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#caregivers need to be cared for too
thepeacefulgarden · 9 months
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lilquokka04 · 10 months
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Could i request little!skz ans how reader would care for them, im feeling extra soft
-littlebugsburrow
🥺I love the idea of being able to take care of skz. I keep switching between wanting to take care of them and wanting to be taken care of😅. I've only recently gotten into little space but I will do my best. I hope you've been doing well and taking good care of yourself ♡
-note-This fic is about age regression and skz being littles. If you don't like it don't read it.
❣Taking Care of Little Skz❣
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-Chan------
-Making sure this exhausted baby takes his naps!
-You would be more strict on his bed time than anything else
-Preparing meals for him
-Channie always seems to forget about meals so you make sure to have something prepared for him even when you're not with him
-Loves being fed in your lap but is shy about it >.<
-Leeknow------
-You're always finding new shows or activities to keep min occupied
-He gets bored easily so you have to keep him entertained
-Give this baby his cats 🥺
-If he can't be with his cats give him stuffies, toys, anything that reminds him of his kitties♡
-Give him lots of cuddles and head pats
-Will get upset if he doesn't have his daily snuggles
-Changbin-----
-Shy babie only wants to be around you
-Is happy with anything you do cuz he loves you so much
-Play games with him! Hide and seek is his favorite
-Has to be in your lap anytime hes not playing
-Play with his hair and call him pretty
-Hyunjin------
-You have to play with him or he pouts
-Paint with him, it would make the baby so happy
-Always compliment his work
-Tie his hair for him when hes struggling with it
-Put pretty clips in his hair
-Wants you to tell him how cute and tiny he looks
-Han------
-He has to be attached to you at all times
-Hold him, have a hand on his head, any kind of physical contact makes him happy :,)
-Do his nails for him!
-Feed the baby and tell him how cute he looks with his cheeks full
-Let him curl up in your lap and watch movies
-Will love you forever if he can play with your thighs
-Give him flowers and he'll put one in his hair♡
-Felix-----
-Let him cuddle you all day
-Play games with him in your lap
-Let him help you cook
-Try new hairstyles on him
-Wash his hair with your shampoo so he can smell like you </3
-Seungmin------
-Make his favorite meal for him
-Give him all the head scratches
-Let him nuzzle against your chest
-Give him compliments and tell him how much you love him
-Prepare a nice bubble bath before bed
-Jeongin-----
-Pick his outfit out for him
-Order him McDonalds and let him steal your fries :3
-Let him take a nap on you cuz it makes him feel smol
-Take him out and take pretty pictures of him
-Let him have ice cream before dinner
-Play his favorite songs for him
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earthbaby-angelboy · 6 months
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i am FLOWING with scenarios and whatnot tonight so here’s another one!
if you grind your teeth when anxious, i think el would try to make you aware of it, hoping that you’d understand he didn’t want you to do it (in fear of you hurting your teeth or creating permanent damage!) if you didn’t become aware, he’d leave the room for a minute and come back with a paci for you!
he’d just wordlessly hand it to you with a small smile as to not make you self conscious. he does this every time you grind your teeth. he always has a pacifier on hand for whenever you need it, and it kinda becomes a comfort item.
(ok this next bit may or may not be self-indulgent because i’ve been grinding my teeth so bad in my sleep that i’ve actually started chipping teeth and now have to do this so bare with me)
if you grind your teeth in your sleep, even when you aren’t little, he’ll get a paci & a clip, attach one to your shirt and encourage you to use it. at first you’re iffy about it cause you don’t want to become dependent on it, but after a few nights of using it, you realize how much they help! :D
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polaroidcats · 7 months
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spent this morning crying to a random stranger on the phone because I called the vaccination hotline to book a vaccination appointment for my grandma and the person on the phone just told me they stopped doing home visits 2 months ago and do not have any services for non-mobile people. and i just started crying because ??? in what world ??? would you just decide to stop a VITAL service like that without ANY alternatives?!?
Luckily when I calmed down i found a list of all the doctors in our area who vaccinate ppl when you go to their offices and after I called about 15 of them I found one who said he could maybe do a home visit to vaccinate my grandma but still, just hearing the guy on the phone say "There are no services for non-mobile people" really reminds you how society forgets about disabled people.
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invinciblerodent · 5 days
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getting a little bit obsessed with my "cottagecore throuple" here, because the more I think about it, the more disgustingly perfect and idyllic the whole thing is to me.
like... post-game, I like to imagine Shadowheart absolutely thriving. She's a city girl with a deep love for animals, and spotty- to nil memories, most of which are of the worst things to have ever happened in a dank torture-basement: of course a sweet, picturesque forest cottage (so far I like to think that Petyr would call it "The Hovel", even though it's by all means a cozy, nice hunter's lodge) would have her downright giddy, and she deserves every ounce of that happiness ever.
As I imagine it, when not enthusiastically learning all there is to learn about the quasi-self-sustaining life (that she had dropped herself into by shacking up with a literal forest ranger), she spends as much time outside as possible: walks barefoot in the tall grass, stops to smell every flower (and even plants quite a few, just by the vegetables), and lays in the soft underbrush for hours at a time- enjoying the sunlight caressing her face, enjoying a nice novel (and/or a cuddle with Scratch, the cub, or her boyfriend once he sits down for a moment), or just gazing up at the moon and stars in silent worship. She makes friends with every animal that crosses her path, too: SO many potions of animal speaking are consumed, it's absurd. (She's best friends with the chickens. Petyr has to start farming acorn truffles in the basement for her, and that even proves actually very lucrative- in town, that shit sells for like 10-20 gold a pop.)
She'd of course bring home everything that'll let her. Little wildflower bouquets and stuff at first, but also every critter: from juvenile racoons just weaned from their mothers (they look almost like kittens! how cute!), to elderly foxes that just want to curl up in front of the fire and warm their bones somewhere safe for a moment. She's having the time of her goddamn life, she's learning a shitton of life skills she was never taught (finally learning things not meant to make her better at hurting people!), and generally enjoying a life that, while still plagued by remnants of the past (night terrors, perpetrator trauma, loss, grief, pains both suffered and inflicted, all that great stuff), has her feeling actually content with her lot in it.
And with all this, Petyr is... very business as usual, or at least he's trying to pretend that he is. Having someone in what was his space for like 20 years is strange initially, but if there's one thing he's used to, it's adapting. Making things work. (Plus, he's like, happy, or whatever. In love. You know, that sort of rot.)
Then again, he's also used to only having to feed himself with the very little he has, not another (especially another who is inexperienced at this type of thing, and a second another who just... drops by sometimes, always unannounced and unexpected, but never unwelcome), which deep down does have him a bit (a lot) more antsy about not just being the self-appointed guardian of her happiness, but also just... their general survival.
He's keenly aware that winters in the wild are never especially easy, not when you're so far removed from the safety of a community- especially not the way he's used to being alone, without even magic to keep you warm and safe. Usually, he spends most of the year primarily occupied by preparing for winter, and even like that, there have been lean years: years when he got snowed in for tendays, when he did something stupid and all the careful prep went down the shitter, years he had to go hungry and learn to make do with next to nothing.
So he compensates for- (and distracts himself from-) that anxiety by making extra sure that the pantry is stocked to bursting with all the goods there can be, and they often head out into the woods to hunt and forage together- although he's not a great (or even a good) teacher, Shadowheart (usually Shadow, often Heart, lately Jen or Jenny in affection) does make what he used to do out of sheer need, into something also done for fun.
Hunting and foraging are fun now, and soon, the cabinets are overflowing with jars and jars of dry mushrooms, so much homemade deer jerky, jams and jellies and pickles galore... there's mead fermenting, and homemade soap curing before it can be used, firewood stacked to the height of a person... herb bundles, garlic braids, grain corn, and drying peppers are strung up on the rafters like fragrant fairy lights.
Meanwhile, I imagine that Halsin comes and goes as he pleases- not entirely unlike a beloved stray cat. He just shows up one evening as if he had left not tendays, but only a few hours ago, kicks the duff or mud or snow off his boots, and leans his staff into its habitual nook by the door. He sets whatever it is that he brought this time in its appropriate place (be it otherwise unobtainable goods from town, or just a little gift, a treat to enjoy together), and he sinks into the worn-out armchair by the fireplace that was declared his the first time he stayed.
One of the others almost always then strolls by to settle wordlessly on his lap (if not both of them- that poor chair can barely take the combined weight), and just relax as his big, warm fingers slowly work through the knots and ties keeping their hair out of their faces, and, voice rumbling deep in his chest, he tells them all that has happened in Reithwin the past while.
The many smells of dinner and the comforting scent of pipe tobacco mingle with the fragrant herbs and the crackling fire then, and creates something that can only be described as the scent of home.
.............. and then all three just fuck absolute NASTY every day, in every configuration, and on every surface available for the next, oh, month or so.
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poolsidescientist · 9 months
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I think one of my biggest fantasies in life is being able to live somewhere/with someone that I can come and go as I please. Have my own car, not have to rely on other people or explain why I can’t be home of take care of people/the dog/etc. at all time. People think I’m greedy for wanting a well-paying job but having to take care of people you’re dependant on is really shitty and money would 100% solve this problem.
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cutiecorner · 2 years
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Hello everyone I am so seepy but also utterly haunted by blorbos thoughts
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pyreshe · 1 year
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one thing i did not anticipate about me leaving my job is the amount of people who came out to tell me how much they enjoyed working with me and will miss me. the lead of a different department even went as far as telling me that she would have hired me to her team on the spot had they had an opening & that she will tell me if they ever do have an opening so i can apply (if i want to). like the fuck?
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sheyshen · 2 years
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my mom’s birthday and the holidays are coming up and I really wanna get her some stuff so i’m thinking of opening up commissions hoping i can scrounge together like $100 so i can get her some gifts since we’re still waiting on getting me paid to care for her T-T
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emomanswhore · 1 year
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I feel like... if you call ghost daddy in bed he'll go crazy
ghost with a daddy kink ? oh yeah… he definitely eats it up, when his prettiest princess calls him daddy in bed. <33
—❤︎︎ — DADDY’S HOME . . . ❞
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SIMON GHOST RILEY X FEM!READER
✵. !! WC : 3.7k
✵. !! TAGS & CW : explicit content! (18+ mdni) - service/softdom!ghost (he’s a lil bit mean), cunnilingus, daddy kink, size kink/difference, praise/petname usage, subtle spit kink, squirting, thigh slapping, overstimulation, dumbification, pussydrunk!ghost (hes in LOVE with your pussy), orgasm denial, fingering, the mask stays ON.
✵. !! A/N : hihi babies ! just a lil treat for y’all and thank you for 700+ follows and all the love you’ve given for simon says ♡!! hope you enjoy this mini fic, lmk how we feeling about it !! <33 ps… i folded. im sat. i actually wanna call this man daddy so bad. 🧎‍♀️
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In your mind, there was one word— one forsaken word that you refused to utter. A word that only the most sexually deprived would use.
A person with their morals in check, should never attempt to sexualize something that is meant as an innocent title and name. Usually reserved for an actual father, or someone fulfilling the role of a male caregiver.
Right.
A person with their morals in check.
Right. You totally weren’t projecting… and deeply shaming your own innermost yearning, to desperately call your boyfriend ‘daddy’ while he fucked you.
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It definitely wasn’t a thing you could say you were proud to admit outloud. Nope, you would quite frankly rather be caught dead than have your questionable cravings exposed to the world.
But every single day, you swore to god that your boyfriend tried to purposely provoke you into using the absolutely forbidden word.
Simon always took care of you. Whether that’d be making sure you got to work safely, cooking you meals on days that you were too tired to be bothered, or even texting you throughout the day to make sure you were resting properly.
You know. You know that’s probably the absolute bare minimum, and what a boyfriend is supposed to do for you in a serious relationship. But you just couldn’t help that ache and flutter you got in your heart, that made you so weak for him.
He worked so hard every single day, busy and moving nonstop on less than four hours of full rest. Even when he had his most stressful and agonizingly long days at work, he still tried to reach out to you. It could be a single worded text message or a phone call that only lasted for five minutes.
No matter what or without question, Simon will do his absolute best to tend to you. It was truly unconditional love, devotion, and his unspoken rule to give you whatever you most desired.
And you feel sick— sick in the head for letting your insatiable lust take over your sense of morality. Putting his mostly wholesome catering ways, in the same category as what you needed to relieve that scorching, sore pounding in your core.
That was alright though, you could live off your little fantasies and scenarios you created in your mind. Always making yourself dizzy and soft headed, imagining a world where he would make love to you and refer to himself as ‘daddy’.
It would suit him so well. Your hulk of a man, who had to put a slight bend in his knees whenever he came through the doors of your home. His mellow, husky voice always gently rasping to you— almost never, ever raising it higher than an octave at you. The way he could spoil you absolutely rotten, only ever calling you by his own little terms of endearment.
Always putting you first when he fucked you. Even in times when it got rough or you two were experimenting with things on the more intense side, you always came first. Literally and physically, since Simon couldn't properly get off himself, without knowing you were completely satisfied.
Your aftercare would consist of cuddling, he’d coo the sweetest of praises as he handled your sore limbs.
“My sweet girl, look at how pretty she is. Did such a good job today, angel. I know baby, I'll take good care of you now. Such a pretty girl, aren't you?”
It’s perfectly fine.
You could keep all those things about him to yourself. Just let your brain work its magic, to create fantasies and fill the deep void of your scorching carnality. You always subconsciously needed that one little thing to make yourself come even harder. But you were a good, grateful girl for him and always let Simon know how well he treated your body.
It’s perfectly fine. You don’t need a daddy kink in your life, to make yourself feel better. You were so much better than that, and you’d never let Simon get the idea that you were some ill, perverted deviant.
It was all fine.
Until today, when he finally pulls the most forbidden word out your mouth— and satiates the bubbling, hot desire that has a heavy chokehold on your heart and soul.
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You don’t know how things escalated so fast.
One minute, you get his text that he’s on his way home and he’ll see you soon.
Out of pure joy and excitement to finally see him again after three weeks, you start to get yourself ready for the evening by taking an extra long shower. Making sure you’ve lathered and exfoliated every inch of your body in vanilla scented body polish, with a hint of brown sugar and cocoa butter. It was always Simon’s favorite scent on you, and he’d seemed more clingy than usual whenever your sweet aroma hit his nose.
The next hour, you throw on a simple, yet cheeky little lingerie set.
A delicate floral embroidered baby blue bra, with its matching mini stringed thong panty. You couldn’t help but fall in love with it at first sight. The design is a lovely work of art, the milky color enhancing the glow of your soft skin— yet it’s so scandalous on your body.
You did purposely get a smaller size, but on top of that it was made of see through mesh material. Not a single doubt in your mind that if he looked close enough, Simon could make out the shape of your nipples through the bra. And between your legs? The outline of your folds were perfectly clear and transparent against the light color of your panties.
After spending another minute admiring yourself in the bathroom mirror and taking a few selfies of your enticing form, you slip on a fluffy cream colored robe and head to the kitchen. You wanted to get something in your stomach before Simon came home, so you decided to lightly snack on a slice of pomegranate fruit.
You don’t even make it to the fridge before you hear the sharp clicking of keys turning a door knob, and feel the cold gust of wind that comes with the front door being swung open.
A gasp and squeal flies out your mouth as you bounce up and down on your toes, the actual sight of your boyfriend trudging in through the doorway makes your heart swell and pound in your chest.
��Baby!” You practically skip on your feet towards him, unable to hide your excitement of his abrupt appearance, as he starts taking quick strides to meet you halfway.
You think with how fast Simon approaches towards you, and him not even bothering to take off his shoes at the front door, he must’ve been just as excited to see you.
When you two finally meet each other in the middle of the hallway, you give him a big, dazzling smile as you go to lean in to hug him.
Before you can get your arms around him, he places a large hand on the small of your back and pulls you in close to his chest. You gape up at him, your smile slowly melting down to a look of pure confusion. Knees already feeling wobbly at his close proximity, and the way he has to tilt his head down to look you in the eyes.
Your breath hitches in your throat, when he slowly drags his open palm up along the cotton material of your robe. Even through its thickness, you can feel the heat radiating off his hand that follows along the curve of your back. Sending tingles down your spine, when his hand eventually makes its way up to the soft nape of your neck.
You both stare at each other. Your eyes become hazy and unfocused, while his dark ones scan over your perfect little form. You hear him pull in a deep breath of air through his nose. Holding it in his chest for five seconds before letting it back out, while he drags his eyes up back onto yours.
“Been thinkin’ about you all day long, y’know that?” He mutters these words, yet somehow they’re loud enough to ring and echo in your eardrums. You pull your lips in your mouth, feeling your core thump in tune with the pitter patter of your heartbeat.
You practically whimper out loud, as he continues onto his sentence,
“ ‘S about time I came home. Think it’s only right to show my princess how much I really missed her, wouldn’t you agree, pretty baby ?”
That was the only warning you were given… for what your boyfriend truly had planned for you, once he finally got his hands on you. Everything after that moment, truly did escalate as if time were being fasted forward.
You knew he missed you. Without him vocally telling you how much he thought of you, his actions spoke much louder than his words.
He was so sloppy.
From the way he practically rips your robe off your trembling body, to pushing you down onto your shared mattress and diving face first into the warm heat of your clothed pussy.
He was truly like a dog in heat. Not even bothering to take his mask off completely from his head, and only lifts it enough to show you his parting lips as he comes face to face with the growing patch of wetness sticking in your panties.
“Look at my pretty lil’ lady,” he coos softly, hooking his thumb into the side of your soiled panties and pulling them to the side to expose your glistening cunt to his heavy eyes. “Missed me, haven’t you? Can’t imagine how tight ‘n upset you are, since I haven’t been givin’ you proper treatment lately.”
It always blew your mind when Simon literally talked to your pussy.
Speaking in soft murmurs and giving it the same delicate pet names that he gave you, the owner of it. As dumb as it probably sounded, you sometimes couldn’t help but feel that ugly swirl of jealousy when he practically treated it like it was an entire living and breathing person.
You don’t have time to mull over your childish feelings, letting out a squeak when he grabs both of your thighs and presses them back until your knees squish against your chest.
“Know you’re mad at me, little one” Another squeak sounds out your throat, as you feel him turn his head to the side of your thigh and he lets his teeth sink into the doughy flesh of your skin. He hums, sucking on the flesh before letting it go and pressing a soft kiss to the flaming bruise he leaves behind. “Gonna show you how much I’ve missed splittin’ you open on my tongue.”
He follows through with his words, putting his full attention back onto your pussy. Using his index and middle fingers to pry open the thick lips of your cunt, groaning when he sees your hole twitching and spasming over nothing. The scent of your nectar coating your thighs and leaking out your pussy, makes him feel even more high and drunk off your arousal.
You’re so messy already. And like the gentleman that he was, Simon always took the initiative to help clean up messes that you made.
Still keeping his fingers spread enough to keep your lips parted, he lolls his thick tongue out before swiping it on your slit. You mewl and flinch at the feeling of his warm tongue, but he grips the side of your thighs to keep you still. Simon continues licking up and down your cunt. Maintaining the same pattern of stroking his strong tongue, as if he were savoring a frozen delicacy that helplessly dripped down the side of its waffle cone.
Once he feels like he’s collected enough of your cum on his tongue, he pulls his tongue back into his mouth to let the taste of you sit heavy on his taste-buds.
Your toes curl and you let out a soft gasp, as you watch him hollow his cheeks, before he lets the sinful mixture of your cum and his spit fall right back into your twitching hole. Chuckling to himself as he watches the way his greedy girl swallows up the little treat he gave her.
“Taste so fuckin’ good, princess” This time he does actually talk to you, dragging his eyes up from your drenched pussy and onto your blearing, glossy ones.
“Always so good for me. Could eat you up every single day ‘n never get tired of it. Can’t believe I went so long without this, fuck.”
Simon starts to probe his tongue along your core, tracing the shape of it until he finally pushes inside you. Already feeling the tight caverns of your pussy ease up, and welcome the thickness of his tongue rubbing up against your gushing walls.
“S-Sim— oohhh,” You throw your head back, unable to finish your squealing when he pulls his tongue completely out of you, and decides to inflict his torture upon your little clit. First he flicks the tip of his tongue over it, then he lets his mouth completely envelop around your pearl. Pumping it a few times between his lips, before pulling off to run his tongue over the expanse of your pussy.
You weren’t going to last.
You were far too sensitive after not having him around to please you for three entire weeks. All you could do was sob and let it happen, letting out a cry before you feel a fat watery gush of cum shoot out your hole. Simon pays it absolutely no mind, only widening his mouth to catch every little drop you gifted him.
“That’s it. Such a sweetheart, you’re already spoiling me ‘n givin’ me a lil’ treat. ,” He feels the way your body starts to relax, already going into its state of after pleasure— but he isn't done. Far from done, actually. Hasn’t even been half of an hour yet, and your legs start shaking like a leaf in the wind.
“Ah, Ah,” Simon tuts, slapping his palm hard on your soaked inner thigh, making you jolt and buck your hips up. “C’mon baby, couldn’t have thought I was done with you. ‘S only been a few minutes, ‘n you’re tapping out already? Thought my baby missed me, hm?”
It hasn’t only been a few minutes. Even in your dazed and dizzy mind, you knew that he’d been feasting on your pussy for well over twenty minutes. You shake your head, bottom lip wobbling as you let out a soft sob.
“I di-did miss you, baby” You sniffle wetly, feeling him trace his thick fingers along your soaking heat. Shaking your head in protest as he slips in his middle and ring fingers, humming while you babble to him. “But I can’t ta— aaahh, t-take it anymore. ‘S too much, baby. No more.”
“Too much?” He starts to flex his fingers deep inside of you, curling them in slow motions to stimulate your special gummy spot, that has you sobbing hysterically.
“You haven’t had your fill yet, sweet girl. I can feel it. Y’see this?” Simon tries to retract his fingers from your cunt, but your walls instantly clamp down on him. “You’re not lettin’ me out. My little lady down here knows exactly what she wants. So c’mon princess, lay still ‘n let me spoil this pretty pussy rotten.”
Having absolutely zero regard for your whines and sobs, he continues his previous abuse on your poor little pussy.
Seconds, minutes, hours, decades— You can't even tell how long he stays between your thighs.
Simon uses both strong hands to keep your legs steady and trap you from squirming or running away. You can take it. You will take it. He knows how much you need this, humming at every broken little sob and wanton moan that comes screeching out your throat.
Your vision starts to blur while you stare up at the spinning ceiling. Saliva pooling in your mouth and making a puddle next to your temples, as you let it run down the side of your lips.
You’re going crazy.
So high off the overstimulation of his face buried deep in your leaking pussy, that you swear…. you swear, you can feel your brain getting mushy. So mushy that if you shook your head hard enough, it could probably come spilling out through your ears.
He’s speaking into your pussy, saying words and mumbling something out loud. But you can’t hear it. All you can hear is your heartbeat pulsing in your throat, and feel the way he shakes his face side to side, while his tongue is plugged in your cunt.
Feel the way his hands grip your thighs so tight, that the blunt tip of his nails dig deep into your skin. You can already imagine the bruising and crescent little puncture marks it’ll leave on your legs.
It’s all so sloppy. Your pleas and cries for mercy, getting lost in the little squeals of ‘yes!’ and ‘simon!’ you can’t help but let out. And he eats it up, kissing your heated pelvis while burying three fingers inside of you.
“There’s my good girl, y’sound so pretty” He goes back to focusing his attention on your sore clit, giving it an open mouthed kiss before he continues speaking to you.
“Wanna hear my girl tell me who’s making her feel good. Hm? Lemme hear it. Say who it is, that can make you sing your little heart out.”
You make some unintelligible garbles, and Simon chuckles at your quivering and hiccuping. He squeezes your thighs encouragingly and smacks the side of them twice.
“Big words, baby. You’re a big girl, so tell me… who’s making you feel good right now?”
“It’s…” You swallow thickly and sniffle, slowly losing your train of thought as he suctions his lips around your swollen pearl. “It’s— ohhh, ‘mmm my goddd. It’s you…”
You start to gather some of your discombobulated brain cells to form a complete sentence. Simon’s name sits on your tongue, and you’re ready to tell him, it’s him. Simon. It’s Simon.
Until he pulls his head back with your clit between his lips— taking it with him, and letting it go with a loud pop!
It’s not Simon.
“Oooohhh g-god. It’s you! ‘Mmmy goodddd… daddy, it’s you… it’s all you, daddy.”
He pauses.
Whipping his head up to see if he really just heard what he believes you just cried out. Tapping the side of your thigh, he tries to get your attention so you can focus on his voice.
“What was that, honey? Didn’t hear you, come back to me and say it again.”
You whimper and hiccup, tears run down the side of your face and you continue whining at him.
“ ‘S you, daddy. Need you so badly, pleasseee baby. ‘M-m so close. I need it.”
Unbelievable.
He lets go of your trembling thighs. Letting the weight of his body help keep them pressed against your chest, as he crawls from up below your stomach and hovers over your face. Simon’s face is covered in your arousal. His lips glisten, and a good portion of the mask is damp and sticks to his skin.
“One more time, honey. Y’said it’s ‘daddy’ ? Hm? It’s your daddy, that’s taking good care of this pretty pussy?”
Simon’s fingers trail back down between your legs, softly shushing you as you keen at the feeling of his digits sliding back inside of you. He stares down at you, practically seeing the little stars spinning in your eyes. You weren’t in your best state of mind right now, but he’ll be damned if you tried denying that word escaping out with your cries.
“Can’t come ‘till you let me know,” You give him big, sad eyes but he shakes his head at you. “Wanna come, right? Tell. Me. Say it again, _____.”
At the use of your real, full name you quickly snap back into reality. It was like a switch, your bubbly headspace falling apart and bursting open once he rasped your name.
You did it. You really did call him daddy. It was your most taboo, and forbidden word—
But fuck it.
Today, your daddy was finally home. And you needed him to take care of you, just like he always did.
“Daddy,” you mewl out, feeling another hot sensation shooting through your spine. It was coming. You were so close. “Daddy I n-need you. ‘S you Simon, so please, pleaasee let me cum.”
His nostrils flare before he’s smacking his lips down on yours. Licking inside of your mouth, and inhaling the little moans you let out from tasting yourself on his tongue.
“Not yet, pretty little baby. Daddy hasn’t had all his fun yet.” Simon pulls away from your lips for a moment, laughing softly at the way you try to chase after his mouth for more. He uses one hand to swiftly fumble with the buckle of his belt, making quick work of pulling down his cargo pants and boxers. Laughing again when he pulls his drenched fingers out your greedy little hole, that puts up a fight to keep him deep inside your cunt.
“Must’a been treating my lil’ lady real good,” You can feel the heat of his hard, thick cock pressing onto your pelvis. Already licking your lips and grabbing onto his flexing bicep for support. “Gotta keep showing my special girls how much their daddy loves ‘em.”
He uses a free hand to guide his length to your throbbing pussy, unable to help himself from slapping the head a few times against you. His cock makes a squishy plop plop when he makes contact with your sticky folds, and teases you with a rub on your raw, swollen clit.
“Want you to remember this, once I’m done with you.”
Simon feels your nails dig into the hard meat of his bicep, bracing yourself when he finally lets the head of his cock greet your warm, welcoming insides. Already feeling the way your pussy grips around him, and makes no plans of ever letting go.
“Want you to remember what’ll happen every single time, that daddy comes home to his pretty, little princess.”
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✪-tagging-✪ / : @touyyes @winterbimbwo @sirenh4ll @sailewhoremoon @noriken @kokobunn @fushisslut @dilftaroooo @aasouthteranoswife @daeneeryss @simon-rileys-princess @g4bby @sussywowzaee @lazuli-leenabride @moonshot-eclipse @mietkoz @honeybee54321 @lich1 @terrythetortoise @fuckinriley @actuallyanita @wedonttalkabouthenry @motionlessinrhi @hauntingtherosebush @spookyclowwn
(couldn’t tag y’all </3 ily tho) @benandjerrysisqueer @bleedingmagic-02 @tescomealdeals-blog @getoruii @alyssam14 @officialjotchuagirlfanclub
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cupcakeslushie · 3 months
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u got me tearing up thinkin about EW donnie falling for tim and vice versa bc like..... he deserves it so much. to just be happy. to have someone love him and that he loves back outside of his family
if not a spoiler for future comic, how did their romance (good or bad timeline) start? how did it culminate? how did the others react?
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I give Donnie a lot of angst to deal with, but I think the way their relationship starts is just by Tim being such a good and caring friend. He’s a caregiver by nature and Donnie really needs that. Timothy has done a ton of work on himself and working through his own traumas, so he’s very much aware of the small ways he can be there when Donnie needs help and nudge him in a healthier direction. And if Donnie is being stubborn, then Tim can at least be nearby.
They’re that “couple” that doesn’t really have too much in common, but something just mysteriously clicks, and there’s a genuine interest from both sides to learn things from the other.
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babyleostuff · 1 month
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fluff 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!seungcheol x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 613
. . . just cheol being cheol (aka him freaking out because of your fever)
natalia’s note: very much self indulgent, i came home with a fever all of a sudden like a week ago, and ever since im in desperate need of choi seungcheol
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“i’m not dying, you know?” 
“i know,” cheol huffed, and threw what had to be the tenth blanket over you. 
“then why are you acting like i’m about to pass away?” you laughed, seeing your boyfriend’s focused expression. according to his logic, if the blankets weren’t all sprawled out properly, you’d freeze to death, and his furrowed dark eyebrows alongside the crease between them showed how serious he was about it. 
you could hear him mutter something under his breath. he was always like that when you were sick - too worried, and too overprotective. that’s why sometimes you didn’t even bother telling him you were ill, especially with his busy schedules - you didn’t want to burden him even more (he’d probably strangle you if he heard you calling yourself a burden). 
to be honest, you didn’t even have to be sick - the second cheol would notice you acting differently than usual he’d be all over you asking what’s wrong. but while usually you were very grateful for his caring nature, now was not the time. “i’m sorry for being worried about my girlfriend coming home with a fever,” he said, looking offended. 
“cheol, baby. it’s just a fever,” you quickly grabbed the pills from his hand to get his attention back on you. “i’m sure it’s not even a proper fever, i’m just feeling a bit under the weather, that’s all. there is no need for you to be worried.” 
your “illness” was nothing that a long session of cuddles with him and kkuma couldn’t solve, but it seemed like your boyfriend didn’t share your optimism. “fine, do whatever you want,” he grumbled, his pout on full display, and left the room, leaving you too stunned to speak. 
with a loud sigh, you fell back against the stack of pillows cheol fluffed up before forcing you to lay down. of course you didn’t mean to make him think you didn't want his help, you loved how big of a caregiver he was (especially when it came to you), it’s just that unlike him - for you, being sick wasn't the end of the world, and you didn't need him to babysit you. 
not wanting to argue, you stood up from the bed with a soft groan, throwing off all the blankets cheol covered you with. you knew it wouldn't be hard to appease him, he wasn't really angry, more disappointed that you were rejecting his help.
you entered the kitchen and immediately saw him cutting up some food, probably preparing dinner. “cheollie,” you said quietly, hoping he would look at you. unfortunately, he stubbornly continued to cut the vegetables. "baby, please, i didn't mean to upset you." you walked around the kitchen island and hugged him from the side, burying your head in his neck.
you saw his pout out of the corner of your eye, so your suspicions that he wasn't actually angry were correct. “i was just worried about you," he finally said after a while, and put the knife down. "there's nothing fun about seeing your girlfriend come home all burning up with fever."
“i know love, i know,” you mumbled, and kissed his bicep, running your hand gently over his tummy. “i really appreciate everything you do, but i’d rather cuddle with you and kkuma. we could watch something, and you’d get to hold me, hm?” you smiled, seeing the corners of his mouth turning up a little. if there was one thing cheol could never decline, it’d be a cuddle session with his girls. 
“you’ll take the medicine, though,” he said sternly, kissing your hot forehead. “now get your ass back to bed, i’ll be right back” he added.
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings
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aemvnd · 3 days
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𝓇.cameron. ┆ angel face.
◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ my mama is back home. !!! ᠀𓏲 even tho i'm gonna be her main caregiver now & i'm moving in less than two weeks, i'll hopefully be publishing more stuff for u angels. ♡ྀི
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"y'like this, angel?" rafe coos softly, sounding sickeningly sweet against your sweet smelling neck, inhaling that addicting vanilla-scented perfumè you're always wearing, making his cock throb against his left thigh, hanging bare and heavy, dripping with small beads of pre-cum.
you nod eagerly, squealing as rafe begins pumping his long, calloused finger faster and harder inside of your weepy little cunt, adding another and stuffing it inside swiftly, making you mewl and release a breathy, high-pitched and feminine squeak at the sudden stretch.
"awh, is it too much for you, baby?" rafe teases mockingly, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all across your neck, sucking the occasional claiming mark, his kiss-swollen lips trailing down to suck on the tops of your bare breasts.
"i know, baby… i know," rafe murmurs against your soft skin, before taking a puffy, perky little nipple into his mouth, suckling for a few moments, both of your nipples already swollen from rafe toying with them earlier, pinching and plucking them, making you moan so prettily for him.
"just need dad's cock, huh?" he croons, his voice darkening and sounding more gruff by the second, needing to be inside of you as soon as possible—no, he needed you now, right fucking now.
"it's okay, babydoll—daddy's gonna give his pretty girl what she wants, yeah?" he continues to ramble mostly to himself, quickly releasing the one nipple he was sucking on by swiftly moving down for a second, flattening his tongue completely and licking a stripe up your soaking pussy, needing another taste.
"fuck, this pussy... it's all mine," he growls, already lining himself up as he moves to settle more comfortably between your plush, spread thighs, so silkily smooth and smelling of your strawberry shortcake body lotion.
without waiting a moment longer, he gives his hardened cock a small squeeze, pumping it twice quickly, growing more impatient by the second, before gripping himself by the base and lining himself up with your dribbling hole, all wet and sloppy from rafe eating your sweet little cunny just minutes ago.
"you ready f'me, baby?" he asks, already rubbing his leaking tip up and down your glossy slit, before pushing inside of you without waiting for a verbal response, already seeing the look you're giving him with your big, doe-like eyes, all misty and begging to be fucked.
without missing a beat, or allowing you a moment to adjust, rafe continues pushing his cock all the way inside until he bottoms out, before beginning a frantic, nearly animalistic, but steady pace, watching the way tears are already streaming down your flushed cheeks, little moans escaping you.
"that's my girl, taking daddy's dick like such a good girl—fuck, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me," rafe grunts, practically pounding you into his bed, not caring if his father or sisters hear—rafe needs you, needs to fuck you, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was just as desperate for you as you're for him.
"yea, yes... daddy!" you mewl sweetly, breath hitching, your tits bouncing with every brutal thrust from rafe, but you don't mind, you loved when rafe used you like his own personal little fucktoy.
"that's it, baby," rafe puffs out, nearly breathless, panting and growing sweatier by the minute, feeling your perfect cunt squeezing him so tightly, he honestly thought he would blow his load any moment now.
"fuckfuckfuck—shit, baby, such a good little slut f'me," rafe groans lowly, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, sloppily kissing your already marked up neck, nipping and sucking and licking any inch of skin that he could reach.
"that's it... juuust like that," rafe croons into your ear, feeling your pussy quivering, knowing you're about to come for him any second now, hearing your small wails and whimpers, before he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, tasting your cotton candy lipgloss, his tongue practically down your throat as he kisses you messily, passionately, possessively—like he's marking his territory over you.
and then, then, you feel it, your back arching and you're coming with a muffled, girlish cry that's swallowed by rafe's mouth, making him blow his load not a second later as he reaches down with one big hand and starts to give your little buzzing clit tiny, light slaps, making you squeak and try to squirm away from the overstimulation, from him.
"no, no," rafe says sternly, this time slapping your clit harshly and making you cry out once again, releasing a breathless chuckle after, his lips still connected to yours, your mixed salivas making both of your lips and chins shiny, but neither of you care—rafe likes seeing you like this, all fucked out, so weepy and submissive for him whenever he gives you a good, long, and hard fucking.
perhaps, just maybe, that's why he doesn't bat an eye at your small wail of protest when he shoots his load deeply inside of you, hearing your whiny complaints—but rafe doesn't give a fuck, you're his, and you'll always be his.
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pufflehuffing · 4 months
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Courting rules in the 1890's and Hogwarts students
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Courting: be involved with (someone) romantically, with the intention of marrying.
I love reading time accurate fanfiction and decided to delve into the courting rules of Victorian England, more specifically the late 1800's. I twisted some rules to add my personal interpretation of how these habits would work for Hogwarts students. This post is specifically about courting, not casual dating. Please keep in mind that the 1890's weren't as progressive as the 2020's while reading and that this discusses middle- and working-class families. This post will probably be subject to additions when I learn even more about Victorian England.
English isn't my native language so I hope the grammar isn't too bad? Let me know!
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Meeting someone new.
Typically, teenagers were allowed by their families to begin courting between the ages of 16 to 18, though their education always came first. Girls were taught at home by their mothers to prepare meals and take care of the household. Boys were taught to work with their fathers at home or at the local workshops so they knew how to handle enterprise. During the summer months, Hogsmeade had more soon-to-be sixth-years working the shops than the actual owners.
In September, sixth-years were taught sexual education by the school nurse. She was aided by the potions professor, who taught the girls how to brew a simple contraceptive. Boys were taught their valuable role in society, and how important it was that they did not court multiple girls at a time. It was the boy who had to make a move, so to speak. Victorian women had a more helpless image than they do today, seen as delicate flowers who needed men to take charge.
A girl who was kind, patient, benevolent, peaceful, charitable, and caregiving, was worth pursuing. Girls were to pursue boys who possessed the ability to speak with ease, respect, and courtesy to all, a neat appearance, excellent manners and respect for all women.
The two sexes didn't mingle much. Students would often stay within their own circle, only befriending peers in their own house and classes. The only times that Hogwarts students really had time to meet someone new was during their walks in the hallways, study time in the library or on their trips to Hogsmeade. Therefore, students would often join extracurricular clubs to widen their circle like Quidditch, the school choir, the Astronomy club, Crossed Wands, etc.
Students taking Defense Against The Dark Arts were to follow rules when dueling with the other sex. Boys weren't permitted to use Depulso or other blasting charms at their female peers unless specifically asked for by the professor as it was ungentlemanly to launch a female into a stack of crates without reason.
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Dating and falling in love.
If he perceived that she was interested, and he was confident that his position in life and circumstances were sufficient to allow him to proceed, a boy took the next step — sending an owl to the girl's father (or his next-in-line if he had died or was absent from the family) to ask permission to pay a visit to their home. In this letter, he stated his position and prospects, and mentioned his family, as well as his blood status and house. Boys would often pen down what electives they were taking and which profession they would like to pursue after graduation. The letter's envelope would be sealed with a wax stamp of the boy's house or family crest.
Families played a crucial role in the courting process. Parents often had a say in their children's relationships, and the approval of both families was considered important.
If the father of the girl had approved of the young boy, courtship could commence. Most courtship was conducted exclusively in public places and always in the company of a chaperone. Note that I'm discussing romantic and not platonic relationships. Girls and boys were allowed to spend time together alone platonically, under the clear pretence they weren't courting.
The lovers weren't officially allowed to give their suitor any gifts without her parents being present during the exchange. Though it wasn't uncommon for boarding school students to hide lockets under their pillows and dried flowers in their journals, hoping the house-elves wouldn't find them. Flowers, fruit and non-explosive candy from Honeydukes were allowed to be given without supervision, as their perishable nature implied no greater enduring memorials.
With the many rules society put on courting teenagers, love letters were one way to escape the prim and proper manner at which they conversed. Love letters were considered sacred and sincere testaments to a couple’s love; such intimate correspondence was regarded with respect and a deep sense of privacy. A family member would never open a daughter’s or sister’s love letter. Upon receiving an owl she were to retire to her room to read its contents in private.
Often times girls would scent their letters with their perfume and moving portraits were popular attachments. Photography wasn't popularized in working-class families until the next century, yet witches quickly gossiped about conjuration spells that allowed them to take small polaroids of themselves. Boys would attach the dried flowers I mentioned earlier. The more experienced wizard could include a conjured paper butterfly or bird.
Staying at Hogwarts, students weren't allowed in the other gender's dormitories, so they resorted to explicit portraits and sneaky snogs in the Astronomy Tower or the Muggle Studies classroom. Gifting each other their scarf was a discreet way of "claiming" each other, though it was considered improper by the professors.
After having learned the disillusionment and silencing charms, teenagers were very eager to master Evanesco.
The more cunning wizards and witches of Hogwarts would sneak into the Restricted Section of the school's library to look for Muggle books that contained erotica in order to spice up their love letters and late-night encounters.
If allowed by her family, male students would accompany their date to the Yule Ball. They were instructed to never lose sight of her there and to not drink any alcohol in her presence. The couple was also required to arrive in separate carriages and left the event separately before midnight. The boy would walk his lover to her carriage or to her chaperone and bow his head to say goodnight.
As graduation approached, boys who were in the process of courting were sat down by their father figure who explained the importance of marriage. The boy was expected to start thinking of proposing to his lover.
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Getting engaged.
Though courtships were short and often only lasted less than a year, engagements were commonly much longer, and usually lasted several years. This was especially the case for working-class couples, as they had to work to save money for the marriage.
Though boys were allowed to ask their girlfriends for their eternal love via an owl, it was much more proper to do so in person. It wasn't permitted to propose marriage with a ring, though they were often obligated by the families to officiate the engagement with one.
After the couple decided to get married, the boy was supposed to visit his future wife's house often. Visits were often made in the evening and when he came over, he needed to pay attention to everyone in the family, not just his fiancée. The goal was to slowly win over the family's affection, especially the girl's mother.
Engagement rings were a means of showing a boy's wealth. If he had worked at the workshops or had inherited some Galleons from his family, he could gift his lover a more intricately designed one. Rings ranged from a simple band to a collection of carved initials and differing gems.
Rings weren't often gifted to boys from their girlfriend, though if her fortune permitted it, she could have a custom wand handle made for him.
Gift giving became more frequent amongst the lovers, as did penning love letters, since the couple would be spending more time apart to work and earn money. Gifts were allowed to be given in private now too. Lockets were often (officially now) exchanged with a small enchanted cloud inside. The light represented the giver's mood: red meant anger, blue meant sadness, pink meant in love, green meant happy. A bewitched bouquet or a self-writing quill could also be thoughtful presents.
Once the couple got engaged, they were officially allowed to get closer to each other physically. No couple had the nerve to tell their parents they had probably already kissed and perhaps spent the night in their lover's dormitory already, and that they snuck out just before the prefects and house elves would catch them. Nevertheless, they were now officially allowed to go for walks by themselves, hold hands in public, and take rides without anyone accompanying them. They could also share a hug, a sweet kiss, or hold hands publicly now.
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llamagoddessofficial · 2 months
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How would your Sanses act when they are getting sick and MC takes care of them?
AWW we've done so many scenarios about the boys looking after a sick Mc. It's long past due their turn to be sick!
Sans: When he's sick, he just absolutely koalas onto you. He loses all his inhibitions and sticks to you like glue. It doesn't matter what he's doing, how aware he is, how weak or sick he feels, he will follow you to the ends of the earth to cuddle you. Cooking? He's hugging you from behind the whole time you cook. Doing laundry? He's sitting beside you, snoozing with his head on your shoulder. At first, you might try to encourage him to lay down and go to sleep before you try to sneak off and do something, but as soon as you get there he appears like a half-asleep ghost to hold onto you. There's no escape. Even Papyrus can't save you.
If anything, it's a nice opportunity to wind down. You have to - you have no choice. It's also very cute when Sans is woozy and snuggly.
Red: For very obvious reasons, Red does not like being sick. He's a macho man!! He doesn't need babying!! Red frequently hides/downplays how unwell he feels, and the more sick he gets the more snappish and foul-tempered he becomes. He won't admit he's ill until he's absolutely wrecked. Even when he's figuratively on death's door, he's extremely combative and aggressive, he refuses pretty much all help. Being sick means being weak, and he cannot be weak.
... Unless it's you. When you're around, he's a big delirious flirty idiot, and he'll do whatever you say. If his brother so much as gently suggests he should have some water, Red bristles and starts a fight. But when you tell him to lay the fuck down and take his medicine like a big boy... well, who is he to argue with a pretty face?
"hey. humans can't get monster sicknesses, right? maybe you should give me a kiss. right here. might make me heal faster."
"Be quiet and drink your soup."
"yes ma'am."
Skull: It makes a lot of sense for Skull to get sick around you, if you think about it. His mind and body have been in a constant state of stress for such a long time, never allowing him to slip, not even for a moment; being with you finally allows him to relax enough to get ill.
Despite his generally eeby nature, Skull isn't very good at 'turning off'. He always wants to be helping, doing something for you, making something or fixing something, providing. He feels like a bad husband if he's not helping. He'll regularly need steering back to bed - he shuffles into the room, half-aware and with his blanket still draped around his shoulders, wanting to help with whatever you're doing despite absolutely needing to rest. If you leave him alone too long he'll start quietly doing chores.
Fun fact, it's actually scientifically proven that Skull heals faster if you treat him like the big baby he is. Put a blanket over him and a cup of tea on the coffee table, give him kisses while he drifts in and out of sleep. Turn on your favourite TV show and stay with him all day, pet his cranium when his head hurts, gently sing to him until he falls asleep. He spends so much time being the provider, the caregiver, the hunter, the gatherer, the protector. And as much as he adores caring for you... he completely forgot how it felt to be the one being cared for.
He doesn't mind being reminded. He doesn't mind at all.
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purple-babygirl · 2 months
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don't call me daddy II
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader Word count: 3,160 Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails. Warnings: Bucky is mean, a couple of insults, mistreatment of age regressed reader, manipulation, crying, mentions of the s-word, mention of the r-word, Bucky's PTSD & nightmares. A/N: I'm sorry I breathe pain but I love you:"💜x(also if you have any suggestions for these two just let me know). please enjoy💜 ~ Before Mrs. Morrison arrived, Bucky had made sure to make her a proper breakfast for the first time since she's been at his house. She couldn't need for anything today. Showered: check Fed: check Properly dressed: check
“And then what?” he asked, closing the peanut butter jar. “Then we pour the warm milk,” she instructed with a soft smile, helping Bucky prepare her meal. “I thought you were supposed to make this with cold milk.” “That’s just what the box says, but we’re not gonna listen,” she whispered as if scared to hurt the cereal box’s feelings. Bucky chuckled despite himself and finally, unintentionally allowed her a glimpse of something other than a frown. “You’re pretty,” she told him with a dreamy smile, already blushing at the fact that she made him smile. “Hey!” Bucky glared again as if he's just been insulted. “Sorry,” she huffed, looking at her breakfast being stirred. “You better be.” Bucky didn’t know why he acted so defensive or why he wanted her to be sorry. It was like there was something inside of him repelling anything nice or sweet that could be thrown his way as if it was a contagious virus. “Eat your breakfast so we can fix that hair of yours. Can’t believe you managed to mess it up again,” Bucky told her, walking away from the kitchen. “Bucky not gonna eat?” She tilted her head in question. “Mind your own business,” Bucky threw rudely, still avoiding her attempts at caring for him. She huffed again as she watched him sit before the TV, pretending to be focused on anything but her presence in his apartment. She had to take matters into her own hands. Ever so slowly, she rounded the kitchen counter and slightly opened the same cabinet Bucky had opened to get her a bowl out of. Thankfully, she found one other bowl. Twisting her hand side-ways, she pulled it out of the small opening she made in the cabinet door in slow motion in order not to alarm Bucky. And while he drowned in his own thoughts, she started preparing him a similar corn flakes bowl so he could have breakfast too. On the other side of the room, Bucky’s mind was attacking him with thoughts. What was he going to do during those three months? He’d already had his face flushed and his heart beat going a million per second when he had to give her a shower yesterday. He couldn’t believe the first time he got to see a naked lady after 70 years, it had to be her. A lady who wasn’t really a lady. He felt dirty. Like he shouldn’t have been doing that. She sounded so young but looked old enough and it messed with his head. How many more times was he supposed to do this again during those three months? “Here, Bucky,” she cut off his thoughts, carefully bringing forth a bowl of corn flakes in warm milk with honey. “Why didn’t you eat?” Bucky rolled his eyes, thinking she probably wanted him to feed her now. It was probably her chance while he was doing everything she wanted so that she wouldn’t rat him out to Mrs. Morrison. “It’s for Bucky,” she explained, setting the bowl before him on the floor. “Who said I wanted to eat that goo?” Bucky glared at her for acting like she knew what he needed. “It’s delicious, I promise. Give it a try.” She held a half full spoon up to him. Bucky was still as a statue, looking at her with a frown. He was too angry to even blink. “I. Don’t. Need. Your. Help.” He seethed through his teeth. “I know. But I wanted to share.” Her shoulders slumped, as she put the spoon back in the bowl. Bucky felt a tiny bit remorseful. No one’s made him food since his mom and internally, he was kind of grateful. But of course, he wouldn’t let it show. “Fine, gimme that,” he snapped, taking the bowl off the floor and shoving a spoon in his mouth. It was actually good, homely and soft enough to chew but not too saggy. Something about the taste of corn and the honeyed milk made Bucky warm inside. As Bucky chewed on his food, she ran back to the kitchen counter, picking up her bowl too and coming back to sit next to Bucky on the floor. “Do you like it?” She asked before slipping her spoon in her mouth. “I don’t hate it.” He shrugged, refusing to give her the pleasure of being right.
If only he knew she never cared about being right. “I’m happy you like it.” She beamed. “I didn’t say that.” “Fine.” She pouted, swirling her spoon around without eating. Bucky felt weird, almost like he felt bad. After all, she’s warned him about the visit and practically saved his butt from Sam and most importantly, his therapist. “Why didn’t you put peanut butter in mine?” Bucky nudged her with a question, refusing to utter a clear apology for his harshness. “Bucky doesn’t like peanut butter on cornflakes,” she whispered, still facing down and moving her spoon around the bowl. “And how did you know that?” Bucky raised his eyebrows because really, how did she know that? Do they give her a file too? “You said “ugh” while adding peanut butter to my cornflakes,” she explained simply. Huh. So she was observant and kind of… smart. “Eat your food,” Bucky said, holding the tip of her spoon to stop her from twirling it. He thought he used a gentler tone but apparently that wasn’t the case because she still looked melancholy. He didn’t have patience for this, for fuck’s sake! Bad word, his mind replied. So she was inside of his head now too?! “Ugh, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked, not sure why he did. Because he didn’t care.
He didn’t. “Why do you hate me?” Her small voice asked, sounding sadder than he’d ever heard her sound before. Her question surprised him and he stopped chewing. Bucky frankly had no idea why or if he hated her. He’d told himself he hated her on her first night here, but that was just because she invaded his space and overwhelmed him by doing everything he wasn’t used to. But now that he had to think about it, did he actually hate her? The answer was no and Bucky knew it. “I don’t hate you,” Bucky murmured, setting his bowl down and picking up hers. “You just confuse me very much.” Bucky held her spoon up to her lips. She looked at him and the spoon with so much hope that Bucky felt absolutely shitty for pretending to be nicer to her for the sake of today’s visit.
On the other hand, she couldn’t believe Bucky was offering her the spoon, feeding her. But Bucky didn’t care. He just needed this to go well, and he wasn’t about to let her ruin it because she wanted to have a long face today. “Confuse Bucky? Why? Doll never lies,” she said, her tone sincere and eyes begging Bucky to believe and trust her. Yeah, Bucky felt terrible. He decided that if he kept answering her with the truth that might take some of the guilt he was feeling away. “It’s not about lies,” Bucky replied, nearing the spoon to her lips more so she could eat. She complied and took the spoon into her mouth, wanting to hear more. “It’s that this is all new to me. This kind of stuff never existed in the 40s.” Bucky shrugged, getting another spoon ready. She ate the cereal obediently, chewing quickly so she can ask a question. “But Bucky doesn’t hate me?” She looked at him like her life depended on his answer. “No, Bucky doesn’t hate you,” Bucky chuckled at how cute she looked talking with food in her mouth, but quickly controlled himself. “Bucky just needs time to get used to everything.” She realized out loud, making Bucky swallow apologetically. Has he just been understood for the first time in years by someone other than Steve? It was the truth. Bucky needed time to get used to this and her. The only lies were that his actions weren’t because he really cared and that he didn’t want to get used to this or her. He tried hard to ignore the feeling the mere action of feeding her gave him, too. Taking care of someone like that? It felt good for some odd, unknown reason. Bucky nodded in reply, continuing to feed her, “yeah, I need time.” “I promise I’ll give you time, Bucky. I won’t annoy you no more.” Her eyes were genuine as humanly possible when she cradled his metal hand as it held her bowl and Bucky felt a pang in his chest. How could anyone be so patient and pure, especially these days? He couldn’t believe she still had it in her to consider how he felt in spite of the way he’s treated her. She must know nothing about him or his past. A knock on the door pulled Bucky out of his head and he swallowed nervously, putting the bowl down and standing up to answer the door. She took her bowl and his and quickly moved to sit on the couch, knowing it would look better that way. She was going to do her best to make everything easier on and for Bucky from now on and for the rest of her time with him. ~ After Mrs. Morrison has greeted them both and privately talked to Bucky in the kitchen, she took Doll to the bedless bedroom, wanting to make sure she really was okay. “Listen, doll, don’t feel like you have to do this. If Bucky is unwelcoming, you can come with me right now,” she reassured the girl, never wanting her to go through an unpleasant experience. “I’m okay, Mrs. Morrison, I promise.” She smiled. “Are you sure? Because I know he’s not the nicest I’ve ever met,” Mrs. Morrison joked, making the younger girl laugh. Of course, she had no idea that with Bucky’s enhanced hearing, he could hear them. He really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m sure. Bucky is not evil, he’s just misunderstood,” she told her, her tone sure. Now that had Bucky intentionally eavesdropping. What did she just say about him? “Is he now?” Mrs. Morrison smiled. “Yes, I swear! Even by himself.” She defended. “And how is that?” the woman was genuinely interested in making sure her girl wasn’t being abused.
“Big me read about him in the library before. He’s not a bad man. He’s a hero, Mrs. Morrison, but he doesn’t know it. He doesn’t think he deserves nice things but he does. He deserves all the nice things!” Bucky was wordless at her speech. Was that how she really thought of him? “But is he good to you, doll?” Mrs. Morrison asked. This was supposed to be the question he worried most about being answered, but Bucky was still frozen, trying to recover from the way her previous words hit him. “Yes, he’s good to me. Even got me a new stuffie!” She told the older woman excitedly without even taking a second to think about her answer, completely omitting the fact that she practically begged him to get her that stuffed animal. “Oh, really? I didn’t see it!” Mrs. Morrison was starting to feel good about this, thinking that maybe she’d misjudged Bucky. “I keep it in my bag when I wake up because I don’t wanna lose it. It’s a white wolf, just like Bucky!” “Just like Bucky?” the woman frowned in confusion. “It’s the name Bucky was given in Wakanda,” she explained. Bucky felt warmth spread throughout his chest for the first time in decades. She knew all that? “You’ve really done your homework huh?” Mrs. Morrison teased, getting up from the floor with Doll. “Big me likes history and research… and cute guys,” she giggled with a shy shrug, making Bucky huff half a chuckle. “Alright then, I will leave you with this cute guy and I’ll come back next month, okay? But until then, I want you to promise to take care of yourself, doll.” “I will, Mrs. Morrison,” she promised politely, giving the woman a tight hug, “thank you for coming.” Bucky closed the door behind the older lady, relieved that the visit went well. He let out a breath he was holding and stood with his back to her, unsure about what he should do. “Bucky,” she called out. “What’s wrong now?” Bucky huffed as he turned around. He felt bad when he saw her soft smile reaching her eyes at the sight of him just looking at her, but he couldn’t let it get to him.
He did what he had to do to save his ass.
She said a lot of nice things about him, but that didn’t mean he was going to yield to this unwelcomed, unwanted situation that Sam’s gotten him in. He didn’t need this. He wasn’t the one to start all this. “Do you wanna draw together?” She played with her fingers nervously. “I don’t know how to do that. You draw, okay?” Bucky said, showing no interest as he started putting his shoes on. “Bucky leaving?” Her voice was chocked with held up tears. “Yes.” He grabbed his keys, trying his best not to look at her dejected face. “But—” “You didn’t seriously think I would magically start wanting to spend time with you, did you?” She involuntarily let out a tiny gasp, hurt at the fact that he just manipulated her for the one reason that is Mrs. Morrison’s visit. “You gonna start crying again?” He made fun of her as he pulled his gloves on, not in the mood for the public stares. “Bucky!” she whispered, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Don’t wait up if you wanna fall asleep.” With that, Bucky slammed the door behind him, locking it and leaving her alone. She just fell on the couch, sobbing as her fists grabbed at her own knees.
How stupid was she? He’s already told her he never wanted her. Why would he suddenly want to spend time with her? Just because he fed her a couple of spoons? Stupid. Maybe she should’ve acted exactly the way he’d expected her to from the beginning. Maybe Bucky was right, there was nothing she could do to help. She wasn’t here to fix anything. Her presence was just a thing Bucky had to put up with, nothing more. ~ As Bucky walked down the street, he wanted to bang his forehead on the nearest wall. Why didn’t he just tell her he was going to get them food like he actually was? Why did he have to be mean and rude? He didn’t want to get her hopes up, he knew that. But that certainly wasn’t the best way to let her know. He could’ve talked to her and she would’ve understood. She was smart and far from a ‘retard’ like he’d so unfairly called her before. But no, he couldn’t get too close. He wouldn’t let her involve him in whatever she was doing. Whatever. Bucky didn’t want to think about her or her feelings. Or about the way her eyebrows knot when she’s about to cry... Or the tremble of her lower lip before the very first tear falls out… Damn it, he fucked up. Bad word, she would say… Bucky chuckled, shaking his head in defeat as he walked towards the nearest grocery store he knew of. ~ I'm sorry. I’m. Sorry. I am sorry Bucky quietly practiced before his closed door as if it was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. He needed to make this right. It really wasn’t her fault that they were making him do those things. She was nothing but sweet to him despite everything he’s done to and with her. When he was ready enough to open the door, however, her eyes weren’t on him like he’d expected and wanted them to be. In fact, they weren’t on anything because she was asleep. Bucky sighed as he dumbly waved the pizza box above her sleeping body. She didn’t have lunch because she was spending time with Mrs. Morrison and now she was asleep without dinner either because of him and his stupidity. “Hey,” Bucky called softly, well, softer than he’s ever talked to her. She didn’t answer, pretending to be fast asleep with her face buried in the corner of Bucky’s couch. He couldn’t see anything but her stuffed ducky looking back at him as if in blame. Oh. She was back to hugging her old stuffed animal. Not the white wolf Bucky’s gotten her. Bucky understood now that he’d messed up big time. She clearly didn’t angelically forgive him without an apology this time. He carelessly threw the unopened pizza on the kitchen counter, taking his jacket off and his place on the floor. He had no appetite now. He turned on the TV on silent and turned the lights off before letting out one long sigh.
She felt so bad because Bucky hasn’t eaten anything all day either, but she was too sad with him to do anything about it. Bucky didn’t want her to care for him, so she was going to finally listen to his wishes. When Bucky woke up from his nightmares that night, she had to continue pretending like it didn’t wake her up too. She squeezed her eyes shut and continued to bury her face in the cushion despite herself. No lullabies were sung and no water or tissues were offered. It was just Bucky lying alone on his floor again, sweaty, traumatized and regretful as one could be. She heard him moving around and apparently he was dressing because a minute later he left the apartment. When she peeked through the blinds, Bucky was jogging down the street. It was 4 am and she knew she couldn’t pretend to be asleep forever, but she’ll continue trying for now. ~ When Bucky came back from his 3-hour run, he had finally calmed down and he had a solid apology ready on the tip of his tongue this time. He was going to make this right and he was going to do it now. “Bucky.” He heard her panicked voice call his name and instantly fell into a protective mode he didn't know existed within his system. “I had an accident.” Bucky followed her tearful eyes down and when he looked at her bloodied PJ pants, Bucky was panicked too. He's seen a lot of blood, shed a lot of blood, but the sight of blood on her clothes freaked him out more than anything he has ever seen before. “What happened?!”
part III
~
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