to Melrose I want Happy Ice” Nick said and I clapped my hands.
“Yes! Happy Ice and pizza I’m in” I said and buckled my sit belt.
We were driving with Chris talking all the time and Matt crying about every dog we pass.
“When you explain something is impossible to know what you’re talking about… it’s like I spy game with 5 years old” I told Chris.
“Well I wanted to edge on…”He started.
“Oh you want us to edge you a little? Okay…”Matt said and I gasped.
“Matthew….”I hit his arm playfully.
“Don’t even start y/n” he said and looked at me in the mirror and I winked at him.
“Anyways… how much longer? I need to peepee” I said looking at maps.
“Oh my god you’re worst than Chris sometimes babe” Matt said.
I looked at him and laughed.
“What?” I asked.
“Guys.. that’s what y/n always does. 20 minutes before we left she said she needs to pee but instead going to the bathroom she did like 100 other things and she forgot to go and its like that every time we go out” Matt said.
“Woow sir what is this? Telling each other icks or what?” Nick asked looking at us.
“I would say about her hair in the bathroom everywhere” Matt added.
“Fair enough… I would say about your hair in the sink after you shave and we would be even” I laughed.
“And I would say your underwear under my couch when you guys forget you don’t live alone” Nick said and I covered my mouth with my hand.
“Shut up it was once” I said.
“Nah like three times” Chris said and I covered my whole face with my hands.
“We not putting this in the video and stop making her uncomfortable” Matt laughed.
“We were uncomfortable!” Nick yelled.
“Okay done with my sex life let’s talk about the weather or about how ugly is this persons outfit” I said when we stopped on red.
“Omg but look they are so cute having photo shoot together” Nick said and I smiled.
“Awww look how he’s holding her stuff for her” I said.
When we got to the pizza place I ordered for us and looked at the boys filming in the corner.
“Matt please don’t do that it actually sends shivers down my spine “I told him looking at him opening the water bottle with his teeth.
“Here I need to go to the bathroom” I gave him order numer and went into the toilet.
We ate in the car talking shit about people and than we got to the happy ice and I was holding the camera.
“Guys if he won’t take cherry for me I’m going to break up with him. I told him he needs to guess what I want” I whispered to the camera.
“Here I bought cherry flavored for you?” He came up to me with the desert and I smiled.
“Ah still need that anniversary gift then” I said to the camera when Matt took it from me and looked at me confused but I only smiled at him.
We walked around while we ate and then we came back to the car. While we were driving I saw a very handsome guy and me an Nick made a funny face in the same time looking after him.
“This guy was so hot!!” Nick yelled and I gave him high 5.
“ I knew you’re going to say that!” Chris said.
“y/n I’m not talking to you anymore” Matt said and I made a sad face.
“You love me Matty he was like 4 you are a 10” I said and he smiled.
“So technically you think I’m a 10?” Chris asked.
“Well yes but then you open your mouth” I said and everyone laughed.
When we came home I took my shoes off and sat down on the couch when boys finished up the video.
“Okay we’re done… that was fun thanks for coming with us and filming” nick said and he sat down next to me.
“I had fun too! I hope everyone is not going to kill me for being in the video” I said.
“They’re going to love you” he said and I smiled.
“Movie night?” Matt asked from the kitchen.
“Movie night!” I said happily.
He smiled and me and I hugged a pillow close to me. I was so relaxed after spending day with them. Nick was right. They were my favorite humans in the whole world.
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wittlesissyb4by · 19 hours
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Alphabet Soup
She really could steep so low when she was angry. He wasn’t suggesting she was dumb. He was just saying he’s smarter than her. Logically, there’s gotta be one above the other in a relationship, doesn’t there??
Ryan always prided himself on his intelligence. Constantly correcting people’s grammar, inserting a fun fact, discussing philosophy at length, and the only reason people spaced out when he started relaying the Socratic method of question and answer was because they couldn’t possibly match his intellect. But, most importantly, he always had to let Wren know when she was wrong, he couldn’t have her going around embarrassing him with inaccuracies. Just the other day she said there’s “got to be a million mosquitos out tonight”, and obviously there couldn’t possibly be that much. As smart he was, he couldn’t understand why she would get so butthurt about him correcting her in front of all of their friends. 
“You treat me like I’m stupid, Ryan! All the fucking time. I’m a doctor for crying out loud! I may not know everything, but I’m not an idiot!” She was white hot, taking sharp breaths to keep her blood from overheating. “And you know what? Not that it matters or I would ever fucking care, but do you ever think maybe, just maybe, I could know a little bit more than you about certain subjects? Like, everyone has their strengths Ryan…”
She looked at him expectantly, glaring into his soul, could he just admit he was wrong about something for once? Ryan could have kept himself from smiling–if he was just a smidge less smug. “I’m sorry, but in the years we’ve been dating, I just haven’t found something you’re smarter than me at. And if you really believe in hypnosis, you may be dumber than I thought…”
Steam erupted from Wren’s ears.
“Jesus, you are the most arrogant asshole I have ever met!”
“What??” Ryan scoffed exaggeratedly, throwing up his hands as Wren stormed off, “I’m just saying that that hypno bullshit is a bunch of crap! I don’t care how many so called ‘studies’ you try to show me! There’s no way you could possibly think that works!!”
Wren stopped in her tracks, clenching her fists. She wanted to just go into the room, slam the door, and make him sleep on the fucking couch, but she just couldn’t let him win this one. She couldn’t let him even think he had her beat, even if it was just in his own fucked up head. 
Letting out a hefty sigh to maintain her composure, she pivoted on her heels. “How about this…” She said through gritted teeth, “you think you’re sooo smart? Well we’ll see. I’ll bet you that in one month, I can drop your IQ down to less than 20.”
Ryan had no choice but to absolutely guffaw at the proposition. “Are you kidding? Twenty?! Wren, my IQ is at least 140, no way you could actually lower it. Much less by that much! I mean, Twenty?! That’s like, the average IQ of a todd–”
“Do we have a deal or not?!” Wren interrupted with rolling eyes.
“Well you haven’t set the stakes, young lass.” He said with a swaggering smirk, “What do I get if I win?” Ryan replied, crossing his arms.
It was Wren’s turn to scoff. “Pshh, I really don’t care…cause you’re not going to win. Name your prize.”
“Blowjob.” Ryan said almost without a thought, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even gotten one. He had no idea why.
“Fine.” Wren said without even blinking.
“Every day.”
“Sweetie,” she said, softening her tone as she brushed a hand to his cheek, bringing her face so close that he could feel her breath on his lips, then let out a whisper, “If you can maintain an IQ above 50, I’ll give you three of them! Every day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
Ryan laughed, unable to find this preposterous notion any more amusing. “You’re really that confident?”
“If you agree to my methods without putting up a fuss? Yes. I absolutely am. I bet I can make you so stupid in just a month that you won’t even remember the fucking alphabet by the time I’m done with you!””
Ryan grinned from ear to ear. This was going to be the easiest bet of his life. His balls would never be full. 
“You’re on.”
******
Ryan scoffed at the patronizing nature of it. Was she really going to make him use his left hand?
“You have to color while you listen to the tape.” Wren told him when she placed a crayon in his hand. She sat him down ‘criss-cross applesauce’ in front of a little table with a coloring book on it. Wren flipped it open to the first page, which had a big letter ‘A’ on it. 
“Now Ry-Ry, can you tell me what letter this is?” She asked in a sardonic tone. 
“It’s an A.” Ryan grumbled, rolling his eyes. 
“And can you tell me what ‘A’ stands for?”
“Apple, asparagus, aardvark, apostesism…”
“Very good, Ry-Ry!!” She clapped mockingly, pulling out a large set of headphones. “Now you just sit here and color your wittle pages while you listen to this lovely music! I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours…”
“Hours??” Ryan repeated incredulously. Was she really going to make him sit and do a fucking coloring book for that long? There were much better things he could be doing with his time. But he had to play her game. A bet was a bet, and he planned to prove her wrong. 
She tapped something on her phone and the music kicked on shortly after. Much to Ryan’s chagrin, it wasn’t even good mysic like Bach or Tchaikovsky or even Tame Impala, it was some nursery lullaby bullshit, but with a weird reverb effect added to it. He could also hear faint little voices in the background, but they were too drowned out by the other noises for him to discern what they were saying. He could only pick out certain words like ‘baybee’ and ‘diapers’ and ‘poo poo’s”, which made sense, because it was nursery rhymes. 
He found himself zoning out, but that was just from the sheer boredom of it all. He was better than this. He’d submitted dissertations on complex epigenetic interactions of the human genome, and now he was just coloring the letter A a hundred times over. 
How was she going to make hom forget the alphabet if she was ‘teaching’ them to him? Maybe she was just exaggerating, it’s literally impossible to forget something that’s been embedded in his brain since before school even started. 
After what felt like an eternity, she finally came over and tapped him on the shoulder, removing the headphones. His mind was a little hazy, but again, it was probably just from the lack of any complex thought for the first time in his life. She shooed him and allowed him to resume his more age-appropriate activities. 
*****
The next day went much like the first, except instead of ‘A’, he was doing the letter ‘B’. 
“Boredom, beneath, balderdash.” Ryan sighed, listing off words to convey how ridiculous this whole thing was. 
“And…” Wren said, placing something down on the table next to the Crayons. “ Bottle.”
Ryan chuckled heartily. It was an actual bottle. A baby bottle, with a little nipple and everything. 
“You can’t be serious.”
“Do you give up?”
“No.” Ryan said quickly, “but i’m not drinking…whatever that is. Especially not out of that!”
Wren just shrugged. “You don’t have to, but it’s there if you get hungry.”
She put the headphones over his ears once more, clicked them on, and left the room. 
Ryan was already over this whole thing, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of quitting. He swirled the blue crayon through the loops of the big B’s while the music played. The little voices seemed to be louder this time, but it still wasn’t worth paying attention to. 
About halfway through his 4 hour session though, Ryan’s mouth felt a bit dry. Something at the back of his throat was pulsing. His cheeks felt empty.  For whatever reason, he needed to have something in there. 
At first he bit his nails. That was nice, for a little. But that soon turned to his finger tip, and eventually his whole thumb. 
After another hour of suckling his fingers, he looked to the bottle. He was hungry, and Wren refused to give him cheerios and goldfish like she did yesterday. 
He picked up the bottle, pressing the rubber nipple to his lips. Jesus that felt good! He gave a little suckle, then another, then gagged. The liquid wasn’t milk, it was…something else. It tasted awful. But he couldn’t stop drinking. The nipple felt too good in his mouth, it was worth putting up with the disgusting flavor. 
He finished every last drop. 
Wren had to practically pry the bottle from his hands when it was time to remove his headphones. Ryan couldn’t explain why he was so attached to it all of a sudden. Why was he getting so angry and flustered over such a silly thing?
Thankfully, Wren had an alternative ready, another ‘B’ word:
Binky. 
******
Ryan sucked on it the whole night. His cheeks ached in the morning, but luckily a fresh bottle helped to ease the pain. 
His brain felt fuzzy, but it was probably because he didn’t sleep that well. He was too busy worrying about the binky possibly falling out of his mouth while he slept. 
The lack of sleep was also why he couldn’t think of complicated ‘C’ words. He could only come up with ‘Car’, Cat, and whatever the word is for the thing you put water and juice in. 
Luckily, after his hypno session, Wren had the perfect thing to help him sleep better: a Crib. 
******
Something happened that night. Maybe his bottle leaked, or maybe it was the ceiling. But when he rolled over from his cramped position in the undersized crib, the sheets were warm and wet. 
Wren assured him that this happens all the time but, just in case, she had something for him to wear. 
Ryan threw an absolute fit when he saw what it was. She was holding up a big giant diaper. 
He tried to tell her off, but his mind was too foggy to form a coherent argument. He really wasn’t sleeping well. 
Still, he tried to fight her when she took his hands and laid him down, but his arms and legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. It felt like he was moving through molasses. 
She had him on his back. He stared at the clouds on the ceiling. Were those always there? Or was that just his vision? No, they had to be new. His whole room was starting to look different. Another large cloud floated into view. But it wasn’t a cloud, it was a diaper. 
His mind was back. She wanted him to wear a diaper. Absolutely not! This was perposter— prepos—perslweterous. 
“D’awww!! Don’t be scared!!” Wren cooed, it sounded like angels singing. “It’s just a wittle diapurr!! You’ll get used to them!”
Ryan felt something screaming inside him. Something deep down. But then Wren said “look! It has the ABC’s printed on it!” And that made him feel better. He recognized those letters, even though he couldn’t think of much else. 
But the padding felt weird when she slid it underneath him. Not bad. Just…weird. Different. Like something wasn’t right. 
He started squirming on the floor, flailing as much as he could, but even in his foggy vision he could see that his arms were only making minor twitches. 
So he did the only thing he knew he could do: he started crying. C-c-Crying. That starts with a C! He knew that for sure. He was so smart. 
He felt the tears slide down his face, one after another. He could hear his wails, could hear how ridiculous it sounded, but he didn’t want to stop. That is, until something rubbery entered his mouth. Then he immediately stopped crying, and felt instantly better. 
He suckled the binky while Wren made a cloud of powder between his legs. He watched as she pulled the diaper up and taped it on. It was hard for him to explain—especially now—but he felt this amazing sense of comfort once it was on. He really liked it. Which may be why something warm and sticky formed inside the diaper almost immediately. 
He spent the rest of the day coloring in ‘D’s’ while wearing his diaper. 
A few times he had to get up to use the restroom, but Wren insisted the headphones needed to stay on, even if his diaper was down. A very agitating song played the entire time he was on the toilet, and the words that the voices used were not very nice. It made him feel bad, very bad, almost guilty for doing something so silly as using the potty. 
Ryan didn’t get a bottle that night, just some chicken nuggets that Wren had taken the liberty of cutting into tiny pieces for him. 
When he was done, she took him by the hand to his new room. He didn’t know why, he didn’t need her help, but without her he probably would have gotten lost. Not because he was dumb, but because he just wasn’t used to sleeping in the guest room. 
Wren stopped in front of his new crib, making a show of checking his diaper. Another absurd display, just because he was playing her little game and wearing this stupid garment didn’t mean he would actually use it. So when she was finally satisfied that every square centimeter was not wet or ‘messy’, he climbed into the crib. 
When he laid back on the plastic mattress, he noticed there was a new mobile hanging above him. It had little geometric shapes and symbols that he didn’t feel like naming right now because he was tired, he could definitely do it if he wanted to though!
She placed his binky in his mouth and he gratefully accepted it, he was terrified of having to spend the night without something in his mouth.
Wren clicked a little button and the dangling shapes on the mobile started to spin. It was mesmerizing, even more so because it played a happy little tune from the speakers. The very same tune that played through his headphones earlier that day.
 ******
Ryan’s diaper was plump and swollen the next morning. His mind wasn’t as fuzzy, so he must have finally gotten a good night's sleep. 
Wait, his brain said, finally catching on to what was happening. He was in a diaper, and he’d wet it. Several times by the feel of it. 
Wren was smiling when she came through the door, even though Ryan was spewing vitriol. The words were coming easier to him again, but so was the gravity of his situation. Had she really been making him wear diapers and drink from bottles??
Wren continued to smile like a mother letting her little one get his tantrum out. Ryan hung over the bars of the crib, he was too scared to climb out himself, but he wasn’t scared to call Wren all sorts of names. 
After almost a minute of Ryan’s blabbering, Wren had had enough. She clicked a button on her phone which made the little mobile over Ryan’s bed start whirring again. Playing that tune that Ryan was really starting to grow attached to. 
Suddenly, Ryan didn’t even feel like calling Wren a bitch any more. He wasn’t even sure what that meant. Instead, he let out a hefty sigh, and brought his thumb to his mouth. He couldn’t find his pacifier. 
“How’s your diaper, little one? Did somewon have an uh oh’s last night?”
Even though Ryan was calm, he still felt this combative stirring rising from his chest. Something was wrong. He knew he wasn’t supposed to wear diapers. He knew he was too old for them. And he definitely knew he wasn’t supposed to pee in them. He shook his head ‘no’ in an exaggerated fashion. 
“No? You didn’t have an accident?” Wren tisked, squeezing the saturated padding, “what is this then?”
Ryan could feel shame welling up inside him. He was a grown man and he’d pissed inside a pair of pampers. He couldn’t even remember doing it. It was all while he was asleep, while those stupid songs were playing. He would do better. This would never happen again. She might have had an upper hand on him, getting him to agree to the diapers and cutesy shit, but he was not about to—wait. Was that a bottle??
He made grabby hands at the little container of off-white liquid, practically spilling some when he snatched it away from her. 
She let the bars of the crib down, allowing him to clamber out, rubber nipple not leaving his mouth. He would have walked, but he felt it was easier to scooch around on his knees.
About halfway through the liquid, Ryan felt something stirring in his tummy. 
“What is it, dear?” Wren asked sweetly, placing her hands on her knees while she smiled down at him. 
“I have to go potty.” Ryan said, unsure why he said it like that. 
“Oh?” Wren asked, looking overly surprised, “is it #1 or #2?”
Ryan couldn’t understand why she was talking about numbers right now. Wren giggled at what must have been a perplexed look. 
“Do you have to go pee pee or poo poo?” She clarified. 
“Poo poo.” Ryan said, feeling his face flush. Something told him this was a weird conversation with a little too much information, but he brushed that away. 
“D’aww! You need to make poopies?!” Wren exclaimed exaggeratedly, “well you don’t wanna have to go all the way to the bathroom do you? It’s a pretty long way…”
She was right. It was a long way, and his legs did feel tired…
“Hmmm…mayybee…” she said, deep in thought, tapping her chin, “maybe you could just use your diaper?”
The very thought was revolting. She wanted him to make a stinky poo’s all over himself? “Na uh! No way!” 
She dangled the binky in front of his face, “I'll give you a little present if you make a present for Mommy!”
Ryan immediately agreed, and he got to suck on his binky the entire time he was crouching down, pushing a warm load of mush into his pampers. 
Wren was so proud of him. She clapped and cheered and giggled uncontrollably, even while she pinched her nose and teased him about the smell. 
But with the warmth came a deep sense of displeasure. Disgust. A part of Ryan’s brain was ridiculing him for what he just did. The words were coming back to him now. 
“You’re doing something to me!” Ryan shouted. He knew it was wrong. Something was happening to him, he couldn’t figure out what, but he knew that the normal him wouldn’t like it! “Stop all this right now! Whatever it is you’re doing isn’t fair! You’ve got me shitting myself! I’m not doing this anymore! I’m not gonna—“
“Shhh…” Wren smiled, placing a hand to his droopy diaper. “Don’t be sad!” She whispered softly. Her voice was like honey, l angelic, the greatest sound in the whole world. “I’m your Mommy, remember? I’m right here.”
Ryan could feel his anger and shame evaporating from his body. 
“Do you want me to stop all of this?” She asked, rubbing her palm against the bulge of his diaper. “Do you want me to take your binky away?”
Ryan’s eyes immediately went wide. Why would she even say such a thing? Why would she need to take his binky??
“Nooo you don’t want that do you?”
Ryan heard himself whimpering, felt his head shaking. 
“And what about your diapers? Do you not like your diapers?”
No. He didn’t like them at all. They were sweaty and itchy, but they were also sooo soft…
“Do you think you should stop wearing them?”
His head moved up and down. 
“But what if you have another accident? What if you wet the bed again? That would be really embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”
It would. She was right. It would be embarrassing. 
“But if you wear a diaper you don’t have to worry about that do you? All your messes go in there! You don’t even have to walk all the way to the potty! You can use them any time, anywhere!”
She was making such good points. She always made good points. She really was so smart. 
Still, some weird logical part of his brain was firing again. 
“But I’m a big boy!” Ryan whined around his binky. 
“Oh?” Wren asked, shaken. “Do…big boys have accidents?”
Another great point. 
“And big boys surely wouldn’t use diapers, even on purpose!” Wren said, turning into a very scary tone. “But what did you just do, Ry-Ry?”
Ryan’s face flushed. “I pooped them.”
“You did what?”
“I made poo-poo’s…” he could feel the tears welling up again. He wasn’t even sure why. All of this was so confusing. 
“Awww! Don’t be sad!” Wren cooed, switching to that heavenly tone once more, “good baybees use their diapurrs all the time! Like you just did!!”
Ryan smiled, a flood of warmth seeped through his chest, and maybe also into his diaper as well. 
“And baybees that are good get to make a different type of mess, too!”
Ryan wasn’t sure what that meant, but Wren started rubbing the front of his diaper, squeezing it, massaging it, and that felt really good. 
“Tell me you’re a good baybee!” She said, rubbing faster. 
“I’m a good baybee!” Ryan squeaked. 
“Tell me what you did in your diaper.”
“I made pee pee’s and poo poo’s”
“Do you like making messies in your diapurrs?”
“Yes”
“Yes Mommy.” She corrected.
“Yes Mommy!”
“Which do you like to use better? The pampers? Or the potty?”
“The potty.”
She stopped rubbing. 
Panic coursed through Ryan’s veins. He was so close!
“Pampers!!” He corrected, “I prefer peeing and pooping pampers!!”
The rubbing started again. 
“Every time you poop your pampers, Mommy will give you a reward!” She said. 
Ryan nodded, moaning and groaning while Wren rubbed his defiled diaper. It felt so wrong, so disgusting, but he couldn’t stop her. He couldn’t tell her no, because it also felt so good!
It felt even better when he started spasming, and another warm load leaked into the padding. 
Wren patted his padded butt. “Such a good baybee!”
Even with her kind words, a huge rush of shame hit Ryan in the face. His horniness was gone, the haze was lifting, his complex thoughts were coming back, and so was his attention to this disgusting diaper! 
“Wren what the fuck are you doing to—“
But he couldn’t hear himself say the rest, because the headphones were back on his ears, and that lovely tune was playing again. His mind melted away, but before it did he could see her place the book in front of him again, a giant letter ‘E’ emblazoned across the page. 
“You just stay right here and finish your coloring” Wren said, even though he probably couldn’t hear her. He was laying down flat on his tummy, swishing back and forth in his pissy, poopy pamper, smiling and humming the little tune to himself.  “I’ll be back in a few hours to change your diaper.” She continued, patting him on the bottom, “Then we’re going to learn a new ‘E’ word: Enema!”
------------------------------
21 Letters to go! What else could be in store for little Ry-Ry? This is one of my favorite stories I've ever done, so if you would like to read the rest, head on over to SubStar! It's available for all tiers!
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gxtfictx · 2 days
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you're too sweet for me - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader
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summary: You can't sleep, and Emily finds a way to kill some time TW: smut, food play, oral sex, fingering, no proofread because i'm tired asf, that's it lmk if i miss something A/N: this is probably the nastiest thing i've written to date, i hope you like it as much as me. Like & reblog
You turn over, trying not to wake up the woman who sleeps on your side, her arm wrapped around your waist.
3.35 am the bedside clock reads
Emily's apartment has always been so comfortable, you've always liked staying over, her sheets always smell like her, always a good bottle of wine on the fridge, your favorite cat wondering around, purring every time you scratched the back of his ears.
Emily’s place was starting to feel like home, and you were just so thankful for that, but right now you couldn’t sleep.
You had had a long day at work, got home after coming back from a long case, nether of you had wanted to cook, so you ordered takeout and got lost into each other for a couple of hours, you’d think that would be enough to put you to sleep, but you had the habit of having a coffee on the afternoon, and that kept you awake for a long time.
You got up from bed, slowly, to avoid waking her up. You find her shirt on the floor along with the rest of both your clothes scattered around, you put your underwear and her shirt, and walk to the kitchen to find something to eat and kill some time.
You open the fridge. There’s not much since you were out for the whole week.
You are looking for an apple on the back when you hear footsteps entering the kitchen
“Hey, what’s up? You can’t sleep?” You turn around to see your girlfriend, carrying Sergio in her arms, she’s wearing an old shirt she wears as pyjamas, her black sex hair all messy on her shoulders, she gives Sergio a kiss on the head before leaving him on the floor.
“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up” you say, she walks up to you, surrounding your waist with her arm, pulling you to peck your lips, the door of the fridge still open “there’s not much, we should go grocery shopping tomorrow” you say, laying your head on her shoulder.
She looks on the first shelf, a triumphant smile on her face when she finds what she was looking for “but there is, this” a can of whipped cream on her hand
The mischievous smile starting to form on her lips suggests she has something in mind for you
“I don’t think that is the best we can have before bed” you say trying to play it cool, she runs her hand caressing the uncovered skin between her shirt and your underwear.
“You know what? I’m hungry too” she kisses you on the lips, then your cheek, leves a soft trail of wet, soft kisses until she reaches your earlobe, tugging it between her teeth, biting it gently
“of you” her soft breath on your ear, she moves donw to kiss the curve of your neck, nipping the soft skin with her teeth.
“Lay down” she says in her most commanding voice, and you comply, you sit up on the kitchen table, the cold surface coming in contact with your naked skin.
"good girl" your girlfriends voice low and bossy, you can feel the wetness between your legs, only Emily could get you like that with only a couple of words.
She starts unbuttoning your shirt (her shirt?) slowly revealing your chest, she unbuttons your shirt, moving the fabric aside to leave your entire chest exposed, your nipples erect as they come into contact with the cool air
"this is gonna be messy, ok baby?" she looks at you in the eye, you can't look away from her, the whole scene feels tremendously erotic, completely out of breath, you can't bring yourself to form any coherent words, so you simply nod.
She leaves a soft kiss on one of your nipples, you close your eyes to the feeling, when the sound of the can and the cold snetation of the whipped cream on your sensitive bud makes you cry out in surprise
"shhh, it's ok, you look delicious like this, baby" she hastily lapped up the whipped cream, sucking your strained nipple into her mouth, making sure to gather up every last drop.
you moan beneath her, feeling her warm mouth give your nipple her undivided attention.
She straddled you on the table, and poured some more whipped cream on your neck, right on your collarbone, this time you were expecting it so the cold doesn't startle you as much.
You follow her every move, she hungrily lapes up the syrup making a sticky mess of her girlfriend’s neck. You let out little sighs and whines when Emily leaves bites along your supple skin.
Emily breaks away for a moment, meeting the your lust filled eyes. "taste good baby, so sweet" she whispers, she smirks and leaves a trail of hot, wet kisses along your sternum, her hot tongue feels like fire against your soft skin.
She takes the can again, spraying a large amount of cream on your other nipple, you could feel the wetness between your legs when her mouth assaulted your nipple, roughly licked over the pebbled bud, trapping it between her teeth, gently pulling it, the slight pain turning into instant pleasure, her tongue made sure to take the whipped cream as she did so.
She moves her head up and crashes her lips against yours, you can taste the sweetness of the cream on her lips, her tongue, a low whimper escaping your throat, she bites down on your lower lip, and uses her free hand to spray a long line of whipped cream all along your stomach.
She leaves your mouth to lick all the way down, her tongue licks your stomach all the way down to your lower stomach, taking your underwear off painfully slow.
Emily smirked and traveled lower to your navel. She ever so slowly licked up the whipped cream across your bikini line. The sweet smell of the sugar mixed with the scent of your arousal made Emily ache between her legs.
She kissed your stomach and lifted your left leg, resting it over her shoulder, eyeing your strawberry painted thigh hungrily. Your pink folds were slick and glistening with excitement, Emily drawls at the scene.
"You're soaked, baby" she whispers, and runs a finger through the slick, making you gasp. You admire the scene from your position, her eyes full of hunger, she licks her finger clean.
You bite your lip with excitement, you only want your girlfriend to dive in between your thighs and not come back for hours.
She turned and licked the smooth skin on your thighs, kissing and biting, leaving what sure would turn into purple spots by tomorrow.
As much as Emily wanted to tease you, she was getting as desperate now, she wanted to lick you up, she already knew you tasted better than any sugar.
She slowly toys at your aching clit with her fingers. Then she indulgently circles the rim of the tight entrance with the pads of her fingers.
You squirm, arching your back in protest of Emily's leisure. Satisfied with the non-verbal begging, your girlfriend curles her fingers inside you.
You buck your hips into her touch, desperately trying to create more friction.
Emily chuckles and runs her tongue from your knee to your inner thigh. A whimper escapes your lips, feeling your walls tighten around her extremities.
Once your legs are covered in saliva and the cream is almost completely gone, Emily licks her lips and admires the mess between your legs. 
“Ems please, I need you.” you beg, looking up at her pleadingly, with her seductive big brown eyes watching you.
Emily smirks and practically dives between your thighs.
You throw your head back and moan. The angelic sound only encouraged Emily more. She puts both your legs over her shoulders, as if desperate to keep you from escaping.
Emily sucks at your clit and slowly flicks over it with her tongue, all while thrusting her fingers inside those clenching walls, searching until she finds the spot that makes you scream. 
The wet walls surrounding her fingers spasm and clench around her.
“Em” you cry deliciously “right there, please don’t stop-”
Your girlfriend obliges. She can feel you getting close. Your thighs quiver with every thrust of her fingers. Your whines become increasingly shrill as your muscles squeeze.
“ Emily!” You gasp your lover’s name deliriously, your hands grabbing the sides of the table for some support.
You throw your head back as the wave of ecstasy overtakes you, arching your basck in pleasure, releasing loud whines of ecstasy.
Emily doesn't stop curling her fingers inside you until the spasms stop.
She pushes your legs off her shoulders and smiles at your soft and tired expression.
"Good?" she asks as she sees you finally opening your eyes again, you slowly regain conciousness after the strong orgasm your girlfriend had just given you
"perfect, like always, but now i'm all sticky" you answer, she moves next to you, and offers you her hand to help you, you grab it and get up from the table, surrounding her body with your arm for support
"shower then?" she asks as she peppers little kisses about your soft face for comfort.
You nod, Emily chuckles and gives your ass a firm smack, earning a purr from you. 
She wraps her arms around your neck, pulling your heads close to peck your lips softly, you walk to the bathroom attached to each other's body,
"C'mon, let's put to use the sugar rush" you say, pushing her inside the shower and lowering your head to kiss her neck.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
A/N: let's just pretend this isn't based on my thoughts every time i listen to "too sweet" by Hozier. I hope you enjoy, leave feedback is always appreciated <3
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marvelsmylife · 11 hours
Text
Second Choice part 3
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: After confirming your pregnancy you come face to face with your mate to break the news.
A/n I apologize in advance. Things are going to get sticky in the next part. Expect a lot of jealousy and feeling insecure.
Second Choice Masterlist
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Two weeks have passed since you visited the spring court, and since you got confirmation that you were indeed pregnant. You were in denial at first, but as soon as Madja took your hands into hers and repeated that you were pregnant, you started to cry.
“If you are worried about giving birth, you do not need to worry anymore,” Madja tried to reassure you that you were going to be ok. That Nesta actually changed your anatomy along with hers and Feyre's after Feyre’s first pregnancy so you would have a safe birth.
“It’s not that,” you replied, “I’m so furious with Azriel right now. The last thing I want right now is to have his baby, but I also can’t bring myself to terminate this pregnancy.”
Madja gave you a sympathetic smile before standing up and hugging you, “It's going to be ok, and don’t worry, I won’t say a word to your mate, but I do suggest you talk to someone about this. If you do not wish to keep the child, maybe you could give it up for adoption. I know a few couples who would love a child.”
You pondered Madja’s offer for several days before realizing you couldn’t give up your child. Yes, it bothered you that Azriel was the father, but at the same time, you couldn’t give the baby up because you’ll always have the guilt of giving them up. Because of that, you decided to move back to your old home in Day Court for the duration of your pregnancy.
After discussing the situation with Rhysand and Feyre, they agreed to let you move for the duration. “You know you have to tell him before you leave tomorrow,” Rhysand reminded you again that you still have to tell Azriel you were pregnant with his child and that you were moving, “You might still be mad at him, but he’s your mate and the father of your child.”
“I know,” you replied, “I just know he’s going to lose it when he finds out and do everything in his power to stop the move,” and you were right.
You called Azriel to the cabin the following day after all of your belongings were taken to the day court. You didn’t know how to break the news to Azriel, so you just blurted it out. Azriel felt his throat become dry at your words, “You’re pregnant?”
“Yes,” you replied while rubbing your tiny baby bump.
Azriel rushed to you and dropped to his knees, “I’m going to be a dad. We’re going to be a family.” Azriel placed a kiss on your stomach and tried to wrap his arms around your body, but you had to back away before he had the chance.
“Just because we’re having a baby together doesn’t mean I’m moving back. In fact, I’ve decided to go home to the day court for the duration of my pregnancy. I need to be with family and-“
“You can’t go. As your mate, I’m prohibiting you from going,” Azriel responded, “I’m the child's father, and I want to be by your side the entire time.”
At that moment, Rhysand decided to step in and intervene before things got worse, “Actually, she has every right to do this. I’ve already talked with Helion, and he’s offered her a room for her at his palace. He said that because you are the father, you are welcome to visit, but he will ban you if you cross any boundaries or make y/n uncomfortable.”
Azriel felt like his world was crumbling around him as he realized you were leaving him. “Please don’t do this y/n. Please don’t leave me,” Azriel begged.
“I’m sorry, but I have to do this. Don’t make it harder than it already is,” you responded firmly.
Your words cut Azriel deep, “Let me kiss you one last time. Please,” Azriel begged again.
You looked over at Rhysand, who gave you a knowing look. “Ok,” you whispered before you felt Azriel’s lips against yours. There was nothing but passion in the kiss you shared, and made you almost change your mind about your decision to move. Almost.
“Goodbye Azriel,” you kissed Azriel’s hands before you walked away with Rhysand.
The second you arrived at the day court, Helion embraced you, “It’s so good to have you back home y/n. We’ve missed you here.”
“I missed you guys too,” you smiled at Helion before you looked over at Rhysand who was picking a piece of lint from his jacket, “Are you going to stay awhile or-"
“No,” Rhysand replied, “I have to head back, but please enjoy yourself while you're here. But do let us know if you need anything.”
You were about to thank him for everything he had done for you when Helion interrupted, “Come now. I will have my staff set up a nursery for your child. In the meantime, I’ll show you to your room,” Helion kissed your forehead before putting his arm around you and taking you to your new room.
Rhysand didn’t miss how possessively Helion was holding onto you and wondered if you staying at the day court was a mistake.
@lilah-asteria @lees-chaotic-brain @sleepylunarwolf @iluvyewman-blog
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wrixthesley · 3 days
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cw: angst, unrequited love, you and Levi have been friends for a long time
a/n: we are having heartbreak for dinner pals
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“I’m right in front of you.”
You can’t look up at him— you don’t want to look up at him. It wouldn’t be fair for him to see that you’re the one crying even though he’s the one whose heart broken.
“I’m sorry.”
Why are you even apologizing? It’s meek, a sad attempt to bandaid your lack of awareness. It doesn’t even begin to soothe the rejection Levi is facing.
You can’t help but be a little upset too, you’re trying to keep your breathing even. You even imagine the box breathing technique he had taught you when he came over one night you were anxious.
“You had all this time, Levi”
“I know.”
You’re getting married. He knows this, but it’s not his fault his chest hurt and his eyes widened when he saw you in your wedding dress. He meant to keep his affection towards you completely platonic in the best way he could and he would have if he never saw you in your dress.
It’s not right, he’s had years to tell you how he’s felt. He knows this, but he can’t help the bitterness that builds in the back of his throat, harsh words threatening to spill because he doesn’t understand how dense you are. It has been so obvious to everyone except you, he’s frustrated at how oblivious you have been.
“I can’t leave him standing there waiting for me. He’s so kind, Levi, and his whole fucking family is waiting. My whole fucking family is waiting—so is yours!”
He doesn’t reply. He knows this would be the outcome, it’s the most logical. You wouldn’t ever break a promise so fragile.
Everything was fine until now. He planned your bridal shower, he planned your bachelorette party, he helped set up your fucking proposal, he sat with you through every heart break until you met Erwin.
It was him, it was all him.
“Levi”
“I know, it’s okay”
He makes his way over to the vanity where you were getting ready. Sees the necklace that his mom had given to you as a gift, you don’t need to know it was his idea.
He picks it up gently and places it around your neck, the pendant sits beautifully on your chest. He’s fidgeting with the clip to fasten it, the tiny lever difficult to move.
“I remember you asked me once after a break up you had in college, why was it so hard to find someone to love you.”
He hooks it on to the loop that he knows you like the majority of your necklaces on.
“I’ve been right in front of you this whole time.”
His fixes the veil in your hair. He places it so gently into the updo that his mom had spent so much time on. You wonder if she knew.
“I love you so deeply” he whispers, looking you over.
You’re his favorite bride, so perfect.
You start to cry. You feel the tears spill, unable to focus on anything expected his confession to you.
“Don’t cry. I had all this time right?” He pats your tears away with a tissue and gentleness that’s foreign even to himself.
He pulls you towards the door, it’s time.
You place your hand into the crook of his elbow, he promised to walk you to Erwin. You can’t help but begin to tear up again. Fuck, you said you weren’t going to cry.
To everyone it looks like you’re just extra sentimental; your closest and longest friend giving you away at your wedding would bring anyone to tears.
The music doesn’t do any good to drown out the thoughts in your head or to stop Levi’s confession from replaying over and over again.
When you’re walking down, everything is blury due to your tears. You start to wonder what would have happened if you had picked up on Levi’s feelings—if he would have told you sooner. Would you be happy walking to Levi instead?
You both stop when you finally make it to your soon to be husband. Levi let’s you go and Erwin takes your hand. You turn to look at Levi who avoids your gaze. It’s too much for him, truly. He already has to sit through the wedding of the one person he loves. It sends you into another bout of tears.
“It’s okay, I’m right in front of you, baby” Erwin is trying to be comforting when he says it.
You wish he would have chosen different words.
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kankuroplease · 1 day
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can you make a Hc for Elke or Leonie please 🐾🖌🎨?but you don't have to, I mean, do you enjoy doing Hcs, doing Hcs and drawing it's because we like doing it it's a little pleasure. I don't want it to be boring work for you so you don't have to do an Hc 😊🖤
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OC headcons aren’t boring to me, but they’re a lot of work. It’s why I skip some request for them 😆 but I’ll do short versions for both Leonie and Elke
Leonie
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She’s the eldest of the triplets
She was also the worst of their children in temperament as she would have tantrums over every little thing
Which, thankfully, she grew out of with time
Instead preferring to paint the side of their home, herself, and brothers with mud
She has piebaldism like father, grandmother, and two brothers
Even though she’s not alone in having it, she’s extremely self conscious about it as it’s not just her forelock or one one two patches. It’s all over her body
Which led to some mean comments from other kids
her sense of smell wasn’t heightened at all, so she felt less than her siblings and would cry to her mother about it
Despite feeling left out, her triplet Mika always made sure she was involved
It’s why he became her first muse when she got more seriously into art (he’s so nice compared to their triplet, Sena)
She did not want a ninken, but her parents insisted having one would make her feel more included with the Inuzuka
The compromised and ended up getting her one that’s a bit more self sufficient and also very small (a requirement of hers)
her father noticed she really enjoyed art and he made it his mission to get her an easel and materials to create with. Mika just made it easier to create
Her and Sena always argued. Not because of how he treated her, but because he was mean towards Mika
Asahi did a good job scaring off her bullies for her, but he also told her to use her fist. Their parents are shinobi, don’t let this peaceful little life fool her into thinking she can’t throttle these kids
Kuri tried to dress her up pretty but Leonie wasn’t a fan of frills and bows. She eventually stopped trying let Leonie be the wild child she was
Frederick made the best braids and she always asked (demanded) him to do hers and dance with her
She use to ask Sena why he hated everyone so much, but eventually came to accept that he didn’t hate them. He just wanted something different than what he had.
Her and Elke were always close. She would paint to Elke’s singing and when they were older, Elke did try to introduce her to some guys too
Arashi always knew how to make her smile and laugh. If there is one sibling she was sad to have move out, it was him
By the time she reach young adulthood, she didn’t care what people thought about her and she was gain some notoriety for portraits
With some affluent customers commissioning her (thank you, Elke)
Unlike her sisters, she didn’t have some super pheromones or some Prince Charming willing to sweep her off her feet
She had a love of oddities and a new muse she found to keep her mind busy
Nothing like getting chased by some men through the woods and some blur of a humanoid creature ripping them to shreds
She blacked out and when she woke up she was closer to edge near her town
those blacked out, yet glowing, eyes really stuck with her on her walk back home
She’s not exactly sure what she saw, but her paintings of it worry her parents and she’s heard them murmuring about if it was one of “them”
They even assigned her one of her father’s ninken as a bodyguard
So she got the feeling that creature wasn’t all in her head
And decided to bring her sketches to ask her grandmother about it
Who immediately told her to stay out of the woods because that creature is most likely from a very specific clan, and much too dangerous to risk running into again
She was unsure of how or why this person was somehow here too, but if it is, then everyone should be on high alert
She also gave Leonie a good thump between the eyes as she could see her excitement building
This person was a berserker who’s unpredictable nature was too risky to be around
Much to her grandmother’s dismay, Leonie had washed the set of clothes she could have used to track this person because they were covered in dirt
Even with a sweep of the woods with the Inuzuka’s best and their ninken, nothing came of it
Just dried blood where those men who were chasing her had been slain
Elke
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She was the last girl Wolfgang and Ringo had
Their little full moon festival baby (it’s said to be a lucky time to be born)
Such a sweet and happy baby that blended into the family well
She was a quick learner in ninjutsu, polite, and had an angelic little voice she used to sing her favorite songs from a young age. So they really felt lucky!
Ebba told them that full moon births are said to be unfortunate as well, so they better watch Elke
Wolfgang didn’t believe in old wives tales and reassured Ringo their daughter would be fine
And she was! She made lots of friends and found her own ninken
Learned how to play the lute, harp, Kalimba, and Guzheng by age 12. She was truly a musical genius and was getting lots of fame for it
Then, it all got out of hand the spring of her first blood
All of a sudden Elke was extremely popular with members of a genders, as if they were under a spell
Wolfgang was getting tired of his door constantly being knocked and was even more worried at the looks his daughter was getting
He almost had a fight with a young woman over her not letting go of Elke’s hand while promising her the world if she would just be his wife
Turns out she was some duchess and really could, but that’s not the point!
Many letters professing love and poetry that could make a grown woman blush kept pouring in after every performance
Gifts that were to luxurious to expect, flowers, confections, etc.. you name it, Elke was receiving it
Elke decided to not leave the house with a family escort out of fear from this new found attention
It was at point they learned from some elders that Elke’s pheromones were very strong to say the least and appealing in a way that was extremely rare
She basically was emitting them at such a high level, that even non Inuzuka were being effected by it
Ebba and the elders began working on a perfume to help mask her scent and get her back to a level of normalcy with her interactions with other people
It was simi effective; enough to stop the overwhelming reaction
Elke was able to go back to being a performer. Traveling only a little bit with her ninken
choosing to live at home with Leonie and their parents
It took a few more years to figure some things out
But what was once an issue, she quickly learned how to utilize it in her favor. Less perfume, higher pay. More perfume and she can walk around like normal Inuzuka
It was fun to see how she affected others when it came to monetary gain, but with romance, she wanted to be loved for who she was not something as ridiculous as her pheromones
And she was able to find her true loves; two men and a man. The other pieces of her heart
It was tricky to navigate their dynamic as she didn’t have a polyam example (because her dad forbid her grandmother from talking about her romantic relationships) to go off of
one is strictly only attracted to her, another is her sweet cuddly asexual partner, and the other has social anxiety but has been her best friend and duet partner for years
She didn’t want to ruin a good thing being reckless
And what would her parents and siblings think?
But her grandmother told her as long as she communicates with them and make sure to respect their needs and boundaries, then things will work out if they’re meant to be
And she was right, like usual
She talked to her parents and their only concern was if Elke felt genuinely happy, loved ,and safe with her partners. If so, they were more than happy for her
Asahi said he was in no posture to judge others with his housemate situation
Kuri almost choked. She was shocked, but she knew all of them and they all were good people, so she can’t complain too much 😭
Frederick was just impressed. He can’t get one to stay, but she got three. Go baby, sis
Leonie felt very similar to Frederick, but added that she didn’t need to worry. They all support them
Mika was excited for her!
Sena was missing during this period (once again)
Arashi fully supports Elke! Especially because one of her girlfriends is an old sail mate of his
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gwennybriggs · 2 days
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Beyond The Classroom
Pt. 1
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I don’t expect this one to be very popular, this is a self indulgent piece 🫡
Summary: Once a Little Eagle, always a Little Eagle. Melissa keeps that promise to you year after year as she shows up for you in every possible way.
Warnings: Child abuse, neglect, abandonment, over all sad stuff (Mel makes it better!)
WC: 3.9k
Notes: Wrote this because it’s the week before Mother’s Day and I just want my mama (she’s an awful human being and will never be a part of my life again, 6 years no contact). Melissa is a comfort character for me, so I’m using this as a hug from her. I know there are plenty of other people with bad relationships with their moms (gotta love mommy issues), so I thought I’d share in case someone else would also like this hug.
I see you, I love you.
P.s. This story is about 85% based on events I experienced as a child/young adult. I’m thankful every day for the teachers who stepped in to be the parents I didn’t have.
You grew up in a not-so-wonderful household with abusive parents and older siblings who wouldn’t have noticed if you had decided to run away one day. Melissa Schemmenti knew. She was the one person you felt you could confide in as a child. She called CPS on your parents a handful of times during the year she taught you, in hopes of keeping you safe. Unfortunately, with a broken system and a mother who could sweet talk The Devil himself, your parents got off scot-free, leaving you to deal with the aftermath each time.
You would go into school the next day with a new bruise and tears in your eyes. Melissa would hold you close and let you cry all you could before pulling a chair up next to her own so you could be near your safe person all day. When it came time for dismissal, she would hug you extra tight and send a silent prayer to God that you’d walk through the doors again in the morning. On Fridays, she would sneak a Tupperware container of homemade food and a handful of snacks into your bag with a note that said ‘love you, kid’, knowing that your parents restricted your access to food and that she was probably the only person you heard those words from most days. The world sat heavy on your second grader shoulders and Melissa did everything she knew how to make it a little lighter.
Even as you moved on past second grade, Ms. Schemmenti was there. She would check in with each of your teachers at the beginning on the school year and pop in to say hello at lunch from time to time. If you had a particularly rough night at home you would stop by her room and ask her to hold you for a minute before other students arrived. She always obliged.
The day you moved on to middle school, Melissa cried right along with you. Both of you knew she wouldn’t be able to hug the hurt away or keep tabs on you as often. Of course, she made sure you knew how much she loved you, she gave you her personal phone number and said, “No matter how old you get or how far you go, you’ll always be my favorite little eagle. I’ll always be here for you if you need me and I mean it. If things go south at home, you call me and I’ll be there in a heartbeat. You’re gonna be okay.”
As the years passed, Melissa made sure she remained a constant- the only constant, really- in your life. Through your middle school years she became your tutor, meeting you at your school’s library every Thursday after dismissal to help you with your homework. Of course, those sessions were always a little more than just help with homework; she would bring you food and make sure you had clean clothes and basic necessities. One time you let it slip that your mother had ‘forgotten’ to buy you toothpaste and she dropped off a small bag of Colgate tubes on your front porch that night.
When you entered high school, Melissa made an effort to show up for every one of your art shows and track meets. Your parents never even made it to one, but Schemmenti was there. She always was. Your high school teachers even began to think Melissa was your mother; you never corrected them. And when you started working at the hoagie stand your sophomore year, Ms. Schemmenti would stop by once a week to have dinner with you.
The physical abuse dwindled a little as you got older and were able to fight back, but the verbal abuse got worse as a result. At one point during you senior year, your mother kicked you out after throwing a fit about you not inviting her to see you try on prom dresses. You called Melissa and she drove forty-five minutes at three in the morning to get you. Your mother knocked you to the ground and pulled fistfuls of hair, creating a tangled mess. When you were finally able to get her off of you, she screamed at you the entire time you packed your bag.
“FUCK YOU Y/N, YOU SELFISH BITCH! Couldn’t even include YOUR OWN MOTHER! It hurts, it’s almost like not getting invited to your WEDDING!” You dodged books and trinkets she threw at you as you tossed whatever sentimental things you could think of into trash bags to take with you. Photos of your grandparents, your favorite stuffed animal, and some of your artworks made it in before you heard Melissa honking in the driveway.
“You’ve never been my mom,” you seethed with tears streaming down your face as you dragged your bags down the stairs.
She blocked you from leaving at the bottom of the stairs and backhanded you, her ring catching the tender skin beneath your eye. You yelped in pain and stumbled forward, she grabbed you by the throat and squeezed. “You walk out that door and NEVER come back, you hear me? You are worthless, a waste of space and air.” She dug her nails into your skin before she released you and practically pushed you through the front door.
“You’ll never have to deal with me again. You want me out? I’m out.”
Your father followed behind with his fists balled up, “If you ever come back, it’ll be the last time you see daylight!”
Melissa waited for you by the car with her baseball bat, ready to swing if need be. Once your bags were in the backseat, Melissa tossed her baseball bat into the trunk and drove off. Your mother chased the car all the way down the driveway calling you every derogatory thing she could come up with.
The drive to Melissa’s house was silent save for the occasional quiet aob from both parties. Once you arrived, Melissa took your bags inside and walked you up the stairs to her bathroom to nurse your wounds. You winced as she swabbed your cheek with isopropyl alcohol and she frowned. “I’m so sorry, hon. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner to stop her.”
“Don’t be, you still showed up when I needed you. It coulda been a lot worse. Thank you,” you cried as you leaned your head against her stomach just like when you were a second grader.
She held you until your tears dried then left the room to grab a change of clothes for you. Moments later, she handed you a pair of her sweatpants and an oversized Eagles t-shirt. “You can take the bed tonight, I’ll sleep on the couch. My spare room doesn’t have a bed right now, but we can fix that tomorrow after I call out of work. You need anything before I head down, kid?”
You looked at the ground, embarrassed to even ask, “Would you maybe… would it be okay if…. never mind, it’s stupid.” You shook your head and climbed under the comforter, it smelled like Melissa.
She somehow knew exactly what you were asking without hearing the words. She climbed into the bed and lifted an arm for you to scoot in. “Of course, sweet girl, it’s not stupid at all. I’ll keep you safe, promise. Try to get some sleep, I’ll be right here.” You settled into her embrace and took a deep breath.
You whispered, “I love you, thank you.”
“I love you too, baby girl. Sleep tight,” she whispered back before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Sleep was the last thing on her mind as she held you, watching as the rise of your chest slowed. She stayed awake the whole night, guarding your peace.
Late the following morning, you woke up to an empty bed and the sound of people in the house. You popped your head out into the hallway to see Melissa directing three men where to go with the new bed set. She heard the door creak and looked over at you with an apologetic smile, “Hey, hon, sorry to wake you! They’ll be outta here shortly. I called your school and work to let them know you wouldn’t be in for a few days so you don’t have to worry about it. I washed the clothes that were in your backpack, they’re sitting by my bathroom. There’s also a clean towel for you and a new toothbrush on the counter. You’re welcome to use my hairbrush and whatever else you need.” You smiled back at her and closed the door.
You picked an outfit from the pile of folded clothes and shut the bathroom door to shower. Your body was sore from the adrenaline and you groaned in pain as you shed your pajamas. Standing naked in the mirror, you looked over the marks your mother left on you. The nail marks on your neck were already scabbed over, but the gash under your eye was bruised and definitely going to leave a scar. You traced your fingers along each mark, tears forming in your eyes. The shower was hot enough to leave your skin red, you wanted to burn away any remnants of what happened to you. You sobbed loudly as you tried to detangle the mess of hair your mother created, it hurt and you were so worried that you’s just have to cut it all off.
There was a soft knock at the door. “Ya decent?” You opened the door for her and she gently took the brush from your hands. She directed you to sit backwards on the toilet while she worked at the knots on your head. You nearly fell asleep sitting there as she hummed and massaged conditioner into your hair, working diligently to make sure you kept your beautiful hair.
“You sleep okay,” She asked as she rinsed your hair in the sink.
“That was the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time. I haven’t slept in a bed in months, it was so soft.” You said it like it was nothing.
She paused. “Whatduya mean you haven’t slept in a bed in months?”
You sighed deeply. “They took my bed away because they said I was a whore and didn’t deserve one. I told them that I’m a virgin and they took the door off of my room, callin’ me a liar.” You hadn’t told her that detail when you saw her at one of your track meets a few months before. You figured you’d shared enough heartbreaking details with the woman, she didn’t need to be even more worried about you.
Hot tears silently flowed down her cheeks. She was angry. Not at you for not telling her, but at the low-lifes you called parents. “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” she spat. She was ready to call in one of her favors from The Tire Iron. “Well I’ll tell ya one thing, kiddo, you ain’t goin’ back there ever again. You’ll never be without ‘long as I’m around, ya got it? And you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want, no strings attached.”
You choked back your own tears. “Thanks, Ms. Schemmenti. I truly appreciate you.” She wrapped your hair in a towel and you turned to hug her. “What would I do without you?”
“Starve, apparently,” she teased when your stomach growled loudly. She grabbed your chin to look at you, “And no more ‘Ms. Schemmenti’. You can call me Melissa, Mel, Aunt Mel, whatever you want, just not that. You’re family, kid. Now c’mon, I’ll make you something to eat before we head out for a shopping trip.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Her brow furrowed, “You tryin’ to make me feel old? None of that ma’am stuff either.” You giggled and followed her down to the kitchen.
She made French toast and sausage and you devoured the meal in just a few bites. Satisfied with you having eaten, she grabbed her purse, dragged you to the car and pulled out of the driveway. Along the way, she asked you to make a list of anything you might need or want. You took your phone out and looked at it for the first time that day. The screen was full of awful messages from both of your parents and extended family members. You chose to clear the screen and turn off notifications without reading them all and opened your notes app to jot down a few things you knew you missed when packing bags.
Melissa pulled into the mall parking lot and looked over at you, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, what happened?”
You rubbed your eyes and tried to fake a smile, “Nothin’, I’m just tired.” She knew you well enough to know when you were lying, but she wasn’t going to push you on the subject.
“Mkay, kid. If you decide you wanna talk about it, you know I’ll always listen. And you know I’d kill for ya.” She gently nudged you with her elbow and the two of you made your way into the mall. You showed her your list and she took charge, guiding you around to every clearance rack and bargain bin in the vicinity. You paid for the majority of your new finds, but she insisted on helping with funds here and there. Many stores later Melissa stopped for a bathroom break and you found yourself in front of Auntie Anne’s. Remembering how much she loved soft pretzels- she’d get one every field trip- you decided to buy two, one for each of you. It was a very small token of gratitude, but you knew she’d be excited.
When she exited the bathroom, she scanned the food court for you and found you sitting at a table with all the bags. She sat down across from you and you pushed the soft pretzel her way with a little cup of honey mustard, “Thank you for today. Normally I hate shopping, but you made it fun.”
She gave you an upside down smile and took a bite. “I’m glad I could be a good distraction for ya, hon. And thank you for this!” She clinked her pretzel with yours to ‘cheers’ the day. As you finished your pretzels in silence while people watching, a dress shop on the upper level caught your eye. Despite trying on prom dresses, you never actually bought one.
Melissa‘s eyes followed your gaze and when she spotted the shop she knew what she was going to do. “Hey, I know you said you normally hate shopping, but since we’ve been having so much fun today… why don’t we keep the fun going and go pick out your prom dress? It’s what, two weeks out?”
You shook your head, “Nah, I can’t afford it now that I’ve spent half my savings on shit I needed today. Besides, I got to do prom last year, I’m alright missing out on this one.” You played with the straw in your drink absentmindedly and took the last bite of your pretzel.
Melissa thought back to the conversations she had with you about how excited you were for your senior prom. You buzzed about it every time the two of you spoke for months, it broke her heart to see you resign to not going. “My treat, hon. And I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, I know how bad you wanna go. C’mon,” she said as she prodded you up and dragged you to the dress shop.
You spent about an hour browsing and trying on different dresses, even somehow convinced Melissa to try one on with you for shits and giggles. You pretended not to see her sneak a picture in the mirror of the two of you in the matching dresses, a sweet moment she wanted to remember forever. Finally, you found the right one. The a-line strapless dress stopped mid calf, it was wine red and fit like a dream. When you emerged from the dressing room to show her, she gasped.
“Oh, beautiful girl! My favorite little eagle isn’t so little anymore.” She stuck her bottom lip out in an upside down smile as she reached to tuck your hair away from your eyes. She took a small step back and asked you to spin so she could see it all. The smile on your face told her you made your choice. With misty eyes she pulled you into a tight hug, limiting your ability to breathe.
“I can’t… breathe… help,” you choked out. The redhead lessened her squeeze and apologized but didn’t let go, she needed that moment to collect herself. You stood there embracing each other for a couple of minutes before Melissa finally released you. Once you changed back into your clothes, she took the dress to the register and paid.
You walked out together and stuffed all the bags in the trunk, laying the dress flat in the backseat. “Thank you. For everything, Aunt Mel. For a few hours, it didn’t feel like my world was crashing down around me. I’m lucky to have you.”
She kissed her fingers and then pressed them to your cheek before she started driving. “I’m pretty lucky to have you too, kid. And I’ll always be here to pick up the pieces when you need me.”
The drive back to Melissa’s house was quiet, aside from the classic rock station playing the weekly hits countdown. You checked your silenced notifications to see even more messages and missed calls from your family, Melissa glanced over and saw them too. “If you want, we can change your number this week, that way they can’t bother you anymore,” Melissa offered.
“They still pay for my phone, I can’t. They’d cancel my service the moment they found out.” You shoved your phone back into your pocket.
“Then I’ll just move you over to my cell plan. They don’t deserve the power they have over you, hon.” You opened your mouth to protest but stopped when she pointed at you. “Let me help, please. Because I can and I want to.”
“Thanks, Aunt Mel.”
A few minutes later you arrived back at the townhouse and dragged all of your new belongings up to your new room, hanging up the dress immediately. Melissa said she’d help you make the bed and get settled once she got dinner in the oven. While she was working in the kitchen, you curled up on the couch and flipped the TV on, settling on ‘Rick Steves’ Europe’ reruns. Rick’s comforting voice began to lull you to sleeping and you didn’t have the energy to fight it.
Melissa walked in to tell you she was ready and found you fast asleep. Her heart melted at the sight. She draped the couch blanket over you and lightly tucked it in so as to not disturb your slumber. ‘How could anyone hurt something so precious,’ she thought to herself. After she tucked you in, she made her way upstairs to gather your new sheets and comforter to wash them before starting on the rest of the room.
She grabbed the basket of your clothes from her own room and began to hang them up in your closet. Once she finished the task, she cleaned out the dresser and filled it with your socks, pants, and undergarments. One by one, she removed her family photos from the walls and replaced them with the handful of framed photos you brought with you. She recognized your grandparents’ photo from the one time she had met them at the beginning of your second grade year, right before they passed. They were your best friends, you were safe when they were around. Melissa decided to place the picture on your nightstand so that they’d be watching over you every night. Lastly, she organized your toiletries in the guest bathroom and set out a fresh set of towels and one of her robes.
Satisfied with her progress, she took a short break to check on you, change over the laundry, and take out the lasagna. You were still asleep and she didn’t want to disturb you so she ate alone in the dining room and texted her mother.
-Ma: Hot date?
-Mel: Nah. You remember me telling you about Y/N?
-Ma: You’ve talked about her for the last ten years, yeah I remember. Is the poor kid okay? Her parents treating her like shit again?
-Mel: They kicked her to the curb, said she wasn’t welcome back. She’s staying with me for as long as she needs to.
-Ma: Of course I’ll set an extra place for her, Amore. She need anything? You need anything?
-Mel: She needs all the love she can get, just make her feel like family. I’ve got everything else handled. Thanks, Ma.
-Ma: We can do that. Talk soon.
She finished her meal and gathered the clean bedding from the laundry room, making her way back upstairs to make your bed. Once the sheets were on, she fluffed the comforter and pillows before opening your backpack to retrieve your favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Bunz. Even at eighteen, you slept with him tucked in your arms every night. She hugged the well-loved bunny to her heart and thought back to the day she gave him to you. Right before holiday break your third grade year, she pulled you aside at dismissal and tucked him into your backpack. She told you to give him a hug whenever you needed to feel loved and she wasn’t around to give you a hug herself. Little did she know, that was the only gift you received that year.
Melissa placed him in the middle of the pillows, like the cherry on top, and went back downstairs to wake you for dinner. She sat on the arm of the couch and gently began to run her fingers through your hair. “You need to eat somethin’, sweetheart,” she whispered as your eyes fluttered open. You stretched and sat up, leaning your head against her leg.
“What time is it?”
“About 7:30. You’ve been through a lot the last 24 hours, figured you could use the rest. I got your room all set up for ya. I’ll heat up your plate and we can watch a movie before bed. How’s that sound?”
You rolled off the couch and rubbed your eyes. “Sounds good,” you yawned. You followed the redhead into the kitchen and sat at the counter. She warmed your plate in the microwave and placed it in front of you with a glass of water. You demolished your meal like you hadn’t eaten in days, complimenting her cooking after every other bite. You washed your dishes and then made your way back to the living room, joined by Melissa. She turned on one of your favorite comedy movies and watched the light return to your eyes a little more with each scene.
Sitting there, laughing at the stupid jokes on the screen with the closest thing you’ve ever had to a real mom, with a full stomach and a warm bed waiting for you upstairs, you realized something.
For the first time in your eighteen years of life, you were finally home.
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Yandere Tsumiki Mikan | Infectious AU
Requested by @theoneandonlyyuriaoo: Can you do any goodbye despair character x reader?
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The world had turned on its head. An infectious parasite that devoured the brain and rotted the body. It drove the modern world to ruin; making populated cities become deserted wastelands filled by the infected. 
Of course like all crises in the world fortresses are made. Fortresses that everyone flocks to hoping to guarantee a life of structure safety and healthcare. Relying on the most talented and resourceful leaders to bring the structure the old world used to have. Including the promise of care by the world’s greatest nurse. 
“Nurse Tsumiki, we need to rewrap the bandages on patient #237!”
“C-c-coming! Oof–oh no the syringes!”
Tsumiki Mikan is the best nurse in the world or at least in the closest fortress you can get in. Said to be able to cure those in the final stages of the infectious parasite, she’s a clumsy but gifted nurse. When the fortresses do begin their ‘peaceful’ negotiations her residence is a heavy point of contention. Of course, anyone would want the woman who managed to make a cure working in their medical wing. 
She’s such a celebrity, that your fellow patients excitedly speak of her when she comes to check on them. Unfortunately, you’ve been sleeping every time she’s supposedly stopped by. Though you weren’t worried. A simple broken arm shouldn’t need the greatest medical mind’s attention, you had to be convinced by your party to even admit yourself into the medical ward. 
So it truly is a surprise when you wake to the nurse in the middle of the night holding an IV bag. It was easy to recognize her by the outline made by the small nightlight from the hall. What made you question if it was her, was the inhuman twitching and giggling she was doing. 
“O-Oh~! Y-y-you’re awake!”
You’ll protest the need for an IV bag—it’s just a broken arm. But she’ll determinedly protest it, the way she does when the emergency is dire. Abandoning her usual stutter she’ll go on to rant and rave about how this may be a doorway to something worse. 
“You have to listen to me, (Y/n)! You need to stay here in bed! With me!+”
Despite you being an average survivor, you weren’t an idiot. Even with a minor background in anatomy and the way diseases are spread; you know most of what she’s saying isn’t true. Or at least not in your case. So you’ll explain and try to rationalize with her even as she settles herself on your bed.
“Look Mikan I appreciate your concern but it’s really not that bad!”
“Noo! Noo! You can’t!”
“Please stop crying. You’ll wake up the other patients.”
She’ll keep whining and protesting her mute point; all the while scooching up on your bed. As if trying to get as close as possible.+ It isn’t until you say the most off-limits thing in the history of your conversation with her. 
“You know what, I’m just going to check out and I’ll go back if I find anything–”
“NO!”
She immediately hops up on your lap, trapping your free hand and legs underneath hers. That was the least of your concerns as she held your face in her hands.  Rubbing a thumb obsessively on your cheeks, she practically rubs her nose against your own. 
“No no no no no you can’t leave (Y/n)! You need to stay with me forever forever forever forever!”
You couldn’t really stop her as she practically devoured your mouth in some wild form of a kiss. There was biting, sucking, and something viscous shoved down your throat. As your vision blurred and your cognitive control slipped from you; you could hear the door open and the silhouette of a more familiar nurse who refused to look at you. 
“Miss Tsumiki…your orders?”
The nurse’s giggling turned into a full-blown cackle clutching your head into her chest. The nurse said nothing as she proceeded to play with your cheeks while she continued to maniacally laugh.
“It’s just as I feared~! (Y/n)’s condition has worsened we need to quarantine them in my private ward!”
“Yes, Miss Tsumiki.”
Better her than the infection right?
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in my head I'm just screaming at my sister STOP GETTING ON MY CASE ABOUT THE THEATRE BOY all the time
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katierosefun · 6 months
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oh there's something particularly painful about my mister in that dong hoon tells ji an that as long as no one knows, it's no big deal, and there's something particularly painful about how ji an tells dong hoon that sometimes, i want [my secret] to play out on big screens for everyone to see, and there's something particularly painful about how the second dong hoon meets the loan shark tormenting ji an, he starts screaming and yelling about how she's just a kid, how could you do that to a kid, and there's something particularly painful about how dong hoon doesn't even let ji an know he did that, but ji an knows. she knows because she was listening in the entire time and she just starts crying because someone actually knows this ugly, sad part of her and still took her side, and something particularly painful about how my mister started with as long as no one knows, it's no big deal but really concludes with there is so much risk in having someone know who you are but there's also so much comfort and peace to be found in that, too and maybe you shouldn't isolate yourself and maybe you should reach for that kind of comfort in being known and loved anyways
#caroline talks#my mister#if this is incoherent. it should be#rewatched the first 2.5 episodes of my mister last night#felt like crying my eyes out the entire time tbh!!#every time i watch this show there's just something about it that hurts me more and more and there's something that makes the messages#in this show feel more and more relevant#idk. thinking a lot about when ji an talks about how sometimes she wishes. sometimes she wishes#that everyone knew what she'd done and what had been done to her.#something about how ji an can't ever bring herself to connect truly with another person because of how much she hates#the feeling of people realizing what her past looks like#and not wanting to withstand the pity and also horror. like. okay.#something about ji an sobbing by the bridge when she listens to dong hoon pummeling that loan shark guy#and how i used to always cry at that scene but now i tear up just thinking about it#because you know! there's that shock (that firstly: someone knows your miserable secret. and secondly: they're still on your side)#and then absolute heartache because you don't know what to do with that information. you didn't expect it.#you're sobbing at a bridge because someone knows who you are and someone knows the scars of your past and still gets angry and sad for you.#and you still feel like you don't deserve it because you know deep down you are not a very good person (or so you tell yourself).#and. oughough. lee ji an holds such a place in my miserable little heart
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thatfaerieprincess · 3 months
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if one more well meaning relative asks me if i have done any drawing recently i will start screaming and flip a table 🤪🙃
#it's not their fault!! it's not!!! I'm known for being The One Who Draws#they usually get updates from my parents sending out pictures of things I drew for assignments for school for years!! they haven't gotten#anything new in a long time!!#it's not their fault to ask hey have u been making anything new??#but also if one more person asks I'll literally go fucking nuts I will start screaming crying throwing up#I will begin tearing myself limb from limb#especially if it's my grandma who I see literally every week and she in fact knows I have not been drawing#it's worse when she asks bc then it's also with that quiet pity of someone who assumes I probably haven't but hopes that I have#ANYWAY SORRY I JUST HAD TO PUT THIS SOMEWHERE#I'm doing my best and I'm not in a great space and I'm trying real hard to try and figure out who the fuck I am when my entire life isn't#Completeing Assignments#bc since middle school I have been nothing much outside of a Complete Assignments Machine#and I've found ways to bring my humor and my creativity and things I enjoy INTO Completeing Assignments#but I've somehow then learned I can ONLY do these things if they're for Completeing Assignments#and now I have graduated college and I'm trying to get a fucking job and move somewhere new and my life isn't Completeing Assignments anymor#and I haven't relearned how to have creative fun ideas outside of the assignments framework#but I want to get there again#but I need everyone to stop asking me if I have made any art recently#bc I think for a while the answer is going to be no and if it's not no it's gonna be yes but I'll have made something so fucking weird#you're going to wish I had said no and not explained that I was building a dead rat puppet#im a rambling sam
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luminarai · 8 months
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dykeredhood · 20 days
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Love how my choosing to see a therapist coincides with the 10 year anniversary commemorative Stucky mass hysteria event, that’s fun
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xekstrin · 1 month
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One of the most memorable interactions was Saturday. Into our booth strolls a small family, tempted by free samples of freshly brewed tea. We chatter and give them the spiel, that the tea is character merch and we’re a cozy health-based app called Forage Friends.
The young girl zeroes in on our pride pins.
“They have my pin!” She says excitedly. “They have my flag!”
The dad blinks. He is surprised, but also calm and positive when he sees it’s the lesbian flag. “Oh. That’s… different from what you told me.”
“That was months ago, dad.” And she rolls her eyes. Definitely a teenager.
I turn to him and say, “Yeah, dad.” And we share a little laugh about it.
He says, “No, it’s great. That’s amazing, honey. It was just news to me.”
“Well, I guess I just decided to stop lying to myself. About liking guys. Like right now.”
A little lesbian just came out to her dad and he was super cool about it.
I’m standing there in my tie-dye mask and my cheery blue apron pouring tea and making small talk and I’m trying really hard not to cry or compare it to my experience, the fire & brimstone, the disgust, the conditional acceptance as long as I never bring it up.
So as this beautiful bonding is going on, the girl’s even younger brother turns his gaze around. He’s in a snorlax hoodie and bored and wants to go look at the swords across the hall. But on the other side of our booth….
“WHY DO PEOPLE DRAW THAT?” He asks loudly, and we all turn to our neighboring booth.
Our neighbors were extremely lovely people. Every time we had a break we would talk, and we became good friends over the weekend. They kept apologizing that their booth was next to ours and we kept repeating that it was totally fine. Their booth was great. I even bought their merchandise.
The thing that was so contentious, that they felt the need to apologize for, was that they were selling explicit titty hentai stickers of popular characters. They were censored with little yellow R18 labels but the content was very clear.
So back to the family: I freeze and immediately go somewhere else to let dad handle this question. With adult customers I’ve been loud and positive about our neighbors. (“Man, how has it been boothing next to them?” It’s been great! They bring a lot of foot traffic and they’re kind and wonderful professional neighbors. If anything it’s a fun juxtaposition. We believe in artistic freedom. I bought a sticker too!)
But this is a kid, it’s not my place to explain anything…. But I was extremely curious about what this chill dad would say.
“Well,” dad says with a long measured silence between each word. “Sometimes people are horny.”
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lemonlover1110 · 4 months
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𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑
Sukuna
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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
Summary: Your husband was an heir, and you have to fulfill the order.
Warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spitting, slight use of tummy mouth, double penetration, tit sucking (and biting), breeding kink, degrading, sukuna is... sukuna but fluffier to his wife
*he's been on my mind lately and I'm going insane
10k Event Masterlist
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“I want an heir.” Sukuna brings up one fateful night as you walk over to lay down beside him. It’s not a request, it’s an order that you must fulfill, just like everything that involves Sukuna. Strangely enough, Sukuna has been the one that’s been delaying having a child since you’ve been nearly begging him to have a baby with him for the past year. It seems he’s finally given in to the idea though.
“What was that, Suku?” You ask, stopping in your tracks because he’s caught you off guard. He stands up from where he lays, towering over you. You look up at him, waiting for him to repeat himself but you should know better than anyone that your husband doesn’t like to repeat himself. But this time he does,
“It’s about time you give me an heir.” Which makes a smile spread across your face because it’s what you’ve been wanting. Sukuna has been the one that has been refusing to have a child so you don’t understand why he words it like that– But either way, you’re happy and ready to fulfill his every need. Before you can even agree to his order, his bottom hands are undoing your robe to get you undressed while his mouth goes down to your lips.
Sukuna has grown accustomed to kissing you, and handling your body more gently since you’ve asked him to. Compared to the beginning, he treats you like a petal. You like to think it’s his way of expressing his love for you since he’s not very vocal about it, and you know he doesn’t particularly enjoy kissing. His tongue meets yours while his hands try to undo the robe without tearing the fabric into pieces since he knows it’s one of your favorites.
He bites down on your lip causing a cry to leave your throat while he gives up on properly taking off your robe. You hear as the fabric rips, and maybe another time you would be upset about it but you’re too consumed by him to care. He’ll just get you another one. His two lower hands roam down your bare body. One hand gropes your breasts, his rough fingers pinching your nipples. He gets to your cunt, lightly slapping it before he runs two fingers through your cunt.
He pulls away from the kiss, letting your soft moans into the air when he begins to play with your clit. Sex for him has always been a selfish act but ever since his first night with you, he’s found pleasure in pleasing you. The sound of your moans in the air while he toys with you is the sweetest melody. He found it dumb at first, but now there are nights where he’s simply buried between your thighs with the purpose of making you come as much as he can. 
Sukuna picks you up and puts you down on the bed. Taking a moment to appreciate how beautiful his wife looks when she’s under him. Fuck, you’re so fucking small compared to him. It’s nothing new, really, all the people that Sukuna has been with are miniscule compared to him. But he just loves the way that you look under him since he’s never seen a more beautiful human being. He’d never tell that to you though.
Sukune begins to tease your entrance, threatening to push a finger into your cunt but he doesn’t. He runs his fingers through your folds, while his thumb plays with your clit. He lowers his head, his tongue circling your nipple before his mouth wraps around it and he begins to suck.
“Can you put a finger in, Suku? Please…” You ask him, your needy cunt in need of his fingers inside of you. He bites down on your nipple, causing a cry to leave your lips before he unlatches and lifts his head up. 
“I hate beggars.” Sukuna reminds you, and you’re about to apologize but he shoves three fingers into your mouth, gagging you with them before you can even get a word out. He really knows you better than anyone. “My woman doesn’t apologize to anyone either. Not even her own husband.”
Sukuna finally pushes two fingers inside your pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers are just so fucking big, and they reach every right spot. Sukuna feels you moan around his fingers before he takes them out of your mouth. He curves the fingers inside your cunt so they hit against your sweet spot. One hand goes to your breasts, and he begins to play with your nipples. 
“It feels so good, Suku.” You moan, your back arching as pleasure consumes you. Sukuna’s multiple hands are… Everything.
He takes his fingers out of your cunt, moving the wet digits down to your asshole. He spits down on your cunt and spreads his saliva down. He presses his fingers against your asshole as he lowers his head. He kisses from your lower abdomen to your pussy, where his tongue then runs through your folds and then up to your clit. His tongue begins to flick your clit while he pushes two fingers into your asshole, making you moan loudly.
“Fuck– Fuck!” You yell, as Sukuna also pushes two fingers into your cunt again. It’s like music to Sukuna’s ears. It’s too much for you, two fingers in your ass, two in your pussy, and his tongue on your clit. Both holes squeeze around his fingers as his tongue lays flat on your clit.
“Sukuna! Shit, it’s so fucking good.” You bite down your lip, trying to not bring too much attention to yourself. Unluckily for you, as soon as Sukuna knows that you’re making yourself quiet, he stops. He lifts his head up and takes his fingers out of your pussy and asshole, leaving your holes to clench around nothing.
“I want my woman to be loud. Don’t be a fucking bitch, do you hear me?” Sukuna kneels, towering over you again and you nod in response. You use your forearm to hold yourself up and look at him. He undoes his robe, and you lick your lips as you watch your husband get completely naked. Your thighs come together as your eyes fall on his two thick cocks, feeling excitement consume you. Sukuna smirks, watching you prompt yourself up to get his cocks in your mouth. He stops you, his hand going on your chin. “You’re a cute little bitch… You’ll be okay. You can handle them both, right?”
“Yes, lord.” You nod in response, and Sukuna treats you as if you were a doll– More gently than he would treat an actual doll but he moves you as if you were one. He forces you to hold your legs to your chest, and the large tongue on his mouth licks your pussy, and moves down to your asshole. He’ll be sweet with you, especially since you brought back the name that you hadn’t used since your marriage.
The tongue teases the entrance of your asshole but Sukuna stops before anything else happens. He lays his cocks down on your lower abdomen, and you deeply inhale. You wonder how it’ll fit inside of you, but it always fits so you shouldn’t worry.
Sukuna doesn’t bother teasing the cock that goes in your pussy, immediately pushing it in which causes a loud moan to leave your lips. He doesn’t waste time in putting the second cock in your ass, and once you’re stuffed with him, he begins to move. He’s gentler with his thrusts this time, which you certainly appreciate since he didn’t give you time to adjust. 
He’s grown impatient with the idea of you giving him an heir, he can’t waste anymore time. And fuck, he just needs to feel you wrapped around his cocks. You don’t seem to be struggling either way, quite the opposite, you moan in pleasure with his every movement.
“I’m going to fill your womb up with my seed, and you’re going to give me what I deserve.” Sukuna says through gritted teeth to not let out another sound that hints at how good you’re making him feel. Sukuna will never say anything that could hint at him being happy with someone else– The most you’ve ever gotten from him was a marriage… order. Sukuna didn’t propose marriage, he simply told you that you two would be getting married. But you know that the face that he’s making and the way he talks, he’s feeling good. 
“I’ll give you what you want, lord.” You respond as his cocks hits every right spot, filling you with so much pleasure. His thrusts pick up speed, and your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head. Sukuna’s hand begins to play with your clit, and you begin to squeeze around him even more, causing him to hiss. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you big and round with his child. Sukuna can’t wait for his seed to bless your womb and all the changes that it’ll bring to your body. He can’t wait to steal some of the milk that’s meant for his child.
“Going to fill you up with my child.” Sukuna groans as you squeeze around his cocks. It’s too much for you, especially after he’s worked you up. You’re loudly moaning his name, just like he wants you to. He wants the servants to hear how he pleases his woman. It’s all too much for you since he’s filling up both of your holes and toying with your clit.
You shut your eyes, and see white as you squirt all over him, causing a chuckle to leave his throat. He lightly slaps your clit as you make a mess all over him. Sukuna can’t help but praise you for it, which is definitely something rare, “That’s my good wife.”
Sukuna bites his tongue, loving how tight and warm your holes feel. But you won’t get a noise out of him. His hand goes to your throat, however, it just rests there while his thumb presses against your lips, “The only woman worthy of carrying my child.”
Sukuna gets rougher with his thrusts as his release approaches. The thought of you carrying his baby makes him go insane. He’ll make sure it happens soon, he’ll fuck you every night until there’s confirmation that you’re expecting his successor. 
He mutters your name before he fills you up with his cum. He doesn’t dare to pull out until both of your holes are completely filled with his seed. When Sukuna pulls out, he lays down beside you. He brings you into his embrace while you take deep breaths.
Sukuna kisses the top of your head, one of his hands running up and down your back. Maybe Sukuna hasn’t exactly been fond of kissing before, but it’s definitely his favorite thing to do with you now.
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