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cradle-quill · 1 month

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The Pull of Love, an ABDL Story by CradleQuill

Disclaimer: All content is fictional, consensual, and intended only for mature audiences. All characters depicted are adults aged 18+

Image Credit: @babyvivi, who graciously granted me permission to use their photo. <3 _

This was a new experience for Vira. The sensation of a pull-up hugging her hips, of the padding between her thighs. As she laid in bed, she tossed and turned, trying to find the most comfortable position. All the while, her pull-up rustled from the movement, faintly crinkling as the cloth-backed material rubbed against her pile of blankets. She hadn’t expected it to be so difficult to relax while wearing them. She was alone for the moment, so it wasn’t like anyone could see her wearing the childish pink undergarment.

Perhaps it was enough that she knew. And that she knew her girlfriend knew, even if she wasn’t back yet. Vira had been wetting the bed off and on for as long as she could remember. Ever since she was little, she would wake up to the familiar feeling of wet, clammy sheets. Her bedwetting tended to come in waves, with her sometimes even going several months of managing to keep her sheets dry, only to then wet every night for weeks at a time.

Vira’s little bedwetting issue waned over time, becoming more infrequent as she aged into adulthood. But over the last few months, her little problem had creeped back up on her. It started as just a one-off accident, nothing to be too concerned about. She was sleeping over at her girlfriend’s house when she woke up early in the morning, before the sun had even risen, only to find herself in soaking wet sheets, with her girlfriend, Celia, asleep beside her.

Vira panicked, wanting more than anything in that moment to just disappear, but she knew she would have to tell Celia. Her accident was far too big to hide, and her panties were soaked. There would be no way to blame anything else, but she assured herself it would be okay, and that Celia would understand. And she did. After Vira gently massaged her girlfriend awake, Celia was nothing but compassionate.

There was no judgment in her eyes, not a hint of annoyance in her tone. There was just a soothing, almost melodic rhythm to her words as she consoled Vira, telling her it wasn’t a big deal, and that sometimes these things happened. Vira knew she was right. Sometimes these things did happen. They just happened to her more than others. But she was determined to do something about that. She would stop drinking so close to bedtime, and she would make sure to pee right before she fell asleep. She was an adult, already nearing her mid-twenties. This wasn’t going to become a frequent issue again.

And for a while, her precautions worked well. She stopped drinking after 8:00 PM, and always forced herself to sit on the toilet before bed, even if she didn’t have to go, until she finally peed. If Celia noticed her going to all those extra lengths, she was gracious enough to not say anything about them. They continued sleeping over at each other’s homes, and the next few weeks went by without issue.

But then one day, the two of them went to see a scary movie. Vira wasn’t much one for horror films, but Celia loved them, and she wanted to partake in her girlfriend’s hobby with her. So the two of them went to see the latest horror thriller haunting the local screens and causing all the moviegoers’ screams.

Celia made it through the whole movie without issue, of course, but Vira was on the edge of her seat the whole time. Every time there was a jump scare or moment of building tension, she gripped the armrests of her chair and dug her fingernails into the fabric, bearing down and gritting her teeth through the scene. By the end of the movie, she was actually quite proud of herself for how well she did, and Celia was ecstatic at what a good time she had.

They laughed and held hands the whole way home, reveling in each other’s presence and company. Celia was so impressed by how well Vira did. She even said she was so brave and really pushed herself out of her comfort zone. Vira felt the pride seep in as her cheeks burned blushing, and the two of them fell asleep that night holding each other, basking in the other’s warm embrace.

That night, Vira woke to her heart racing as she gasped for air. She shot up in bed, ripping the covers off herself and clamoring to the wall, where she felt safer and less exposed. Her dreams that night had not been kind to her. Haunting images of ghostly ghouls and ghastly sights flooded her mind, and even after she’d woken up, she couldn’t get them to cease their assault of her senses.

Vira was so scared she didn’t even notice that her panties were soaked once again. She was covered in sweat from head to toe, and the state of her underwear was the last thing on her mind. When Celia stirred awake to ask her what was wrong, she quickly realized the issue. She held Vira, even as she stood there in her sweaty, pissy clothes. Celia just consoled her, telling her it would all be alright, that she was there now. And at the sound of her melodic reassurance, Vira finally let herself relax. She clung to Celia, who held her tight and rubbed her back, until finally Vira was able to go clean herself up.

Celia offered to help, but there was no way Vira was letting her girlfriend help her clean up her bedwetting accident. So Vira pushed through it on her own, just as she had the time before. Celia seemed hesitant to let her do it alone, but she understood and relented. Once the bed was clean and the sheets were in the wash, Celia urged Vira to join her back in bed, but Vira refused. She stayed up the rest of the night, afraid that if she slept, not only would her nightmares return, but so too would her bedwetting.

Vira spent the next few days at home. Each night, she had another nightmare. And each morning, she woke up to a racing heart and soaking wet sheets. She tried everything she could think of to stop the accidents, but nothing worked. Not drinking before bedtime only made her dehydrated, and she still woke up wet. And sitting on the toilet for hours yielded no result. She was miserable, and the lack of quality sleep was making her even more cranky.

Celia had grown worried about her. She started coming over every evening after work, bringing Vira soup and a movie to watch together. These movies were much less scary, though. They were all cartoons meant for children, but Vira had to admit they brought her some comfort. She refused to let Celia spend the night, though, as she knew she would wake up in another pair of wet sheets each morning.

At first, Celia was understanding and obliged with Vira’s wishes. But as time went on, and Vira’s mood didn’t improve, Celia grew more and more concerned. One night, as they were watching a movie on the couch, Vira drifted off to sleep. She’d been struggling to keep her eyes open through the entire film, and despite her best efforts, she could not put off the call to sleep any longer.

Vira had no nightmares that night. She slept peacefully, and when she woke, she found her head on Celia’s lap. Her girlfriend had fallen asleep petting her hair, both of them still on the couch. For the first time in over a week, Vira’s heart was steady and calm, and she wasn’t afraid for her life as if she were being chased. But as her senses returned to her, she realized one thing had not changed. Her pants were still wet.

She’d peed all over the couch. A full puddle that had soaked the polyester, leaving a clear stain for all to see. The tears welled up, and though she tried to hold them back, she couldn’t stop them from overflowing, just like her bladder had. Celia woke to the sound of sobbing, and she hushed her girlfriend and continued petting her hair.

“There there, it’s alright honey,” she cooed.

Vira couldn’t find any words. She needed her girlfriend to hold her just to not have a nightmare, and even when she didn’t have one, she still woke up soaking wet. Her cheeks burned hotter than ever before, and she couldn’t look Celia in the eyes. As always, Celia was understanding and loving, even in the face of her girlfriend throwing what was in all reality a very childish pity party.

For the next few weeks, Celia spent almost every night at Vira’s place, only leaving to go to work, and only going home when absolutely necessary. Vira’s bedwetting didn’t stop. At first, she continued to insist on cleaning up each mess on her own. But as the days went on, and she grew more and more frustrated, Celia began cleaning up after her. She did all the laundry and hung the sheets out to dry.

The longer this went on, Vira noticed a change in Celia’s tone. She was still loving and kind, but her words grew more and more condescending, as if she were speaking to a child, someone so inferior to her that the very idea of them being equals would have been nothing more than an amusement. Part of Vira hated it. She wanted to lash out, to say something, but she feared that would just make her seem even more childish. And another part of her adored being doted on and taken care of, even if she would never admit it.

One day, Celia returned to Vira’s house late after work. Vira had prepared dinner for them, but it had grown cold while she waited. Immediately, she knew Celia’s absence was her fault. She was growing tired of her, getting fed up with having to take care of a bedwetting baby for a girlfriend. As soon as Celia walked through the front door, Vira was already apologizing to her. She told her how sorry she was, how she understood no one could desire a partner like this, and how she would understand if Celia needed space. The whole time, Celia just stood there, still in her coat, with a white grocery bag over one arm.

Once Vira was finished, Celia put the grocery bag down on the kitchen table, where the cold food awaited them. Vira stood there quietly in her shame, waiting for a response. “Honey, you’ve got it all wrong,” Celia said.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not upset with you, not at all. I know you’re embarrassed about these... accidents of yours, but it really isn’t a big deal. I don’t mind doing your laundry or cleaning up after you. I kind of like getting to play Mo-... house wife; it’s fun.”

Vira blushed harder and averted her eyes. “Look at me,” Celia said. She reached for Vira’s chin and pulled her eyes up to meet hers. “You have to believe what I’m telling you. I can’t do very much about those mean thoughts lingering about in your head, but I can tell you the truth of the matter with my words. So please try to hear me when I say them. Can you do that for me?”

Vira nodded, feeling like a scolded child receiving a gentle lecture from a parent.

“I love you. I am completely enamored with you in every way imaginable. These accidents change nothing about that, or how I see you. You’re still my partner, the woman I love. I’m not upset in the slightest. I’m just worried about you. For a while there, you were hardly getting any sleep. And since I’ve been here, it’s gotten better, but I will have to go home at some point, and I’m worried about leaving you without my protection. So...” She took a deep, long breath. “I brought you something. Please don’t freak out right away. Just breathe for a moment and take it all in.”

From the grocery bag, Celia pulled out a pink package. Pull-ups, the same ones Vira wore when she was younger and still wetting the bed. She immediately hid her face in her hands.

“I know you’re embarrassed, sweetie, but I really think this is for the best. You won’t have to worry about waking up in wet sheets anymore. And besides... I kinda think it’s cute, in a way.”

Vira’s face shot out of her hands. “Y-you do?” It was Celia’s turn to blush and look away. Her cheeks burned the same shade of pink as the package of the pull-ups. She just nodded.

“What do you find cute about them?” Vira continued.

“I just... like taking care of you. They make you seem, I don’t know... kind of helpless, I guess. But in a good way! I’m sorry, I know I’m not making any sense...”

Vira looked down at the floor. She thought for a moment, diving deep within herself to see if this was really what she wanted. Once she took the next step, she could never go back. Their relationship would change forever, and Vira didn’t know if she was ready. But she wanted it so badly. It called to her, and she yearned to meet its call.

“I-...” Vira hesitated. “I kind of like it too... Not the bedwetting part! Or the... pull-ups... But the part about you taking care of me. It’s... nice.”

Celia looked at her wide-eyed, and Vira twiddled with her thumbs. “S-say something,” Vira said. Celia just burst out laughing. Vira huffed and gave her girlfriend a big pout. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry,” Celia said, wiping a tear from her eye. “You’re just so cute when you’re embarrassed.” Celia walked forward and pulled Vira into a gentle but firm hug. Vira felt held, felt safe there in Celia’s grasp, as if she had been dangling above a cliff for so long, and now someone had her. Truly had her.

“I would be happy to take care of you. But that means you’ll have to be a good girl for me. And that starts with letting me help you into your pull-ups tonight. Do you think you can do that for me, hun?”

Even through the sheer embarrassment, Vira nodded into Celia’s shoulder. That night, Celia did just as she said she would. She helped Vira out of her panties, then into her new nighttime underwear. First one leg, then the other. Then she pulled the pull-up up between her thighs and over her hips, leaving it snugly in place.

Celia wouldn’t stop gushing over how adorable her girlfriend looked, and even though it was super embarrassing, Vira didn’t want this newfound form of attention to stop. Celia apologized for being so late and for letting the food get cold. She told Vira to sit tight while she ran out to grab some fast food for the two of them. That way, it would give Vira some time to get used to her new padded protection.

After Celia was out the door, Vira laid down in her bed, letting herself feel the embrace of the pull-up. She tossed and turned, trying her best to get comfortable. After some time, she felt a small twinge in her bladder. She needed to pee. She went to hop out of bed when an idea hit her, one that sent shivers down her neck and back. Sure, she could pull the pull-up down and use the toilet, but that sounded so... boring.

It would be much more interesting if she pretended to fall asleep and just wet herself right then and there. It was a silly thought, and she wasn’t really going to go through with it. Until she got to wondering if Celia would like it. If she would enjoy coming home to her girlfriend taking a little nap, only to wake up needing a change. Then she thought about what it would be like for Celia to change her wet pull-up, and her mind was made up.

Vira remained in bed. She took a deep breath and relaxed her bladder muscles until, after a few minutes, a slow, steady flow began trickling out. It took a lot of effort to not stop herself, but she powered through it, wetting herself all the while. The warmth spread through the padding, getting sucked up to the point she didn’t even feel very wet anymore. Suddenly, the sensation thrust Vira back to her childhood. To wet pull-ups after nighttime accidents. To potty training struggles when she was only a toddler. And then finally, to the serenity of being a baby. Of not having a single care in the world. Before she knew it, while basking in that serenity, she really had fallen asleep.

When Vira next woke, Celia was there, leaning over her and smiling down. “Time to wake up, sleepyhead. I see somebody had a bit of an accident while I was gone. What happened, honey? You just couldn’t stay awake?”

Vira didn’t know what to say. Part of her was humiliated, hearing her girlfriend talk to her, a fully grown adult, like she was a child. But deep down, she knew she wanted this. She loved it. The slight teasing, the invitation to give in, to just let go. She needed it, and in that moment, she decided once and for all that she would embrace it.

“M-mommy...,” Vira said. “I hadda accident... W-will you change me?”

For a second, Celia looked taken aback. But just as fast as her surprise had arrived, it faded as well. She smiled even more lovingly, the corners of her mouth gently curling. “Of course, honey. Mommy will be happy to take care of that for you.”

THE END _

This one turned out a fair bit longer, and more of a slow-burn, than my usual work on here. But I think it turned out fairly well, and I hope you all enjoy it <3

Make sure to check out @babyvivi's blog and give her a follow! She's adorable and super sweet :) _

Find CradleQuill on: Instagram | Subscribestar | Tumblr | Twitter

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wannabeschyulersister · 1 year

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flash me (rooster x reader)

*based on the episode of new girl where Jess walks in on Nick*

“I have to move out.”

Natasha set her drink back on the table, “Did Bradshaw finally drive you crazy? I told you having him as a roommate would eventually make you want to pull your hair out. Is he leaving the toilet seat up all of the time?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Is he having too many “special” guests over?”

You shook your head, “Nope.”

“Then what happened?”

You looked around to see if any of the squad members were close enough to hear your conversation.

“Uh, I walked in on him.” You whispered.

Natasha leaned close, “What did you say? I can barely hear you.”

“I walked in on him in the bathroom.” You quickly said.

Your best friend looked a little confused, “Was he on the toilet?”

“I walked in on him naked!”

Natasha froze and the started laughing as if you said the funniest joke she’d ever heard. It annoyed you but you knew if situations were reversed you’d be laughing your ass off too.

Just then, Jake sidled up to you as if appearing out of nowhere, “I heard the word “naked” and Phoenix laughed so hard she has tears coming out. I have to get in on this conversation.”

“(Y/n) walked in on Bradshaw naked.” Natasha blurted out as she wiped away her tears.

You tried to pinch her but she moved out of your grasp, “I wasn’t trying to tell the whole damn bar!”

“I won’t say anything, sweets.” Jake promised, “Now, what did you see? A little backside? Full frontal?”

You looked down at your hands, “Uh both?”

“You poor lady. Seeing Bradshaw naked can be absolutely traumatic for anybody.” Jake joked.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not traumatized! I just can’t look him in the eyes anymore which makes our living situation awkward.”

“How did he react?”

“He tried to cover himself as much as he could but it was too late. This is why I always scold him to lock the damn bathroom door!”

“You know what you have to do right?” Jake asked.

“Move out, change my name and run to Europe.”

He chuckled at your plan, “No, sweets. You got to show him something of yours.”

“Hangman, you’re an idiot.” Natasha told him.

He ignored her, “Think about it. You’d be even and not at all embarrassed every time that you see him. A flash is all it takes.”

“Please don’t listen to him. You don’t have to flash Bradshaw. Just talk to him. Acknowledging how awkward it is and moving on like adults is the right thing to do.” Natasha gave sound advice that you should definitely listen to.

“Phoenix, that sounds like the logical thing to do but I might go with Jake’s plan.”

“Why do I even bother to give out advice?” Natasha mumbled to no one.

“I appreciate your advice but I feel like I’m always going to feel awkward if things are even.”

Before Natasha could respond with how ridiculous you were being, Bradley walked into the bar. He looked around and spotted you instantly. It wasn’t hard to detect the pink tint that dusted his cheeks.

Bradley went over to the bar and planted down on one of the stools. Any other time, he would’ve pulled up a chair with the three of you and joined in.

“See. I can’t live like this. Bradley won’t even sit with me now.”

“Wow, maybe you do need to flash him.” Natasha said.

“So, what are you going to do?” Jake asked. He was clearly enjoying this more than he should.

You wished that Bradley would’ve just locked the damn door that morning so you both would’ve avoided all of the mess.

“I guess I’m going to flash Bradley.”

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster x y/n #top gun maverick x reader

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mull3ts · 1 year

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[ 𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒; ONE WAY TICKET ]

⚠︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Smut (18+), Dilf! Aged Up! Friend’s Dad! Mark, Daddy Kink, Blowjobs, Dry Humping, Degradation/Praise Kink

Mark thought he was like you once, shy, timid, unsure. But one singular move proves him completely wrong.

You were introduced to him as his daughter’s friend, the daughter of the couple next door, swinging by for a few weeks before heading back to campus. He gave you a handshake, a polite smile. He thought you were just a little shy when you could barely hold up a conversation with him, only speaking when he asked you something.

Initially, Mark didn’t think anything of it.

He knew you were watching a movie with his daughter, so he went back up to his room, tending to whatever business he needed to. That’s when he thought something of it. He thought about how pretty you are, gorgeous even. Sure you were shy, but he’s sure that some people are like that at your age. He knows he was like that at your age.

Mark’s not blind, he could see right through you from where your eyes subtly darted when he spoke to you. He likes you. Besides being a sight for sore eyes, you’re smart, clever, witty, he sees the way you talk to his daughter. He just wishes that maybe you were a little bolder.

Mark Lee doesn’t make first moves.

That’s when you lied between your teeth to your friend saying you needed to use the bathroom. You didn’t really. You didn’t even know why you even told her that. So, you walked upstairs, hunting for the bathroom when you decided to go…left, right, left…right—you decide to go right. As soon as you do, the bedroom door swings open making you stumble back into a wall. You blink a couple of times.

Oh look, it’s Mr. Lee.

“Holy shit,” he apologizes, his eyes widening in horror. “A-Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

You’re still rapidly blinking, also in horror. “N-No, sorry, Mr. Lee. I- I didn’t mean to, uhm, yeah.”

He’s confused for a second. He glances at the bathroom door. “Were you gonna go in there?”

“Uh-”

“Because, honestly, the toilet’s just kinda like a little-”

Screw it. The next thing you know you’re shoving his chest back into his room. He hums a little in surprise, muttering “What the—?” the moment the door clicks behind you. You’re a little surprised you did that.

He’s a little surprised he let that happen.

You breathe in. “I want to suck your cock.”

What the fuck. You’ve never done this before. Why did you just tell him that? You're only acquainted with Mr. Lee and, to be completely honest, you don’t even remember his first name—John? Marcus? William? You're sure it starts with an M. You’re also sure it’s probably Mark.

Mr. Lee does a double take. “Did you say…?”

You nod. “Yes. I wanna get on my knees and gag on your cock.”

He narrows his eyes down at you.

“Please.” You add, hoping that maybe it’ll convince him.

“Y/n, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he trails off like he’s skeptical. “You’re young, I’m like twice your age..and I don’t think maybe you’d wanna mingle around some guy like me, honey. You should go for someone younger, maybe, closer to your age, y'know live your life.” He continues, “Besides, I’m an adult, you’re probably barely an adult, and I just don’t think you should be getting into adult games you should be getting into young adult things.” His hands are on your shoulders at this point.

Is this man serious? He’s not your dad. “Y’know, Mr. Lee, thank you for the fatherly advice, but, I’d rather you give me life lessons while your cock is in my mouth.”

One of his eyebrows is cocked up, probably in amusement. “Uh-huh…you sure you wanna…”

“Suck your cock? Yes.” you answer immediately. “Please.” You add, again.

“Well,” he shrugs, walking over and sitting in one of his cushioned chairs. “Just tell me if it gets too much for you, honey.” he sighs, pointing for you to sit in-between his thighs—you quickly oblige, getting on your knees in front of him.

You look up at him as you unfasten his belt, pull down the zipper; your fingers reaching for the waistband of his briefs. His voice interrupts your movements, “You sure my kid’s not gonna wonder where you went?” he pries “Whatcha’ gonna do if she comes in to see her pretty little friend gagging on her dad’s cock, hm?”

Fuck you for wearing shorts. You could feel your wetness begin to ooze out of you.

The corner of Mark’s mouth curls up just a little when you don’t respond to him, opting to pull his briefs down lower until his swollen dick slips out, slapped against his stomach. Your lips part in awe, looking at it up and down; your eyes fixate on the white fluid beading at the tip. It’s precum according to Twitter.

Your stomach is doing somersaults. Why did you think you could do this? Why did you think you could fit all of that in your mouth? You have a gag reflex!

Fingers creep through your hair, almost soothing you, messing your hair just a little. “Go on, baby,” he pushes. “Take it just like you told me you wanted to.”

You press an unassuming kiss on the base of his cock first, earning a curse from him.

God you’re such a virgin.

You stick your tongue out, letting it glide from the base up to the precum where you close your mouth around the tip. His fingers in your hair leave your scalp, the fingers wrap around your hair creating a makeshift ponytail, insinuating he wants to have control over her. Maybe he’s holding back.

Yeah Mark is definitely holding back.

If it was anyone else like one of his flings, he would’ve already been far into their throat, shoving his dick in as far as allowed. But he’s not. Because you’re different. He likes you. He definitely likes you. If you were just anyone else he would be less…reserved. He doesn’t want to scare you. He’s refraining himself.

It’s not for long, though. You come to realize that you need more, you want him to teach you about his stupid “adult games”. You use one of your hands to play with his balls and the other to hold onto his calf. You release your hold when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, a.k.a the part you couldn’t fit in your mouth. He twitches in your mouth, while he cusses again, his grip on your hair tightening. You assume you’re into pain by the way your cunt clenches around nothing at the feeling.

Mr. Lee clicks his tongue, the “tsk” he gives is just a little condescending. Using his free hand, he grips your jaw to help you out a bit, easing his dick further into your mouth. “Such a pretty girl with a pretty mouth,” he grins. You take another inch of him, trying your best to use your tongue more than your teeth. You conclude sucking dick might be harder than you thought.

“Look at you, struggling on my dick. Pretty baby’s havin’ a little trouble down there, isn’t she?” he chuckles at the way you glare up at him, all helpless and at his disposal. “Don’t forget to breathe through your nose, baby.”

You try to breathe in, breathing in his scent as you take him deeper, letting him guide you by your hair. You swirl your tongue around his base, emitting soft groans from him. Gosh your jaw hurts. And he hasn’t even hit your throat yet!

He groans, loudly. “Fuck, I love your little—shit—You ever had a cock in your mouth, baby?”

You don’t answer, his hold on your jaw tightens. “Answer me.”

Tears are forming in your eyes as you shake your head. You pull back a little only to plunge his cock farther, his pubes tickling your nose just a little.

“Good girl,” he praises, your chest swells with pride. “Such a smart girl, aren’t you?”

You’re so wet now, you’re desperate. You bob your head, tears becoming more prevalent in your eyes everytime he hits your throat. He smiles, using his thumb to wipe away your tears while still holding your jaw.

You finally have the courage to look up at him, seeing how large he appears from this angle. He’s got a small smirk on his face, a strand of his greying hair fallen on his forehead.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Look at how fuckin’ gorgeous you look,” He praises, now rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “You’re such a slut too, beggin’ to suck your friend’s dad’s cock. You love my cock, don’t you?”

You whine around his dick, gasping when he yanks you by the hair to pull out. He’s looking at you expectantly. A smirk plastered on his face. You bite your lip, nodding your head eagerly. “Yes!” you cry “Yes, sir!”

He’s immediately satisfied, plunging your mouth back straight to his dick. This time, you hollow out your cheeks, sliding your mouth even further and backwards. His hips thrust upwards, clutching your hair harshly as he uses your mouth. “Such a good girl for me, baby, fuck. Baby knows how to use her mouth for some good, huh?”

His praise makes you hum around his shaft. Though, a part of you feels just a little jealous he’s been with other people. Not to mention the fact that he’s clearly had a wife.

Mr. Lee’s dick hits the back of your throat making you gag around him. “Thaaat’s my little slut,” he groans out. “Gag on my dick like I know you wanna.”

You do as you’re told, letting his cock slide into the back of your throat over and over again. You feel him twitch inside you, his hips beginning to stutter.

He cusses again, “M’gonna cum, baby,” he pants “M’gonna cum down your throat, and you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, aren’t you?” he chuckles. “You’re gonna take it just like you wanted, pretty girl.”

You whine around his cock. He smiles.

Mr. Lee is beyond pleased. Good.

“Fuuuck,” he lets out a long drawl before he shoots his cum straight down your throat. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head at the feeling. He yanks you off his dick, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his dick. “Swallow it all.”

You oblige. Looking up at him when you’ve taken everything. “I’ve never done that before.” you timidly admit.

He scrunches his nose at you, his eyes still hooded. “Lying is a bad, bad thing to do, little girl.”

You pout, “I swear!”

“Then you’re very good at it,” he holds your jaw again, his thumb parting your lips. “You ever been kissed before?”

“Once or twice.” you murmur, a little ashamed.

He gives you a little smile, his lips now touching—kissing yours. You whine against him, your hand resting on his thigh. He grins against your lips, reaching down to pick you up and place you on his thigh. You’re pretty sure he can taste his cum now that his tongue made its way inside.

Something possessed you when you were straddling his thigh, the next thing you knew, you were rubbing your cunt on his leg.

Mr. Lee chuckles softly, watching you in complete amusement as you humped his thigh. You’re so sensitive from rubbing your thighs together that you’re such a whiny mess on him. Yes, you still need to get back to your friend (his daughter), but yes—you feel too good to do so.

He keeps you secure, his hand still on your waist as he watches you use his thigh to your heart's content, moaning and whining out just for him. You don’t even care that you’re leaving a damp spot on his stupid trousers. “Get off on my thigh, you poor baby, you need to cum so badly, don’t you?”

You sob, his hand on your waist comforting you. “Please,” you begin to beg, “J-Just wanna cum, Daddy, please~”

That’s the exact moment his grasp on your waist tightens, his already dark eyes grow darker. “Good girl,” he praises, his heart swollen from pride by the name you called him. “Such a good girl making yourself cum all over Daddy’s thigh.”

You cry out, your body shuddering and clinging onto the man for dear life. As if you could get any closer to your orgasm, he continues.

“That’s why you need me, huh, you need a fuckin’ Daddy.” he groans “None of these boys, lousy little inexperienced college boys. Do they bother you, baby? Is that why you come to me to get off? You come to me to guide you? Why you need your Daddy?”

A loud moan leaves your lips, “Yes, yes, yes, Daddy! T-That’s why I need you, need y-you so…so bad!”

“Good baby,” he coos, drawing out the “O” as he lifts your flimsy shirt above your head, pushing your bra out of the way, pinching your nipples. “Cum. Cum for Daddy, sweetheart.”

Your limbs turn all jelly-like, and the next thing you know you’re like a puddle in Mr. Lee’s arms. Screaming and crying as your body spasms with nothing but pleasure, it’s like you’re seeing stars. You can barely hear him praising you endlessly as you cling onto him. You’re a hundred percent sure you’re sobbing tears.

He’s got a shit eating grin on his face as he takes you in. His finger dipping in your shorts to find the slick that’s gushed out of you, holding it to his mouth to taste. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles to himself as his eyes shoot to your tits then right back at your face. “Pull your shirt down, baby.” The smile never leaves his stupid face. “And fix your cute little bra.”

Your face is on fire. You glare at him, fixing your bra. This man can’t be real.

You’re both just staring at each other now, not really paying any mind to the time or anything else, really. But, the clock on his wall is like a slap in the face. You sigh. “I- I should really go.”

Mr. Lee looks at his watch. He sighs, “Guess so, baby.”

You place a kiss to his cheek and throw him a demure smile when you pull away. “You know where to find me.”

He rolls his eyes at you before grabbing your face, kissing you right on the lips. He pulls away. “Dunno ‘bout that honey,” he teases.

“Then maybe open your window later for a little something, Daddy.” you tease back.

You both realized your rooms’ windows face eachother.

Perfect.

“Maybe I will.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, biting back another smile. “See ya, Mr. Lee.”

“Later, gorgeous.”

You leave his room, closing the door behind you with an ear-to-ear grin on your face. Before you know it you’re lying to your friend again about how sick you feel, saying you need to go home.

On your way up to your room, you’re mouthing “Mark” until you open your window. Your face heats up when his window is already wide open, he’s already there giving you one of his shit-eating grins.

You beam back at him. Luckily, you managed to get his number from his daughter. You call him. He looks at you questionably, but picks up, amused.

“Hey there, old man.” you taunt.

“You really shouldn’t have came into my room, honey.”

“Really? Why not?” you pout.

“Being with your friend's dad really isn’t good for you.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “And how do you know what’s good for me Mr. Mark ‘know it all’ Lee?”

“Cause' I’m older.” he extends his arms, stretching “Got more life experience.”

“So,” you prod. “Whatcha’ gonna do about it, hm?”

“Knock some sense into you.”

“Uh-huh,” you raise your eyebrows. “How do you plan on doing that, exactly?”

His eyes never leave yours. “You’ll see.”

★ Adult Games | A “One Way Ticket” work | wc: 2.6k

★ Taglist | @chitaphrrrr @nctdom @shescharlie @marklexleaf @jenos-bbygirl @the-universe-in-you-jjh @shiningdery @aecu @moonlightjaemin @donutswithjaminthemiddle @f4irycoven @meowniee @jenoxygen @yincotton @luvjeongjaehyun @gyyyyyu @sunshinedhyuck @3ranch @pinkynana @dialosthermind @ishireads @icy-thot @fineapplehoe @sbngcha @chaerincl @lookingforangst @skye-is-here @hyuckypjm @airpodbaekuwu @bellamendoza @miyahhhhh @damiien-haas @imrinana @cyclothimikhh @back2jisung @aintdprian @tacojisung @nana-blair @xuxibelle @billboard-singer @yesohhsehun @w0nuuu @lava1004 @kpoplover-19 @allofuswantgwinam @if-i-like-i-reblog @beautywine @anowamij @beautywine

©earth-to-that-asian/mull3ts, 2023

#nct smut #nct dilf #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct mark smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut imagines #nct dream smut

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sissydiaperloverzoe · 10 months

Text

What Diaper Discipline elements do you want?

This list is to help you think about the elements of Diaper Discipline you want and can also be used by a partner to list elements they’re comfortable with.

Reblog with what you’d pick!

Let us know in comments if we’ve missed anything ❤️

Diaper Wearing:

Disposable Medical Diapers

Disposable ABDL Diapers

Pull Ups

Cloth Diapers

Diaper Usage:

Wetting

Messing

Frequency:

24/7

Forced Usage:

Bulk forming / Fibre

Suppositories

Oral Laxatives

Enemas

Castor Oil

Catheters

Locking Clothing / Pant

Hollow Butt Plugs

Anal Stretching

Toilet untraining

Checks & Changes:

Partner checks if you need changed exclusively (you can’t ask for changes)

Partner changes you into dry diapers

Partner changes wet diapers

Partner changes messy diaper

Partner does all changes (Not allowed to change yourself)

Partner changes in public (i.e. back of car / disabled washroom)

Adult Baby Clothing:

T-shirt and exposed Diaper

Plain Onesies

AB Onesies

AB Rompers

AB Footed Sleepers

AB Pyjamas

AB Play Clothes (Shortalls, Dresses, etc)

Spreader pants

Mittens

Booties

Bonnets

Adult Baby Accessories:

Pacifier

Bottle

Sippy Cup

Bib

Baby Blanket

Teddy

Chew Toys

Diaper changing bag

Adult Baby Furniture:

Changing Mat

Diapers on display

Changing Table

Crib

High Chair

Playpen

Bouncer

Public Wearing / Usage:

Wear diapers in public

Wet diapers in public

Mess diapers in public

Wear diapers around friends & family

Wet diapers around friends & family

Mess diapers around friends & family

Wear diapers at work

Wet diapers at work

Mess diapers at work

MDLB / DDLG Behaviours:

Being called Baby

Sweet talk (being talked to as if a small child/baby)

Must hold hand in public at all times

Calling partner Mummy/Daddy

Diaper pats

Helped to get dressed/undressed

Bottle feeding

Pretend breast feeding

Spoonfed adult food

Spoonfed baby food

Baby talk

Crawling

Bondage:

Locking Diaper Covers / Plastic Pants

Locking Mittens

Pacifier Gags

Bed Restraints

Straight Jackets

Full Fixation Restraints

Chastity:

Male chastity cage

Self-imposed chastity

Punishments for masturbating in diapers

Punishments:

Time-Outs

Denied/delayed diaper changes

Forced pacifier use

Chastity

Laxatives

Bottom stuffing with a butt plug

Restrained

Loss of adult privileges

Masturbation & Sex:

Vibrator though diaper

Butt plugs

Diaper humping

Prostrate massage (combined with Chastity device)

Pegging

Cuckolding

Sissy:

Pink AB Diapers

Girly AB Onesies

Female AB clothes (dresses, etc)

Full sissy attire

Fake breasts / bras

Makeup & painted nails

Exposure:

Private photo album

Anonymous social media account (faces hidden & identify keep secret)

Attending ABDL events

Visiting ABDL shopS

Public diaper exposure

#diaper training #diaper discipline #diaper pee #diaper dependent

644 notes · View notes

dilatorywriting · 2 years

Text

Heroes vs. Villains : The Staff

Platonic GN!Reader x NRC Staff vs. RSA Staff Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. NRC Staff Version (Part 1: Crewel and Crowley)

ie. Headmaster Crowley is a nightmare, and Professor Crewel is, well, cruel. And to be perfectly honest, after meeting another dog-loving professor who doesn't treat you like absolute garbage, the Royal Sword Academy is starting to look a lot more appealing.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me!’

Crowley had chirped that very sentiment to you ad nauseum, with all the enthusiasm of an old raven eyeing a shiny penny.

“Do you really believe that?” you sniffled, angry, as you sat slumped over in one of his rickety office chairs.

People at this stupid school were mean. And yeah, school yard insults and casual accusations of being the House Wardens’ little bitch were one thing—but these assholes would go right for the throat. All of your insecurities—your fears—all laid out like a nice spread of hors d'oeuvres ready for the picking. You had endured enough sharp barbs for a lifetime, and the fact that your glorious Headmaster and self-proclaimed parental figure kept writing it all off as a ‘learning experience’ was driving you mad.

“Of course I do, dear child!” he beamed. “What sort of educator would I be if I didn’t practice what I preach! Words are but the wind, as they say!”

You nodded, sage, and shot him a smile so sugary sweet it could rot the teeth right out of his skull.

“I wish I’d never met you and I hope that all your feathers fall off one by one,” you chirped. “And I use the ‘Number One Child’ mug you gave me to scoop water out of the toilets when the plumbing fails.”

Crowley’s mouth fell open with a nearly audible clunk, and if he weren’t so wrapped up in all kinds of immoral, black magic, bull-shittery, you would have liked to imagine that maybe that had been the sound of his heart cracking in his stupid, embroidery-covered, chest.

You popped up from your chair and breezily made your way to the exit. You propped yourself up against the intricate, wooden, frame and clapped your hands together like a bubbly preschool teacher addressing a room full of particularly dull children.

“I’m glad we could get that out in the open in a completely pain-free way. Words really can’t hurt anyone!”

You managed to slip the door closed just as he started to wail.

That afternoon you made your way to Professor Crewel’s office, as had become your routine. It was nice. Sometimes you would help him grade papers, sometimes you would just nibble on fancy cookies and listen as he ranted about the incompetence of certain staff members which shall not be named.

Sometimes his dogs were with him in the afternoons—a pair of giant, lithe, wolf-like beasts that were most certainly of a very proud and expensive lineage. Jasper was the black one and Badun the white, and each had a coat so glossy and well-maintained that they could put your own hair care to shame. Badun was enthusiastic, charismatic, and would bound to greet anyone who entered. Jasper was more quiet, reserved, but he was secretly your favorite of the duo. Whenever you stopped in after classes, the shadowy hound would lumber over and rest his giant head in your lap.

“No puppies today?” you called when you were greeted with silence rather than a wave of happy kisses.

“They’re in for their groom,” Crewel mumbled, busy at work with his head bowed over some lab reports or other. Normally he would grouchily correct you that his two precious pooches were adults. Dogs. And should be addressed as such. He must have been really distracted today. Or maybe you were just wearing him down.

You settled into the lovely, plush, chair off to the side that you had long since claimed as your own, and set your bookbag on the floor by your feet with a thump.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence with nothing but the sound of scratching ink over paper to break up the monotony, Professor Crewel dropped his head into his hands with a miserable sort of sigh.

“You should not have spoken to Crowley as you did.”

You blinked, startled. “What?”

“I of all people understand how frustrating the Headmaster’s antics can be,” Crewel continued, firm. “But you are still a student of this Institution—and one in a precarious enough position as it is. So you need to be mindful of your tongue.”

Indignation roiled through your gut, followed by a sharp prick of disquiet that you couldn’t quite place.

“Then he should be mindful to treat me like a student and not some—some pet project,” you huffed, kicking irritably at your patched backpack for want of nothing else to do. “And besides, what’ll he even do? Expel the one person in this entire college who mops up every single one of his messes? And I mean, it’s not like he’s running around the school crying or anything. I wasn’t that mean.”

Crewel pinched the bridge of his nose and you paused, mouth parting in surprise.

“Oh come on, he did not.”

“In the name of preserving our esteemed leader’s dignity I will say no more on the matter,” he grit out, and you fought the urge to immediately whip out your phone to message Ace, and Cater, and every other rabid gossip you could think of.

“Well, maybe he deserved it,” you snipped, crossing your arms stubbornly across your chest. A bit of cautious warmth spread through you and you nervously plucked at one of the loose threads on your uniform sleeve. “And besides,” you mumbled. "He can cry about me calling him a shitty father all he wants. You’ve been way more of a dad to me here than he could ever try to be.”

“I beg your pardon.”

You froze, fingers locking in place around the picked-apart edges of your jacket. The ice in his voice was unfamiliar and entirely unpleasant. It sent a frigid wave of worry curling through your veins. Had you overstepped? You’d thought—You’d just thought—

“I-I mean,” you spluttered. “I only meant that, well… Uhm… You’re really nice to spend time with. A-And, I just…” He made you feel like you were home again. Like even though Ramshackle was empty and cold, that you could still walk into this little office and say ‘I’m back!’ to an actual, real-life person and not just the shadows that lived in your foyer.

“Let me be perfectly clear, Prefect,” he sneered. There was an undercurrent of hostility running so sharply through every word that you were left wondering frantically if you’d unintentionally trampled over a sensitive topic. You hadn’t thought it was a big deal. You just—you just really, really looked up to him. And felt safe with him. And—And—

‘I’m sorry,’ you wanted to say. But instead you just let out an odd kind of choked squeak.

“I have no intention of playing parent to anyone,” he snapped. “Let alone an untrained brat who can’t even be bothered to play civil with the people who do attempt to care for them.”

Ouch.

“R-Right,” you spluttered, swallowing around the burbling lump in your throat and the warmth prickling along your lash line. “O-Of course. I’m sorry for assuming. I—I… uhm…”

‘I’ll just go then.’

But just like with failed apology, those four little syllables just couldn’t seem to make it past your lips either. So instead you just shakily snatched your bag from the floor and bolted from his office, burrowing your stinging cheeks as far into your collar as they would go. The last thing you needed to do was give anyone at this stupid school any more ammunition against you. And ‘Cry Baby Prefect’ sounded like another nasty nickname that would stick to you like gum to a flat-heeled shoe.

It’s fine, you whispered to yourself, voice wobbling far more than you would have liked. Grim hated when you came back smelling like dogs anyways.

“My goodness, are you alright?”

You blinked, harried, and glanced around yourself properly for what felt like the first time in hours. You were… not on campus anymore. Huh. What a trip. You’d never been so upset that you’d blindly run off into an entire new town before. But you supposed there was a first time for everything. You did remember feeling too nauseous to return to your little hovel for the evening, but you hadn’t really expected your frantic pacing to take you quite this far out of the way.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

Oh. Someone was talking to you, weren’t they?

Standing in front of you was a tall, lanky, man in a tweed jacket. He was stooped down a bit to make eye contact with you, and those hazel eyes were creased with worry. His blonde hair was pushed half-off his forehead in a style that looked more haphazard than intentional, and the hand he was offering you was littered with splotches of ink. There were patches of white and black dog fur littered across his entire outfit like some horrible fashion statement, and the thought of puppies made your throat tighten up all over again.

“My name is Cliff Rogerson,” he said, steady and kind. “I’m one of the instructors at the Royal Sword Academy. Are you lost? Do you know how to get home from here?”

Do you know how to get home?

You laughed once, manic, and then promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, dear,” he sighed, his heavy brow furrowing low with concern, and patted you consolingly on the shoulder. “Oh, dear.”

You were herded into a nearby café and directed into one of the quiet, corner, booths. The lights were soft and fuzzy in here, and the pleasant warmth of fresh pastries brushed gingerly along your frayed nerves. Mister Rogerson pressed a steaming mug of hot chocolate into your hands, and placed a delicately wrapped muffin off to the side of it. It was a tempting offering, and you decided to unbury your head from your hands long enough to partake.

“So how did you end up out here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m a student at Night Raven,” you mumbled into your cocoa.

You could tell he was doing his best not to look shocked, which was at least a dozen steps above the way the rest of your stupid school would just gawk at you in outright consternation.

“Forgive me,” he smiled, gentling his apprehension into something that was more polite curiosity that anything. “But you don’t really seem like one of their usual pupils.”

So you explained your situation—the Mirror, and the magiclessness, and the homelessness. You talked about your friends, and your new demon cat/evil baby, and how much you missed stupid things like good shower pressure and fuzzy socks. Mister Rogerson listened to all of it with an attentive sort of sympathy that you hadn’t seen since, well, probably since you were dropped face-first into a school full of burgeoning war criminals.

“That sounds like a time and a half,” he said once you’d finally tired yourself out. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all that.”

You picked at your muffin. It was ridiculously fluffy and eating it felt like pulling bits and pieces out of a cloud. A very, very delicious cloud.

“Forgive me for saying so,” he hummed, pensive. “But your situation doesn’t sound particularly safe.”

You laughed. “That’s one word for it.”

Mister Rogerson frowned, another twitch of that uneasy worry playing across his face. He ruffled around in his jacket pocket for a moment and pulled out a neat, cream colored, business card.

“It may be overstepping of me to offer, but at the same time I do think as an educator it’s my duty to try and help every student that I can,” he smiled, kind. It crinkled the skin around his eyes. “The RSA is not overly far from Night Raven College. If you ever want to stop by—if you ever need an ear to listen, or just a space to get away from it all—my door will always be open to you.”

You took the little piece of paper carefully, like it was something precious. There were swirls of colorful music notes splattered across the backdrop of it—raucous bursts of neons that were as endearing as they were ugly.

‘Tacky,’ spat a too-familiar voice in the back of your head. ‘What sort of statement was this lowlife trying to make?‘ You could practically feel the phantom distaste emanating from wherever a certain two-toned professor had camped out for the evening.

Probably at home, you thought bitterly. Because he has a home, right? And you are not at all upset that you will never be welcomed into it. And that you will probably never get to cuddle his puppies ever again. Nope. Not at all.

You swallowed the little burst of unpleasantness that accompanied the train of thought, and pocketed the card with a smile.

“Thank you. I’ll definitely have to take you up on that.”

Divus Crewel was many things, and unfortunately, being as cruel as his namesake was often one of them. He glanced back to the clock ticking on his wall for what was perhaps the dozenth time that hour. You hadn’t been by since his—ah—outburst a few weeks prior.

He had perhaps reacted a bit more unpleasantly than he normally would have. You’d just… caught him off guard was all. It was a bold declaration you’d made, and what? Had you really expected him to be overjoyed by the idea of forced parenthood? To swoon over the notion that someone had decided to latch onto him and his perfectly pressed suit like a leech despite the fact that he was so obviously thriving in his life of solitude?

And it wasn’t that he expected you to take his biting comments lying down. Oh no. You were fierce, and determined, and were most likely on your way here to bang down his door demanding recompenses for all your suffering. There was a tray of those too-expensive cookies you liked tucked away in his top drawer. Just in case you did show up and throw one of your tantrums, and he needed something quick to pacify you. That… That was all.

But each day that he waited for you to sneak back into his office was another spent in quiet solitude. Badun had taken to whining at the door and Jasper hardly got up from his bed at all—just tucked his black nose into his equally black paws and stared straight into Crewel’s soul. Like he was judging him.

He caught himself glancing at the clock again and forcibly turned back to his work.

This was ridiculous. You were ridiculous. And stubborn. And so, very, danger prone. Had something happened maybe? Was that why you’d disappeared—because you’d gotten caught up in some sort of trouble again?

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick—

He looked back at the clock.

Tick. Tick. Tick—

His office door flew open with a BANG and he swiveled in his chair, ready to chastise you for making such a ridiculous entrance. Instead, he ended up nearly nose-to-nose with a weeping Dire Crowley. The man wailed into his clawed hands, looking very much like he might accidentally stab himself in the eye all the while.

“HOW AM I SUCH A FAILURE OF A PARENT?!” he bawled. “WHAT COULD I HAVE DONE TO PREVENT THIS?!”

“What?” Crewel gaped, head spinning. “What’s happened?”

Crowley let out another inhuman squawk and shoved a piece of parchment into the alchemist’s crimson-gloved hands. It was torn at the top, likely from where it’d been pinned to something before the raving Headmaster had swiped it. Crewel read over the familiar script with narrowed eyes, something unpleasant twisting in his belly.

‘The Ramshackle Prefect kindly sends their regards, but unfortunately has other commitments for this evening. Please contact Professor Cliff Rogerson of the RSA music department in case of an emergency.’

“MY BABY LEFT ME!” Crowley sobbed, nearly inconsolable. “WHO’S GOING TO DO MY TAXES NOW?!”

The leather of Crewel’s gloves groaned in protest as his hands tightened into fists—his nails biting into his palm even through the sturdy material.

“What do we even do?” the old crow lamented, sounding so genuinely crestfallen it was almost unnerving.

Jasper and Badun circled their master’s ankles wearily, eyes bright and lips twitching with nervous whines.

“I think,” Crewel grit out, the note crumpling between his fingers, “that it’s well past time that we have a chat with the Prefect about the importance of personal safety. And of the consequences of running off with strangers.”

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #My Writing #NRC Staff #NRC Staff x Reader #Divus Crewel x Reader #Dire Crowley x Reader #The NRC Staff's Horrible Parenting #Heroes vs. Villains #Crewel x Reader #twisted wonderland OCs #twst ocs #Divus Crewel #Dire Crowley #Heroes vs Villains The NRC Staff Part 1

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regressionschool · 8 days

Text

Maturity Test Part 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Anna, Lilly, and Olaf arrived at the reclassification center, the atmosphere tense with anticipation. The building, sleek and modern, loomed ahead, its polished glass reflecting the bright afternoon sun. The trio stepped inside, the cool air conditioning a stark contrast to the warmth outside. The reception area was quiet, a few others waiting with the same mix of nervousness and hope that hung around them.

They were guided to a private room where the reclassification tests would take place. The room was simple, with a few chairs, a large table, and several machines designed to assess the various levels of maturity, competence, and independence.

Olaf fidgeted nervously, clutching Lilly’s hand for comfort. Anna watched him with concern, noticing how little and anxious he seemed. This was a far cry from the Olaf she remembered from their school days. Beside him, Lilly exuded calm, her presence a constant reassurance for Olaf.

Rebecca entered the room next, her demeanor noticeably different from the last time Anna had seen her. Today, she wasn’t in her usual thick diaper but in pull-ups. She hadn’t worn one in so long, and the idea of showing off her “potty training” skills made her feel like she was on top of the world. Even though she hadn’t sat on a toilet in five years, she still clung to the hope that this was her chance to prove she was ready for a little more maturity. Her eyes lit up when she saw Anna, and she ran over, her pull-up crinkling as she moved.

“Anna!” Rebecca called, throwing her arms around her friend. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

Anna hugged her tightly, a mix of relief and sadness washing over her. Rebecca looked so proud in her pull-up, but Anna knew this reclassification would determine her fate—whether she’d remain in pull-ups or be placed back into diapers.

“You look great, Becky,” Anna said, smiling warmly. “How are you feeling?”

Rebecca grinned, her excitement palpable. “I’m gonna be a big girl again, Anna. I just know it!”

Olaf, on the other hand, was much quieter. His pull-up was already starting to feel damp against his skin. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his thumb creeping towards his mouth before he caught himself.

Lilly, standing nearby, exchanged a knowing glance with Anna. The stakes were high for all of them, and while Rebecca’s enthusiasm was endearing, Anna couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at her. The reclassification tests were unpredictable, and the outcome was never guaranteed.

Soon, the testers arrived, ushering each of them into separate assessment rooms. Anna felt a pang of anxiety as she watched Rebecca and Olaf disappear behind the doors. She and Lilly were led to their own rooms, where they were quickly and efficiently tested on their maturity, decision-making skills, and ability to handle adult responsibilities. The process was routine for them, and both women were confident in the outcome.

After what felt like hours, Anna and Rebecca were finally reunited in the main room, where the results were to be announced. The atmosphere was thick with tension as the testers entered, carrying the documents that would determine their futures.

The head tester, a stern-looking woman with a clipboard, began reading out the results.

“Anna,” she said, looking up briefly before returning her gaze to the clipboard, “remains classified as an Adult.”

Anna let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, relief flooding through her.

“Rebecca,” the tester announced next, her tone neutral, “has been reclassified as a Preschooler.”

Rebecca’s face lit up with a mixture of pride and relief. “I did it!” she whispered excitedly to Anna, practically bouncing in place.

But as they celebrated, the evaluator’s expression turned more serious. “There’s just one issue,” she said, her tone somber. “Rebecca, since you’ve been reclassified as a preschooler, you’ll need to have a caregiver assigned to you. Unfortunately, the regression school nursery is only for toddlers, so if you can’t find a caregiver, you’ll have to stay classified as a toddler.”

Rebecca’s joy faltered, her face falling as the weight of the situation settled in. “But… I don’t have a caregiver,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t want to be a toddler again…”

Anna’s heart ached as she saw the distress in Rebecca’s eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought of her friend being forced back into toddlerhood after all the progress she had made. And in that moment, the decision became clear.

“I’ll be your caregiver, Becky,” Anna said softly, reaching out to take her hand. “You don’t have to go back to being a toddler. I’ll take care of you.”

Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears, but this time they were tears of relief. “Really, Anna?” she asked, her voice wavering. “You’ll be my mommy?”

Anna nodded, squeezing Rebecca’s hand gently. “Yes, Becky. I’ll be your mommy, and I’ll take care of you, just like you deserve.”

Rebecca threw her arms around Anna, hugging her tightly as she buried her face in Anna’s shoulder. “Thank you, Anna,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

As they embraced, Lilly returned with Olaf. Lilly couldn’t contain her excitement as she led Olaf back towards Anna and Rebecca. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous joy, and she was practically glowing with pride as she looked down at Olaf, who was now waddling awkwardly beside her, his thick diaper forcing his legs apart. The word "Toddler" was emblazoned across the front of his diaper, a clear indication of his new classification.

“Oh, Anna, you won’t believe it!” Lilly gushed, her voice brimming with excitement. “Olaf had a little messy accident during his test. It was so unexpected, they had no choice but to regress him further!” She let out a lighthearted laugh, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Isn’t that just adorable? He’s officially a toddler now, and I have to say, he looks so cute in his thick diapers, don’t you think?”

Anna looked at Olaf, her heart sinking as she saw the expression on his face. His eyes were wide and glistening with unshed tears, his bottom lip quivering as he processed Lilly’s words. The weight of the situation seemed to crush down on him all at once, and his thumb, which had been hovering near his mouth, found its way between his lips.

But even the comfort of his thumb wasn’t enough to hold back the flood of emotions that had been building inside him. His eyes welled up, and within moments, the first tear slipped down his cheek, followed by another, and then another. Before anyone could react, Olaf began to sob, his small shoulders shaking with the force of his cries.

“I-I don’t want to be a toddler!” Olaf wailed, his voice muffled around his thumb as he buried his face into Lilly’s side. The tears came faster now, streaming down his cheeks in a torrent of grief and frustration. “I-I’m not a baby… I’m not…”

Anna, feeling her own heart ache at the sight of Olaf’s anguish, stepped closer, her hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder. “Olaf,” she said softly, trying to catch his tear-filled gaze. “It’s okay to be sad. It’s a big change, and it’s okay to feel upset about it.”

But then, something clicked in her mind. She remembered Lilly had done something before the reclassification that she hadn’t paid much attention to at the time.

Earlier that day, when they were getting ready to leave for the reclassification, Anna had seen Lilly give Olaf a suppository. Anna hadn’t thought much of it, assuming it was just something to calm his nerves. But now, as she watched Lilly’s calm demeanor in the face of Olaf’s accident, it all made sense.

Anna’s eyes widened as the realization hit her. Of course. It was why Lilly hadn’t been worried about Olaf making it through the reclassification without an accident. She had planned this all along, ensuring that Olaf would be humiliated and further regressed. The suppository would have ensured that Olaf’s body would betray him, no matter how hard he tried to control it.

She couldn’t stay silent any longer. What Lilly had done wasn’t just manipulative; it was cruel. "Lilly, what the hell were you thinking?" she snapped, her eyes blazing as she glared at her. "That suppository was not to calm Olaf down, was it?"

Lilly paused, looking up at Anna with an expression of feigned innocence. "Anna, what are you talking about? I’m just taking care of Olaf, like any good mommy would."

"Don’t play dumb with me!" Anna shot back, her voice rising. "You knew exactly what you were doing. You set him up to fail! You wanted him to mess himself right at the reclassification, didn’t you? So that he’d be more dependent on you, sure to be reclassified as a toddler."

Olaf, who had been lying quietly, now looked up at Anna with wide, confused eyes. He hadn’t connected the dots, but now, hearing Anna’s words, a look of realization slowly dawned on his face. He turned to Lilly, searching her face for any hint of denial, but found none.

Lilly’s expression hardened, the pretense of innocence slipping away. "And what if I did?" she said coolly, standing up and facing Anna with a defiant tilt of her chin. "Olaf needs someone to take care of him. He’s happier this way, aren’t you, Olaf?"

Olaf didn’t answer, his face a mix of shame and uncertainty. He wanted to protest, to say that he didn’t need this, that he could manage on his own, but the truth was, a part of him was scared. Scared that without Lilly’s constant care, he would be lost. The dependency that had grown between them was undeniable, even if it wasn’t something he had chosen.

Anna’s anger only grew at Lilly’s cold response. "You don’t get to make that decision for him, Lilly. You’ve been manipulating him, controlling him, and now you’re pushing him further and further into regression just so you can have control. It’s not about what’s best for Olaf; it’s about what you want!"

Lilly’s eyes flashed with anger. "You have no idea what it’s like, Anna. He needs me. He can’t take care of himself—"

"But he could try!" Anna interrupted, her voice filled with frustration. "He was doing fine before, and now he’s so dependent on you that he doesn’t even realize when he’s wetting himself. That’s not care, Lilly. That’s control."

Lilly opened her mouth to retort, but Anna didn’t give her the chance. She turned to Olaf, her expression softening as she addressed him. "Olaf, listen to me. You don’t have to do this. You can still make your own choices. You can still try to be independent, to be more than what she’s trying to make you."

Olaf looked between the two women, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt torn, confused, and overwhelmed. The reality of what had happened was sinking in, and he didn’t know how to process it. Part of him wanted to cling to the comfort that Lilly provided, but another part of him was angry—angry at himself for being so easily manipulated, and angry at Lilly for doing this to him.

Lilly’s voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and cold. "Olaf, don’t listen to her. She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know what’s best for you like I do."

Anna shook her head, tears of frustration and anger brimming in her eyes. "Olaf, please. You deserve better than this. You deserve the chance to be more than just… this."

But before Olaf could respond, Lilly turned and marched toward the center’s entrance, pulling Olaf along with her. Anna followed, her heart pounding with a mix of determination and fear.

When they reached the reclassification center, Anna didn’t hesitate. She stormed up to the front desk, demanding to speak to someone in charge. The receptionist, startled by her intensity, quickly made a call, and within minutes, Anna was ushered into an office where a stern-looking official sat, waiting.

Anna didn’t waste any time. She laid out everything she had witnessed, her voice trembling with anger as she described how Lilly had manipulated Olaf, how she had purposely sabotaged him to ensure he would regress further.

The official listened carefully, her expression grave as Anna recounted the details. When Anna finished, there was a long pause, the air thick with tension.

Finally, the official spoke, her voice measured and calm. "This is a serious accusation, Anna. If what you’re saying is true, it goes against everything we stand for in this program. We aim to support individuals based on their needs, not to force them into a classification that isn’t right for them."

Anna nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "Olaf deserves the chance to be more than what Lilly’s trying to make him. He deserves the chance to choose his own path, not to be manipulated into one."

Olaf was led into a small examination room, looking more anxious than ever. Lilly tried to maintain her calm demeanor, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

The officials began their examination of Olaf, asking him a series of questions while conducting some basic tests. It was clear that Olaf was uncomfortable, shifting nervously as he answered, his gaze flickering between the officials and Lilly, who stood nearby, her expression unreadable.

One of the officials, a stern-looking woman with sharp eyes, took a sample from Olaf to test for any foreign substances. Lilly’s face paled slightly as she watched the process, but she kept her mouth shut, not daring to say anything.

Anna, who had been waiting outside the room, was finally called in after what felt like an eternity. She walked in, her heart pounding in her chest, wondering what they had discovered.

The lead official, the stern woman, looked up from the results, her expression grave. "Anna, we’ve completed our tests, and it appears that there were indeed traces of a substance in Olaf’s system—something that would have induced a bowel movement."

Anna felt a mixture of vindication and anger surge through her. She glanced at Olaf, who looked bewildered and on the verge of tears, and then at Lilly, whose composure had finally cracked. There was fear in her eyes now, a fear that she had been caught.

"Lilly," the official continued, turning her gaze to Olaf’s so-called caregiver, "do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Lilly opened her mouth, but no words came out. She seemed to struggle for an excuse, for some way to explain away her actions, but she knew there was nothing she could say that would justify what she had done. Her silence was damning.

Anna took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "This isn’t just about what happened today," she said, addressing the officials. "Lilly has been manipulating Olaf for a long time, keeping him dependent on her, making sure he doesn’t have the chance to grow up and live his life."

The officials exchanged glances, clearly concerned by what they were hearing. The lead official nodded. "We take these kinds of accusations very seriously. We’ll need to conduct a full investigation into Lilly’s actions and her treatment of Olaf."

Olaf, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke up, his voice shaky. "I... I didn’t know. I thought Mommy was just helping me..." He looked at Lilly with wide, tear-filled eyes, confusion and betrayal written all over his face.

Lilly’s eyes softened, and she stepped forward, trying to reach out to him, but the officials quickly intervened, keeping her at a distance.

"Olaf," Anna said gently, stepping closer to him, "you didn’t do anything wrong. We’re going to make sure you’re taken care of, okay? No one’s going to hurt you."

Olaf nodded slowly, but it was clear that he was struggling to process everything that was happening. His world was being turned upside down, and he didn’t know what to think or who to trust.

The lead official turned back to Anna. "We’ll be taking Lilly into custody for further questioning. Olaf will be placed in temporary care while we complete our investigation. Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Anna."

Olaf's eyes widened in panic as the officials began discussing his placement in temporary care. The very idea seemed to terrify him, and he instinctively reached out for Anna, his hands clutching at her arm with a desperate grip.

"Anna, please," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I don’t want to go with strangers. I want to stay with you... and Becky. Please don’t let them take me away."

Anna's heart broke at the fear in his voice. She knew how much Olaf had come to depend on Lilly, as manipulative as she had been, and the thought of being taken away from the only familiar person left in his life was clearly overwhelming for him.

She turned to the lead official, her voice steady but firm. "Olaf doesn’t want to be placed in temporary care. If it’s alright, I would like to take care of him instead. He can stay with me and Becky. I know how to take care of him, and he’ll have someone familiar around."

The official looked at Anna thoughtfully, then back at Olaf, who was still clinging to her. "You’re sure you can handle this, Anna? Taking care of someone in Olaf’s condition is a big responsibility."

Anna nodded, determination shining in her eyes. "I’m sure. I’ve known Olaf for a long time, and I want to make sure he’s in a safe and loving environment. Becky’s at the regression school, and she’d be thrilled to have Olaf stay with us. She’s always wanted a sibling."

The official considered her words carefully before finally nodding. "Alright, Anna. We’ll grant you temporary guardianship of Olaf, provided you meet the necessary requirements. We’ll conduct regular check-ins to ensure his well-being."

A wave of relief washed over Olaf’s face as the official agreed. He squeezed Anna’s hand, his fear slowly subsiding. "Thank you, Anna," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Anna smiled down at him, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. "Of course, Olaf. You’re going to be okay. We’ll get through this together."

The official began preparing the necessary paperwork, explaining the responsibilities and conditions of temporary guardianship. As she handed the documents to Anna, she also retrieved Olaf’s reclassification report.

"Now, Olaf," the official began gently, "I understand you were hoping to be reclassified as a preschooler again. But after reviewing your test results and observing your behavior, we need to have an honest conversation."

Olaf looked up, a flicker of hope still lingering in his eyes. "Yes, I... I tried really hard to stay a preschooler. I didn’t even... I mean, I tried not to have any accidents."

The official’s expression softened as she continued, "You did your best, Olaf, and that’s something to be proud of. But the truth is, even if you had managed to keep your pull-up clean and dry, your overall regression has reached a point where we would have had to reclassify you to the toddler level."

Olaf’s face fell, his hopes crumbling at the official’s words. He stared at the floor, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of his shirt. “So… I’m going to be in diapers again? Full-time?”

The official nodded sympathetically. “Yes, Olaf. You’ll be placed in the toddler category, which means you’ll be wearing diapers full-time and receiving the care and supervision appropriate for that level. I know this might be disappointing, but it’s what’s best for you right now.”

The official finished with the paperwork, handing the finalized documents to Anna. "We’ll keep in touch to monitor Olaf’s progress and ensure he’s adjusting well," she said kindly. "If you have any concerns or need assistance, don’t hesitate to reach out."

Anna nodded, thanking the official for her help. She then guided Olaf out of the room, holding his hand as he waddled toward the car.

#ab/dl diaper #diaper stories #ab/dl stories #regression school #ab/dl girl #ab/dl #diaper bulge

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diloveplastichouseware · 11 months

Text

Improve comfort and accessibility with adult commode chairs and custom restroom supplies

The design and provision of restroom facilities, especially in settings catering to diverse user needs, are essential aspects of facility management. Among the many considerations, ensuring comfort and accessibility for adults with varying mobility challenges is of paramount importance. In this article, we explore the significance of Adult Toilet Chairs and Custom Toilet Supplies in addressing these needs.

The Importance of Adult Toilet Chairs:

Adult Toilet Chairs, often referred to as commode chairs or shower commodes, serve as invaluable aids for individuals with limited mobility, such as the elderly or those with disabilities. These chairs provide several benefits:

1. Mobility Assistance: Adult Toilet Chairs are equipped with wheels and brakes, enabling individuals to move easily within the restroom. This mobility is particularly helpful when transitioning from a bed or wheelchair to the toilet.

2. Height Adjustment: Many models offer height-adjustable features, allowing users to align the chair with the toilet seat or transfer onto the chair without strain or discomfort.

3. Commode Functionality: Adult Toilet Chairs often have a removable pail beneath the seat, which can be used as a bedside commode when bathroom access is challenging. This feature enhances convenience and reduces the risk of accidents.

4. Customization: Custom Toilet Supplies, including seat cushions and backrests, can be tailored to the user's specific needs, providing additional comfort and support during toileting.

5. Hygiene and Safety: Easy-to-clean materials and designs are essential in maintaining hygiene. Moreover, secure and sturdy construction ensures safety during transfers and use.

Custom Toilet Supplies:

Custom Toilet Supplies complement Adult Toilet Chairs by catering to individual needs and preferences. These supplies include:

1. Cushions and Padding: Custom seat cushions and backrests offer enhanced comfort, pressure relief, and support, making toileting more comfortable for users with varying degrees of mobility.

2. Incontinence Products: Customized incontinence products, such as adult diapers and protective pads, are essential for individuals with continence challenges. Proper selection and fit are crucial for effective management.

3. Grab Bars and Support Rails: Installing custom grab bars and support rails near the toilet provides users with additional stability and assistance during transfers and toileting.

4. Height-Adjustable Fixtures: Customizable toilet fixtures, including raised toilet seats or adjustable grab bars, cater to users' specific height and mobility requirements.

5. Accessible Fixtures: Ensuring that toilet fixtures, such as toilet paper dispensers and flush controls, are within easy reach and strategically positioned for users with limited mobility is crucial for accessibility.

Prioritizing Comfort and Accessibility

Incorporating Adult Toilet Chairs and Custom Toilet Supplies into restroom facilities demonstrates a commitment to inclusivity, accessibility, and user comfort. These specialized tools and supplies enhance the quality of life for individuals with mobility challenges, promoting independence and dignity in toileting.

Facility managers, healthcare providers, and caregivers should work together to identify the unique needs of users and select the most suitable Adult Toilet Chairs and Custom Toilet Supplies. By doing so, they contribute to creating environments that are not only functional but also considerate of the diverse needs of the individuals they serve. In prioritizing comfort and accessibility, we foster environments that promote independence, well-being, and inclusivity for all.

#Adult Toilet Chairs #Custom Toilet Supplies

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dansformations · 5 months

Text

"This is life"

Tags: Male tfs, dumbification, IQ loss, fart kink, burp kink.

"Now this Is life" i said to myself while entering to my apartament. Since i gave that potion to my big brother, im living like a man should.

See, my big brother was always too polite, to strict, like an adult, i Guess he took the dad role since my dad leave us, so even when were just us two, it was like living with an stric dad.

"Dont leave the dirty clothes in the floor" "Dont Belch at the table!" "No marihuana!" "Clean the toilet seat, u gross!"

I was so sick of It. So i check and check in the weirdest places of the internet until i found a site that said that rigthfully could change peoples personality. It looked like a scam... But was worth trying. Just 3 days after a package arrived.

"Only put this oil in a drink, put some scent of the person you wanna 'the turned' be like, and then make sure 'the turned' drink It" - said the handmade intructions.

I put some soda in a glass, the oil and... Why not? I take my undies off and dip it in the drink for half of minute, then just left the wet undies in a corner of the room.

I gave it to my brother saying it was an 'Peace offer', he was surprised, and took it with an smile. First sip. All ok. Second sip. Confused face. Third sip...

- It tastes a little bit fu-UUUUURRRP - his talking turned into a big, deep, belch, he got Blushed - oh, excuse m-EEEEERRP AURRRP- You little fuck! What did You put in my drink!?

- Just something... To relax you

He tried to get up from the couch but when he bend, a Big, rumbly and smelly fart came out from his ass, he was looking shock.

- Good one bro! -told Him.

- Haha i know - he said, then he realiced - wait, what? No! That was gro-UUUUUAAARRRRRRRP - He Belched again- that was a combo! - he laughed

- Exactly! Why don't you finish your drink? Full that Tank of combos, big bro

He looked confused for a moment, like trying to remenber something, but at the end he shrugged and drank the rest of his drink, sealing his new personality.

- The first one is coming lil bro - he said with a lower tone, then he Open his mouth and...- UUUUUUUUUARRRRRRP -lifted his leg and- PFFFFFFRRTRTTTTTFFFRT

We both laugh together, which wasnt usual. Since that day things changed, no more scolding, no more laundry or cleaning, deliveries instead of cooking, gym and no showers, weed and beers everytime we want, burping and farting on the table or any other place, even each other faces. I never tough we could get a long this good... And i Guess we couldnt, my new brother is basically a copy of me, thats why we finally get along but... Who cares?

"Now this Is life" i said to myself while entering with wings for lunch to our messy, smelly apartament, the familiar stench says hi to me and i breath it happily.

- Finally broski, i was hungry so had to eat pizza while waiting - he said

- Still have room for the wings?

He lied on his chair, lifted a leg and rip a a lot of farts out, the stench quickly take over the room, and i just laugh while fan away the stench with my hands.

- Now i do - he said with a smile

Man, this is life.

#dumber #fart #male tf story #iq loss #fart kink #transformacion #tfs #alpha man #fart story

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bratzforchris · 7 months

Note

requesting part two of "in sickness and in health"

or something similar where johnnie has POTS bc i have POTS

I'll Look After You

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Summary: In which Johnnie has POTS and you help him out where needed<3

Pairing: Johnnie x gender neutral reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Thank you for the request, Khris! I myself do not have POTS, so please let me know if this is inaccurate in any way :)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

“Baby?” Johnnie asked quietly, poking his head into your shared music room, where you were quietly strumming your guitar.

“Hey baby!” You smiled happily, looking up. “What’s up?”

“Can you, um, help me shower?” your fiancé asked, looking down at his feet as he stood one on top of the other.

To anyone else, it would sound a bit weird, especially because Johnnie was a grown adult, but to you two, it was totally normal. You see, Johnnie had POTS, which made him prone to fainting, especially in warmer areas, like the shower. You really wished that your bathroom and shower was big enough to have a bench or shower chair, but until you were able to move to a bigger house, you had both figured it would be better to be a little embarrassed and safe, rather than Johnnie getting hurt.

“Of course, baby. Come on.” You smiled kindly, standing up and kissing Johnnie’s cheek.

Johnnie trudged towards the bathroom sadly. He absolutely hated showering because it made him feel lightheaded and sick, but he knew it needed to be done. He’d been putting it off for a few days now, and by this point, his hair was beyond greasy, caked with hairspray. Your fiancé turned on the shower before sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, trying to take deep breaths.

“Don't worry, love. I’ll be right here the whole time. Just get in and wash your hair and your body then you can get out. You can shave at the sink.” You said gently.

You slowly helped Johnnie undress, letting the lanky boy hold onto your shoulders so he didn’t get dizzy. You could feel your heart breaking as you heard Johnnie take a shaky breath as he stepped into the shower.

“You okay, babe?” You asked softly.

“Mhm,” Johnnie mumbled as he began to run the loofah over his tattooed body. “Just anxious.”

“That’s okay, buddy. Just take your time and sit down as needed.”

It all happened so quickly. One moment, Johnnie was shampooing his hair and getting ready to get out, and the next, you heard a large bump in the shower. You immediately sprung into action, turning off the water and pulling the shower curtain back.

Johnnie had fainted. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for the boy, but it scared you and him every time. He whimpered, hand immediately going to his head. “My head…” he groaned. “I hit it.”

“Oh bubba,” You cooed softly. “I know, sweetie. Sit up slowly so you don’t get lightheaded.”

Your lover went to do as told until he pulled his hand back from his hair and saw blood. “I’m bleeding!” he said worriedly, tears pooling in his eyes.

“Shhh, you’re okay, hun. Let’s not panic, sweetheart.” You said comfortingly.

You slowly helped Johnnie sit up and began to observe his wound. It was bad, but not so much that he needed to go to the ER. It was just bleeding lots because it was a head wound.

“It’s not too bad, honey. It’ll probably be sore, but you won’t need stitches.” You whispered, kissing his forehead

Johnnie tried to smile at that, but he just felt so terrible. You were a great nurse and wonderful at comforting, which made his heart swell with love for you. You slowly turned on the handheld shower sprayer and began to rinse down Johnnie’s blood that was pooling in the tub, followed by the shampoo and blood out of his hair.

“Just sit there, baby. I’m gonna get a washcloth to use as a compress on your head.” You instructed.

Johnnie barely nodded, leaning up against the walls of the shower. He felt absolutely awful. He shakily put a hand to his chest, feeling the pain in his chest and his heart palpitations. On top of all his other symptoms, he had a bit of a headache and felt rather nauseous. Not to mention the pain from where he fell and hit his head.

You came back with the cool washcloth and began to hold it to Johnnie’s wound, looking down to keep an eye on him. “Still with me, babe?”

Johnnie made a hum of approval, leaning into your touch. “‘M tired.”

“I know, bubba. Your head has stopped bleeding,” You smiled. “Whenever you’re ready we can get you out and into some warm clothes and in bed.”

“I wanna get out.” Johnnie was on the verge of tears, a mixture of pain and the embarrassment of sitting naked in the tub with his finaceé standing over him.

“Okay, lovely. Grab the rail and I’ll help you stand up.” You instructed.

He shakily grabbed the shower rail, trying to take deep breaths. “You-you’ll hold me, right?”

You nodded, grabbing Johnnie’s hand. “Stand up slowly, bubba. Take all the time you need.”

Johnnie stood up quite slowly, but whimpered all the same. “Heart’s beatin’ fast.”

“I know, honey, I know. Take some deep breaths.”

He did as you said, steadying himself against the wall and breathing slowly with his eyes closed. You felt beyond bad for your love. It absolutely killed you to see Johnnie in pain every day because of this condition.

“I’m ready now.” Johnnie whispered.

You slowly helped him step out of the shower and towel off. By the time you had gotten him dried off and into his pajamas, Johnnie was practically asleep against your shoulder.

“Let’s go lay down, buddy. You need a lot of rest.” You whispered in his ear.

“Carry me?” Johnnie mumbled, eyes closed as he laid his head on your shoulder.

Luckily, you and Johnnie didn’t have an immense height difference, and he wasn’t very heavy, so you could carry him short distances.

“Oh, fine,” You fake-huffed, hoisting Johnnie up under his bum and onto your hip. “You big baby.”

Johnnie giggled softly, breathing in your familiar scent. “You love me.”

“I do,” You smiled, laying Johnnie down in bed and tucking him in with a soft kiss. “I’m gonna go grab you some water and a snack, okay? You just lay here and rest.”

Johnnie nodded, snuggling into his pillow. “Mhm.”

By the time you returned to the bedroom with a granola bar and a bottle of water, Johnnie was fast asleep, snuggled under the covers and clutching his stuffed animal to his chest. You figured you’d let it slide for now, knowing he needed the rest. And so, you gave your lover a kiss on the forehead and then snuggled up beside him.

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stardustqueenbooks · 2 years

Text

Charlie Swan x reader- The step-mum

Warnings: verbal abuse/adult language, slight Bella bashing, slight age-gap, pregnancy

Description: Being a step-mother can be hard especially to a teenager and when a baby comes into play it can be so much harder

AN: Set in between new moon and eclipse

You loved Charlie Swan. You had met him when you broke down by the side of the road when heading home from work. It was dark and you were slightly scared when you heard a car pull up behind you, Charlie had been your knight in blue armour riding a broken down police cruiser. You then dated and got married within two years and in that time you had only met his daughter, Isabella, twice, once a year into dating when she came to stay for a couple days and then on your wedding day.

Having only met the girl twice when she moved to forks it was very awkward. Isabella, who preferred to be called Bella, was quiet, shy and standoffish when she first moved in and Charlie wasn’t that much better so you felt like it was up to you to get the pair talking and relaxed. You tried your hardest to make Bella feel at home but everything you did never helped. Bella didn’t like you no matter how much you tried so you just gave up trying and left the girl to her own life and only really got involved when Charlie needed you too. But the biggest problem was that Bella blamed you for everything, if something went wrong with her car she blamed you, if something happened that she didn’t like she blamed you and worst of all when Charlie banned her from seeing Edward Cullen she blamed you.

After Bella had ran away to Italy Charlie had hit the roof, he had gone from panicking, to scared, to anger all within an hour and all you could do was stand there. So when Bella arrived back in forks with Edward Charlie had been angry and banned Bella from seeing the Cullen. There had been a massive argument between Charlie and Bella which you had tried to calm down but it ended with Bella calling you a bitch and running to her room.

It had all calmed down slightly since then and you had talked to Charlie about letting Bella see Edward somehow but he was not budging from his ban which was very understandable but it didn’t help your relationship with the girl. But you were trying to get Bella to at least be civil with you and that’s what led you to today.

Charlie was currently at work and it was just you and Bella in the house and you had planned to cook her tea and talk while you ate in hope that you could build some kind of relationship with her because you had some big news for the pair of Swans.

You had been feeling off so you had spoken to some friends who had suggested you take a pregnancy test which you did and it turned out to be positive. After going to the doctors to confirm the pregnancy you still hadn’t told Charlie as you wanted it to be special for him but you knew that it couldn’t be special while the house felt like a war zone.

You cooked Bella’s favourite meal and once it was ready you shouted up to her room and then started to plate up the food. You placed the food on the table and waiting for a couple of minutes before shouting up the stairs again but Bella never came down. You waited for about an hour, eating your own meal before it became cold with the full plate and empty chair in front of you. Once you had finished you put the left overs into tubs that then went into the fridge and then went to sit on the couch and watch some tv waiting for Charlie to come home. You didn’t have to wait long for Charlie and once he had walked through the door he ate and then you went to bed.

(The next morning)

The sun had just risen when you were awoken by your stomach turning, you jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom and you only just made it to the toilet in time. The fast movement must have woken Charlie up because he was fast to follow behind you to hold back your hair and softly rub your back. “Honey, you ok?” He asked gently when you had finely finished, he helped you sit up and grabbed a glass to fill with water. You nodded slowly, taking the water and drinking some before you answered, “yeah, I’m fine, it’s normal at this point of the pregnancy.” You didn’t even realise what you had said before you heard the clang of your toothbrush against the sink, Charlie had picked it up to give to you but dropped it in shock at what you had said.

“Pregnancy?” Charlie asked quietly staring wide eyed at you, you opened your mouth to say something when a screech caught you off guard, “what?” Bella must have heard the commotion and exited her room to hear the word Charlie had said, “your pregnant?” She asked screaming loud, her face turned red with the anger that ran through her veins. “You can’t be pregnant!” She shouted staring at you from the door of the bathroom. Charlie still hadn’t moved or spoke since Bella made an appearance so you stood up and smiled slightly at your step-daughter before speaking softly to the both of them, “I wasn’t really that sure how to tell you both but I found out I’m pregnant on Monday, I’m about eight weeks a long,” you smiled, stepping forward towards Charlie who’s eyes had began to well up with what you hoped was happy tears, “Charlie, are your alright with…” you were cut off by your husbands lips meeting yours.

Charlie pulled away holding your waist softly, he had a massive smile on his face and a couple of tears running down his cheeks, “this is amazing!” He said hugging you close before he turned towards his daughter who was stewing with anger in the doorway, “isn’t this great Bella? Your gonna be a big sister.” Bella’s jaw dropped, there was silence in the house before Bella began shouting at the top of her voice, “Great! Great! This is not great!” You sighed slightly leaning into Charlie’s side when he pulled you closer to him, “a baby will ruin everything, you shouldn’t even be married to the gold digger,” she pointed at the with a shaking finger, “and now your having a baby with her.”

You knew that she could go further but the Swan was cut off by her father who shouted loudly, “don’t speak to her like that, Bella!” Charlie kept you in his arms looking at his daughter who had become quiet, “this is an amazing thing to happen to us and you need to except that,” Charlie looked at you with loving eyes and then looked back at his daughter, “(y/n) is my wife and you need to speak to her with respect, you’re already on thin ice with the whole running to Italy thing. Do not make that ice thinner!”

Bella huffed at her fathers words and stormed to her room, you heard her door slam shut and it shook the house slightly. Charlie sighed and turned to you with his arms wrapped around you, he smiled and hugged you tighter. “I can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby” he breathed placing a kiss on your head causing you to smile. You didn’t care if Bella didn’t like you because you had Charlie and now a baby and that’s everything you needed.

#x reader #reader insert #charlie swan x reader #twilight x reader #Bella swan x reader #Charlie swan #Charlie swan x wife reader #x wife reader #Charlie swan x younger reader

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katsukiizmoon · 1 year

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Desc: Talkin’ bout Katsuki while you’re pregnant & when you have a daughter

No cause now all I can think about is katsuki with a daughter :( everyone Shutup I’m usually more immune to baby fever but oh god…. >:( katsuki needs to give me a baby girl

I can go into details and I will

Buys a giant wardrobe for her before she’s even born. Has custom made dynamight baby clothes made just for her.

Reads every parenting book known to man and has a binder of development notes!! This man has written down everything from how to cure baby gas to the best learning tools and methods for little ones

Makes freezer prep meals for when you’re post-partum and struggling ! Soup cubes, one pan sheet meals, instant pot dinners, the works. He makes frozen mandu (Korean dumplings) for an easy snack.

SLATHERS you in Shea butter and bio oil throughout your pregnancy, giving you rubs up and down all the time

Begins impulse buying childrens books and toys any time he steps into a store

Your home now has an entire room dedicated to the items he had either BUILT or BOUGHT for your child. Shelves are secured to the wall, filled with every book and pack of flash cards he’s purchased

Lays her down on his chest for quick naps with dragon tales on, humming to soothe her to avoid hics and sniffs from his beloved baby

Calls her “angel” for the longest time but here’s a list of other nicknames he uses: “squirt” , “shithead” , “princess” , “little spark”

Has the baby’s footprints stamped on thick cardstock for every two months she grows, until she hits a year. At a year he begins doing it every 6 months.

Starts teaching her to bake early on, all their favorite treats. They sit afterwards and eat to their hearts content until she inevitably knocks out on his chest watching Disney movies

Let’s her paint his nails as soon as she’s old enough. When she hits an age where it’s appropriate, they begin getting matching pedicures with you every month

Also post partum he spends time fixing you warm baths to soak in and love yourself in, while he holds the little one and makes dinner

Also also when you’re pregnant he literally has a brand new toilet installed to help you so you won’t need a peri bottle as much when you go to the bathroom :(((

Bathroom? Stocked with everything you can imagine. Tiny fridge for your padsicles? Check. Adult diapers? Check. Stool softener? Check. Baby wipes? Check! Anything you need, is stocked to the brim

Makes it mandatory that for the first 7 days of your little one’s life, only you and him will be around the baby. No visitors pressuring you, none of that. He plans the entire week in advance and tries to account for how tired you’ll be. The first thing he tells you to do when you get home is to get some sleep, and you do.

Calls his mom for help when you’re both a little too stressed and has her watch the baby in the play room so the two of you can have an hour nap

Takes you out to different attractions every week and/or has a “mommy day” planned each week to help lessen the chance of post partum depression

I just truly think he’d worship the ground yoj walked on and pave the way for her. He’d tell her how much he loves her every day. I bet he even puts a mild lavender lotion on her before she sleeps to help her rest and relax.

When she’s a newborn and going through the phase of refusing sleep, he gets you in bed and rocks her in the rocking chair until she’s asleep. He also demands the baby SHARE a room with you until she gets to at least 7-8 months. Baby cameras everywhere. Everything is baby proof. If you think it isn’t, it is.

When I die, The first thing I’m doing is having katsuki knock me up so we can live a happy life with a little one.

#bakugou #katsukibakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo headcanons #bakugo headcanon #mha x reader #bakugo x yn #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugou x reader #star anise #strawberry cake

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machetegirl109 · 1 year

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Synopsis: After spending the whole Bible study daydreaming of Abby, she finally makes your fantasies come true. *inspiration: vacation bible school by ayesha erotica*

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, F/F, modern!AU, suggestive and offensive language, religion, abby&reader are 18, smut, angst, switch!abby&reader, dom!abby, sub!reader, thigh riding, fingering(r&a!receiving), oral(a!receiving), no aftercare, mean!abby x reader

important info about my stories here

©machetegirl109 (credits to VBS by ayesha erotica that inspired me to write this) DO NOT copy/steal my work OR post it on any platforms

Word Count: 2.6k+

Oneshot: Vacation Bible School

❝︎and like every other shitty love story

you came and went❞︎

Church camp happens every year during the summer. It lasts for a week; during this time, you live together in cabins, explore the outdoors, and dine in community, all while learning about religion.

You’ve been taking part in attending ever since you were a little kid. The campgrounds are filled with kids, teens, and young adults. The VBS director would be supervising the assisting staff that consisted of other members of the Christian church, where they were divided into group leaders, an audio/video coordinator, music director, Bible story tellers, game leaders, craft supervisors, and kitchen staff.

This year would be the last summer camp trip for you and the other 18 year-olds before you all start college.

Every year you’d be eager for the summertime, wanting nothing more than to arrive at the huge campsite with lots of green space, bushes and trees, picnic tables and a bonfire. Paths that led to the big main cabin where indoor activities and supper were held, another that led to multiple smaller cabins scattered around a secluded area with some portable wooden toilets by the end of the trail and finally a path that led to the forest where a beautiful river was at as well as a hiking trail.

Although you did enjoy being surrounded by the calming nature and your fellow church peers, what made you anxiously wait for the one week vacation every year was her. Abby Anderson. You two met years ago when you were kids, having to spend the days around each other as you two learned about Jesus and his rules. You and the blonde girl quickly became friends; however you never spoke to each other outside the camping grounds. In day-to-day life, you would only admire her from a distance. Whether it was on the Sunday evening services, or at the school; you paid attention to Abby’s movement as she kneeled to pray, or when she talked to those around her.

Something about her made your hands shake with nervousness, your heart skipped beats just by the thought of her so, so pretty eyes and her strong arms—

“What do you say, miss Y/N?” The pastor interrupts your thoughts and you move your eyes from Abby who’s sitting in front of you to his direction.

“I’m sorry, pastor. What was the question again?”

“What is the message in Ephesians 5:3?” He asks again and your peers, who are seated in a chair circle as the pastor stands in the middle, turn their heads towards you as they all wait for an answer.

“Uh, I… I don’t know…I’m sorry.” You shamefully look at your hands down on lap.

“That is okay, Y/N. We are all here to learn, isn't that right kids?” They all move their heads up and down, agreeing with the pastor. “Can anyone tell me what is the message in Ephesians 5:3?”

“I can.” One of the students complied.

“Yes, Abigail. Go ahead.” As soon as he calls out her name, your head shots up and you’re looking at the girl in front of you again. She clears her throat and before she begins to speak, her eyes meet yours.

“But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be onced named among you, as becometh saints;” Abby concludes, her blue eyes never leaving yours. Soon, the priest thanks her for the answer, proceeding with his class and the blonde gives you a small smile. She manspreads on her chair and you feel the blood pump faster into your veins as your body grows hot.

Abby is wearing a white tank top that exposes her strong muscles, black skinny jeans with a heavy-looking belt as well as a pair of black chuck taylor’s. You can’t help but wonder how she would look on top of you, with her blonde hair forming a curtain around your head and her big hands roaming through your body.

After spending the rest of the Bible study distracted staring at the pretty blonde across from you, the class comes to an end. “Alright,kids, that will be all for today. Go ahead and enjoy your last day here and make sure to be ready to attend the bonfire tonight!” The priest leaves the open room located inside the main cabin and soon the students follow behind. Each leaving at their own pace as they conversate with their friends. You look around you and notice Abby is still seated in her chair, like you. She smirks before standing up, making her way to you.

“You seemed a bit distracted. Anything interesting in your mind?” Abby reaches her hand out for you to hold as you leave your chair.

“Oh, nothing, it’s stupid. “ You smile shyly and hold onto her, who soon drops your hand after helping you up. She hums in response as she licks her lips and points her head towards the door, hinting you to follow her as she begins to walk.

“Well, now I need to know what stupid thing you were possibly thinking about while you stared at me the whole study.” You hide your face in your palms, cringing at how you shamelessly looked at her during the class.

“Sorry…” You muffle through your hands before dropping them to your sides again. “I didn’t mean to stare.” Abby lets out a small laugh at your reaction, loving the way you get so shy around her. You two keep walking until you reach the path that led to the area where many small cabins were scattered around.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” She quickly scans the area around, checking to see if anyone can see or hear the two of you. “I think I already know what you were thinking about, though.” Her eyes drop to your plump lips and your throat goes dry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play dumb and Abby chuckles.

“Hm. I think we were both thinking about the same stupid things.” She raises her hand to your cheek, lightly massaging the pad of her thumb onto your soft skin and then pushing it down to your bottom lip. You feel as if your heart dropped to your core as heat and pulse grows inside your panties. Her hand teasingly grips your neck before she drops it and takes one of your hands into hers, guiding two walk towards the portable wood toilets by the end of the trail.

She looks around once again, checking for people and opens the door as she rushly gets in, pulling you with her and shutting the door closed. Your back presses into the wood as one of her hands pushes you against the wall by the neck. Abby’s blue eyes turned a shade darker, desired in them as she placed her knee between your legs, earning a small moan from you.

“You’ve been watching me the whole week,” She says as her free hand creeps under the hem of your shirt, fingers lightly tingling the skin of your stomach. “But I’ve been watching you too.” She palms your left breast harshly, flicking her calloused finger on your nipple and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second. “You know the expression you make when you stare at me?”

You stay silent and her grip around your neck tightens.

“When I ask something, you answer.” Abby says softly and removes her hand from your chest, sliding it down to the side of your hips, carving her short nails into your skin as she moves you to grind against her hard thigh; making you bite your lips as you feel your clothed cunt rub deliciously against the material of her jeans. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“I-I don’t know, Abby…”

“You stare at me with this really pathetic expression on your face,” The lights inside the small compartment die down suddenly before turning back on – And as you look at Abby again, a shit-eating grin appear on her pretty lips.

“The expression of someone who just really wants me to fuck them stupid.” You snake your arms around her neck and she lets go of yours, now hugging your waist as she guides your movements. “Do you want me to fuck you stupid?” Abby whispers in your ear with a rough voice.

“Yes-Yes, Abby. Ple-please.” You ask as you hide your face onto her neck, her pinewood scent filling your nostrils and you moan into her skin. Your hot breath hits against her neck and Abby feels your arousal mark a spot on her pants. A soft blush runs over her soft freckled face and her boxers start to feel heavy by her own wetness.

“Please what, angel?”

“Ple-please fuck me, Abby.” You remove your head from its previous position and forcefully grabs the back of her hair, pulling her face towards yours as your lips smack together. Abby bites and pulls onto your bottom lip and soon her tongue sneaks into your mouth, making the kiss become more heated and sloppy. She hugs your waist tighter. “I want you,” You say in between the kisses. “Jus-just fuck me already, ple-please.”

Abby lets out a moan by hearing your pleas and holds your hips still as she lower her lips to your neck. She nibbles and licks at your skin and you let out heavy breaths and pleasure filled moans. She moves one of her hands to your exposed thigh due your skirt riding up, and she slowly slides it closer and closer to your heat as she caresses your hot skin. Soon enough she cups your pussy through your dripping wet panties, the feeling of her warm hand sends a wave of electricity through your body and you moan her name out.

“I've been wanting to do this all week,” Abby confesses. She slowly drags your panties to the side and runs two fingers up your slick, collecting the liquid of your excitement. “Fuck… You’re so fucking wet for me. So ready for me, baby.” She gives you a quick and soft peck on the lips and suddenly thrusts her ring and middle finger inside your weeping cunt.

“Ah ah ah Abby!” You moan as you feel her fingers filling you. Abby begins to move her fingers in-and-out of you, starting off slow and soon she picks up the pace, pumping them fast and with precision inside you. You rock your hips, following her fingers' pace, causing your clit to deliciously and harshly rub against the palm of her hand. “Fuck Abby,,, you're–ahh fucking me so good…”

Abby lets out a quiet laugh and leans in for another messy kiss, saliva dripping off of both your chins as you make out. She soon fingers into you deeper than before, the tip of her fingers meeting that spongy spot inside you. She presses onto it and you rub your clit harder into her palm. You break the kiss, lips swollen for the biting and sucking.

“I'm gon-gonna cum,”

“I'm here, angel. Cum for me, baby.” Soon something inside you snaps and you feel your body shake as a pleasure washes over you.

“Such a good fucking girl, making a mess all over my hand.” Abby helps you ride out your high, her hand and leg drenched from you as she carefully removes her fingers from your sensitive cunt, letting out a hiccup once you feel empty again. You attempt to catch your breath, chest rising up and down rapidly as you both look at eachother. You hold her hand towards your mouth, cleaning her sticky fingers from your orgasm and she opens a small smile.

“You're so hot,” Abby says giving you one more kiss before removing her leg from in between yours.”So fuckin’ dirty for me.” You kiss her back, pulling at her bottom lip and asking for tongue passage which she happily obliged to. Pushing Abby against the wall, your hands fall to her hips, undoing her white studded belt and letting it fall to the ground. “You're gonna make me feel good, Angel?” She smirks upon seeing a naughty look on your face and you nod.

“Yeah, Abby, I'll make you feel so good…” You kiss her lips and neck one last time before you move towards her breasts and stomach. When you reach her crotch, you shamelessly rub your face against it, causing her to gasp and moan as she forces you onto the floor by your shoulders.

Abby helps you unbutton her pants and you bring them down along with her boxers as you kneel in front of her, the smell of her pussy makes your mouth water. She frees one of her ankles from the clothes, propping her leg over your shoulder and you snake your arm around her tight to keep her secure. She looks down at you, looking like a pretty and desperate little slut just for her. One of her hands goes to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to her glistening lips. You lay your tongue out and you slowly lick her slick bottom to top, reaching her throbbing bud and giving it a harsh suck.

“Uhmm, fuck,” She moans upon the contact, pushing her hips closer to you mouth. “Yeah, just like that, baby.” You finally bury your tongue into her cunt, exploring her as she lets out a string of breathless moans. Abby begins to grind against your face, your soft muscle lapping on her mouthwatering pussy and your nose softly and deliciously brushing against her clit. “Look at me,” She pats your head and you bring your eyes up to her but never stopping fucking your tongue into her. “Lookin’ so beautiful on your knees for me, ahh– s-so so fucking perfect,”

Abby soon feels the tension that sits on the bottom of her stomach is about to explode. Her moves become more messy and rapid as she chases your face. The leg that is up your shoulder starts to shake, the trembling of her body making her to hold onto your free shoulder for support. You notice Abby will soon break and change the focus of your thrust to her needy button, lick and circling your tongue on it and adding two fingers into her.

“D-don't stop, fuckfuckfuc–” Her hips stutter as you scissor your fingers into her, never stopping giving attention to her clit. You feel her pussy gushing around you and she soon releases her juices, making a mess on your hand and face. Abby breaks eye contact as she presses the back of her head onto the wooden wall. She closes her eyes and furrows her brows while coming down from her orgasm. You distance your mouth from her now sensitive clit and gently remove your fingers from her. She drops her leg off of your shoulder and you, still on your knees, move to help her fix her pants and belt.

“No, it’s okay,” Abby moves away from your touch, making you slowly stand back on your feet. “I can do it.” She pushes her black jeans back up and grabs her belt off the floor, quickly wrapping them around the waistband of her jeans. You quietly observe her, hopeful thoughts run around your head, thoughts about you and Abby becoming closer after today – The last day of camp. “So, uhh,” She nervously runs her hand through her blonde strands as her face displays a shameful and regretful expression.

“We should get going, th-the last bonfire will start soon…” You feel as if the ground disappeared, your heart squeezes inside your chest and tears form in your eyes. “Uhm… I'll see you around, yeah?” She quickly exits, leaving you alone in the compartment. You look down at your knees, red and swollen from all the kneeling, and then you look around the small porta wooden potty, your hand palms your face as you take in what just happened. Regret fills you for what you and Abby just did – In a damn porta potty, at church camp nonetheless – and at how easy you gave yourself to her, only to be tossed away just as easily.

ೃ⁀➷ thank you for reading! feel free to comment your thoughts, reblog, leave a heart and follow me˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

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#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby x y/n #abby anderson smut #abby tlou smut #vacation bible school abby anderson #©machetegirl109

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daydreamtofiction · 3 months

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Thou Shalt Not Covet // 14: Rebirth

Contents | Part 13 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) Ellis is beginning to learn that what is meant for her won't pass her by.

Word Count: 6.4K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, adult and sexual themes. Descriptions of periods/menstruation, financial struggles and money talk, discussions of death, grief & loss. Readers must be 18+

Soleil's eyes were the deepest blue, like two shiny, round gems of Lapis Lazuli. You found yourself staring at them in awe as you flicked through photos of her on your computer; even the clumsy editing and dull colour grading unable to diminish their shine.

Still, Mara was right, the pictures were bad. So bad you couldn't fix them. You huffed and leaned back in the desk chair, staring up at the ceiling of your office, the weird piece of dangling plaster in the corner that hadn't moved the whole time you'd worked there. You hadn't been able to focus in days, couldn't keep still; your mind and body overwrought with a sense of uneasiness that left you with bitten nails and a pain between your shoulder blades.

The chair almost tipped back. You jerked forward and caught yourself before you fell, looking around the room in embarrassment despite there being no one there. You cleared your throat and went back to work, sipping on lukewarm coffee as you typed out a disgruntled email.

There was an ache in your lower back as you sat up straight, a heaviness in your pelvis that made you squirm in search of comfort. You ignored it at first, the pain nothing more than a niggle. But after a few minutes you paused, wondering if it could be something more.

You grabbed your bag and left the office, making your way down the corridor and into the women's bathroom. You locked yourself in a cubicle and hastily unbuttoned your trousers, relief pouring out of you in a heavy sigh when you saw blood in your underwear.

"Oh, thank god," you whispered to yourself as you sat on the toilet, head falling into your hands.

You'd only been three days late. But those three days felt like an eternity. Waiting for something, anything; a cramp or the slightest twinge, for a spot to appear on your chin, for your breasts to hurt when you squeezed them. You'd driven yourself mad, checking the foil packets of your pills for one you might have forgotten to take, scrolling back through your period app to work out when you would have ovulated. It would be just your luck - your punishment - the consequences of your sacrilege.

"Thank god, thank god, thank god," you muttered as you rummaged through your bag for a tampon, instead finding a single pantyliner and a packet of paracetamol.

You huffed and put on the liner, buttoning up your trousers and stepping out of the cubicle. You walked over to the sinks where the free tampons usually sat, breathing out a laugh in disbelief when you found the large basket completely empty.

Dawn was sat behind the reception desk, the empty foyer echoing with the sound of her nails clacking against the computer keyboard. You rubbed your washed hands on the sides of your trousers as you walked over to her.

"You alright, hun?" she asked, glancing up at you briefly.

"There's no tampons in the toilets," you replied quietly.

"Oh yeah, there was a problem with the supplier, something to do with that time I ordered a million by mistake. Delivery won't be here 'til next week I don't think."

You closed your eyes and sighed. "Okay, I'm going to be out of office for about twenty minutes."

"Okay love. Get yourself some dark chocolate too; good for cramps."

You rolled your eyes and laughed. "Thanks."

The country was five days into a heatwave. The thick, sticky air so close and suffocating you practically had to wade through it as you walked down the street. You hated it; how it made your clothes feel wrong on your body, made your eyes itch and your hair stick to your skin. You would walk past people sitting in pub gardens, their faces glowing as they laughed and drank together, and wonder if the sun somehow felt different to other people. If, to them, its smothering heat was more like a warm kiss.

There was a Boots a few streets over from work. You walked there quickly, stepping inside the air-conditioned shop and sighing as the cool, refreshing air soothed your burning skin. You dawdled down the aisles, basking in the relief from the sun, looking at body washes you didn't need and makeup you already had at home. When you got to your aisle, there was a young woman already there. She was looking at pregnancy tests, a different brand in each hand as she read the boxes carefully. You caught each other's gaze for a moment as you picked up your tampons, exchanging polite smiles, neither knowing whether to be happy or sorry for the other.

You stood in the queue as a single cashier worked behind the tills. You didn't mind waiting, much preferring to look at the summer weather through a window than be stuck outside in it. There was a man standing over the road that caught your eye; a smart navy blue suit, shirt, tie and full dress shoes. How was he not melting? You watched as he hovered outside the building, straightening a tall signpost that had tilted slightly to one side.

The queue shifted forward. You took a step closer and looked back out, taking more notice of the building behind him. It was three stories, victorian, ivy climbing over weathered brick and stone. The small front garden was plush and green, with flowers and a wooden bench beneath the front window, a path leading up to the pale blue front door where three separate letter boxes sat beside it. It was flats.

"Who's next?" the cashier called out.

You walked up to her, barely able to keep your eyes off the suited man as he took a leather binder from his car and walked back towards the signpost in the front garden.

"Do you need a bag?" the cashier asked.

"Er no, no it's okay. Thank you."

She handed you your receipt and you took the box, walking out of the shop and making your way across the road.

You stepped up onto the kerb and wandered closer to the building, gazing up at it, trying to figure out which floor held the vacant flat.

"Hi, are you here for the viewing?" asked the man as he approached you.

You turned to him in a slight daze, lips parted slightly before letting out a simple "Yes."

It was like a compulsion. First Father Benedict, now him. Had you not learned your lesson?

"Oh okay great," he said, mopping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. "Sorry, my colleague called in sick this morning so I'm looking after her properties for the day. Haven't got any of her appointment info. I'm Aaron."

He reached out to shake your hand, his eyes falling on the box of tampons you were holding. You looked down at them, then back up to him, pressing your lips into an awkward smile.

"Right, well," he said, clearing his throat. "Shall we?"

You followed him up the path and waited as he unlocked the door. He stepped aside to let you walk in first, closing it behind you.

"We'll be viewing 336C, which is the top floor," he said, pointing up the stairs.

You looked around the entry hall, at the pretty tiled floor and cork board on the wall pinned with friendly messages and posters, a cute frog-shaped doormat outside 336A. He started up the stairs and you followed, taking in every detail as he continued to speak.

"So the property is comprised of three flats. One on each floor. It's a converted house so it's had quite a bit of refurb done to alter the layout." He paused on the middle landing to catch his breath and mop his brow again before continuing, flicking through the notes in his folder as he went. "The owners say the neighbours are lovely, they take really good care of the place, as you can see. Area's also great; you've got the high street, bus and train station nearby, low crime, great schools - if that's something you're concerned about."

You reached the top floor landing, still holding the box of tampons as he unlocked the door to the flat and gestured for you to follow.

"So it's listed as a one bed, one bath," he continued as he wandered into the flat. "But my colleague's written here that there's another room that could be used as a second bedroom if needed. It's just quite small so it's currently being utilised as an office. If you come this way you can see we enter straight into the living space..."

He was still talking, but you could barely hear him anymore; your mind slipping into a state of awe as you laid eyes on the place for the first time. Your lips parted slightly as you drew in a soft gasp at the sight of a large stained glass window flooding the living area with shafts of iridescent light. It made you think of the church, of Father Benedict, but most of all, it made you think of serenity, of joy and of home.

You walked over to it, running your fingers over the lead ridges separating the pieces of coloured glass, how they swirled into flowers and hearts and ribbons, soaking in the sun's rays and turning them the most stunning shades of greens, pinks and gold.

"It's a really lovely property, very unique," said Aaron. "Open but still cozy, lots of natural light. If you come through here I'll show you the kitchen."

You turned around as he opened a door on the other side of the room, following him into a small kitchen and listening as he reeled off information from his folder. He took you through to a small alcove at the back of the flat, the bedrooms and bathroom neatly tucked away inside, letting you wander around as he spoke.

"You've not said a lot," he laughed nervously as you walked back into the living area.

"Sorry, I'm just... I wasn't expecting to like it this much."

"Oh, well that's good to hear. It is a really nice place. Would it just be you living here or is there a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Kids? Flatmates?"

"It would just be me."

He nodded. "I think it's the perfect size for one. Can just see you now, sitting by that window reading a book, coffee in hand."

You smiled, pausing for a moment and swallowing hard. "C-can you just remind me how much it's going for... per month?"

"Oh, I'm sorry it's er- This one isn't a rental. It's for sale."

Your heart shattered, falling to pieces in your chest. You licked your lips, keeping your face straight. "Right, sorry, I don't know why I said that. I've been looking at rentals as well, must have got mixed up."

"That's alright." He smiled and flicked a page in his folder. "This is listed for... £175,000."

And just like that, the pieces in your chest turned to dust.

"Okay, great, thank you," you said. "Well, I'll erm, I go away and y'know, speak to my... people and... yeah."

He nodded and took a business card from his pocket, handing it to you with a smile. You placed it on the box of tampons, holding it there with your thumb as he began to walk you out. You turned back, taking one last look at the place before the door closed, a strange feeling of homesickness coming over you.

"Can I just ask how much mortgage payments would be?" you asked as you followed him down the stairs.

"Well I'm sure your broker will know better than I would," he replied. "But usually if you put up a 10% deposit, let's say 25 years, you're looking at something quite reasonable. Depends how good your mortgage is."

"10%... So... £17,500...?"

"Yep."

"Right, okay, easy enough."

"I can't tell if you're joking or not," he laughed.

"Everyone says that."

You couldn't stop thinking about the flat. Every day after work, you would walk past it, just to check it hadn't been sold yet, as though there was any way you would ever be able to buy it. You would daydream about sitting at the window, just like Aaron said, book in hand, watching rain patter against the multicoloured glass. You furnished the place in your head, chose paints and tiles and cushions, imagined people coming over and saying 'wow, Ellis, you're so lucky to have such a beautiful home'.

But you weren't the lottery-winning type. Weren't the kind of person to come up with an idea that made millions, or meet someone so rich that £17.5K would be like lending someone a fiver. It was unattainable. A dream. Another reminder that you were so far behind where you thought you would be by now.

A car horn beeped, then beeped again a few moments later. You checked your reflection in the mirror and opened the front door.

"Mum, Mara's here, I'm going," you shouted.

"Okay, love," she called back from upstairs.

You ran down the path, opening the passenger door of Mara's big, pristinely white car and climbing inside. She hated the heat too, the air-con blasting so strong it raised the hairs on your arms.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi," she replied, eyes hidden behind a large pair of sunglasses. "Seatbelt."

"Yes, yes, I know."

She waited until you'd strapped yourself in before pulling away, the car engine so smooth and quiet you could barely hear it.

You glanced over your shoulder into the back. "No baby?"

"No, funnily enough I am allowed to leave the house without her," she replied sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes and looked out the passenger window. "I take it you're still pissed off with me for convincing you to come today?"

"Yep."

You laughed halfheartedly.

She looked over at you for a moment, then back to the road. "What's up with you?"

You sighed, hesitating to speak.

"Tell me," she insisted.

"I just..." You took a deep breath. "I'm losing hope that I'm ever going to get on my feet again."

She pulled into traffic, taking extra care to look around before speeding up. "What do you mean? It's only been, what, like a month?"

"Yeah I know. Just feels hopeless though. Like, I found a place. The perfect place. Beautiful, safe, quiet, walking distance from work. Only to find out it's for sale, not to let."

"Well that doesn't make it hopeless. Nathan and I have a really good broker, I can ask him to do the numbers for you, shop around and see if anywhere would offer you a mortgage-"

"Unless you can find a way of pulling £17,500 out of my arse, there's honestly no point."

"Is that the deposit?"

"Mhm."

She paused before huffing to herself. "This fucking economy. Ridiculous."

"It's fine. I went and viewed another flat yesterday which is to let."

"Oh, well see, there you go."

"Mm. It's right round the corner from where that girl got murdered last year, which is nice. The hallway smelled like piss and weed and it was so small I could cook my dinner, take a shit and watch TV all at the same time. But beggars can't be choosers, so..."

She stifled a laugh, trying to hide it with a cough. "You're not actually going to take it, are you?"

"I don't know. I can't get that other place out of my head, but I can't stay with mum forever. It just made me feel so shit how out of reach it is for me. Like my future is just so bleak and..."

You felt yourself getting choked up, the lump in your throat catching you by surprise. You never cried, especially not in front of your sister. You rubbed your mouth to disguise your trembling lip, clearing your throat and turning away from her.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, adjusting her sunglasses as she drove. "What's meant for you won't pass you by," she said.

You remained quiet for a while, inhaling through your nose, filling your lungs to the brim and letting it flow out again slowly.

"Oh, I looked at Soleil's photos for you," you said, changing the subject.

"And? I'm right aren't I, they look like shit."

"Yeah they're fucking awful."

"I told you. I'm fuming, Ellis. I danced around like a twat in that studio just to get her to smile for the camera."

You laughed. "I've sent an email to the head office to get you another session for free."

"Oh... Thank you," she said with a grateful surprise. "Can I request you edit them? I don't trust anyone else."

You smiled to yourself but didn't dare let her see. "Yeah, I'll make sure they come to me."

You pulled up into the church carpark, climbing out into the sickly heat with a synchronised groan. Mara walked around the car to meet you, fixing the straps of her maxi dress and hoisting her bag on her shoulder.

"I can't believe I agreed to this," she mumbled.

"It's fine, I've been before, they're not that bad," you replied, beginning the walk towards the parish pub.

"Not that bad? I couldn't think of anything worse than doing circle time with a bunch of miserable people moaning about their problems."

"You're so compassionate, Mara."

She growled, fixing the strap of her dress again. "I'm telling you now, I'm not speaking at this thing. I'll introduce myself and that's it. And if anyone mistakes me for your mother I will walk out."

You made it to the pub, walking inside to find it bustling with regulars, familiar faces you'd come to know from church.

"My god," said Mara, leaning in to talk quietly. "It's a Tuesday afternoon, why aren't people at work?"

"We're not at work either..."

She pushed her sunglasses onto her head. "Fair point."

You gestured towards the back. She walked through a small group of people near the bar, the crowd parting effortless in her presence. You'd always found her aura fascinating; how commanding yet charming, terrifying yet charismatic she could be. People always said you looked alike, how similar you were in some ways, and you couldn't help but wonder if Mara was who you could have been if you hadn't spent so much of your life scared to be noticed.

She stopped at the door to the back room, reading the sign and turning to you. "Do we knock?"

"No, just go in," you replied.

She opened the door and stepped inside. The circle of chairs was almost full, their eyes all glancing up at you in unison. You walked in behind her, your gaze immediately falling on Father Benedict, the corners of your mouth pulling into an involuntary smile.

"Sorry we're late," said Mara. "We can leave if we're interrupting."

"Not at all," he replied cheerily, standing up to greet you.

"Nice try," you muttered.

She elbowed you in the side before smiling at him kindly. He shook her hand and directed her to a seat. Then he turned to you, taking your hand in his and shaking it like a perfect gentleman.

"Ellis," he said, eyes creasing at the corners.

"Father," you replied, stifling a smirk.

"I believe many of you know Ellis already," he said, turning to the group. "And this is her sister Mara."

You sat next to each other on the far side of the circle, saying hello as everyone greeted you quietly.

"You haven't missed much," he said as he sat back down opposite you, crossing one leg over the other and brushing his hair back away from his face. "We were just talking about how our weeks have been since the last meeting. Sandra, would you like to continue what you were saying?"

The older woman nodded and cleared her throat. "As I said, my granddaughter asked me if I could make some cakes for her school bake sale. Usually I'd have just done them for her and dropped them off, but I thought about what you said Father, about not shutting ourselves off. So I invited her to come and make them with me."

"Oh, that's lovely," he said, a genuine smile on his face.

"It was. She came 'round and we baked and talked about Harold. She remembered stories about him that even I'd forgot, it was a wonderful afternoon."

There was a murmur of kind words around the room. Mara sat quietly.

"Could you have imagined a few months ago you would've been able to do that?" asked Father Benedict.

"I know," she giggled proudly.

"I suppose that's another reason why these groups can be so helpful," he said. "We're not all going to be at the same stage in our grief, sometimes it can be encouraging to see people who may be further along than we are. It can provide us that hope that we will get there too."

You loved how confidently he spoke. How easily he could lead a group of people and have them listening with such intent. It was a charm that didn't come with the job; it was innate, as natural to him as breathing. You envied it, almost as much as you admired it.

"You brought up something interesting there, Sandra," he continued. "Something I actually wanted to touch on today. And that is remembering those we've lost through speaking about how they lived. When we talk of Jesus Christ-"

"Fucking hell," Mara mumbled under her breath.

You turned to look at her, laughing quietly.

"Yes we talk of how he died for our sins," he continued. "His death is important and we celebrate and give thanks to him for his sacrifice. But if we think about the size of the bible, the amount of stories we have of his life starting right from birth, the words he shared and the incredible things he did, those are abundantly more significant to his memory and why we choose to serve and follow his word."

Everyone nodded in agreement while you and Mara remained still.

"And we tell the stories of his life freely and openly and happily. We are eager to share. So why not do the same with those we actually had the privilege to know and love and be loved by." He leaned back slightly in his chair. "Why don't we go around and share one fun fact or story about our departed loved ones? Marion, would you like to start?"

Mara glared at you from the corner of her eye. You shrugged awkwardly.

"My dad loved practical jokes," Marion began. "I remember one time my mum was in the kitchen and my dad started screaming from upstairs 'Mary, get up here quick! There's a huge leak in the bathroom!' She ran up the stairs so fast she fell up them. Only to get to the bathroom and find my dad laughing his head off because he'd put a big leek from our vegetable patch on the toilet. Y'know... Leek, leak..."

Everyone chuckled.

Father Benedict gave a warm smile. "Sounds like he had a great sense of humour."

"He did. Drove my mum mad, though."

"That's the best kind of relationship."

You glanced across the circle at him. He caught your eye, just for a moment, before moving onto the next person.

Mara grew more and more irritable with every person who gave a story, Father Benedict's attention like an avalanche tumbling further towards her.

"Mara," he finally said.

You stilled, waiting with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"You're new here today," he said. "So before we hear your story, why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?"

"Oh no, that's okay," she replied.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, creating deep lines in his cheeks, a curve in his cupid's bow. "Are you sure?" He kept his eyes on her, unwaveringly confident.

She cleared her throat. You turned your head to look at her, brow furrowing in shock.

"I'm Mara," she said reluctantly. "I am Ellis' older sister. I have a husband and a daughter and I work for a large car manufacturing company."

"Okay, good, we're glad you're here, Mara," he said. "Do you have a story you'd like to share?"

Her mouth tightened, and you began to feel like this was a mistake. He said this would be good for her, but he didn't know her like you did. He didn't grow up scared to utter your brother's name in case it upset her. You wanted to grab her hand and tell her you were going. She was right, this was a stupid idea.

"No, that's okay," she said.

"I know it can be daunting, speaking about such a sensitive topic in front of strangers. May I ask who you lost?"

She crossed one leg over the other, resting her hands on her knee. "My brother," she muttered.

"How long ago?"

She cleared her throat, glaring at him, knowing full well he already knew. "When I was twenty-one. He was twenty-four."

Your eyes fell to your hands as you picked at your cuticle to avoid looking at her.

"Were you close?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I get the feeling you still find it difficult to talk about him..."

She didn't respond. You peered up to find them staring at each other in a silent standoff.

"It can be helpful to examine why we struggle to reminisce about those that are no longer with us," he said, addressing everyone. "Is it anger? Guilt? Are we uncomfortable when confronted with feelings of sadness and grief? We talk a lot in these sessions about acceptance, about trusting that God has wrapped his arms around our loved ones and will reunite us with them one day. But that doesn't necessarily fix the sorrow we feel while having to live without them."

He stood up and walked to the table at the back, picking up a bottle of water and unscrewing the lid.

"When I lost my brother," he continued, taking a large sip. "I built a wall around myself for a long time. I believed that wall was there to protect me from the pain, from the guilt and grief. But in protecting myself, I realised all I was really doing was diminishing his memory. It wasn't until I accepted it was okay to laugh and smile when talking about him, that I began to heal. I realised it was still okay to take the mick out of him and call him an idiot and say how much he got on my nerves, because that's who he was, those were the parts of him that lived on." He sat back down, placing the bottle under his chair. "Which is why I find this a great opportunity for us to speak positively about those we've lost."

"I have a story," you said.

He turned his attention to you and smiled. "Let's hear it."

"My brother Cain..." you began tentatively. "Our brother. He was twelve years older than me so by the time I started secondary school he was already in his early twenties. I erm, I suppose you could say I was a bit weird in school..."

Father Benedict's mouth twitched with a smirk, he rubbed his lips with the tips of his fingers to disguise it.

"There was a group of girls who'd been picking on me, and I let it slip to Cain. He was... livid. So the next day, school finished and as usual, these girls were standing at the gates saying nasty things to me. Next minute he pulled up in the car, walked over to them and told them if they ever so much as looked at me again he'd beat up their dads."

You started laughing, the image of him comically shaking his fist at a group of eleven-year-olds still so vivid in your mind. You looked over at Mara to find her chuckling quietly, shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I should say the church doesn't condone violence," said Father Benedict, making everyone laugh.

"He was usually so gentle," said Mara. "He'd never hit anyone in his life which is why it was so funny."

"And it worked," you said. "They never bothered me again."

"Mara...?" said Father Benedict. "Any other stories come to mind?"

She sighed, thinking for a moment. "Cain was... really funny. But what made him endearing was how comfortable he was in his own skin."

You looked at her from the corner of your eye, scared to move in case it made her stop talking.

"He er- We... We went on holiday to Spain one year. I was fifteen so he must've been... eighteen?" She turned to you. "You were about to turn six. Do you remember it?"

You shook your head. "Vaguely."

"Anyway, he erm- We were staying in one of those hotels that did entertainment at night, they'd get guests involved, all that. We'd just had dinner and we'd sat down for the show and realised Cain still wasn't back from the toilet. Mum sent dad looking for him, he wasn't in there, not in the room either, he literally couldn't find him anywhere on the complex. So they were just about to go and tell the hotel staff he was missing, when the entertainment started." She paused, laughing slightly to herself. "It was... a drag night. The host came out, started doing a routine to RuPaul's Supermodel, and out came a group of male guests in full drag. And there was Cain, dancing away; wig, dress, high heels and the worst makeup you've ever seen."

She was giggling now, her face bright, glowing with the memory.

Father Benedict gave a deep, throaty chuckle. "Do you see parts of him in yourself?"

"God no- Sorry, didn't mean to take the lord's name in vein. Just... no. I'm pragmatic and stiff and ordinary. He was vibrant and insouciant, clever and charming and unbelievably gorgeous yet so... weird." She turned to you. "You remind me of him. A lot."

Some may have taken that as an insult, a backhanded compliment. But to you, it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said.

"You're not ordinary," you said.

"More ordinary than you," she replied.

You laughed. "I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing."

The heatwave had yielded, like a fever that finally broke. The air was still warm, but the sky was grey, the scent of minerals and musk rising from the pavement as rain threatened to fall. You got off the bus and made the short walk to your mother's house, thankful to be done with another week of work.

Nathan's car was parked on the street outside the house, and you groaned at the prospect of another 'family dinner'. The first drops of warm rain began to spit. You titled your head back, letting it pepper your face, soothing the slight burn across your cheeks.

You opened the front door and stepped inside to find Mara and Nathan sitting in the living room, furrowing your brow when they both fell silent.

"Have I interrupted something?" you asked.

Nathan stood up. "I'll leave you two to talk."

You narrowed your eyes as he disappeared into the kitchen, giving Mara a dubious look as you sat down on the couch.

"What have I done?" you asked.

"Nothing," she said.

"Where's mum?"

"In the kitchen with the baby."

"Has something bad happened?"

"No, fucking hell Ellis just relax." She laughed as she sat up straight, crossing one leg over the other and turning her body to face you. "Nathan and I have been talking."

"Are you breaking up? That's a shame, I like him."

"No." She sighed. "We're not breaking- can you just... let me talk?"

You stayed quiet, relaxing back into the couch and waiting for her to continue.

"We've been talking with our broker and he's managed to get you an agreement in principle for a mortgage."

You stared at her in confusion.

"He can't go any further until he speaks with you, obviously, but he's confident he can get you accepted." She cleared her throat. "Of course, you'll need to put in an offer, he recommends going straight in at asking price, then we can-"

"Wait, wait, wait. What?"

"The flat."

"M-mara." You sat up, leaning forward slightly. "I appreciate you doing all of that, but... It's pointless. I can't afford-"

"We're going to give you the deposit," she interrupted quickly. "It won't be a loan, it'll be a gift. So you don't have to worry about paying it back. We'll also cover any fees and help you with furnishing if you need it."

You sat there in silence, lips parted, eyes glassy with confusion.

"Ellis...?"

"How rich are you?"

"Fuck sake, mate, focus."

"Sorry, I just- It's... Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you do that for me?"

"Because I'm your sister," she said firmly.

You paused, your breathing shallow as you tried to quiet your racing thoughts. "Mara, I can't accept that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's too much. It's... So much money. I can't take that from you."

"Yes you can."

"No, I can't."

"Do you want to live with mum forever? Or in the pissy murder flat?"

"Obviously not, but-"

"Then here you go, we're giving you the fresh start you need."

"Mara, I can't," you said, your voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.

"Yes. You. Can. Let me do this one thing for you."

"I... I need to think about it."

"What is there to think about?"

"I don't know, I just need to... think. Thank you, honestly, thank you. But I need to..."

She sighed, leaning back into the couch. "Okay. Then think about it. But just know the longer you take, the more you're risking the flat being snapped up by someone else."

You stood up but your legs felt like jelly, almost giving way beneath you. You walked slowly to the stairs, clinging to the banister as you climbed them. You were dreaming, you had to be.

You made it to your room, closing the door and pulling out your phone with shaking hands, pressing Father Benedict's name and holding the phone to your ear.

"Hello?" he answered.

You hadn't seen him since the grief meeting four days earlier, his voice a welcomed comfort as it melted through the phone.

"Hi," you said. "Are you busy?"

"No, just catching up on some paperwork in the office. Are you alright?"

"Do you think I could come and see you? I could do with some... guidance?"

"Really? Is that code for something?"

"No," you exhaled a laugh. "I just need an ear, maybe some advice."

"Okay," he said sceptically. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah. I'll be there soon."

The taxi pulled up outside the church. You climbed out and made your way onto the grounds, walking down the rain-speckled path as the warm breeze carried the scent of flowers and damp earth.

You walked around to the side door, tapping your knuckles against it and waiting, looking over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure no one saw you. He pushed open the door and let you inside, greeting you with a handsome smile. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled to the elbows, but his collar was still fastened tight around his neck. His hair was curlier than usual, a slight sunburn across the bridge of his nose.

He took you into his office, sitting back down behind his desk and returning to the mound of papers in front of him. You dropped down onto the couch facing him, watching his fingers grip the pen as he scribbled his signature, the veins protruding in his forearms as he moved.

"So what's wrong?" he asked. "You sounded worried on the phone."

"Not worried, just confused. I don't- Does the bible say anything about accepting big gifts?"

He stopped writing and glanced over at you, brows coming together over his pale eyes. "You're not being bribed, are you?"

"No," you laughed. "My sister... She's offered to give me money for a flat. A lot of money."

"Well that's great."

"Is it?"

He leaned back in his chair, fingers clasped together in his lap. "The bible says 'God loves a cheerful giver'."

"So..."

"So why do you care what the bible says?" he laughed. "You're not catholic, you don't believe in any of it."

"I know but I... Sometimes I just think it would be easier if I had some sort of faith, y'know, something to live my life by, to consult when I need to make big decisions."

"You don't need to be religious to have faith." He stood up, walking around the desk and leaning back against it. "Faith is about dedicating yourself to something bigger than yourself. There are no rules to say that something has to be a god."

"What else is there?"

"I don't know; community, philanthropy, love, justice, fucking extraterrestrials."

You dropped your head and laughed. He walked over and sat down beside you.

"If faith is what you need in order to live your life then you'll find it," he said.

You looked at him for a moment, before sighing and rolling your eyes.

"Was that not helpful?" he laughed.

"I just want to be told what to do."

"You want me to tell you what to do?"

"Please."

"Take the money, Ellis." He said softly. "Why punish yourself any further?"

"Because how do I ever repay her for something like that?"

"I'm sure she's not looking for repayment. She loves you, she wants you to be happy."

You stayed quiet, looking around the room for a moment before rolling your shoulders with a tired groan. He reached out and placed his large hand on the back of your neck, massaging it with his fingers. You closed your eyes and relaxed into the firm pressure.

"Do you want to stay while I finish my work?" he asked quietly.

You nodded, eyes still closed.

He gave one final squeeze and let go, standing up and returning to his desk.

You curled your legs underneath yourself, resting your head on the arm of the couch as you watched him work. It was hard not to imagine the two of you in that flat; you relaxing on the couch while he worked at the table by the window, bathed in light from the coloured glass, comfy clothes and a cigarette in his mouth.

Your eyelids grew heavy as you imagined him pulling you to your feet, kissing you and laughing as you danced around the flat to Van Morrison. And you wouldn't have to leave if you didn't want to, because it was yours.

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