#and i actually did breathing exercises this week
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justgivemethephd · 1 day ago
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29.11.2024
Another week over, another week closer to the holidays!
I have had... such a messy week. I struggled to focus throughout but still got some very good work done. I've finished the part of my upgrade report I started a few days ago and I'm ready to move on to my results section next week. I still don't have all the data I need, so I'll get as far as I can with that and then move on to editing what I already have because we all know just how messy a first draft can be. I also got 100% stuck on my coding exercises. On Monday I'm going to give myself a proper few hours to go through it but if I still don't make progress I'll have to ask my friend for some help. No shame in that, of course, but I really want to push myself and try to complete it alone first.
My experiments were interesting this week to say the list. I spent 7 hours on my ex vivo assay because everything kept going wrong and in the end, right as I was about to put my plate into the incubator and go home for the evening... I dropped it face down onto the floor. All my work just splattered all over the dusty ground. Did I want to cry? Yes absolutely. Did I cry? No. I closed my eyes, took 10 deep breaths, and reminded myself things like this happen all the time, that it's not important, and that getting angry won't change it. I still had to go sit outside to chill for a bit, but I was able to start fresh the next day and I now have a new plate waiting for a media change tomorrow.
My boyfriend also surprised me this week. He took me out to this new restaurant for dinner and bought me this beautiful bracelet. I don't know what I did to deserve this but I feel so unbelievably grateful.
I'm also starting to focus more on myself and my inner peace again! I've started to work out, I'm taking it very slowly but it feels good to be moving again. And I'm going out way more! Actually this weekend I'm going to a Christmas market with my friend, so maybe I can take some cute pictures!
I hope everyone has a lovely weekend.
Make sure to rest and take care of yourselves!
_____
🎧 - YAFA by Lana Lubany
🎮 - Animal Crossing
📖 - Different Seasons by Stephen King
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utterqueerdisasterthesimp · 2 months ago
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acc gonna cry im too ill to practice horn
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9ofspades · 5 months ago
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It’s disability pride month, and if you are disabled in the U.S. from Long Covid I want you to know that you’re not alone, and you’re valid in whatever you feel. Whether that’s sorrow at your new problems or rage at society for failing you, you are valid, and it is truly messed up that society is continuing to fail you.
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phagodyke · 1 year ago
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tried going to bed early bc ive just been sitting staring at the wall or my phone all afternoon but it's been 3 hours now and I can't stop crying. :(
#I dont even know why im so fucking sad. this last week has felt like getting hit by a train repeatedly for no reason whatsoever#and it fucking hurts so bad and i cant fix it because i dont know whats wrong!!!!!!#i think thsts why its been so hard sleeping lately like my brain is problem solving but theres nothing there to be solved#and i dont even have anyone to talk to about it and even if i did i wouldnt have anything to say bc i dont know im just fucking. sad#like yeah ive gotten upset abt other things but thats me projecting my mental state onto everything. theres no original cause#unless it really is just pms and some hormonal shit which is likely but kinda insane to think abt. like yeah my body has decided#to flood the entire fucking system with Kill That Egg™ for a straight week except its too effective and makes me want to kill myself also#but apparently not fucking effective enough to start my actual fucking period. yippee#i want a thousand year long hug and to cry rly snottily into someones shirt and then to fall asleep and wake up feeling rested#man. nothing makes me feel any different. exercising and sleeping and socialising and eating and showering and reading#and i can feel my interest in things trickling away like i havent been able to do a lot of shit i rly want to bc of this barrier#and ive been trying to make myself do some things regardless bc inactivity will just make it worse. but nothing works!!!!!!!#i dont even know anymore man. i do everything right and im still as depressed as i was like 8 years ago#and i know thats just the depressed brain talking like i know i dont constantly feel like this but its hard to see outside of it man#u spend ur whole life drowning but its ok bc sometimes u get ur head above the surface long enough to take a breath or whatever#insert overused mentally ill metaphor here etcetcetc#ok i think ive run out of things to say im gonna try sleep again. day 1 billion of making longass vent posts sorry everyone#gn#.vent
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milfbro · 2 years ago
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(I have to keep saving my anti-corset rant to drafts asdfghjkl, no one cares alice)
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billthedrake · 3 months ago
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CAMP DADDY
"You got this, Carter," I heard from behind me. It was Dave, the guy at the camp I'd bonded with the most.
I wasn't sure I had it. Over the last week we'd done a lot of challenging stuff... long hikes, swimming races, rock climbing, you name it. But the spelunking was freaking me out a little, between the darkness and the tight spaces. I didn't realize I had claustrophobia, but I guess I did. I was hyperventilating.
"Come on, relax, bro," my buddy said. "One inch at a time. I'm right behind ya, man."
I pushed through. And once I cleared into a bigger part of the cave, I saw more headlamps ahead. I unclenched my held breath.
***
I'd been a real fuck up of a teenager. That's why I was here at this Outward Bound camp. Strike one was shoplifting and getting caught for it. Strike two was yelling at my dad and calling him a piece of shit, on his birthday no less. Strike three was the ketamine use. The next weekend Dad was shipping me off to this godforsaken place in the woods upstate. He wasn't going to pay for baseball, college, or my car if I didn't go. So I did.
The first couple of days I gave a bunch of lip to the counselors. I couldn't stand their fake-cheery demeanor or their 12-step BS. "Stay strong," we had to say at the end of each "huddle" meeting. Like it was fucking church.
But I was smart, smart enough how to play this. I knew I should just lay low, go along with it enough. It was just three weeks.
It helped that I bonded with Dave the first day. He was another baseball jock and cynical too. We made fun of the Sunday School teacher vibe of the lead counselor Mr. Connell. Only at Outward bound we were supposed to call the counselors by first name.
Dave had been there a week. "At least all the physical stuff is good exercise," he said. "I'm actually getting in really great shape for next season."
It was true. There was a gym, too, in the common room of the main cabin basement. Kind of a basic barbells and benches kind of gym but a lot of us jocks would work out together, until I got annoyed by them too. Other than Dave, they all bought into the 12 step crap.
I started talking to Pete, a punk guy with a shaved head and a permanent snarl on his face. He was cool. He wasn't just cynical, he'd talk back to the counselors. But one day he was just gone. No Pete.
***
Maybe unconsciously I was trying to get Pete's fate. Get out of this fucking place. I thought three weeks would go fast, but a week and a half had drained me. I mouthed off to Mr. Connell. Sorry, to "Mike." He smiled in that fakey way and tried to be zen about it. But I was getting to him. After dinner I sulked on my own. I'd started to realize Dave was in on it. Playing normal to get my confidence and win me over to the Program.
I was wallowing in self-pity sure, because I knew I was crushed out on Dave. I'd hidden the gay thing pretty well my last few years, but now I didn't have booze or pot or drugs to push my feelings down. Maybe that's why I was acting out, I don't know. My body was just a mess of hormones and my brain a bunch of conflicted thoughts.
***
I woke up in a room that was identical to the two-bed cabin I'd been sleeping in with another guy Zach. Only it wasn't the same room and there was no Zach. On the other full bed a man sat reading a book, kind of a big beefy-but trim older man, dressed in joggers and a zip-up athletic top that clung to his thick muscle. I thought it was a sex dream, but the second I realized it was real I jolted awake, sitting up straight in my small bed.
"Wait, who are you?" I blurted out. This man wasn't one of the counselors. He was older, with salt-and-pepper hair trimmed short. Probably in his early 50s.
Patiently the man set down his book. He didn't have that fakey-nice look but was on the sterner side of normal. "You can call me Daddy," he said. He had a smooth tenor voice.
This was weirder than a dream. "What the fuck?!" I yelled. "I'm not fucking calling you Daddy. Where's Zach? Where are the other guys?"
He shrugged. "You didn't like the other guys," Daddy explained. "We had to change plans."
I was freaking out now. More than in that dark cave. I jolted up and ran to the door. This cabin wasn't in a big compound but was attached to a single small room with a window overlooking the mountains. I looked back on the bed. The man was surprisingly calm, like he expected my reaction, or worse. That was one thing that made me try to check my emotion, to use my head. I knew how these fuckers worked.
"This is kidnapping," I said. I was realizing I must have been drugged to be moved entirely to this new place.
Daddy shook his head. "Fraid not. And we suggested to your father that we extend your stay here to two months. He agreed it's needed. We'll add more if takes all summer.
I broke down. Tears welled up in my eyes. I wasn't going to let this asshole see me cry, and yet I already was. Defeated, I sat on the bed facing away from him.
"It's OK," he said, with terse reassurance. "It's tough here. I'll make breakfast for when you're ready."
***
I gave him the silent treatment. Unlike the Outward Bound counselors he didn't try to make me talk. Maybe he was giving me the silent treatment too, maybe he realized a one-way conversation was useless.
I got dressed and while Daddy was showering up, I stepped out of the small cabin. There was a trail, and it had to lead somewhere. I took one look back into the cabin, then took off.
Fortunately the trail split a few times so if Daddy followed me he'd have a hard time catching up. I don't know why I hadn't thought of escaping before.
I got lost. Real fucking lost. The deeper into the woods I got, the less sense I had of where to go. The day went on. I got hungry. I kept walking. I expected to hear a highway or cars or people or some sign of civilization. Nothing.
I was freaking out. I stopped and sat on a tree trunk. Crying. There was no Dave urging me on. No "stay strong" mantra. No other guys. It was just me, fucking up again. My stomach rumbled, and I felt thirsty. It was getting dusk. I couldn't believe I'd have to sleep out here, but my big fear was wondering if I'd ever get back.
I heard rustling on the trail. Then saw a flashlight and the dark imposing figure of a 6'4" man coming my way. It was Daddy.
"Here," he said, offering me a sandwich and water. "Have this, then we'll head back."
I was too grateful and relieved to mouth off. But on our walk back I had a realization. "You knew I was here," I said.
"Yes," Daddy replied. They probably had a tracking chip in my clothes somehow.
"And you made me wait here alone."
"Yes," he admitted. "You had to learn the hard way, Carter." There was an undercurrent of empathy to his voice.
***
It took me a couple of days, but I opened up. And once I started talking, you couldn't shut me up, it felt like. I talked about my problems, and Daddy listened. It was like a therapy session and a buddy conversation, from breakfast till night.
Daddy was the first man I told I was gay. We were sitting on the Adirondack chairs outside, enjoying the view of the mountains and the sunset and I just went there. I confessed my problems dating girls and the times I got erection problems during sex.
"I told them I was drunk, but I wasn't," I said.
"I'd have done the same," Daddy said in his mellow voice.
That caught me off guard. I tried to read him, but he was still an enigma to me. A flash of me wondered if he was into men. The dude was jacked for his age, and I got a flash of excitement imagining him having sex.
Daddy was counselor, captor, friend, and father figure rolled into one. "What's your deal, man?" I asked. Not hostile like before, but probing. "Here I am spilling my guts out and I don't even know your name."
He smiled but just kept his even manner. "You don't need to know name, just Da..."
"I know," I interrupted. "You're 'Daddy.'"
Something about my exasperated tone made him smile. And maybe relent. "I did Outward Bound when I was your age. I acted out, got into trouble," he explained. "The Program set me straight."
"Was the program as unconventional when you did it?" I gestured around to the isolated cabin where I was more or less hostage.
That got a grin. "More so."
I was curious. "Did you have a Daddy?"
He nodded. "I did." He took a sip from the can of soda. "Later he taught me how to be a Daddy."
I still didn't get whatever psychoanalytic babble the Program was tapping into, but Daddy's words did make me think.
"You know what makes me, mad?" I asked.
"What?"
"This shit's probably working."
That got a chuckle. "You'll be glad when it's over Carter."
It was dark now and it felt darker out here in the middle of nowhere. "You ready for bed, kiddo?"
It was the first time Daddy used that nickname. But I replied I was.
We'd talked so much we were pretty quiet now as we went inside and got ready for bed. Normally Daddy slept in a T-shirt and shorts but that evening he peeled off his shirt. In the lamplight I could admire the powerful chest muscle and ripped abs. Best of all that DILF body was covered in a trimmed coat of salt-and-pepper fur. Before Daddy I didn't realize I was into older men. Now, I had to check my gaze.
"It's ok to look, buddy," the man said. His voice was as soft and encouraging as I'd ever heard it.
"What?" I replied in a checked grunt.
He tossed the shirt aside and turned to face me directly. He was a masculine god, even more alluring for his quiet nature. "It's OK to look," he repeated. "That's what Daddies are for."
The words were fucked up but they gave me a boner, instantly. I couldn't help it.
Daddy saw and was unfazed, peeling down his joggers to show off his soft genitals. That cock was meaty and matched the low-hanging full nuts in their shaved-smooth sac. It wasn't the first cock I'd seen of course, but it was the first live one I'd seen in a sort of sexual situation.
He walked over and pulled down the bed sheets. Daddy's backside was just as magnificent as his front. Strong back and a meaty round ass, the kind I didn't know 50-something men had. But Daddy had one.
My body was shaking, nervously, but the man was acting normal, getting into bed and pulling up the sheet to his abdomen. He gave one more look over.
"If you want to join me Carter, that's your move."
I didn't know if this was some Outward Bound trap or mindgame. A part of me didn't care, I was so horny. It's as if my brain couldn't stop my body from slipping out of my bed and crossing over. The one thing that gave me courage was seeing Daddy scoot his bed to the side to give me room to get in as he lifted the sheet a little. I could see a flash of his erection, even, thick and meaty like him.
"Stay strong, kiddo," he said softly and I nodded, getting into the bed to join him, my body shaking.
"There," he grinned as I finally settled into a lying position next to him. I could feel the heat of his body even if I was afraid to touch him still.
"You're first time with a man?" Daddy asked.
"Yes, Daddy." It was the first time I called him that. It made him smile, which made me glad.
His fingers touched my flank. I was still wearing my shorts but was shirtless and the skin contact felt incredible. This wasn't faking it with a girl.
"You're a very handsome young man, Carter," Daddy said in that soft tenor voice of his. "I'm honored to be your Daddy."
With that the mean leaned in and placed his lips against mine. It was my first kiss with a man, and nothing prepared me for it. A tingle went up my body and my prick surged even harder in my shorts. Particularly when Daddy's tongue pressed forward between my lips and into my mouth.
I was following his lead. Daddy was my coach at that moment. Coach in life and Coach in sex. I couldn't have dreamed of a better one. It was intense and sexual and passionate, but we also took our time.
As we got into it, I got the courage to feel him. His hairy, muscular, warm body. I reached down and touched his cock, hard and alive in my grip. My first dick, and one I'd never forget.
The way I moaned made Daddy pull back from the kiss.
"You like that, buddy?" he grinned.
"Yes, sir," I hissed.
"You like dick," he said with assured ease. "Don't let anyone make you think you're a lesser man because of it."
"No, Daddy," I replied, gripping his boner one last time before relinquishing it. I had to feel up the rest of him, too. More.
He slipped my shorts down, at least from one side till I decided to help him out. My dick was sap-wet and as rigid as I had ever remembered it being.
"You're not the only one," he said. "Not the only young man into dick. Your buddy Dave..." he started.
That jolted me in surprise. "For real?"
Daddy nodded. His hand now circled around my crotch before his fingers grazed my boner. "For real."
I don't know if it was jealousy or something else I was feeling. "You do stuff with him?" I asked.
The man shook his head. "No. He has a different Daddy," he explained, pausing before deciding his could share the information. "Connell."
Well, fuck me, I thought. The last thing I would expect.
Now Daddy's lips were on my neck, kissing me as his hand alternated between massaging my smoother body and stroking my cock. "You up for the full ride tonight, Carter?" he asked.
If he'd asked me that even an hour before, I would have chickened out. But the body contact and the sexual intimacy made me want it all.
"Yeah, Daddy, I do," I answered. "Stay strong, right?"
That got a laugh. He leaned up. I'd never seen him look so hot, so handsome. "Yeah, kiddo... that's right. Stay strong." He leaned in for another kiss, softer this time. It felt right. Righter than right.
Then he started working his way down, kissing my chest and abs, feeling me up some, telling me he was going to take his time.
I got my dick sucked for the first time. I got my balls licked. Then Daddy urged me to pull back my legs and proceeded to give me my first rim job.
I decided then and there that two months here wasn't going to be enough. I hoped my Dad would keep me here the whole damn summer.
"Oh fuck!" I hissed. It was stimulating and naughty and tickling at the same time. I loved getting eaten out. I didn't have anyone to compare it to, but Daddy was a pro. Eager, intense yet also working in some finesse to keep it intersting.
I slowly relaxed my hole. My whole body was relaxed, in fact, lying back into the bed, looking up at the ceiling as I kept my legs pulled back for Daddy.
The first finger entry caught me by surprise. I looked down to see Daddy's brown eyes fixed on me, as he worked his finger in and out.
"Stay strong, buddy," he urged softly.
"Fuck yeah, Daddy," I replied. Trying to be his good soldier. Daddy was gonna make me a man that night, and I wanted to be all man for him.
He finally pulled back and reached over. I didn't even notice the little jar there before, but Daddy unscrewed the lid and dug in. There was some liquidy grease that coated his fingers.
And now my asshole. Damn, it made his two fingers feel incredible going in. And out. And in again.
"Yeah, you're hungry, kiddo."
I grunted. Those fingers were feeling intense in a great way, but short circuiting my thought. I flashed to think of Dave, imagining Mike Connell doing this to him.
A third finger now breached my relaxed ring. It gave a few gentle prods then pulled out.
"You're ready."
The man scooted in place, his hard dick standing straight up from his hairy crotch that was still darker brown than his chest hair. I had felt but not gotten a real good look at his cock, but Daddy was real thick and maybe 6.5 inches in length. The guy was horned up, too, judging by how rigid his meat was. He slathered some of that grease on his boner and pushed it down to line himself up.
"The entry might be tough," he warned. "Or not."
"You better not say, 'Stay strong,'" I joked.
That got a laugh out of the man. "You're all man, Carter," he said.
And like that his cock was breaching my hole.
"Unnfg!" I let out, before I caught myself. The sting surprised me. It didn't hurt too bad, but the unfamiliarity of it freaked me out some.
Daddy's hands rand along my abs, gently, coaxing me silently to relax. I tried, until I was successful. More dick slid into me. The man was patient, but I could tell he was really turned on.
I was getting my cherry taken away, and I was thrilled, particularly when Daddy's cock bored deeper. Weirdly, the deeper the man went the better it felt. Daddy felt bigger than 6.5 inches. Maybe I'd underestimated his size, maybe it was just the psychological effect of having him buried inside me.
"Fuck yeah, kiddo," Daddy growled. "Take it."
I looked up at him. The man was a stud who knew what he was doing. "You done this before?" I asked. "Taken a guy's virginity?"
The question caught him off guard. It was almost like he didn't want to answer me. But he looked down with those soulful brown eyes and replied, "I have, Carter. Many times." He pulled his hips back and thrust in. THAT felt fricking amazing and I held onto his meaty arms. Then again. "But I care about each and every one," he added. His thrusts got faster, as Daddy intuited I was receptive. "I care about you, kiddo."
Daddy was taking me there. Physically and psychologically, he was showing me how amazing getting fucked could be. The man wasn't rough, but he pumped faster and harder. He was teaching me I loved it that way. I held on and looked up at him and felt my prick quiver.
"Fuck me, Daddy!" I hissed.
"Yeah, kiddo. Daddy's got ya." His body seemed in control but his breath was ragged and heavy. The man was turned on like hell.
That thick cock seemed a blur inside me now, its way in my tunnel greased up and the heavy hard rod punching some spot inside me.
I dind't realize I was so close to cumming until Daddy's greased fist wrapped around my bone. Not even needing to stroke it, just touching me made me fire off. I saw white, and my body felt hot and tense, then it all got released with a series of cum shots firing out of my young jock body.
I tried to keep my vision, to look up at Daddy in gratitude. To watch his own O face take over form the calm, collected surety of his experience. That got tossed out the window when Daddy came. He was as lost in pleasure as me. That made me happy.
We crashed together. Holding onto one another's hot sweaty bodies, them our lips meeting to kiss again.
"Oh buddy," he hissed finally. Like I was the one who'd done him a favor. Maybe I had.
We didn't talk after, we didn't need to. Instead, Daddy held me in a spoon position and we drifted off to sleep. At least for a few hours before we had sex again.
***
The next week, Daddy had me pack my backpack, and he led me back to main compound. I would have been sad our alone time was over, but I knew it wasn't going to be our last. Daddy didn't have to tell me. I just knew he'd be in my life from now on and me in his.
Punk dude Pete was back. His hair had grown out and was in a military buzz and his snarl was gone. Dave though was the one who welcomed me first with a bro hug. The other guys followed suit.
I wondered how many of them had a Daddy.
***
I was part of the Program now. Welcoming the newcomers. Bonding with the cynical ones. I'd been where they were and knew what they were going through. I'd been a fuck up, too.
Two months went by quickly. My Dad was there to pick me up. He had an apprehensive look on his face. Connell told me that Dad had been updated on my progress, but after what my father had been through maybe he was nervous I'd not been truly changed.
I had my mobile phone back, and I'd already looked at the last messages multiple times. "Stay strong, kiddo - Daddy." Then "You better stay in touch. Love ya, Carter."
I took one last look and tucked my phone into my pocket before running over to give my Dad a big hug.
"Damn, Sport."
Dad hadn't called me Sport in ages.
"Thank you, Dad," I said. There would be more to say later. But the look on his face was a huge reward. His fingers grazed behind my ear as he held my head steady and looked into my eyes. Like he was reunited with a son he'd lost for real.
"OK if we break up the journey home?" he asked, snapping out of his spell and grabbing my bag from me. "It's a long drive."
"Of course," I said.
We got settled into the front seat and Dad started the car. We made some small talk, and Dad caught me up on life back home. Though I didn't miss much, other than maybe Dad re-treating the wood on the back deck.
We were winding down the mountain and re-entering civilization. At least if these small, one-traffic-light towns counted as civilization.
Dad shifted from the small talk. "So... you survived OK, Son?"
I nodded. "More than survived, Dad. Thrived." I had bought into the whole Program now.
He seemed pleased. "I, um... heard from an old Army buddy of mine," he said. Something in his tone seemed laden with meaning. "He said he got to know you real well."
I blushed. I knew damn well my father was talking about Daddy.
"Yes, sir. We got real tight."
Dad had a good idea of what I meant. He gave a gentle nod and glanced over at me. "I'm glad to hear."
I was chubbing up in my jeans now thinking about Daddy. "OK if I go visit him sometime, Dad?" I asked.
Dad's voice got quiet. "That can probably be arranged."
I thought maybe I freaked my dad out. But we were quiet for a lot of that drive. It had been around 3PM when I'd checked out of the Compound, and it was getting dinner time.
I loved diner food and after two months of Outward Bound meals, I was ready for a real restaurant meal. I scarfed down my food, which amused Dad. "Looks like they haven't been feeding you, Sport," he said.
"They definitely don't believe in creature comforts," I said. I pulled out my phone. "This might have been the hardest thing to live without." I mostly was checking to see if Daddy sent me another message.
Dad laughed. Then he got serious. "So... no hard feelings, Carter?"
I sighed. "God, Dad. After what I did to you? What I put your through? I don't know how to make it up to you."
"You don't have to make anything up to me, Son. Just stay on the straight and narrow. At least till you find yourself."
I took that in. "I'm finding myself, Dad. For real."
"That's all a father can ask," he said.
Dad was normally not great at expressing emotion, and already he was itching to get the check and pay for the meal.
We drove a little bit more. Dad had me find an available hotel that wasn't too expensive. I don't think I realized until we checked in how long of a day it had been. Emotionally as much as anything.
I decided not to check my phone again. Daddy and I would find a groove to correspond and to meet again. I trusted him.
After I brushed my teeth, Dad was in one of the beds, watching TV on low volume. He wasn't build quite as strong as Daddy but his upper body was solid, and he had the same soft furry chest. As I stripped down to my briefs, Dad's eyes watched me furtively. Probing me with soft expectation.
I took the initiative this time. Just feeling Dad's eyes on my half-naked body was all the signal I needed. Pausing at my own bed, I turned back to him. "Ok if I join you instead?" I asked.
Dad was too scared to reply. But he nodded and slid over.
Only when I got into bed with him did I realize that Dad's bod was more solid than I initially thought. His clothes always hid the hard tone of his muscle and he had some love handles that stopped shy of a beer belly.
Our kiss was soft and taboo as fuck. Dad's hands clung to my body, like eagle talons. I pushed my tongue into my father's mouth and felt him plunge his back. Dad didn't kiss like Daddy did. It was hard and needy.
Just as impetuously he and I stripped down our underwear. Our dicks were a lot alike. Longer, regular thickness, with a gentle curve to the right, heaving leaking. Like twins. Dad looked down at mine, like I did at his.
"You're all grown up, Carter."
"Yeah, Dad." I reached down and touched his cock. My dad's cock. He wasn't Daddy, he wasn't my first man, but the forbidden aspect made it off the charts. "I gotta learn to be your son again, though."
Dad gulped. His eyes grew misty wet. "You never stopped, sport. Not even this last year."
We kissed. Dad was responding to my soft approach, like I'd responded to Daddy's. My hand ran along his strong chest and his softer middle as we made out. I felt every bit of guilt for how I'd treated Dad and it was coming out in the only way I knew. Like Dad, I wasn't good at expressing emotion.
But I was good at this.
I broke off the kiss with a playful smile. Dad seemed to be trying to read what I was thinking. I let him wonder a minute longer.
I scooted down, kind of kneeling on the bed, till I was face to face with the dick that made me. I touched it again, feeling its poker hot heat and its steel rigidity. I could smell his masculine scent.
"Sport..." he urged, as if telling me something.
His next words caught in his throat as I took his dick into my mouth. I paused a second. Daddy had instructed me in this, but my father's cock felt particularly dry until I summoned up some extra saliva. Then I went down on him, slowly, teasingly.
I was going to make things up to Dad in the way I knew how.
He placed his hand on my head, softly cradling it as I lovingly blew him to completion.
***
The next morning when Dad was in the shower I sent a text.
"Daddy, you didn't tell me you knew my father."
He was up and the reply was quick. "You had to find out for yourself." Then, "I hope you can be a junior counselor next summer."
I thought of what next year would mean. Being off at college, enjoying some independence. Making new friends.
But I knew that meant nothing. "You know I will," I wrote.
"Stay strong," Daddy replied.
"Stay strong," I wrote back, then set down my phone.
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kiesbrainjuice · 4 months ago
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— ITS VOLLEYBALL OR ME ! tobio kageyama
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➥ syn : too obsessed with volleyball make you nearly loose your wife!
➥ wc : 3.5k
➥ tw : angst to fluff, heated argument, reader cry a lot, comfort
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As I sat alone in our quiet apartment, I couldn't help but reflect on the life I shared with my husband, Tobio Kageyama. We'd been married for three years now, and while I loved him deeply, his obsession with volleyball was starting to take its toll on our relationship.
Tobio had always been passionate about the sport, even back in high school when we first met. I found his dedication admirable then, and it was one of the things that drew me to him. But now, as a professional player, his commitment had reached new heights – often at the expense of our time together.
Our days followed a predictable pattern. Tobio would wake up at dawn, go for a run, then head to practice. He'd return home late in the evening, exhausted but still buzzing with energy as he analyzed his performance or watched recordings of matches. Even during meals, his mind was on the court, discussing strategies or areas he wanted to improve.
At first, I tried to involve myself in his world. I attended his matches, learned the intricacies of the game, and even attempted to play a bit myself. But as time went on, I found myself feeling more and more like a spectator in my own marriage.
The loneliness crept in slowly. Weekends that should have been ours were filled with extra training sessions or team-building exercises. Holidays were planned around his tournament schedule. Even on the rare occasions when we did have time together, Tobio's thoughts were often elsewhere, replaying moments from recent games or strategizing for upcoming ones.
I'd tried talking to him about it, of course. Tobio would always apologize, promise to do better, to make more time for us. And for a while, things would improve. But inevitably, the siren call of the volleyball court would draw him back, leaving me alone once again.
Tonight was supposed to be different. We had plans – actual plans – for a date night. Dinner at the new restaurant downtown, followed by a walk in the park. It wasn't much, but I had been looking forward to it all week. A chance to reconnect, to remember why we fell in love in the first place.
But as the hours ticked by and Tobio didn't show up, I felt the familiar ache of disappointment settling in my chest. I knew, without having to call or text, exactly where he was. The gym. Always the gym.
As I sat there, dressed up with nowhere to go, I couldn't help but wonder: was this what the rest of my life would look like? Always coming second to a sport? Always waiting for a man who was more committed to his team than to his wife?
The anger began to build, a slow simmer that gradually rose to a boil. I'd had enough. It was time to go home and have a serious conversation with my husband – whenever he decided to show up.
I stormed into our apartment, tears streaming down my face. The silence that greeted me only fueled my anger and hurt. I slammed the door behind me, not caring about the noise.
With shaking hands, I unzipped my dress - the one I'd carefully chosen for our date - and let it fall to the floor. I didn't bother hanging it up, instead leaving it in a crumpled heap as I made my way to the bathroom.
The hot water of the shower mingled with my tears. I stood there, letting it wash over me, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside. Disappointment, frustration, loneliness - they all swirled together, threatening to overwhelm me.
After what felt like hours, I finally stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for another night alone.
But as I walked into the kitchen, I froze. There was Tobio, still in his practice clothes, sweat glistening on his forehead. He was rummaging through the fridge, completely oblivious to the turmoil he'd caused.
"Oh, you're home," he said, glancing up at me with a casual smile. "Practice ran late. Did you eat yet?"
I stared at him, my jaw clenched. The familiar rage bubbled up inside me, but this time, I pushed it down. Instead, I felt a cold detachment settling over me.
"No," I replied, my voice flat. "I haven't eaten."
Tobio raised an eyebrow at my tone but didn't seem to pick up on the tension. "Great, I'm starving. Want to order in?"
I shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Whatever you want."
He paused, finally seeming to notice something was off. "Are you okay?"
I didn't answer, simply turning away to head to the bedroom. "I'm tired. Order what you like."
As I walked away, I could feel his confused gaze on my back. But for once, I didn't care about explaining or smoothing things over. Let him wonder. Let him figure it out for himself.
I closed the bedroom door behind me, leaving Tobio alone in the kitchen. The wall of silence between us felt impenetrable, and for the first time, I wasn't sure I wanted to break it down.
I slipped into my pajamas mechanically, my movements slow and deliberate. The soft fabric offered little comfort as I climbed into bed, pulling the sheets up to my chin and turning to face the wall. I could hear Tobio moving around in the kitchen, the familiar sounds of his evening routine doing nothing to soothe the ache in my chest.
Minutes later, I heard his footsteps approaching the bedroom. The door creaked open, and I felt the bed dip as he settled in beside me. His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me close. His breath was warm against my neck as he nuzzled into me.
"Hey," he murmured, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You seem upset."
For a moment, I said nothing, my body rigid in his embrace. Then, something inside me snapped. I took a deep, shuddering breath and spoke, my voice eerily calm despite the storm raging within.
"No, Tobio. Everything is not okay." I didn't turn to face him, keeping my gaze fixed on the wall. "Do you know where I was tonight?"
I felt him tense behind me. "What do you mean?"
"I was at Ristorante Bella. Sitting at a table for two, all alone." My voice remained steady, but each word was laced with hurt. "I waited for you for two hours, Tobio. Two hours of watching other couples enjoy their meals, of pitying glances from the waitstaff, of making excuses for why my husband wasn't there."
I paused, letting the words sink in. "We had plans tonight. Plans we made a week ago. But once again, volleyball took priority."
Tobio's arm loosened around me. "I... I forgot. Practice ran late, and I-"
"You didn't even text," I interrupted, finally rolling over to face him. In the dim light, I could see the shock and guilt etched across his features. "You didn't call. You just... forgot about me. About us."
I watched as realization dawned on his face. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, reaching out to touch my cheek. "I didn't mean to-"
I pulled away from his touch. "That's the problem, Tobio. You never mean to. But it keeps happening. Over and over again." I sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep coming second to volleyball."
Tobio sat up, running a hand through his hair. "What are you saying?"
I met his gaze, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm saying that something needs to change. Because right now, I feel like I'm losing you... and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on."
The silence that fell between us was heavy with unspoken words and uncertain futures. As I turned away from him once more, I wondered if this would be the wake-up call we needed, or if it was the beginning of the end.
I couldn't stand lying there anymore, the tension thick in the air. I abruptly sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing up.
"Where are you going?" Tobio asked, his voice tinged with confusion and worry.
"I can't do this here," I said, walking out of the bedroom. I heard him scramble to follow me.
In the living room, I whirled to face him. "Do you have any idea how it feels, Tobio? To constantly be an afterthought in your own marriage?"
His face contorted with guilt. "You're not an afterthought. I just got caught up in practice-"
"It's always practice!" I interrupted, my voice rising. "Or a game, or watching tapes, or team bonding. When was the last time we had a real conversation that didn't revolve around volleyball?"
Tobio ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his posture. "Volleyball is my career. You knew that when you married me."
"I married a man, not a sport!" I shot back. "I love that you're passionate about volleyball, Tobio. I really do. But sometimes it's just... it's too much."
My voice cracked on the last word, and suddenly the tears I'd been holding back spilled over. "Do you know how many nights I spend alone in this apartment? How many dinners I eat by myself? How many times I've had to make excuses to our friends about why you couldn't make it to their events?"
Tobio took a step towards me, his hand outstretched, but I backed away. "I'm trying to support your dreams, but I feel like I'm disappearing. Like I'm fading away, and you don't even notice."
My next words came out as a choked whisper, "Do you even still love me, Tobio? Or am I just... convenient? Someone to come home to when volleyball is done with you for the day?"
Tobio's eyes widened in shock. "Of course I love you! How can you even ask that?"
"Because I don't feel it!" I cried, the dam finally breaking. "I don't feel loved when you forget our plans. I don't feel loved when you'd rather stay late at practice than spend time with me. I don't feel loved when I'm always, always second to volleyball."
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling very small. "I'm tired, Tobio. I'm so tired of competing with a sport for my husband's attention. And I don't know how much longer I can do this."
The silence that followed was deafening. We stood there, meters apart but feeling like miles, as the weight of my words hung in the air between us.
Tobio's face contorted, a mix of hurt and anger flashing in his eyes. "You think I don't care about you? Everything I do, all the practice, all the games - it's for us! For our future!"
"Our future?" I scoffed, my voice rising. "What future, Tobio? The one where I'm always alone, always waiting for you to remember I exist?"
He took a step forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "That's not fair! You knew how important volleyball was to me when we got married. You can't just decide now that it's too much!"
"I'm not asking you to quit!" I shouted back, my frustration boiling over. "I'm asking you to remember that you have a wife, that you have a life outside of that gym!"
Tobio ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. "You don't understand. This is my dream, my passion-"
"And what about my dreams?" I interjected, my voice cracking. "What about my passion for having a real marriage, a real partnership?"
He threw his hands up in exasperation. "What do you want from me? To give up everything I've worked for?"
"I want you to care!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. "I want you to show up when we have plans! I want you to text me when you're going to be late! Is that really too much to ask?"
Tobio's jaw clenched. "You're being selfish. You knew what you were getting into-"
"Selfish?" I repeated, incredulous. "Selfish is forgetting your wife exists the moment you step onto that court. Selfish is making me feel like I don't matter in my own marriage!"
We stood there, chests heaving, glaring at each other. The silence was deafening, filled with all the hurt and resentment that had been building for months.
"Maybe..." Tobio started, his voice low and dangerous. "Maybe you just don't understand what it takes to be the best. Maybe you never will."
His words hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled back, feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. "Maybe I don't," I whispered, my anger suddenly deflating into a bone-deep weariness. "And maybe that's the problem."
I turned away, unable to look at him anymore. "I can't do this right now. I need... I need some space."
Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, leaving Tobio standing alone in the middle of our living room.
Days had passed since our explosive argument. I'd retreated to our second apartment, a small place we kept for when either of us needed space. The solitude had given me time to think, to process my emotions, and to consider our future.
I was in the kitchen, absently stirring a pot of pasta, when the doorbell rang. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I made my way to the door, wondering who it could be.
As I opened it, my breath caught in my throat. There stood Tobio, looking more disheveled than I'd ever seen him. His eyes were red and puffy, clear evidence that he'd been crying. In his hands, he clutched a bouquet of my favorite flowers.
Before I could ask why he wasn't at practice, Tobio spoke, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."
Those two words, filled with such raw emotion, made my heart clench. I stepped back wordlessly, allowing him to enter.
Tobio shuffled in, his usual confident posture replaced by a slump of defeat. He placed the flowers on the nearby table and turned to face me, his eyes filled with guilt and remorse.
"I've been an idiot," he began, his voice shaky. "These past few days... they've been hell. I couldn't focus on practice, couldn't sleep. All I could think about was how much I've hurt you."
I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms protectively over my chest. "Tobio..."
He held up a hand, asking me to let him continue. "You were right. About everything. I've been so caught up in volleyball that I forgot what's truly important. You. Us."
Tobio took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "I love you. More than volleyball, more than anything. And I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how much I've been neglecting you."
Tears welled up in my eyes as he continued. "I've talked to my coach. I'm cutting back on extra practices. I'm going to be home more, be present more. I want to be the husband you deserve."
He reached out, gently taking my hands in his. "I can't promise I'll be perfect. But I can promise that from now on, you'll always come first. No more forgotten dates, no more nights alone. I want to make this work. I need to make this work."
The sincerity in his voice, the pain in his eyes - it was all too much. I felt my resolve crumbling as tears spilled down my cheeks.
"Oh, Tobio," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest. I could feel his heart racing, matching the rapid beat of my own.
"I love you," he murmured into my hair. "Please, give me another chance. Let me show you how much you mean to me."
I pulled back slightly, looking up into his face. The Tobio I saw there wasn't the volleyball-obsessed athlete, but the man I fell in love with - vulnerable, caring, and completely devoted.
"Okay," I said softly, a small smile tugging at my lips. "We'll try again. Together."
Tobio's face lit up with relief and joy. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine. "Together," he agreed.
As we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, I felt hope blooming in my chest. We had a long way to go, but this was a start. A new beginning for us both.
Tobio held me close, his strong arms enveloping me in a comforting embrace. I could feel his chest rise and fall with each deep breath, as if he was trying to memorize this moment.
"I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His hands gently stroked my back, soothing away the tension I'd been carrying for days.
I burrowed deeper into his chest, inhaling his familiar scent. "I missed you too," I whispered back, my fingers clutching at his shirt.
We stood like that for a long while, just holding each other, reconnecting without words. Eventually, the timer in the kitchen beeped, reminding me of the dinner I'd been preparing.
"I should check on the pasta," I said, reluctantly starting to pull away.
But Tobio's arms tightened around me. "Let me help," he said, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "I want to do this together."
Hand in hand, we walked to the kitchen. As I stirred the pasta, Tobio stood behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. It was as if he couldn't bear to lose physical contact with me, even for a moment.
We moved around the small kitchen, working in tandem to finish preparing the meal. Tobio insisted on helping with every task, from chopping vegetables for the salad to setting the table. All the while, he kept finding excuses to touch me - a gentle hand on my lower back as he reached for plates, fingers brushing mine as he passed me utensils, a quick kiss on my cheek as I plated the food.
As we sat down to eat, Tobio pulled his chair closer to mine, our knees touching under the table. He reached out, taking my hand in his, his thumb gently caressing my knuckles.
"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away.
"For what?" I asked, squeezing his hand.
"For giving me another chance. For being patient with me. For loving me, even when I didn't deserve it." His voice was low, filled with sincerity.
I felt tears prick at my eyes again, but this time they were tears of happiness. "We're in this together, remember?" I reminded him with a small smile.
Tobio nodded, bringing my hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to my palm. "Together," he agreed.
Throughout dinner, Tobio kept finding ways to maintain physical contact - his foot hooked around my ankle, his hand resting on my knee, our shoulders brushing as we ate. It was as if he was trying to make up for all the lost time, all the moments of disconnection.
After we finished eating, Tobio insisted on doing the dishes, pulling me along with him to the sink. We washed and dried in comfortable silence, stealing glances and soft smiles.
As we finished up, Tobio pulled me into another embrace, nuzzling his face into my neck. "Can we just stay like this for a while?" he murmured against my skin.
I nodded, wrapping my arms around him tightly. "As long as you want," I whispered back.
We stood there in the kitchen, holding each other close, the gentle ticking of the clock the only sound in the apartment.
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© kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, repost, or translate !
tag : @haechansbbg
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nonuify · 5 months ago
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ᝰ.ᐟ — LSK ⟢ sex is a workout too
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› nsfw is included ┆ smut — minors dni ꩜. word-count .ᐟ 1.1k. gymbro!seokmin x pilates princess!reader
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stretching out your body on the pinkish-white that matched your leggings & top well for your liking.
you were doing your normal exercise every day routine, too lazy to go to the actual pilates studio, unlike your boyfriend who’d went to the gym for the zillionth time this week.
it was honestly so terrifying how fucking hot he had been when he hit the gym it’s like every day he’s getting buffer & buffer but you weren’t at all complaining, you were practically leaching on him every chance you’d got with him.
going back to your routine you’d changed your pose, to a more difficult one than the previous one.
going into a zone where your focused on relaxing so it would help you ease your body, just as you were beginning to feel more rested a ding chimed from your phone, you’d guessed it was probably seokmin telling you that he’ll be home in ten.
& of course you’d guessed right.
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seokminnie 🪽 : hello to my loveliest girlfriend:p, just telling you I’ll be there in ten better welcome me with a hug ~~
you giggled at the way would always compliment you even if it was a bit dramatic.
you : okay mins ! I’ll be waiting, love you !!
seokminnie 🪽 : love ya more, pretty princess ;)
your smile growing more when he called you that, you kinda had a thing for him calling you princess & he sure damn well knows.
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after that you’d gone back to your previous doings of exercising, loosing track of time as you’d always do when doing pilates, as seokmin always told you “your such a pilates princess, baby”.
not even hearing the door opening, you’d be too busy in your own world till you felt a gentle kiss on your cheek, turning to the side you’d see a hot sweaty seokmin, now you were not gonna lie when you said your pussy didn’t throb at his godly looking figure.
“o-oh hi seokmin! I didn’t see you there” you shyly smiled, leaving a light peck on his kissable lips.
“you and your exercises always caught up with it, princess” his big buffed arms were wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer so you both were chest to chest, sitting on the matt that you worked on.
“can’t help it when you go to the gym, & leave me all bored & alone” you mumbled back, playing with the hem of his shirt, mind getting all mushy thinking how he must’ve looked while working out.
“oh? all bored huh?, guess I can make you a little less bored can i, love?” he squeezed your hip lightly then going in for your neck peppering it with kisses then slowly but lovingly he’d move to your jaw then going back to your neck.
“s-seokmin stop” you whined but you didn’t actually want him to stop.
of course he ignored you, continuing to what he was doing.
“god these fucking leggings, you don’t know what you do to me, baby” he’d moved his hands down to your ass giving it a light squeeze then spanking it.
you were practically all wet down there, not wanting to waste anytime, you tugged your boyfriends hair then smashed your lips onto his, he gladly welcomed you deepening it even more.
with a fast motion he’d layed you on the pvc material that was on the cold floor.
moving his veiny hands down to your clit you grown more excited, fingers ghosting over your aching-wet cunt “seokie p-please” you called out really needy for his touch.
to very much your surprise, you heard a loud rip!, he had ripped both your favorite pair of leggings & panties but honestly you did not give a shit all that you wanted is to be pounded by him.
the air hit your bare dripping cunt leaving you gasping from the sudden contact.
“my sweet needy princess” he cooed lowering his head down there, hot breathed replacing with the once cold air.
rapidly you moved your hands tugging his blondish-hair, rolling his eyes he moved his slender digits down to your aroused hole, teasing your entrance then eventually pushing two fingers in & out of you.
it made you make quite lewd noises swiftly.
“always a needy slut for my fingers” he huffed out, while you just wailed from the pleasurable feeling.
while his digits were plunging in & out of you, he’d place some kisses here in there in your clit riling you up even more, “seokmini, stop t-teasing!” a pout formed on your lips.
quickening his speed, doing everything possible that could role your eyes such as parting his fingers, lightly tapping the right spots successfully, which obviously caused to close to riding your high.
pitching your loud moans, seokmin almost instantly knew you were close, he pulled out.
not to your liking you complained.
“need you to cum on this cock, princess” he placed a quick kiss on your soft-lips, before sliding his long-lengthy member into your cunt.
starting off slowly then fastening his pace in quite a rapid way, you held his shoulders for steadiness while practically echoing a series of ahh’s & moaning out your lovers name.
your wet cunt, clenching every-time he thrusted in you, with juices flowing out of the tightness of your & painting the softness of your thighs.
pussy fluttering when he rested both your legs on his wide-perfect shaped shoulders deepening his length in you, his cock was practically poking out of your tummy when he roughly hit all of your favorite spots.
you almost folding in half but you didn’t mind nor cared, all thanks to your well earned time & dedication to piltaes, you could be quite the flexible person & seokmin did not waste that advantage in fucking your brains out.
“everytime I fuck you out, your always so fuckin’ tight” he groaned out, while holding your thighs, landing kisses turned love bites on them, you bit your lips to the ungodly sight before you, seeing how he looked at your filled up cunt just made your mind go into a hazy mess.
“kyeommie!” another desperate moan left your lips as a knot formed inside of your stomach, which resulted in seokmin taunting you “oh my pretty princess is coming for kyeomie isn’t she” you on the other hand rested your elbow on your face enduring the overwhelming pleasurable moment that he was giving you.
next thing you’d know is your cock-filled hole gushing out spurts of cum, painting seokmin’s cock oh so beautifully.
shortly after that blissful moment, your well-built boyfriend returned to fucking his cock balls-deep in you but his pace getting sloppier by the minute, knowing his high was awfully near.
“m’gonna make you my little pussy-pocket, all covered with my cum” he threw his head as if in ecstasy, with the hot liquids of his seed filling you up with a little bit of it leaking out of you.
he soon enough joined laying on the floor beside you, as heavy breathes emerged from both of you, breaking the silence between you he said “guess we found a new workout to do” you giggled smacking his shoulder playfully, earning a cute pout.
as if he didn’t almost split you open a few minutes ago.
! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! [ divders by @/ cafekitsune. ] [ title creds to @/ straykidsstanforeverandever. ]
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rad-batson · 1 year ago
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Batlantern Headcanons Because I Found My New Brainrot and I Cannot Contain Myself (Platonic or Romantic, You Decide <3)
Hal is the only one who gets away with calling Bruce nicknames. Oliver tried calling Bruce “Spooky” once. He still has nightmares.
Several long-winded missions combined with Hal’s couch-surfing escapades have resulted in Hal having his own official Wayne guest room.
Alfred has smacked Hal with a dish towel several times. Reasons include: trying to wash the dishes, using a mini vac that he brought from home, and spitting gum into the garbage without wrapping it in a tissue first.
Tim gave Hal all of their streaming passwords to piss Bruce off. Hal proceeded to make his own profiles because he fears nothing, so Bruce changed all of his profile names to “Parasite.” Since then, it’s turned into an all-out war of renaming Hal’s profile every time they’re using it.
Highlights so far have included Sugar Baby, Freeloader, Ring Pop, Green Abomination, Magical Girl, Noisemaker, The Better Side Piece, and This is Your Official Eviction Notice Hal. (Bruce still hasn’t changed the passwords.)
Hal: You need to let go of your fear, Bats. Let’s do a simple breathing exercise. Bruce: I am breathing. Hal: No, like calming breaths. Follow my lead, okay? In- no, not that fast. Maybe close your eyes first. In…and out-No. No. Are you having a panic attack? Do I need to call someone?
For one mission, a few other JL members had to go undercover as couples. Bruce and Hal were the spares and paired up out of necessity. To everyone’s surprise, however, they were the most convincing duo because they “bickered like an old married couple.”
Bruce: I’m growing soft, Clark. I’m weak now. Clark: You told Hal ‘Good job.’ What’s wrong with that? Bruce: It’s unprofessional! *in the other room* Hal: I think Batman just confessed his undying love to me.
They have each other’s coffee orders memorized and regularly prepare the other’s coffee for them out of habit when they’re together.
After a while, Hal stops playfully flirting with everyone and reserves it only for Bruce because he gives the best reactions.
At a ‘Thank You, Justice League’ party hosted by Bruce Wayne, Hal slips up and flirts with Bruce in his civvies, only for Brucie Wayne to flirt back without missing a beat.
Hal had to go cool down in the bathroom for a few minutes. He was not ready for that. (Bruce is so fucking smug too. He’s been waiting FOREVER to give Hal a taste of his own medicine.)
Hal, introducing Bruce to the Lantern Corp: This is my pet bat. Careful, he bites.
Bruce, introducing Hal to new JL members: This is my partner. He’s been in training for ten years.
During an important strategy meeting, Hal waves his hand around, and Bruce just sighs. “What now, Lantern?” “Your plan of attack has like four holes in it.” “Where?” Hal gestures to the areas and suggests different strategies, and suddenly Bruce is like Does anyone else think it’s hot in here?
He lies in bed that night contemplating every single life event that’s lead up to Hal Fucking Jordan turning him on with his impeccable battle strategy.
Barry: I think Batman’s mad at me. He didn’t even react when I told him about the great rescue mission from last week. Hal: What do you mean? He was smiling the whole time. Barry: His face didn’t move an inch. Hal: You didn’t notice the lip twitch?
Batman has blackmail material on every single Justice League member, but only Hal has blackmail material on Bruce and the guts to use it. (Hal knows Bruce gets pedicures for fun. And he gets little designs on his toes too.)
Arthur: So when did you and Green Lantern start….you know. Bruce: No, I do not. What did we start? Arthur: You know what?! I think I forgot to walk my fish. Bye!
*Barry sees Hal with a hickey while they’re drinking coffee* Barry, jokingly: Did Bruce give you that? Hal: Yes, actually. How’d you know? Barry, backing away frantically: Oh okay, cool! Okay okay. Cool. Cool cool cool. Okay. Bruce, entering: What’s with him? Hal: I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to like the mug you bought me, though.
The JL has a betting pool called “BatLantern FMK” where they bet on which will happen first: will they fuck, marry, or kill each other?
Only Clark, Diana, and J’onn know that one of them happened already
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manikas-whims · 5 months ago
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“will you be able to calm down if i tie your hands together?”
— Part 1/? of turning Xavier's questionable dialogues into short fics.
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It was over.
You knew you were fucked the moment you saw a genuine flash of annoyance in Xavier’s usually serene, midnight blue eyes. In your defense, you were always messing with him, poking and prodding as you pleased because it was just so fun seeing his varied reactions and attempts to hold back his blush. And you thought it was alright to do so because he let you. He always let you.
But oh how wrong you had been.
One minute you were poking his neck with feather light touches of your finger tips, the next your wrists were bound together in front of you with an old scarf that had been lying on your coffee table for only god knows how many weeks.
Your eyes widened in realization of the situation you were in, and you fidgeted your hands in hopes of loosening the knot. “Xa–Xavier..”
The man in question tightened the knot ever so slightly in response, his lips curved up into a stern smile. “I’d warned you. Remember?”
Of course you remembered. How he had warned you that he'd tie up your hands if you don't stop with the teasing. Plenty of times in fact. You'd just never considered the possibility of him actually doing it. Quite literally at that!
You watched him scoot closer to you on the couch. Gone was the adorable bunny you loved pinching and patting. In this moment, he appeared nothing short of a lethal predator slowly prancing towards the unassuming and docile prey that you were.
You scooted away until your back hit the armrest and there was no room left to escape. You grinned sheepishly. “Is it too late for an apology?”
He scoffed, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Playing innocent now, are you?”
You nodded meekly, your cheeks heating up. “Yes, um..I'm sorry??”
Unfortunately that didn't work at all.
“Since you're so free with your hands, how about I exercise some liberty as well?” He grabbed your tied wrists with one palm and lifted them over your head, his face now leaning closer to your own. His other palm slid along your neck, fingers stroking the skin torturously slowly. “How would you feel if I did this regularly?”
Your lips parted yet no words came out. And you tried to find some semblance of calm with deep intakes of breaths. “Xavier I..”
He ignored the plea in your voice, letting his palm go higher up your jaw, running his long fingers along the plumpness of your lips. “Understand that there are consequences to your actions. Dire consequences.”
He inched his face closer and your breath hitched, eyes fluttering closed of their own accord, anticipating those dire consequences he had been forewarning you about.
To your surprise, nothing happened for a few moments. And you wondered if this was how those small animals in documentaries felt when they were toyed with before being devoured by a beast.
You felt a tugging sensation upon your cheek and let out a soft sound, your eyes shooting open to realize the tugging was a result of Xavier's fingers on your cheek.
He pinched the cheek just hard enough to make you wince before letting go and chuckled triumphantly. “Just messing with you.”
Then he smoothly scooted away and picked up his book as if the events of the last few minutes hadn't occurred at all. As if you hadn't witnessed his personality switching at all. As if the entire thing had existed merely in your fantasies.
And when your breaths finally calmed a little, you realized your wrists were still tied up. You began fidgeting your hands again, your captive fingers helplessly trying to reach for the knot. “Xavier you! At least untie my hands!”
You only received another chuckle response.
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this is very self-indulgent..Xavier Girlies look forward to more of these..✌️😆
» MASTERLIST «
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mkkk12345 · 8 months ago
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Divus Crewel x Wife Reader How they met
Sorry this took so long to write, I was once again procrastinating lol Feel free to request situations (I write slowly and I’ll be pretty busy for the next while sadly, but please do request if you would like to! I'll do anyone in twst for the most part with your usual restrictions) (side note I got the names for the dogs from the 101 Dalmatians)
1.2K words
------
Oh how Crewel would come to regret what he had done that day, he really should have seen it coming. “Hey! Professor Crewel, tell us how you met your wife!”
This had all started when Crowley had approached him with a challenge. “If you manage to raise the class average of the first years to let's say~ 80 percent? I'll give you a raise! Am I not so incredibly generous? Hahahhahaaaa” He cawed to himself as Crewel walked away absolutely done with the crow mans shenanigans
Rolling his eyes he responds “I guess there is no harm in attempting it”
As an encouragement to study harder he had told his students that if they were able to raise the class average to 80 percent by the next semester he would allow them to ask one question about his personal life. Of course all of the students had jumped at the chance to glance into the oh so mysterious and strict teachers personal life.
And that is why we are here now.
Professor Divus Crewel, now being forced to tell the oh so embarrassing story of how he had met his lovely wife.
“Well it's not the worst question you lot could have asked. I would rather not share this story but if I must I will do so…”
—----
Divus was around 17 when he first met Y/N It was a bright and sunny day, the weather was perfect and it just so happened to be a long weekend, a rare opportunity to visit home in the Queendom of Roses.
It was also a perfect day to take his beloved pet dalmatian Perdita for a nice long walk in the nearby park for some long deserved bonding time.
When Crewel was home from NRC he would often take Perdita to the park. Whether it was actual exercise or for some relaxing time outside to sketch new fashion designs, Perdita never really minded. But today was different, the minute the pair stepped out of the door the spotted dog went bolting in the direction of the park. “Hey! Slow down girl, why on earth are you in such a rush today?!” he said, trying to keep all his sketching supplies from falling to the ground.
Luckily for young Divus, the dalmatian did eventually slow down once they reached the park. “You act as if no one has been bringing you to the park since I left for school.” he said exasperated from the impromptu run.
Soon after catching his breath Divus and his companion walked over to a nearby bench so the boy could start sketching, but right as he put his sketching equipment down there was another sudden tug on the lead and once again they were off “hey! Slow down! What has gotten into you toda-” CRASH he had been cut off suddenly, crashing into another person as Perdita and what seemed to be another dalmatian were running circles around the two very effectively tying the two together.
When he finally pried his eyes away from the dogs he finally realized the full situation he was in, tied up with a very beautiful young lady. “Oh my god I'm so sorry he doesn't usually act like this, Pongo would you stop that already?”
“Don't worry it was neither of our faults really, I guess these two have taken quite the interest in one another” he said as he pulled his arm out of the leashes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck a blush forming on his face as he looked at a very interesting tree behind her.
“They've actually been like this for weeks!” she laughed as she finally met his eyes, “Oh you must be Divus! Your mother talks about you very often.” He was surprised, not only was this girl absolutely stunning but she already knew him. Although he would never admit it, he practically fell in love with her right then and there, the way she beamed with joy, the slight blush on her cheeks, her laugh even in the strangest of situations.
In an attempt to calm himself he averted his gaze again and began to untie him and his new developing crush from the entanglement of leashes they were trapped in “Oh you must have met mother while she was walking Perdita I do hope she didn't tell you anything embarrassing” a strained smirk appeared on his face, knowing how his mother liked to tell the most embarrassing stories of his childhood.
“Well I cant say she didn't say anything” she laughed softly again drawing Divus’s attention for a moment the blush on his face growing ever brighter.
Snapping out of his short trance he asked “Might I ask for your name then since you already know mine?” With blush remaining on the tips of ears he held out his hand like a gentleman, both with the intention to give her, her dogs leash back but also to lead her over to a bench so they could hopefully continue their conversation.
“Oh my apologies how rude of me, My name is Y/N nice to finally meet you.” She bashfully took both the leash and his hand, walking over to the bench.
“The pleasure is mine”
—-
“And whilst that was all happening I looked over to our dogs, only to find them looking at each other with what seemed to be a grin on their faces like they planned that all out.” Crewel sighed as he recalled how proud those little devils looked. “After quite a long conversation that ended up in me never actually starting a new sketch, we traded contact information and left the park.” he looked up at his students now regretting all his life decisions.
“And that is how I met my wife, now it seems like class is over, please leave quickly so I can question why I ever became a teacher in the first place.”
“But prof how did you ask her out?” “Yeah yeah! Who was the first one to confess!” “How did you propose????”
Frustrated crewel quickly answered “If I recall correctly you were all only given the privilege of asking one question, now if you don't stop pestering me I will be giving you even more homework.” a completely very unnoticable blush began to form on his face.
“Sorry sir!” Everyone shouted in unison, but on their way out the students did not miss the slightest hint of red that dusted their professor's cheeks as he pretended to sort through papers.
Once everyone had left and silence had fallen through the classroom a laughter could be heard coming from the Professors phone. “Awwwww darling, you retell that story so fondly~” Crewel sighed as he finally looked over at his phone
“I honestly can not believe I let you talk me into letting you listen to that.” he said with a hand firmly planted on his face covering any sign of pink that appeared.
“Consider it as repaying me for when I dropped those papers off for you. Now hurry home our two rascals of dogs are looking at me like I should thank them for getting us together.” she laughed nervously
“Yes yes honey see you soon” ending the call with a small smirk as he muttered “I should buy some more dog treats on the way back.”
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despair-posting · 4 months ago
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Rosekiller microfic | 558 words | prompt: stitches | @rosekillermicrofic
Evan sat in front of the door, his leg bouncing incessantly. He'd been sitting here for at least 10 minutes, all sorts of horrible scenarios running through his head while he waited to be let in.
All he knew was that Barty was hurt. He didn't even know what happened - how bad it was - and it was eating him up, the adrenaline running amok in his body.
Barty didn't end up in the hospital wing a lot, but not because he didn't get hurt. In fact, many a times he landed himself in dangerous situations with no regard for his own safety. The guy had no apparent self-preservation instincs and it frequently made Evan's hands sweaty just thinking about it.
No, it wasn't that. He just refused to seek proper medical help for his injuries. Just last week he broke his nose and insisted on resetting it himself, much to Evan's dismay. So him being in the hospital wing was concerning to say the least.
His heart was beating so loudly he heard nothing but his own blood rushing in his ears. Somehow, he still felt ice cold.
Finally, the door opened and Madame Pomfrey waved Evan inside. As he rounded the corner he saw Barty, sitting criss cross on the bed. If he was sitting, it couldn't be that bad, right? When Barty spotted him, his neutral face turned into his usual crooked grin. However, this time the sight of the familiar face didn't calm Evan like it usually did. His stomach dropped as he saw the raw line of stitches running from Barty's brow bone to the outer corner of his eye. As Evan stared, horrified at the fresh and rather large wound, Barty's smile softened into the kind that only Evan got to see.
"What happened, Bee?" Evan's voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was scared his volume could reopen the wound. He sat down next to him.
"Dont worry, pookie. I'm just fine."
"Barty, you have a huge gash on your face. What happened?", Evan asked, louder this time.
"Nothing dramatic. Had a slight disagreement with Mulciber," Barty shrugged.
The other just raised an eyebrow.
"There may have been a broken window involved."
"You fell out of a window?" Evan's voice became shrill with panic but Barty soothed him with a kiss.
"It's fine. I didn't fall out, he just pushed me and my head smashed the window. I don't even have a concussion."
"Figures," Evan sighed, but his expression relaxed visibly. "You and your thick head."
Barty laughed and pulled him in for another kiss.
"Actually," he breathed, still so close to Evan's mouth that their lips brushed as he talked. "I think a scar will make me even hotter. Give me like a sexy bad boy kind of vibe."
Evan laughed into the kiss. He was about to respond when Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat behind him.
"Boys, how about you take this outside. I need to clean up here."
"Right," Evan mumbled, slightly blushing and pulling Barty off the bed and towards the door by his hand.
"And Mister Crouch?"
He turned around, eyebrows raised.
"Take it easy until the stitches dissolve. No exercise or anything agitating. Understood?"
"Of course, Madame P. Absolutely not."
But the smirk he threw Evan as soon as the door closed suggested otherwise.
~ ~ ~
Notes: I am a Barty calling people pookie truther
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months ago
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The Farmer's Daughter 7
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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"It was so nice of Walter to help you with the shopping," your mother sings as she puts away a stack of cans in the pantry.
"Yeah," you agree, "it was. Especially 'cause he can carry more bags than me."
She chuckles, "he is rather strong. And big..." she's quiet as she takes out a few more things from a paper bag, "handsome."
"Ma," you gasp and look at the doorway, your father in the next room, still in the recliner.
"I don't mean... not for me," she cackles again.
"Mmm," you put the sugar in the cabinet and turn back as she stares at you, "wait... you mean for me?"
"Well..." her smile falls, "he is so helpful. And nice. And..." she shrugs and shakes her head, "I shouldn't say. Maybe I'm just being ridiculous."
"You are," you insist, "he's... a lot older. Besides, he wouldn't be interested."
"Hon," she chides, "he looks at you." She tilts her head coyly, "he watches you, you don't notice?"
"Ma," you snort again, "stop. You're going to make it awkward."
"I'm just saying. It wouldn't be entirely crazy, would it?"
"Wouldn't it?" You ask.
She's quiet again. She goes into the pantry again as you try to focus on unpacking. She's just trying to distract herself, you're sure. How can you blame her with all that's going on?
Walter is too old and he's standoffish. He's just doing your dad a favour, nothing more than that. You wouldn't blame him for wiping his hands of it all at Timothy's next catastrophe.
A sudden clatter makes you jump and has your mother scrambling out of the pantry. She grasps her chest as you hear Heather's shrill cry, "Patrick!" You rush out ahead of your mom and watch Heather hold him under his arms, placing him back in his chair.
"What's happened?" Your mom shoulders past you.
"He's alright, we were just working on our exercises," the nurse assures as she pulls back, "isn't that right, Patrick?"
Your father gurgles but doesn't speak clearly. Your mother scrunches up her fingers anxiously and hovers behind the recliner, "did he fall?"
"No, no, it was just the table," Heather points to the TV tray overturned on the other side of the chair. "He's doing very good."
"Oh, oh," your mother touches her forehead and heaves, "I was just... scared."
"Ma, why don't you lay down?" You suggest.
"I can't, I got the groceries--"
"I can get the rest," you promise, "please, I know you're not sleeping."
"Hon," she sighs.
"Ma, please, we don't need you getting sick too," you plead.
"Alright, but you come get me in an hour," she demands.
"I will."
Reluctantly she backs away, finally turning at the door. You listen to her creaky ascension and leave Heather with your father. You tremble as you set away the last of the groceries and fold up the paper bags. You tuck them beneath the sink and try to shake off your nerves.
You need a breath of fresh air. Your heady is fuzzy and your eyes glossy. You go out the back door and sit on the back steps. You shudder out a breath and hold your head. The tears trickle out before you can stop them.
The last week you've outpaced the emotions. Keeping busy with your chores, watching after your mom as she does the same for your father. It's like a snake with its own tail. You can't run anymore. Your shoulders rack as you let yourself cry, heaving into your hand as you hiccup loudly.
You just want your dad back. You want the man who used to tell you cheesy jokes about his tractor and pretend to get his finger caught in the machinery. You want everything to be like it used to be. You want to wake up from this nightmare.
You still as you run out of tears. You stay as you are, hunched over and quivering. The buzzing of insects and gentle sway of the grass hums in the air.
A sudden pounding in the grass brings your head up. Walter jogs towards you, wiping away sweat from his brow as he slows. He wears only a ribbed white take, dampened around his chest and sides. Concern ripples in his forehead as he approaches.
"Everything alright?" He puffs as he kneels before you.
"I... yeah, I'm sorry," you mop your face with your knuckles, "I was just... it's nothing."
You try to smile and your cheeks pinch and your mouth downturns. The strain in your lips tugs at your heart again and you sniff back another wave of tears, another droplet slipping free.
"Sweetheart," he rasps and surprises you as he moves to sit beside you on the step, crowding you against the short railing.
He drapes his arm around you and pulls you to him, pushing your head on his shoulder. He rocks you and hushes you. Even trapped in grief, you can't help but be stunned by his gentleness.
"I'm okay," you insist and try to draw back.
"You shouldn't hold it in," he says as he brings his hand up to pet your head, "your father's a good man--"
Before he can finish, you sob again. You shake your head and bury your face against him. You can't stop. You throw your arm around his neck and pull yourself close. He welcomes you in as his arm snakes snugger around you.
"I'm sorry," you babble, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." you chant the apology over and over as he hushes you. You can't stop. It's all spilling out and there's no way to stem the deluge.
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princessbrunette · 10 months ago
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never lose me is so rafe coded ahhh !!
💌⋆୨୧⋆⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡
the line “you better fuck me like you mean it” makes me think of rafe in the early stages of your relationship. you’re soft spoken and rather shy, so it wouldn’t occur to anyone that sex would be something you’d have on your mind as often as you do.
he’s big, strong — outright aggressive sometimes, and there was this small nagging inkling deep inside you that was hoping that this would transfer into your sex life.
he’s good in bed, don’t get it twisted— but bizarrely, pretty soft with you. you enjoy it, and rafes not satisfied unless you’re cumming hard, ankles usually resting on his shoulders as he repeatedly spears you on his cock— but you craved more. you wanted that roughness, that aggression you’d seen exercised on others.
you’d been kind of bratty all week leading up to the weekend, subtly disobeying him and giving him attitude. he wasn’t pleased, not afraid to put you in your place outside of the bedroom — but never did he make the move to fuck the attitude out of you. so you push harder.
when the two of you finally get down to fucking, you even flip yourself onto your front midway through, waving your ass practically in the air to initiate doggy style. you think that might finally get him to rough you up, but you end up laying flat with a leg cocked up, letting the dark blonde boy grind into your gummy walls and clutch softly at your tits.
“cant you fuck me like you mean it?” you hear yourself whine before your brain catches up.
“wha’?” he pants, lips plump and parted — void of any of the days sour mood.
“was so bad today, rafey. do something about it.” you bat your eyelashes, and that’s all it takes for him to be game. he straightens his back a little, breathing and licking over his lips in thought.
“thats what you want?” he asks, but it’s deadpan— like more of a statement than a question. you swallow, still craned round to look at him with wide eyes. “shit,” he chuckles maliciously before pressing his lips together, pushing your head down against the mattress and lifting your ass up you’re sure he nearly breaks your back. “got—got people breathin’ down my neck, tellin’ me i’m being too mean,” he bottoms out once more inside you, so forcefully his balls slap against your ass.“n’—’nd now i got you tellin’ me i’m not being mean enough?” he squints, pushing your head back down when you try to turn and look at him. “no.”
he pushes down on your arch and gets to work, fucking you hard and deep like you were just a fleshlight. “d’you know how much stronger i am than you, baby? how—how easy it would be for me to pin you down n’ take what i want from you? to hurt you? you actually— could do nothing about it. look at you, can’t even run from this dick.” he pants, pounding into you, watching the way you weakly try and press yourself up off the bed to draw back a little, whines and squeals leaving you.
“s’what i get for bein’ a gentlemen. my girl acting like i’m just some bitch for not punishing her. a’ight. i can give you a taste of that, don’t say i didn’t warn you.”
💌⋆୨୧⋆⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡
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xoxoladyaz · 1 year ago
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You're My Heaven, Angel (Paramedic Steve x Rockstar Eddie) - Part 2
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 (Coming Soon)
AN: I just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU to everyone who has been so kind and so supportive of Part 1! I hear you and I, too, want to create a whole series based around this idea. It's a lot of pressure following-up something that's so beloved, but I'm going to give it my best!
Robin must secretly hate Steve.
She must be the most incredible actress in the entire world. She must be the most prolific conman that’s in the business of conman-ing people or whatever. She must have made a blood oath with an elder god during a full moon that no matter how many days or weeks or months or years it took, she would one day make Steve Harrington’s life absolutely miserable. There’s no other reasonable explanation for why she insists on taking the scenic route to Eddie’s room - a scenic route which adds on two additional minutes of travel time instead of heading straight down the hallway (which maybe adds forty seconds tops). 
A route which means Steve has to bear two additional minutes of Eddie loudly introducing him to every single doctor, nurse, patient or family member that they come across on the way to his suite. Never mind that Steve’s worked with most of these doctors and nurses for years now, never mind that he actually goes to Sharla’s poker group when he has Thursdays off with the other fifty-something moms on staff (which Robin never ceases to find absolutely hilarious); no, Eddie is all smiles and arm flourishes, loudly – too loudly – proclaiming that they are now in the presence of his angel, his baby, his angel baby, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, his amor, his partner, his husband – 
“Congratulations, Steve! I didn’t know you got married!” Sue laughs as the entire production passes by. 
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie blows her a noisy kiss before clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath, and – 
“I’M GETTING MARRIED IN THE MORNING - ”
“Robin, he’s singing again!”
“I know, dingus, I can hear him.”
“DING DONG, THE BELLS ARE GONNA CHIIIIIMMMEEEEEEEE - ”
Steve turns back, risking a glare at Robin mid-step. “Remind me why we’re going the long way around?”
Robin snorts out a laugh, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Come on, Stevie, we all need the exercise.”
“ – GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIMMMMMEEEE – Stevie? Stevie,” Eddie turns and sighs at Steve and okay, Steve can’t tell if Eddie’s eyes are super dilated because of the probable head trauma or if there’s a weird reflection from the fluorescents, but his eyes are, like, legit sparkling up at him. “Steeeeeevieeeee - ”
“Yep, I’m still here.” Eddie grins, flopping to the side so that their joined hands are resting up against his head. He sighs happily, his feet wiggling under the shock blanket, and it’s not cute Steve stop thinking it’s cute – 
“Steve!” He pulls his eyes away just as the gurney comes to a stop in front of Brenda, one of the intake nurses currently on shift. Brenda’s blonde and cute and ethically non-monogamous, but Steve is more of a one and done sort of guy. That doesn’t mean they don’t flirt like crazy anytime they bump into each other, though. (Hey, he’s gotta stay in shape somehow.)
“Looking good today. Is that a new shirt?” She asks with a smirk, her eyes running over his biceps. (It’s not a new shirt, Robin just ran it through the dryer, so it shrunk. Really, he should have gotten rid of it, but it makes his biceps look amazing.)
“Nah, it’s - ”
He has a line. He has a great line. But as soon as he opens his mouth to speak it, he’s cut off by a very loud hissing sound coming from his left and – 
Yep, it’s Eddie. Eddie, who’s glaring at Brenda like they’re mortal enemies. Seriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have laser eyes like that one superhero guy because if he did, Brenda would be at risk of getting too tan.
“MINE!” Eddie snaps at the end of his hiss and then, all while still maintaining eye contact with Brenda, he yanks Steve’s hand to his mouth and licks it. And not, like, a gentle lick that you’d get from a puppy. No, Eddie licks his hand like he’s trying to give Steve a tongue bath.
(His first instinct should be to pull away, but instead all Steve can think about it Eddie giving him an actual full body tongue bath - )
“Dude!” Steve exclaims when he does finally pull his hand away. (He hears Robin snort under her breath, clearly having caught onto the fact that his brain broke at the whole licking thing and shit, now he’s thinking about it again - )
“No, MINE!” Eddie growls, and Steve barely has a chance to wipe his hand on his pants before Eddie is grabbing it back, clutching it between both of his hands like it’s his special or something. (Special, was that the word that the guy used? The little creepy guy in that one movie? He needs to text Dustin and ask.)
“Aww, I’m glad to see you’ve finally met someone!” Brenda teases.
“Uh, yeah,” Steve replies distractedly, trying (and failing) to shake one of Eddie’s hands off of his hand because now that they’re actually at his suite, he’s going to need them. “Brenda, this is - ”
“The concussion patient from Lollapalooza, Sarah clued me in,” Brenda says, snapping her gum. “Eddie, right?”
Eddie pauses from wrestling with Steve to sniff at Brenda and honestly, as someone who spent way too much time at country clubs as a child because of his parents, Eddie has the whole I’m-better-than-you-you-poor-person-wearing-Adidas expression locked down. “That’s Mister Eddie to you, Briony.”
Briony? “Who’s Briony?”
Robin kicks the gurney forward with an eye roll and suddenly they’re moving into the suite. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dingus.”
Eddie finally manages to tear his eyes away from Brenda. He perks his head up at Steve and once Steve’s face is in his line of sight his expression softens, the sparkles coming back in full force. “And it’s such a pretty head, baby.”
Such a pretty head SUCH A PRETTY HEAD – 
“I’ll show you – ow, Robin, seriously?” Steve yelps at Robin’s pinch.
“Stop being horny and help me get him on the bed.”
“I’m - ”
“Don’t listen to her baby, please, please stay horny, and lose the shirt while you’re at it!” Eddie sits up and starts frantically grasping at Steve’s sleeves. “Christ almighty, these arms, arms of heaven, arms of an angel - ” 
“Steve!” Robin barks and shit, he needs to focus. He takes advantage of the fact that Eddie let go of his hand to grab at his shirt and darts down to the other end of the gurney. They lift on a count of three, placing Eddie onto the bed and kicking the wheeled cart out of the way. (Eddie makes a loud WHEEEEEEEEE sound and then immediately goes back to demanding that Steve get naked.) Sarah, who’s followed the procession the entire time, grabs the empty cart and wheels it out of the room just as Brenda steps in.
“Well then, Eddie, let’s get started on intake,” Brenda nods, bringing out her iPad. “Are you ready to answer a few questions?”
“No.”
Robin groans and steps to the side, energetically fluffing and reorganizing Eddie’s pillows so he’s seated up. Somehow Eddie is able to lean around Robin’s wide-armed movements and fix Brenda with yet another piercing glare.
Brenda shoots Steve a look before nodding her head at Eddie.
Right.
“Hey, uh, Eddie, we really need to ask you a few questions - ”
“Hand!” Eddie snaps to look at Steve and sticks his hand towards him. He wiggles his fingers a few times before making a grabby motion. “Hand!”
It’s not cute. It’s totally not cute.
Steve sighs but walks back around from the foot of the bed and places his hand gently in Eddie’s. Eddie links their fingers and squeezes tightly. “Uh, how about now, is now okay to ask a few questions?”
Huffing, Eddie looks at their fingers for a few moments before looking upwards at Steve. Their eyes meet and he grins. “Hi angel,” he lets out a pleased sigh. “I missed you.”
Don’t say it don’t say it DON’T SAY IT - 
“I missed you too, Eds.” 
FUCK.
“Awwwww, my little schmoopers are being all schmoopy-moopy!” Robin sings in her best baby voice. (That’s it, he’s eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.)
“I’m eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.”
“Uh, like fuck you are.”
“I'd rather have you eat me,” he hears Eddie whisper and yeah, okay, that’s one he’s just going to choose to ignore for the sake of what little sanity he has left.
“Right, okay,” he hears Brenda try to get things back on track. “About those intake questions - ”
“Oh, don’t worry Nurse Brenda,” the lilting voice of Dr. Suzie Henderson floats into the room. “I can take it from here.”
Steve turns just in time to see Suzie strut into the emergency suite. She shoots Brenda a grateful nod and Brenda, with one last wink to Steve, hands her iPad off to Suzie and heads out of the room. 
“Bye Steve!”
“Bye Brenda.”
“Yeah, bye Brittany!”
Suzie has the best laugh in the world, and she lets it fly on her walk over. “Hey Steve,” Suzie grins at him as she makes her way towards the foot of Eddie’s bed. “How are things going today?”
“Oh, good,” Steve replies quickly before turning to look at Eddie. “Eddie, this is Doctor Suzie Henderson, she’s my sister-in-law.”
Eddie slowly scooches his butt backwards so he’s sitting up more. “No, she’s our sister-in-law,” he huffs before turning and smiling at Suzie. “Hey sis!” 
“And you must be Eddie! I heard you were thinking about marrying into the family.” She lets out a quick giggle at those words but then clears her throat and throws her shoulders back. “Well, if you are serious about joining our Steve in holy – or unholy – matrimony - ”
“Fuck yeah,” he hears Eddie whisper.
“ – then I’m going to need you to answer a few questions.”
“Proceed, milady.” Eddie starts gently caressing Steve’s hand with his fingers. Steve shoots a look at Robin, who makes exaggeratedly sappy faces while glancing between Steve and their intertwined fingers.
(Forget the Chunky Monkey, he’s eating all of the ice cream they have left tonight.)
“Full name?”
“Edward Anthony Munson.”
“Age?”
“Thirty-one.”
“Name of your emergency contact?”
“Oh, that would be Uncle Wayne and Chrissy! Baby, you’re going to love Wayne,” Eddie says, turning to gaze lovingly up at Steve. “And he’s going to love you! Not as much as I love you though, that’s impossible.”
(Steve’s pretty sure that Bambi eyes here is the impossible one.)
“Great, is Wayne and Chrissy’s contact information in your medical file?”
“Uh huh,” Eddie replies dreamily, still gazing at Steve. 
“Okay, speaking of your file,” Suzie taps at her iPad, “any major events in your medical history that we should know about?”
“Hmmm?” 
He can feel it on his face, he can feel his stupid grin on his stupid face, but he chooses to instead focus on helping Eddie pay attention. “She wants to know if there’s major health events in your past that we need to know about, Bambi.”
“Bambi?”
“BAMBI?!” Robin squeaks after Eddie.
Shit shit SHIT -
“I mean - ”
“Bambi,” Eddie hums, blinking rapidly as he slumps back against his pillows. Once he's settled, he tosses his free hand across his forehead and moans happily. “He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, HE LOVES MEEEEEE - ”
Don’t blush DO NOT BLUSH BODY STOP BLUSHING
“Oh my god that was amazing, I have literally never seen you this red, you look like an actual tomato. Oh my god, I have to tell Nance, like, now.”
“Right, yes, okay Bambi,” Suzie interrupts with a snicker, “like Steve said, is there anything we need to know?”
“Well, we’re in love,” Eddie sighs, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Stevie’s hand. “I think I’m still a little high but it’s only weed, I’ve definitely stopped doing cocaine since, like, five months ago. No need to worry about that, angel,” Eddie pats the top of Steve’s hand.
“Yeah, no, I definitely won’t worry about that.” (He’s definitely going to worry about that.)
“Well, thank you for your honesty, Eddie. I’m going to take a closer look at your files once we get them just to get a better picture of your overall health before we run our tests. Now, second set of questions,” Suzie loudly taps and drags a new window on her tablet open. “What is your annual income?”
(Huh. That’s weird. Steve’s doesn't think he's ever heard any of the nurses ask that question before.)
Eddie snorts out a laugh. “God, I make so much money. A fucking stupid amount of money.”
“You have something in way of a retirement plan then?”
“Doc, I could retire for, like, the next five hundred million years.”
Susie hums as she makes a note. “Do you have anything against sharing resources with your romantic partner?”
(Okay, Steve definitely hasn't heard anyone else ask these questions before.)
“Nah!” Eddie scoffs before gently tugging on Steve’s hand to get his attention. “You’ll be the hottest trophy wife, babe. Do you have an apron? I’m going to buy you an apron.”
“And what are your feelings on children?”
“Kids? I love kids. Is he good with kids? I bet he’s good with kids,” Eddie rushes out. “Fuck, you’re going to look so hot pregnant, baby.”
Robin makes a loud barfing noise which Suzie naturally ignores. “What exactly are you looking for in a relationship?”
“Suzie - ”
“Him! My angel,” Eddie slumps to the side so he’s leaning up against Steve’s hip. “I want to wrap him up in a warm towel and keep him forever and make sweet, sweet love to him under the - ”
“OKAY, next question please,” Robin loudly cuts him off.
“So what you’re saying is you’re looking for a committed relationship with Steve,” Suzie ignores Robin's dramatics. “Are you prepared for lifelong monogamy?”
“Absolutely.”
“Suz - ”
“And you’ll work every day to be deserving of Steve?”
“For the rest of my life,” Eddie proclaims and fuck, he actually sounds serious. He actually looks serious too.
Huh.
Suzie quietly observes him for a moment before her face relaxes into a warm smile. “I believe you. Now, dealbreakers. What are your opinions on outdoor weddings? Steve gets scared in churches.”
“What?!” Eddie gasps, snapping back to Steve.
“SUZ – what, no, I’m not afraid of churches - ”
“Uh yeah you are, you said that every time you visit one you get nightmares about being sacrificed on an altar,” Robin chimes in.
“Gee, thanks, Robin.”
“Baby, baby, don’t worry, I’d never let them sacrifice you,” Eddie tries to comfort Steve, but everything that’s happened in the last thirty seconds – hell, the last thirty minutes – is starting to finally sink in and yeah, okay, there’s an obscenely hot and rich and famous rockstar telling Steve that he loves him and sure, he’s partially concussed but the joke isn’t ending, he’s acting like he’s serious and they’ve only exchanged like maybe twenty words total but he’s acting like this is actually happening and what if it actually could – 
“Shoot, we’re going to have to wrap it up here, loverboy,” Robin waylays his runaway thoughts as her beeper goes off. “We’ve got a fainter with a broken nose."
“Okay, okay.” Steve shakes his head and tries to gently extract his hand from Eddie’s grasp but Eddie lurches at the feeling of Steve moving his hands and whines, digging his finger into Steve’s hand.
“Eddie, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work.”
“But – no, angel, please,” he blubbers before turning his eyes on Steve and –
Oh.
Oh no.
They’re even bigger and shinier when he’s crying.
“I’m sorry, Bambi,” he replies totally deliberately, “but I’ve got to go finish my shift. I’ll come back when I’m done, okay?”
Eddie sniffles, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Okay,” he whimpers sadly, and – look, this joke isn't really joking anymore so if Eddie's gonna go all the way, he might as well go all the way too.
He leans forward and presses a quick kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. “Be good for Suzie, okay?” As he draws back, he glances back down at Eddie. Eddie is blinking dazedly at Steve, all glassy-eyed and rosy.
“Wow,” Eddie whispers, and while the smile that appears on his face is small, it’s the warmest one Steve has seen yet. “Whatever you say, baby.”
“Right, right.” Steve nods and then pivots, making a hasty retreat out of the room.
“Later, Bambi,” Robin sings behind him, and then she’s quick on Steve’s heels. The hall’s crowded, though, so they aren’t fast enough to escape the start of Suzie and Eddie’s conversation. 
(“So, outdoor wedding? Maybe in spring?”
“Can it be in Hobbiton?”
“Uh, it better be in Hobbiton!”)
“I’m kinda surprised to see you staking your claim already, dingus,” Robin says, thrusting the portable gurney mat into Steve’s arms as they walk. “I was worried I’d have to make you.”
“I shouldn't have done that. I mean, he’s a patient, Robin!”
“Not anymore, he’s not!” Robin gently bumps his hip. “He's not your patient anymore so now we need to start planning your next move. I mean, he’s obviously going to say yes when you ask him out, but it still needs to be smooth.”
“What – I’m Steve Harrington, I’m always smooth.”
Robin is purposely silent.
“Okay, first of all, rude,” he says after giving her plenty of time to politely agree. “Second of all, even if I did decide to make a move, there actually isn’t a guarantee he’d say yes. Even if he wasn't just doing this because he's heavily concussed, I’ve hardly talked to the guy!”
“I know, he has no idea how much of a dork you are, it’s great.”
Steve offers Robin a hand as he climbs into the ambulance. (Not without shooting her a look once they're both seated, of course because again, rude.) 
Robin shrugs Steve's frown off. “Look, dingus, I know you think that you have all these great lines or whatever - ”
“Uh, I don’t think, I do have them - ”
“ – but they’re, like, obviously lines. Whatever you say to him has to be more real. He needs to know that if he says yes, he’s going to be going on a date with a guy that has the ooiest, gooiest, squishiest little itty bitty heart!” She squeezes her hands together like she’s holding Steve’s heart in her hands (which definitely isn’t concerning given the fact that she’s technically a medical professional who knows just how vulnerable that particular organ is.)
“Robs - ”
“ITTY BITTY!” She kisses the tips of her fingers. “And that’s why we gotta plan, doinkus. Edward Anthony Munson needs to be constantly conscious of the fact that he’s dating the best guy on the entire planet because you are, Steve, you are the best guy on Earth and you deserve a Prince Charming even though the Prince Charming archetype is totally outdated and part of a patriarchal initiative to establish systematic gender dynamics - ”
Well, shucks. Maybe Robin doesn’t hate him after all.
“ - doesn't exist, its still what you deserve. But more importantly than that, if Eddie does start dating you, then I have a better shot of getting him to introduce me to Chris Hemsworth.”
“Chris Hemsworth?"
“Uh, yeah.”
"Chris Hemsworth - Chris Hemsworth? Out of every famous person Eddie could hypothetically introduce you to, you'd want to meet Chris Hemsworth?"
"Well, yeah," Robin takes a brief sip of her water before shooting Steve a playful smirk. “I mean, as great as you are, I wouldn't be opposed to upgrading my emotional support himbo.”
Never mind, she’s evil incarnate.
(And she’s going to be out of Chunky Monkey in about five hours.)
Tags list: @piratefishmama @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @noxturnallyevermore @little-trash-ghost @justforthedead89 @mmmmwaffles94 @omletlove @lostonceandneverfound @sweetwaterangel @punctualhowell @sapphirecobalt-1 @kedtheduck @lunesispunk @mrs-dr-reid @clockworkballerina @stayonmars @maya-custodios-dionach @kahri1 @renaissan-vvitch @xwildangel @sweetarts116 @musical-theatre-gay @ladylokilaufeyson5 @ellietheasexylibrarian @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @designatedgrape @steddiesoulmates @starlightshadowsworld @inmoonywetrust @hellfire--cult @singmeyoursimpsong @sleepdeprivedflower @loserhotline @m-owo-n @magpiemuseum
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moonlightndaydreams · 5 months ago
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Room 143 | idol!han x fem!reader
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Read Part 1 here | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Delulu! Absolute delulu!
So we all know a skz comeback is in the works (including a tour) and I have suddenly felt all nostalgic about seeing them in Sydney in 2023.
Last year I wrote a little fic about y/n going to the concert and by chance having a night of passion with the yummy Han Jisung.
I thought it might be nice to revisit it with a rework (the original had an original female character but I’m changing it to y/n).
I’ve only changed a little bit so far and want to know if you want me to continue to share the fic?
Plus…. I thought it might be nice to revisit to celebrate 1k followers here.
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If someone had told you that you would have one night with Han Jisung, you would have laughed in their face.
[ Han heard your frustrated, pathetic cry. “Tell me what you need me to do.” He whispered huskily between kisses.
“Touch me, Han.” You breathed, and you reached down to touch his hand on your thigh. “Please.” Your voice was barely audible.
He let out a shaky breath and looked down to where your hands were resting together on your leg. Your hand slid back up his arm to grip his bicep, and he slowly inched his fingers up the inside of your leg, his hungry eyes following his hand as it disappeared under your skirt. ]
Earlier that day…
It was finally Tuesday, and you woke up in the hotel room with excitement. Tonight was the night. Stray Kids were having their Sydney concerts tonight and tomorrow night and you were going to both!
You flicked the sheet off of you but continued to lay there trying to ground yourself in the reality that you were actually going to see them in real life. They would be in the same place as you. At the same time. You squealed and flapped your arms and legs around in excitement. You were such a nerd.
Sydney had been hot this week. February was the hottest month of the year in Australia, but this week was outrageously hot, and STAYS were getting worried about the outfits they had chosen for the night. It was definitely not the weather for black pants and boots, or any of the punk/goth-like attire many had planned to wear. You’d been sweating for days, and you hoped the boys would be able to cope tonight. They had already performed two concerts in Melbourne, and that city had had a heatwave too.
You had arrived at the hotel yesterday evening, to give yourself a little bit of a mini break from your busy life, and, because you didn’t know anyone who liked Kpop, your mini break was also a solo one.
But that didn’t bother you at all. You knew from the STAY’s Facebook group that many were going to the concerts solo. You loved the idea that young people these days are happy to enjoy the things that light them up, even if no one else they know likes it.
You checked the time on your phone. 8am. You had too many hours to kill, and decided you’d go have some breakfast and then go do a workout in the hotel’s gym. That should pass some time and get a smidge of your pent up excitement out of your restless body.
Down in the restaurant you ate the standard “Continental breakfast”, and filled up on pastries and orange juice. The restaurant was practically empty. Any business folk would have already eaten (if they had even eaten at all) and be off to work, and since it wasn’t the weekend, there weren’t any families around. Empty and quiet.
Once you had enough to eat and drink you headed to the gym room.
You’re not the fittest person in the world, and you were definitely not the most confident person in a gym setting, but you did like to make sure you exercised three times a week to relieve stress.
You were thankful the gym was empty too. Good, no one would see your awkwardness. The room was moderately sized, with several treadmills and elliptical machines along the back wall, a floor area for mat work, some strength training equipment and free weights along the full length mirrored side wall. Two weights benches were parked nearby.
After warming up on an exercise bike you wandered over to the weights and picked up the 4 kg dumbbell and sat down on a bench and began a set of bicep curls.
That’s when you heard voices outside. Male voices. Getting closer to the gym.
Fuck. Don’t tell me some gym guys are going to come in here?
You could feel your skin flushing as you became flustered. You listened hard trying to find out what the voices were saying.
One voice was bellowing loudly, another laughing. But you couldn’t understand them. They were speaking a foreign language.
The gym door burst open and three men dressed in black confidently sauntered in.
They noticed you right away and nodded a polite hello to you, bowing slightly when they did.
You automatically responded with a friendly smile and a “hello, how are you.” But inside you had frozen.
It was fucking 3Racha.
A/n: I’d love to know if you want more of the story???
@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @starr-lvst @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @chuuchuu1224 @vanillacupcakefrosting @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics @palindrome969 @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @yaorzu-blog @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @everythingboutkpop @jiminssluttyminx
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