#I had fun trying to make him look like he was maybe 25 and less dissolved by meth and gonorrhea

[pillow-coded]

To Have and To Hold — Chapter 3

Summary: After a quiet night message turns into a soft promise, Reader invites Spencer to the park. A toddler’s breakdown nearly derails the day, but it’s Spencer who meets her exactly where she is — and suddenly, they’re all a little less alone.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Slow Burn Series (NSFW, 18+)

Content Warning: Emotional toddler meltdown, real awkward ending, plus so much fluff (it hurts).

A/N: I meant to post this earlier this week, but I've had a shitty week so sorry about that. anyway, this one is really cute and kinda awkward towards the end, but still.

Word Count: 5.8k

The apartment was quiet—finally.

Maddie’s hand rested over my heart like always, warm and sticky from the bedtime banana she’d refused to finish. Her little fingers curled and uncurled with every soft exhale, grounding me more than the weight of any blanket ever could. She never meant to anchor me. But somehow, without even trying, she did.

I shifted just slightly, careful not to wake her as I reached into my nightstand drawer. Wet wipes. My saving grace since day one. There’d been too many late-night messes, too many diaper blowouts and milk spills and crayon smudges on my pillowcases. I’d learned better than to be caught unprepared.

I dabbed gently at the tacky spot on my chest, trying not to laugh. That girl could turn anything—fruit, felt tip pens, an empty laundry basket—into a memory. She should’ve been asleep in her own bed. Usually, she was. But tonight she’d asked to stay with me. Something about how happy she was, how the day had been “like ice cream in the sun.” Whatever that meant. All I knew was that her smile hadn’t faded since we’d come home.

Maybe it was the Library, or the Cafe. Maybe it was the way he’d made her laugh. The way he looked at her with such fondness.

I blinked against the dimness, trying not to think about it. About him.

But then my phone buzzed softly under the pillow.

I slid it out with one hand, careful not to jostle her. The screen lit up the room in a faint glow, barely illuminating the messy bun I’d half-heartedly tied at the crown of my head.

Unknown number.

I blinked at it.

[23:19] Unknown Number: Hi, it’s Spencer.

I sat up a little. Thumb hovering.

[23:19] Unknown Number: Just wanted to let you know, I had a good time today.

A pause. Then another message followed.

[23:20] Unknown Number: Thank you for lunch.

That one made me smile. Not because it was overly sweet or bold or flirty—but because it was him. Direct. Polite. A little awkward. Very much him.

I stared at the screen longer than I meant to, rereading each message like it might offer more if I tilted the phone or looked closer. It didn’t. But it did make my chest feel weird—tight and warm at the same time.

I typed out three or four different replies, deleting each one.

Then finally:

[23:22] Y/n: It was nice seeing you again. I think Maddie had more fun than she does on her birthday.

Send.

It took less than a minute.

[23:23] Spencer: She’s... really great.

I smiled. And then, because I couldn't help it:

[23:23] Y/n: So are you.

I hovered over the unsend button.

But didn’t press it. Instead I deleted it.

The message disappeared, swallowed by the screen like it had never existed. Still, the words hung in the air like breath on a mirror.

So are you.

Too much. Too soon. I wasn’t sure if I meant it platonically or not—and that uncertainty was a little terrifying.

Before I could spiral further, my phone buzzed again.

[23:25] Spencer: She’s... really great.

My heart softened.

So he was still thinking about her. About today. About us.

I smiled and let myself reply, more confident this time.

[23:26] Y/n: She hasn’t stopped talking about “The great wizard Spencer”

The bubble popped up almost immediately.

[23:27] Spencer: That’s a pretty solid title. I might put it on a business card.

That made me laugh. Like, an actual out-loud laugh that made Maddie stir against my arm. I stifled it quickly, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead.

[23:27] Y/n: I’ll let you know if she starts asking for autographs.

Another pause. Longer this time.

[23:29] Spencer: Would it be alright if I saw you both again sometime?

My heart did that fluttery thing it hadn’t done in way too long.

[23:30] Y/n: Of course. We’d like that.

[23:30] Y/n: She’s obsessed with the park by the old church. The one with the ducks. We’re probably going next week.

A beat.

[23:32] Spencer: Let me know when. I’ll bring more magic tricks.

I smiled down at the screen. Warm. Stupidly warm.

[23:33] Y/n: Maddie’s gonna love you if ducks and magic are involved.

[23:33] Spencer: I’m okay with that.

The reply hit harder than I expected.

I didn’t dare move Maddie—her head was still tucked against my chest, one hand limp across my ribs—but I did kick my feet a little beneath the blanket. A stupid little wiggle like I was fifteen again and someone had just texted “I like your smile” between classes.

I bit down a grin and locked the screen, hugging the phone to my shoulder like a secret. Like I could fold myself around it.

Like maybe I already was.

Then, I tucked my phone away and curled myself around Maddie. Her breathing deepened again, steady and small.

And this time, when I closed my eyes, I didn’t feel so alone.

═══════

“Mommy! Mommy! I want to feed the ducks!”

She was already running before I could finish tying my shoe. Hair bouncing, little legs wobbling across the grass like she’d been launched from a cannon.

“Hold on, Maddie!” I called after her, one hand digging for the crusty ziplock bag of old sandwich bread I’d shoved in my coat pocket. “Wait for me!”

We’d barely been at the park for ten minutes. I'd imagined a peaceful morning—sunlight on the pond, maybe a moment to sit and breathe while she ran around chasing butterflies or scaring pigeons. But no. We’d seen one cartoon episode of Peppa Pig where they fed ducks, and suddenly this was a mission.

By the time I caught up, she was already pressed against the wooden railing by the water’s edge, bouncing on her toes.

Her whole body thrummed with purpose. And maybe it was ridiculous, how serious she looked in her little sneakers and her sparkly hair clips. But I knew that look.

She took ducks seriously. Like, seriously.

Ever since that one spring we got caught in the rain walking home from daycare, and took cover under the big oak near the pond. She was barely two, still in that phase where she called umbrellas “brellas” and clung to me like I was her only anchor in the world.

We sat on a bench under my jacket while the rain came down, and out waddled this duck. So calm. So… bold, really. Like she was the one letting us take cover in her park.

Maddie was mesmerized.

She pointed and whispered “duckie” like it was holy. And then the duck quacked—loud, short, ridiculous—and Maddie burst into laughter so hard she hiccupped. She talked about that duck for weeks. Drew it. Named it. Told anyone who would listen about that duck. Even though back then all she could say about the situation was “duckie” and “rain”,

She loves ducks.

And I should’ve known—should’ve remembered—that with Maddie, joy is always right on the edge of disaster.

“I need the bread!”

“Here,” I panted, pulling out the bag and handing her a crust. “One piece at a time, okay?”

She nodded like she was listening. She wasn’t.

The first piece went fine. A duck quacked. She squealed with glee. I smiled—right up until she tried to rip a second slice in half and it crumbled entirely in her hands.

Her face froze.

“Oh no,” she whispered, staring down at her hands.

The crust had crumbled. A soft, torn mess now instead of the perfect piece she’d carefully picked. She blinked down at it once, twice—then her lower lip started to wobble.

“I didn’t mean to break it,” she said, her voice shaking like a cup about to spill. “It was for the baby duck.”

That was all it took.

Her shoulders curled inward, little fists tightening around the useless crumbs. She wasn’t loud—not really. Just crushed. Her eyes filled fast, lashes clumped with tears that slid down before I could wipe them.

“Maddie, hey,” I murmured, already crouching beside her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You can still give it to them. The ducks don’t mind if it’s—”

“But I wanted to do it right,” she choked. “It was supposed to be a big piece. For the littlest one.”

I felt my chest ache. Because of course it wasn’t just about the bread. This was about doing it right. About getting the moment just the way she imagined it in her head.

Maddie wasn’t the kind of kid who melted down often. She didn’t throw things or stomp or scream. When she fell apart, it always looked like this—quiet, crumpled, like she thought she’d ruined something important and couldn’t figure out how to fix it.

Sometimes I feel like she’s too much like me… and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

That soft kind of perfectionism, the one that doesn’t make a scene but still bruises you from the inside out—that’s mine. She must’ve picked it up without me even realizing. And now here she was, four years old and already trying to carry disappointment like it was her fault.

I rested a hand on her back, rubbing gently in small circles.

“It’s still a gift,” I whispered. “They’ll still love it. You were being really thoughtful.”

She sniffled, trying to blink away the tears. But she was still trembling, overwhelmed in that way only a little kid can be—feeling everything all at once with no place to put it.

I exhaled through my nose, brushing hair from her face as she started to sob.

“Mads, I know it’s hard. It’s just bread, baby. The ducks are still going to love it, okay?”

She wasn’t hearing me. Not really. She was too deep in it now—splotchy cheeks, hiccupping breath, the kind of cry that meant her logic center had officially left the building. I sat back on my heels and rubbed a hand up her arm, unsure if I should wait it out or—

“Hey.”

The voice was soft, careful. I turned.

Spencer.

He was walking toward us slowly, hands tucked in his coat pockets, eyes trained on Maddie like she was something fragile—like he didn’t want to step too hard and shatter her.

He crouched beside us, not directly in front of her, but angled. A little to the side. Not taking up too much space. Not pushing. Just… there.

“Did you know,” he said, voice low and steady, “ducklings sleep in a line, and the last one watches for danger?”

Maddie hiccupped mid-cry.

Spencer glanced at her. “They take turns. The one at the back is like the brave little lookout. And when that one gets tired, they all shuffle around and a new duckling takes over.”

Her breathing slowed.

Not stopped—but slowed. She looked at him. Her brows were still pinched, lips still trembling, but her eyes were on him now.

“Really?” she sniffled.

He nodded solemnly. “Mm-hmm. They’re very organized. I don’t think they cry when their bread breaks.”

Her bottom lip twitched—almost a smile, almost a sob. She wiped her face on her sleeve and looked down at the crumbs in her palm.

“I was gonna give it to the baby duck,” she whispered.

Spencer reached over, gently gathering the soft little bits of crust from her hands like they were something worth keeping.

“I think the baby duck will still like it. Maybe even more.”

She didn’t answer. Just nodded slowly, eyes darting to the pond where the ducks were still floating, completely unfazed by the emotional crisis unfolding beside them.

I looked at him—at this man with too-long sleeves and a napkin in his back pocket and somehow, somehow, the exact right words for her. He met her where she was. Not above her. Not behind her. Right there.

My throat felt tight, watching them. Not romantic, not yet. Just… grateful.

He glanced at me.

“She okay?” he asked quietly.

I could only nod.

She was still sniffling, but the storm had passed. And he—he had been the one to calm it.

She was still sniffling, but the storm had passed. And he—he had been the one to calm it.

Spencer leaned back on his heels and looked down at her gently. “Come on, Maddie,” he said, his voice low. “Let’s go sit for a bit.”

She nodded solemnly, still clutching the now-crumbled crust in her palm like it was important. Like she’d earned it.

The three of us made our way to a sun-warmed bench just off the path. Maddie plopped beside me for all of thirty seconds before spotting a stick and toddling back into the grass with renewed purpose.

“Stay where I can see you,” I called after her automatically.

“I am here,” she chirped, not looking back—already dragging her stick through a patch of mud like she was etching runes only she could read.

I smiled, shaking my head, then glanced at Spencer. He was sitting beside me now, arms resting on his knees, eyes still half-watching her.

Maddie had wandered a few feet off the path, turning slow circles in the grass. Her cheeks were still blotchy, her nose pink, but her energy had returned with that stubborn, sunlit determination only kids seem to have. She hummed softly to herself, poking at a leaf like it owed her an explanation.

The quiet between us wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt… earned.

“Thanks again,” I said gently. “For what you said to her. I don’t think I would’ve gotten through to her like that.”

Spencer shook his head, eyes still following Maddie’s slow loops through the grass.

“Of course you would’ve,” he said, like it was fact. “You’re her mom.”

There was no teasing in his voice. No patronizing edge. Just this calm certainty, like he didn’t even question it—like being her mom meant I had all the answers, even on the days I felt like I was making it up as I went.

I didn’t say anything at first. Just watched Maddie squat to poke a stick into a puddle, her brow furrowed in deep concentration.

“She really wanted to do it right,” I murmured.

“She did.”

His tone was so sure, so full of quiet admiration that I had to glance over at him.

“You’re good with kids,” I said.

He shrugged. “I read some parenting books. Once.”

I laughed under my breath. “You studied parenting?”

Spencer nodded, like that wasn’t a strange thing for someone without kids to do. “I thought… maybe, one day.” He paused, then looked down. “And it helped. Knowing things, I mean. Back then.”

Something in the way he said back then made my smile falter. Just a little.

There it was again—that curiosity I can’t seem to shut off. The kind I usually try to smother when it comes to strangers. But he wasn’t a stranger, not really. And he didn’t owe me anything. He’d only met me twice. But still… the way he spoke around things, softened the edges of certain truths—it made me lean in.

The parts he was awfully vague about glowed to me, and as always, I was attracted to that glow.

“Maybe one day?” I pry. God, I hate myself for it, but I can’t help it.

He looks taken aback for a second, like he didn’t expect me to ask. Then his gaze drops again, quieter this time.

“I just… always thought I’d have kids someday. I guess it just won’t ever happen.”

There’s a shrug at the end of it, but it feels forced—like he knows better than to hope, so he’s trying not to want. Like wanting hurts too much.

I don’t answer right away. Because what do you say to that? You still could? Never say never? None of it would land right, and I’m not sure I’ve earned the right to reassure him.

So I just sit with it. With him. Letting his words settle like dust between us while Maddie hums in the distance, dragging her stick across a tree root like she’s solving a puzzle only she understands.

I turned my eyes back to Maddie. She was trying to balance her stick on a rock now, humming to herself like she hadn’t just had a meltdown fifteen minutes ago.

We sat in silence for a while. Long enough for the breeze to pick up and scatter a few dandelion tufts past our shoes.

Out in the grass, Maddie was trying to balance her stick on a rock, tongue poking out slightly in concentration. She hummed to herself like she hadn’t just cried her heart out fifteen minutes ago.

That’s the thing about kids. They rebound faster than the rest of us ever learn to.

The silence stretched between us, but it didn’t feel empty. It felt like something was being carefully made—not spoken, but built all the same.

The breeze picked up, rustling through the trees, scattering a few dandelion tufts past our shoes. Maddie tried to catch one, missed, and laughed like she hadn’t missed at all.

“Maddie, come here sweetheart,” I called gently, not because she was far, but because I wanted her a little closer. She looked up, blinked, and came skipping back without hesitation, stick still clutched in one hand.

She settled on the grass by my feet, twisting the hem of her shirt, perfectly content.

I looked at her. Then at Spencer.

“Mads,” I said, brushing a bit of hair behind her ear, “why don’t you take Spence on a hunt for dandelions?”

Her head popped up, instantly intrigued.

“The one who brings me the most wins.”

It was a lighthearted prompt, but I meant it. Not the game itself—but what it could give him. A small piece of something I could tell he thought he’d lost.

I didn’t know what he’d say. But part of me hoped that maybe if he felt just a little needed—if she looked at him with that wide-eyed kind of wonder only she could pull off—then maybe it would lift the weight he was carrying. Even just a little.

Maybe it would help soothe whatever part of him still ached from wanting more.

Maddie gasped like I’d just handed her a treasure map. “Come on!” she squeaked, grabbing Spencer’s hand with both of hers.

He barely had time to react before she was tugging him toward the grass, already scanning the lawn like a detective on a mission.

Spencer stumbled a step, startled, then let out a soft laugh—more breath than sound—as he glanced back at me with wide eyes, like Is this normal? Am I being kidnapped by a preschooler?

I just smiled and waved them off. “No mercy, Spencer. She plays to win.”

He shook his head, still smiling as Maddie dragged him deeper into the dandelion hunt—stick in one hand, Spencer in the other.

I watched them go—his long, unsure stride trying to match her bouncing steps, her chatter already spilling out in enthusiastic bursts. Something about which flowers counted and which ones were “too yellow,” as if that were a rule.

Spencer looked completely out of his element and, somehow, like he belonged there anyway.

It did something to me.

Something warm. A little sharp around the edges.

Because I hadn’t expected to see that look on his face. Not so soon. Not here. But there it was—genuine, soft, and just the tiniest bit overwhelmed in a way that made me ache.

He didn’t even notice he was still holding her hand.

And Maddie didn’t either.

She just pointed excitedly to a patch near a tree and pulled him along with that same relentless certainty she had when she knew exactly what she wanted.

And for a second, I let myself wonder what it would look like—really look like—if that image in front of me wasn’t temporary. If this wasn’t just a moment, but a beginning.

That image is quickly scratched off when my brain comes back to the real world, and remember this is my third time seeing him.

I leaned back on the bench and closed my eyes for half a second, letting the sound of her laughter and his quiet responses drift through the breeze like music I didn’t know I’d been missing.

That softness barely had time to settle in my chest before reality tugged it back out. Because this was only the third time I’d ever seen him.

Three times. That’s it.

I let out a breath and leaned back on the bench, closing my eyes for half a second—just long enough to take in the sound of Maddie’s laughter and Spencer’s soft replies. It all drifted in on the breeze like music I didn’t know I’d been missing.

Their voices got louder before I opened my eyes.

“We found so many!” Maddie announced, bursting back toward the bench like she was returning from war with trophies. Her hands were full—dandelions, leaves, a stick or two for good measure.

Spencer followed behind, looking slightly winded and holding his own handful of flattened stems and sun-worn petals. His hair was a little messier now, a leaf stuck to his elbow, and he looked... happy. A little confused by it, but happy.

“I think we cleared out half the park,” he said, glancing at me as he approached.

“She said we have enough,” he added, gesturing to Maddie. “Her exact words were, ‘This is too many for a crown.’”

Maddie dumped her collection into my lap like a florist with no concept of restraint. “You have to pick the best ones,” she said seriously.

“I’ll try,” I smiled, already sorting through the tangle of greens and golds. “But I might need a caffeine boost first.”

Spencer hesitated. Not dramatically. Just for a beat—long enough that I noticed.

Then: “Do you want to grab a coffee? There’s a place just across the street. I mean—if you’re not in a rush.”

He said it casually, but there was something hopeful tucked inside the words.

I looked at Maddie, who had now moved on to weaving blades of grass together like she was inventing rope.

“I think we’ve got time,” I said, glancing back at him. “Especially if they have chocolate milk.”

Spencer smiled—really smiled—and offered his hand to help me up.

“Then it’s a date.”

He blinked, like maybe he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

I didn’t correct him, just smiled.

The café was familiar. The kind of place I used to seek out during long layovers and quiet Saturday mornings. Warm lighting. Muffled conversation. A low hum of espresso machines. It should’ve made me feel grounded.

But nothing about being around her ever felt grounded.

Y/n ordered Maddie’s warm milk like it was second nature—“just a little foam, please, not too hot”—and I couldn’t stop watching the way her hand hovered protectively near her daughter’s back while she spoke. Easy. Confident. Effortlessly cool, in that way people are when they don’t know you’re watching.

I stepped up to the counter, said my order too quickly, and regretted it immediately. Black coffee. Four sugars. I should’ve asked for something else. Something less... revealing.

We moved to a table by the window. Maddie climbed into her seat like it was a jungle gym. Y/n slid into hers with a kind of fluid calm that made me hyper-aware of how long it took me to sit down.

The moment I touched my cup, I was already wrapping a napkin around it. I always do. It wasn’t even about the heat. It was the texture. The condensation. The smudges. I didn’t like the way paper cups felt.

Across from me, Y/n was watching.

“That’s a lot of sugar,” she murmured with a smile. I couldn’t tell if she was mocking me or just amused.

I should be better at telling the difference. I’m a profiler, for crying out loud… but I just couldn’t.

It didn’t help that her voice was so gentle. Or that her smile wasn’t mean—but it wasn’t entirely neutral either. It lingered in this space I couldn’t read. And I hate not being able to read people. Especially when it’s her.

I looked down at the cup, at the napkin crinkled under my fingertips. “Four and a half,” I said quietly. “Sometimes five.”

“Wow,” she replied, leaning back with wide eyes that might’ve been mock-horrified, but still kind. “You don’t strike me as a sugar guy.”

I shrugged, bracing for the joke. “You’d be surprised.”

She didn’t laugh at me. Just took a sip of her drink and tilted her head like she was trying to figure something out about me. And it made me want to explain it. Like if I could just offer enough context, maybe I wouldn’t feel so exposed.

“It’s just… it balances the bitterness. I don’t like sweet drinks, but straight black coffee is too acidic. Sugar dulls that. And it’s not like I drink a ton of it—just… every morning.”

She smiled again. “Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to justify liking your coffee weird.”

I blinked. “It’s not—”

She raised an eyebrow.

Okay. It’s weird.

I flushed and looked back down at my cup, fingers tightening slightly around the napkin.

I glanced to the side—Maddie had gotten up and was now twirling slowly near the edge of our table, holding her warm milk in both hands like it was some sort of magic chalice.

Her voice was soft and distracted as she spun, “This is a potion… for frogs and wishes and—and sparkles—”

I smiled without meaning to.

Y/n did too.

And for a moment, I thought maybe this wasn’t so strange after all. Maybe this little pocket of normalcy—this table, this coffee, this conversation—was something I could belong in.

“I think it’s endearing,” she added after a beat. “The sugar. The napkin. The whole—” she gestured vaguely at me, “thing.”

The whole thing.

I wasn’t sure what that meant. But she said it like it wasn’t bad.

And that... that kind of terrified me.

She didn’t allowed me to overthink it too much, because she quickly switched the subject.

“What do you do for a living?”

I blinked.

It was such a normal question. One I’d answered a hundred times. But for some reason I felt like answering it would make her run for the hills.

Because this—whatever this was—felt like the first thing in a long time that I didn’t want to screw up.

And telling people what I do usually has a way of screwing things up.

Not immediately, not always. But there’s a shift. Their eyes go a little wider, their questions get more cautious, the air between us starts to carry weight. They picture blood and bodies, serial killers and endless darkness. They imagine me as some hardened version of myself—someone who can’t possibly fit into a soft, ordinary world like this one.

They don’t see the way it costs something. Or how much of myself I’ve had to wall off just to keep doing it.

And maybe the worst part is, I don’t even blame them.

So yeah. I hesitated.

Because Y/n doesn’t feel like someone passing through. And I don’t want her looking at me like I’m another thing to be careful around.

I just want her to keep looking at me like this—curious, a little amused, like I’m someone she actually wants to know.

“I, uh...” I hesitated. Then frowned slightly. “Why are you asking?”

She raised an eyebrow, sipping her drink. “Just curious.”

Before I could respond, there was a sharp gasp and the scrape of a chair leg against the floor.

I turned just in time to see Maddie—spinning, laughing—bump full force into a woman carrying a tray.

The tray jolted. A to-go cup teetered. A lid flew.

Coffee sloshed dangerously close to the edge before the woman caught it, steadying everything with an almost superhuman reflex.

Maddie froze mid-spin, eyes wide. Milk dripping from the rim of her cup.

I stood up without thinking, already reaching for the napkins.

Y/n was faster. She was by Maddie’s side in a second, one hand bracing her daughter’s arm, the other already offering an apology.

“Oh my god—I'm so sorry,” she said breathlessly. “Maddie, hey—baby, slow down, remember?”

The woman blinked, then laughed. Not sharply—kindly. Like someone who’s been there.

“It’s okay,” she said, smiling at Y/n. “I’ve got three at home. They’re always so hyper.”

Then she crouched slightly, looking Maddie right in the eye. “Just gotta be careful with coffee, sweetheart. Grown-ups get very dramatic when their caffeine disappears.”

Maddie gave a quick, serious nod like she’d just been handed ancient scrolls.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“No harm done.” The woman stood, tray still in one piece. Then she looked up—at me, at Y/n, at all three of us standing around this tiny table like something sacred had just been spilled.

“You guys make a cute family,” she said.

Y/n opened her mouth—just slightly—like she might explain. But nothing came out.

I didn’t say anything either.

Our eyes met. Just for a second. Maybe two.

But it felt longer.

She didn’t smile. I didn’t, either. There was no soft laugh, no quick deflection—just that look. Still, quiet, sharp at the edges. Like we were both holding our breath under it.

I should’ve laughed. Said something. Cleared the air before it turned into something neither of us was ready to touch. But my throat felt tight. My mouth didn’t move.

And the worst part?

I didn’t want to correct the woman.

Because in that moment—just for that fleeting, fragile second—it didn’t feel wrong.

It felt like something we’d almost earned. Like a dream I hadn’t let myself have, standing there, looking at her holding Maddie so gently, like this was their rhythm and I’d just... joined in.

Her eyes were the first to flick away.

But not far. Just down—to Maddie. To the hand still curled lightly around her sleeve.

She didn’t say we’re not. She didn’t laugh it off either. And I knew Y/n. She was quick-witted, sharp. She always had something to say.

The fact that she said nothing? That spoke louder than anything else.

My grip on the napkins tightened. I didn’t realize I was still holding them.

I wanted to ask what she was thinking. If she felt it too—that strange pull between us, like a truth neither of us had the right to claim yet.

But Maddie broke the silence before I could.

She looked up at both of us, blinking slowly. Her voice came out in a whisper, fragile and curious.

“We’re a family?”

It hit me like a pin to a balloon.

And that was it. The moment fractured.

Y/n’s expression changed instantly—like someone had flipped a switch. That softness in her eyes vanished, replaced by quiet panic. Her voice came quickly, too quickly.

“No, sweetheart…” she said, crouching slightly beside Maddie, her hands smoothing down the child’s arms as if that might ground them both. “Spencer’s our friend.”

She smiled as she said it. Gentle. Reassuring.

But it was the kind of smile you put on when something needs to be undone.

And she was right. Of course she was right.

We weren’t a family.

I had only just met her. Twice, technically. Maybe three times, if you count the bookstore. And already I was letting myself entertain some ridiculous narrative like I belonged in this picture—like I could fold myself into their life without warning or invitation.

God. I really should’ve said something.

I should’ve corrected the stranger. Should’ve stepped in before Y/n had to. Should’ve done something to stop that little ache in Maddie’s voice before it landed in the middle of us like that.

Instead, I just stood there. Silent. A napkin still balled in my hand like I didn’t know what else to hold.

I wasn’t her dad. I wasn’t her partner. I wasn’t even really their friend.

I was just some guy who got too comfortable in a moment that didn’t belong to him.

We eventually sat down again. Maddie was calm now, sipping what was left of her milk and humming quietly to herself, as if the moment had never happened.

But I could still feel the tension clinging to my spine like static. Y/n didn’t look at me. She just wiped her hand on a napkin and sat back in her chair, her face unreadable.

Then—too casual, like she was trying to smooth the silence with a joke—she said, “Most dads would’ve panicked with a spill like that.”

It hit harder than it should have.

“Sorry—I didn’t mean to imply that you were implying that I was. I just—sometimes people assume things, and I didn’t want it to sound like I thought—”

I stopped. Inhaled. Shut my eyes for half a second.

God. Stop talking.

Y/n didn’t say anything right away. Just stirred her drink with the little wooden stick, slow and unbothered.

“I wasn’t implying anything,” she said finally. Calm. Simple. Kind, but not comforting. “It was just a comment.”

Right. Just a comment.

And I’d made it weird.

I nodded, even though it didn’t feel like enough. I didn’t know how to say I didn’t mean to get weird about it because the truth is I wish I belonged in that picture. So I didn’t say anything.

I just folded the edge of my napkin tighter and stared at my coffee like it had the answer I’d missed.

“She’s funny,” I said instead. My voice came out quieter than I meant.

Y/n finally glanced over.

“She likes you,” she said. And her tone had changed—not playful, not distant. Just… honest.

And somehow, that made it worse.

Because I liked her too. Too much. Too soon. And I had no idea what to do with that.

So I didn’t do anything.

Not when she looked away. Not when Maddie reached for her hand. Not even when I thought, for the briefest second, about reaching for it too.

I just sat there, fingers fidgeting with a damp napkin, trying to act like I hadn’t already imagined what it might feel like to belong here.

To be part of their little world.

To be hers.

Maddie giggled at something only she understood, milk still clinging to the corners of her mouth. Y/n smiled at her, soft and real, and I felt it hit me in the chest—how easy it came to them.

How hard it was to sit across from that and pretend I didn’t want in.

The sunlight had shifted, hitting the table just right. I watched the reflection of her hand on the glass.

And let it stay there, just out of reach.

Previous Chapter

taglist : @smithieandy @kspencer34 @person-005 @diffidentphantom @23moonjellies @reidssoulmate @imaginationfever13 @measure-in-pain @Reidrs @un-messed @rhinelivinglife @Skye-westwood @xxfairyqueenxx @alrat13

[pipartuuli]

love your art! as for requests, is white on white skwisgaar okay? if not, it’s cool and keep rocking on 🤟

guitarists defeated = 666

(THANK YOU @basu-shokikita for the fun request! I love his tall glass of milk lookin ass!! requests are always open for the fandoms in my pinned btw!)

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

“Abraham lived for 175 years, and he died at a ripe old age, having lived a long and satisfying life. He breathed his last and joined his ancestors in death. His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah, near Mamre, in the field of Ephron son of Zohar the Hittite.” - Genesis 25:7-9

In true Grace fashion, I am doing what I enjoy best: going crazy over brothers. And just look at this!!

Imagine. You are born. The story of your birth is a messy one. Your dad and his wife were told, directly, by the Lord of the universe, that they were going to have a son—that God was going to gift them a son. But they grew impatient, grew tired of waiting for God. So your dad slept with your mother, a servant, and that is why you exist: impatience. Your father’s wife mistreats your mother, and your mother runs away, and she is frightened and crying. God sees her. He tells her it’s okay, it will be okay, things will be okay. Go back. And God fulfills His promise and gives a son to your father and his wife, and it is instantly clear that though you are the firstborn, you are not your father’s gift. Your father loves you. Your father calls you son. You make fun of your baby brother. You know you are not the one God promised, but God promised to bless you even so. A great nation will spring forth because of you, God said. You are wild and you are in the wilderness a lot. Maybe the thorns and the animals and the mud and the hawk that snatches its prey crying from the grasses is more understandable to you than your own home. But you think your home never was your home after all. You wish you could love your brother and it is hard.

Imagine. You are born. You are told from the moment you are first held that you are promised, chosen, gifted, loved, anxiously and impatiently awaited. You have an older brother. Your mother does not like him. Your mother does not like him or his mother. Your brother makes fun of you. You don’t know why things are hard. Your brother and his mother are sent away and they do not come back. Your brother grows up wild. You think of him sometimes. God has a plan for you both, and just because the plans are different does not mean that one is less. Your father loves you both. Your father loves you more. You want to love your brother but it is hard.

Imagine. You both live entirely different lives; thistles and tents, water jugs and raised daggers, wildness and submission, prophecy. You live in different lands. You have different people. You think, speak, walk different. You don’t see each other much and maybe sometimes you try to pretend you are not brothers because it would be simpler if that were true. And then your father dies. And you bury him together, next to his wife. Isaac’s mother. Ishmael’s afflicter. But you bury him together.

At the end of the day, you were both born. At the end of the day, you were both loved. At the end of the day, wondrous plans were written into infinity for you both by God Himself. At the end of the day, you both had the same father. At the end of the day, he died. At the end of the day, you bury him. Together.

At the end of the day, you are brothers.

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Finding Peace Pt.1: Paid in Lies (Spike x Y/N)

Requested: No. Part 1 of the Multific.

Synopsis: This is lore for the character in the other fics. It helps to build up the relationship and the direction. Feel free to get acquainted with it. <3

Word count: 2.5k

TW: None.

Masterlist | Next

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Another droll day with the Scoobies. The Magic Box was their hangout after all. Spike wishes he was anywhere but this place. However, he found himself at the metaphysical store more times than not. After getting the chip implanted and losing his ability to kill, he finds himself being amused by their banter and attempts at saving the world.

Today was different. The normal Scooby chatter was taken up by a voice he didn't recognize. A story he had never heard was being told followed by laughter. He was weary of new people.

"So then I told him that he couldn't tell a newt's eye from a bat's and that's what makes him a horrible wizard." Y/n exclaimed and laughter erupted.

"I can't believe you got into a fight with a kid over the last piece of candy." Willow stated.

"I take Halloween very seriously." You quipped.

"Aren't you like a hundred?" Xander chimed in.

"Rude. I'm 25. I can still trick or treat. They say it’s the only day the big bad doesn’t come out" you got up from your chair and walked to the register when you noticed Spike.

Everyone became nervous about your statement.

"What big bad?" Buffy asked.

"I don't know. It’s just something people say." Spike approached you. "Welcome to the Magic Box how can I h-"

"Don't bother with him, he doesn't buy anything." Giles interrupted, having come from the back room after he heard your comment.

"Oh. In that case, hi I’m y/n." Your voice was inviting, suspiciously so. Spike didn't trust it but didn't back away.

"I’m the big bad" he responded.

"Interesting. Then it means that you don't come out on Halloween."

Willow snickered.

Spike seemed incredulous. You just met him and you're already making fun of him.

"He's Spike, he just exists." Buffy chimed in.

"Rough." You stated.

An awkward silence followed. No one would say it, but they wanted you gone. It was time for the Scoobie’s nightly meeting, and you weren't invited since you were a regular civilian.

Giles finally got the hint. "Y/n it’s gonna be a slow night. Why don't you head home."

You hesitated but nodded. You packed up your things. "Night guys! It was nice meeting you Mr. Spike Big Bad."

As soon as you leave the chatter picks up. Conversations about the latest big bad and how to take them down takes up the space. But not for Spike. His interest is peaked by y/n. He's used to being mocked but never by someone he just met, much less a human. If you knew who he was would you still try that stunt? He was strung out from a previous altercation and was actively looking for trouble. So, he starts asking questions about you.

"She just came in one day and asked for a job. She doesn't talk much about herself but knows a lot about the occult." Willow offered.

"I bet she's a demon" Xander chimes in.

"How about we slow it down on the demon accusations. She might just be a big nerd like Giles." Buffy mentions.

Giles frowns at Buffy's retorts.

Spike mulls it over. He's decided to get more information out of you. He may be off base, but he feels that you're hiding something. No one comes to Sunnydale just because.

The conversation continues in the background as Spike devices a plan to follow you, maybe find out more about you. He exits The magic Box without a word. He’s hot on your trail watching your every movement until you stop. He doubles back into an alley. He hears you snicker. He’s so irritated by your calm demeanor that he breaks his silent stalking.

“You know, pretty girls shouldn’t be walking alone at night.” He walks up behind you.

“You think I’m pretty?” You turn around, a grin on your face.

He’s definitely annoyed now. “I could kill you if I wanted to.”

“Same.” She retorted and started walking off.

He stands there, flabbergasted. Who do you think you are? Don’t you know who you’re dealing with?

He walks up to you again, walking beside you. Eyeing you as you walk silently.

After awhile you speak up, “It’s weird for you to follow me.”

He’s quiet again. You knew he was following you. Most humans are oblivious. “You’re not afraid to be on your own, huh?”

“Nope. I’ve done it my whole life. Being an orphan does give you that hyper independence vibe.”

He stands in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. He thinks over whether he will show you his vamp face. Maybe scare you a bit. He decides against it. “Just be careful, love.” He walks away.

“If it’s so dangerous, why don’t you walk me home, big bad?” You shout out to him.

He stops, smirks and turns around. He smugly walks up to you and you both resume a quiet but steady pace to your house. Upon arrival you turn to him, “I can’t invite you in. I just met you and I can’t risk all that noise. Thank you for walking me home, though.”

He nods nonchalantly. “Goodnight, then.” He walks away feeling a bit awkward. Like, what just happened? He offered to walk a stranger home and you refused to invite him in? Did you know he was a vampire? Were you just being polite? So many questions.

The next day a similar occurrence happened. He saw you at The Magic Box, heard you talking about the occult soliciting laughter with your odd anecdote, and off you were to your home. He debated whether or not to follow you again. As if his feet had a mind of their own, he trailed behind you once more. He caught up to you and started small talk.

Where did you come from. “North Carolina”

Where were you going. “To find freedom.”

How long were you planning on staying. “’Till the money runs out.”

Who were you in love with. You paused at his bold question. He shrugged, “well, answer the question.” He pressed.

You took a pause. You told him of two previous lovers, both in which love was unrequited. You explained that you lived for the moment and not for men.

Before he could start up with questions you interrupted with your own. You asked the same questions. He hesitated to answer your questions honestly.

“Same questions. Go.”

He sighed. “England. Err.. to…” He paused. He realized he didn’t have the answer to where was he going and how long he was planning on staying at Sunnydale. How to explain that he is a vampire with no real vamp-like behavior? How to admit that he was obsessed with Buffy? So, he opted to skip to the last question. “It doesn’t matter. As for love, I had a nice lady. Crazy bird, she was. I loved her until she left me. Now I just go with whatever fancies me.” He flashes you a grin. You laugh.

“You’re harping on me, but you have no real plan or ambitions.”

That hurt his feelings. He had ambitions, in the past he wanted to kill the slayer. Now he wants to date her. Maybe his priorities got skewed.

As he further mulls over what you said, you both arrive at her home.

“Thank you for walking me home, again. It’s nice to have company.

And so, this became a daily occurrence. Spike would walk you home and ask you about your life, your day, and your connection to the Scoobies. It seemed harmless and he enjoyed how normal you made him feel. With you there was no talk of demons or the end of the world, just a normal human doing human things.

A month has passed, and Spike is still walking you home every day you work at The Magic Box. Today Spike felt bolder in his questions while walking you back home.

“What are we?” Spike side eyed you.

“That’s a bit forward. If you need to know, I thought we were friends. I mean, aren’t you and Buffy a thing?”

He was taken aback by your observation. Of course, he had a thing for Buffy, but it wasn’t reciprocated.

“Let’s change the subject…” Spike trailed off. “Friends, huh? Don’t got many o’ those.”

You smiled. “Then consider yourself lucky to have me.”

He looked away, a smile on his face.

You arrive at your house. “So, when are you inviting me in?” Spike spoke up.

You paused. How to tell him you know… “I’m not ready. Give me time.” You made heavy eye contact. He stepped closer to you, sharing your space. You stood there for what seemed an eternity.

“I’m not gon’ hurt you.” He whispered.

You nodded, “I know.” You leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. You turned around and entered your house.

He stood there, surprised, and giddy. He smiled, a genuine smile as he walked back to his crypt with a pep in his step.

2 months have passed, and you too have spent a lot of time being close. Boundaries are still in place. Like he’s not allowed in your house, but you too linger at your doorway, in each other’s space. He is still after Buffy, but he brushes his hand against yours, whispers into your ear, and plays with your hair, among other affectionate touches.

3 months have passed, and you and Spike have gotten to know each other well. The Scoobies were weary of your inside jokes and playful glances.

“You know, the sun is setting quicker.” Spike mentioned as a hint that it was time for you two to head out.

You sighed. “Let me finish up this order.” You looked up at him feigning annoyance.

“Don’t want the big bad to get you.” Spike gave you a playful look.

You smiled. “Well, what am I keeping you around for?”

Xander groaned. “Kiss already.” He yelled in frustration which made you and Spike laugh.

As you were getting your bag a demon came crashing in through the entrance of The Magic Box. It snarled and tore down shelves and tables that were in his way. “Give me the slayer” He exclaimed.

“I’m right here, tall and ugly.” Buffy jumped in.

“Not slayer.” He swatted her away. “Real slayer.” He pointed at you. Everyone looked at you confused. You debated on whether to feign innocence or help out. Before you had made up your mind the demon started charging at you. At that point you back flipped into his line of fire and kicked him in the jaw. Everyone stood incredulous.

You proceeded to beat the demon punch after punch. Not holding back, you pulled a sword from a sheath you had strapped on your back under your shirt. Without hesitation you went for the demon’s throat, blood splattering everywhere. You stood covered in blood but triumphant.

Silence followed. You turned around, “Ta-da?”

Buffy stood from her spot and marched up to you. “Who are you, really?”

“Yeah, explain yourself.” Spike yelled from the back.

You sighed, defeated. “Everyone sit down. I’ll explain. Please, just listen and then ask questions. It’s a long story.”

You proceeded to explain that you were close to 1,000 years old, 985 to be exact, and that you were then deemed the slayer in your village. You were raised by your grandfather who was also your watcher. On the night of your 25th birthday, you killed a vampire that was the lover of a very powerful witch in your village. The witch, heartbroken and vengeful, put a curse on you that you would not die until you found peace. That doomed you to roam the Earth in the search of true peace.

The gang was quiet. The atmosphere was heavy. You were ashamed and embarrassed.

“Why did you lie?” Spike spoke up first. His voice was heavy with anger.

“I had to. It’s so difficult to be open about why I still exist. It’s shameful.” You lowered your head.

He didn’t seem satisfied with your answer and left. Your eyes trailed after him. You knew you hurt him. You purposefully created a whole life, and he believed it. You both shared moments, connection, vulnerability and yours was all a rouse.

“I’m confused. How can you not die?” Willow asked.

Her question snapped you back to reality. “Um, uh, Well… If I get mortally wounded, it heals faster. Even if it’s a fatal blow, my body regenerates.”

“What happens if you get decapitated, maimed, or burned alive?” Xander asks, curious.

Everyone looks at him. “What?! You were all thinking it.” Everyone nodded.

You chuckled. “Two words. Deadpool powers.”

Everyone nods. “That makes sense and ew.” Xander responded.

You stand there, still covered in blood answering question after question. Have you searched how to break the curse? Do you know what will give you peace? How many slayers have you met? Do you enjoy being eternal? You answered every question until they were satisfied. The conversation shifted to how 3 slayers could exist.

“It makes sense now how you knew so much about the occult.” Giles chimed in.

You grinned. “I dabble.” You say trying to be funny. A joke that landed flat due to the circumstances.

“I know this is weird. Me existing is weird but know that I didn’t mean harm. I’m just trying to figure out how to end this curse. I can’t be running around divulging my existence to every slayer. Having two slayers makes it easier to say that there is a third but still. You must understand where I’m coming from.”

The gang was quiet, pensive. “I think it’s best that you go. We can talk more about this tomorrow.” Giles stated.

“I know this is stupid, but do I still have a job?”

Giles glares at you. You raise your hands in a defensive stance. You decide it’s best to leave.

You walk home, alone. It’s the first time in the last three months that you were walking home alone. You felt tired and sad. Not only did you potentially lose your connection with the Scoobies, but you also lost who you considered to be your closest friend, Spike.  

Loud thrashing and banging can be heard inside the crypt. Spike is enraged and full of energy. Of course, the one person he wanted to lean on was a fake. Another illusion in his path. He felt like he could confide in her, trust her. She was no more than a liar, a con artist. To hell with her sob story. She hurt him. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t been honest himself, he did the best he could while obscuring the truth to protect her. To protect her! She would pay for making a fool of him. Everyone mocks him for his lack of vampire like behaviors. Everyone puts him down for failing at killing Buffy. But to made out to be a rube for trusting, for caring, that’s where he draws the line. He was vulnerable and he got paid in lies.

[denial-permanente]

Hey how are you? Big fan of your page and content. At the beginning of this year I confessed to my girlfriend of 6 years that I have a chastity fetish and I wanted her to lock my member up while we had our “fun time”. Surprisingly she was very open to the idea and we soon incorporated a chastity cage into our sex life. It has been amazing. It has opened a new side to me that I never knew existed. It took a bit of getting used to for the both of us but over time we have come to adore it. A majority of the time we have sex now my girlfriend instructs me to put my cage on before we begin.

A couple of weeks ago I brought up the idea of wearing the chastity cage for a longer period of time rather than only during our fun time. She interested with the idea but she believed it impossible.

For a little bit of context, we live together but due to work I’m only home from Friday nights when I get off of work till Monday mornings when I have to leave for work again.

Knowing this my girlfriend had quite a handful of concerns.

1. Her absolute biggest concern was she believed there was no way I could properly clean myself down there while locked in a cage. She says that wearing the cage for longer than a few hours at a time would be extremely de-hygienic and nasty.

2. Her next biggest concern is that since we only really see each other 2 days a week she thinks that there’s too much time between us seeing each other. “what if you NEED to get the cage off on a Monday, like an incident happens at work but we’re nowhere near each other and you have to wait all the way till Friday when you see me again?”

Because of this concern I tried to negotiate with what if I wore it during the weekends when I’m home. But then she rebuttals with “you basically already do so what difference would it make?”

3. A smaller concern for her is she is uncertain of the risks that come with wearing a chastity cage for long periods of time. An example she said was “what if you wore the cage for too long and your dick started to shrink?” I tried to tell her that that was just a myth but she seemed pretty adamant.

I guess my question is do you have any advice on what to do in this type of situation? Any words of wisdom that I could tell her in order to ease her mind about this? She says she would love to at least give it a try but she’s far too concerned about all the things that could go wrong. She says she thinks wearing a chastity cage for longer periods of time is just too unrealistic and isn’t possible.

It’s something that I’d love to do so should I try to talk to her about it again or just give up on the idea?

Believe it or not, I am probably like your girlfriend in that I worry about the practical aspects. For a very long time I would worry about what if my husband had an accident, or what if he had to remove it and didn't have the key. Even now, 25 years later I still sometimes worry if I know he's doing something dangerous like working on the roof or hiking in the woods or something. All I can say is that those concerns eventually get less and less concerning as time goes on and wearing a cage becomes second nature to the both of you.

I will let @that-tom-allen answer the part about hygiene and shrinkage, but in all these years that has never been a problem. I'm sure he can explain it better. I can tell you that I don't ever remember him having any issues.

A lot of men seem to want to rush into being lockedn24/7. Your girlfriend is being cautious and concerned. If she has a Tumblr account please have her message me for questions or even just moral support.

🔏 Tom here. First, as @mrs--edge wrote, if possible have your gf drop by to ask her soenof these questions directly. You can create an account for her, she doesn't need to be posting anything. Actually, considering some of the chastity related material on Tumblr, maybe you don't want her looking at too much. 😏

I don't know what kind of cage you have. My routine is to shower at night, and let things air dry. Then in the morning I put a dab of Gold Bond cream inside and swab it around with a Q tip. The cream is water soluble and will pick up body oil, sweat, stray urine, etc., and will wash out easily in a hot shower.

It also helps to have a tiny brush to swab around some soapy water inside the cage during your shower. I almost never need to unlock my cage to clean.

Now, about the shrinkage. I have a post on here about that. Check the FAQ for more detail, but here's the quickie: shrinkage is a myth, usually written about by guys who have SPH fetishes. The penis is not a muscle, and does not atrophy like muscle. It is mainly a meat hydraulic tube of connective tissue and blood vessels. Shrinkage is mainly a factor of the hydraulic balloons not having a chance to stretch out. Removing the cage and getting a few days of, err, healthy exercise should be sufficient to bring things back to size.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 25: All Hallows Eve - Sebastian Michaelis x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Fem!Reader

Warning: Not much, reader a little shaken from a horror film

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word count: N/A

Prompt: Reader and Sebastian are walking around the market square after watching a movie, not much of a plot, just a day out in preparation for Halloween.

Notes: I told you I’m out of ideas.

“To be fair, the film was rather crude Lady Y/N” Sebastian tried to comfort you, he promised you a day out this month and tonight would be the only night he would be able to take you to watch a little horror film while Ciel spent the day at the shops with lady Elizabeth, accompanied by Grell.

You wished you could say you enjoyed it, but really, you were horrified. Sebastian could absolutely notice, instead of making fun of you or taunting you the way that maybe Ciel or Grell would’ve, he opted to attempt to make you feel better.

“Yeah. I thought so too.”

You hugged yourself as you walked down the paved path, you dared not to look at the tall demon in suit beside you. You were embarrassed and just wanted to go home. Even if there was nothing really to be ashamed of.

“The human body wouldn’t bleed like that when wounded in those areas, it’s all dramatized. Please do try to remember that when reliving the memory.”

You knew this was his attempt and if anyone knew anything about something this gory, it was Sebastian. Your breathing steadied by this point, picking your head up slightly to look at the road in front of you. There were pumpkins and orange leaves everywhere, people handing out candy and kids with costumes running around. The bakeries smelt of pie and apples with a hint of cinnamon.

“Besides, I would never let anything happen to you. I solemnly swear.” He murmured in a lower tone to you. The reminder made your face flush, still looking forward until you gathered up enough courage to look at him. A smile crept across your face as he matched yours.

You never had to ask him to clarify or swear on anything, you probably wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for him and for his team saving you from many close calls.

“Come, I hear your stomach rumbling. You must be famished”

Another reason for the blush to resist leaving when he mentioned it. You followed right next to him, it was killing you not to hug him or hold his hand but you knew it was more than frowned upon. Just like with Ciel, he refused to allow you any more sweets until you’ve eaten “real food” something nutritious is all he meant.

You really couldn’t care less of where he took you, refusing to use much of your brain around him.

“Seb- are vampires real?” Your eyes traced up to his figure, your thick lashes blinked and pupils expanded when meeting him. There was a comfortable silence between you two for a second before his glaze looked down to you. “Hmm. If they are, I have yet to meet them.” His eyes narrowed as he looked towards the outer frame of the square.

Another comfortable silence came over you two. “Is it just demons then?”

“And angels, but what’s the difference?” He raised an eyebrow as he glanced to you, a mischievous laugh forming upon his lips.

He looked so beautiful with the orange decor around him. It really brought out his features, funny enough. Sebastian’s fingertips swept a few strands of hair away from his face as you continued your walk, making a turn into a comforting cafe. “Come on, if you finish your dish, we may order something sweet as a reward.”

[factual-fantasy]

25 asks! Thank you! :)) 💥

How SWEET and GENEROUS he is?? ...Gorl, no.. 💔.. when I rewatched transformers prime the second time around, I had this thought running through my head during every episode I watched. Starting from episode 1,

"Okay, so I know in season 3 somewhere Knockout becomes an Autobot. I'm not sure how, but I cant wait to pick up on all the little hints and details leading up to that that make you think Knockout might not be a con/is a kind person. Like sparing someone when he wasn't supposed to, or treating someone's wounds when he didn't have to. Or deliberately letting one of the human children get away because he didn't want to hurt them. Those are all things you could make a Decepticon do to lead the viewer to think they might not be a con."

You know what we got instead? Any opportunity he's had to backstab someone, save his own skin, knock people down, hurt people, unnecessarily toy with people and upset them, get away with wrong doings and making himself look better no matter the cost to others? He absolutely took it with no hesitation.

I need some clearer evidence, like screenshots and gifs because I just do not see him as a good person. He doesn't take his job seriously or care about his patients, he just likes getting to rip people apart while being protected by the Decepticon army.

I'm not trying to start an argument or crap all over a character you seem to like- I'm just trying to say I absolutely do not know what you're talking about. I would like to have my mind changed about Knockout so I can more easily fit him into my AU as an Autobot💔So I'm open to further explanation about Knockout.

(I had planned to just completely wipe away Knockouts character and build a new personality for him because he's just Decepticon all the way to his core.)

@ardent-38 (Referencing this post)

Thank you so much! :DD And ngl that might be the only option if I wanna add Jetfire. Hmm.. I'll have to think about it..

Maybe Ravage would do that.? <XDD

Its hard to say, I can hardly remember what Gersons character is like <:/

(The gif is hidden because its not my artwork to share. Its a tall Seam grabbing a tiny Jevil by the face and yeeting him up into the sky)

They would be quite shocked and be sure to keep Jevil away from that Seam <XDD

Funny you should say that. A while ago I thought about making a comic talking about how Jangles is technically adopted because while I made the other three from scratch, I bought Jangles from a store and dolled him up.

But in the end I never finished the comic because of dried up motivation and I didn't want to give Jangles the title of "adopted". Partly because he actually lines up with other sonas of mine and sometimes looks more related to me than Bibi does. Plus idk it just didn't feel fun/right to call him that.

(Link in ask)

Bibi would be less likely do anything that annoys me. So Cici might go cause trouble with Gerald instead XD

"Why am I not on it??"

"You have no transmission.. or engine rn..."

"Oh yeah- 💀"

@florafandoms

You are right, its been so long I cant remember what inspirations I had for that comic <XD If any-

And thank you, they're gonna get tough as this depressive episode/brain fog/????/artblock gets worse. But hey I can at least try to try. 👍

Oh absolutely, with all the kids but Miko and Jack especially.

I feel like Miko never got a moment to connect with Optimus. And There was so much trust and responsibility placed on Jack that felt like it came out of nowhere. I wish he would have spent a lot more time with Optimus before that so the viewer would understand why Optimus picked him <:/

Also thank you so much! <:)))

@glitchhayden418

XDD Thank you! (?? Don't start world war 3 please💗)

I have no measurement of time when it comes to the Autobots. In human years I have no idea how old they are, how often they need to sleep, how often they need to refuel, nun of that. Do transformers even have designated sleeping times and "all nighters"??

If they do, maybe the human equivalent of 3 days..?

@badlyblurry

Prime would have been perfect if Arachnid and Breakdown had swapped places. Where Breakdown killed Arachnid instead and her remains were dragged off by MECH.

@misscherrypie (Image is from this post)

I know I should put some kind of notice thing on my phone or somewhere, but I know I wont. 🤷 I'll just forget again next year and it'll make for a funny post I guess.

And I've thought about giving them lore and making comics about them, but ultimately I don't have the motivation for that kind'a stuff anymore. At least not atm. 😔

@deimos21

I watch Markiplier and Ethan play it a little bit ago. I cant remember what the enemies were like but the little playable robots are too funny XDD

@wolfie-777

XDD "Hop". I hop your Easter was good this year too! :)

@smithanonsworld

Happy (late) Easter! :DD

Honestly fair XD

That's exactly what Bash Buggy did XDD

Ehh... I don't think so. Why would I bother talking about the fandom/series that's made me so uncomfortable? I'd rather just keep all my Octonauts artwork/opinions private.

@beryl-shade

Well for starters,,, In the humans mind they couldn't start the "car" without a key. So the bot could just stay shut down and not move until the human realized they cant start it and go away.

If they tried to hot wire the car and started prying at the plating, the bot could probably kick them out of the cab by transforming their seats and shoving them out the door with them. Then they would just drive away.

Who cares if this human runs off and tells anyone about this haunted car that drove off by itself? Is anyone gonna believe anything the whacko who tried to steal a car has to say? No reason for the bots to chase after him.

But alllllll that aside. If the human got inside and somehow "started" the car or it was already running, I can imagine the bot faking a backfire or shutting themselves down and pretending not to start until the human leaves. 👍

I have certainly heard of it, but I've never watched it <:/

AAAA THAT'S SO COOL! :DDD I hope it goes well for you! :))

(Referencing this post)

Oh yeah I forgot he did that to Bulk XD Maybe the only people he'd struggle with is Optimus, Megatron and Ultra Magnus because of their weight and fighting experience.

And I cant see TFP Ratchet ever being like that. But its crazy to hear he was like that in the comics! XDD

@silverscale (Images from this post)

Nooooo don't zoom in you can see all my coloring mistakes <XDD

[yuri-is-online]

Bitch the Pot (Trey Clover x Reader)

Trey's birthday is coming up and you really want to buy him a present.

But what if he doesn't want it? What if he just thinks of your efforts as annoying, or even worse what if he sees right through you and makes things awkward. What if he stashes things away and makes fun of them later, years later when he barely remembers your name.

What if he's secretly looking forward to your presence and hasn't even considered he'd be lucky enough to get a gift. What if... what if...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, we're going to hurt comfort town choo choo mother fuckers, I am using the Hitchhiking Ghost names for the Ramshackle Ghosts because I am unoriginal, the more I think about Trey the more I realize Idia is right, Trey's a skethcy mfer and yeah that's hot. If you like this check out my masterlist for more fic.

You didn't want to indulge Trey's teeth thing.

Sure it will make him happy, smooth over all your little insecurities pricking at your heart as you poke through the second hand store for what you had thought would be a really cute idea on your way here but now weren't so sure about. Besides you are pretty sure that everyone else is going to buy him a bundle of floss and call it a day, well other than Rook who has been waxing poetic about how he had "the most fitting cap for the Rose Chevalier" so all the more reason to put a little less of a personal interest into your gifting and more of a thoughtful touch.

As thoughtful as you could afford anyway. You aren't even sure Trey likes these sorts of things, though that worry is sort of drowned by how surprised you are to find nice looking china in Crane Port's equivalent of a Good Will. There is a nice selection of tea cups, mismatched saucer plates, and the odd pot sat all by its lonesome all with neatly written prices on stickers you don't look forward to scrubbing off.

Afternoon Tea Special~ Pick one Pot, 4 cups w/ saucers, creamer, and sugar bowl: all for just 25 T!

Cute, and not a bad idea you supposed even if it did feel a bit overkill. Your original intention had just been to pick up a sugar bowl and maybe one cup, something for him to put candies in that had a lid so no flies could get at his violets. But it really would be a shame to pass up such a nice deal and hey, if Trey didn't like it he could just ditch it with the Heartslabyul kitchenware once he graduated and never speak to you again.

"Oh this is such a cute little selection!" The lady at the counter's eyes practically sparkle as she carefully wraps up your choices in tissue paper.

"It's a birthday gift." You can't help but mumble and the sparkle flutters out to her entire body, ah that's right, this lady always did look a bit bored when you came in. It seems like you have fed her and her knitting circle for the rest of the week.

"Well then this won't to at all." She huffs and stops wrapping up your order and bends under her counter, the tell tale ruffles of paper and boxes sounding oddly comforting as she produces what you think is a hat box and proudly begins to organize the mismatched set and fetches out even more tissue paper. "Must be for someone important with how long you've been eyeing up a sugar bowl." She wiggles her eye brows. You try to keep your focus on said bowl, you didn't realize she'd been watching you but then again you have been coming down here every spare weekend to stare at it. This shop was nice, it had a bunch of cheap clothes and nick knacks that were used sure, but a life saver for someone from a completely different world. If the lady is thankfully not offended by your silence. She simply tacks your receipt to the box and sends you off with a wink.

"Thank you for your purchase! Please come back soon!" And tell me all bout it! You swear she says it but you don't hear it, too much blood is thrumming in your ears

The hat box is not out of place among the gifts on the party table, so trey doesn't have an excuse to stare at it even if his eyes keep coming back to it. It's lavender, plain save for the cream bow he hopes Yuu tied around it, and had been decently heavy when he picked it up before Cater scolded him about playing favorites.

"Be a good Senior and eat the cookies we made for you until Riddle brings out the cake." He flicks his nose with a knowing look. "Normal people save the best for last right? I'm sure Yuu-yuu will be fine with waiting, since they can barely look at you today~" And of course like a fool he whips his head to look, startling them and proving Cater's point as they immediately scurry back to Ace and Deuce.

"Screw you." He's only half joking but Cater's fully laughing and probably already took a picture. "I'm just worried they felt like they needed to bring a gift I would have been happy just to-"

"No you wouldn't have." For someone who likes lying to himself Cater really doesn't seemed thrilled with his choice to gaslight himself. "You would have spent the rest of the night thinking 'ooooh it'd be really nice if I got something from Yuu, I wonder if they hate meeee, I should make sure they think I don't care about helping them some more so they leave me alone and I don't have to think about how nice it would be to-'"

"Cater!" Trey has never been so grateful to hear Riddle yell about anything in his life. "Could you please help me with the cake? I was going to ask Yuu but they had to go back to Ramshackle."

"Yuu's back at Ramshackle?" Trey reaches to adjust his glasses, trying to ground himself.

"Yes, they said they were feeling sick and-" That's all Trey registers, though he hears the rest "went back to lie down, Grim insisted on staying to make sure the food didn't get them sick." It's his party, he can't just leave that would be an extreme violation of the rules but Cater's earlier accusation comes back to him. Make them think I won't care about them. It's not intentional, he thinks it's obvious he always will but then again-

"Fifteen minutes." Cater whispers under his breath.

"Thirty."

"You're delusional." Still Cater doesn't sound mad. "Eighteen."

"Twenty." He's already snatched up the hat box and making his way towards the doors.

~~~~

"Awww Yuu." Phineas would pat your head if he could. "I'm sure it's not that bad, you're just overthinking things."

"Yeah I think anyone would be happy to get a gift from you!" Gus tries, all three ghosts perking up slightly when you smile just a bit at his encouragement. "And if not then well..."

"I know I'm just being dramatic but I couldn't stand waiting anymore." You don't mention how Ace and Deuce had been teasing you, not wanting to relive the absolute embarrassment of having been caught staring at their Vice-Warden one too many times for dots to remain unconnected. "I asked Grim to bring back some cake but I don't know if he'll remember."

"Oooh let's take bets on it!" Ezra cheers and a familiar, unexpected laugh interrupts sending the ghosts scattering and leaving you at the mercy of a familiar face.

"I think it's safe to say that would be a pretty obvious bet." Trey sets the hat box on your coffee table, folding his strong arms and firmly sticking a lump in your throat. "You should have bet on me."

"Returning your gift is not bringing me something." You huff and Trey has the decency to look a bit awkward.

"I'm not here to return it, there's rules to gifts you know." Oh no. "For example, on our birthdays, the Queen of Hearts says we get to ask for anything we want." He finally moves, unfortunately for you he's decided to use his height to his advantage and lean over the table to crowd you back into the couch. "And I spent a long time thinking about what I should ask for from you."

"Um- I well-" You're looking everywhere but him now, as if you were before. "I did get you a gift though?" He laughs.

"And you ran away before I could thank you." Trey begins to unwrap the ribbons, slowly as if he's waiting for you to look at him but not wanting to deny his curiosity any longer. "But that doesn't change the rules. Sorry, I didn't make them."

The sugar bowl is the first piece he finds, the shop lady has to have set it on top on purpose. His eyebrows raise, not in disappointment you think, curiosity hopefully as he slowly opens the rest of them.

"Sorry." You immediately say to fill the space out of habit, and Trey stops his examination to look up at you.

"What for?" He picks up the sugar bowl, just as amused as you with the clover flowers patterned across it in a nice twist on his name and half the accessories he owns. "Don't tell me you want this stuff back, its mine now."

"No! I'm glad you like," you cringe at the question in your tone and cower at the smirk on Trey's face "I mean I hope you like it."

"A hand picked tea set from the Ramshackle Prefect? It's perfect. Especially for a birthday gift for me." He carefully wraps up the cups and their saucers, silence once again falling over the room as you wonder why he hasn't called you out on your lie, the self doubt suggesting he hadn't noticed. "I meant what I said earlier you know."

"What, about making demands of me?" You say.

"Hey chill I only sort of meant it like that." He doesn't even bother trying to hide his amusement. "I mean betting on me. I know it might sound strange to hear me say, but I do have things I think are worth extra effort. And if I have to put in a lot of it to get you to understand that I am glad you are in my life, then I'll just have to do that." So he did know you weren't sick, and was just dancing around the subject to be polite as usual.

"Happy birthday Trey." Because what else are you supposed to say, and he tries his best to not let his disappointment show as he takes his opened gift back to the rose garden. "I'm- I hope you have a nice time at your party."

He pauses at the threshold of your dorm, the wicked smile returning. "I think I know what I want to ask you to do."

"Oh no." You did not mean to say that out loud.

"Mhm. But you are going to have to come back to Heartslabyul to hear it, but after the party, we can use our cups." Our cups he says, as if you had picked out any cups that were supposed to represent you.

He noticed, of course Trey noticed that there was no trace of Yuu in this very you gift. But he could fix that, if you would just give him a chance. And maybe get the calm celebration he actually wants when you do.

[shun-zam]

Okay so I talked about this at length before but bakugan is really ambitious with the story it is telling in the length of time that it has.

In 52 episodes we meet our 6 main character, 5 main bakugan. But that’s not all. You have the masquerade and his bakugan, the rival crew and their bakugan (five more human and bakugan pairs to meet and learn the dynamics of) Christopher, Joe and Wavern. It’s a very bloated cast. And with a cast that size it’s amazing that so many characters got to shine and have arcs/character growth in the time that they had. They were very efficient and I’m still amazed.

However if I may fly close to the sun. As we are in the land scape of reboots let us look at a retelling instead. Because the main problem with Bakugan season 1 is it’s two short.

“But 52 episode isn’t short” you’re right. But think of what we could do if we had more time.

Like I said I’ve talked about this before but allow me to go again.

Take episodes 1-25 and expand them to be a full 52 episode season 1.

1-13 is fine this introduces our cast and their dynamics.

Episodes 14 - 18 is where the expansion happens. This is the segment where Billy, Chan-Lee, Klause, Julio, and Komba are working for Masquarde. Expand this. Have them be evil longer. And take down time (yes I know they didn’t have this because the goal isn’t sell toys but let me house on substance)

We end 18 like normal. Preyus is gone. Marucho is big sad. Let the Brawlers split up. But instead of Julie instantly going after Billy and freeing him, milk it.

Things to accomplish in no order.

Runo and Marucho centered episode (no Dan to the rescue) Runo trying to comfort Marucho when they are attacked by let’s say Chan-Lee and they have to work together to win. Bonus points if Alice is with them helping them strategize. Marucho is brawling for the first time in a long time without Preyus, he will need the help and support. Let them be friends supporting each other.

That brings up another part, as soon as Alice is present she is tagging along for Brawls. I mean from the airport episode onward. They say she is the team’s strategist, show me. Have her helping them with strategy and as the show goes onward the Brawlers need her help less and less. This shows the growth of the Brawlers as Characters while also make Alice an integral member of the team.

Dan and Shun’s fight. Make it last longer. Dan and Julie go off and face Komba.

Shun and Alice go off and get attacked by Julio. (We never see these match ups in the show and it would be fun to put their styles against each other)

Dan and Shun reunite and apologize (both were jerks) just in time for Billy and Klause to show up. Julie tries to get Billy to Brawl her/talk to her but Klause has no interest in collecting Gorem (yet) and Billy is still under the negative influence. Maybe Billy says something about his and Julie’s friendship being meaningless. Julie is obviously upset and Dan and Shun step in. The duel allows the two of them to parallel their own childhood friendship with Julie and Billy’s and that even though they went through a rough patch/circumstances changed (Shun’s mom died) their friendship still means a lot to them. Just line Billy’s friendship means a lot to Julie. It’s not enough to get through to Billy but it helps Julie feel less alone.

We met Julie’s sister. This does not have to be a Brawl. This can be as simple at her calling to check in on Julie and the Audience seeing how inferior Julie feels compared to her sister. (This can also be shown by her parent checking in and comparing the two girls, or by Billy being up Julie’s “perfect sister” as a way to taunt her) either way I want her brought up and stationed as this impossible standard that Julie feels she can never reach.

I also want Marucho’s parents to check in and for Marucho to struggle between pleasing them and being a Brawler. This is especially hard as he does not currently have Preyus.

Let this happen in the same episode. Let Julie and Marucho bond over having impossible standards thrusted upon them. Let them brawl together (I don’t think we ever see them tag battle)

Runo is still upset with Dan or something and her and Julie get into an argument. The two later get into a tag team brawl. Use this as a chance to show how Runo’s stubbornness can get them into trouble but also as a way to show the girls bonding as they work together. (Let them talk about something besides Dan)

Just more character interactions. More emphasis on their friendships. Dan and Shun’s childhood. Marucho getting support. Bring up the focus of Julie and Marucho’s trials earlier so that they hit harder later. INCLUDE ALICE MORE. Let Runo shine in more than just her relationship with Dan.

Also show their ranks going up (make it a big deal like the bounties in one piece)

(Again I know why the show moves so fast (toys) but let character relationships and dynamics matter)

Episode 19-22 is when the brawlers beat the rival crew for the last time. These match ups remain the same. And just think how much harder the Preyus reveal will hit if their is more time to see how his absence effects not only Marucho but the whole team (Runo’s fears about losing Tigrerra). Julie still saves Billy with the power of friendship. Shun still (unwillingly) gains a student in Komba. Dan, Runo and Marucho still fight in the triple battle.

End the season in one of two ways.

1) the Joe episodes.

Durning everything about they should still be suspicious of Joe.

The reveal of Hoe as a good guy and the reveal of Wavern powers should be a big moment.

End the season wondering who the Spy is and make it super dramatic that it is one of the Brawlers. One of the characters we just spent 52 episodes with.

2) end it on cannon episode 27

The second to last episode shows all the rivals being beaten by Masquerade

The last episode is Dan throwing himself into the doom dimension.

Let me know if you want the second half of this nonsense. I’ve talked about it a bit already, but I currently am on the last part of my Battle Brawlers rewatch and will be able to add more detail later

[huggingtentacles]

Godfrey would be a better encounter if he either took himself less seriously or didn't talk. He's trying really hard to be badass especially in phase 2 but it just falls flat for me. He looks like he's trying too hard.

Imagine a world where he embodied the utterly un-serious attitude strength builds have a reputation of having in fromsoft games? Like you know the naked guy with a club is the strongest player you've ever met?

Imagine if he smiled or shown to have fun with the fight. He's trying to be all edgy and no funny. He could be an iconic homage to fromsoft culture but he's just a very angry grandpa.

But if that's not the mood fromsoft were going for by the end of the game I get it, maybe Gideon is supposed to be more of a joke. But at least make him silent. None of his lines land for me.

"T'was nobly fought" bossman I have 25 FPS on my PS4 when you start stomping and I'm fighting you with a torch. Get a grip.

"Now I fight as Hoarah Loux, WARRIAAAAH" This would sound much cooler if you weren't trying to be edgy. The voice actor put his entire pussy into this line, I bet they had more fun with that than you ever had in your life.

"The crown is warranted with strength" buddy I'm a Dex build and you're Marika's ex-boytoy. What are you doing here. Couldn't you just go get a hobby.

[pjisskullourful]

𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

🌼Damiano × reader

part 25 of ??? [parts 1-24]

NSFW 🔥 bigtime horny kitty energy, much dirtiness [⚠️potential trigger warning: body image issues]

° Damiano David/female reader insert

wordcount:: 12,602

° all of the requests!! a secret friend on here wanted shower sex, a reader on ao3 asked for thigh riding& an anon sent in: What do you think of the girlfriend being jealous of somebody going after/ flirting with Damiano? Given who he is I bet it would happen and I think It would be fun to see how you would play that out. Cause I can see Damiano being real cocky about his girl getting all possessive over him and then having some ✨fun time ✨ with her to show her she’s the only one for him 😍 [requests are open! but commisions are priority, secure the 5th spot in my cue here!]

° none of the lyrics included belong to me[×]

You paused from closing the fly on your high-waisted pants - you had been trying on the outfit you wanted to wear to dinner tonight, but something had caught your eye, distracting you.

A jagged, dark line reached up from just above the waistband of your underwear. This stretch mark was brand new to your eyes. It hit you like an actual wound, your mind racing.

As your throat clenched, you stopped caring about checking that your choice of outfit was cute or not. You hated this intruder on the side of your tummy. This new line was a failure on your part, maybe if you weren’t so lazy, or spent less time playing video games, you could have avoided gaining another mark in your ugly collection. You were frozen with the top of your pants in your hands.

How long had this mark been on your body? Had Damiano seen it - what did he think when he looked at it?

This was supposed to be a fun day - the day before Easter, and some friends of his were hosting a dinner that would end in an egg hunt through their garden. You were going to be meeting more of the people he had grown up with. But most importantly, you were getting to spend the whole weekend with him, there hadn’t been many of those so far this year. There was no Måneskin-business to take him out of the country, he was just your boyfriend this weekend.

You didn’t want to waste any of this precious time with your insecurities. You wished you hadn’t seen the line, because it hadn’t been as simple as noticing it. You were having a full reaction to it. The change of mood inside of you was almost a tangible sensation.

You didn’t know how to resolve it, you just knew that you wanted the unpleasantness to stop. Your  solution was to physically move away from it. You undressed without completing the try-on process, so desperate to walk away and pretend this negativity didn’t exist. You just needed to refresh yourself and then you would be able to get back on the right track.

“I’m gonna have a shower.” You loudly announced without knowing if he actually heard you. He might be outside having a cigarette, or otherwise occupied too far from the bedroom.

You went into the bathroom and stopped at the vanity, pulling your hairbrush out of a draw. You took your hair down and started brushing through any tangles. Standing in front of the wide mirror, it wasn’t easy to keep your concentration on your hair. Your eyes wanted to wander, to find other flaws in the reflection to tear yourself apart over.

Until you were given the perfect distraction. Your boyfriend came into the room, his figure filling the reflection behind you. He was dressed in only a pair of underwear, wearing a festive headband on top of his short hair. It was enough to make you smile, even though you had to feign annoyance.

“Take those off.” You said as sternly as you could manage.

“You got it, baby.” He said, promptly taking his briefs off.

You were amused, even as you rolled your eyes. You turned your back on the mirror, more than happy to put all of your attention on him. “I meant the bunny ears and you know it.”

The fuzzy rabbit ears remained fixed on his head as he furrowed his brow. “I’m confused, do you want me to put the underwear back on?”

“Damiano.” You warned, but this only resulted in getting him to say your name back to you, in a sing-songy way, delivered with a positively devilish smile. “I never should have let you take the ears from my office…”

His eyes grew wide and he pointed an accusing finger at you. “You were the one who took them.”

You let this unserious discussion progress, exaggerating your shock. “How dare you accuse me.”

“No, how dare you. I was just there to pick you up from work. You were the one who pulled them out of the cute little window display and put them on my head.” He said.

“I didn’t think you were going to walk out still wearing them. And I was kind of distracted, I was working.” You added to his recollection. “Now, you have to take them off before they get stretched or broken ‘cause I’ve gotta put them back, they’ll probably be part of next year’s Easter display.”

He resisted, still. “I like them. You have to agree that they look better on me than they did in the window.”

“I agree.” You said. “Now take them off.”

The thing that was stopping you from simply snatching the accessory off of him, was the knowledge of how getting too close to him would change this situation entirely. He could physically overpower you in an instant and any illusion of you having some control would be banished.

“You can ask nicer than that, kitty.” He said, very clearly enjoying this teasing.

“Can you please take the ears off for me, please and thank you.” You said, even clasping your hands together in front of yourself to further sell it.

He cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t hear a single word you said. It’s kinda hard to hear you over all of those clothes you’re wearing.”

You reminded yourself how much you enjoyed being called a ‘good girl’ as inspiration to help you bite back any sarcastic comments. You even resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

You removed the two items that you were wearing - a bra and a pair of panties. You cupped your hands to either side of your mouth and spoke at a much higher volume. “Can you hear me now?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, did you have a request for me or something?”

“Can you please take those ears off for me, please?” You asked.

“Why, of course I can.” He said, plucking the accessory off of his head. “Here you go.”

You snatched it out of his hand, holding it securely in both of yours. “I’m gonna find someplace to hide these from you.”

“I can’t imagine why you would think that’s necessary. I’ll get the shower started while you do that, shall I?”

This made you pause from leaving the room. “Oh, you’re joining me?”

“Yeah, unless that’s not okay? I thought we should shower together, to save water.” He said.

You smirked. “To save water. Yep, that’s fine.”

You carried the confiscated item over to where you kept your work bag. It was enough to put it into your bag and shut the zipper. If he pulled it out of there he would be in the wrong - you’d both know it, and any argument would be in your favour.

When you returned to the bathroom, it was to find him standing under the stream of water. You were further distracted from your earlier issues as you admired how great he looked when soaking wet.

He turned his head and smiled at the sight of you, beckoning you in with a curling of his finger. You stepped in, sliding the door shut behind yourself. You shouldn’t have been surprised when he was instantly drawing you in for kisses, his hands cradling your face. There were times when the two of you could share a focused shower, spending as much time washing yourselves as you did making out.

But the look he had given you had indicated that this wasn’t the case for today. You linked your arms around his waist, indulging in this as the noise of the persistent water blocked out everything else. You felt how easy it would be to melt as his mouth worked tenderly against yours.

His hands left your face, slowly moving down to where the water had already reached. He started to kiss his way off of your mouth, his lips pressing against your chin before going lower. You couldn’t help arching your back into him as his lips worked across your throat. This was the closeness that you absolutely ached for when he was away, showers (like pretty much everything else) were so dull without him.

But -

“I need to wash my hair. This shower was supposed to have purpose.” You said.

He stopped what he was doing to look up at you. “Nobody’s stopping you from washing your hair. Look, I’ll even help. I’ve got lots of time to help with washing your hair these days.”

“I could return the favour and use my volumising shampoo on your hair.” You said of his well maintained buzzcut.

He wore a deadpan expression, blinking at you. “Hilarious. I swear, you’ve missed your calling in life. You shouldn’t be doing admin work- stand-up comedy, that’s where you should be. Netflix would give you a special so fast.”

“Because I’m a special girl.” You said as he let go of you to grab the shampoo bottle.

The intimacy wasn’t totally lost in this process. The two of you remained standing very close together (even though there was ample room for each of you in here) and you took every opportunity to touch him.

When he began to massage the shampoo into your scalp, you could have let out a moan of pleasure. You shut your eyes and soaked up every second of his attentiveness. His fingers slowly dragging across your scalp was the only thing that you needed right now.

“Stop making that face.” He said, his voice so stern that your eyes instantly snapped open, you were practically ready to apologise at once. “That’s a sex face and if you keep it up you’re gonna get me hard, which isn’t the purpose of this shower, right?”

You almost began giggling, you covered your face with both of your hands. “I didn’t mean to. I, I guess I was enjoying myself a little too much.”

“I’ll say.”

You parted your fingers to peek at him. “Did I really do a sex face?”

“Oh, yes. If you want me to get specific- it was your edging face. When I see that face I know that I’m doing it right and your brain is getting all empty.” He said before instructing you to tilt your head back under the stream of water.

As he rinsed all of the product out of your hair, you physically cringed. “Oh my God, I hope I don’t make that face when they’re washing my hair at the hairdressers.”

“Relax baby, I’m the only one who knows that face is linked to naughtiness.” He said.

You tried your best to stay in constant awareness, and control, over your facial expressions as he conditioned your hair. The lack of massaging on your scalp kept you from that floaty feeling.

“What do you think, is that up to your standards?” He asked, losing the careful look on his face that he had been wearing during this task.

You tested his work by running your fingers through the ends of your hair. “It feels perfect. Thank you, Daddy.” You reached out to tap the end of his nose.

“Okay, your hair is washed, what other purposes did this shower have?” He asked.

You smiled, your feet almost overlapping his on the wet ground and you wrapped an arm around his neck. "Do you want to see more of my sex faces?"

"Duh." He said, both of his hands going to your cheeks as he brought you in for kisses.

You wrapped your other arm around his middle, holding him close as you stood chest-to-chest. His fingers caressed your cheeks as his tongue slid back-and-forth along the seam of your lips. You endeavoured to get as much of your body pressed against his as possible. You relaxed your jaw, allowing his tongue into your mouth as you began to explore his body with your hands.

One of his hands left your face, meanwhile you were reaching between the two of you. You were half-anticipating where you would be feeling his hand next, but mostly you were concentrating on his little reactions as your hand travelled down lower.

You were interrupted, breaking the kiss with a gasp when the water hitting your shoulders became shockingly cold. The chill sank beneath the surface instantly and you were rattled beyond logic at first. Your eyes snapped open, searching for more information.

“Are you trying to get me out of the shower?” You asked, glancing over your shoulder to where his fingers were fixed around the hot water faucet, and he wasn’t turning it up. “Because you can just say if you don’t wanna fuck in here, I-...”

“No, it’s not that. This is gonna increase your blood flow, my fucktoy is gonna get more sensitive in less time.” As you listened to his explanation, it felt like the stream of water was getting colder still.

His hand left the dial and he held his fingers up, letting the water hit them straight away. “But if you don’t wanna fuck in here.” His eyes were set on you as he took his hand out of the stream, bringing it towards his body. “I don’t mind relocating, but I think you’ll find, if you trust me- you’ll find this very enjoyable.”

To correspond with this final word, he pushed his fingers in between your labia majora and an icy touch greeted your clit. Your gut twisted and your heart lifted as you tightened your arm around him. The intensity was immediate, making you feel as if your nerves were already on the verge of fraying as he started working the hood with his cold fingers. Your hand moved across the coarse hair on the back of his head as your eyes fluttered shut.

You couldn’t fill your lungs and you were too caught off-guard to form any coherent thoughts. “Hu-mmph…”

“That’s what I thought you’d say.” He commented and you could hear the smile on his lips before you saw it.

He began to move his fingers up-and-down your slit. You gradually came back into yourself, regaining some scraps of control. You could form thoughts again, thinking beyond what he was doing with his fingers, thinking to his pleasure.

This time when you reached between your bodies, you followed through, not stopping until you could wrap your fingers around his stiffened dick. The way he was looking into your eyes seemed to egg you on and you started to stroke, slowly at first.

You were positioned more beneath the shower head than him, the driving water was impossible for you to escape. The cold didn’t just prompt dramatic goosebumps, it cut through any of the potential noise that could rise up in your mind. With your heart racing, you concentrated solely on all of these sensations, fully locked into the experience. It didn’t seem that he was going to move you out of the stream anytime soon, forcing you to embrace the way those persistent droplets made your skin sting a little.

Your nipples felt as hard as rocks when he closed his mouth around one of the peaks. The pleasure rushed through you, the strongest wave yet, which made your legs feel a little weak. You grasped to the back of his head, at the same time your other hand moved faster on his dick.

He traded off one of his hands for the other on your pussy, these fingers were freshly chilled and you let out another surprised gasp. You didn’t care about catching your breath, too preoccupied by delighting in every swirl of his fingers around your clitoris. The excitement crackled in the air all around you as he sucked on your nipple.

You arched your back to press more of your body to him, your needs growing. You rushed ahead, too eager to be content with more foreplay. Thankfully he didn’t subdue you, going along with it when you began guiding his dick towards your entrance.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you as you lifted a foot from the wet ground, spreading your cunt further and applying more of your weight to his body. You drew in a quick, shallow breath as his tip stretched your cunt as needed. In stark contrast to the water, a primal heat was born into you, radiating out from your cunt.

He transferred his mouth to your other nipple, heating you up here too. He wrapped his fingers around your thigh so that he could hold your knee against his hip. You were rocking yourself forward, his cock filling you as you sought more of his body to grind against.

He was short on breath as he looked up at you, watching how you continued to move. You bit into your lower lip, hoping that he wasn’t about to exert his dominance by making you stop, because this was starting to feel so good.

“Damn, you’re very keen to show me those sex faces, aren’t you babygirl?” He asked, his tone thankfully free of any disapproval.

“Yes.” You said over the continuous pelting of water on tiles.

“Show them to me.” He said, gripping your squishy thigh harder. “Show me.”

“Yes.” It came out a little less clearly this time and your eyes fluttered shut.

You stroked yourself up-and-down his shaft, working yourself into a pace that you hoped you could maintain. The water was freezing the bare skin on your back, but his body was heating your front and you lived in these oppositions. The cold made you more grateful for the warmth, made you keener to notice it in your body. You chased it with more determined thrusting, delivering your hips to his.

His lips left your nipple, ravishing your throat instead. You didn’t raise a complaint over the possibility of him creating a hickey that so many strangers would see, you were too locked into the good for that. And so was he, his moans vibrating against your skin.

His approval inspired you to gain more speed, caring less about how slippery the floor was. The concerns couldn’t stand up to how spectacular every collision felt, with your body crying out for more - always more.

A loud whimper ripped free from your throat in response to cold suddenly engulfing your nipple. You were surprised out of your momentum, even forgetting to breathe for a second. Your mouth hung open as you looked down and identified the cause, his freshly chilled fingers pinching either side of the peak. His eyes were on you, not missing a single reaction, he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

As you were somewhat settling into this sensation, the intensity shot up by him fucking into you. Your mouth remained agape as he followed this with more fast thrusts. He was establishing a rhythm, one of his hands grasping your ass so that he could continuously bring you forward on his dick. His other hand remained on your breast, maintaining that firm, cold grip on your nipple, which had the potential to drive you crazy.

You let all of the desperation go straight to your head, wrapping your arms around him as your release became the only thing you cared about. You wondered if he would make you wait, the thought of that made your legs want to give out.

“Oh, Daddy.” You whined as you made the effort to move with him, your body filled with frenetic energy as you chased his tempo. “Fuck, Daddy, Daddy…”

Every clenching of your cunt had you plunging deeper into the pleasure, as every collision of your bodies felt more significant than the previous. The cold water slapped your skin relentlessly, competing for attention with all of these other grand sensations.

His breathing came in heavier-and-heavier, accompanied by the occasional moans as he refused to quit working you over. His movements were consistent as he got all that he could out of this angle. You clung to him, riding out every high that he gave to you.

Between your sensitive walls you could feel how swollen his driving cock had become. And soon it was leaking inside of you. At first it was a bit of extra warmth in your pussy. Then it was an unignorable rush that was coating you as his jerking got faster.

“Ah-hu… uh, unf.” He gasped as he saw out the entirety of his orgasm deep inside of you.

You felt how he pulsed as you remained in motion. He released your nipple, just wrapping his arms around you to support you through your continuing rocking. As your eyes fluttered, unable to stay completely open, you saw how he watched you, taking in every facial expression that this sex was bringing out of you.

You reached your highest peak, slamming your body into him as you allowed yourself to come undone. You threw your head back, the stinging water hitting your face as you were stunned by your climax. The cold kept you from floating away, instead you were extremely conscious of how your body was being dazzled by this pleasure.

You felt the oxygen rushing through your blood and you were rejuvenated as you started to come down. You found yourself smiling, your earlier negative emotions couldn’t touch you in this state - you wouldn’t be surprised if you had a visible glow right now, you felt that good. And it was all thanks to your connection with Damiano.

“I love you.” You said, still buzzing even as your bodies started to separate.

“I love you too, baby.” He punctuated this statement with a quick kiss on your lips.

You planted your feet as firmly on the floor as you could manage. As he moved around you, you were again very grateful for the sight of him soaking wet. He manipulated the taps, bringing the hot water back in a way that eased any lingering tension out of your body, finally seeing the end of your goosebumps.

“How do you feel?” He asked as his eyes carefully surveyed your current state.

You pushed your dripping hair away from your face, gaining back more of your composure with every passing moment. “Great. Dirty, but clean. Did you enjoy my sex faces?”

“Always do.” He said and you got another kiss. “Now, one of the things on your menu is a shower. Is that what you wanna do for aftercare? Because I can just leave you in here.”

“Or, you can shut up and make me a cup of tea.” You said, which he went along with.

He left the bathroom behind, a towel wrapped around his waist. You were going to be in here much longer, plugging in your hairdryer. As you got to work on your wet hair, you could feel the bliss from your climax still simmering under the surface. Seeing your reflection, you weren’t focusing on any flaws because you had been granted a new energy, which felt like it could carry you through the process of getting ready. Earlier, this had seemed to be a taxing feat that would have to endure.

The steaming cup of tea was awaiting your arrival at your makeup table. You collected your mobile phone before going over to the seat. Checking the time on its screen made you worry a little, more time had been spent in the shower than you had realised.

You looked up when you noticed him coming into the room. “Is what we did in the shower gonna make us terribly late for this dinner?”

He considered the time displayed on the bedside clock. “No, we should be fine. Besides, I think what we did was very worth it, don’t you baby?”

“Don’t you dare distract me with a play-by-play, I’ve gotta do my makeup.”

*** *** ***

But he was wrong and you were late to arrive at the dinner party. Damiano tried to reassure you, telling you no one would mind that you were ‘fashionably late’.

But you worried about making a bad first impression on his friends. This only strengthened when it became clear that the rest of the guests had been waiting for the two of you. Almost every person assembled in Mia and Antonio’s dining room (and it was a sizable group) watched your delayed entrance.

Damiano was absolutely unfazed by this, swiftly making an apology to the hosts, which didn’t include placing the blame on you. Then, with your fingers interlaced securely, he made his way around the room, greeting people individually and introducing you. Even as they all smiled at you, you couldn’t help feeling like you didn’t know where you stood with these people.

Nathan quietly informed the two of you that you hadn’t missed anything important. Some gossip had been shared during the pre-dinner drinks, but nothing truly worth noting had happened.

Antonio announced that the food had been laid out in the kitchen and everyone was welcome to serve themselves, buffet-style. Before you or Damiano could make a decision of your next move, you were being accosted by a petite woman who carried the scent of a freshly-smoked cigarette with her.

“Oh my God, who let you in here?” He loudly asked as his attention went to this stranger.

“I could ask the same thing about you.” She said, stepping in close at once. “Give me a hug, you animal.”

His hand slipped from yours so that he could embrace her. The lack of distance between the two of them suggested more than just an acquaintance, but her face didn’t strike you as familiar from any of the childhood-cataloguing photo albums that his mum had shown you.

“How long has it been?” She asked, yet to notice you as she beamed up at him.

“Years.”

“Duh, Domino.” She said, giving his shoulder a playful shove.

You furrowed your brow, unsure if you had misheard her (with a house full of people, it was likely your hearing was slightly compromised). Or if she had seriously messed up the pronunciation of his name. His lack of reaction made you think the former was what had happened.

“But have an actual think about it. When did we actually see each other last?” She asked.

He gave this some consideration. “Was it Kesha?”

“It was.” She said happily. “That concert was amazing. I crowd-surfed that night.”

He rolled his eyes. “Convincing the drunk guys next to you to pick you up for a couple of seconds is not crowd-surfing.”

You couldn’t help clearing your throat. You didn’t like how you felt right now, waiting for somebody to notice you so that you could be acknowledged and included.

He instantly set about rectifying this, taking a step away from the enthusiastic stranger so that he could put an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry baby, I totally forgot my manners there. This is Andrea, she dated my brother in high school.” You extended your hand for a shake. “And this is my girlfriend…”

“Nice to meet you.” You said. As you shook her hand, it was hard to ignore the way that she still barely looked at you - apparently all of her attention remained on this little reunion.

“You too. It’s good to see the woman who’s crazy enough to think she can keep up with this clown.” She said - what the Hell did that mean?

“Hey, watch what you’re saying. I think you will find that it’s you who is the clown.” He teased.

Her comeback was delivered within seconds. “Classic thing for a clown to say.”

He didn’t struggle for a comeback either, it was as if the two of them had never fallen out of the habit of making fun of one another. As they joked, you had no idea how you were supposed to be contributing to this conversation. This only got worse when they began to refer to things you had never heard of. All that you could do was smile and hope you didn’t look as awkward as you currently felt.

You weren’t very fond of the way she repeatedly cut him off, talking over him so that her point could be reached first. He didn’t let this trip him up, but you were keeping a mental tally of it, even as you went on smiling.

After a while you were noticing more-and-more people coming to the table with plates full of food. You weren’t the only three not in the process of sitting down.

But you were getting bored of forcing a laugh whenever they laughed and the two of them weren’t slowing down. They kept talking without much pause, meanwhile your eyes were getting drawn back to the food. 

You jumped on the briefest of lulls in their conversation, giving his hand on your shoulder a little squeeze. “I’m gonna get the food before the best stuff is gone. Did you want me to put a plate together for you as well?”

“That would be amazing, thanks babe.” He said.

You stepped away from them, hearing their chatting continue as you headed in the direction of the kitchen. There were a handful of people in this room, loading up plates, considering the food on offer or having contained conversations.

You collected two clean plates from the station and approached the food-covered counter. This brought you closer to where Mia was standing, allowing you to hear what the host was saying to Liliana.

“-never had them at any of your parties before.” Liliana said.

“We’re just trying it out to see if it makes things easier. This way we can make sure all the couples get to sit together.” Mia said.

“I get that. But what I don’t get is why you stuck Andrea down the end of the table.” Liliana said, and you felt compelled to listen more carefully now. “She hates not sitting in the middle. Do you really think she’s not gonna have a bitch and a moan about that before the party is over?”

You quickly looked up, seeing Mia make a face before you went back to adding sausages to Damiano’s plate. “I know, trust that I know. I’ve been friends with her longer than you, I’ve heard more of that bitching than you. But I put her where she demanded to be.”

“Demanded?” Liliana repeated.

“Yeah, she demanded that she get to sit next to Damiano.” Mia said - something about this statement didn’t sit right with you, spawning the feeling that you should put your guard up. Even if you couldn’t articulate why.

They kept talking, the discussion regarding the assigned seats at the table moving away from Damiano and Andrea. You concentrated on just picking which foods looked most appetising. You tried to not analyse what the women had said as you added generous servings to each plate.

By the time you reached the table (a steaming plate held in each hand), you found that Damiano was already seated. And beside him, still talking, was Andrea. You sat down on the opposite side of him, providing him with the selection of food.

He didn’t let this go unnoticed, instantly turning to give you a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the best, thank you baby.”

“I did a good job?” You asked.

“Yeah, everything looks fantastic.” He said, picking up his cutlery.

You were interrupted from your second bite when Andrea got your attention by saying your name. “What do you do for a living, sweetie? Or are you a professional groupie?”

“I’m her groupie.” He said.

“I work in real estate, general admin stuff.” You said, knowing that she wasn’t seeking too much information.

She wordlessly stared at you, as if this needed a beat to be understood. “Huh…”

You showed an uneasy smile. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, of course it isn’t.” She said, her eyes mainly on Damiano again. “I’m just surprised. I was expecting you would be dating a model, or some type of influencer, at the very least. Wow, I know whose day at work gets talked about first.”

You dropped your eyes, the empty hand in your lap clenched into a fist. You wished for even a shred of his natural sass, because you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. You couldn’t express yourself, nevermind defending yourself.

“Oh I don’t know about that.” He said. “Parts of my job are pretty boring. Recording music is seriously tedious, there isn’t much about my day to tell if all I did was listen to the same eleven seconds of one song, trying to decide if the pitch should go slightly up or down. I would much rather hear about the stuff happening in her office. You genuinely don’t want to imagine all of the hours this poor woman has wasted hearing me do the same three vocal warm-ups.”

You reached under the table for his leg. “I’m just grateful you don’t do it in your sleep.”

He placed his hand over yours, his fingers moving to their familiar hold. He used his other hand to operate his fork and you started to eat more as well.

That surge of being embarrassed was easing off. But you couldn’t help feeling a little inferior. You supposed that the opinion of this woman seemed significant because she had been a part of your boyfriend’s family long before you. If you had been feeling more confident tonight, then her effervescence wouldn’t seem like such a threat.

You could feel relieved when she didn’t direct any more questions at you. You continued to be bothered by her habit of speaking over him. But with so many other people around the table, you didn’t struggle to find someone else to talk to and distract yourself. You got to know Nathan better.

After clearing his plate, Damiano wanted to go out to the yard to have a cigarette. Instantly Andrea was insisting on going with him. You tracked their movements away from the table, unshakably annoyed and hating every second of it.

You didn’t want to behave like an animal marking their territory. But a lull in your conversation with Gabriella saw you unable to resist the urge to make an excuse to leave the table. Your fingers were curled up, ready to tense as you walked out of the dining room, headed for the back door.

They were the only two people on the patio, cigarettes ablaze as they chatted. Actually, ‘chatting’ didn’t seem to adequately capture what you were seeing - it was Andrea talking. She was so animated and loud, dominating the space, dominating all of your boyfriend’s attention. And it made your blood run hotter than usual. There was something uncontrollable in you that was making your reactions to this woman stronger than usual. But you didn’t know how to make it stop.

And the elevated emotions dictated your actions. You left your subtlety largely behind, making your mind up to act without hesitation, without getting locked into self-consciousness.

You walked directly to Damiano’s side, snaking both of your arms around him as you stood as close as possible. You heard her continuing to talk, but he looked at you, an intrigued smile forming on his mouth. He began putting an arm around you as you moved in to kiss him.

She could regard your job as unglamorous if she wanted. But you were giving her the reminder that you had the guy she was so desperately trying to spend time with. He didn’t mind the public display of affection, kissing you back straight away. You doubted he would be bothered by this possessiveness. You had succeeded in shutting her up.

He was smiling as you separated and you gave a little giggle before speaking. “Sorry if I interrupted, I just really missed you, babe.”

“Missed me?” He repeated, eyebrows raised, but clearly not on the verge of discouraging you. “I haven’t been out here that long, have I? I swear this is still my first cigarette.”

You deposited your hand into the back pocket of his jeans. “I know. But I got to thinking about you. I was talking to Gabriella about TV shows and stuff. I told her how we’ve been watching Orphan Black for the first time. Which made me think about- but I didn’t say it to her- about how you really woke me up that time I almost fell asleep watching it.”

His eyes grew wide. “You didn’t wanna say it to Gabi, but you pretty much just told Andrea.”

“Coffee.” You said loudly. “He made me the strongest espresso known to man, and then he turned the volume all the way up. No one could sleep under those conditions.”

“Oh man, we used to have to keep you so far away from coffee, Domino. It was the worst combination.” She said and the apparent mispronunciation got your attention again.

“Yeah. Well it doesn’t quite have the same effect on me these days.” He said.

She looked at you, surveying you as she exhaled a column of smoke. “Do you wanna know what I’ve just noticed?”

No, your mind replied. And maybe in an alternate world, you would have let her see some of your attitude. You wouldn’t be held back by shyness and the constant need to be polite, and treat her how she had been treating you.

But you kept on smiling, tilting your head to the side in a display of curiosity as he invited her to elaborate.

“She doesn’t have a single tattoo.” She stated, pointing a finger at you. You felt like she had been watching you so carefully, looking for something to judge you over. “I’m in shock over here, I literally cannot believe you’re dating someone with no tattoos.”

“Wait…”

“Did Hell actually freeze over?” She joked, speaking directly over your attempt to respond.

Fortunately, she let Damiano talk. “No, she does have one.”

You held his body closer, stroking a hand across his chest. “We got tattooed together in Japan, when I was on tour with him.”

“Yeah, we got our dragons done by the same artist in Tokyo. ‘Cause why would we buy a typical souvenir from a shop?” He said and you could sense the pride in him even in this brief retelling of that day.

But she continued to be unimpressed, making a face that saw her gritting her teeth in an uncomfortable-looking manner. “Matching tattoos? Oh, you guys… I really thought you would have known about this, Domino. Matching tattoos are the kiss of death.” You couldn’t keep yourself from sighing, but she still had more to say. “It’s a curse, even in friendships. I’m speaking from experience here, a lot of experience.”

“What if we just don’t believe in curses?” You asked.

“It might just be an Andrea-thing, not-...”

His teasing was interrupted by the loud ringing of her phone. She frowned at him as she pulled it out of her pocket. Whatever she saw on the screen wasn’t good and soon she was scowling. She answered the call with a huff.

“This isn’t a good time, Darr-... what the fuck do you mean you’re at my place?” She started to stalk off.

Damiano waited until she was out of earshot to speak. “I guess that toxic ex of hers is out of prison…”

“Matching tattoos are a curse?” You asked, your jaw clenched. “Shall I call Ethan, Thomas and Vic to ask for signs of the curse since you guys got your matching tattoos?”

“It’s all bullshit.” He said with a shake of his head and having him on your side felt validating, it helped ease some of the tension.

“Is she saying your name wrong on purpose, or does she have a speech impediment that I should be more sensitive about?” You asked.

He furrowed his brow, pausing as he sucked on the filtered end of his cigarette. “You mean Domino? That was a name she and my brother came up with when I was a tween. I had lots of pimples, ‘cause puberty. And dominoes have spots, and they thought it was close enough to Damiano for it to be comedy gold.”

“That’s so mean.” You said, finding another reason to dislike her.

“It was a long time ago, you know how siblings torture each other.” He said.

“I guess.”

He turned to face you, wrapping both of his arms around you now. “So you missed me, huh?” You felt his hands sliding down your back, travelling towards your butt. “It looks like this yard is smaller than Ethan’s, so I don’t think we could get away with sneaking off for a fuck like we did at his housewarming party.”

“I’ll save the horny kitty energy for when we get home, then.” You said.

You didn’t worry about the damage to your lipstick as he moved in, seeking more kisses. You kissed him back, relaxing into the embrace. It was a nice break to not currently hear Andrea’s voice. There was nothing to analyse in this moment, you just enjoyed how his mouth naturally moved with yours.

Once he was finished smoking his cigarette, the two of you returned inside. Soon Mia and Antonio were getting all of their guests ready for the egg hunt portion of the evening. It wasn’t just their backyard that you would be searching - they had friendly and understanding neighbours that had allowed chocolate eggs to be hidden around their front yards. Those participating had agreed to leave porch lights on, signalling that it was okay to approach their homes. Not everyone on the street had joined and you were told no one would vouch for you if you got into trouble for climbing over any fences.

The search area had been divided up, with each team of two allocated a different section to investigate. Every section had the same amount of eggs, so everyone had an opportunity to win.

The prize had come from the speciality chocolate shop Mia worked at. It was a large (about eleven inches in height), solid, artisan Easter bunny. You had already secretly decided that Damiano would be eating it alone if you two claimed the victory.

You held the cute little wicker basket in one hand, holding Damiano’s hand with the other as you walked with the rest of the group. Before you could get shown to your allocated search zone, Andrea approached, a smug-looking smile on her face.

“I wouldn’t be feeling too confident if I were you, not with Domino on your team. That guy can’t find anything, he was always losing his phone, like it fell off the face of the Earth or something.” She said.

“Good thing that was a very long time ago.” He said.

Antonio pointed you to the front yard you would be searching. You and Damiano approached with the flashlights of your phone’s activated. The rest of the party moved onto the next participating house.

You found the first egg, its foil wrapping catching the light from inside the cylinder that was attached to the letterbox, designed to hold a newspaper. There was another one beside the base of a rose bush. He noticed one on the short staircase and upon going to collect it, he spotted a second egg behind the steps, reaching his hand into the gap.

He was looking up, amongst the branches of a tree when you heard Andrea’s far-off laugh. It prompted an instant reaction from you and you took this private moment to express some of the thoughts swirling in your mind.

“I don’t know how much more I can take of her calling you that.” You said.

He looked at you, brow furrowed as it took him a pause to figure out what you were talking about. It wasn’t even on his mind. “Oh, the whole domino thing. I wouldn’t let it get to you, kitty. After tonight, you will probably never have to hear it again.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t irritating at this moment. They used it to bully you, it’s not nice to keep repeating it.” You said. “It’s not your name.”

He had gone back to searching the tree from his viewpoint, looking for something that didn’t belong. “And yet, she keeps calling me that. It’s like she thinks I have a humiliation kink, or something.”

Your mouth dropped open and you stared at him, unable to believe that he had found a new way to make you uncomfortable in this situation. This wasn’t a perspective you had considered and you instantly hated it. He wasn’t on the same page as you, he didn’t know what you needed to hear.

You couldn’t think of anything to say. All you knew was that you wanted to get out of this situation - you were tired of the negative emotions holding you down.

He seemed to realise his error after a moment, looking at you with wide eyes. “That was the wrong thing to say. Why did I say that?”

“I don’t know.” You said and your hand on the basket curled into a fist.

He had pocketed his phone, turning to you as he spoke with an apologetic tone. “That was- I wasn’t thinking, literally. Literally that was just stupidity and the worst attempt at a joke, ever. If I could take it back… Let me take it back? Please, I didn’t mean anything-...”

You showed him the palm of your hand, succeeding in getting him to stop talking. “The toothpaste is out of the tube now, Damiano. And I’m gonna walk away.”

“No, baby, you can’t.” He said, but you had already started to back away. “Let me apologise.”

“Save it for later. Truly, I just need a moment to be annoyed. We can talk about it later, when I’m feeling less… just less.”

“What about the egg hunt?” He asked with a hint of hope.

You scoffed and decided to stop being so polite, you had done enough of that tonight. You didn’t care if this action made him call you a brat, you wanted to drive home the fact that he had aggravated you.

You tossed the basket into the air, the chocolate eggs going flying as you aimed for the branches of the tree. You spun around and started to walk away before you felt the urge to show him both of your middle fingers. You walked in the direction of Mia and Antonio’s house, your breath coming in quicker than what was normal.

Your thoughts were racing as you tried to make sense of this swell of emotions. Why would he think it was okay to talk about kinks in relation to another woman? It was the wrong time for you to accept this as a harmless joke. It fed into your insecurities, festering beneath the surface, instead of being shrugged off.

When you returned to the house, you delivered your cover story of needing to use the bathroom. After visiting the toilet, you forced a smile onto your face and threw yourself into socialising with his friends. Everyone but Andrea.

You didn’t feel much like talking to him right now, either.

*** *** ***

The car ride home was filled with a lot of talking. You couldn’t walk away from him now. Potentially you could have shoved your fingers in your ears and refused to listen to him.

But your irritation with him had settled down enough that you were willing to hear him out. And you didn’t regret it, because he was seemingly done with thoughtless attempts at humour.

He opened with an apology and again stressed to you that he hadn’t meant to upset you. You nodded along as he explained how he had been able to tell that you were uncomfortable so he wanted to make a joke to cheer you up. His intentions had been good, even though he had fumbled the execution. He assured you there was no hidden meaning behind his words, telling you how much he wished he could take it back. He promised to never make another joke like it and you appreciated his sincerity.

But you couldn’t immediately snap yourself out of the way you were feeling. These negative emotions wouldn’t be so easily left behind, they would have to be worked out of your system. Time and distance from the situation would help you.

Crossing the threshold into your home, all that you were thinking of was taking off your makeup and going to bed. Maybe you would be able to put a positive spin on this whole thing in the morning.

But you didn’t get very far. Damiano wrapped a hand around your forearm, bringing you to a stop before you could get to the hallway. Your jaw was clenched as you turned back to him.

“I thought you accepted my apology.” He said.

“I did, I do. That’s what I said, are you calling me a liar?” You asked, quickly finding your way back to being fired up.

“No, I’m not. I’m just trying to figure you out right now, kitten. I don’t understand your energy. If you accepted my apology, then why are you still cranky?” He asked.

You snatched your arm out of his grasp, you were officially done with holding everything back. “Because I am. You don’t get to control my emotions. You get a lot of control, over a lot of things, Damiano. And I’m not complaining about it, I am more than happy with our dynamic. But my emotions are one thing that you don’t get to control.”

“I’m not trying to. Please, can you tell me what’s going on?” He asked, he wasn’t elevating his tone to match yours. “I am so confused and I just want to help make things better, but how can I do that when I have literally no idea what’s going on?”

You folded your arms across your chest. “Alright, we can talk about it.”

“Great.” He said with a little sigh of relief, taking a step back from you. “I’m gonna sit down, you don’t have to join me, but I think it would help us if you did.”

You walked into the lounge room with him. With how seriously he was taking this whole thing, it seemed highly unlikely that he was on the verge of cracking another unwelcome joke. You tried to let your guard down, telling yourself that he wasn’t going to give you any more reasons to feel sensitive. You sat on the couch with him, allowing a gap bigger than what was typical.

“I’m not that- at least, I don’t think that I’m terribly mad. I’m just in… a weird headspace.” You said. “And I’m sorry for ruining your night, that’s not how I wanted the night to end. But I don’t think anyone there could tell something was off with us…”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I accept your apology, I do and I listened to every word of your explanation. But it’s gonna take, like, a moment or two for me to not feel gross about it. Because you literally picked the worst time to say it.” You said.

“But why? What made my timing so bad? It’s gotta be more than just the Andrea thing.” He said.

“I’ve not been feeling so good today, just a lot of insecurities, being loud in my head and…” You said, starting to lose your ability to look him in the eye.

“How could I know that?” He asked. “Baby, I’m gonna start calling you Meryl Streep, ‘cause you’re way too good at acting like everything is fine.”

“Really, you had no idea that anything was wrong? Not even when I came up and was being all jealous and rubbing myself on you like a damn cat trying to get their scent on something?” You asked.

“Well I could tell that you were feeling a little jealous. But, I don’t know, the results were kind of cute to me, so I didn’t put any thought into it. I just assumed it was a superficial, non-serious thing.” He said.

“I was already comparing myself to her, how could I not? She’s so much more confident than me and why wouldn’t she be? She’s thinner than me, she has a cooler, more interesting, sexier job than me.”

He shrugged. ���I don’t know how sexy body piercing actually is. Punching holes in the ears of crying and restrained children- that doesn’t exactly sound like a picnic to me. Trying to keep people from fainting and cleaning up their messes after they don’t follow the aftercare instructions properly. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a straight-forward career like yours.”

“She’s known you longer than I have.” You pointed out.

“Yeah, as her boyfriend’s geeky, pimple-covered baby brother. I was always just a loser, wannabe to them.” He said.

“Maybe back then, but she demanded to sit next to you tonight.” You said.

He cocked his head to the side. “Demanded, what are you talking about?”

“I overheard Mia saying it, she was talking about how Andrea wanted to sit next to you so badly that she demanded it. And that was Mia’s choice of words.” You said. “Demanded.”

He paused, he was without an immediate solution for you. “Okay, she demanded to sit next to me. Are you sure that wasn’t just to catch up with me? I mean, it has been years since we last saw-”

You jumped up to your feet, exasperation taking dominance over your other emotions. “She was flirting with you all night, Damiano. All of that teasing- if we were kids on the playground, she would have found some mud to push you into to get your attention.”

He remained seated, still maintaining his calm (you envied the logic and clarity he seemingly possessed right now). “Was I flirting back? Sincerely, did I give her any of that attention back? Because I have way more than a lame joke to apologise for, if that’s the case.”

“No, you didn’t flirt with her, but that’s not the point…”

“Actually, I think you’ll find that is the point.” He said, a hint of sternness coming into his tone now. “Just because someone flirts with me, it doesn’t mean I’m enjoying it or wishing I could flirt back.”

“But people just feel so damn entitled to you. And they’re not even shy about it. How am I supposed to not get jealous? When I’ve already got a bunch of insecurities.”

“What insecurities are loud in your head today, kitten?” He asked. “I really had no idea that you weren’t feeling at your best.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You half-mumbled your response.

“Don’t freeze me out, please.” He said. “It’s so obvious to say, but I can’t fix a problem if I don’t know what it is. We’re a great team, aren’t we? Let’s face this as a team.”

You fiddled with your fingers rather than looking at him. “I don’t wanna make you listen to me complain-... one day you’re gonna get over my insecurities, you’re gonna get sick of telling me not to believe my thoughts.”

“That’s not true.” He said but you just shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, if you’re allowed to say that like it has any basis in reality, then I’m allowed to say this: someday you’ll get over having a boyfriend that forces you to deal with a partially-long-distance relationship.” This succeeded in getting you to look up, shyly at first. “You’re gonna realise that you can have a guy with a nine-to-five, a fucking sane career. A guy that can be in bed beside you every night. You’ll get sick of sharing me with my job and you’ll find a more reliable guy.”

“You are a reliable guy. And I knew what your job was when we started dating, I knew what I was signing up for. It doesn’t take away from how much I love you, loving you isn’t a conditional thing, Damiano.” You told him.

He nodded his head. “That’s a lovely thing to hear, thank you. So what you’re saying is that my statement isn’t true, right?”

“Right.”

“Kinda like what I said about your statement. Actually, that's exactly what I said.”

“So we just cancel out each other’s insecurities and everything is great again?” You challenged.

“No, I know that it isn’t that simple.” He said. “I know Daddy is supposed to have all of the answers, but I don’t have them for this. My best guess is that we help each other with our insecurities and we get through it together. That whole team thing.”

You sighed. “I don’t know how to just make my bad mood stop.”

“I don’t expect you to.” He said and he extended his hands out to you, beginning to bridge the physical gap between the two of you. “Please don’t take this as me trying to control your feelings. But I wanna take care of you, as your daddy. Would you let me be in charge again?”

You met and held his gaze now. You had been too frazzled to come up with any solutions for yourself and you didn’t even try resisting how good it would feel to reconnect with him. You took the small steps over to him and placed both of your hands in his. “Yes, babe.”

He straightened his back, coming up a little higher now. He put one of his hands to your cheek and you allowed yourself to be drawn in for a kiss. It must have been hours since the last kiss you had shared and you felt just how much of your body responded, instantly telling you that this was the correct course of action.

“I heard you out, so now I would like you to hear me.” He said, a deep look into your eyes making his seriousness inescapably clear. “I want to help you get out of those thoughts and calm down. So I think the best thing will be for both of us to take our pants off, you’ll take your panties off too. And then you’re gonna put your pussy right here-” He gave his upper thigh a little pat. “And you’re not gonna think anymore thoughts, you’re just gonna feel good and listen to me.”

You were already undoing the fly of your jeans, but you almost rolled your eyes. “You’re gonna fuck the bad mood out of me- that’s your angle?”

He was taking his pants off as well. “You act sceptical and yet you’re going along with it, you’ve got free will, you could walk away and call me a moron.” He threw his pants aside. “And I wouldn’t phrase it that way. I just think you need to calm down and making your pussy feel good is the first step in that. We don’t have to do anything too crazy, we can go at your pace and you can safeword at literally any second.”

You dropped your underwear to the ground, looking in his eyes as you tried to not worry about the visibility of those new stretch marks (the overhead light was on, there weren’t enough shadows for you to hide in, you had to get okay with that). “Yes, Daddy.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders, ensuring stability before you moved in closer. You lowered yourself down, bringing your bare cunt to his exposed thigh - you couldn’t deny that you were feeling the beginnings of that wet eagerness before contact was made.

“I love you.” He said, he had wrapped one arm around you, holding you securely as he wanted.

You continued looking into his eyes as he gently brushed your hair away from your face. “I love you too.”

His fingers rested under your chin and he moved in for a kiss. “I love all of you, okay? I love this mouth, even when it’s saying unreasonable things.” He kissed you on the lips, then the next kiss went to the centre of your forehead. “And I love this mind, even when it’s being mean to you, I’ll still treat it with kindness.

“And your body, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life enjoying this gorgeous package that my kitty comes in.” He said, holding you in a way that eased you closer to him, briefly dragging your cunt across his skin, in a preview of the friction to come. “I want to make you feel it. Because you’ve gotta know it, you’ve gotta know that there is no part of you that I will ever get sick of. Even the bits that you don’t like, I’ll love them extra until you do.”

You couldn’t think of anything to say, so you expressed yourself by giving him more kisses. You didn’t want to dwell in your insecurities any longer and those thoughts felt like they were on the verge of floating away. He had been right - with so much blood rushing into your cunt, those cyclical emotions were getting interrupted. Of course he had been right, but you weren’t about to stall this kiss by pausing to tell him about it.

Instead you sought to deepen the kiss, placing your hand to his cheek and tilting your head. His lips parted for you and your tongue sought a deeper taste.

In his embrace, you were partially calming down. But another part of you was just getting started and you couldn’t resist working your hips. Gently, you rocked yourself back-and-forth, not rushing into any rhythm as you figured out your range of movement. You tested how steady you were, enjoying the feel of his thigh more with every rub.

He put his hands to your hips, encouraging and guiding you through more measured pumps. Your tongue rubbed against the roof of his mouth and your fingers stroked his cheek as you enjoyed him beyond words.

You slipped into a momentum, a maintainable and promising tempo. As the tension in your body built, you settled more of your weight onto his leg, infusing a greater pressure into your cunt. He matched your passion with every kiss as you got his leg wetter.

He was short on breath when he broke the kiss. You kept your eyes shut, letting your head slump a little as you gripped the nape of his neck. You didn’t stop riding his thigh for a single second.

“God, you’re such a good girl.” He whispered. “Look at you go, you’re doing so well. Good girl, good-good-good girl. Do you notice how there’s only one good girl on that leg? That’s because you’re the only good girl for me.

“The only girl for me, period.” He said and when he kissed you on the cheek, your eyes began to flutter open. “The only one.” He was speaking directly into your ear now, and nothing could get in between you and his words. “Just ‘cause someone wants me, it doesn’t mean they get me. People can embarrass themselves trying to flirt with me, it doesn’t mean that they get me. People can grab me while I’m singing, they can rub my chest and treat me like a goddamn petting zoo- it’s nothing to me, they definitely don’t get to have me.

“You’re the only one that gets me. I’m yours.”

“Please don’t start singing that song.” You joked after his words had opened a direct connection to the Jason Mraz song from your childhood.

He laughed lightly. “No, you don’t want to hear it? You don’t think it suits the vibe that we’ve got going on?” You shook your head, a smile blossoming on your lips. “You don’t want me to sing for you?”

“Not right now.” You said and you reached your hand out for his crotch, where a stiff shape had been catching your eye. “I’d rather have you moan for me.”

He licked his lips, excitement flashing in his eyes as, over the material of his underwear, you wrapped your fingers around his erection. “Then I’ll moan for you.” He squirmed a little in his seat as you started to slowly move your hand up-and-down his length. “Mmn, I’ll moan for you all night, my toy.”

You matched the speed of your rocking to how you stroked his hot cock. You felt his fingers gripping your hips tighter and you watched the way his breathing was coming in quicker. He was invested in this build-up the same as you, everything feeling simpler when you allowed the desire to be your guide.

You adjusted the angle of your hips, moving yourself in a way that got your labia out of the way, applying your clit directly to his skin. You rubbed the hood against his firm thigh, picking up a little speed as the sensitivities stored in this spot soared into the centre of your attention. You kept the same tempo maintained on his dick, staying in sync with him.

He let out a heavy sigh. “You’re really showing off your multitasking skills, huh? I’m impressed, but not surprised, I’ve always known that you’re very talented. But concentrate on you, okay? That’s what I want- your pleasure comes first.”

“Mm-hmm.” This whine was the best response you could give as your throat clenched.

The heat was radiating out from your cunt as you kept going, inviting in more threats to your composure. The friction was so wonderful that you couldn’t help but recklessly chase after more of it. Even when your breath began to fail you, you kept bucking your hips. The sublime stimulation of your clitoral hood provided you with all of the inspiration you needed to continue in this momentum. Your breath left you in gasps and moans that betrayed just how needy you had become.

His dick had started to leak as you continued stroking and he appeared to be losing his ability to sit completely still. “You sound like you’re having fun.” He said and there was a noticeable strain in his voice that hadn’t been present before. “You sound like Daddy got you to calm down.”

“Yes.” You whimpered, leaning forward so you could give him a couple of kisses. “Daddy is always right.”

“Oh, I just wanna be inside of you real bad. I know I said that I want you to concentrate on yourself and I do, I truly do. But, fuck, I’m dying to feel your pussy.” He said.

“We can- I’m happy for us to fuck.” You said, bringing your swings to an end.

“Hell yes.” He said breathlessly as he rushed to get his briefs down. You readjusted, unable to resist kissing him some more as you were moved to be straddling his entire lap. “Can I keep you on top?”

“Yes.” You said, wrapping your arms around his neck as your bodies got wonderfully closer.

He had an arm secured around your waist and his hand was between the two of you, directing his dick. “I wanna hold you just like this, so that I can keep looking at you, ‘cause you’re so-... fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His tip effortlessly stretched your slicked entrance open, pressing between your keen walls. “You’re so beautiful, pet.”

Your eyelids fluttered and you gave yourself a moment as your cunt adjusted to this fullness. You took in a deep breath and raised your head again, looking him in the eye as he carefully watched you. “You’re beautiful.”

“Even though I’m a jerk?” He asked.

“It’s okay, I’m a jerk too.”

“We’ll be jerks together forever.” He said.

No further adjustments were necessary, your bodies knew what to do from here. His hand stroked the small of your back as you moved in, securing more kisses. As one passionate kiss led into another, he began to move, fucking deeper into you. You wrapped your arms tighter around him, feeling how your inner-walls were already clenching to him, your desperation soaring.

There wasn’t much time dedicated to building. He wanted it fast, he wanted friction. And you felt the same, enjoying the hunger present in his movements. As your gut tightened, you worked to match the reckless speed of his jolting.

“Forever.” He murmured against your lips.

“Forever.” You responded as fast as you could manage.

“Together forever.” He said, sending a tremor through you.

This developed into a quake that reached down to the core of your being, intensifying with each fervent collision of your bodies. You knew that when you fell apart, it would be on this deep level.

“Together forever.” You repeated.

Your fingernails pressed into his skin as you held him even tighter in response to the overwhelming pleasure rising up all around you. It was more powerful than anything else, ready to cripple you as you continued to quiver. Every bit of you was crying out for release and you shut your eyes, getting lost in it all.

“Ff-uck.” He burst out. “Ah, I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come, babygirl.”

“Yes.” You whimpered, clenching your thighs against him in the face of his strengthening jerks.

You had no chance of matching his wild speed. All you could do was receive him as your own release came screaming at you.

He rocketed forward, almost launching himself off of the couch as he secured his orgasm. His dick was buried all the way in, colliding with your g-spot in a way that set off a series of spasms, which you followed to your own orgasm. Your cunt clamped around his leaking cock as you both fell out of the momentum, settling into silence.

He fell back upon the support of the couch, still holding you close to his body. You rested your head on his shoulder, keeping your eyes shut as everything faded away. You attempted to catch your breath as your heart continued to hammer.

He brought you gently out of your haze, his fingers slowly raking through your hair. “How do you feel?”

“Better, calmer. I’m really happy that we’re home.” You said.

“Yeah, me too.” He said. “Now it’s just you and me, and we can get started on your aftercare. Did you have anything already in mind?” He asked.

“Can I have a face mask? After I take my makeup off. And maybe we could burn some incense.”

“Of course baby, anything you want.” He said.

You got up from the couch, holding your hand out as you waited for him. “And cuddles. I’m ready for a lot of cuddles.”

“Sounds perfect to me.” He said. He took your hand in his and you left the room together.

Once in the bedroom, you took the rest of your clothes off, in favour of wearing only your luxurious black robe. You sat down with a cleansing wipe in hand, taking off what you had so carefully applied before leaving the house. He disappeared into the ensuite, his eyes on his phone as he went. Accompanying the sound of running water, you thought you could hear music playing, but you didn’t pay this much attention.

And it was gone by the time he opened the door. He stood in the doorway, a few different packets of sheet masks in hand. “Which one do you wanna use?”

“Well bring them over so I have a chance at reading what they are.” You pointed out.

He got the incense set up while you made your choice. He set the slowly-burning stick in its holder, beside the television. From the selection, you picked a strawberry-scented mask, it would match well with the vanilla incense gradually filling the room. You liked this process of curating the environment, it helped you feel more in control, most unlike how you had been feeling upon first arriving home.

“Hang on, I thought I would put that on for you.” He said when he noticed you opening the sheet masks packaging.

“Alright.” You said. As he approached the bed, you held a makeup wipe out to him. “For your leg, so you can get off any of the pussy still on there.”

“Thanks, but I cleaned it with water already.”

You laid down on your back as instructed by him. He brushed any strands of hair away from your face and took the chance to kiss you a couple of times. You smiled, slipping further into this feeling of contentment.

As he unfolded the thin, wet material, you noticed him humming a little. This developed into singing as he carefully applied the mask to your face.

“So I won’t hesitate no more, no more. It cannot wait, I’m sure. There’s no need to complicate…” He sang in a voice different from his typical, famous voice. There was none of that usual grit or power. This was breathier, potentially it could have fooled some into thinking another person was singing. “Our time is short. This is our fate…”

You recognised the tune and began giggling before he got to singing the title of the song. “I’m yours…”

“Dami.” You said, still laughing as more of the thin sheet covered your face.

“What, you don’t like your lullaby?” He asked. “You probably shouldn’t have brought the song up, then.” As he smoothed the mask across your chin, he went back to singing in that fake voice. “Do you want to come on, scooch on over closer, dear…”

“What is this voice you’re doing?” You asked.

“You don’t like it? I was trying to do something that suited the song.” He said.

“So this is your ‘indie-Damiano’ voice, or something?”

“I guess.” He said with a shrug. “...and I will nibble your ear…”

You couldn’t help laughing as he kept singing. “Are you doing an accent, are you trying to be Australian?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Am I?”

“I thought Jason Mraz was from America.”

Playfully, he rolled his eyes. “Well how would you have me sing it?” He changed his posture and when he sang again, it was in his natural, unrestrained and loud tone. “I’m your-oh-oh-uh-orss… ow…” He punctuated this by sticking his tongue out and making his eyebrows dance for you.

“Oh my God, baby.” You said through more laughter. “How do you still have so much energy?”

“Well, um, I went to, um, my friend’s house and they, like, let me eat, um, a lot of sugar and, um, yeah…” He briefly adopted the mannerisms of an enthusiastic child. A more serious expression came onto his face as he looked down at you. “I’m kind of obnoxious today, huh?”

You shook your head as you stroked his arm. “No, you’re adorable, not obnoxious. You’re also not a jerk.”

“Neither are you, kitty.”

“Andrea is the jerk and I’m sorry for letting her get to me so much.” You said.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologise for. I’m sorry that I wasn’t more perceptive to how you were reacting to her. But do you know what- we’re probably never gonna see her again, our paths aren’t likely to cross again. And if they do, I’ll be firmer with her, she isn’t allowed to demand a single thing from me.” He said.

“I love you.” You said, feeling confident that he was on the same page as you.

“I love you too.” He said and he picked up your hand, raising it towards his face. “I’m just gonna kiss you here while your lips are in slime city over there.”

You smiled as he kissed the back of your hand. You were perfectly happy to remain just like this through the rest of your treatment time, maybe longer than that.

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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[subaru-meteorlight]

I finished starforce 1-! I played the dx patch, ofc, I hunted the sp bosses but I gave up when deep space asked for a complete standard library like god bless dex filling is not my passion. Maybe one day I’ll come back to it. 25 hours across 6 days… it’s a bit sad actually, if I were a kid this would’ve taken years but now I just blitz through it in less than a week… aw.

But anyway I really loved it… I’ve never played mmsf1 before, only watched a playthrough and anime years ago so while I was aware of some major twists (pat/rey and AM-ian mega) and the boss lineup, I had forgotten a lot of the smaller details so it was still really fun… I really love geo’s character progression, depressed lonely kid who pushes others away but ends up being saved by people who insist on being in his life, insist on dragging him around and including him and consistently reaching out to him… as well as geo ultimately deciding to move on because he meets someone with the same pain as him and wants to reach out and help, so that she doesn’t fall into the same pit that he does, ending with the both of them moving forward and deciding to be strong together… it’s something I relate to/understand heavily so honestly I’m pretty floored that this is in a game for 10 year olds. If I had a nickel for every time a kid’s game smacked me over the head with its writing I’d have 2 nickels etc etc (tho it’s probably the fact that it is a kid’s game in the first place that makes me underestimate it then get surprised when it has good writing).

Geo and Mega’s relationship is so touching to me… I really love the dynamic of “oh dear god I’m stuck with this guy” but in the end it was because of mega first that geo started caring about other things, started trying new things and experiences for mega’s sake… and in return mega does learn more about caring for other people and being kinder too. It’s a minor detail that I haven’t seen anybody point out before but for transer requests in the early game areas (ie echo ridge) mega is often dismissive about other ppl’s problems (his dialogue along the lines of “ah geez let’s get this over with”/“yeah? let them figure out their own problem.”) but later on in the game he seems… disappointed? when megaman decides not to take on a request. It’s a really cute minor detail that I love. Sadly I don’t have any screenshots to prove this but you gotta trust me bro. Or you can look it up, compare say, echo ridge requests vs dream island or time square reqs.

And on mega- it’s actually very funny to me when you compare his sf1 and sf3 concept art, lol. In the art book it says that they redesigned him to have more upright posture and “handsome” appearance it’s killing me 😭 he’s a domesticated cat… geo tamed him….

Anyway! I just started zerker x ninja last night, played a lil bit of it- unlike sf1 I never watched a playthrough, only the anime, but honestly I totally forgor anything that was in it. Apart from there’s 3 main villains? And solo, god I love solo I can’t wait to meet him properly… but that was all from a rewatch of the anime op, so. First impressions of the game is- holy fucking shit mega follows geo around when you put on the visualiser?????? 😭😭😭😭😭oh my GOD. this is EVERYTHING. Tears in my eyes actually ohhh this is probably the best feature of the game. My god. It’s so cute….!!! Mega’s always by your side, geo… he’s like a following pokemon, lol. That’s a good thing. Number 2- oh, you can walk on the ground as megaman now, cool that’s like sf3- WHY DID I GET AN ENCOUNTER ON THE GROUND. When I tell you my jaw dropped…. Lmao it feels like my safe space got robbed from me </3 viruses should NOT be bothering me on the ground.

Frankly my initial opinion on sf2 was soured because of the negativity surrounding it online, which, fair, half an hour in and I can already see the translation errors… and I’m playing the lowered encounter patch so hopefully the rates won’t be too problematic for me… and ngl people saying that the game having a less heavy and serious tone unlike sf1 and sf3 is a bit of a let down, but ahh, I’ll play regardless and see how it goes. I’m excited to meet solo, at least-! Sf2 is entirely new sf content to me, so I’m way excited to experience it for the first time…!! After this I will join everybody else in the drought 💀

[reigningqueenofwords]

Honesty

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Bucky x daughter!Reader

Part 25 of Looking for the Captain

Your morning with Nat went so well. At first, you kept looking over your shoulder, though. She understood, and would let you slowly remember that it was over. It took a bit, but after a bit you were less jumpy. After the two of you got breakfast, you went to get a new phone (as yours had been blown up), a new phone case, and then opted for some retail therapy.

“Oh, that’s a cute store.” You pointed about ten minutes after you left the phone store. “Have you ever been there?” 

She shook her head. “No. I usually order my stuff online, or go to some upscale place when we have events.” She shrugged. “Let’s go check it out.” None of the people taking her picture seemed to be bothering her at all, and you hoped to one day reach that level of unbothered. It was beautiful. 

Opening the door, you held it open for her before stepping in behind her. “It’s even cuter inside.” You gushed. “I may have a new favorite store.” Your eyes drifted to the baby section for a split second before the two of you made your way to the women’s section. “Not that I need an excuse for new clothes, this is a good excuse to replace my clothes that I’d brought to the cabin.” You chuckled, starting to look at the shirts. “I should surprise dad by ordering the games he bought while we were there. So we can play them at the tower, too. We had a lot of fun.”

“That’s true.” She nodded. “That would be fun. I’m trying to picture him playing a board game, and it’s hard.” 

“He’s a sore loser.” You laughed. “He asked if I was a mean little shit playing Candy Land as a kid. Told him that was Chutes and Ladders.” At least you’d have those fond memories of the cabin, even if it was gone. 

Nat laughed, holding up a dress. “I think you’d look cute in this.” She noted. 

“Oh, Rogers, you are in for a treat!” Nat announced as the two of you got back to the tower and saw Steve waiting. You blushed lightly, but she just grinned. “A few little new bits that fit in a tiny bag, and a couple new dresses.” 

“Gross.” Bucky made a face from the side, where you hadn’t even noticed him. 

She snorted. “Maybe make yourself known next time, Barnes.” She shrugged, clearly unbothered. Turning to you, she gave you a side hug. “We need to do this again soon. I had a lot of fun.” 

You hugged her back easily. “Of course. I’d really like that.” There was something about her that screamed ‘older sister’ or ‘fun aunt’ that was a comfort for you. “Maybe one of these nights we can have a spa sleepover with Wanda.” 

“Yes! I’ll start planning and buying.” She gave the guys a wave before heading towards the elevator. 

“I’m glad you had fun, doll.” Steve told you, taking your bags. “How was your bagel?” 

“So good! I’m gonna have to go back tomorrow for another.” You chuckled. “Oh, I also got a new phone.” As you told him, you pulled it out to show him. “I’m so glad I had backed up my iCloud yesterday morning, so I didn’t really lose any pictures.” It would have sucked because you had some super cute ones of Steve and Goliath on there. “How was the tower?” 

“Good. Took Goliath for a walk. He’s passed out in the lab at Bruce’s feet.” He chuckled. “What sounds good for lunch? Figured we can order and eat on my floor. Maybe the three of us can watch a movie?” He glanced at Bucky, wondering how things would go once he found out the truth. 

You thought for a moment. “How does Chinese sound? We couldn’t get that at the cabin.” Which meant it had been too long since you’d had any. “That okay, dad?” You asked, looping him into the conversation. 

“Sure, kid.” He agreed easily. “We can order it after we drop your bags off in your room.” A small part of him was worried that now that the three of you were back in the tower…your bonding would slow down or stall. 

As the elevator rose, you got excited. “Oh, maybe a couple times a week we can order lunch and then watch a movie?” You looked between them, truly hoping you could do that. “We can all take turns picking the movie?”

Steve loved how excited you looked at the idea. “Of course. I can agree to that. Maybe we can show her some movies from our time, Buck.” He glanced at him, getting excited himself. 

Bucky chuckled at the looks on your faces. “Like you won’t choose movies you’ve heard Y/N mention.” He teased. “But, I would like that, too.” It would be something to always look forward to. 

“Yay!” You clapped. “This will be so much fun.” 

The guys shared an amused look. 

You, Steve, and Bucky were sitting around the table when you took a deep breath. You’d just sat down with your food and didn’t want to put it off anymore. “So…” You started. “I’m pregnant.” 

Bucky froze while Steve glanced at him. “You did look at the test?” He asked. 

Sighing, you shook your head and explained the same thing to him that you did with Steve. “I’ll be moving my things to his floor, too.” You added. 

Bucky clenched his jaw. “There’s more.” Steve told him, earning a death glare from him. 

“Of fucking coarse there is. You better not be telling you’re getting married, too!” He snapped, shocking you. 

“That hadn’t even crossed my mind…” You told him calmly, your cheeks a light pink color. 

Steve shook his head. “Nope. Not that.” He assured him. “I wanted to ask you to take over the role of Captain America.” His tone was calm, but you could tell he was nervous.

“You…what?!” He wasn’t sure that he’d heard him right. “You’re stepping down? And you want me to take over?” His eyes went between the two of you, then landed on you. “Did you suggest this?” His tone wasn’t exactly ‘angry’, but you couldn’t tell much beyond that. 

You shook your head. “No, I didn’t. Well, not entirely. He mentioned you wanting him to step down, and he thinks the world needs Captain America. I asked if he could pass on the shield, but pass it to someone less ‘perfect’ to the public eye. I asked if anyone came to mind. His first answer was you.” Would that mean a lot to him? Or would this somehow upset him?

Bucky blinked, taking your words in. Despite his past, and not even being in contact with Steve for years…he wanted him to take over as Captain America? “Why me?” He asked Steve quietly. 

Steve gave him a soft smile. “Why not you?” He countered, and you felt that spoke volumes. “If you say ‘no’, I won’t be mad. I promise.” He assured him. “But, can you think about it?” 

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded. “So, you’re stepping down for the baby?” 

“I am. I don’t know what my next step will be, though.” He said truthfully. “I think I’ll think more about that once I know who I’m passing the shield to.” It made the most sense to get that out of the way first. “I’ll look more into my options once that’s done.” It wasn’t like he would just quit being Captain America and not find some other way to support his little family. 

He let out a breath and sat back in his chair. “This will take some time for me to wrap my head around.” He told you. “I’m sorry I’m not excited or rushing to celebrate.” 

You shrugged a shoulder and gave him a sad smile. “I cried.” There was no use lying. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.” It was a huge deal. “I thought about all my options already, and I’m still grasping that I’ll have a tiny human.” It probably wouldn’t truly sink in until you saw it on the first ultrasound. “I’m telling the others over dinner.” 

“You don’t have to rush to tell them.” Bucky didn’t want you telling people before you felt ready. 

“Tony is planning a party for tonight. He knows me, and knows I would love to party. There’s no way to get around telling them.” You pointed out. “I have to be honest.” Picking up an egg roll, you took a bite. 

He looked down, then met Steve’s gaze. “Doll…” He started, and the tone of his voice was a sad one. “We need to be honest, too.” 

You looked between the pair of them, noting how the light in their eyes was dimmer than usual. “What’s going on?” There was no way you could begin to guess what they had to tell you. 

Bucky cleared his throat before speaking up. “Your mom didn’t make it when we attacked the base.” He told you, watching how his words hit you. “I’m sorry.” 

“D-did you kill her?” Would that make this worse? Better? 

“No. An explosion did.” He explained. “We didn’t know until we were sweeping for stragglers. I found her.” While he hadn’t seen her face to face since you were born, it had hit  him. His daughter’s mother was dead, and he had to be the one to tell you. “I asked the others not to tell you anything. I wanted to be the one to tell you.” 

Tearing up, you blinked your eyes quickly. “Uh, wow.” You sniffed. “Can you just pack my food up? I think I’d like to go be alone. I’ll see you guys at dinner.” Getting up, you patted your leg for Goliath to follow you. 

Neither man knew what to say and let you go.

Tagging:

@vicmc624 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @otterlycanadian

[illfoandillfie]

Hi, I'm so glad you are doing the advent calendar again!

I think someone (or maybe it was me 😅) requested this before but I would love a little blurb related to ADKOE but from Roger's point of view, could be something of a continuation of where the story is now, or one of the previous scenes from his perspective, or even a bit of a introspective moment of reflection when 'y/n' is not there.

Of course no worries if this is not something you would be interested in writing, I'm so looking forward to whatever you post 😊

Thank you! 💕

Blurb Advent 2023: Day 25

ahhh amazing, I was hoping someone would ask for this again lmao, it was the push I needed to actually finish it!

It's set in during the munch chapter. Mostly fluffy with maybe a little angst just from some of the thoughts he's having. It was a lot of fun figuring out and writing so I'd defs be open to doing more of these in the future! Also, it's officially Christmas Day for me here so for those who celebrate, merry christmas! I hope this is a decent sort of present lmao.

Warnings: Modern AU, smut, professor x student, slowburn romance, dom/sub dynamics and discussion of them, munch, conversations about bdsm/kink, body painting, mentions of Dylan, a mention of sexual abuse/rape but nothing graphic and only in a theoretical way.

Roger had been a little reluctant to leave you on your own, but you’d seemed to be doing alright talking to Daisy and Jo and he knew he couldn’t hover around you all day. So he asked Mike to join him in the kitchen, a little curious to see what the other man had made of you so far. And he didn’t have to wait long to find out.   “Well Y/N is just as lovely as you said. Bit shy but that’s understandable.” Mike said as he watched Roger crack eggs into the brownie mix, “How’s it going with her?”  “In one word, surprising.”  “Oh?”  Roger decided how best to elaborate as he mixed the batter, “I don’t want to go into too much detail-”  “Right, cause you’ve never been the sort to kiss and tell,” Mike laughed.  Roger laughed too but shook his head, “No it’s going well I think. She’s still learning, but she’s getting there. Like we played around with some dirty talk recently. Partly just cause, y’know, it’s hot, but also because you’re right, she can be a bit shy. And I’m trying to get her to feel less self-conscious when vocalising what she wants. She was hesitant at first but once she got into it some of what she came out with was...” It was impossible to explain so Roger opted to just gesture emphatically with his hands.  Mike just laughed, “That certainly does sound like fun.”  “Oh, it was.” Roger swallowed thickly as he remembered how you’d sounded admitting that you think about him. He hoped Mike wouldn’t ask too many questions because even just thinking about it now was making his cock twitch and he didn’t want to be too distracted during the munch. But it was hard when he kept hearing your whiney confessions replaying in his mind. When you’d confessed to masturbating more often than ever before. When you’d admitted that he, Roger, made you feel better than anyone else had. If he said any of that out loud Mike would assume it was just the ego boost, which he supposed was fair. He’d have thought so too if someone had told him. Heck, he’d been with women where the ego boost was nearly all he was running on. But not with you. The way you’d said it all, how hesitant you’d been to start, how you’d blushed afterwards. It wasn’t a performance with you. You meant it when you’d said it. And that’s what was turning Roger on. 

But thankfully all Mike said was, “I’m glad it’s going well. She seems like a sweet kid.”  “Yeah,” Roger chuckled, “Mostly.”  “What’d you mean?”  “Look, she is a lot of things – dedicated, intelligent, curious – but she’s also very....” he paused as he tried to find the right word, “You ever have a sub that just wants to rush into everything?”  Mike nodded sympathetically.  “She wants to know it all now, not later. And she’s always questioning the importance of what I’m trying to teach her.”  “Yeah I’ve known one or two subs like that. They think they know best even though they know nothing.”  “Yeah, exactly. I mean, we’ve had arguments about it. I try explaining why I’ve picked what I’ve picked to teach her and usually I get her to accept it even if she disagrees but last week she just wouldn’t let it go. So I got pissed off, probably snapped at her more than she deserved and basically told her it was my way or the highway.”  “I wouldn’t beat yourself up too much, everyone has moments like that.”  “Yeah but that’s not really how I want this thing with her to be. I’d just been saying it was okay if she wanted to say no to learning something or to alter kinks to suit her better, and then I turn around and tell her to suck it up and do what I say or else. That’s not the lesson I want her to learn from all this.”  “Rog I think you’re being a little harsh on yourself. I’m sure she understands the difference.” 

“I know, you’re probably right. I just....She approached me to teach her so she could impress this other guy and he is...” Roger paused again but only so he could take a steadying breath and unclench his hand from his wooden spoon, “I don’t know him, but he sounds like a real piece of work. But she is determined to have him. I just want to make sure she’s prepared and knows enough to protect herself because I worry what could happen to her.”  “You sure you’re not jealous?” Mike asked with a raised eyebrow and a joking grin, “I saw how you were watching her before.”  “I was making sure she wasn’t too overwhelmed by everything.”  “Mmhmm sure.”  “Oh shut up, it’s not jealousy. No, this guy is into some really hard stuff – CNC, free use, somnophilia. She told me he’s even joked about pimping her out to his friends. I’m genuinely worried that if she goes back to him he’ll drug and rape her and she’ll think it’s kink. I need to make sure she understands the difference.”  The smile had fallen from Mike’s face as he took Roger’s concern in, “Fuck, really?”  Roger nodded, “I’m so conscious that there’s a time limit.”  The was a pause as Mike considered what to say, “You’re a good dom Rog. You know your stuff, and I’m sure you’ll be able to teach her how to recognise danger signs, even if she gets stubborn about it first. I mean, you say something enough times it has to sink in eventually. And if she’s as smart as you say she is then she will work it out. Plus, now she’ll have more people she can go to for help if she needs it. Tina will’ve taken one look at the kid and got very mother hen about her, and you know Jo and Daisy’ll look out for her too.”  “Yeah,” Roger sighed, some of the anxiety that had started to build at the thought of Dylan easing off. He pulled a smile onto his face and changed the topic, hoping he had enough time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

When he came back into the main room, Roger immediately looked for you, even as he was laughing at Mike’s stupid joke. Seeing you sitting with the other women was a relief. It was like Mike had said it would be, they’d all taken a shine to you and he could already see that he’d be constantly fielding questions about you from all of them. But then you looked up, and there was something in your expression that made his eyebrows furrow. He forced himself to look away as he announced dessert.  “Ooo brownie? Yes please,” Daisy sounded so excited by the prospect Roger couldn’t help but laugh.  “It’s just a packet mix, don’t get too excited.”   But Daisy hurried towards the patio all the same, closely followed by Jo and then Tina who grabbed Mike as she went, perhaps sensing Roger’s desire for a private word.   It was hard for Roger not to be concerned when you rose slower than the others and reached him after they’d all disappeared. He felt as if you’d have walked right past him if he’d not caught your arm. You seemed almost surprised to see him.  “Hey, how are you going? He asked softly, hoping he sounded normal, “Not too overwhelmed? I know they can be kind of loud but-” 

You moved quicker than Roger was prepared for and he staggered back a little as your lips met his, but nothing was as surprising as how purposeful the kiss felt. Your lips pressed hard to his, your arms wrapping around his neck and without thinking Roger tugged you in close, not sure what had brought on the sudden display of affection but not wanting to interrupt it either. He liked kissing you and it felt too nice to question it much. Thankfully you seemed to want the kiss to continue as much as he did, though that did mean the end of it was just as unexpected as the start.   “What - uh – what was that for?” Roger asked, trying to blink some sense back into his brain.  “For looking after me.”  It took a moment longer than it might have before you’d kissed him, but eventually the pieces all fell into place and he nodded his realisation, “I take it you heard about Daisy’s ex then?”  “Yeah, and some other stuff.”  Before Roger could even begin to wonder what the other stuff could be or to reassure at all, you continued.   “Sorry I’ve been so stubborn about things. I made it harder for you. But I think I understand now.”  “Understand what?”  “About why it’s not all about what Dylan wants.”   That was the last thing Roger had expected to hear and for a moment he considered whether you might have overheard his conversation with Mike. But he couldn’t deny that he was pleased with your admission, and he found himself smiling as he took you in again, “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. Do you want to talk about it later, after everyone goes?”  “Maybe.” 

He reached for your hand but thought better of it, switching instead to rubbing your arm in what he hoped was a comforting way. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel pushed into talking before you were ready and yet he was dying to know more. He wanted to send everyone else home right then so he could ask you about what made you understand. He wanted to kiss you again, kiss you a lot, too, just to show you how glad he was. And he wanted to tell you what hadn’t felt right to say the previous week. That he thinks about you too, much more often than he should. That he worries for you and wants to keep you safe. But it would have killed the mood during the last session, and it felt like too much to admit now. Too big of a conversation for right then. And besides, he’s not even sure how to say any of it properly. Mike had assumed jealousy and he doesn’t want you to think the same thing. So instead all he said was, “C’mon, you look like you need some sugar, let’s go eat dessert,” as he gently lead you outside.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

But he did get his chance later. Once again, you’ve surprised him. In a good way, of course. For someone who was so against sensory play to start you’d sure taken to it like a duck to water. He would have felt terrible if you’d found it boring or uninspiring. But instead he got to enjoy a fairly relaxed evening with you. And relaxing was what he needed after how tense he’d been throughout the munch. You needed it too, he decided. Not just because of how draining it was to meet new people and come to world shattering realisations, but also because he’d asked a lot of you over the past few weeks. You’d tried so many new things and been pulled out of your comfort zones. It felt right to offer you an intimate experience that was less intense than what you might have been expecting. He let you just enjoy the sensations and quietly process the day as he prattled on with all the stuff he’d planned for his lesson. And each time you squirmed or giggled when he painted somewhere ticklish, he felt especially pleased. Although, not quite as pleased as he felt when you asked if you could paint him. That was a good sign if ever he’d seen one. Not just that you were enjoying the moment, getting out of your head, but also that you could be interested in taking more control. Of course, wanting to paint on him was not the same as wanting to be dominant in a more explicitly kinky scene, but it was a step in that direction. He watched you closely as you painted his shoulder, wondering if he could ever interest you in testing the waters further. He could feel himself getting harder at the idea of you domming him and tried to focus on what he had to tell you about different paints. It was hard though when you were so close. He could feel your breath as you leaned in, focusing on getting the shape right, and you were so close. You’d been closer, of course, but not like this. It made him shiver as he supressed the urge to pull you into a kiss. And then you leaned back and he mentioned Margo and suddenly things had dissolved into something much sillier. He was nearly breathless from laughing but seeing his finger prints on your arse made him giggle again and something about it pleased him greatly. But then he looked down and saw his cock covered in blue, the paint more evenly distributed where your palm had been, thinner under your fingers. He swallowed hard when he realised he could see your fingerprints in the paint. 

After that things quieted down again. He liked watching you while you painted him, content not to say too much. There was nothing more he had to teach about sensation play, he’d given you all the important information. You were quiet too which was understandable. There was a lot to process from the munch and he supposed dwelling on it while mindlessly painting was as good a time as any. He was just glad to be with you, playing with paint, able to make sure you were okay. And then suddenly, apropos of nothing, you asked how he’d gotten into BDSM. It was a surprise but Roger was happy to answer and he liked that you’d asked the others too, that you’d been seeking out other perspectives. Without meaning to he started telling you about his father. It wasn’t something he’d intended to share, it wasn’t something he really talked about ever. But he wanted you to understand what an affect it had had on his approach to doming, especially now you seemed to have grasped what he’d been trying to teach you about submission and power.    “The line between kink and straight out violence can become very thin at times and there are a lot of people who don’t understand the difference, and some who do but ignore it anyway.” He wanted to tell you that maybe Dylan was one of those people, hopefully the first group more than the second. He wanted to let you know that thinking about what Dylan could do to you, what he fears he would do to you if given the chance, makes him more anxious and worried than anything else. But he didn't want to scare you. And he didn’t want you to think he’d overreacting because he doesn’t actually know Dylan at all. It’s all just assumptions based on what you’ve said. So he keeps that bit to himself, hoping that telling you what he has is enough to keep you mindful about who you engage in kink with.  

Quiet falls again but it’s comfortable, despite the heavy topic. Roger could say more but he gives you time to think about it, absorb it all. So it’s not until he takes the brush back that he asks his own question.   “Did you mean what you said in front of the mirror?”  It had just slipped out. He was going to ask what else you’d discussed at the munch, if there was anything else you wanted his perspective on. But the mirror scene was never far from the top of his thoughts at the moment and it had pushed through just as he opened his mouth.   You were clearly embarrassed to talk about it and Roger tried not to focus on how cute you were when he flustered you. He can feel your warmth when he rubs your thigh, trying to comfort you a little. He gets why you’re uncomfortable. He’s your professor, you’re his student. You’re not meant to think of each other in these ways. But he does. You’re bewitching, how could he not? And he thinks maybe if you know those thoughts you’ve been having are mutual, you won’t have as much reason to be embarrassed by them. So he admits the thing he’s not supposed to.   “I think about you too.”  This time you’re the one who looks surprised and Roger can’t help but feel a little pleased that he’s got you back, just a little, for how frequently you’ve surprised him of late. He wants to say more – that he doesn’t just think of you, that he dreams of you. That after you leave he’ll spend the next night replaying the sex in his mind, jerking off thinking about you. That he spends longer than he should planning your lessons, longer than he spends on his real lessons sometimes. He always gets caught up imagining how you’ll react to things, how you’ll respond, hoping you’ll enjoy what he plans to do to you. He wants you to know that he loves teaching you this stuff, loves how you approach everything with curiosity. Loves....your enthusiasm. But he can’t admit that. You’ve already had to absorb so much today and it’s been such a nice evening. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. So he asks you more, just to keep himself from saying too much.  

[mister-snake]

Trying to go sober, I'll give this another try

01/05 - The usual, kinda stressed

30/04 - Less than usual

29/04 - The usual

28/04 - Worked out, did a skin care, did internship work, got an interview scheduled thursday for a job in an hospital, did myself a smoothie and an omelet, they were sooo good. Overall, it was a good day, I felt happy and healthy and hopeful. Only drank a little tonight c:

27/04 - Less than usual, spent 200$ in protein powder, now I'm broke, but I got healthier drinks c:

26/04 - The usual

25/04 - Uni pressure dropped, also got a year older, always hated birthdays

24/04 - The usual

23/04 - The usual

22/04 - Felt overwhelmed, drank too much cuz it gave me an excuse to avoid my tasks

21/04 - The usual

20/04 - Proud of myself, cuz I felt a big craving after work, but I managed to let it pass before drinking a bit, so I avoided a red day there for sure.

19/04 - Trying to not let myself sink again, cuz every time I start feeling depressive like I did yesterday, it is SO hard to get back on track and remain functional. I wanted to drink so bad when I came home after work, but instead I made myself a clean bed, took a shower, made myself a tea and studied a bit. It gave me enough time to let the urge pass and avoid going red again.

18/04 - Mood crash, bad coping

17/04 - Big uni/internship day, came home late, short night cuz I slept early, I actually fell asleep from being exhausted. At least, being super busy has its pros I guess?

16/04 - I can't stand sobriety for too long 😅 Still was pretty busy tho, so it wasn't too bad. Otherwise, I probably would've gone red, ngl...

15/04 - Study group activity that day, which made me come back late, so I was wayy too tired for anything after working almost non stop from 6am to 11pm xd

14/04 - None. I feel like I'm on a pretty good streak ever since I got sick, my goal being to only go for purple and green days until that purple becomes my new blue. But at the same time, I feel like I'm sooo sensitive to my mood swings, which robs me from part of my sense of control. It's still a work in progress, but I'll keep trying despite the relapses.

13/04 - Less than usual

12/04 - Feeling better, both physically and mentally.

11/04 - Bleh.

10/04 - Too sick and tired.

09/04 - I got sick. With my weak ass immune system... Couldn't decide if it was best to drink anyway or to suffer with both illness and sobriety. Ended up going for a compromise.

08/04 - I got myself lost TWICE that day. On a path I'm supposed to be familiar with. Sooo... Can chronic alcoholism cause brain damage? Either way, I figured it would be a wonderful day to stay sober!! 🥰

07/04 - The usual. I feel like this time of the year always is harder than the rest for some reason. Maybe because I'm in desperate need of that summer break...

06/04 - Less than usual. I was sooo tired I went to bed early, which like, never happens for me. Ever. Also I snoozed like crazy the next morning. From 7am to 9am... 😅 Still felt tired.

05/04 - The usual, I was so tired it felt easier to just take a break by drinking

04/04 - Less than usual

03/04 - The usual

02/04 - The usual

01/04 - The usual. Recieved an interview invitation for a job in research, which cheered me up. Ended up finishing a big uni assignment too. Overall, I feel better tonight. It's progress, I'll take it!

31/03 - Listen...

30/03 - Had an argument with my housemate. The whole evening was tense, I felt like everything he said or did was to piss me off. Worst part is I can't really tell if I'm the asshole and it's all in my head, or if he purposefully was trying to annoy me. But yeah, bad day, so bad coping. I also finished his stuff because fuck him. I don't really care if that makes me the asshole at this point.

29/03 - Went to a bar with a friend, "for the food". Ended up drinking a bit too, but not too much because I was the designated driver out of us two. The place looked really cool too, it was fun.

28/03 - The usual

27/03 - I started feeling dizzy, so drinking is out of the question rn. I think my body is telling me to take care because I only slept 3h and then did a 11h long day with no break of ressources research, classes, applying to labs, clinical reunion, psychotherapy internship and clinical writing. And yet I still felt like I didn't do enough until someone pointed out that I actually did a lot 😅 So yeahh, sober day

26/03 - Less than usual, only drank out of habit cuz I knew if I didn't I would struggle through the next day and it's a big one

25/03 - I was so locked in that day that I forgot to eat, sleep, AND drink soooo I guessed that worked out lmao

24/03 - The depression returned, and with it the cravings for more

23/03 - The usual

22/03 - Gave myself a well deserved cheat day

21/03 - Didn't drink, got into a huuuge selfcare urge (with shaving, scrubs, shower cream, hair cutting, mani-pedi, face mask, serums and creams, aaaall of it), that was random ngl, but I feel good

20/03 - Less than usual c:

19/03 - I need to get my shit together that day, so no drinking, or at least not until I actually did something productive (ended up doing a 6h straight of work the night before out of anxiety, soooo I'm feeling better now, I'm less likely to drink as a way to self-sabotage/feel better, didn't drink much).

18/03 - I'm having a hard time getting out of that depressed state. It's like I can't find motivation to do anything important and keep seeking dopamine through alcohol and other activities. I tried getting out of it today, ended up cleaning my messy room and sorting nail rhinestones by color, realised I didn't do shit, felt even less motivated and ended up drinking 🤡

17/03 - Just one of those days...

16/03 - Planning to drink a little tonight, but less than usual. My mistake back when I was trying to quit last year was trying to stop everything completely with no gradual transition, which isn't very realistic if you've been drinking for years.

15/03 - Didn't drink cuz I went to see family

★ 。。・。・＋・。・。・☆・。・。・。・。。★

I'll be here. Until I die, I'll stay behind with the same love and care. It's where I belong. It's all I have. Sorry I couldn't do this back when you were still here. Despite my promises and hopes. Now I'm doing this all for myself alone. Maybe it'll be easier now that there's less pressure. We'll see.

Take care.

[invinciblerodent]

So, if Petyr and Marcus had to swap teams, who would they gravitate towards in the new group and how would it go?

oooh, very fun question, thank you for asking! ❤️ thedas is not ready for the bitchiest elf in the world, and the nicest necromancer to have ever lived is not ready for the forgotten realms.

I think Petyr might actually make sense as someone Varric might hire as a guy to help him track down Solas. He's a ranger, a tracker, a hunter, someone who is very good at navigating the woods in particular... he'd most likely be a Dalish rogue from somewhere in Arlathan, and he'd agree to help (for a reasonable amount of coin), but he wouldn't wind up as Varric's mentee, and he would not be Rook. Not only because he doesn't really have the people skills needed to fill the role, but more because he seems at least mildly allergic to not acting at least a little bit out of self-interest, and isn't really in the business of joining causes for the greater good. (like, in VG he'd probably be a Veil Jumper, but only because "off-putting local swamp-hermit" isn't actually a background option.)

So for Petyr at-this-time-Aldwir, I was thinking about who on the Veilguard team might have the closest thing to that Botherable Little Shit energy Shadowheart brings, and... I think it might be Harding? Like, one needs the patience to deal with him, the insight to see through his bitching, and the ability to give as good as one gets, and she's the only one I can see having all three, but she also seems like the kind of earnest, nice person he'd find endlessly fun to try and piss off. (Plus, through traveling with him for like a year prior to the game, she'd have had enough time to move past taking the jabs and barbs personally. One of the things I love about him and Shadowheart is that "you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look silly" dynamic, and I think he and Lace could have something slightly similar going on.)

I also want to say that Davrin could probably suss him out as a phony in an instant and give him some good-natured shit about it (like I hc Wyll did in BG3, though probably a bit less nicely- Davrin has both the wisdom to see that his bark is far worse than his bite, and the balls to tell him that) and establish kind of a friendly sort of dick-measuring rivalry, while he and Taash have sort of a similar bluntness to them, so they might find a common voice that's well-suited to vaguely grunting at each other. (Who, Taash? Yeah, best friend I've ever had, we still sit in the same room and don't talk sometimes.)

He might even end up romancing either Taash or Harding, as long as he can watch his tongue for like, five seconds. (we're ignoring that this man, in true DnD half-elf fashion, looks like 25 but is in his mid-forties, and that it'd be weird as hell for him to romance someone like Taash, who is like. maybe 23.)(I don't really think any of the guys are a suitable fit for him, personality-wise. Like I think at least Emmrich and Bellara would actively dislike him, with Lucanis not far behind. Those three would not have a good time in a party led by Petyr.)

As for Marcus, I've a hunch that he'd have a very difficult time as Tav, and his voice would easily get drowned out by anyone with a more forceful personality than his (so pretty much everyone in the party).

I'm beyond the shadow of a doubt certain that in BG3/DnD, he'd be a wizard, and he'd still be a necromancer like he is in his canon (with some notable differences, Dragon Age necromancy is very different from DnD necromancy), so I'm sure he and Gale would immediately have a lot to talk about- or rather, Gale would have a lot to talk about, and Marcus is an excellent listener, so that works lol.

I'm also fairly sure that he and Wyll would wind up as quite good friends (though honestly, that's not much of a brag- whoever Wyll doesn't like should, imo, be treated as a walking red flag), and he might also have what it takes to get close-ish with Shadowheart (with his open mind and, again, ability to listen), though probably not romantically, and in a way entirely different from Petyr.

I think Lae'zel and Astarion would respectively think him soft and bland as day old oatmeal, Karlach would have to essentially adopt him as her pet introvert for any sort of a friendship to work with them, and finding common ground with Halsin (likely in their scholarly pursuits) would take a minute, but honestly it might just work out well enough. (He's not recruiting Minthara; too strong a survival instinct lol.)(which, man his romantic prospects would be looking bleak in this game. the people he'd be interested in sexually, he's intimidated by, and the people whose company he finds actually enjoyable, he's not interested in. what a miserable time.)

..... Now that I think about it, this kind of helped me break down the main difference between my two pretty-boys-with-long-dark-hair: while they both have walls that are a mile high around them, once you get to Marcus' center you'll find a soft and goopy little soul made of marshmallow fluff and kitten whiskers, while what Petyr is hiding is moreso an angry porcupine that might let you pet its belly, if you win its trust.

I guess Marcus is hard to get to know but easy to love, while Petyr is easy to get to know, but... shall we say, an acquired taste. (By which I mean kind of an asshole, but you get used to it.)