#and the constant enduring is exhausting the constant Taking What I Can Get is EXHAUSTING (hence. the february breakdown)
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lonesomedotmp3 · 2 years ago
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guy who didn't take their stop getting panicked and freaking out at everything and having unbearable heart palpitations and being unable to sleep pill voice guess who's feeling panicked and won't stop freaking out at everything and is having unbearable heart palpitations and can't sleep!! el oh el!
#i was like it's fine i don't even need them. dude there is a reason you went to all that effort to get them...#IDIOT!!#i know i complain on here alllll the time (follow for more complaining!) but you have no idea the extent to which i get through the day by#just not thinking about it. or thinking about it for two minutes then forcing myself to just. move on to anything else.#if i let myself spiral (like i did february) all of the time i simply would stop taking part in my life#because it's unbearable if you think about it. so i don't. but the constant pointed Not Thinking About It is exhausting#and the constant enduring is exhausting the constant Taking What I Can Get is EXHAUSTING (hence. the february breakdown)#and now nothing is BETTER it's just. child psychology voice kill yourself or get over it. and so i got over it. but that's not LIVING.#and my parent's think i'm just fine now because i'm fucking on the pill or whatever and i'm trying anxiety meds etc etc#but fundamentally the truth is the same (i'm not built to be happy and i wasn't built for this life)#and i'm just back to the trying! the trying and trying and trying and swallowing pills and practicing tai chi and#opening the windows and eating oranges and sharing poems and appreciating the little things#i'm tired of appreciating little things. i want big things!#and no i won't kill myself. if you keep living there is some chance life will become worth living at some point however low#and if you die then that chance drops to zero. so fine. whatever. i'll get over it#but this isn't good. this isn't a good life! every day i have to wake up and remember there's nothing here for me!!!!#YES every day is a renewed chance that life will become good but how can i not be burdened from every day that came before that was just#nothing?#something has to change and I'VE tried changing i'm ALWAYS changing it's always ME#a new mindset a new coping mechanism and new positive mental attitude#but that doesn't fix that fundamentally life as it is for me is Not Worth It. ok. if i have to live the rest of my life trying to rewire my#brain so it feels whatever sense of hope it can from the Tiny Little Things that aren't completely miserable and desolate like a stranger's#kindness or a nice treat from a shop or a pretty skyline. if that's all i'll ever get?#what are we doing.#in conclusion: let's create life 2 where everything is so so beautiful for everyone
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sarawritestories · 10 months ago
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You Are Not a Burden
Cassian X Fem Reader
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Summary: You have been tasked with going to the Spring Court to check in on Tamlin for Rhys. Though You and the High Lord do not get along and this visit leaves you injured and doubting your abilities in Rhys and Feryre's court and in the Inner Circle.
Content Warning: Angst, Aggression, injury, Stubbornness, Self doubt, barely proof read.
ACOTAR MASTERLIST
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: I hope you enjoy this angsty fic that has some really good fluff at the end.
Exhaustion had been your constant companion in the past weeks. Doing emissary work between Summer and the Day Court had been successful and have been in good company with Tarquin and Helion, who have always loved when you come to visit. Though standing on the dilapidated building of the Spring Court, you wished you could be anywhere else. The territory has been neglected as shown by the dead plants and the Mansion looking like no one has stayed there in centuries in a matter of months. The once rich color of the land had dulled, and the people of this court have suffered just as much as the land.
Rhys had asked you personally to touch base with him as you were already traveling to nearby territories and seeing the exhaustion on his face mostly from taking care of Nyx and not wanting to have Feyre endure going back there you agree. The relief in his eyes made it worth being here though it meant that you would be apart from your mate for weeks as Cassian was at the Illyrian camps handling Devlon and making sure the camps were staying in line. The time apart has left an ache in your heart, but the work has been a great distraction.
Shaking your mind from your thoughts and sending love down the bond that links you to your General. There was a warmth that took over your body as he sent warmth and comfort through the bond. Taking a breath you raise your hand and ready to knock on the door when the door opens, and your eyes meet Emerald ones. “I could hear your heart rate spike. What do you want?”
You straighten your posture, “I was in the area, I wanted to check in.”
Tamlin scowls, “Consider me checked in. You can go run to your High Lord and your Bastard, like the good little Bitch you are.”
He is about to shut the door when you breach your boot against the frame preventing it from shutting, ignoring how his blow hit his mark and gave a knowing smirk placing the mask Rhys has taught you “Look who got his bark back.” You rolled your eyes, “Can I please come in? The sooner we have an adult conversation the sooner I can leave, and you can wallow in whatever pity party you’re hosting for yourself.”
His claws peeked over his knuckles, “Why do you care, you sure as hell didn’t care when you took Feyre from me? You sure as hell did not care when your High Lord let her come in and destroy my territory.”
You cross your arms, “Tamlin, Feyre, wanted to do that on her own, there was no coercing on our end. As for your territory...you were a ticking time bomb. Your people were getting frustrated with your rule. Feyre just sped up the process. Maybe it’s time you stop blaming others for what happened in your court and take some responsibility.”
In a flash Tamlin tackles you to the ground, your head hitting the concrete at the bottom of the stairs, your vision blurred slightly as Tamlin’s claw clamps around your neck and squeezes, “I want you to listen very carefully,” He snarls and you wince, “You don’t get to judge me when its apparent there is no use for you in that vile court you call home. Rhys and Feyre have no use for you other than sending out and parade around in other territories.” He smirked as a tear escape cascading down your cheek, “I’m sure you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” You wince as his blow landed some of your deepest insecurities being confirmed by the person you hate the most. “You are not welcome in my territory and if I catch your scent even in my territory, I will kill you. Leaving your Corpse on your bastard mate’s doorstep.”
He presses his face close to hers causing a whimper, “Get. Out,” he whispered and ripped away from your body the sound of a door slamming solidifying that the High Lord of the spring had slithered back into his tomb. You laid facing the sky the beautiful sight of the sky a stark contrast of what transpired.  For a moment not fully aware of how that escalated quickly, and your hand gravitated to your neck and tears began to pool. You make sure that your bond was locked so your emotions were not flooding to Cassian as he was out checking on his armies.
You stood and the ground began to spin briefly before steadying yourself a sharp pain stung behind your eyes and you touched the back of your head and something wet and warm met your fingertips. You look at your hand and find blood dripping down to your wrist, without a second glance to the manor, you winnowed back to Velaris. You ended up on Madja’s doorstep and you stunned the older Fae healer, “Oh dear, let’s get you checked out” Madja brought you inside and tried to tend to your injuries.
The familiar mental claws scraped your mental shield as Madja had you lay in her cot checking your neck to make sure Tamlin didn’t do any permanent damage as a bruise in the shape of a hand was blooming across your skin. You open your shield enough to let your High Lord come in.
“Home so soon?” Rhy’s voice was a mixture of surprise and concern, “Was your trip constructive?”
You take a steadying breath Tamlin’s words began to bubble up. You tamper it down just enough to keep it from Rhys and replied, “Yes my report, will be on your desk in a few days.”
“I’m glad you’re home, Cassian and Azriel are on their way as we speak so we’re having family dinner tonight at the River House.”
“I’ll be there. I am going to rest it’s been a long journey, and I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Rhys chuckled, “I’m sure Cassian will be more than happy to help tire you out when he sees you. He has already promised to kick my ass for keeping him away from you for this long.”
You smile briefly, and once again Tamlin’s words tried to bubble on the surface causing you stress. Rhys must have picked up on the shift of your feelings, “You sure you’re okay. Tamlin give you a hard time?”
“Rhysand, I’m fine, I’m just tired. I’ll see you at dinner.” You put your shield up before he had a chance to press further on the subject, and let unconsciousness claim you.
~Later That Evening~
You make your way down to the dining room of the River House, your plumb colored gown swishing against your bare feet. The high neckline that has a cut out that compliments your breast is why you chose this. Madja was able to close the wound on your head but the dark purple bruise dawning on your neck was going to have to heal on its own. The sound of laughter flooded your ears and the sound usually brings a smile to your face but this time insecurities run rampant.
They don’t need you.
You don’t belong.
You don’t bring anything to this group. They are better off without you.
You wince at the last one, but you school your features and put on a smile and walk into the dining room. The laughter died out and nerves racked down your body by the silence your lips turning down slightly, “Don’t mind me,” You whisper as you make your way down to the empty chair next to your mate. Your heart stopped at the sight of him as he rose from his seat to approach you. Being out in the mountains in the Fall sunshine his skin had darkened a shade and there was stubble along his face that made your toes curl. He was devastatingly handsome, his hair in a clean bun and his leathers been replaced by a dark button up shirt and dress pants.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” Cassian scooped you in his arms and spun you around. Placing you down he steals a kiss from you, “I missed you. I was so happy to hear you were home early.”
His hand grazed down your face and as he neared your neck wiggled out of his grasp and got on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek and gave him a small smile, “Me too, General.” You take your seat, and You see Cassian take his, his brows furrowed.  The food appeared and everyone gave approval
Feyre looked at you and gave her smile, “How is Tarquin and Helion, I hope they are doing well and treated you well.”
You are only good at parading to other courts.
You cleared your throat as fiddle with the food on your plate not having a solid “They are fine, warm and loving as always.”
“Rhys and Feyre have no use for you… you are only good for warming your general’s cock and sitting prettily on his lap.” The image of Tamlin snarling in your face and his hand squeezing your neck.
Rhys stilled his head shot up and his eyes met yours, your eyes widened and slam your mental shields up. Cassian’s head swiveled between his brother and you and guilt washes over you as he realizes that you have him locked out of the bond. “How was the Spring Court?” Rhys asked tension seeping into the room. Cassian’s head whipped to Rhys.
Feyre also stilled, “You sent her to the Spring Court?” she whispered her food forgotten. Mor poured more wine and filled Amren and Azriel’s goblets. Azriel’s shadows almost obscured him from view and Amren leaned against her chair and sipped her goblet.
Cassian’s grip on his fork tightened his knuckles turning white, “I chose to go,” I whispered. I reach my hand to grip Ferye’s across from me, “It was fine. I was banned but that was the only thing that happened,” Feyre didn’t return her smile.
Rhys jaw locked, “Don’t lie.”
Cassian through gritted teeth, “Someone tell me what’s going on right now!”  Rhys made eye contact with the General and his eyes went vacant along with Feyre’s. He was showing both yours and his mates the image that slipped. When the connection was severed you saw that the General had tears in his eyes as rage contorted his features. Feyre had tears streaming down her face.
You rise from your seat tears threatening, “I’m fine. I can handle myself. I’m so sorry that I ruined Family Dinner with this.” You fled and could hear Cassian call out your name as you winnowed to the door of the House of Wind and took the 10,000 steps to the top. You are aloud yourself to fall apart and sobs racked your whole body. Emotions swirling, of the pain on Feyre’s face and the pure rage on Cassian’s, the venomous truth that Tamlin spewed to you and when you reached the top. You moved as quickly as you could despite your thighs burning from the trek up the steps.
You reached the bedroom and were greeted by Hazel eyes, and you sniffled, “Cassian,” You whispered.
The General was leaning against the bed post with his arms and ankles crossed his eyes red rimmed, “Why did you block me out?” His voice was quiet and pained, his knuckles were bloody.
You open the bond and worry is sent down to him, “You’re hurt,” you whisper not looking away from his knuckles.
 He looks down at his hands and his eyes meet yours and they soften at your worry and relief shimmers down that bridge between him and you. “The blood isn’t mine. It’s Rhys’,” He shrugged, and you bit your lip, Cassian sighs and pushes of the post and approaches you and you avert your eyes. “He’s fine, he could have fought me off, he let me get the hits in. He felt guilty.”
“Why?” You ask, taking a step away from the door and approaching him.
Cassian stared at you in disbelief as he brought his arms down, pushing off the post to close the distance between the two of you. “Because he purposely put you in danger sending you to Tamlin’s territory. That the bruise your hiding behind that neckline is his fault.” Your eyes widened, “Rhys had stopped by Madja, and she told him she was worried about you.” You nod briefly, “We’re all worried about you. Especially Rhys and myself.”
You shake your head, “It wasn’t. I went willingly. I may have pushed Tamlin’s buttons, and he got the up on me.” You whisper, “It’s not Rhys’ fault it was mine.”
Cassian cupped your face in his hands, “Rhys was aware that you and Tamlin do not get along. He also knew that you wouldn’t say no whereas anyone else would have. As your High Lord and more importantly your friend, he should not have put you in that situation.”
You wrap your fingers around his hands that are still cupping your face, “Tamlin wasn’t wrong though.” Cassian’s face fell at your admission. Tears trailed down your cheek, “I feel like I don’t have a job that is really helping this court, but I can’t fight like everyone else and sometimes I feel like Rhys and Feyre really don’t know what to do with me.” Cassian wipes her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m even a good enough friend to be part of the Inner Circle. Then what he said about you.” You closed your eyes, “I know you love me. I know you value me as a friend, partner, mate and wife, but I think back to the number of times you have had to reassure me and take care of me. I can’t help but feel like a burden to you and this court.”
“Oh Sweetheart,” His voice cracked as he picked you up and led you to the bathroom where he took a moment to change you out of your gown. His eyes were flaring with anger at the sight of the bruise. He puts on one of your favorite night gowns that is red and black. He guides you to the vanity back in the bedroom and has you sit as he begins to brush your hair. “There has never been a moment since you came into my life where I ever found you as a burden. You have been such a bright light in my life, your smile brightens the room and even on my worst day that same smile always melts my problems away. You have the affect on the team too, your easy and calm demeanor grounds everyone even Amren.” He meets your gaze through the mirror with his smile that always settles your nerves. “Your charm is perfect for dealing with temperamental High Lords which is why Feyre and Rhys have you go out and touch base with them every now and then. They like you and find comfort in your presence.”
He kisses your cheek and turns you so that you’re facing him, “I love you, You have never under any circumstances simply been someone who warms my cock.” You give him a small smile and his eyes light up at the upward tick of your lips. “I love your kindness, and your bravery. Most importantly it’s your willingness to drop anything for anyone, no questions asked. People know they can come to you for a listening ear, a shopping spree. You even know when I just need to hold you after a difficult mission, and you don’t pry but you somehow know what any one of us needs at any given moment. That’s special, Sweetheart, you’re special.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I will happily remind you of that, everyday from now until my heart stops beating that you are NOT a burden.” Another kiss to your lips briefly before he pulls away.
You feel tears flooding out one more time as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck taking in his scent. “I was nervous, that if you sensed my dread and fear down the bond, you would have shown up in the Spring Court. That’s why I blocked you out and I really wish I hadn’t. I thought he was going to kill me he even told me as much.” Cassian stilled at the admission but did not say anything as you continued, “Then when I got here all I could think about was how I couldn’t inconvenience anyone to help. I was cowardly and didn’t want Rhys to think I failed him. Failed you and began and self-doubt is a parasite that is easy to come in and harder to extract. I just didn’t want to bring the mood down of everyone being home for the first time in weeks. ”
Cassian snorted and you could hear him roll his eyes, “He failed you, Sweetheart. But Tamlin will be dealt with. I promise.” You nod and continue to sob into his neck ruining his dress shirt with your tears.  “Also, you are more important to me than any dinner or game night we could have. How you’re feeling takes priority for me that will never change. Just because you're not feeling joy all the time doesn't make you a burden, it's normal to have those bad feelings as it is the good ones.”
Cassian tucks an arm under your knees and behind your back and carries you to the armchair looking out at the balcony. Holding you close as your sobs ebb and flow he strokes your back and presses his head against yours whispering sweet nothings.
A few moments go by when the sobbing turns to soft hiccups, you raise your head from his neck to meet his beautiful honey-colored eyes. “Thank you, for being you, Cassian, you always know what to say.”
He presses a kiss to your hand, “Promise me something, Sweet Girl.” You wait to let him continue, “Promise me that you will not block me out like that again, if you think you will be in a dangerous situation or territory, you keep the bond open so I can help. While we’re at it, tell me things. Don’t try to protect me from your dark feelings, or worries, it’s my job as your mate and your husband to help you through them and work on quieting those loud voices. No different than what you do for me.”
You nod, “I promise.” You kiss him, “I love you.”
He smiles and holds you tighter to him, “I love you too, Sweetheart. Let’s get some rest, we have an early meeting with the High Lord and Lady tomorrow.”
You nod and let him carry you to bed. He quickly removes his clothes, apart from his underwear and crawls into bed next to you, bringing your head to his chest and his wing wrapped around the two of you for extra warmth as your eyes droop close you feel lips on your forehead, “My beautiful, mate.” He whispers as you drift into slumber.
~FIN
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angelbwrry · 3 months ago
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strawberry shortcake. toji z.
cw 𐙚 oral, fingering, ass eating, unprotected sex, creaming, praise, cream-pie, masterbation. ummmm i think that’s all? oh yeah, you’re toji’s highschool sweetheart who hates his boxing career . . . minors shoo!
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every night, you waited anxiously for him to come home.the door would creak open and there he would be, bruised and battered from another fight.your heart always ached at the sight, but you knew this was his dream, his passion. you hated seeing your boyfriend hurt, yet you endured it for his sake.
you’d lost count of how many times you had to patch him up, clean his wounds , and hold him while he winched in pain. it was like a ritual now , one you wished you didn’t have to go through. but everytime he looked at you with those eyes, full of determination and love, you know you can’t possibly ask him to stop. this is who he is, and you love him for that.
so , you endure.for him, for the two of you. you just wished he knew how much it hurt you.
as he stepped inside the cozy cinnamon scented home , you greeted him with a tender smile, masking your concern. from where you sat on the plush sofa you could see his bottom lip was busted, his nose caked in blood and there was a gash that showed the pink meat under his pale skin. you wanted to cry, but held it down.
“another tough match?” you asked softly. he nodded, exhaustion evident in his eyes. your hand grasped his and led him to the kitchen, where you had already laid out the first aid kit. you’d patched him up so many times before, it became second nature.
gently, you cleaned his wounds, your touch soft and caring. he would wince occasionally , but never complain. “i wish you didn’t have to get hurt.” you whispered, voice betraying you as it cracked subtly.
you mustered a small smile, eyes glancing over at the picture of the two of you at prom. highschool toji and you, you could remember those days like yesterday. you were just teenagers , full of hopes full of dreams. he was your highschool sweetheart , the boy who made your head race with just a smile.
every morning toji and you would walk to school together, hand in hand, talking about nothing and everything. he was your confidant , your best friend.you two spent hours studying together, laughing at stupid inside jokes, and sharing your deepest secrets. you could still feel the warmth of his embrace when he held you close during those chilly football games.
even now, years later you can’t but smile at the memories.you’d both changed and grown over the years , but those moments you two shared before this will always hold a special place in your heart.
“baby, you okay?” toji questions, legs spread on the chair as he pulls you between them. you give him a weak smile nodding, but he can see right through your facade.
he hated seeing you like this. every time he came home battered and bruised, the look in your eyes cut deeper than any punch he’d ever taken. you doesn't deserve this, having to play nurse and patch him up after every fight. he can tell it hurts you, even though you never say it.
you’re always so gentle, so patient, cleaning his wounds and making sure he’s okay. he wishes he could make it easier for you, but this is who he is. fighting is his passion, his dream. but seeing the toll it takes on you makes him question everything.
he just hopes you know how much he appreciates you , how much he loves you for standing by him despite it all. he didn’t want you to suffer because of his choices, but he also can’t give up on what he loves. it was a constant battle, one he fought every day, not in the ring, but in his heart.
“i made your favorite, handsome.” your sweet,sultry voice pulls him from your thoughts. you look so fucking pretty to him tonight, curls falling a bit past your shoulders framing your heart shaped face perfectly. you’re wearing the pink robe that he loves so much the silky fabric accentuates every curve. your face is bare of makeup and he can see the beauty marks that he loves to trace.
your pretty brown eyes lock onto his, and he feels his heart swoon. there’s something about the way you look at him that makes him want to hold and never let you go. he’s drawn to your plump two toned lips, and he wants nothing more than to kiss you. you’re effortlessly beautiful, stunning, and he’s reminded of just how lucky he is to have you in his life.
“mm’ chicken parmigiana sounds delicious baby.” toji hums, embracing you tightly causing you to giggle.you run your hands through his raven messy hair, it still smells like your strawberry shampoo. funny, considering the two of you had gotten into an argument because he claimed he didn’t use your shower necessities.
usually, you’d chew his ear off about it, but tonight you were just glad your man had made it home.
bruised but safe.
“you have that big fight tomorrow, yeah?” you asked softly, hands massaging into toji’s scalp. he was too wrapped up in your touch to vocally answer, a small ‘mhm’ coming from his throat. you swallow thickly, not being able to stop the knot that was forming deep in your gut as you thought about his match tomorrow.
toji’s a professional, and you know he’s strong, both physically and mentally. but still, the thought of him getting hurt out there makes you sick.
you’ve seen him train, seen the determination in his eyes, and you knew how much this meant to him.
toji’s always so confident, so sure of himself, and you’ve always tried to match that confidence. but deep down, you can’t shake the fear of him getting hurt. you just have to trust in his strength and his skill. he’s worked so hard for this, and you believe in him more than anything.
“i wanna come watch.”
toji retracts his head back, a quipped eyebrow raised at you. you never wanted to attend his matches, he didn’t blame you. it would be hard to see any person that you loved getting pummeled. so he was a bit taken back at your sudden willingness to attend.
“really?”
you nodded with a smile, “yes. i want to come and support my man,” you giggle. toji grins, nodding.
“well, i’ll make sure i don’t get my ass kicked.” he pulls you into a kiss, his touch instantly melting you. you want nothing more than to let him ravage your body on the kitchen table but he needs to eat and rest for tomorrow, he pouts when you push him away.
“down boy,” you tease.
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your face pulls into a scrunch as you eye the frostings held in each of your hands , you’d decided to bake a cake for toji’s team. but, you were conflicted on which frosting to buy, buttercream or whipped cream. while you loved the taste of buttercream you hated how quickly it would melt and crack. on the other hand you also loved whipped, but you hated the way it leaked and you were unsure if it would be able to hold up the heavy cake layers.
baking had always been a hobby of yours, ever since you were a little girl. the smell of the fresh dough, the sound of the mixer , the warmth of the oven. you loved every step, and the best part? watching toji take the first bite of all your treats. his eyes would light up, and you’d know you’d hit the jackpot.
toji was always happy to be your taste tester, always ready to sample whatever new treat you’d whipped up. wether it be cake, cookies, or something simply experimental he was always game. it had become your routine, you bake , he tastes.
your thoughts were interrupted when a voice spoke to you.
you peered up, a man a bit older then you was standing in front of your cart. he had beautiful blue eyes and long brown hair that hung in his face, you assumed that you were blocking his away, after all you were standing directly in the cake aisle.
“oh, shoot! i’m sorry am i in your way?”
“not at all! i just couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are. and i was wondering if i could have your number?” he questioned.
before you could even open your mouth to speak you spotted toji storming up, an irritated look on his face as he watched the man talk to you. you’d sent him to go grab sticks of butter, not even ten minutes gone and some fuckface was trying to get with you.
in a flash toji was at your side, one inked arm around your waist protectively. if looks could kill this man would be six feet under the way toji glared at him.
“she’s not interested, fuck off.” toji said unamused, you could feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment at your boyfriends ludacris behavior. it was no doubt toji was the over protective type, but sometimes it could get overwhelming. but part of you found it attractive and incredibly romantic, in a strange way.
“toji,” you pressed your hands against his chest,”that’s not necessary.this gentleman was just asking me where the flour was.” you lie.you were afraid toji would beat the man into a bloody pulp if he knew the truth, your frantic eyes begged the man to go along with the quick lie. if the man had even said one thing that toji found offensive you knew paramedics would be peeling him off the floor.
“yeah…thanks for the help with the aisle number.”
phew.
a sigh of relief pushed through your lips when the man turned on his heels and left. you couldn’t blame him, toji was a six foot three muscled monster, you’d have to be insane to willingly fight him. and his scars from all of his previous fights only made him look more intimidating.
“was that necessary?” you ask, annoyance lacing your voice.
toji shrugs, “very.”
you facepalm,” whatever. let’s just hurry up and get home so i’ll have time to bake.”
buttercream it is.
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the two of you had barely made it to the match, toji quickly got dressed and prepped by his team. while you offered red velvet cake around.
“don’t die on me fushiguro.” was the last thing you’d told your geared up boyfriend before he was whisked away to the ring.
the arena was buzzing with excitement as the crowd roared, but all you could focus on was him. your boyfriend, the love of her life, stood in the ring, muscles taut and eyes determined. you had seen him fight so many times before, but never a real match.
there was a palpable tension in the air, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed you now more than ever.
from your seat, you watched intently as the bell rang, signaling the start of the fight. his opponent was relentless, landing punch after punch, and you winced with every blow he took. it was painful to watch him struggle, his usual confidence wavering as he was pushed back against the ropes. your heart ached seeing him like this, but you knew you had to stay strong for him.
“come on, baby! you can do it!” you shouted, voice cutting through the noise of the crowd. you saw his eyes flicker towards you, a brief moment of connection that seemed to reignite something within him. you kept cheering, your voice unwavering and filled with love.
“you’ve got this! i believe in you!”
with renewed determination, he straightened up, shaking off the pain and fatigue. your words echoed in his mind, giving him the strength he needed to push forward.
he dodged a punch and countered with a powerful blow that sent his opponent staggering. the crowd erupted in cheers, but all he could hear was your voice, guiding him, encouraging him.
the fight turned in his favor, each punch he landed bringing him closer to victory. you watched with bated breath, your hands clasped together, silently praying for his success.
when he finally knocked his opponent to the ground, the referee began the count, and you could hardly contain your excitement.
“yes! yes! you did it!” you screamed as the final count was made, declaring him the winner.
you rushed to the edge of the ring, your heart pounding with pride and love. as he stepped out, battered and bruised but victorious, you couldn’t help but throw your arms around him.
“i knew you could do it,” you whispered, tears of joy streaming down your face.you kissed him passionately, not caring about the sweat and blood, just overwhelmed by the sheer emotion of the moment.
he held you tightly, his exhaustion melting away in your comforting embrace. “i couldn’t have done it without you,” he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude and love.
the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, oblivious to the cheering crowd around you two. in that moment, nothing else mattered but your love and the strength you found in each other.
the living room was dimly lit, casting a soft glow over the cozy space. you nestled into the couch, your head resting gently on toji’s chest. the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing was soothing, a stark contrast to the intensity of the fight tournament you two had just returned from.
you were so happy you had decided to go; seeing him in action, giving his all, had filled you with pride and admiration.
his inked arm was wrapped around you,holding you close, and you could feel his calm heartbeat beneath your ear. you smiled to herself, savoring the quiet moment. the adrenaline from the evening had finally worn off, leaving them both in a peaceful, contented state. you thought he might have fallen asleep, his breathing so steady and deep, and you didn’t mind at all.
you wished things could always be like this—simple, serene, and full of love. the chaos of the outside world seemed so far away when you were together like this, just enjoying each other's presence. you gently traced circles on his chest with your finger, feeling the warmth and comfort of his body next to yours.
in that moment, everything felt perfect. the fight, the cheers, the victory—they all led to this, a quiet evening wrapped in each other’s arms. you closed your eyes, letting yourself drift into the tranquility of the moment, wishing that your lives could always be filled with such simple, beautiful peace.
“you know, i almost gave up.”
you lifted your head to toji, “what?”
“then i could hear you cheering me on, then i knew i couldn’t.”
before you could reply to your boyfriend his soft lips were on yours, earning a surprised shriek from you.his kisses held so much passion it made your stomach swirl with desire.you could only moan as his lips slid down to your neck kissing,licking,sucking bruises onto you that you’d have to cover tomorrow.his touch was fucking electric, each gentle peck of his lips on your skin send shocks throughout your body.
“let me show you how much i appreciate you princess,” toji husked darkly, beginning to move downward.you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter close as he began hiking up your oversized shirt, the feeling of his large hands kneading your doughy thighs making your stomach swirl in anticipation.
toji had barely touched you and yet here you were falling apart from the way he kissed your body.a gasp left your swollen lips as toji’s mouth brushed over your clothed cunt,you smelled so fucking good to him, sweet just like all the treats you’d bake him.
you looked so fucking pretty , your doe eyes gazing down at him with longing from beneath delicate lashes, legs spread in want.there was an excited glint in his eyes as they landed on your pink lace panties decorated with a bow on the hem.your stomach churned, “this pussy is perfect” he groaned.
“p-please touch me.” your soft voice cracked.you needed him to do something, anything, you were bursting at the seams. you gulped as you observed him kneel further down, feeling your legs spread further apart as he took you in. a smirk appeared on his lips.
“already so wet, and i’ve barely even laid a finger on you pumpkin,” he chuckled deeply.you felt your neck grow warm in embarrassment, he wasn’t lying your pussy was practically a water slide with how wet you were.
toji looped his fingers around your underwear and pulled them down your thick thighs,groaning at the sight of your quivering pussy. you let out a cry as he ran his finger along your juices and brought it to his mouth.the taste, an intoxicating blend of sweetness and bitterness sent waves of pleasure through him.
“so good,” he moaned.
your head tilted backward as his soft pink lips lazily licked over your pussy, savoring every drop of your essence. your stomach twisted as he opened your slick folds and ravished you, his nose brushing against your sensitive clit, causing pleasurable mewls to escape from you.
you grabbed his messy raven hair and pulled, evoking a deep moan from him as your short acrylic nails pressed enticingly into his scalp. he was looking forward to the the scratches you would leave on his back. a hand reached under your shirt to your sensitive nipples, toes curling as he played with the hard bud.toji knew your nipples were extremely sensitive yet he was always playing with them, sucking, biting, licking.
just before returning his hand to your trembling thigh, he gave your nipple one final tug.
toji released weeks of built-up sexual tension with his tongue onto you, remembering every time you brushed against him and every moment you kissed him, your warm body pressed against his. you’d denied him each time, knowing he needed all the rest he could get before his upcoming match.he expressed all his desires without any remorse for your trembling pussy.
his mouth wrapped around your swollen clit and your back arched.
“fuck, i’m so s-sensitive! s-slow down toji," you begged, as his tongue swirled quickly around the sensitive bud. a jolt of shock coursed through your body when his teeth grazed it, causing you to gasp. you were nearing your climax and fast. though you felt embarrassed about reaching this point so fast, each touch from him was wrapped pure ecstasy.
each fucking touch of his tongue made your lips quiver and he wrapped his arms around your thighs, drawing you deeper into his embrace.”t-toji," you whimpered, your words stuck in your throat.
"damn, i enjoy hearing you say my name like that," he murmured against you, the rumble of his voice intensifying your pleasure. he glanced up at you, feeling excitement as he took in the sight. you hung your head forward in ecstasy, your mouth open as a stream of whiny moans and expletives escaped. your eyebrows knitted together above tightly shut eyes. he noticed your arms trembling under the effort to hold yourself up and grinned.
his actions left your head spinning, and you couldn’t help but grip the sofa as your eyes rolled black.
toji knew you had a tendency to run and he has you locked in his arms, legs wide open. he quickly took advantage of your flexibility bending your legs backwards until they were inches from your face.
his tongue found its way to your asshole warming a squeal from you, your stomach was twisting as he licked around the ring of your ass. “toji!” you cried out as he ate your ass hungrily.toji had always been an ass eater, he always begged to do it even if he wasn’t getting anything in return.
his tongue feels warm and electric. he’s eating you softly and sensually, bliss spreading slowly throughout your body. he picks up speed, he’s rough and passionate now, tears pricking your eyes, every lick lighting up your senses.
“tell me how daddy’s making you feel,” toji moans, licks now back working on your shivering cunt.you cry out as his tongue flutters against your throbbing clit, words caught in your throat.a crack of his hard thunders across you thigh, a squeak erupting from you.
“don’t be rude princess, tell me.”
“g-good, sooo fucking g-good daddy!” you whine, thigh stinging.
a high pitched whimper left your lips as he slid two fingers inside of you, the stretch making your body churn in pleasure. toji and you hadn’t had sex in weeks so you were extremely tight and his two fingers felt like four.”so tight, guess i’ll have to break you in baby.” toji laughed, fucking laughed.
he knew he possessed complete control over you, and this exhilarated him. you were putty in his hands.
his lips reattached to your clit as you let out a soft moan; the sensation of his finger combined with his tongue on your clit bringing tears to your eyes.he added another finger, causing you to wince at the stinging sensation, a mixture of your fluids mixed with his saliva seeped from you onto the bed.
every thrust from toji had your stomach fluttering.your pussy gripped his fingers tightly, he realized you were approaching your edge, which spurred him on to pound your pussy even more fiercely.
“damn,already? i wanted to have more fun.” he chuckled.
“f-feels s-so good,” you whined out.with one final glide of his fingers combined with a teasing lick of your clit, you found yourself reaching the peak of pleasure as your body arched in ecstasy.toji continued his movements, his fingers curling into that particular spot, you were a sobbing mess.
your stomach clenched , and before you could snap your legs closed you were squirting all over toji.he quickly retracted his fingers and rubbed your clit in hard circular motions,a wide smile on his face.
“squirt on me baby.”
surprise washed over you when he opened his mouth and started drinking your fluids, collecting each drop from you with his agile movements. your arms grew weak, and your back slammed against the sofa arm.
when he finally pulled away, a string of your juices mixed with his saliva broke.the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness, you beckoned toji with your pointer finger. he wastes no time wrapping his hands around you, crashing his lips against yours, swiftly removing your shirt.
while his hands explored you, yours explored him.as you looked at him, your eyes traced the lines of his physique. his toned stomach and buff arms were a testament to his dedication and hard work as a boxer. each muscle, each curve of his body told a story of countless hours spent training and pushing his limits.
your gaze softened as you noticed the scars and bruises from his match. they were reminders of his strength and resilience, each one a badge of honor. you couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection and admiration for him.
you leaned in closer,lips gently brushing against the marks on his skin. you kissed each bruise and scar tenderly, as if your touch could somehow ease the pain and heal the wounds.
“they don’t hurt baby,” he said softly, thumb caressing your cheek lovingly.you nodded, fingers wrapping around the hem of his sweatpants and swiftly pulling them down.you gulped at his dick.It was easily nine inches long and had the girth of a soda can, you’d forgotten how big he fucking was.
as if he could read your mind he spoke up, “promise i won’t break you beautiful.”
your lip caught between your teeth and you nodded, a gasp of surprise leaving you when toji pulled you up and forced you to lay stomach first on the sofa.
the sound of moans engulfed the space as he penetrated you, stretching your sensitive pussy further than you ever thought possible with his full length.he was so fucking deep it felt like he was in your stomach.
your legs trembled with anticipation before he even started, you pressed your cheek against the cushion and closed your eyes.
“just breathe,”
the wind was knocked out of you as toji began pounding into you,your ass clapping against his stomach with each thrust of his hips.you cried out and gripped the edge of the sofa, he hadn’t even let you get fully adjusted and the sharp pain that encased your pussy had your head reeling.
“d-daddy!” you panted in pleasure, you felt so fucking good around his dick and it had his head light.your round ass jiggled with each movement,he spread your cheeks and let out a groan as he watched your greedy pussy lips suck on his dick each time he pulled out.
you felt pathetic underneath him, you could feel his hand pressing into the small of your back, forcing you to arch deeper.you whined in pleasure as he angled himself deeper into you.
“play with your pussy babe,” he husked,one hand placed on the small of your back whilst the other held your ass.”o-okay,” you whimpered, cheek still pressed against the sofa as you began rubbing your sensitive nub.
the sensation of his dick prodding into you and your clit being stimulated had you sounding like a wild animal.you hadn’t been fucked like this in a while and didn’t realize how much you missed it.you looked so fucking sexy to him,plump lips frowned, a thin coat of sweat glistening on your brown skin.
his knees buckled underneath him as he felt your hand grip around the base of his dick, stroking him as he pounded into you.”f-fuck,” he whined breathlessly, your stomach churned.his whines were so fucking pretty, they were a mix of deep and high pitched and it made you want to cum right then and there.you gripped his base so tight it had his head rolling back,he was fully consumed in pleasure as he thudded into you, fingers finding their way to your ponytail and forcing your head up.
“you’ve been waiting for this huh?”
you gulped down a moan,back arched as he wrapped your hair around his hand.
“y-yes.” you admitted breathlessly.
“i know baby.” he cooed,releasing your hair roughly causing your head to jut forward.he reveled in the feeling of your pussy around him,he couldn’t help but bury his face into your neck.his soft grunts and moans played like music in your ears,”you’re fucking me so good.” you moaned.
your soft voice spurred him on, he was nearing his end and quick.he didn’t want to finish so quickly,but the way you spoke,felt, and even the way you always fucking smelled like strawberry shortcake had his stomach filled with knots.he retracted himself from your neck and grasped your ass with both hands,using it as leverage as he drilled into you. he refused to come before you did.
“fuck toji! I’m so close!” tears cascaded down your cheeks as you placed both hands back onto the sofa, bracing yourself.he was fucking you with more passion, more desire and it had you in shambles.you couldn’t help but let your hand find its way back on your sensitive clit, rubbing in time with toji’s thrust.
”a-ah!” you sobbed as you feel his swollen tip prod against your g-spot.
“found it.” he chuckled and you cried out underneath him each time he pressed against the spot.your entire body was shivering from pleasure as he bucked his hips into you mercilessly.your back arched as you felt the pressure in your stomach release, you were a whiny, cumming ,mess and it made toji even harder.
“creaming on my dick like a good girl.” he grunted admiring the sight, a ring of cream covered his dick and stuck to his pubes.he found the sight erotic,and with another buck of his hips he was cumming on your back.his eyes shut tightly as he stroked himself, spurts of hot cum trailing down your back onto your ass.
“good ass pussy.” he shakily stated,pulling you up and turning you around.his soft lips were back on yours, kissing you softly.you moaned,wrapping your arms around his neck.he couldn’t get enough of you, he needed more, he wasn’t ready to stop.he gently placed you down on your back and settled between your legs,your jaw falling slack as he pushed back inside of you, his deep moans mixing with your higher pitched ones.
your legs wrapped around him burying him deeper into your weeping cunt.
that night, you were wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in the passion and love that flowed between you.every touch, every kiss, was filled with an intensity that seemed to transcend time. the two of you made love all night, bodies moving in perfect harmony, hearts beating as one.
nine stressful months later, you find yourself holding your beautiful baby in your arms. it was hard to believe that this tiny, perfect being was created from that night of pure, unbridled love. as you look down at your child, you feel an overwhelming sense of awe and wonder.
you remember the way you held each other, the way you two whispered sweet nothings in the dark. those moments of intimacy and connection have now given you two the greatest gift of all. your baby’s eyes flutter open, and you see a reflection of both toji and you in those innocent, curious eyes.
tears fill your eyes as you think about the journey the two of you have been on, the love that has brought you to this moment. holding your baby, you feel a deep, unbreakable bond with both of them. your love has created a new life, a new chapter in the story.
as you cradle the child, you whisper promises of love and protection.in your heart, you know that this is just the beginning of a beautiful, lifelong journey together.
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@ CINNN4MON ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.DO NOT STEAL OR MODIFY.
to have this life, sigh.
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eddiesxangel · 11 months ago
Text
Babydoll| Dom!Eddie
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Cw: porn with a slight plot, daddy kink, mechanic!Eddie, dom Eddie/sub reader relationship, reader referred to with pet names (babydoll, babygirl) oral (f receiving), lots of dirty talk, p in v, eddie and reader are in their mid 20’s
Summary: You're having a hard week, and your bf knows just the cure.
wc:2.2.k
This week has been challenging. Work had been a nightmare; you had been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. You were drained physically, mentally, and emotionally; you were exhausted. So when you get home to see your man, Eddie, on the couch after work, already cleaned up from the grime and oil he has to endure, you can’t help but crawl into his lap.
You tell him you didn’t have time to breathe these past four days. You told him that everyone needed you then and there and that you didn’t even have time to finish your regular duties. You were at your breaking point…he could see it on your face when you walked through the door.
Eddie knew what he had to do. He had to take control. He usually does, but when you’re in dire need, such as this week, he had to help you relax. He had to help you forget about everything and anything. You needed to have your mind numbed, and he knew just how to get you into that space.
“I’m sorry, baby girl, you should have told me earlier in the week. You know you can always talk to me.” Eddie caressed the back of your head before wrapping his arms around you in a protective hug.
“I know,” you sniffled, “but I didn’t wanna burden you; you’ve been so busy at the shop, and I didn’t want my stress being your stress,” you stressed. This was the problem: you didn’t know how to dump all of your stuff onto others healthily. You usually held it in until you exploded. Usually, you exploded alone in your room, but being with Eddie seemed to make everything better. He made everything better.
“No. None of that. You need to know when you can come to your Daddy, okay?” Eddie pulled back to tilt your chin up and look you in the eyes.
“Oh,” your voice stammered as your stomach did a backflip. So that’s how tonight was going to go.
“Now, be a good girl and sit up.” You obeyed and wrapped one leg over his waist so you could be straddling him.
“There she is, there is, my pretty girl.” You still blush at his praises, even after all this time.
Eddie reached out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “You want me to make you feel good, baby?” He cooed.
You slightly nod your head. God you needed to let go, to no longer have control. You trusted Eddie with every fibre of your being.
“Words babydoll.
“Yes, Daddy."
“Good girl.” He traced your cheek with his rough calloused fingers. Before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You could still smell a hit of motor oil permanently attached to his scent, but you didn’t mind. It’s what made him your Eddie.
You leaned your head into his touch; he was so gentle, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. Not when you two played like this.
You watched as Eddie tilted his head so his lips could reach yours. A soft and gentle kiss at first, nothing but PG 13. That was until a small moan left your lips. You wanted and needed more. Your hips were on autopilot as you started grinding back and forth in his lap. His rough jeans felt so nice under your clothed pussy, the friction was just right, especially with his hardening cock coming to life under you.
“Take what you need. Tonight it’s all about you. Take what's yours.” Eddie whispered even though it was only the two of you in the apartment unit. His big hands gripped each cheek of your ass and helped guide you. Your pussy wax throbbing, getting wetter with each of his words.
“Daddy, I want more.” You let out a shaky breath. Yes the jeans were nice but they would never satisfy.
“What does my baby need?” He cocked his head.
“You”
“My, what? Baby girl, use your words.”
“Your everything, Daddy.”
Eddie didn’t push any further. Tonight, he knew you couldn’t take the constant pestering for specifics he usually puts you through.
“Okay, baby, I’m here. Your Daddy’s got you.” With that, he stood with you still wrapped around his waist and carried you into the bedroom. When you first started going out, you were so scared you were too heavy for him, but then he reminded you he lifted tires that weigh hundreds of pounds for a living. So the way Eddie was carrying you now didn't seem to phase him.
He placed you down so you stood on your own two feet and let you know he was going to undress you. Once you were entirely naked, he gently laid you down on the bed.
“There you go sweetheart, all you have to do is lay there and look pretty.” The way you were looking at Eddie made his cock stand up even more than it had been when you were on the couch. He couldn't wait to have his way with you. He was so excited to play with you.
Your delicate hand slowly trailed down your body, but Eddie pushed it out of the way before it reached its destination. “Not too fast, sweetheart, this is my pussy, and you know I don’t like to share.” He tutted.
“M’sorry, Daddy.”
“I’m going to let it slide this time, but don’t get used to it.” His tone was stern, you knew he wasn’t fucking around tonight.
“Yes, Daddy.” You bite your lip. You were starting to completely forget about the troubles you had faced merely an hour ago.
“Good girl,” Eddie spoke as he stripped. “Now, where to start first?”
You knew he wasn’t asking you, it was a rhetorical question, but you so wanted to tell him your pussy. Your clit was screaming at you; you could feel your heartbeat down there at this point.
“Please!” you whine.
“Patients darling.”
You pout at his words. You needed him, he knew how badly you needed him. You could feel your arousal seeping out of you as it trailed down your inter thighs.
“I need you now.” You spread your legs ever wider to prove how needy your pussy had gotten for him, so he could see everything.
“Fuck baby, you’re killing me.” Eddie groaned and dove head-first into your pussy. You let out a sigh of relief when his soft warm lips come into contact with your pussy lips. His hands reached up, never forgetting about your breasts. He teased and tugged at each nipple sending a ripple of pleasure through your body.
“You’re always so sweet for me, aren't you, babydoll?” He moved his free hand to stroke your clit with his index finger as he spoke. “Who’s this pussy belong to?”
“Yes, Daddy, only you.” It was so meek, but he still heard it in the silence of the bedroom.
“Good.” Eddie dove back in. His mouth attacked your clit until you were seeing starts. His tongue wrapped around your clit and pussy lips before lapping into your drenched hole. You gripped his hair as your body went into autopilot again. Your brain was finally shutting off completely; you forgot about everything and anything that wasn't Eddie. All you could focus one was the feeling of pleasure building inside of you as you ride Eddie’s face.
“You’re doing so good for me." He praised. "I want you to come on my mouth before you get to come on my cock a few times…. How does that sound?”
“Mmmmhmmpf,” you managed to nod your head, and your hips continued to grind Eddie’s face. You used his mouth to get off and you finally exploded. That’s all you wanted was to feel good, and Eddie always gave that to you.
“I'm coming!” You cried before yelling out Eddie’s name.
“Good girl.” Eddie kissed your clit once before giving your clit a slight slap making your body jerk, continuing to ride out your first orgasm.
"You want to make Daddy feel good now, don't you?” He asked, and you nodded your head dumbly. You needed to have him feel good and you did, you would give him the world if he asked. “That's it, there's my good girl." He smirked as he sat up to align his angry red cock at your gooey entrance.
“You ready for me?” He asked permission like he always does. And you nodded like you always do, as if you would say no? But if you ever did you knew Eddie would roll right off and cuddle you the rest of the night.
“Words, baby, I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes I want you to fuck me, Daddy!” you answered.
Eddie could see your eyes were glazed over with lust. He knew he had you in his favourite place. Cock drunk and needy... just for him.
"Daddy is going to fill your pretty little pussy right to the brim and then keep fucking you until you can’t think anymore, that okay with you baby girl?"
“Okay, Daddy.” You let out a shaky breath in anticipation. His words make your pussy flutter once again. His mouth always made you wet in more ways than one.
Eddie took his cock by the shaft and slapped your very sensitive clit a few times with the head before he ran it up and down your slit a few times to collect your slick so he could slip in smoothly but you still winced at the size of him.
"I know, baby girl, Daddy's cock is so big, but you can take it."
“I can.” You countered back.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He is cock slid in without any hesitation. He made it to the hilt, and you finally felt complete. Like a missing piece of you was found.
Eddie slowly pulled back before slowly pumping back into you, gaining speed with each delicious pump. He watched as his thick long cock disappeared inside of you.
“You feel that babydoll? I’m so deep inside you I can see it in your stomach.” He pressed a hand down onto your lower stomach, and you let out a long, drawn out moan.
“Oh god! Fuck right there!” It was like a bolt of lightning ran through you.
“Ohhh oh, oh yes! That’s it squeeze my cock, you’re going to milk me so good” His eyes squeezed shut, trying not to cum until you’ve had your fair share.
“Please I’m so close!” The feeling inside you quickly built back up.
“I know, baby. Let go for me.” His hand trailed down to your overly swollen clit. He rubbed quick little circles until he felt your walls clamp down on him. Your body was washed over with another wave of pleasure.
“God you squeeze me so good” he gritted through his teeth. Again refusing to cum until he gave you one more. Eddie pulled out before he could bust inside of you too soon. You let out a cry at the loss of Eddie’s contact. Eddie could see your tight hole closing in on its wild again as he pulled out.
The loss of contact didn’t last long as his thick fingers replaced his cock. He watched intently as his fingers stretched you out once again. They swam in your slick before he brought them to your lips.
“Taste how sweet you are, babydoll.” He grabbed your jaw to open your mouth and slipped his fingers inside of your mouth. You could taste the mix of you and Eddie on your tongue.
“God, you have the prettiest lips. Can’t wait until they are wrapped around my cock later.” You swirled your tongue around his fingers and hummed. Eddie’s eyes were full of lust as he observed you. You were lost in your own lust, all fucked out and needy. You hardly were processing Eddie’s words.
"Now baby, you're gonna take all of Daddy's cum, and then we are going to make sure it stays in there all night long. Okay? Gotta breed this pussy so good so everyone knows who you belong to.”
“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned in a daze. The thought of Eddie filling you made your head spin. Having a part of him growing inside you, god, you needed it more than air to breathe.
Eddie doesn’t hesitate to manhandle you and flip you over into all fours, and you let out an oomph before you feel his strong hands grip each hip. Your body feels like it’s on fire as his thick cock slams back into your wanton pussy. He then gabs both of your hands and holds them behind your back as your chest falls onto the plush bedding. And then he rides you. He fucks into like there will be no tomorrow.
“Fuckin’ love this needed little pussy, love it so much.” Eddie slammed into you between each word. “Love it ever better when it’s been bread with my cum.”
“Yes!
“You going to let me own this body?”
“Yes, Daddy, please!” You cried. His cock was grazing your G spot with each pump. Having eddies cock stretch and pump into you never failed to make you moan.
“Show me what’s mine baby, yea that’s it arch your back for me.” Eddie loved you in this position because it was when you were the most obedient. You were so playable you would do almost anything he asked of you when he had you bend over like this. It was also when you were the loudest without realizing it. All fucked out and cock drunk, not aware of your noises.
“Oh fuck, scream my name! Let everyone know who owns this pussy!” He cheered as he slapped your ass.
“Daddy!!” You scream because your throbbing pussy can’t take anymore. Your third orgasm is washing over you before you know what is happening. Your whole body felt like it was on fire but like you were also floating simultaneously.
Finally, Eddie can breed your pussy. “Gunna fills this pussy” Eddie lets out a loud grunt as he cums inside you. His cock twitches inside of you, releasing his hot sticky cum inside.
Eddie pumps his cock two more times, making sure it stays inside of you before he pulls out.
Your limp body is flopped on the bed, and Eddie pulls you into his chest.
“Thank you, baby,” you whispered as you returned to reality.
“I’ll always be here for you, baby girl.” He kisses you sweetly before you spend the rest of the evening in bed.
Tagging those who showed interest😈 @take-everything-you-can @reidsbtch @itsfreakingbats @lofaewrites
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anantaru · 5 months ago
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Blade comforing s/o from an overwhelming situation? 🥹🥹
・✶ 。 synopsis — blade instantly sees that you were having a rough day, on the brink of tears and shaking, so he did what every boyfriend should do, meaning to be there for you <3
warnings — none, fem! reader, fluff, established relationship, reader is sad, cute protective boyfriend blade <3 calls you: love, my girl, he kisses your forehead
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your entire day consisted of a chaotic swirl enhanced with noises and movements from left to right— people rushing past all directions while bumping into you, their voices merging into a deafening grating that made your head practically spin off your body.
is this really it? you don't think you can escape those masses, in fact, you still needed to fight at the end of your day with something like this even after the suffering you've just had to endure?
you were already having a rough day, yes, from the start, yet a series of small frustrations piled up until you felt like you were carrying a mountain on your shoulders, a heavy weight that was gradually taking all your room to breathe.
and this nasty crowd was certainly the final straw to you.
alas, you wouldn't let yourself get pushed and touched by random strangers and rushed your way through the exit of your work, your heart pounding in your chest, each breath coming faster and faster as you fought to keep the rising tide of panic at bay— it's not like this hasn't happened before but today, even your vision blurred with unshed tears, the world around you becoming an overwhelming blur of emotions that made you want to scream.
"sorry, excuse me, uh," you mumble, not sure if anyone heard you or even cared to let you pass through.
people, who were as eager as you to leave their work were relentless, disrespectfully pushing and shoving, their indifferent faces blurring together in your mind as you've gotten dizzy by the time you were able to move again.
you awkwardly stumble into a corner, desperately trying to catch your breath— although just as you were about to lose your grip completely, a dark, handsome figure emerged from the crowd, yet not walking towards the exit, but you.
blade. your boyfriend blade. the man which could surprisingly find out a solution to yet about every problem.
he moves with a purpose, his eyes scanning the area until they finally lock onto your teary ones. and the moment he saw your tear-streaked face and trembling form just standing there while being surrounded by a bunch of people, his expression softened and tensed in unison.
without a word and wasting more time, he closes the distance between you within a couple steps and immediately pulled you into his arms.
ugh, you can finally breathe again and take in his signature cologne.
his hug was warm, his entire body like the softest pillow, his frame feeling like home and being grounding, his presence too, immediately cutting through the chaos and bringing you a sense of instant safety.
"hey, it's okay, i apologize for being late," he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble against your ear, but he notices the constant trembles on your body before securely kissing your forehead, "i've got you."
you clung to him, it's almost embarrassing by how strong your arms were locked around his waist as you were burying your face into his chest, the first out of your many tears finally breaking free— like your body telling you that it was okay to cry now. blade was here.
hot and in masses, the crystalline liquid soaks into his garments as you let out all the frustration— or panic? more so fear, and the exhaustion that had been building up inside of you for the entirety of your gruesome day.
but blade didn't say anything, nor did he really need to add something— instead, he just held you, his hands constantly rubbing soothing circles on your back as you cried your heart out to him.
blade was gentle with you, always, and he never expected you to be on your upmost, most perfect demeanor whenever you two met up. the way he had everything under control without actually lifting a finger came due to his calm presence which was like a balm to your burned nerves, the solid feel of his strong chest pressed against your face grounding you in a way nothing else could.
minutes passed, and slowly, your sobs began to subside, your breathing evening out as the storm of emotions gradually drowns away.
he didn't let go of you right away, he wouldn't want to— and well, blade continued to hold you, yes, he always will, his hands never stopped their gentle motions around the slopes of your body, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm against your ear.
when you slowly pulled back, your eyes emerged with a puffiness and slight redness taking over your eyes— although such really didn't matter now, because the panic inside had receded, fallen off your shoulders and replaced by a warm love.
the man looked down, admiring your puffy cheeks and slightly embarrassed eyes, his gaze soft and filled with an understanding that brought a fresh wave of love which entered your heart immediately.
"feeling a bit better love? i can pick you up more often if you want to," he asks sternly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek.
as a response, you nod shyly before sniffling a little, "yeah, it's okay now, thank you, blade, ugh, this is so embarrassing i just didn't know what to do."
"everything just felt like too much all of a sudden, you know?"
his large palms don't leave your face, his touch always gentle when he held you, "it's okay, it's not your fault," he continues softly.
"don't apologize, it's not your fault and remember you're not alone, okay? i'm here for you love, always, i will do whatever it takes to make it better."
you continue to lean into his chest, unable to let go before taking a deep, steadying breath, "i don't know what i would have done if you hadn't been here."
"i'm sorry you had such a rough day," he returns, kissing your forehead as his hands squeeze your cheeks, "but i'm proud of you my girl, yeah?" as his arms wrap around you like two pillows covering your shaken frame, "for getting through it anyways."
and as you held onto him, as you felt and accepted the strength and love enveloping you wholly, you were aware that no matter how overwhelming life got at times, you would never have to face it alone.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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bamfkeeper · 18 days ago
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Blue Helpers.
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RQ: 'Can I request reader (established relationship with night crawler) where reader is sick and the barmfs get so worried and try to take care of her, along side hurt' - @lillycore
Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader | warnings: Sick/illness themes
a/n: Doing quick little requests because I've been busy, I'm sorry 💔 I hope you enjoy this little drabble. Unedited. ;; wc: 1.0k
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You coughed violently, your body shaking with each forceful expulsion of air.
As the fit subsided, you sank back into your bed, pulling the comforter tightly around you in a desperate attempt to find comfort. The pressure in your sinuses was relentless, a constant ache that seemed to radiate through your entire skull. It had been years since you'd fallen ill like this, and the sudden onset of sickness a few days ago had caught you completely off guard. You thought it was maybe food poisoning, but there was no way food caused you to be this sick.
Since then, you'd been confined to your bed, your body too weak to do much more than sleep fitfully and endure the various symptoms plaguing you. The combination of fever, congestion, and overall malaise left you feeling utterly gross, as if your own body had betrayed you.
Your persistent coughing didn't go unnoticed. The little blue imps were curious and concerned, cautiously making their way into your bedroom. They climbed onto the bed, their large yellow eyes blinking rapidly as they observed your weakened state. Their usual energy subdued with worry as they saw just how weak you were, radiating illness from your body. They stretched out their tiny arms towards you, but maintained a respectful distance, unsure of how to help or what to do. The bamfs huddled together at the foot of the bed, their gazes never leaving you as they tried to make sense of your condition.
It was clear to them that you were unwell - your pale complexion, the sheen of sweat on your brow, and your labored breathing were obvious signs. In their limited understanding, they couldn't comprehend why this illness had rendered you so completely incapacitated, so unlike your usual vibrant self.
One of the bamfs chirped softly, its tiny feet pattering across the bed as it approached you. It nuzzled against your cheek, its velvety body held a comforting warmth that provided a momentary respite from the discomfort of your fever. The gesture brought a weak smile to your face, despite your illness.
"Ach, kleine Schätze...bitte, give them some space," Kurt gently admonished, his voice a soothing murmur as he entered the room carrying a steaming bowl. He placed the bowl on the nightstand and lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress. His golden eyes met yours as he spoke softly, "Liebe...you must be feeling dreadful. Your temperature is quite high."
He reached out, his cool hand brushing against your forehead in a tender gesture. A reassuring smile played on his lips as he continued, "But fear not, I've brought something that should help."
Kurt lifted the bowl, wisps of steam rising from its contents. "I've prepared some Kartoffelsuppe for you," he explained, his voice warm with nostalgia. "It's a special recipe, freshly made and piping hot. My mother used to make this very soup for me whenever I fell ill as a child. It always seemed to work wonders."
You lifted your head weakly, mustering a faint smile despite your exhaustion. "It does smell good..." you murmured, the aroma of the soup tantalizing your senses. With some assistance from Kurt, you managed to sit up a bit more, your body still feeling fragile and unsteady. Kurt adjusted himself to sit closer, carefully holding the spoon out for you, his movements slow and deliberate to ensure your comfort.
As the spoon touched your lips, you savored each small sip. The soup was a symphony of flavors, each taste bud awakening to the rich, comforting blend. The warmth of the liquid spread through your body, contrasting to the chills of your fever. You knew you probably shouldn’t be eating hot soup with a temperature, but the soothing heat of the soup in your belly felt like a balm to your ailing body. You couldn't help but appreciate the deliciousness of the meal, a small pleasure in your current state of discomfort.
"Ugh, it's delicious, Kurt..." You sighed, savoring the food and relieved your stubborn stomach was accepting of the meal instead of instantly making you vomit it all up.
The bamfs huddled around you, their large eyes filled with concern as they observed Kurt feeding you. Their tiny forms pressed close, offering what comfort they could through their presence. Their simple minds grappled with the concept of your weakness as they witnessed Kurt carefully spoon feeding you.
If you were too frail to feed yourself, how could you possibly manage anything else? The sight of you in such a vulnerable state clearly distressed them, their usual playful demeanor gone as they made soft whining sounds against you. Their attachment to you was evident in every worried glance and gentle touch, they had become so needy for you ever since you and Kurt became an item, and they hated seeing you hurt in any way.
After finishing your meal, Kurt excused himself to fetch some medicine, leaving you to rest and recuperate. The bamfs remained gathered around you, their concern evident in their actions. With an eagerness to assist after seeing Kurt giving you food, they took it upon themselves to tend to your needs in his absence.
Their tiny hands struggled but managed to lift the large glass of water, offering it to you for a refreshing sip whenever you tried to reach for it yourself. They replaced the cool, damp cloth on your forehead after the rag had become too warm, splaying it on your forehead perfectly each time. The sweet things even attempted to massage your aching muscles with their small, three-fingered hands.
These loyal little imps refused to leave your side, their presence a constant and unwavering. When Kurt returned, he found you curled up on your side, surrounded by a protective cocoon of blue bamfs. They had nestled themselves against your belly and back, with some even perched atop you. Their warm, sleepy bodies provided a soothing heat, carefully balanced so as not to overheat you in your fragile state.
This living blanket of bamfs offered both physical warmth and emotional comfort, even with the few that had managed to weasel their way under your arm like teddy bears.
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Thanks for reading <3
*BAMF*
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Dividers by @/adornedwithlight | Photos on Pinterest, Bamfs from Nightcrawler 2014
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the-mandawhor1an · 3 months ago
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Have a taste - Mand'alor!Din Djarin x Wife!Reader
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reader can look however you want her to, there are no physical features mentioned, the images are for vibes only
Synopsis: Din is mesmerized by the changes your body has gone through after giving birth to your first child. He's taking special interest in your boobs this fateful evening.
Words: 1.7k
THIS IS ACTUAL, EXPLICIT SMUT! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS IS YOUR WARNING!
A/N: I blame unhinged discord convos for this. My first proper smutty smut. This was interesting to say the least. Yeah, the images are medicore photoshop, they display the vibes perfectly, though. Thank you @evolnoomym for beta-ing and encouraging me that this filth is not utter shit.
Tags: explicit language; unprotected PiV; lactation/breastfeeding kink; itty bitty breeding kink; established relationship; reader is afab and has given birth; reader has boobs; reader is a force user;
divider and support banner made by @saradika-graphics; title banner made by yours truly
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Having children sounded so hard in theory. Exhausting, long days and short nights with constant disturbances. Long recovery, emotions, pain. In reality, you were fortunate to say, it turned out so much better. 
The physical part was easy. You were a Jedi after all, so your body could bounce back pretty fast – thank the force for healing powers. Although, it was only made possible because of the devotion of your husband to support you where he could. Now that his son was here, he was glued to the newborn whenever you needed to rest, ensuring ‘mama’ was healthy. 
To be fair, Mand’alor Djarin enjoyed boasting about his son and how proud he was of you enduring all of the discomfort during your pregnancy, all of your pains and cravings, and even the birth. You were the strongest warrior he’s ever known. He had told you more than once. 
He loved you deeply and dearly, as he loved the child you had given him. A little mix of him and you. While babies were mostly soft and squishy and their facial features were barely visible, your son had his father’s eyes. And his nose looked suspiciously like your own, just smaller and still a little chubby. Every time you saw Din with your son, how in love he was with this small human, you wanted to do it all over again. 
And you would. 
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With the child fed and sound asleep, you and your husband finally had some much needed time for yourselves. Time to focus on the little joys of marital life you had craved for so long.
You sat on his lap, his cock deeply embedded in you, as you rolled your hips against his. He was propped up against some pillows so he was halfway upright, both of your hands on his chest while his held onto your hips. Perhaps it was too soon to return to having sex, but your body was technically healed, no matter how recently you might have given birth. It couldn’t be soon enough, you had been yearning for him ever since your belly had become too big to find any comfortable position to make love in.
As good as it felt to finally get what you wanted, Din’s demeanor was off-putting, to say the least. Usually he was very vocal, blessing you with moans and little praises, which were completely missing this time around. As soon as you had sat down on him and lifted your shirt, it was like he was somewhere else entirely. You had hoped he would fall back into his ways, but no matter how hard you squeezed him, nothing besides a single grunt had escaped his lips. 
Frustrated, you sighed, halted your movements and looked down to his face. »Do I not feel good?« you asked and rested a hand on his cheek. Like he was shaken out of his trance, his dark eyes found you and he furrowed his brows. »I’m sorry, cyar’ika. I’m…« He didn’t finish his sentence, unsure what to tell you.
Something was wrong and it stung a bit that he didn’t tell you. »Do you want me to stop?« you asked. His hands detached from your hip to caress over your skin, his thumbs tracing over your upper belly. »No.« You huffed and tilted your head to the side. »I’m getting mixed signals, cyare. What are you thinking about?« 
His hands wandered upwards until they rested just under your boobs. He lifted them gently, well aware that you were probably sensitive. They had grown significantly now that you were breastfeeding, but the weight that temporarily lifted off of you made you sigh and lean into his touch. 
You felt his cock twitch inside of you when he touched your supple flesh. »Do you like them?« you asked when you finally connected the dots. You felt him scan every last bit of your chest and continued »I’m sorry, I’m a little lopsided. Ad’ika only really latches onto the left one.« »Do they hurt?« His eyes were glued to your breasts while you talked. You didn’t mind as you finally had his attention. »The nipple is a bit sore. And the right one … well. I feel like it’ll burst soon. I’m a little afraid I will get an obstruction if he doesn’t accept that one soon.« 
Din carefully squeezed your breasts, but flinched when you whined. He just wanted to feel them, their weight and how tight they were, it was never his intention to hurt you. Still, that little squeeze made him groan. »Does an obstruction hurt?« he asked. You nodded. »It hurts and I could get an infection from that. Not necessarily life threatening but I’d like to avoid it at all cost.« His eyes were still staring at your breast and you chuckled. »Do you want a taste, my love?« His eyes shot up to yours again, shimmering, reminding you of a puppy. »You’re joking, right?« You shook your head. »I know a hungry baby when I see one, believe me. Besides… if that’s what’ll keep me from being in pain, go ahead.« 
»But… I’m not…« Din stammered, flustered by your offer. Maybe you were a little more relaxed about that than he was. You were terribly horny and if that’s what got him off, why not? It’s not like you would tell anyone. 
You placed your right hand onto his, effectively guiding him to massage your boob until you felt a drop of milk collecting on your nipple. You picked it up with your index finger and guided it to his mouth. »Open up,« you purred and watched in delight as he parted his lips. Your finger slipped past and touched his tongue. You felt another twitch in his cock as you pulled back. A second drop of milk fell from you and dripped onto his stomach. 
»How is it?« 
You were curious. It’s not like your son could tell you what it tasted like. And to be fair, tasting yourself is nothing that had come to your mind until now. »You’re sweet,« he groaned. Undeniably, that turned him on, to have you dripping for him from more than one spot now. He straightened his back to kiss along your collarbone, slowly working his lips down your breast. »Sweeter than your cunt. Intoxicating.« The stubble on his face was a little rough for your skin, but you liked the subtle burn it left. His tongue dragged over your nipple before another drop could fall, and you both softly moaned. 
»Please, fuck me cyar’ika,« he pleaded as he latched onto your breast, sucking until you felt some of the pressure release. 
As if you were distracted by the situation and needed to be pulled back to reality, his hands grabbed your hips again and guided you to move while he growled against your flesh. Now you twitched around him, earning another groan and a »move,« before he practically buried half of his face in your breast. 
Holding onto his shoulder and the back of his head, you lifted your hips and moved as best as you could without making him have to detach from you. Something about him hanging onto you for dear life, holding onto your hips so hard it would leave bruises and growling whenever he feared you’d unlatch him made your heart flutter and your orgasm approach so much faster. 
You weren’t the only one affected by this situation, as his deep moans vibrated into your chest and you felt him writhe underneath you. His hands practically slammed you down onto his cock, the tip kissing your cervix just how you needed. You wouldn’t last long like this, and he wouldn’t either. As much as you might regret the roughness you were subjecting your body to in this current moment, something primal took over. You were too sensitive and feeling every breath he took, every little noise he made, on your skin sent shivers down your whole body. You felt the tense buildup in your core, your breath quickening as more and more noises stumbled from your puffy lips. 
»Cyar’ika I won’t last long,« you managed to press forward in between moans, only hearing grunts from him in response. »I love you so much. So much,« you whined, overtaken by the sensations and tears forming in your eyes. You’ve never felt so overstimulated before. »Please give me another baby, Din. Please,« you begged your husband in desperation, not able to stop the babbling as you feared you would lose your mind. 
That was it. His nails dug into your skin as he pulled you down, reaching as deep as he could, pushing his hip up from the mattress to nudge himself right into your cervix as he pumped his seed inside of you. The noises he made were feral, somewhere in between a growl, a whine, and a muffled moan, increasing in volume with every twitch he made inside of you. 
You didn’t come, but you were fine with that for the time being. Your thoughts raced around the little confession you had made just now. You knew it was too soon to try for another baby and this was the first time you had ever spoken that wish out loud. Judging by his reaction he was on board, but you needed to talk about that in earnest. 
With a pop he unlatched from your breast and looked up at you. It seemed like tears were sparkling in the corners of his eyes as well. »You want another baby?« he whispered. His voice was so soft and fragile, it almost made you cry. »When the time is right,« you replied and cupped his cheeks in your hands, resting your forehead against his. »I doubt I can get pregnant again so quickly.« 
He straightened his back to kiss you. You tasted the remainder of yourself on his tongue, and he was right – you were sweet. When your lips parted, he sounded a little more like himself again, warm and raspy. »You didn’t cum, my love.« 
»It’s okay,« you reassured him and pressed another kiss onto his lips. »But I want you to,« he groaned and pressed more kisses along your jaw, nibbling on your skin in between kisses. »I want to fuck another baby into you right now,« he whispered against your skin. »I’d like to see you try.« »Oh I will try, I promise.« 
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little translation for the Mando'a phrases:
Cyar'ika - Darling
Cyare - Beloved
Ad'ika - endearing term for a child
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sunny-mercya · 11 months ago
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Sensitive Heart
Poly! Billy Loomis & Stu Macher x Male Reader
Fandom -> Scream 1996
Requested by -> Anon
Masterlist
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Sidney had become quick to learn, that you're a rather sensible—if not even overstimulated sensitive—boy.
Most things; be it a large crowd, people accidentally bumping into you or someone saying something you had difficulty to understand—hell, even the most mundane compliment; you look really good today—brought you to tears.
And on some days, wether if they are bad or good ones, you would cry for an eternality of hours—exhausting yourself with a sore throat sobbing.
Throughout the school years, you had spend more time in the nursery office thanks to this—whatever and however it's called, Sidney doesn't bother to remember—than being actually injured.
Tatum, who had heard from Stacy—and she had it being told from Mackenzie, who had gotten told it from Helena—the nurses daughter—told Sidney once, that your over sensitivity of personality has been coming from your mother.
Your mother who had pampered you into a suffocating and constant anxious panic. She was a kind soul, with her off shrugging absently affectionate, but treating you well still.
Although, when you were at the age of ten—having been in the hospital again, because of your mother—your father had enough, filled a divorce and complete custody over you and told his ex-wife to leave.
So now, Sidney had to endure your tears filled stuttering jumble of words while accompanying you, yet again, to the nurse office.
Please god, she thought, end me. Holding back a groan, simply nodding along to what you're trying to say. If she's telling you to shut up, you would probably cry a flood then.
~~~
The cold wet washcloth always felt good over your burning irritated eyes. Cooling them off and bringing a sort of pain relief to them.
Mrs. Westbrock had left the office, after assessing you down onto the bed and giving you a glass of water and headache-pills. Nothing new, a normal occurrence for you to be alone—till school hours ended—in the nurse office, when you had another rather server breakdown episode. Then again, every episode brought you to the office.
»Aww, at this point you should ask the Director to let you live rent-free here« Stu did his best to lower his voice, when stepping in. Knowing well how headache prone you would get and he also knows how loud his voice can be.
It must be lunch break or a free period or study all, otherwise Billy and Stu wouldn't be able to visit you. Then again, you wouldn't put it pass them to just skip a lesson or two—and you knew they had done already more than once.
»What was it this time babe?« asked Billy, sitting down onto the chair. Someone would say his tone, when asking you this question, is coming off as annoyed, rude and tutting. It wasn't. It was Billys way of asking you how you are and what the cause was.
You shrugged at him, rubbing your eyes and sitting up a bit—letting Stu prep kisses onto your face.
»I.....don't really remember anymore.«
Billy hummed, knowing well it was lie of you, watching you and Stu, the both of you conserving now over some Cartoon.
»Did Jules brought you here?«
»Nu-uh, it was Sydney,«
Billy nodded, they all were somewhat friends with Sidney, though somehow she always seemed to be irritated annoyed by your mere presence—not that you took notice if it, always busy to greet everyone happily, even when it was hard to do for you.
»[Name]. Tell us, what made you cry.« a bit demanding harsh he sounded, but how would he know if Billy didn't use a dominant force to bring you to speak.
»It, it–it was, someone talked about–about how killing is, is–is something and I got upset over it, because they talked so causally about it, but killing is–is–is bad and taking–taking a humans life is cruel«
You broke into another, new, round of tears. Sobbing into Stu's arms, who cooed at you lovely and giving you sloppy kisses on the cheeks again.
Oh, how innocent sweet you are. Thinking so naively and thoughtful about the world. Aren't you adorable?
~~~
It was weeks after, when Sidney came to the conclusion that the ominous masked—dubbed as Ghostface—killer, who tried to killer her, is Billy Loomis.
Sidney, when she got the chance, pulled you into an empty classroom, cornering you. Doing her best to look as threatening as she could, to make you confess.
She always found it strange how Billy (and Stu) could love someone like you—someone who's a crybaby, skittish and meek in personality. Too Sensitive for a boy to be.
But then she thought, you're the perfect alibi for Billy or perhaps even someone who knows that Billy is the murder.
»You know Billy is the killer, don't you [Name]?«
»What? What are you talking about Syd?«
»It's Sidney. Billy is the killer and you're either good at pretending to play clueless dumb, which you are though, or you're his partner. There aren't any other options.«
Sidney hated it how you pronounced her name so dumbly wrong. It's a simple name, how hard could it be to say it right? Apparently hard enough for you.
»Accusing someone, a friend even, of something so horrific is a cruel thing to do.«
»Oh? I didn't knew you could speak english without stuttering in sobbing.«
Your lips begun to wobble, biting softly onto them to stop the starting trembling—which would soon racked through your whole body. Eyes getting wet, tears ready to spill.
Sidney had no rights to accuse Billy like this and neither had she the right to be this mean to you. You hadn't done anything to make her upset, so why does she say such things?
She clicked her tongue in annoyance, gripping your arm tight when you were about to bold off.
»We both know I'm right. Whether you like it or not.«
You freed yourself from her, jerking your arm out of her grasp and bolting out of the room. At some point colliding with Jules, who was looking for you, scrambling up again and running even faster away.
A lie. It's a complete conspiracy bullshitting lie, what Sidney had said to you. It wasn't true, Billy isn't a killer.
~~~
»I'm home!« greeted Billy once he had open the front door and stepped in, closing if afterwards. Getting out of his jacket and hanging it up on, he made his way towards the kitchen.
Leaning against the frame of the kitchen-door, Billy watched you, smiling at the sight of you cooking today's lunch—dancing slightly to the music which the radio plays.
»You need help, darling?« he admits, spooking you up like this was—the way how you jerked together into surprise—always a fun thing to do.
»Oh, Billy! How was work? Sure sure, you can set the table and please get Stu« you pecked his lips, when he leaned down, snatching a piece of bacon from the cutting board.
»Where is he?«
»Upstairs, doing the laundry.« you had long returned to the cooking, resuming with what you had stopped.
Billy passed through the living room, stopping at the commode in the hallway, next to the stairs.
Photo frames over photos frames filled the commode, telling their own stories—from their graduation, first house, to marriage, to their honeymoon and then to their Kids and their first kindergarten and school day to the here and now.
There was one photo in particular, which both Stu and him are very found of. It still confuses the kids, who couldn't figure out why a photo of you crying was a found memory to keep and share.
To the kids they had told a story of how they always found it adorable, just how bunny like you were and wanted to capture the moment.
In truth though, it was the moment when the broke you—your spirit of will—and had you forever to love.
It was after Sidney had inflicted your pure heart with self-doubt and questionable unbelief towards Billy. You confronted him, breaking out in hysterical when Billy bluntly admits it with a shrug and when you were about to call the police—Stu stepped in, holding you tight in his arms as you trashed in his hold and shouting words at them you never wished to say again.
They had to break a few of your bones, scaring and threatening you completely in submissive—because if they don't, you wouldn't be able to continue with going to school with them and enjoy life, if they didn't had done it this way—they had to kill you and that would be a shame. After all you're their precious little darling.
It took a few years—after framing someone else for their killings and making Sidney an implausible witness in the polices eyes—to shape you into what your are now; a good submissive husband, who showers them in unconditionally love.
»[Name]'s adorable, isn't he Bills?« Stu trotted down the stairs, flashing a grin at Billy.
»You're right, he really is. I was just about to get you, laundry-boy«
»Funny, man. Urgh, my back hurts. I never do laundry again«
After lunch, when the kids had retired into their rooms or going out to spend time with friends. You and your husbands sat on the couch, cuddling against another and watching another round of romance movies.
Even after all these years, you couldn't stop your sensitivity and the spilling tears from your eyes.
Billy and Stu wouldn't have it any other way. They adored you how you are, in their eyes you're perfect.
»Have I told you, just how–how much I love–love you two?« you asked them in between sobs, romantic movies always made you so moody.
»You do plenty of times, precious. We love you just as much in return.«
Both Billy and Stu pressed a kiss against your lips, tasting your salty tears.
You're their little bunny.
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neetily · 3 months ago
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Without Shame — (SDV) Sebastian
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— ✧ warnings: Stepbro!Sebastian, pseudoincest, stepcest, Cheating, dubcon, Magic pocket pussy, mean sebastian, Name Calling, Cunnilingus, accidental creampie, Objectification, ruined orgasm, Fingering — ✧ word count: 7,617 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)
— ✧ A/N: reposting from my old account since i was asked to! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.
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Ever since he can recall, you’ve been a fucking brat. There’s no other way to put it quite so eloquently, he thinks. At least when it comes to interacting with him, which makes it all the more frustrating when you play innocent with others. Has him feeling  insane  when no one believes his claims that you’re evil, that he’d really rather be alone than stuck with you as a sibling, that everyone else is wrong when they call  him  the mean one. You play the role of innocent little sister well in public, and though part of him is genuinely impressed at your acting skills, he unfortunately knows the real you; and you’re so fucking annoying. Especially the way that you know exactly how to get away with your mistreatment of him, remaining undetected the moment a third party shows up so that he has to take the blame. Every. Single. Time.
Which is unfair, right? Unlike his usual sedentary lifestyle, the one constant that he can always count on in life is that you’ll surely be there to cause chaos for him. Whether that be from your  ‘playful’  comments about his appearance, making fun of his lifestyle choices and hobbies, or the fact that you’re quite literally  dating his best friend ; it’s fair to say that you’ve always annoyed him. Siblings fight, sure, but he’s never called you anything close to  sister  in his life, and he doesn’t plan on it. He didn’t grow up with you so much as you just showed up one day to ruin his life, strutting around like you already owned the place with that dumb smirk he so often sees you wear, in spite of the fact that  you  moved into  his  home. More than anything he refers to you only as  brat , because that’s what you are. An annoying, good for nothing, stupid little  brat  who needs to be put in her place. Particularly considering that you’ve never been told no before; maybe that’s why you bug him so often, because he’s not afraid to say what you hate most.
No, you can’t have that. No, that’s mine. No, I’m not staring at your ass.
What’s worse is that he can’t even hide how much you get to him, retaliating to your attacks with barks of his own every time, too afraid that if he doesn’t keep if with you that you’ll only bully him more. And it’s  exhausting  watching you prance around the house, usually in next to no clothing, teasing him at the dinner table with your nipples poking through your shirt—no bra again, despite his begs for you to wear one—until he eventually snaps at you to  shut up ; and then it’s him that gets punished for it!
Unfair is to word that suits you best. How you treat him, and how he feels about you. Because at the end of the day, he’s just a man. A man with a stupidly annoying hot step sister who provokes him day in and day out, teasing his perverted mind with just barely not enough; because you’re  mean  and  you fucking know it .
Tonight, he decides to change that.
For all the pranks you’ve had him endure, he’s got his own devious plan up his sleeve. Been sitting on it for a few nights, a pure fantasy that even now he barely thinks is even possible, prepared for it to all be a scam, but fuck it. He has to try. Anything to wipe that stupid smile off your cute face, regardless of morals. And you only have yourself to blame, your dumb… Hot self.  Fuck  he hates you. Hates the way his cock twitches every time you enter his room, even if he knows you’re only there to upset him. Hates the way his heart hurts when you show him your recent selfies with Sam, how his tummy turns when you only give up on teasing him because Sam is calling you, a thick layer of bile always on the tip of his tongue waiting to put you down.  It’s disgusting , the way he actually loves it.
He especially hates the cute little pout you wear when he does bites back, mimicking your words in a high pitched mocking tone just to hear you whine some more, standing tall above you only to talk down at you.  God , it makes him so hard just thinking about your teary eyes when he takes it a step too far, commenting on that one thing he knows you’re actually   insecure about and big fat tears travel down your chubby cheeks. So fucking hot making you sob for him, turning your otherwise pretty smile into an earnest scowl, like you  hate him . It’s what you deserve for being such an annoying fucking brat. If he can’t have you be nice for him, he’ll take punishing you into tears happily. He doesn’t care too much either way, because you’re pretty when you cry too.
And it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilt for looking at you with a lecherous gaze, but rather that he simply doesn’t care. Knowing that it’s wrong and yet still he gives in to his perverted nature by stroking his cock to thoughts of you, of shutting you up by filling your throat, driven by the seed of shame taking root in his tummy to pet his erection under his desk every time you moan for him to stop teasing. It’s the only thing that helps, to balm the pangs of remorse when a smirk tugs at his lips every time you cry wolf.
Which brings him to the item in his hands, spurred on to get back at you after you recently attempted to go into deep detail about your oh so fun little date with Sam the other day. It’s bad enough that you went against his wishes and started dating Sam in the first place—he has some choice words for his best friend too—but you make things worse by  indulging . Elaborating on what you love most about Sam, teasing intimate details that he’d rather not hear about; and acting oblivious to his glares. You know damn well how to rile him up just right, to get him on the edge of fighting back before retreating to the safety of your room, or worse, your father. No, he doesn't want to hear about how Sam took you home after your date last night, or about how rough his hands are on your plush thighs. It’s  gross , because deep down he wishes it was  him .
You should be thankful, really, that he’s going to such lengths to prank you. Only you would have him acting this desperate, squeezing the soft silicone toy in his shaking fists like a stress toy, his ass perched right on the edge of his computer chair as if it were the only barrier left before the point of no return. It was through the old man camping near his house that clued him in to the supposed wizard occupying the tower in Cindersap Forest, a claim that he initially passed off as a farce, but after your latest stunt of divulging disgusting details he decided it couldn’t hurt to ask for more information, just to amuse himself. A little fantasy of getting back at you, nothing more. Though, now that he’s got the supposed magical object in hand, he can’t help but bounce his leg off his old squeaky floor, giddy excitement resting heavy in his chest as he gives the rubber toy another squeeze, already panting at the thought of executing his plan.  Fuckin’ brat,  he smiles to himself.  Only gettin’ what’s comin’ t’ya .
It’s the first time he’s getting a proper look at the toy too, unable to give it a second thought until right now thanks to you. Your petulant attitude when he arrived home only irked him, solidified his decision to defile you tonight even more so when you taunted him about leaving the house and how  he never usually does and was he seeing a girl? A friend? Must have been really important if he left his room, right?  God, even just thinking about your teasing voice causes his brows to furrow in frustration, tongue clicking at the mere memory of your pestering, gripping the girth of the toy in his hands as if it were your throat.
Selfish desire gets the better of him though, and for as much fun as it is pretending to choke you out, it’s getting late and his mom will be back with your dad soon. Which means he hasn’t got much time left to ruin you, so, he carefully holds the toy up to his face for inspection. What greets him is all pink and  pretty , his throat immediately drying when he realises just how  attractive  it is. Then, quickly, upset crawls up to his tongue and hides behind his teeth when recalling how the wizard called it a  replica , and knowing that your cunt is apparently this pretty for real angers him. Like,  how dare you  be withholding such a pretty pussy from your big brother, right? Shouldn’t he get first dibs on it, and not  Sam . Suddenly, calling you sister sounds appealing to him, and he’s almost tempted to pull his pants down and shove his already throbbing erection into your little unprepared pretty pussy just to punish you for keeping this cunt out his reach. But he’s too busy instinctively pressing the pocket pussy against his face as close as he can get without actually touching it and huffing. Sniffing along your faux slit and immediately leaning back into his chair as your scent washes over him, overwhelming and clouding his judgement.  Fuck,  okay, maybe it really  is  linked to your cunt. And because he's not as mean as you like to portray him, he decides to indulge himself a little. Or, he's simply too selfish  not  to eat you out, eager to get a first taste of his little sister, to see if she's really worth all the hassle.
And he’s so close too,  God ; about as close to actually fucking you as he can get right now that he’s honestly a bit dizzy, jutting his hips forward so his bulge can roll against the air in a mimicked action of sex. It’s instinctual, convincing his quickly emptying mind that this must mean that it’s  right , that your cunt belongs to your mean big brother, his breath fanning across the faux lips in rushed bursts of barely there restraint. He wonders if you can feel him already, wearing a cute confused pout at the cooling feeling between your legs;  fuck , he can unfortunately imagine it perfectly, his free hand coming down to pet at his pulsing cock with light touch, just barely there to tease him like he’s teasing you. Because this is better than he ever thought it’d be, having all the benefit of your hole right in front of him without needing to put up with... Well, you, and he’s afraid that if he gives in to his more baser instincts too soon; he’ll cum before he gets to have his fun.
Inhaling your scent some more causes his eyes to roll to the back of his skull, imagining how  quiet  you must be in your room all alone; even there you usually talk too much, way too fucking loud and annoying. Is his sniffing shutting you up? Cock dripping precum already at the image of you shooting upright in bed, forgetting all about what you were previously doing because  something  is happening to your body, left completely unaware that your mean older brother has his face practically buried between your legs right now. That’d for sure leave you gasping, right? Make you all squirmy and cute, soft and pliable for once in your fucking life.
And thanks to his depraved mind, his tongue automatically pokes out at the thought of you  listening  to him for once, kitten licking at the fake slit while he holds his breath. A natural action, one that he isn’t immediately aware he’s doing before he can feel soft skin against his teeth. His mind is slow to catch up to whats happening, too distracted by the palm circling his perverted bulge into submission, but when he realises that his lips are in contact with the pocket pussy, he rolls his tongue up to the swell of it, sighing against the slit in satisfaction over how you taste so  perfect . The more he teases his tongue between your folds the wetter he finds the fake cunt getting, and noticing that the magic imbued in the object is  real  causes his hips to jerk up into his open palm, rolling together in tandem with how he licks your cunt.
A soft curse escapes him when a gush of slick reaches his taste buds, immediately swallowing your liquid down like a dog. One hand holding the pocket pussy to his lips, the other tugging at his leaking cock. “Big brother making you feel good?” He whispers against it, only proving to rile himself up further at the verbal admission of touching his little sister so inappropriately. And he's so soft and tender with his tongue too, a momentary lapse in judgement, forgetting all about your brattiness the moment his lips grazed your puffy cunt, hypnotised by the taste and smell of your tiny hole into providing kindness to you.  Pussydrunk . It causes his cock to flex under his touch, dribbling saliva onto the toy to make his tongue glide easier between your lips. “ Dummy …” He sighs into you, giving your cunt a trail of kisses from top to bottom, and then back up again, letting his tongue poke out between kisses as if he were making out with your cunt more than anything.  Really  making out with it, sloppy sounds included with how eagerly he smacks his lips against you, the accumulation of saliva sticking to his chin as he presses kiss after lick at your hole. He shifts around on his chair, sliding down it just a little more to get comfortable and pushing it out away from his desk, his legs automatically opening while he slobbers all over the faux cunt, pretending that you’re riding his face right now because  fuck that’s so fucking hot, yeah?  Need big brother to eat you out and make your cunt feel all better? “Gettin’ all wet an’ slick for big brother? Preparin’ for his cock?” he continues talking to himself, voice hushed and mocking before diving back in to kiss the toy, easily believing that you’re in the room with him from the way your slick dribbles down his throat.  Linked  to you in your room,  fuuuck  he wants to see your face  so bad . Wants to hear your little hushed gasps and moans, clinging on to him for assistance without realising that it’s  him  that’s making you feel all funny. You just need big bro to take care of you, right? Need big bro to help make you feel all better, to work out why you feel all funny down there, yeah? There’s no need to be with Sam baby, big brother is just downstairs and more than willing to help your wet little cunt out.
A rough cough crawls up his throat as he pulls away for some air, a string of saliva keeping his tongue connected to your hole. It doesn’t last very long though because he’s diving right back in before he even fills his lungs, gripping at his cock and shaking it a few times before  attempting  to jerk himself off, but his jeans are too tight and he’s too drunk on your cunt to pull his pants down. Too busy with flattening his tongue against your wet little slit, slurping and groaning against your cunt while he gets off to just your  taste ,  fuck , can practically  smell  how much you need him by now, pressing sloppy kisses against your puffy little clit and tonguing at it desperately, humming with his kisses so that you can feel how much he appreciates your compliance: even if it’s robbed. “Pretty princess cunt,” He rasps to himself, dipping his tongue all the way down to your hole so that he can absentmindedly mouth at it, slipping inside with such ease as more slick gushes on his lips, making his fist tighten unfairly on his erection. He’s downright desperate. “Baby sister  cunt—”  He huffs roughly, tugging his cock only twice more before frustration overwhelms him and he’s reminded of your bratty attitude, placing the pocket pussy on the edge of his desk for you to drip slick onto his floor while his hands busy themselves with removing his pants and underwear as quickly as possible, only managing to get them over his knees before he settles back into his chair again, pocket pussy carelessly gripped and hovering dangerously close over his now exposed pulsing cock. He’s absolutely  trembling,  shaking with excitement while the faux cunt dribbles slick onto his already wet with precum cock, coating it in all your baby sister cream like a  good girl  for once. While he could eat you out  literally   all day  if he wanted to, face stuffed between your thighs for him to huff and kiss at mindlessly, insisting on continuing when you inevitably dig your nails into his hair and try to  yank  him off; his cock cries for attention. Twitches as fat globs of precum roll down to his balls, veins popping with impulsive need. He briefly wonders if Sam has ever gotten you this wet before, to the point of gushing over his cock before even entering.  Does big brothers tongue feel that good, baby?
Small  haah’s  are all he can let out as he squeezes the rubber toy in his fist, his other hand clenching tightly around the base of his perverted cock to angle it towards your sopping hole, staring at how your slick that leaks down to his tip shimmers in the seedy lighting of his room, where it connects to his own fat beads of precum that spill for you.  So close , he pants to himself.  Wanna fuck you so bad , he almost whines,  for so long . Stuck between ramming big brothers cock into your tiny little hole already, or to savour the moment for how monumental it feels. Sure, it’s not the real deal, but it’s  close enough ; even more depraved if he really thinks about it. Fucking you in secret, leaving you a mess all alone in your room; able to feel his girth but left unknowing as to why: he can’t fucking wait to bully you back some, make you feel how fat his cock is as punishment for tormenting him all this time.
And that’s all it takes, the promise of revenge. The torturous drip of your cunt onto his cock convincing him to enter,  inviting him , even, his fist lifting only to smear the combination of his pre and your slick over his hot and heavy length (as if it needed extra coating). He wets his lips in focus, lowering the pocket pussy closer to his red hot tip before some more pre spills for you, and as if that wasn't enough, he leans over himself to spit on his cock for extra lubrication. Don’t say he’s never kind to you, all right? “S’all your fault.” He chokes out, lowering the toy until the faux lips come into contact with his tip, automatically causing his hips to buck up into the soft feeling in search of  more ; but he forces himself to resist.  Wait , he tells himself, nonchalantly stroking the pocket pussy lips up and down his cock instead of entering, staining himself completely with your slick. Feels  so good, fuck , even just rubbing one out on you like this, pushing the fat of his cock between the fake lips to  really  hump at, y’know? Even lets his hip thrust upwards, causing him to fuck himself off his chair a little with how eager he’s pretending to hump his little sister, to properly punish you—or so he tells himself, but deep down he understands it’s more like he just wants to wet his cock, remind you of who you really belong to—because it’s what you fucking  deserve .
You deserve to feel the entirety of his greedy cock slipping and sliding between your folds, you deserve to feel the guilt and shame he’s desperately humping upon you for getting so  wet  due to big brothers cock. He’s entitled to this, he thinks. Putting up with you all these years, he takes his frustrations out by repeatedly knocking the tip of his cock against the faux clit of the pocket pussy to hopefully have you sobbing in your sheets, squirming under the phantom feeling of his cock bullying your upsettingly perfect little cunt. By the thick squelch that soon fills his room with every pass of his girth up and down the toy, he knows you must be enjoying his disgusting treatment.  Gross , he smiles to himself.
Busy humping himself silly against your fake cunt, he doesn’t fully register how close he is to slipping inside until it eventually happens. One minute he’s blissfully content rubbing one out against your slit, and the next he’s folding in on himself in a full body silent gasp, cock head fully engulfed in your tight little hole and knocking the wind out of him. Karma, he supposes, and then immediately forgets about as he feels your cunt squeeze around his intrusion for the first time ever; and you manage to effectively shut him up, no talking back or standing up to your teasing for once. Until you do it again, even if involuntary. “ Shit— fuck .” He groans, a rough sound crawled up from the pit of his tummy, drawn out from how nice and wet the toy in his hands is, thanks to  you . His weight shifts in his old computer chair, squeaking like it always does when he jerks off to the screen, only now it’s due to the immense strain he has to endure  not  to immediately bury himself balls deep in your cunt. You squeeze around him again as if asking for it and it hits him all at once, forced to realise with such sudden and alarming clarity that he was very much fucked.  Ruined , truthfully. The sinful suck of your linked cunt promising to spoil every other hole he potentially fucks in future, leaking little sister cream all over his twitching cock to entice him deeper, to fall further into your messy cunt depravity.
And really, it’s not bullying if you like it. He’s not being mean by rolling his hips into you  slowly , forcing you to savour every thick inch he’s got to offer as he enters you, tiny little humps upwards rather than forcing the toy down his cock to simulate sex better. You like it, don’t you? Dribbling all over his cock, bet you’re writhing in your sheets right now for him; because you must be just as slutty as him to be  enjoying  this. And it’s embarrassing just how much he likes it, how he already knows he’ll never be able to leave the pocket pussy alone, biting his lip raw to try and stifle his moans, squeezing one eye shut as if he was pained to be feeling so good, and he feels forced to swallow a bark creeping to his tongue at how  annoyed  he is. It’s  unfair  that you feel so good wrapped around him like this, half his cock buried in the toy, coating his length in even more slick to make the glide inside easier. And he thinks to himself that if you didn’t want it, you wouldn’t be this fucking slippery, his head thrown back at the soft squelch his cock fucks out of you. “ That’s it , fuck— what a good sister…” He ends up praising you despite his frustrations, unable to hide his genuine feelings for you in the secrecy of his own room, squeezing the pocket pussy even tighter around his greedy cock as he pushes up, up, and up until finally the faux lips rest against his pelvis and he can finally breathe again.
More than anything he wants to fist your hair and mess up your pretty styling, force his lips onto your own so that you can  taste  just how much he wants you; how downright desperate he is to claim you as his own. You’re his little sister, so you belong to him, right? Should be creaming on  his  cock and not anyone elses, cunt twitching around his fat girth as he grinds his hips into the toy, little circles to tease and taunt, bully you back into place for your petulant attitude he’s had to deal with his whole life.  Payback,  he muses, panting at the way your fake cunt accepts him so  easily , willingly wrapping around him so snugly; like you were made to take his cock. Just barely inside and you’ve already got him pulsing, balls taut at the way he so easily falls into you, how he’s sure he could cum right now just by circling his cock inside of you, stirring your insides up to prepare you for what inevitably comes next. Annoying, because he went into this perverted prank hoping to just upset you, to make you sob and whine on his cock like a  good girl  for once, and yet here he is struggling to regulate his breathing, fighting with himself to keep his hips from humping.
But  fuuuuck  you feel so good, nice and tight and  eager , constantly twitching and squirming on his cock to coax more precum out to stain your insides with, sucking his tip in so well as if asking for more, begging big brother to fuck you. And he’s watched enough hentai to know that he’s not immune to the little sister allure, despite his intentions to simply fuck with you; he has to show you that he’s the one in charge here, right? Regardless of his flimsy excuse, he does so instinctively, a flash of regret buried deep in his mind that’s easily clouded over by the sudden swallow of your cunt as he withdraw his hips, leaving only his tip inside to tease you with. More slick gushes out of the toy, trickling down to his balls and onto his chair, a tut escaping him despite being alone. “You’re such a fucking tease, y’know that?” He slurs, words caught in his throat and forced out of him as he drops the toy on his cock, shivering into the dirty action before repeating it again. And again. And again, until his fist wraps neatly around the toy enough to control the speed and he starts jerking off with your cunt.
Greedy gulps of air is all that’s heard in his room, besides the odd squeak and dribble of saliva, a few drops pooling on his tummy as he revels in the act of taking his perfect princess little sister in private. At least he tries to keep quiet, but it’s hard to keep his voice down when your walls squeeze him tighter, prompting him to suckle on his hoodie sleeve and pretend it was your nipple instead, lacing his tongue over the rough fabric as a means to distract himself from falling in love with your cunt. Is this how Sam feels when inside of you? Do you get this slippery for your boyfriend too, or is it because deep down you know  big brother  is fucking you properly.
God  he feels dizzy, so turned on at the thought of not only defiling you, but of doing it in a way where you’re left  uninformed . He wishes he could see your confused tear stained face, wants to watch you shake and cry for help while he bullies his cock into you, leaking all over the toy with every fuck of his hips upwards, matching the downward tug of his hands. And it’s even more fucked up that he’s treating you like the toy you are right now, literally jerking himself off as his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek, furrowing his brows to gain greater focus, leaning back against his chair so that he can hump into the faux hole at abetter angle. “So good—” He babbles to himself, fluttering his lashes at the way the toy slams back down on his balls, the corners of his mouth wet with drool from the sound of your cunt making room for his corrupt cock. “Knew you’d feel s—so good—” The immorality of his actions only turns him on more, his legs coming out to straighten while his back arches against his chair, fucking into the toy with needy desperation, a tut on his tongue at how perfect you are for him. He hates how good it feels, wants to fuck his frustrations out on you, slamming the toy down as much as he fucks into it so you can really feel just how much you truly upset him. If it feels this good with a toy, he can’t imagine how ruined he’s gonna be when it comes to the real thing—because of course he’s gonna fuck you for real, are you kidding?  God , you feel too fucking good it’s  unfair , should be illegal—letting him masturbate inside of you like this; his infatuation for you deepens, and the closer he gets the less liable he is to hold on to his grievances.
“Stupid girl —” He mumbles, a line of drool spilling from his lips too. In the privacy of his basement room, he allows himself a moment to indulge. “If—  fuck, oh my God — if only you— If—” He tries. God, he tries to get his words out, clamping both hands around the slippery wet toy and leaning forward to rest his head on his desk, standing up off his chair—too hopeless to remain seated—so that he can drag the toy on and off his cock with more ease.  Faster , too, his hips try to keep up with his quick fists but they’re no match, he’s spent way too many lonely night pumping his cock raw to give his hips a chance. Slick drips from the pocket pussy, his feet planted firmly on the ground to give him better grip to fuck you with, and the floorboards squeak with the weight of his thrusts. But he doesn’t slow down,  can’t , really. Unable to give even himself a breather from the disgusting situation, frantically fucking the toy in his fists like his life depended on it, his previous plans of getting back at you forgotten about in favour of simply  getting off , uncaring for how you must be so scared right now because you’re making him feel  so good : and that’s all that matters. He's so selfish, focusing only on his own pleasure as he splits you in two in the palm of his hands, baby must be stretching so well to fit him all in.
“If only you were— were this good all the time.” He finishes his thought and half laughs, but it soon turns into a low moan when the toy clenches around him, shaking and shivering down his mean big brother cock for him to enjoy. “It’s like y’were made for this—” He continues to babble, huffing against his desk while his thighs shake with you, his tummy tight with lust when he imagines that you might already be close from his harassment, like you were in the room with him. And he  almost  wants to let you cum, only because he’s too selfish to pass up the opportunity of feeling you convulse on his cock. But he’s so close too, and he smiles with an offer you’ve got no way of reciprocating. “Wanna see who cums first?”
You have   been  such a good girl  for him tonight, haven’t you? Allowed him to inflict such lewd acts on you, and not only that, but you’ve  accepted  his brutish abuse so nicely. Never mind the fact that you quite literally couldn’t fight back, he’s far too pussy drunk and buried too deep in the faux cunt to rationalise with himself, mind empty beyond the need to breed his favourite new toy the way she deserves, snapping his hips into your hole with sloppy precision; he can’t seem to get the right angle, nor can he keep a consistent speed, rendered dumb thanks to the tight squeeze your cunt offers him. “Does it feel good?” He sighs, riling himself up as an orgasm creeps up on him, humouring his fantasies while he’s ball deep inside of you because: why not at this point? “Does big brothers cock feel  sooo good ?” He continues, adopting a babying tone as if you were actually under him right now, nails digging into the split wood of his desk as if it were your hair, or your shoulder, doesn’t matter; he just wants to keep you in place. “Gonna cum for big brother? Make him feel so good too?” He pants, an unavoidable coil tightening in his core as heat flushes to his cheeks, voice barely above a whisper while he fucks himself off. He can only imagine what he must look like right now, bent over his desk and huffing, head pressed against his forearm to hide his face into his desk, pants barely half on or half off, dangling by his knees while his hips swing in the air. And then, he tries to imagine you. How  cute  you’d look right now as he fucks into you with such speed he has to step back a few times to re-position, balls slapping against the magic toy with a resounding  plap!,  sticky sweet slick keeping him connected to you with a soft squish. He only stands up more so that he can continue his delusions, looking down to where his cock meets you cunt and how a ring of cream rests at the base, a sheen coating the rest of his length for him to gawk at.
A mistake, truthfully, but he isn’t complaining too much when he instantly shoots a load inside of the toy, shoving his cock as deep as possible into the tiny hole stretched to fit him so he can properly sow his seed, stake his claim all over your insides with thick white ropes. Mark you as:  Big Brother’s . It doesn’t so much as catch him by surprise as it becomes immediately expected, face all scrunched up in rotten pleasure for the accidental creampie, a strangled  sis  caught in his throat before moans tumble, followed by breathy laughter and sighs. He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips forward, riding his orgasm out by riding you, inadvertently fucking his cum deeper into the toy and  keeping it there , lazily tugging the toy up and down his still hard cock until he’s sure he’s made you’ve milked every last drop he has for you.
He only realises that he’s neglected to let you cum as he’s pulling out,  slowly  removing his cock from the toy with a wince, watching with genuine interest as drops of seed dribble out and over his spent cock. Serves you right for dating Sam when big brother has been right here this whole time, waiting to have you submit to his cock. He laughs, a sinister smirk with knowing that you must be  so frustrated  to be left high and dry like that, to no longer even appreciate the feeling of fullness as he twists the toy in his hand so that he can assess the damage, gently pulling the folds apart so he can watch more of his cum seep out. A deep urge to eat you clean rises to his tongue when he inspects your hole, but he bites it back, tells himself that there’s more satisfaction in leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions than to reinforce your bad behaviour behind a tongue flat against your slit. That, and he’d hate to reward you and have you know that you’ve given him the best orgasm of his life; and you didn’t even have to do anything but lay there! He’s treated you well enough, he decides, dropping the toy on his desk for him to gape at lovingly.
He sits there for a few seconds, awaiting the wash of clarity over his system to come, but when it doesn’t he simply smiles. “Fuck.” He finally sighs, and it’s a confession of sorts. Of what he doesn’t have much time to figure out, seeing as his phone soon vibrates next to him, a flash of a notification on the screen. It takes him a moment to get to it, because he’s too busy admiring how messy he’s made your pretty princess parts, smearing big brothers cum all over the slit with his thumb just because he can. But he gives in to curiosity once he’s satisfied with painting, unlocking his phone only to be greeted by your name, or the one he’s so fondly given you.
Brat: Can you come help me sebby?
A loud bark of laughter rises in his chest, throwing his head back in the gratification you’ve so kindly offered him. You can handle a little more teasing, right? It’s only fair, seeing as this is the first time he’s fully bitten back at you.
Sebastian: No, I’m busy.
And it’s not even a lie, his thumb gliding easily over the faux clit to ruin you some more, a punishment for distracting him from his afterglow. He almost gets to forget about you before you draw his attention again, another vibration from his phone that reads:
Brat: It’s serious, please!
Sebastian: … Where are you?
It’s a stupid question, he knows, but he wants to make you  really  suffer. It’s not often you need his help, and he’d be a liar if he said it doesn’t feel nice to be relied on by you like this. All you need is him, right? Need big brother to come make you feel all better, yeah? Or maybe that’s just his cock talking, jerking at the thought of you relying on him for  more , needing him to help finish you off because you’re too fucked dumb on big brothers cock to function. He’s got half a mind to walk up to your room and fuck you for real, help you finish that way. Would you try to kick him off with his cock womb deep, tears streaming down your pretty face, or would you sob from pleasure, begging big brother for more, because you’re  so close  and you’d take  anything  at this point?
Brat: My room, please hurry.!
Definitely more his cock, twitching back to life with the promise of being allowed entry into your sacred room,  your hiding place . He locks his phone and throws it to his bed, tucking his stained cock back into his pants and pulling his skinny jeans back up, neglecting to zip in his rush to be at your side;  thankful . You should be thankful he’s even giving you the time of day, seeing as you’ve already exhausted your usefulness to him for tonight. Cock spent and hole used, what more could you give him? Regardless, he’s more curious than he is spiteful right now. Wants to see what you look like after taking his cock, and if it matches his thoughts. Without much more  convincing, he tucks the toy into his hoodie pocket, confident that you’ll somehow find the evidence of his crime if he doesn’t stash it close to him at all times. He can easily clean his hoodie of cum later, but he can’t face the ramifications of mistreating you in such a deplorable fashion; not now, not ever. His little secret, yeah?
But his chest tightens as he runs up the stairs, breath caught in his throat as he stands outside your room and knocks. Anxious? He can’t figure out what for. This is everything he’s been wanting and more, and when you usher him inside with a panicked voice, he thinks he might have taken things a bit too far; protectiveness surging past his lungs and heart, rising up in a breathy “What’s wrong?” as if he doesn’t know damn well why you sound so confused right now. But that big brother attitude doesn’t last for long, ignored the minute his eyes find yours, taking in the sight of you clutching at your sheets as if you were in pain, legs crossed and covered, like you’re  hiding  from him. And  oh  it feels good to be preying on you like this, he has to fight the urge to smile at the pathetic pose you take for him, all pliant and submissive and seeking  his  help. He doesn't miss the way your nipples poke through your little shirt, or how you sweat from head to toe; working out? And his imagination didn’t do you any justice, seeing you cower in front of him like this as your legs rub together is a wet dream come true. He’s definitely hard again, keeping both hands in his pocket and pushing it down to hopefully hide his embarrassment from your eyes as you shiver before him. He watches as you automatically reach out for him, your mouth opening as if you were going to say something and—
“I—  Ah! ”
Instinctively, his fingers dip into the toy the moment you try to communicate with him, surprising even him when you gasp at the slender prodding against your insides. If you say anything resembling coherent he doesn't hear it, zoning out as he zeros in on your tits, mouth watering at the sight alone. He wants to suck on them, curling his finger inside of you in response to your unknown teasing, a declaration of want to own every part of you. At least now he knows that the toy is  actually magic , unquestionably linked to your sopping wet cunt with how you’re currently reacting to his touch. The way you shake as his finger pad circles your entrance, gliding with the amount of cum leaking from it—and by extension  dirtying your bed sheets at this very moment —and how you bite your lip so cutely when he lets its dip further into the hole again, staring directly at you with concentration to commit every detail of you to memory for tonight,  almost  moaning at the sight of you squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his dumb gaze, how pretty you look with your brows all furrowed and hand hiding your cute little sounds.
All you’ve done is convinced him that he needs to fuck you for real, and  soon . Twisting the single finger buried knuckle deep in the toy around, exploring your pretty little cunt with precision. Like he already knows all your sweet spots given the reactions you’re offering him; or maybe that’s because he’s already fucked you close to completion already, fingering you to the cusp again as he stands awkwardly hiding his hard on in your room.
“What— Uh, what’s wrong?” He clears his throat, but still his voice is dry and  needy , a hidden deep want for you lacing the words as you squirm and sob on your sheets. For  him . It’s a bit weird that he’s waited so long to ask you, he thinks, but you also seem to be a bit too distracted to notice as he introduces a second finger to the puffy toy in his pocket, pushing in instantly and easily from the fluids leaking from your hole, leaving you unable to talk once more. “Are you okay?” He gasps,  knows  that you aren’t, fuck,  look at you ; but he has to ask to keep up his facade. Wants to pretend he doesn’t know why you’re struggle to do anything other than babble before him as a means to bully you some more.  It’s your fault , maybe if you weren’t so fucking  cute  when crying then he’d move on, but your tear stained cheeks coax him to continue, scissoring his long fingers inside your hole with eagerness, like doing so would make you feel better.
And it would, and he  wants to see it , but the second he begins to slowly pump his scissoring in and out of your greedy cunt you urge him to leave. A high pitched whine of  go away!  While you bury your face in the sheets, folding in on yourself—fucking  pretty , by the way—as he assumes you’re right on the edge is enough for him. Your hidden face providing him the space to smile down at you, but it’s loving. Adoration, even. Can’t quite believe just how pretty you are when you’re rendered useless on his hand like this, and he promises himself as he turns to leave to have you act so sweetly with him the next time you try to annoy him. This is the little sister he’s always wanted, and if you play nice for him, he’ll even call you as such to your face.
“Okay.” He simply leaves you with, all breathy and empty as he exits your room, slamming the door shut only because he’s in a rush to rest his back against the same door to pull his cock out, still fingering your pretty pussy in his pocket and listening out for your cute moans to soon fill your room. Another round wouldn’t hurt, especially when you start to whimper his name so  prettily  like that, right?
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solbaby7 · 2 months ago
Note
(For the blurb bar thing)
*sits on one of the bar stools and leans against the counter)
Can I have a frozen vodka cran with a sugar rim, and add lime please
Oh and here *slides a ten dollar bill across the counter*
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oops, i may have added too much lime 😭🫣but it’ll still taste good i swear😬, bottoms up 🍹 alsooo idk what cave you cassian girlies crawled out of but when i tell u my inbox is flooding with cass requests. here yall, you get a beefcake, you get a beefcake, everyone gets a batboy beefcake
[ “why do you even care?” “because i do” + fluff / angst + cassian ]
-> BLURB BAR <-
It is what it is.
That’s the only phrase that keeps you going after countless hours spent hunched over bloodied bodies with their entrails held in their hands. Deep slashes from sharpened blades that leave skin flayed and muscle severed, tendons plucked out of place until sensitive nerves are screaming in agony. “I know it hurts,” You croon softly, care oozing out of every pore as healing magic pulses from you. “I’m sorry, it’ll be over soon.”
Dab with disinfectant there. Pressure to staunch the bleeding. Fire to cauterize. Magic to smooth it all over.
It’s an exhausting process, one that leaves you aching and has your head swimming as you shut the curtain for patient privacy but this isn’t the place to complain about that—not around all of these tortured souls as they endured a pain you couldn’t dare comprehend. “You should get some rest.”
You can’t fight the roll of your eyes at the sound of his voice. “And you should go back to your friends.”
Cassian keeps up with your stride with ease and while you refuse to acknowledge it, you walk a little slower when you catch sight of the neatly wrapped dressings around his thigh. “My friends are fine. You made sure of that. Azriel wouldn’t have made it if you weren’t there.”
“Yeah, well that’s my job.” You don’t bother hiding the irritation in your tone. It’s not normal for exes to be this present. But, you’re certain you catch the scent of him by your window every morning; sandalwood and eucalyptus, crackling embers and oak. A perfectly annoying blend of masculinity and comfort. It haunts you—follows you around the shops when collecting groceries for the week and lingers in your blind spots when treking home after a little too much to drink. Quiet but constant; an unspoken rule that Cassian was definitely breaking. “Something I really need to get back to so if you’re finished—“
“Don’t think I’ll ever be finished with you, peach.”
You hate that charming cadence. Despise the handsome grin that’s flashed your way because he knows how much you (love) loved it. “What do you want Cass?”
“Want you to take better care of yourself.” That’s a lie. At least partially because Cassian knows that what he really wants is to be the one to care for you. He knows he’d do it well—dedicate himself to the roll because there had been a time where it had been his only desire. But Rhys had come back after fifty years and Cass had a High Lady to protect now; had duties to uphold—responsibilities that wouldn’t allow the freedom necessary to take you on picnics in flower fields or to remember anniversaries. “You haven’t been eating enough and you’re always working. You barely even sleep.” He says it oh so gently but you can hear the underlying worry there. Can see it in the way his wings rustle and gaze scans the length of you, most likely noticing the way you resemble a deadman walking.
“You stalking me or something?”
“You promised.” His stance straightens out a little, syllables carrying a little more conviction as he tries to get his point across. “After everything between us, you at least promised that you’d be safe and take care of yourself.”
“You left me, Cassian.” His throat rolls under the shame, chest constricting as he’s forced to witness the way your eyes go glassy. “You walked out on me so what I look like without you shouldn’t matter.” Emotion holds thick in your voice and it takes true effort not to let tears fall down your cheeks. This was too confusing, the back and forth too exhausting, the hope too draining. “Why do you even care?”
A million possible answers claw to the forefront of Cassian’s mouth. Ones that scream, ‘because I love you! Because you’re everything to me.’ So badly he yearns to just let it out and confess how your safety was everything he thinks of when suiting up for battle and drenching himself in the blood of others with no regard for his own life. “Because, I do.” He says instead and he knows it’s not enough—can see the way the light in your eyes die out when you’re left hanging yet again. “Please peach, just get some rest. For me.”
He almost wishes you’d resist; to give him another reason to seek you out and darken your doorstep even if meant just a glimpse at you.
Your shoulders fall too low to be gearing up for a fight and the furrow of your brow wobbles with the effort it takes to keep you from crumbling all together.
Gauze patches at your battered heart. Dab with disinfectant there. Pressure to staunch the bleeding. Fire to cauterize. Magic to smooth it all over. “Fine.” You nod stiffly, the picture of professionalism. “And thank you, General, for your service.”
It is what it is.
120 notes · View notes
whitedarkmoonflower · 1 year ago
Text
Sickness
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Anonymous asked:
Season four Sihtric, when the group are passing through the fields during that plague and the river. Reader is the lover of Sihtric and is sick. Her sickness gets worse after the run in with Eadith’s brother Eardwulf. Very angsty with the rise on emotions everyone is dealing with. Eadith tries keeping the reader alive with her medical abilities but it’s to no avail. The reader and Sihtric have what they think are their last moments before she is kidnapped along with Stiorra, Aelswith and Aethelstan. She gets better and reunites after the siege.
Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)
Authors note: This is the request I took over from @sihtricfedaraaahvicius It is the first part, the next will follow hopefully soon.
Warnings: a bit of fluff and angst, quite a load of angst
Word Count: 4,6K
Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie
If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.
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Uhtred's heart pounded in his chest as he spotted the soldiers on horseback emerging from the road bend. There was no time to waste.
"Run!" he shouted urgently, his voice leaving no room for questions. Finan and Osferth quickly grabbed Aethelstan by the hands, while Uhtred swiftly turned and scooped up Aelfwynn in his strong arms. Without further ado, they darted off the road into the tall grass of the meadow to their right. Eadith, Stiorra, and the young Uhtred, followed suit. You hesitated for a moment, bending over with your hands on your knees, desperately trying to catch your breath as your gaze locked with Sihtric.
"Come on, there's no time to waste," the urgency in his eyes turned into worry. "Are you okay? Can you run?" he asked, taking a step in your direction and extending his hand.
You had been relieved to escape the woods and feel a solid road beneath your feet again after the exhausting days you had endured. A nagging sense of discomfort had slowly settled into your body, initially dismissed as the expected toll of running through fields and woods on foot, and sleeping under the open sky with moss and fallen leaves as your only mattress and blanket. It had started as a subtle ache in your joints, as if they were encased in lead, protesting every movement and sending sharp, shooting pains through your body. Gradually, this discomfort had escalated into a more pronounced pain, and this morning, you had woken up tired and weak, your skin hot to the touch. 
But the last thing you wanted was to reveal your weakness and become a burden or an obstacle to others. You held responsibility for the children – Aelfwynn, Aethelstan, and Stiorra, though she pretended to be grown up already. You had been caring for them in Saltwick for over a year, and your bond had deepened in ways you never could have anticipated. You loved and cared for them as you were sure you would for your own children, should you ever have any.
Aelfwynn, with her bright eyes and insatiable curiosity, had a remarkable talent for bringing warmth even to the coldest of days. She was a quick learner, possessed a genuine thirst for knowledge about the world, and you found yourself marvelling at her growth. Her laughter was as sweet as a melody, and her hugs felt like a soothing balm for the soul.
Aethelstan, the thoughtful and introspective one, had a heart overflowing with kindness. His gentle spirit served as a constant reminder of the goodness that still existed in the world, even during the most challenging times. His trust in you warmed your heart.
Stiorra, the spirited and adventurous one, injected an element of excitement and unpredictability into your lives. Her infectious laughter and boundless energy were both exhilarating and, at times, exhausting. You embarked on countless adventures together, and with every scrape and bruise she earned, you felt it tug at your heart. 
You loved these children unconditionally, celebrating their victories and providing comfort during their moments of sadness. You worried about their futures and dreamt of the wonderful lives that lay ahead for them. Your heart had expanded to encompass these precious souls, and you couldn't fathom a day without their laughter, quirks, and love. So when Uhtred and his men insisted on fleeing, you didn't hesitate for a moment—you were determined to accompany them.
And then, of course, there was Sihtric, the handsome Dane with the most unique haircut you had ever seen in your entire life. You couldn't deny the initial unease you felt around him when he was assigned by Lord Uhtred to guard the children alongside Finan and Osferth in Saltwick.
His quiet demeanour and the way he observed you had initially sparked suspicion. Sihtric's deep and enigmatic eyes seemed to track your every move, their intensity sending a prickling sensation across your skin. It was as if he could see through you, discerning something you couldn't quite grasp, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.
However, as the days passed, Sihtric's presence transformed from a cause for suspicion to a source of reassurance. His reserved nature concealed a kind heart and a readiness to lend a hand whenever necessary. He frequently offered assistance with the children, whether it was helping Aethelstan carve his wooden horse or taking Stiorra on playful adventures in the woods. Aelfwynn, in particular, had taken a liking to him, finding solace in his company. 
Your initial unease gradually faded as you witnessed Sihtric's interactions with the children, noting his patience and caring nature. Imperceptibly, you grew quite fond of the gentle and kind-hearted man hidden behind the rugged exterior of a fierce warrior.
You vividly recalled that evening, as if it had occurred just yesterday. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, orange glow over the tranquil garden where you had found your moment of peace and tranquillity. The children were fast asleep, their dreams filled with the day's adventures.
As you sat there, lost in your thoughts, you received a pleasant surprise when Sihtric quietly joined you, taking a seat beside you. His presence was a welcome one, and the two of you relished the serene beauty of the fading daylight.
For a while, you enjoyed each other's company in silence, with only the gentle rustle of leaves in the evening breeze breaking the stillness. Sihtric's gaze lingered on you, and you could feel his eyes on your face. It was an intense scrutiny that made your heart flutter, and you couldn't resist stealing a glance in his direction.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sihtric broke the silence, his voice low and sincere. "You are truly remarkable," he began, his words carefully chosen. "The way you care for Aelfwynn, Aethelstan, and Stiorra, it's... inspiring."
Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. "I appreciate your kind words, Sihtric," you replied, genuinely touched by his compliment. "But I'm just doing what comes naturally. They've become like family to me."
Sihtric nodded, his gaze still fixed on you. "It's more than that. You have a gift, a way of making them feel safe and loved. It's a rare quality, and I admire it greatly."
A sense of warmth enveloped you as you listened to his words. There was a vulnerability in his expression, as though he had revealed something deeply personal, and you appreciated his openness. As you gazed into Sihtric's eyes, you saw a sincerity and warmth that had been hidden beneath the surface.
The moonlight bathed the garden in a soft, silvery glow, casting enchanting shadows on the two of you as you sat side by side. Touched by Sihtric's words and captivated by the way the moonlight highlighted his handsome features, you found it difficult to tear your gaze away from him. He appeared so strong and reassuring in the tranquil evening light, and you couldn't help but feel a flush of desire as you imagined his strong arms around your waist and his full, sensual lips against yours.
As the thought danced through your mind, your heart quickened, and you couldn't help but let your hand fall gently onto Sihtric's, a subtle invitation that carried a world of unspoken desire. Your pulse raced as you leaned in closer and inhaled his breath, your faces just centimetres apart. You were so close that you could sense his muscles tensing and his breathing becoming more strained. The moment seemed so perfect and you closed your eyes, anticipation hanging in the air.
Sihtric shuddered, his body tensing under your touch. With a sudden, trembling voice, he stammered, "I... I should excuse myself. It's getting late, and I should check on the horses."
His sudden withdrawal and the tremor in his voice took you by surprise. Confusion and disappointment washed over you as Sihtric hastily retrieved his hand and stood up, his gaze avoiding yours.
In the space of a heartbeat, the enchanting moment was shattered, and you were left sitting alone in the garden, the echoes of what might have been hanging in the air. Sihtric's abrupt departure left you feeling both bewildered and disheartened, wondering what had caused him to recoil so suddenly.
The next day, an awkward tension between you and Sihtric hung in the air like an unspoken barrier. His once-warm presence had become elusive, and you couldn't shake the growing sense of embarrassment stemming from the events of the previous evening. You certainly didn't want to ruin the budding friendship that had developed between you, especially considering the deeper feelings you had begun to hold for Sihtric.
As the next day proved to be no better, you found no recourse but to approach Finan.
"Finan, may I speak with you about Sihtric?" you began hesitantly, unsure how to start the conversation.
"Lady, you have a question? Just go ahead and ask," Finan replied tersely.
"I'm not sure how to put it," you admitted. "It seems I've upset Sihtric, but I'm at a loss as to what I've done wrong. We had a pleasant conversation about the children last night, and then he abruptly left. Now he's avoiding me."
Finan set down his sword and turned to you, his eyes scrutinising your face with a stern expression that made you slightly uncomfortable. Your cheeks flushed, and you averted your gaze, beginning to regret initiating the conversation.
"So, he finally mustered the courage to speak to you," Finan remarked with a chuckle. "I don't believe you've done anything wrong. Lady, that lad has a heart of gold, and he's been smitten with you since the moment he laid eyes on you. But, let me put it this way - he struggles with recognizing his own worth. It's not for me to share his story. Perhaps he will, when the time is right." Finan continued to fix you with a penetrating gaze, and you began to feel increasingly uneasy. Thinking the conversation was over, you turned to leave.
"Lady," Finan called out quietly, the mischievous glint in his eyes replaced by a stern and earnest expression. "Please, don't give him false hope if you're uncertain or not serious. It would shatter him, and believe me, he doesn't deserve to have his heart broken again." 
You lifted your eyes to meet Finan's, and the genuine care and concern emanating from him filled you with profound appreciation for the bond that united these men.
"I promise I won't," you whispered.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the estate, you decided it was time to address the issue directly and made your way to the stables, a place where you knew Sihtric often sought solace and solitude. There, you found him leaning against a wooden post, his gaze fixed on a distant point, his expression holding a mixture of contemplation and melancholy. Seeing him in this state tugged at your heart, as you approached cautiously.
"Sihtric," you began softly, "is there something I did or said that disappointed you? I can't help but feel like something has changed between us."
He turned to look at you, his eyes full of surprise. For a brief moment, silence hung in the air, as if he was struggling to find the right words. You took a deep breath, moved a step closer, and gently placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Sihtric," you said softly, your voice brimming with sincerity, "I genuinely like you, and I don't want any awkwardness between us."
The instant your hand made contact with his shoulder, Sihtric visibly flinched. His eyes widened in surprise, and it appeared as though he had momentarily forgotten how to breathe. His chest rose and fell in a rhythm that mirrored the quickening of his heart.
A medley of emotions flitted across Sihtric's face, but most of all a complete disbelief.
“You like me? No, lady, that can't be,” his response caught you off guard. You blinked in astonishment and then, almost instinctively, asked, "Why wouldn't I like you, Sihtric?"
He let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "I'm a Dane," he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "A bastard. A man without a future, without a place in this world. Certainly not someone deserving of being liked, especially not by a lovely Saxon lady like yourself. I apologise if I overstepped the previous night," he continued sincerely. 
"It won't happen again," Sihtric added, turning as if he intended to leave.
Surprised by his words, you stood there, gazing at this grown man who appeared simultaneously strong and fearless yet vulnerable and lost, like a small child. At the last moment, you extended your hand, grasping his arm.
"Sihtric, please, wait. Why are you saying this? I don't care that you're a Dane. And, by the way, I'm not a lady. You are so much more than your heritage. You're gentle and caring with the children, always respectful and ready to help. You have a kind heart, and that's what truly matters. I like you. I like you a lot, and not just as a friend…" Your voice lowered, and you felt your cheeks flush crimson as you whispered the last words.
If anyone was overstepping, it was unquestionably you. However, in this moment, all you wished for was for this incredibly sweet man to see himself through your eyes—worthy of admiration and affection, regardless of his origins or the challenges he faced.
The weight of the conversation lingered in the air as Sihtric processed your words. There was a quiet pause between the two of you, with the gentle rustle of hay in the stables the only sound. Then, as if compelled by an unseen force, Sihtric's hand reached up to cup your chin, gently tilting your face upward until your eyes met his. In the dim light of the stable, his gaze held an intangible twinkle of delight as he tenderly caressed your face with his thumbs.
"You are so breathtakingly beautiful," he whispered. "And you're so kind and sweet…so loving and caring. You don't understand… there's nothing I can offer you in this life… you deserve something better."
You gazed into Sihtric's mismatched eyes, a tentative smile spreading across your lips as you took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze before pressing his palm against your cheek, nuzzling into it.
"Sihtric, please don't feel compelled to make a decision on my behalf," you said with a warm smile, and in a sudden rush of emotions you lifted yourself onto your tiptoes and gently pressed your lips against his.
A deep sigh escaped Sihtric as he felt your lips brushing against his own. He cradled your face in both of his palms, pulling you slightly back, his eyes wide open, scanning your features with a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment in them. Your heart quickened, threatening to burst from your chest. You feared you had made a fool of yourself, that he was about to reject you, and tears welled up in the corners of your eyes.
With a soft, lingering touch, Sihtric leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle and tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with sweetness and delicacy, infused with awe and adoration. You had never been kissed like this before. The gentle, hesitant touch of Sihtric’s tongue, the way he held you in his arms, the soft moans of delight escaping his lips, his trembling fingers cupping your cheeks – every small detail, every motion of his body spoke of hope and unending love, promising something more—a connection you had never before experienced but were willing to embrace. It swept away your breath and set your heart racing with an unseen intensity.
This was just the beginning of what felt like a fairytale for you. Later that night, as you shared your bed with Sihtric, revelling in his passionate yet gentle and affectionate touch, as he worshipped your body, you silently pondered whether to thank God or the Devil for bringing this handsome and kind-hearted man into your life. Even if loving him meant being condemned to eternal flames, you were ready and willing to embrace it.
—-----------------------------------
Panic flickered in Sihtric's worried gaze as he noticed your distress and rapid breathing.
However, the approaching sound of hoofbeats spurred you into action. With a determined effort, you summoned all your strength and began to run. You grasped Sihtric's hand for support, and together, you followed the rest of the group into the meadow.
The rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins fueled your determination, urging you to push harder. You sprinted up the hill and down to the riverside, maintaining your pace alongside Sihtric, whose firm grip on your hand served as a silent source of strength and encouragement.
The cool breeze against your face and the rhythmic thud of your footsteps helped you push through the weakness and nausea that threatened to overwhelm you. You knew you had to keep moving, to remain with the group and ensure everyone's safety.
Upon reaching the riverside, it became evident that crossing it was not an option. The riders pursuing you drew nearer and all eyes turned to Uhtred, awaiting a command, a solution, or even a miracle if need be. However, there was no easy answer he could provide. Despite the seemingly insurmountable odds against the armed horsemen approaching, Uhtred, Finan, Sihtric, and even Osferth instinctively formed a protective barrier before the children, Eadith, and you, ready to defend you all against any impending threat.
The riders closed in, and suddenly the physical and emotional strain of the sudden sprint and the overwhelming events of the past moments took their toll on you. Your strength reached its limit, and with a gasp, you collapsed to the ground, your legs no longer able to support you.
Your vision blurred as you lay there, the world spinning around you. The sound of Uhtred's voice, commanding his men to protect the children with their lives, grew distant and muffled.
The ground beneath you felt cool and unforgiving, and as darkness threatened to engulf your consciousness, you desperately clung to the unreasonable hope that Uhtred and his men would see the children through this.
Sihtric's eyes widened in panic, his heart aching as he watched you collapsing to the ground. Every muscle in his body tensed with an overwhelming desire to rush to your side, but before he could make his move, your gaze locked with his, and you vehemently shook your head. With the last remnants of your strength, you whispered urgently, "Children, you must protect the children."
The pain etched on Sihtric’s face as he continued to watch you, torn between his instinct to run to you and your final plea to safeguard the children, was palpable. He nodded in understanding, your words echoing in his mind, just as the first arrows from the approaching riders sliced through the air. 
You heard a sound of someone falling to their knees near you and closed your eyes as you felt two small gentle hands, you unmistakably recognised belonging to Stiorra, cradling your head and placing it in her lap. And then everything went black. 
—---------------------------------------------------
As you slowly stirred from unconsciousness, you found yourself lying in a bed, your body aching and feverish. Memories of the riverbank and the perilous encounter with the riders rushed back, leaving you wondering how you had ended up here.
Turning your gaze, you saw Sihtric sitting by the bedside, his eyes fixed on you with a mix of relief and concern. Weakly, you attempted a smile, wanting to reassure him despite your own discomfort.
Sihtric's expression softened as he noticed your effort. "You're awake," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine relief.
You nodded, your throat dry and raspy, making it difficult to speak, the pain in your body serving as a constant reminder of the ordeal you had endured.
"How are you feeling?" Sihtric inquired, his concern deepening.
With a faint, reassuring smile, you whispered, "I've been better."
Sihtric let out a relieved chuckle, the tension in the room slightly easing. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and caring.
"You gave me quite a scare," he admitted, his voice filled with gratitude. "But you're strong, and you'll recover."
You wanted to reply, but your head began to spin, and a thick fog enveloped your thoughts, pulling you back into oblivion.
“Hey, stay with me,” Sihtric's voice broke into a silent whisper, laced with anguish and concern, but you no longer heard him. He grasped your hand and lifted it to his lips, placing soft kisses all over it.
“You are strong. You have to keep fighting. You can’t leave me now. I just found you, the missing part of my heart. Don’t you dare to leave me,” he murmured, his voice choking. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness threatened to engulf him. He wanted to protect you, ready to fight an army if necessary to ensure your safety, willing to give his life for yours. And there he was sitting at your bed, unable to ease your suffering, to shield you from the illness that had taken hold of your body, slowly sapping your strength and vitality.
Sihtric remained seated, his unwavering gaze fixed on your face, his hand gently resting on your forehead, sensing the heat of your fever. From time to time, he leaned in to plant soft kisses on your hot forehead, his fingers caressing your hair, whispering his plea softly into your ear, repeating it over and over in the hope that somehow, in your unconscious state, you could still hear him. “Please, don’t give up. I need you. I need you to stay with me… please.”
As hours passed without any sign of your awakening, and your fever continued to rage, Sihtric mustered the courage to step away from your bedside and seek out Eadith and the others.
"Tell me how bad is it? And how is Aelfwynn?" The anguish etched across Sihtric's face, his eyes desperately searching Eadith's for a glimmer of hope, made her heart ache.
Eadith had witnessed it—the love-stricken look in Sihtric's eyes each time he cast a glance in your direction. Still struggling to fully believe that you reciprocate his love, he savoured every smile, every affectionate word and every gentle gesture you extended toward him. It was a love that bordered on adoration, a sweet madness that granted him purpose and strength.
Now, he was on the verge of losing you. You were slipping away. You were dying. Both of you, as Aelfwynn's condition was no better. Eadith recognized the subtle, almost imperceptible shift when the body ceased its resistance and surrendered. You both had crossed that threshold.
As much as she wished to offer some glimmer of hope or reassurance to Sihtric and the others that everything would be alright, it had long surpassed her ability to provide relief for you and Aelfwynn. It was now in the hands of God, and she envied Osferth, whom she knew was currently praying in the small chapel. His unwavering faith in God's benevolence gave him strength, whereas she had lost her own faith long ago.
Eadith slowly shook her head, averting her gaze. Words that had begun to form on her tongue froze, unable to escape her lips. To tell Sihtric the truth would mean killing him too; to cut the last, tenuous thread of hope that kept him going.
"I've been doing my best to care for them," she finally said softly. "Their fevers are high and show no sign of abating. Their strength continues to wane. They require rest and proper care."
At least it was not a complete lie, but it was far from the whole truth. It was as close as Eadith could bring herself to utter.
A faint glimmer of hope flickered within the depths of Sihtric's eyes. He clung to those last words like a drowning man clutching a small piece of driftwood, hoping it would carry him to shore, even if that shore seemed impossibly distant. They require rest and proper care - and they will manage it – those were the words he wanted to hear and thought hearing them, even if they never left Eadith’s lips. 
There was no way to tell him that it no longer mattered, that the battle was already lost. 
Eadith nervously chewed her lower lip, her hands aimlessly tugging at her dress. The room was filled with suffocating silence. Her gaze wandered to Uhtred, who paced around the room like a caged beast, his steps heavy and agitated. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white from tension. Several times, he raised his fists to his mouth, biting down on his index finger, his brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched tightly.
She knew he was angry; it radiated from his every pore. He was angry at Edward for his weakness, his premature and ill-conceived actions driven by the fear of losing power. While Edward's intentions were to reunite the realm, his actions were actually tearing it apart. The young king's feeble attempt to resolve his problems by burdening unprotected children with them angered Uhtred more than anything else.
But among that Uhtred was angry at himself. He was furious with himself for not foreseeing this, for failing to anticipate the chaos that had unfolded, and for lacking an immediate solution. He was desperate to shake off this unreasonable feeling of being responsible together with the overwhelming need to take action, to do something, even if he didn’t know what. But he couldn't. He was a man of action, a man of solutions and inability to provide for one drew him to the brink of madness.
While Uhtred continued to pace, his breath becoming shallow and uneven, Eadith's gaze shifted to Finan, who sat alone at the table. His posture slumped, his hands clenched and unclenched, and his gaze was distant and unfocused, as if he were trapped in a labyrinth with no way out. He was afraid. Eadith had come to know this fearless warrior well by now and her heart was full of awe and admiration toward him. Yes, he was fearless, fearless in the battle, ready to stand up against as many men as needed, yet he was afraid—afraid of losing his friends to the spreading sickness, and desperate to protect them, yet fearing he might fail.
—--------------------------------------------
"I don't want to leave her, Eadith. You don't understand, nobody does. I can't leave her. She's everything I have," Sihtric's voice quivered, his hands shifting from the hilt of his axe, as if seeking reassurance, to his dishevelled hair, where he pulled hard before returning to clench around the axe hilt again.
"You won't be leaving her, Sihtric. You'll be trying to save her. We need a safe passage to Winchester and a proper healer for her, for both of them. Uhtred's plan is the best and only option we have. You're not abandoning her, Sihtric," Eadith spoke with conviction, though she couldn't help but despise herself at this moment. Was it a lie she was telling Sihtric? Not entirely. The last days had been full with half-truths, and this was just one more, but why did it hurt so much? Will he see her alive again? Probably not. But staying here will not change that, while leaving might bring a big change for the whole kingdom. If there was one man to bring Aethelflaed and Edward back on the path of peace, then it was Uhtred and he needed Sihtric. 
Sihtric cast one final, longing glance at the bed. You looked too small in it, your eyes closed, your face pallid. He raised his hand and took one hesitant step toward you, as if wanting to stroke your head one more time before leaving. Turning abruptly and storming out of the room, Sihtric buried his teeth in his clenched fist with such force that blood started to trail down his arm. 
“I’m not leaving you,” he whispered to himself, “You need a safe passage to Winchester, and I’ll secure it for you, no matter the cost.”
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
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goldfades · 8 months ago
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had another jump then fall thought
after adam and cece start dating (and maybe move in together???) i could totally see paloma walking into their room at night holding her fave stuffie with tears in her poor little eyes saying she cant sleep (especially after the court thing) she would just be so scared that ceces gonna disappear or shes gonna get taken away from them again poor girl is so little with so much anxiety
oh my god YES. anxiety is very much a part of paloma’s life after the whole court hearing. she never wants to be away from adam ever again and even the mere thought gives the poor girl nightmares 🥹🥹
after the hearing, even adam gets anxious about the whole thing and the only person who’s able to calm him is sweet cece (despite her own fears of paloma’s bio mom taking her again)
─ warnings sosososo much anxiety, exhaustion but fluffy (post pining) moments with cece/adam. also this was written on my phone so there may be errors LOL
─ wc 635
the clock on the bedside table flashed 3:12 am and both cece and adam were fast asleep in their warm bed. cece had a 10 am lecture while adam had practice the next morning, they both wanted to catch up on their sleep.
the door creaked open, revealing a very pouty and tired looking paloma. she began crying softly and cece began to stir before waking up and seeing the toddler at the door, barely being able to stand.
“dove?” cece’s hoarse and tired voice rang out in the room as she got out of bed and grabbed the little girl into her arms.
at cece’s now empty spot on the bed, adam stirred and eventually woke and let out a sigh. this had been a constant struggle with paloma since the hearing but he couldn’t hold it against her, she didn’t even know what was going on. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t exhausted, though.
adam rubbed his eyes and sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair as he watched cece comfort paloma. he knew that the past few weeks had been tough on all of them, especially on paloma. ever since the hearing, she had been more clingy than usual, sensing the tension in the air.
"another bad dream?" adam asked, his voice still thick with sleep as he glanced over at cece and paloma.
cece nodded, her own exhaustion evident in the lines of her face. "yeah. they're getting more frequent, adam. i'm getting a little worried."
adam sighed as he stayed silent for a moment before speaking up. "she's fine. it's normal for her to wanna sleep with us, she's a baby."
"adam," cece's voice was a little agitated as adam once again tried to ignore paloma's obvious separation anxiety. she knew he couldn't help it though.
adam felt a pang of guilt at cece's tone. he knew she was right, but he also struggled with seeing paloma upset and he didn't know how he'd cope if he found out there was something wrong. he ran a hand through his hair again, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling on his shoulders.
"i know, cee," adam said softly, reaching out to gently stroke paloma's hair as she nestled against cece. "i just hate seeing her like this, you know? It breaks my heart. and it's my fault, too-"
"don't you dare say that, adam." cece's voice was firm, cutting off adam's self-blame before it could fully take root. she reached out to grasp Adam's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "it isn't anyone's fault except her mother's, for making us all endure the shit she gave us."
adam's shoulders sagged with relief at Cece's words, grateful for her understanding. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to paloma's forehead before resting his forehead against cece's.
"i know," Adam murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "i just... i want to do everything i can to protect her, you know? and when i see her like this... it's hard not to feel like i'm failing."
cece reached up, cupping Adam's cheek in her hand and guiding his gaze to meet hers. "you're not failing, adam. you're the best dad ever and paloma knows that. you can't control everything that happens no matter how hard you try, all you can do is just help her cope."
adam's eyes softened at her words, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. he leaned into her touch, savoring the warmth of her hand against his cheek.
"thank you, cece," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "i needed to hear that."
cece smiled softly, her eyes filled with warmth as she pressed a tender kiss to adam's lips. "of course, adam. we are in this together, remember? we'll figure it out."
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synismet · 24 days ago
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I am always swooning over how brutal and unforgiving Alva Lorenz is as a hunter.
His weapon is one of the most painful to be hit by imo, being that it is scolding hot copper. The tip of that cat's tail is not black for aesthetics, it's been burned black from the heat from the Eye of Darkness. Being smacked by a sharp, jagged, burning hot metal object is so, ohhuuh my GOD.
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Every single part of his abilities and his weapon are meticulously planned and crafted to serve a specific purpose: to judge and debilitate survivors. He puts them in a situation where their actions could very well define the survival of their friends, that they are responsible for what happens to them. Alva sees himself less as a human being, and more as an inevitable force of nature. To himself, he is Inevitability, he is the constant. He will kill the survivors no matter their actions, no matter how selfless they may be, or how selfish, his judgement on them does not change.
But yet, he still tests them, he pushes them to the very brink of insanity through guilt and exhaustion. He turns their only way to freedom into what could very well get them killed. Turning the machines into electrical hazards that shock their hands, ionizing their bodies much like Alva himself is. They inflict themselves with Alva's greatest tool against them, and bring in a constant fear of not knowing when they will experience another painful electrical shock. He makes them stomach the responsibility of easing their comrades pain in exchange for self sacrifice and pain. Will they selfishly run and avoid all the charged ciphers? Or will they accept the responsibility they have, the risk? Is taking that risk worth it? Is it better to save themselves? To run? To avoid pain? The only path of survival against The Hermit is self sacrifice and suffering.
To take in that pain, to endure the constant unpredictable shocking, even as it incapacitates their bodies. The constant shocks I would imagine induce nausea, vomitting, muscle failure, amnesia, electrical burns, involuntary movements, breathing difficulties, disorientation, and more. Each shock being a high voltage hit to their entire nervous system, and their mind. The longer the game goes on, the worse and worse the physical and mental condition gets of the survivors from the constant electrical torture. Alva knows this. He knows how this affects them, and that is why he makes sure his connection prolongs that suffering, anxiety, and panic for as long as possible.
He wants to push survivors to their very limits, and beyond it. He wants to force their darkness out for him to see them bare for what they truly are. He wishes to expose the selfishness and greed of human nature and then punish it as he sees fit. Alva's hunting style is closer to methods used in "advanced interrogation techniques." Than an actual hunter. He tortures survivors until they show or give him what he wants to see. He believes all of humanity to be below him and his deity, he wants to desperately be proven wrong, but his ego tells him that will never happen.
Alva does not even hunt them with urgency, he calmly follows them and watches their every move, even lazily chasing them as if always confident they will fall to their own human weakness. Their struggle for survival means nothing to him, to see their strife to be alive is just a means for him to prove his own theories of human nature. I imagine that realistically, Alva would be more "stealth" oriented. His ability to appear in different places suddenly would disorientate anyone, coming around dark corners or appearing somewhere the survivor did not remember him being, and then being helpless to run as his power paralyzed their body. They can do nothing but watch him attack them, hit them, beat them and bleed them. They can not do anything. Their fate was in the hands of their allies, and their allies if choosing selfishness, chose to sacrifice them.
He is like panther slowly walking up to a helpless lamb, the little lamb broken and unable to move because the mother decided to save its own life, leaving the little lamb entirely defenseless to his claws and teeth. The panther trailed the mother for so long, that her mind broke and her panic and fear made her abandon her young, and all she can do now is watch her baby be ripped to pieces and wait for the panther to come for her next.
Anyone would be pushed to be their worst after being tortured so much, like how prisoners will confess to a crime just to stop the beatings. Alva's release s tier was not a prisoner warden with torture tools for no reason. [that whip is sexy falls over.]
To torment others while holding onto false hope that they will pass his "trials" all the while he actively pushes them to the brink of death, and then to give them false hope of survival, of salvation, is so incredibly sadistic. He is not just scaring them, or chasing, no, he is ensuring every single part of their mind, body, and soul are tortured and given false hope. Alva will always deny that he is being self indulgently sadistic. He will claim divine right, say that he is their savior, or that their own human nature is to blame, and not him. But he is guilty of indulging in his own wants and desires.
There is a reason that Jack of all people commented on how Alva likes to "Play with his food."
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applejuicefruit · 2 years ago
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one where the reader has just given birth to her first child with kylian, and she has a kind of "postpartum depression", she is very insecure about her body, she is exhausted by the new routine, and whenever she has to breastfeed she cries because her breasts are still sensitive and etc... she hesitates to talk to kylian about it, but after a while he brings it up again to understand what is going on with her, they talk about everything and he comforts and cares her... if u can, please.
I love this request so much 😭
Tw: postpartum depression, depression in general, anxiety, reader being self conscious
Kylian Mbappe x reader
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The way you are
Two months ago your life completely changed.
You and Kylian were expecting your first child and you were both thrilled, excited and scared. It was a rollercoaster of emotions but you couldn’t wait to meet the new addition to the family. Two months ago and you gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby boy, Samuel, and you couldn’t be happier. He was Kylian’s twin. But now it was hard for you to get used to the new routine. It wasn’t only waking up in the middle of the night because your baby needed to be changed or fed. It was all the stress that came with the pregnancy. Everyone felt like women had to be happy they welcomed a new life on earth, had to be joyful that the pain they went through for nine months was finally over and had to know everything about taking care of a new born - but it wasn’t like that, these past two months have been hitting you really hard, both mentally and physically.
You were grateful for Kylian to be there every time you needed him, he was such a good father and a very fast learner. His family did helped you a lot too. His mom knew how much having kids could be exhausting so she made sure to watch the baby a couple days so you could rest without getting worried of being woke up.
But still, even if you had free times your mind couldn’t seem to stop. It was a constant fight between you and your brain.
Everytime you looked in the mirror you couldn’t stand the person in front of you. It wasn’t you. You didn’t recognized her. Your body got bigger with the pregnancy, your breast fuller and your legs and feet were always sore.
Breastfeeding was a living hell for you. You thought it would give you joy seeing your baby being so healthy and hungry but you hated those moments and you couldn’t help but think that something was definitely wrong with you. Your breast was always so sensitive and it hurt when Sammy was feeding that you cried every single time. You were always tired more than you were when you were pregnant. The baby took a lot of energy from you.
Kylian noticed that you became quieter and he honestly didn’t like it. You were usually a very talkative person, always bright and joyful, your positive aura protecting you and all the people around you so he started questioning what was going on with you. He waited for you to open up with him but when he saw that you didn’t he broke the silence and made the first move.
“Hey baby…” he approached you one night when you were both in bed, Samuel falling asleep in Kylian’s arms just thirty minutes earlier.
“Hey…” you whispered, completely exhausted.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked laying in bed next to you. You nodded.
“You would tell me if something is wrong, right?” he asked, trying to slowly approach the topic.
“Yes why?” you asked him a bit confused.
“I’m not judging you okay? But…I feel like you’re getting distant from me, from everyone actually and I’m a bit worried…is everything okay baby?” he asked you.
No. Nothing is okay you wanted to say. But you couldn’t complain about it because in your mind, doing all of these painful and tiring things for your baby, would have been absolutely worth it for him in the future, so as a mother you should have endured the pain and going on.
“Yes everything is okay Kylian” you lied.
“Babe please tell me what’s going on? I know you’re not okay I can see that…I just wanna help” he begged you because he hated seeing you like that.
“You wanna help me? Go and breastfeed your child!” you shouted, completely forgetting about the walls you built up and letting all of your emotions coming out “go and look at yourself in the mirror and stand there, staring at someone who’s not you but at the same time looks exactly like you! Take care of Samuel every time he needs to be fed because my breast can’t take it anymore! It hurt Kylian! It hurt so fucking much you have no idea and there’s nothing I can do about it because I am a mom and I shouldn’t be complaining because these are normal things to do but I can’t do it! It’s fucking exhausting and I feel so bad because all I want to do is love my child but I feel like I can’t do it because of all of the pain I’m going though…you have no idea Kylian how every single inch of my body hurts!” you said, completely breaking down.
Kylian was shocked and hurt because he wished he realised sooner that this new routine was completely killing you.
“Baby…hear me out. I love you and that’s not gonna change. I loved your body before and I love your body now because it’s yours. It’s you y/n and I love you just the way you are…” he said holding you in his arms “I’m so sorry you feel this way baby, I really am…I wish I could do something for helping you with the pain…we can try some massages if you want to? I’m open to do anything in my power to make you feel comfortable” he said from the bottom of his heart because he couldn’t stand the idea of you being in pain “what you’re going through it’s normal baby…a lot of women go through postpartum depression and I think talking with a specialist might help you, only if you’re up for it, it’s up to you, but whatever you decide to do I’m here, to help you and support you. You’re not alone in this okay?” he softly said while leaving gentle kisses to your neck.
You calmed down listening to his voice and you were so grateful for having someone like him by your side.
“Thank you Kylian” you said wiping your tears away.
“Don’t thank me baby…I’m here, I will always be here for you, and Sammy, you two are the most important people in my life and I love you so much” he said truthfully.
You fell asleep in his arms, while he softly massaged your back and neck, trying to ease the pain.
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sugasiren · 2 years ago
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◇ Astro Notes! (The HELL NO Edition) ◇
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**FYI: Every Zodiac Sign has value. I hate no one, just have my preferences.
😑 Taurus Mars: HELL NO. Y'all move too fucking slow! And often stay stubborn about dumb shit.
😑 Taurus Suns: HELL NO. Too fucking boring - good God Almighty, change it up already! Lol. Also incapable of admitting when they're wrong and/or acting bitter whenever they *do* actually apologize.
😑 6th House Stellium Individuals: HELL NO. They give me major Mannequin vibes! 🤣 Have struggles with emotional constipation & being inauthentic. Too in their heads & often Debbie-Downers to be around. The 6H even waters down strong Scorpio & Aries energy! 🤷🏾‍♀️ They are less "juicy" than others of their ilk. *Dislike*
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😑 Virgo Sun Males: HELL NO. Overly critical, self-righteous assholes. 💯 Who are oftentimes *more* petty & gossipy than women. Never satisfied! Yuck lol
😑 Pisces Mars: HELL NO. Obscenely passive-aggressive and whiney people. Say what you mean and mean what you say or STFU already. 👍🏾 Thanks!
😑 Sagittarius Moon: HELLO NO. Way too damn moody for me. Extreme highs & lows constantly with them. Can be overly preachy at times, too.
😑 Gemini/Cancer Combo: HELL NO. Batshit crazy bastards!! Their mood swings are like emotional tsunamis and you never know when they're coming. Extremely petty people who can make unwise decisions with unsavory consequences. "Dish it, but can't take it" types. 💯 The men care about you one minute... and are throwing you in the trash the next - over nothing.
😑 Scorpios w/ Virgo Moon: HELL NO. Control Freaks to infinity & beyond!! Think of Regina from Mean Girls. Backstabber Energy. Very imposing presence - they like to intimidate others. 💪 Back TF up, fool. Not having it over here. Bye, now.
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😑 Aquarius Stelliums: HELL NO. These MFers are like the most advanced Calculus - overly complicated & just plain difficult for NO damn reason. I hate Math, too! 🤣 They treat their Love Interests like "friends" and then silently die inside when you ghost them or turn away. WTF did you expect?? 🤷🏾‍♀️ Stop fearing intimacy - that aloof shit gets old, fam. And stop demanding that everyone be "open-minded" when you yourself are often VERY stuck in your own unconventional beliefs.
😑 Leo Suns (unevolved): HELL NO. Total headaches to endure & the absolute WORST ever. 🤣 Unwarranted Egos that *I* pop like a fucking balloon. Their need for constant validation is exhausting & they're absurdly selfish. They give bratty 7 year-old girl vibes!! You know The Lion King right? Unevolved Leos are like Scar. Mature Leos are like Mufasa - the polar opposite & my favorite people on the planet, actually. ☀️ So Lions can be a hit or miss.
Thanks for reading Darlings! 💕 More to come soon.
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ohmynabiii · 1 month ago
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𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 :,)
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Okay, so I understand that this is far from what I usually post, but I feel the need to say it:
(apologies for any writing mistakes, I had a hard time holding back tears lol) So I recently saw a clip of Bang Chan saying he never takes care of himself because he's always busy looking after the other members. It must be such a difficult balance—producing, leading Stray Kids, and enduring the immense pressure of being an idol. Constantly having to look perfect, filter every word, and manage every action. I can only imagine how exhausting it is just being a K-pop idol, but Chan goes even further. He co-produces most of Stray Kids' songs and seems to be caught in this endless cycle of trying to prove himself, not only to his members but to the world.
It's that perfectionist side of him, the inner voice telling him he’s not good enough, when in reality, he is more than enough. He shines brighter than any idol I know. He's like a warm embrace at the end of a long day, the smell of freshly cooked breakfast in the morning, the beating heart of Stray Kids. So many people see what he and the members have created as "home." There is no Stray Kids without Chan. There is no sense of comfort without him.
I wish he could see that—how many people adore him and his art. He started so young, too, never really getting the chance to grow into himself before presenting to the world. I can’t imagine how difficult that must be, having millions of people know your name before you’ve fully figured out who you are.
It's not just the music, either—it's the connection he fosters with his fans, how he pours himself into every livestream, every word of encouragement. There’s something so selfless about him, the way he gives so much of his energy to others without asking for anything in return. It makes me wonder how often he gets to just *be*—without the weight of expectations, without feeling the need to constantly achieve. I think many of us see him as this pillar of strength, but even pillars need rest.
I hope he knows it’s okay to lean on others, to take a break, to simply exist without having to prove his worth. Because his worth isn’t tied to how productive he is, how many songs he writes, or how well he leads. His worth is in who he is, and that’s more than enough.
And maybe that’s the hardest part for him—the constant push and pull between being someone’s leader, producer, and friend, while also trying to stay grounded in his own sense of self. It’s hard to imagine where he finds the time to just reflect, to listen to his own needs when he’s so busy listening to everyone else’s. I wonder if he’s ever able to truly step away from the responsibilities, the unspoken expectations that come with being the ‘glue’ of Stray Kids. Maybe that’s why so many of us resonate with him—we see a bit of ourselves in his struggle, that desire to do everything and be everything for everyone, even when it feels impossible.
But I hope he knows it’s okay to put himself first, to protect his own peace. Because without him, there would be a void, not just in the group but in the hearts of the people he’s touched. His music, his kindness, his energy—those things are irreplaceable. He has given so much of himself to the world, and I think it’s time the world gives a little back to him. We all want him to succeed, not just as a leader but as a person, to find joy and fulfillment in the quiet moments, when the stage lights are off and the world isn’t watching.
He deserves to know that he’s enough just as he is—that even when he’s not creating, performing, or leading, his presence is more than enough. Chan isn’t just the heart of Stray Kids; he’s the heart of so many people’s lives, the comfort they seek at the end of the day. And I hope, more than anything, he feels that same comfort within himself. He deserves it.
But damn, do I miss those Channie’s hugs.
🦋
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