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#I hate worrying that women I get into relationships with only see me as a butch lesbian and not a man
foe-of-fate · 1 month
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If I find one more ‘lesbian’ on a dating app who is into trans men, I am going to lose it
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andivmg · 2 months
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My experience with Luke (Punz)
CW: toxic relationship, racism, dubious consent
I know in the past i said that i would no longer speak about him publicly, and when talking about my experiences with abuse and emotional mistreatment i begged to keep it anonymous but after reflecting on this for a week and seeing so many incredibly smart and strong women tell their stories. they have given me the strength to say his name.
this is really scary to talk about because of the copious levels of harassment i have received from his fans in the past so if this spreads or gets out of hand i will simply log off.
If you read my last post, i nicknamed him 1.
So aside from everything i said there, there were a lot of things i didn’t include because they would’ve made it obvious that it was him and it could potentially backfire on me so, i’m very afraid to post this. but i’m going to do it scared anyway, because it’s not fair that he gets to just go and live his life worry-free as if he didn’t practically ruin mine.
Because I already made a very lengthy post about him, i won’t include everything i said last time to avoid being redundant but if i repeat myself, please bear with me.
In our year long relationship i had to endure emotional neglect, gaslighting, verbal abuse, one instance where there was dubious consent, and much more.
Starting off at the beginning of our relationship, that’s when i was getting copious amounts of hate and harassment from his fan base (warranted or not), he decided that our relationship must be kept private. he said it was to “protect” me from his fanbase when in reality it was to protect himself. it was so he wouldn’t get all the backlash i was getting. this is funny because one of the things i got called out for was saying the B slur (derogatory term used against mexicans/latinos). I won’t get into the nuances of if i could say it or not as a puertorican because that’s discourse that does not pertain to this specific situation. But you know who definitely can’t say it? A white boy from Massachusetts. When i was getting cancelled for this and getting thousands of tweets calling me names, he decided that was the perfect time to say “I mean you are a b***** aren’t you? my little b*****.” Now, he said this completely unprompted. I was in the process of writing my apology and he just said that. I tell you this because i immediately shut him down and told him that there was no universe in which it was okay for him to say that word and especially not one where he could just call me that. While i was reprimanding him, he was smiling and laughing. he apparently found it amusing to call me a slur. regardless, he gave me a half-assed apology and said he wouldn’t do it again. and he didn’t. but this wasn’t the only time he was weirdly racist to me. this was my first time being in an interracial relationship so i was led to believe that this was normal by all the white people around me at the time. But, sometimes my spanish accent would come out and he would make fun of me and the way i pronounced some words. He also refused to visit me in Puerto Rico when i lived there or come meet my family when i really wanted him to because he “didn’t like the heat” or “it’s dangerous there isn’t it?”. Once, while we were watching season 2 of Bridgerton, he implied that the Sharma sisters were “too dark” for him to be attracted to them. This hurt me because they are brown skinned girls. I am a brown skinned girl. Then this, combined with the fact that he told me once he wasn’t attracted to me made me feel like my skin color was unattractive. These are only a few examples i can think of at the moment, but i’m sure there were more. Our relationship ended in 2022 so some of my memory is a bit hazy. But, I do remember feeling inferior to him throughout the relationship because he was white and I was not. I chalk that up to all the micro aggressions i had to deal with because i had never felt that way around white people before.
Another thing i had to endure was him constantly making me feel like he was embarrassed to be with me. Because i was cancelled, he didn’t want to associate with me too much. He did defend me on multiple occasions, I’ll give him that. But, he only did it because his name was getting dragged in the mud along with mine. Excusing my actions made him look better for being around me. In reality he didn’t really care. Because he was such a big content creator and someone i looked up to professionally, I took his advice as law. He told me to tone down my personality, to keep a low profile, to change things about myself to be more palatable to his audience. The same audience that spoke about me like “The pussy can’t be that good punz please stop defending her”. So i changed a lot of things about myself and my content to better suit what his audience liked. He made me feel like if his audience liked me, he would be public about our relationship and stop hiding it. He told me the reason why he wanted to keep our relationship a secret was because he didn’t want to get hate for it. But this wasn’t true. On my 20th birthday he went to Las Vegas for a twitch rivals event. That night i asked to facetime him to say goodnight and he refused because he was at a hotel room with his friends and he didn’t want them to know that we were together. It was as if my mere presence or the utterance of my name was a source of embarrassment for him. And he didn’t let me forget it. It wasn’t just a public thing at that point. He didn’t want people to know we were together, period. This was devastating to me because I would talk to all my friends about him. I was so proud to be with him and I was just one more problem to him. He made me feel so small and insignificant just because his fans didn’t like me.
He would berate me a lot. Not just due to getting heat online, although he did do that a lot. But in general whenever we would get into an argument or a disagreement he would always call me names like annoying or weird or stupid. He would raise his voice at me if i did something he didn’t like and call me an idiot. And that really hurt, i felt like i couldn’t bring up anything or do anything without getting insulted. If I hadn’t seen him in a few days because he was too busy streaming and i asked to hang out he would call me needy, clingy, and annoying. Granted, he might not have been wrong, but that is not something you say to someone you claim to love. He also insulted me when i was in depressive episodes. I have BPD and at the time i was not being treated properly for it. So, I was all over the place emotionally and he was what i clung to for validation, reassurance, and love. I talked to him when we first started dating about my disorder and told him that if it seemed like something he couldn’t handle that he could opt out of the relationship. I guess he didn’t think it was that bad or something idk because whenever i had really bad depressive episodes, he would tell me I was too sad to hang out with. He said that my sadness was a burden to him. Which would be fair. But, once my mother had a conversation with him about me. She told him that i am someone who needs a lot of love and caring. She said that if he wasn’t willing to put in that kind of effort into a relationship to just leave me alone. He reassured her that he would be there for me no matter what. He told my mother that he would protect me and my heart. He did not. He took all the warnings I gave him and ignored them and then made me feel like I was the problem. And even worse, he would say that i was pretending to be sad to get his attention when he would neglect for days at a time.
There were also some smaller things like the fact that he made me feel really guilty whenever he would spend money on me. Also, he would be really mean about my eating habits. For context, i used to suffer from an eating disorder. I was anorexic and had a really unhealthy relationship with food during high school and my first year of uni. This relationship began when i was recovering from my ED. For me, eating was really hard. So i had certain comfort foods that, while sometimes unhealthy, at least it was something to eat when i didn’t feel like eating anything. He knew this. Yet, whenever i would crave some of these foods he would call me fat. Constantly told me I’d gain weight from eating all that junk food. Saying that to someone with an eating disorder is crazy. Other smaller things were that whenever I would post tiktoks where i was lip syncing or just looking good he would yell at me and say i was looking for attention. Same with Instagram or Twitter whenever i would post photos where I looked hot. He never planned out a single date for us. I would beg him to get me flowers and he did maybe once but i’ll get into that in a bit. He would make fun of me in front of his friends to make himself look better. He let his friends say really degrading things about me in his presence. For example, once when i was showering, i overheard him on a discord call with George and Sapnap and i heard George say “if you don’t go in the shower and have sex with Andi, i will”. Once, when i was really struggling with my legs (for those of you who don’t know, i have arthritis and it’s very painful. at the time i wasn’t diagnosed but i was in a lot of pain) I literally could not walk. I had to beg him to take me to the ER because i didn’t know what was wrong with me. He didn’t want to take me but eventually i convinced him, and while we were there all he did was complain about how long it was taking and that he would have rather been at home streaming. Whenever I would talk about my interests that i was excited about like shows or books he would be incredibly uninterested and say that those things were stupid and he didn’t want to hear about them. I know all of these seem very silly or superficial but cumulatively it was awful.
Now for arguably the most serious thing i’m going to talk about. I want to preface this by saying i am just telling my side of what happened. You can come to your own conclusions about this.
On April 25, 2022 it was our one year anniversary, and i had made a dinner reservation for us. I expected him to plan something throughout the day for us to do. He told me he was going to spend the whole day playing Valorant so I got upset and cancelled the reservation. After a very heated argument, we calmed down and i asked him to come over. He came over about an hour later with flowers and drinks (I was 20 at the time so I couldn’t buy the drinks myself). He brought Smirnoffs and Trulys. For context, I am a lightweight. I always have been. I literally get tipsy on half a cocktail. And that day, I hadn’t eaten anything because i was in distress over our argument. So we get to talking and drinking. I blacked out after my second Smirnoff. Apparently I drank 3 but I genuinely cannot remember anything after finishing the second one. The next morning i woke up naked in my bed. I woke him up and asked him “Luke, why am I naked?” and he said “Because you didn’t want to put your clothes back on.” When I clarified to him that that was not what I meant, he got defensive and said that he didn’t realize how drunk I was. He proceeded to tell me that I initiated sex with him and that i was very enthusiastic about it. He said he didn’t know i could black out on three smirnoffs. He made fun of me for being a lightweight and continued to make light of the situation. Then he mentioned that i fell off the bed at some point in the night and that it was funny how drunk I was. I then questioned him. Because if he thought that me tripping and falling off the bed because i was so drunk was funny, how did he not know that i was too drunk? He responded by saying that i fell off the bed only after we were done. That day I broke up with him. I’m still really confused about what happened that night. I don’t remember anything and all I have to go on is what he said to me. We were in a relationship at the time and he says he didn’t know how drunk I was so I’m not sure what to call what happened. A while after that day, his friend that hmu while we were broken up and I started talking again and i confided in him about that night. He told me to be careful saying things like that because they could get me into trouble. I spoke to some of our other friends about it and they told me it was no big deal and that it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know how drunk I really was. Because I don’t remember, I have been led to believe that this is not a serious matter. You can think what you want, come to whatever conclusions you want. That is just my side of the story.
I want to add that I’m not proud of how I acted after the relationship ended. I felt really angry at all the shit he put me through and I guess a part of me wanted him to hurt even a quarter of how I did. So I started talking to his friend and got involved with him. This backfired on me because his friend ended up really hurting me too so ig i got my karma. But the thing that hurt the most is that because of what I did, some of our friends took his side in the break up. I was told that I did something terrible by getting involved with his friend that he was already insecure about and that he didn’t deserve that. These are the same friends who were witness to the dumpster fire of a relationship we had and all the things he did to me. They turned their backs on me because of this one thing I did. But stood by and watched as he treated me like garbage for over a year.
I will conclude this by saying that while this relationship has been “over and done with” for almost two years now, I carry a lot of trauma from it still. I still talk about him in therapy and have had to put in a lot of work to heal from what he did and i still cannot say that i am okay. I am very blessed to now have a patient and understanding partner who has helped me heal from that trauma and i just want to quickly thank him for that. Nobody deserves to go through what I did. While yes, it was a toxic relationship, and I had a part in that, it does not excuse all the awful things he said and did to me. This is my truth, thank you for taking the time to read it.
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joelscurls · 6 months
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I wanna show you off
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
words: 4.1k
summary: The women who live in your building aren't subtle in their hatred for you — or their affection for your boyfriend, Joel. You decide to set them straight.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, porn with plot, no outbreak, established relationship, implied age gap, horrible neighbors, general cattiness, all the ladies want Joel, alcohol consumption, fluff, explicit smut, possessive!reader, exhibitionism, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), facefucking, unprotected piv, creampie, one (1) spank, use of pet names (baby, angel, darlin', etc.), I think that's all? lmk if I missed anything!
a/n: idk what happened. I saw one too many tiktok edits set to the song agora hills by doja cat and blacked out. anyway, enjoy!
If it weren’t for your rent-controlled apartment with a perfect view of the downtown skyline, you would’ve moved out of your building by now.
Your neighbors don’t like you. You’re certain of it. You can tell by the way the ladies stick their noses up at you in the elevator and whisper to each other the second they think you’re out of earshot.
It had started, you suspect, because of your age. You’re a lot younger than all of the other residents here, your apartment left to you by your grandmother after she passed away.
The building is prime real estate, situated in the heart of one of the city’s most desirable neighborhoods. Most of the people who live here have done so for ten, twenty, even thirty years. And it seems that time has festered a sort of social hierarchy: one which places you at the very bottom.
You shouldn’t care. And you hadn’t, for a while. But their eyes have started to feel like daggers, pointed directly at you at all times, and you feel as if you can’t even enter the building without judgment.
You’re not a bad neighbor. You’re not. You’d learned through living in a dormitory in college how thin shared walls can be, and, as a result, the proper volume at which to keep your music; how you should always be cautious to not let your door slam closed on the way in; that you should never vacuum after eight pm or before eight am.
You never leave trash in the hallway, and you park your car only in your allotted spot, despite the fact that it’s the farthest away from the building.
Even so, the lack of weathering in your face makes them look at you like you’re less, like you’re a greedy little thing who has taken something she isn’t worthy of.
It’s the same way they look at you when they see you with your boyfriend, Joel, for the first time.
They leer when you walk into the foyer, hand-in-hand with an older man. He’s handsome, rugged, something out of Nicholas Sparks novel. And you’re you.
Joel thinks you’re being paranoid at first, says they couldn’t possibly hate such a sweet, friendly girl. The girl he loves so damn much. But it doesn’t take long for him to notice it too: the glares, the scoffs, the misplaced judgment — never set in his direction, only ever yours.
One Sunday afternoon, as he sits on your couch watching the Cowboys game with a sweating bottle of beer in his hand, you step out to grab your mail. You’re close to tears when you return, flinging the door open, envelopes slipping from your trembling fingers. 
He leaps up as soon as he catches sight of your face. Your expression is stuck somewhere between sadness and rage, bottom lip tucked between your teeth so firmly he worries you’ll draw blood.
“I hate them,” you sob as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. You’re wetting his shirt, the one he just bought the other day. But he won’t let you lift your head. If anything, he holds you tighter.
“Wanna tell me what happened, darlin?” he asks, leading you toward the couch. You sit down together, your body still wrapped in his, and you groan.
“It’s stupid.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. He loosens his grip on you only enough to let you turn your face. “I was getting my mail, and they were down in the lobby,” you sniff. “The woman who lives right next door – the one with the outdated perm, and the one across the hall with the yippy little dog.”
“Mhm,” Joel soothes, running his thumb gently along the tense line of your jaw. “Did they say somethin’ to you?”
You huff. “No, not to me. They didn’t see me there.”
Their hushed voices still ring in your head like a fire alarm in need of new batteries: relentless, infuriating.
Don’t know what in the world a handsome gentleman like that is doing with a little girl like her. You’re tellin’ me. What a shame. Such a young thing – she can’t possibly know how to handle a man like that. He needs a woman his own age!
“They said I’m not good for you,” you weep. “That I’m too young. That I — I c-can’t be what you need.”
“Darlin,” Joel drawls. He fishes the tv remote off of the coffee table and flicks the screen off. Drops it somewhere next to him on the cushion. The apartment is noticeably quiet now, apart from your shaky breaths and the dull drone of an idling truck engine from the street below.
“You know I love you, right?” 
You sniff again. Nod. 
“I don’t give a shit if people think you’re too young for me,” he huffs. “You’re a grown woman. You give me everything I could possibly need and then some.”
“Yeah?” you squeak. You know deep down that Joel wouldn’t stay with you if he had any reservations about any aspect of your relationship. But after months of no reprieve from stinging glares and brash insults, you feel as if you’ve been broken down, reduced to an anxious, overwrought version of yourself. 
Joel repositions himself, sprawling back on the couch and pulling you with him so that you’re laying against him. “Yeah,” he repeats, stroking your hair. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear, away from your glassy eyes. “Those ladies can get their asses in line.” 
You laugh, then — a real, genuine laugh — the kind that Joel can somehow always pull out of you, even in the most inopportune of times.
You’re so grateful for him, for his innate ability to calm you down when it feels like the world is crumbling below your feet. Grateful that he’s yours.
You lift your head. Prop yourself up by the elbow on Joel’s thigh. Wipe away the lingering wet on your cheeks with a deep, settling breath. 
“Does it stroke your ego, having a fan club of women who wanna fuck you?”
He smirks. Pulls you closer to him with a hand cradling your face. 
“Maybe a little,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours. “Does it stroke your ego, bein’ the only one who gets to fuck me?” 
And in truth, it does. You’re the only one who knows where he likes to be kissed, how he likes his cock stroked, how to make him cum embarrassingly quick with just your mouth.
You’ve learned him intimately, every inch of him.  Ruined him for any other woman.
So in a fucked up kind of way — it does.
“Yeah,” you admit. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, silently reveling in the way he immediately moans, the way he bends to you.
“These all mine?” You bring a finger to his lips, sputter on a shaky exhale when he unexpectedly parts them and sucks the digit into his mouth.
“Mhm,” he hums around you, takes your free hand in his and guides it down his body, across the expanse of his torso, the plush of his belly, pausing when you reach his crotch. 
Your pulse quickens, then, a dull throb forming at the base of your neck. You extricate your finger from his mouth with a gentle pop.
“This too,” he whispers, canting his hips up toward the flat of your palm.
He’s half-hard, his clothed bulge pleading for attention. But he pulls your hand away quickly, not letting himself get carried away at the feeling of your fingers grazing him through denim. 
Instead, he re-situates it against his chest so that you can feel his heartbeat where it hammers under skin, against flesh and bone. “This is all yours too,” he says, voice so low it reverberates in your skull. 
“All of it — all of me. Don’t gotta worry your pretty little head with anythin’ anyone else has to say about the matter. Got it?”
His words are spoken with so much conviction that you have no choice but to believe them, to let them stick in your brain like anchors in sand: deep and immovable.
Yours, yours, yours. 
And nobody else’s.
“Yeah,” you smile into the column of his neck, inhaling his scent: mostly him, but with notes of you. 
“Got it.”
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It’s two weeks later when she makes a move on him: the woman with the perm. Joel is taken aback by her boldness, with you just a few feet away, digging your key into the lock of your mailbox. 
“You must work with your hands,” she purrs, grabbing one of his wrists and examining his calloused fingers with such little integrity, his mouth actually slips open at the unabashedness of it all. 
“Uh-”
“I’m Sheila,” she hums, raking her fingers through tight, blonde curls. “And you are?”
“Joel,” he grunts noncommittally. Wrenches his arm back. He doesn’t miss the way her eyebrows twitch in offense. 
But she’s insatiable, this woman. She bounces back like a rubber band, not-so-subtly pushing her breasts together, the zip of her sweatshirt slipping down an inch and her mouth curving into a salacious grin.
You just about stop dead in your tracks when you round the corner to the lobby, junk mail in hand, and see her, her body turned towards Joel’s, chest pushed out and hip popped. She has a bedazzled tote bag full of groceries slung over her shoulder, a head of leafy greens poking out the top.
“Hi neighbor!” she smiles mockingly at you, all lipstick-stained teeth, when you sidle up to Joel. “I was just telling your friend here what nice, strong arms he has.” She’s not looking at you, eyes locked firmly on Joel’s biceps, nearly drooling at the sight of him. 
Heat spools behind your ears, red-hot.
“Not her friend,” Joel corrects before you can. “‘M her boyfriend.”
“Oh,” she says. “Boyfriend.” Her lips wrap loosely around the word, like it’s some fanciful thing. “You’re too old to be someone’s boyfriend.” 
Joel takes a step away from her, closer to you, and splays a steadying hand across your back. “Man-friend, then.” 
You laugh, not because it’s funny, but because this entire conversation is fucking awkward. 
Sheila pays you no attention.
“Well,” she sighs, overtly staring at the exposed skin of Joel’s chest, where the top two buttons of his flannel are undone, “Joel, if you’re ever lookin’ for a good meal, I’m just next door.” She flits her eyes up to his and smirks. “Know a big man like you has gotta eat.”
Your vision blurs scarlet. 
Joel is equally as infuriated. The disrespect of this woman, to so openly flirt with him in front of you. His fists ball tightly at his sides. 
“Thanks, but no thanks,” he gruffs. “Anyway, nice to meet ya ma’am-“
“Sheila,” she reminds him. 
“Sheila,” he repeats, only to appease her. He turns to you, squeezing your waist affectionately. “We should probably get goin’, right sweetheart?”
You’re still fuming, barely able to register Joel’s voice next to you through the thick haze of pure fury clouding your mind, but you manage to nod, spit out a hurried yeah.
And with that, Joel is turning on his heels, pulling you with him toward the elevators. You don’t dare look back at her, but you can feel her eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. 
Her footfall fades into the mailroom and you breathe a minuscule sigh of relief. At least she’s out of your sight.
“Please just move in with me,” Joel begs when you’re finally behind closed metal doors, the inspection plaque situated above the buttons suddenly extremely interesting as you try to focus on not thinking about setting this woman’s apartment on fire.
You’ve talked about living together a few times. It’s just — you’ve never considered it so seriously until right now. 
“I can’t let them win,” you mutter, agitated. 
You hate how they’ve made you feel, like you’re some helpless animal tucked in the corner, hiding from them. Just waiting for the next ambush. 
With the passing of each floor, your anger simmers, bubbles into a silent rage in your stomach, one which threatens to boil over at the next underestimation of Joel’s devotion to you. You need to make it known, once and for all, that he’s yours. 
Words from your grandmother play on a loop in your head, ones she repeated to you often when you were a child: if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 
And then you have a thought — a devious thought — maybe you don’t have to say anything to get your point across. Not to them, anyway.
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Your mouth is on Joel the second you’re back inside the four walls of your own apartment, slotting against his pulse point and sucking a desperate bruise there.
He’s not expecting it — why would he be? You’ve just been seething the entire elevator ride up to your floor, the entire walk down the long, winding hallway to your unit. He’d practically been able to see the steam billowing from your ears. 
So the switch-up is more than a bit dizzying, to say the least.
“Whoa, darlin’,” he pants, his large hands draping over your shoulders. “What are you-”
“Joel.” Your voice is stern; it demands his attention. “Do you trust me?” 
Your hand trails down his body languidly, in a straight line to the waistband of his jeans. And fuck, of course he trusts you — more than anyone. But this is wrong, fucked up, for you to make him feel good when you’ve been made to feel so small these past few minutes. 
Still, his cock doesn’t get the memo, twitching in his jeans as you place another open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, your fingers beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle. 
You give him no choice with the way you’re touching him, the way you’re looking at him when you pull back, all pleading eyes and parted mouth, but to resign all protest. He’ll give you the world, and if right now you want to use his body to blow off some steam, who is he to complain about it?
“Yeah baby, of course,” he breathes. “What do you need?”
You smirk at him audaciously, tongue smoothing over your teeth. “Need you to be loud,” you purr. Your voice is so innocent in juxtaposition to the words you spew. It sends a chill down the column of his spine. “Let them know who makes you feel good.” 
He nearly cums in his pants untouched, grasps at the fabric of your shirt with clumsy hands and nods. “Fuck, okay.”
His belt falls to the floor with a clang.
He lets you take control, then. Lets you mark him with your tongue and your teeth, lets you back him to the door with deft fingers working his shirt buttons open before sinking to your knees in front of him, freeing his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers.
It’s already weeping for you when you pull it out, precum beading at the tip. He’s so big, growing heavier in your hand with each passing second, and you lose yourself for a moment, hypnotized by him.
“Always so eager to please me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” Joel’s voice pulls you back to earth, soft and adoring.
“Louder,” you remind him. Plant a kiss right over top of his leaking slit.
“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. One of his hands flies to the crown of your head, anchoring himself with fingers in your hair. “Dirty fucking girl.” 
His voice fills the entranceway, confident and filthy. 
“Mmm,” you hum approvingly.
“Yeah? You want me to tell ‘em? Tell ‘em you’re making my cock drool for you? That nobody — shit-” You enclose your lips around his tip, suckling on it as your fingers wrap around the base of his length and you begin to stroke him lazily. “-that nobody has ever made me feel this good?” 
Footsteps echo down the hallway and the sound makes you reflexively pause, your hand stiling on Joel’s cock. It’s followed by the jingling of metal, the click of a key in a lock, the opening and closing of a door — all close enough that you can pinpoint the source, can tell where exactly it’s coming from. 
Sheila is home. 
Perfect.
It’s probably worrying how excited it makes you, the prospect of her hearing, of her sitting alone in her apartment, at her empty dining table, and listening to Joel fall apart at your hands. Maybe they’ve driven you to and over the edge of sanity with their words, her most of all. Regardless, you can’t help the way it makes your cunt flutter around nothing. 
You lick a slow stripe up the underside of Joel’s cock, starting just above his balls and dragging the flat of your tongue up, up, up to his tip. His breath shudders, his grip on your hair tightening, and the subtle sting at the center of your scalp gives you another idea. 
“Do you wanna fuck my face, Joel?” 
“Do I wanna — fuck — you’re gonna kill me, angel.” 
“Go ahead,” you encourage, unhinging your jaw as wide as it can go, letting your tongue droop over your bottom lip. 
Saliva pools in your waiting mouth and Joel groans at the sight of you, so malleable for him, begging to be used. 
“You sure?” 
It’s not that he doesn’t think you can handle it. He knows you can. You’ve taken him down your throat more times than he can count. Always so fucking eager to please him, you are — just one of the many reasons he feels so goddamn lucky, so infuriated that anyone would think otherwise. 
But still, he can’t help but worry that he’ll hurt you. 
You nod, eyes locked on him, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that you want this. He nods back, beginning to feed his cock into your mouth, easing it in slowly and halting when his head hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag.
You don’t pull away, don’t show any indication of displeasure. In fact, you dig your fingers into the meat of his thighs, bearing down on him as you push forward. Mascara tears stain your cheeks as you choke on him, laser-focused on relaxing your throat so that you can accommodate more of his length. 
Joel pulls back, retreating entirely before pushing in again. He slowly increases his pace, your eyes hooded, so doelike and innocent, as his cockhead bruises your larynx. 
The sounds he’s pulling from your mouth are absurdly lewd: muffled gags and frantic inhales of breath. And then there’s him, moaning wildly, not sure if he’d be able to shut up even if he needed to be quiet. Your mouth is good, too fucking good and he’s going to — fuck, he’s going to cum if you don’t stop. 
He pulls out abruptly, a string of drool and precum tethering the tip of his cock to your swollen bottom lip. You’re panting, coughing, still bracing yourself against his legs when you fucking smile up at him. 
“Christ,” he says. “Fuckin’ angel, you are. Mouth feels like goddamn heaven.” 
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But I need to cum in that perfect little cunt,” he breathes, pulling a strangled moan from the back of your rawed throat. 
He helps you up, spins you around to face the door. You brace both hands on the wood, humming as he pulls your pants down to your knees. His breath is on the back of your neck, trailing up to the shell of your ear with one whisper just for you, because he can’t help it. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” 
You shiver, responding with a tilt of your head, inviting him in with a needy little mewl. He cradles your face in one of his large hands, the other rubbing over the curve of your ass as he kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.
The hand on your ass trails lower as he deepens the kiss, two fingers pressing against your clothed seam. You’ve all but soaked through the fabric, wet cotton molding to his knuckles as he caresses them along your pussy before pulling your panties down in one swift motion.
You whine into the kiss, desperate and dripping for him. “Please,” you breathe against his lips. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”
“Know you will,” he coos, mouth parting from yours as he straightens out and lines himself up with your entrance. You arch your back, rocking onto the balls of your feet as he teases you with the tip.
His cock is so thick when it finally notches into you. It’s always so devastatingly thick, no matter how wet you are for him. The stretch stings, a jolt of warm pain coursing through your walls as he stills halfway in. 
“You okay?” he asks, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other on your hip, fingers gripping to you only tight enough to hold you in place.
“Yes, fuck — yes,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”
“I’m goin’ to baby, don’t worry,” 'he promises, pushing in another splitting inch. “Pussy’s so goddamn tight, ‘ts suckin’ me right in.”
It feels like hours pass with Joel’s cock motionless inside your aching cunt, his warm breath fanning across your back as he focuses on not cumming. You’re whimpering, begging under the weight of his body, to please just fucking move.
When he finally obliges you, pulling all the way out and then bottoming out in one deep thrust, it nearly punches the air out of your chest. You scrabble for purchase on the door, fingernails scraping against chipped paint. “F-uucckk,” you moan, eyes rolling back in your head as he sets a dizzying pace.
The sound of his balls slapping against the back of your thighs is enough to attract attention on its own, the loud smacksmacksmack going straight to your cunt. Joel growls behind you, driving into you even harder, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. 
“Oh, shit,” you cry. Your pussy inadvertently squeezes him and he curses at your back, low and deep. 
“Not going to last if you keep doin’ that,” he warns. “Cunt is too fuckin’ good. Best I’ve ever — uuuhh — had.”
He’s not just saying it for show. It’s true. You know it is, too. He’s told you before, both under the influence of your pussy and not. Waited too many goddamn years to feel like this, he’d said once.
“It’s — fuck, it’s fine Joel,” you mutter. “I’m close too, just keep going, right there.”
A door across the hall creaks open. A pair of footsteps patter across tile. 
Do you hear that?  Yeah; what is that noise?
Joel laughs darkly behind you, snaps his hips up, forcing a guttural moan out of you. 
“Think they caught us, darlin’,” he says. “Caught you takin’ my cock like you’re fuckin’ made to.”
Oh my word!
Joel is unrelenting, pounding into you despite the voices right outside your apartment, and you fear for a moment that you’ve created a monster. One of his hands leaves its place on your waist, cracks down on the center of your asscheek with a slap, the flesh recoiling under his palm and you gasp. 
The feeling travels between your legs, straight to your neglected clit. It pulsates under the hood with every pass of Joel’s cock over your g-spot, and you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge dangerously fast. 
If these people don’t leave, they’re going to hear you cum. Do you want them to hear you cum? Yeah, you think, clit jumping again at the thought, I think I fucking do.
“Joel, fuck-”
“You gonna cum?” he goads. “Yeah, can feel you squeezin’ me — you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya?”
This is vulgar!  We should file a noise complaint. C’mon.
His hand snakes around your front then, finds your throbbing bud, and with a few passes of his calloused fingertips, you’re gone, vision whiting out and all noise around you muted. 
Joel keeps you upright between him and the door, his grip on you tightening as your muscles slacken. He follows closely behind, cumming inside you with a carnal noise from the back of his throat, rope after rope of his spend filling your cunt. 
He pulls out with a grunt, immediately collapsing on the floor. Without his support, you topple over too, falling onto his lap with a satiated giggle. 
A banging comes from the other side of the wall then, shaking your kitchen cabinets a few feet away, the clanging of glassware jolting you.
Keep it down next time! I don’t need to hear that!
And then you’re laughing like teenagers, Joel pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, all tongues and teeth. 
“Think they’re really gonna make a noise complaint?” Joel asks when you finally come up for air. 
“I dunno,” you smile. “Does your offer still stand — for me to move in with you?” 
“Always,” he vows, forehead resting against yours.
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end notes: ty for reading! pls consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed <3
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httpsserene · 5 months
Note
hey can I request something that’s angsty to fluff and then smut for Oscar where reader gets a ton of hate for dating Oscar so she kind of ghosts him for a bit and they figure things out
𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰/𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏
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📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar really just wants to hear you laugh again. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. angst. fluff. happy ending. reader is exhausted physically and mentally. reader's internal monologue is not not nice. bad eating habits. bad sleeping habit. self-deprecation. don't worry she's back on her bs at the end. reader neglects herself (?) and her relationship. implied self-sabotage. people are mean. don't worry oscar is meaner. oscar piastri is a good boyfriend. emotional hurt/comfort. tenderness. intimacy. baths and pampering. crying (non-sexy). implied sex. implied bath sex. logan and lando as plot devices. no beta we die like my will to live during finals. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot w/ blurbs. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best i ever had • drake
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: sorry it took me so long, i've changed this fic like multiple times :/ hope it fulfills you request properly :))) this is not my favorite thing in the world, i feel like if i went on a smaller scale i would've enjoyed this more but what can you do. this is also not very black reader coded? idk but feel like it's lacking there. i also apologize for my inability to write an oscar fic without including lando, he's such a willing plot device though even if he's a little ooc. i also couldn't find the mental space to write smut but there's smth for you at the end. dedicated to us women in stem! i hope you have fun reading this because i didn't have fun writing it :)
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oscar is worried. you haven’t responded to his texts for a week, he hasn’t seen your face for two weeks, and he hasn’t heard your voice for three weeks. four weeks ago, you told him you wouldn’t be able to fly out to see him at the austin grand prix, like you promised. you sounded exhausted and incredibly guilty when you explained that your course load this semester is extreme, and finals are rapidly approaching. oscar understood; he won’t ask you to sacrifice your education for one of his races, there will be plenty you can come to in the future. what he doesn’t understand is how you’re still functioning. it’s your senior year of university at an american ivy league school, you're pursuing an engineering degree, and you’re also working nearly five days a week as a barista. oscar thinks the last time he’s seen you relaxed is before your fall semester started, you spent your entire summer break with him, making appearances at the only three races you’ve been to this season (silverstone, hungary, and spa). the last time he recalls seeing your smile and hearing your laugh is in august—it’s the end of october now. 
you’ve been ghosting him. oscar wants to believe that it’s unintentional, that it’s just a side effect of the amount of work and pressure on your shoulders—but he can’t accept that. if you were unintentionally missing his calls, facetimes, and texts, you’d spam respond to all of them with a voice message or paragraphs of texts before you went to bed or class. you would send him daily or weekly recap videos of how life is treating you, like you used to do. you would send him stupid videos of you messing around on your shifts during a pause of customers. you would send him thirty reels a day on instagram of brain dead shenanigans with little captions of how you reacted, or if you thought it would make him smile. you would send him fit checks every morning before you went to class, even though your outfit consists of a hoodie and sweatpants. you would send him tiktok edits of himself and tell him that he needs to stop being ‘so hot’ because you almost barked in the middle of class. you would ask him how he’s doing, you would respond to his texts the minute you could even if it's hours late, you would leave him voicemails if he doesn’t pick up, you would make an attempt to communicate. 
except, you haven’t. so, he knows that you ignoring him is intentional, and that your lifestyle right now makes it easier for you to disguise your avoidance of him as accidental. 
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you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back. 
“mate, what are you frowning for?” oscar jumps, eyes flying up from the phone screen and meeting lando’s. the brit is staring at him in confusion, the two of them are still in their race suits, tied around their waists. the sprint race ended an hour ago, and they’ve just finished celebrating oscar’s win.
“you’ve won a race, oscar—what could possibly make you sad after that?” lando says teasingly. but, the smile on his face is quick to fade as he must see oscar’s dejected mood.
the australian debates his next move for a moment, before deciding that telling lando isn’t a bad idea; they’ve been getting closer—they’re friends, oscar would say. he sighs, and hands his phone to lando, maybe he’ll tell oscar he’s worrying over nothing.
“oh,” lando says, eyes widening, “i’m sorry, mate.”
oscar brushes off lando’s words, and buries his face in his hands, “she’s pulling away from me. that was five days ago, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls. she’s only responded to my texts since then with one word answers or very dryly. she’s ghosting me.”
oscar feels lando fumbling for words, not needing to look at him to know that the older man has no idea how to go about reassuring oscar.
“look, mate, if it were me i’d go see her anyways.”
oscar huffs, “she literally said she doesn’t have time.”
“oscar,” lando stares at him in disbelief, “she hasn’t seen you in two months. i guarantee she’s probably dying to see you again, fuck whatever time she doesn’t have. she also can’t ghost you, if you see her face to face. you should go and try to fix whatever’s wrong, before you let her slip away.”
“maybe…maybe she’s just burnt out,” oscar suggests shakily, “i’ll go see her after the triple header–i’m probably just overreacting about this. she’ll be back to her usual self in time.”
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oscar is enraged. he’s pissed off at his fans for attacking you in a sick twist of ‘defending him,’ ‘protecting him’ and the supposed ‘ownership’ they think they have over him. he’s pissed off at you deciding to ghost him instead of confiding in him about the hate you receive. he’s pissed off that his flight to you has been delayed for four hours. he’s pissed off at his race in brazil, if you can even call what happened a race. he’s pissed off at the fact that you can’t make time to see him before vegas. he’s pissed off that you lied to him about picking up extra shifts at the cafe.
he stalked through your instagram the minute after he was allowed to escape debrief, hunting down your roomates accounts from where you’ve tagged them in an older post. he innocently made a group message to the two girls, figuring it would be kind and proper to inform them of his impending arrival to surprise you. and the two girls you shared an apartment with responded eagerly to his message telling him that you’ve been extremely stressed and almost depressed this semester, and that hopefully his appearance will break through to you in a way they are unable to. oscar asked them if they knew your work schedule for the week, since you never told him when you're working–and learned that you lied. you didn’t accept any extra shifts, matter of fact, you got all of your shifts covered for the next two weeks. apparently, all you have been doing is going to class, working, studying furiously, and crying. when he asks if there’s any reason besides the stress from work and school that has you crying, the girls decline to speak for you, and strongly suggest that he asks you himself when he arrives. 
oscar’s no longer pissed at you for lying to him or for ghosting him–he’s hurt, but, he already understands your motive. you don’t want to worry him, so you bottle it up and distance yourself to not make him aware of how you're struggling. he won’t let you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore, he’s going to see you and he’s going to take care of you, and then he’ll sort out the ignorant people on the internet.
when he’s at your apartment, you’ll be coming home from your last shift before your time off. and then, once he has you in his arms, he can make everything right again.
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your hands are shaking; a result from the mix of stress and exhaustion that has been plaguing you for a few weeks. it takes you four and a half attempts to unlock the front door to your apartment—this is an improvement, yesterday it took you six times. a trembling sigh of relief exits your lungs as you shut the front door, triple checking that you lock the door properly. you remove all of your outerwear and slip out of your shoes, half-heartedly making an attempt to neatly place them in the organizer you have by the door. (you fail to register how there’s only two pairs of shoes stored away; yours and a pair of shoes that look too big to be one of the girls you live with—the usual sneakers the girls wear are nowhere to be seen.) you grunt as you tenderly put on your backpack and slowly make your way into the kitchen, off-handedly murmuring a “hi,” in the direction of the living room since you can hear the tv playing, but you don’t even spare a glance to see which roommate it is—you can’t stomach anymore human interaction today.
your walk is more of a waddle; your legs and feet are sore from working nine-hour shifts five days in a row, and also from going to class four out of those five days. you place your backpack on the small island, and continue to gently meander towards the fridge. your stomach aches at the thought of food—which is unfortunate, considering you’ve only had one meal today. regardless, you will shove a sandwich down your throat, you need the energy if you’re going to study for three hours before you go to bed. 
you pause before you open the fridge, a note is stuck on the door with a magnet. your roommates are gone; the two girls have spontaneously decided to go spend the weekend with their boyfriends—you’re not going to complain, you have the apartment to yourself. a brief wave of loneliness washes over you, you were kind of looking forward to venting about the week you had to the girls in the morning, and also, couldn’t they have texted you this earlier today? who leaves old-fashioned notes on the fridge anymore? you pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat wishing them a nice weekend, and see that they did, in fact, text you that they would be gone—three days ago. and, you never responded, because you never saw it. you shrug, and send the text anyways, you’ve been incredibly busy and you’re bound to miss a few texts (especially the eighteen texts from oscar that remain unopened). 
you're just going through a little bit of a slump, and you’ve had a bad day. you accidentally messed up three orders today (out of the hundred you fulfilled, so three isn’t really terrible), your running off of four hours of sleep (you’re more energized when you sleep less, anyways), and a customer accidentally bumped into you as you were walking to bring coffee to a table, causing the hot liquid to spill and burn a little spot on the back of your hand by your thumb. well, you know it wasn’t purely accidental, as the girl giggled to the group of friends she was with after she “bumped” into you. based on the way she was wearing a mclaren hoodie, you can make several guesses as to why she did it—you’re kind of shocked that she noticed you even though you wear a mask at work (you have for about a month, too many fans have noticed who you are), her hate for a relationship that’s not hers should be studied for science. 
incidents like these have made your coworkers start to…dislike you. the decrease in tips when you’re assigned to the register causes you to be forced to be hidden behind coffee machines the entire shift, only making drinks the entire nine hours you’re there. it’s better for you though, at least you can have a physical barrier blocking the prying eyes you feel are judging you the entire time. if anything, the recent atmosphere at work made you want to put in your two weeks—but, you have bills to pay. you’re just glad you managed to find a way to get two weeks off so you can focus on school and prepare for your exams—you can’t afford to fail, it’ll cost your scholarship and then you’ll need more than the job you have right now to finish school.
the buzzing of your phone pulls you back to the present—oscar’s calling. you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, before you blink and silence the ringer. if you speak to him, you won’t be able to hide your troubles from him any longer; he reads you as easily as a kid’s picture book. he definitely doesn’t need to deal with your problems after whatever the hell happened in brazil. the noise of your phone startled you into a new thought, however. if the girls aren’t in the apartment, why the fuck is the tv on? who did you greet when you walked past the main room without a glance?
“i was calling to tell you that i’ve got takeout from the asian restaurant you like, if you’re looking for something to eat,” oscar says gently.
it’s a testament to how extremely exhausted you are: you don’t scream, you don’t fight, you don’t run—you just flinch slightly, and turn around slowly to face your boyfriend…the man you’ve been avoiding for nearly a month. at the sight of him (his fluffy hair, his soft sweater, the confused and concerned glint in his eyes) your lip starts quivering, and your eyes start watering. oscar’s gaze softens into something sweet yet empathic, and he says, “i know it’s been a while since we’ve last talked, but i didn’t think you’d cry at the sight of me.”
you burst into tears with a sob, and in a second oscar’s got you wrapped up in his arms, one hand soothingly massaging your back, while the other cradles your head on his shoulder. your borderline hyperventilating, your tears have started to soak his sweater, and you’re sniffling every two seconds to avoid getting snot on him too. oscar doesn’t try to quiet your tears, he doesn’t ask about what’s making you cry, he doesn’t even try to tell you that everything will be fine—he just holds you as you cry it out and presses kisses into your hair. eventually, the flow of tears dries and you focus on pulling in shaky breaths of air to calm down. oscar switches to holding you to his chest with one arm while he uses the free one to reach across the counter and grab a tissue. wordlessly, he wipes the wetness off your cheeks and under-eyes, he even uses another tissue to wipe your nose, clearing away the snot that managed to escape. you almost start crying again at the tender treatment and the matching look in his eyes, but you muster enough strength to keep the happy tears from falling over the waterline. 
oscar nods once, deeming his cleanup complete, and clears his throat, “i’m going to heat up the food. then, we’ll eat and you’ll tell me what’s wrong and if that has anything to do with why you’re ignoring me.”
there’s no attempt from you to keep the façade up any longer, all you do is nod and step to the side so he can grab the food from the fridge.
oscar has already cleared his plate and you’re still picking through half of yours. the two of you are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, teen wolf is playing on a low volume, and your eyes are tunneled on the screen even though oscar can see that you’re not paying attention at all. one of the characters is screaming about having to get his arm cut off (stiles, probably) and suddenly you start talking to oscar.
“it’s been a shit semester. if i wasn’t graduating in spring, i honestly think i would’ve dropped out or taken a gap-year. and, i knew what i signed up for as an engineering major, and i knew that working was only going to add more on my plate—but, it’s not like i can quit my job, i have bills to pay. so, juggling school and work is difficult, and i was managing fine. but, i guess i made the mistake of scrolling through twitter—which is truly my fault i think—and everyone on the internet was calling me a ‘terrible girlfriend’,” oscar watches you scoff out a choked laugh, “and, i obviously didn’t believe i was. in the beginning, at least. i mean, it’s like they expected me to be at every race by your side, like i’m not working my way through a hellscape of a degree. i watched every practice session, qualifying, and race—they’re literally the only hours i don’t spend studying or working. i brag about you to everybody who would listen, i missed hours of sleep just to speak to you on the phone for five minutes, i work as hard as i can so i can finish this degree early so i can be with you as early as possible, and they say that you deserve a better girlfriend.”
you pause and rub at your eyes furiously, mouth opening and closing as you take time to find the words to continue. oscar quiets the flare of anger at your distress, and stays silent, not wanting to interrupt your speech, this is the most you’ve said to him in a month.
“the thing is: i-i i let their words get to me. i think it’s because i was being kicked while i was down—or whatever the phrase is. i was already mentally exhausted, and i already believe that i’m not doing my best this year, i’m disappointing everybody who knows me, i’m a shit student—and just seeing everybody agree, even though they’re just randoms on the internet, tore me down. i even deleted all of the apps off my phone,” your voice has shifted into something desperate, “so i couldn’t see what they were saying about me anymore, but it’s like once i saw it, it never left my mind. i feel like everybody is staring at me with condescending eyes, like they all think i’m terrible. and, logically, i know that’s probably not true. but, this semester has pushed me past the point of being able to rationalize properly. so as a result, i have become a ‘terrible girlfriend’ to you; like a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.
“i avoid your calls, i leave you on delivered for days, i respond with one word, i lie to my friends and say i was up all night talking to you on the phone when i was really crying and studying at the same time, i hold back from bursting into tears in the middle of my shifts when one of your ‘fangirls’ spills their drink over me for the third time. and while doing all of this, i was hoping you’d do the hard part and just break up with me,” your voice rings out sharply and you refuse to look at your boyfriend, afraid to see the look on his face.
“because…” you whimper slightly, tongue flicking out to lick at your lips anxiously, “you do deserve a better girlfriend.”
oscar is lost for words at your conclusion; seeing you, one of the strongest women he knows break down, is a sight he never imagined. a sense of guilt builds within him, knowing that he’s added to the deprecating thoughts in your brain by postponing this intervention for weeks. you may think that he deserves someone better, but he hasn’t been the best to you either recently. if oscar was half the man you think he is, he would’ve never allowed you to avoid him in the first place. oscar stands up, collects your plate and his, and places them on the coffee table. he turns and drops to his knees in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs, and squeezes them gently to grab your attention. it takes a minute, but eventually you allow your eyes to fall to meet his, and oscar breaks further at the lack of light in your eyes.
“i think,” oscar starts quietly, “that you expect me to break up with you and leave—am i guessing correctly?”
you blink down at him and shrug, biting your lip to prevent it from quivering.
“i also think, that if i flew all this way to see you, and that if i listened to your heartbreaking recollection of how this semester and how the world has been incredibly unkind to you, and that if i sat here and still broke up you—it’s not me that deserves a better girlfriend; it’s you that deserves a better boyfriend.”
stunned, you stumble over your disagreement, but oscar steadfastly continues.
“you did the right thing by deleting your socials—and that would explain why all three hundred of the reels i’ve sent you have gone unseen,” he laughs lightly, “and even if their words took root, you prevented yourself from being able to see more of it every time you used your phone; so even if my pride is not needed, i am proud of you for doing that. i’m even more proud that you sat here and told me that you aren’t doing well, that you didn’t make an attempt to lie, and that i didn’t have to force you to tell me,” oscar says seriously, holding steady eye contact with you to make sure you're hearing him.
“i wish that you would have mentioned the hate you’re receiving as soon as it started, and that you would have told me your mental health was suffering too. you know i do everything in my power to avoid reading anything with my name in it unless it’s a credible article—so imagine my surprise, when i learned about what people were saying about you through a twitter thread logan, of all people texted me about,” you snort out a laugh at the feigned disdain in oscar’s voice when he mentions the american driver. 
“you know i have no issues embarrassing people on the internet for their incorrect claims—and i’d especially tear them to shreds for trying to drag you down. we’ve been together too long for you not to come to me about things like this, even if it’s something that mildly upsets you—i want to know, because then i can make it better, or i can at least try to. you haven’t complained to me about the grueling lifestyle once, as i worked my way up to f1; if anybody could be perfect, it would be you. so, let me try to be as perfect as you, and support you properly and thoroughly as you finish up this degree, baby.
“we’re soulmates, aren’t we?” it’s a question, but oscar states it like a fact, “and i know i can’t magically make the self-loathing disappear with one conversation, but i'll tell you that you’re the best girlfriend i’ve ever had countless times, until you believe me unquestionably.”
oscar watches your nose scrunch cutely as you sniffle, unable to stop the tears that leak from the corners of your eyes. sweetly, he catches them with his thumb before they fall. he stands up and tugs you to your feet, pulling you into a tight, warm hug. 
“i love you, kanga,” oscar coos as he kisses your forehead.
“i love you the most, roo,” you answer back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.
“i’ve bought some lavender epsom salt and an embarrassing amount of bath bombs. will you let me take care of you tonight?” oscar asks quietly.
he sees the mix of awed-disbelief and confusion as you stare up at him, like you can’t imagine why he’d want to love you tenderly tonight, and that hurts him more—the words of his ‘fans’ online have done enough damage to cause you to doubt him. maybe he can convince you to come to vegas with him so he can keep you close, but first, he needs to focus on caring for you here and now.
oscar grabs his duffle bag and smiles as you hold his hand to lead him to your room and the attached bathroom (rent is ridiculously expensive, but at least you don’t have to share a bathroom with your roommates.) oscar sends you to grab pajamas while he starts filling the tub, epsom salt already poured in. he fiddles with the temperature for a while before it’s set to the boiling-your-skin-off hot you enjoy. by the time you join him in the bathroom, he’s added the salts and soap in the water and has placed the bath bombs out for you to choose one. oscar can’t help the small smile that rises to his face at the sight of the serious furrow of your brow as you pick out your favorite from the bunch. 
oscar hums as you hand him the jade-infused bath bomb, and asks, “can i wash your hair too? or will it mess up your schedule?”
“i actually really need to wash it,” you murmur with a humorless chuckle, “i’ve been so busy that i haven’t been taking care of my hair properly.”
oscar blinks and continues non-judgmentally, “i’ll give you an extra scalp massage to make up for that—you can start getting undressed now, the water’s nearly ready.”
he turns around awkwardly, he’s seen you naked before but he feels like it would be slightly perverse to watch you while you’re clearly in a more sensitive state tonight. he fumbles with the faucet for a few seconds before turning it off, and drops the bath bomb into the water so it can start dispersing. oscar faces you again carefully making sure he avoids staring at your body and locks eyes with you, he beckons you forward with an outstretched hand and holds your hand as you submerge yourself in the water. once you’re settled comfortably, oscar grabs your hair products (he holds up any bottle he thinks you may not want to use tonight, and you give him a thumbs up or down to decide), and then kneels at your side.
he starts to roll up the sleeves of the hoodie but your hand halts his motions, the water splashing loudly at the quickness of your movement, “you’re not getting in with me?”
“uh,” oscar stutters, “i-i wasn’t planning on it. i just wanted to give you a nice bath.”
oscar pinkens as you stare at him wordlessly and when your unimpressed gaze shifts to a slight glare, he finds himself shedding his clothes and sinking in behind you at an impressive speed. 
his heart began to race as the two of you shifted into as comfortable of a position you could achieve in a too-small tub, but calmed at your pleased hum as you settled between his legs with your back resting on his chest. this may be the most romantic experience oscar has ever indulged in. sure, it’s not a candlelit dinner at an obnoxiously expensive restaurant but, it’s him detangling your hair, it’s him massaging shampoo into your crown, it’s him scratching softly along your scalp as the deep conditioner sits, it’s you playing with the water innocently, it’s you whispering every detail of your life that he’s missed out on, it’s you gently directing him through braiding your hair, and it’s him pressing kisses to your shoulder when he finishes. there isn’t a single moment where the two of you become unsettled during lapses of silence; the intimacy of his actions is loud enough to fill the gaps. oscar can’t imagine ever being this comfortable with anybody besides you, he hates that he almost allowed you to pull completely away from him. moments like these, where you allow yourself to be thoughtlessly vulnerable with him, are exactly why he’s completely enamored with you.
your body has loosened against him, muscles syrupy and lax from the effects of a toe-curling scalp massage, and oscar gently guides you to sit upright while steadying most of your weight with a single hand splayed against your abdomen. the sound of the cap of your body wash clicking open startles you into the present, and you shift around to straddle his lap. it’s amusing; he inaudibly chuckles at the sight of you struggling to complete your change of position without sending water over the edge. you make a triumphant noise when you’ve managed to turn around to face him, and oscar’s hands cradle your hips when you rest on his lap. 
“can i–”
“shouldn’t you–”
oscar bursts into laughter and you into giggles, at the interruption of each other's sentences. it’s definitely not that funny, but oscar’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your laugh–he hasn’t heard that sweet noise in what feels like forever. he motions for you to speak, ever the gentleman, and eagerly awaits for our question with a smile still stretched across his lips.
“shouldn’t you fuck me before we wash up? so we don’t have to clean up twice?”
oscar chokes on his breath, his grip on you tightening in surprise, and he babbles, “what? no-i mean, yes, i mean—wait. i didn’t do all of this just to have sex with you, you know that right? i genuinely just wanted to pamper you–”
“oscar,” you cut him off, intentionally this time around, “after the semester i’ve had, and the less than kind words i’ve heard and thoughts i’ve had describing myself–i really do appreciate the bath, i feel reminded that you love me. however, i really think that having sex would help…solidify your devotion for me.”
oscar blinks up at you, he wasn’t quite expecting you to return to your normal sassy behavior as quickly as you did. but, he is thankful that you’ve opened up to him with no further hesitation–it’s actually incredibly attractive of you, how you’ve resumed complete comfortability in expressing exactly what you want to him. at least, that’s the excuse he’s telling himself to cope with being half-hard already.
“...at least let me take you to bed, then?”
“no,” you whine down at him, your hips sneakily twitching forward, oscar moans lightly at the light grind, “too far! saves time later if we don’t have to come back to shower.”
“you’re right,” oscar hums distractedly, moving his right hand off your waist to slip between your thighs and brush along your cunt, “i’ll fuck you here as long as you let me do all of the work.”
oscar’s blood heats at the sound of your whimpering moan and he takes his other hand off your waist to grab at your chin and he pulls you down for a kiss.
oscar groans when you pause before your lips touch his, and he feels the breath of your giggle ghost over his mouth, “mmm, i’ll never say no to that—and, didn’t i agree to let you take care of me tonight?” 
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taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz
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© httpsserene2023
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cameronspecial · 3 months
Text
Let Me Fix Your Problems, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.1K
Summary: Y/N needs to vent, but Rafe needs to solve her issues.
Masterlist
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Girls know that when another girl comes to them with a problem, it is just to vent about the issue that they have. Boys. Well, boys like to go to each other for solutions and Rafe isn’t innocent of that mentality. Before Y/N, Rafe hadn’t been in a relationship, so he didn’t have a chance to learn that women just need an outlet to voice their frustration. And he is about to be taught that lesson. He waits for her at the coffee shop with a mug of coffee in his hand and a hot chocolate across from him for her. His fingers tap along the ceramic mug. He looks out the window to see if he can spot her arrival. This is the first time that they are going to be seeing each other in person after returning to campus from the holiday break and he anticipates seeing her again. He wants to see all the gifts she got this Christmas and she is excited to show him. He spots the pompom of her pastel green hat that he sent over to her for Christmas. A massive grin grows on his face and he knows the bell sounding announces her entrance. As she slides into the booth across from him, she leans over the table to kiss him on the lips. “Hey, Rafe. How are you?” she greets. 
He can see something is wrong. There is a slight furrow of her brow and a slight dip of her lip that she is trying to hide. He plays along with her pleasantries for now, “I’m good now that I get to see you, Angel. How was your Christmas?” “It was good. I got to spend time with my family. I was also pleasantly surprised with how many gifts I woke up to on Christmas morning. Some handsome fella even gave me this pretty bracelet with his initials on it. I think I might keep it and him around,” she recounts, holding out her wrist for him to see. He takes her arm into his hand, “Wow. That handsome fella must really be special if you are wearing this even though you have only been dating him for around four months.” “Yeah, I guess you can say that I love him,” she teases and kisses him. “Thank you for the gifts, Rafe. I just wish you told me we were also sending each other stuff because I hate the thought of you not getting anything from me on Christmas.”
His warm hand cups her cheek and his thumb brushes reassuringly against her skin. “Don’t worry about it, Angel. You gave me my gift before we left for break. Plus, getting that FaceTime call from you on Christmas day was my gift,” he promises. She kisses his wrist and this thumb goes to trace the slope of her lips. He can’t be in the dark about her sadness anymore. “What’s wrong, my angel? Why do you seem so sad?” he questions. She shrugs, “Nothing, I’m fine.” “Please, don’t lie to me. I can see something is wrong,” he pleads to her. She sighs, “It’s stupid, but Stacey is having a back-to-school get-together this weekend and she didn’t invite me. I guess I feel a little left out.” “That’s not very nice of her. Have you tried telling her how you feel?” he suggests. She shakes her head, “No. Do you know how embarrassing it would be to run to her like a little schoolgirl and tell her she hurt my feelings?” Rafe understands what she is saying and slides in on her side of the booth. He rests her head on his chest, vowing to help her with her problem. 
———
Rafe knocks on Stacey’s door and puts his hands behind his back. She opens the door with a slight frown at who is waiting for her. “Uh, Rafe. What are you doing here? Is everything okay with Y/N?” she worries, knowing that Rafe only cares about one person. Rafe’s head moves from side to side, “Actually, she isn’t okay. You didn’t invite her to your get-together this weekend.” Stacey nods and cracks her knuckles nervously. “I did not. Because, you see, Y/N and I aren’t really that close of friends and this party is for girls that I am really close to,” Stacey tries to explain. Her mouth shuts when she sees that is not the answer Rafe is looking for. He chuckles, “Obviously, she feels close enough to you that she feels left out by what you did.” He pauses to see if Stacey has anything to add to her defence. She doesn’t. “You know what I want you to do, correct?” Her head hinges up and down, “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry that I hurt Y/N’s feelings.” “Good, I’m glad we can come to a conclusion. I’ll see you later,” he grins and heads back home. 
———
Y/N doesn’t bother to knock. She uses his passcode to storm into his room and finds him on his bed. He sits up right at the sight of her. “Is everything okay, Angel? You didn’t tell me you were coming over,” he frets, rushing to her side. Her arms cross over each other, “You forced Stacey to invite me to her party.” “I did. You said you felt left out that you weren’t invited,” he states. He places his hands above her elbows. She lets out a low laugh, “Why would you do that?” 
“Because you had a problem and you needed help fixing it.”
“Rafe, most of the time, when I come to you with my problems, I don’t want you to fix them. I just want you to listen and agree that I am in the right.”
“Why can’t I fix your problems if I have the solution? Come on, let me fix your problems, Angel.” 
“Sometimes girls just want someone to vent to. Plus, I don’t even like Stacey so the last thing I want to do is go to her party, but now, I have to go because you made a point of getting her to invite me,” she complains. He chuckles and pulls her into a hug, “Okay, I’ll take that venting thing into account for next time. Angel, if you didn’t want to go to the party, then why did it bother you so much?” “Because I wanted to be able to turn her down,” she mumbles, burying her face into his neck. He lets out an amused breath, “I see. Well, I’m sorry that I ruined your ability to reject her. If you want, I can call you with an emergency half an hour into the party so you can leave early.” Y/N pulls back to look him in the eyes. “That is the least you can do. You are getting me sushi too,” she orders. “Sounds fair. I’ll do whatever you want, Angel.”
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife
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scarlethexelove · 4 months
Note
Hi! Request you ask? Well, what do you think about Wanda x Natasha x Reader being in a relationship but after a while Nat and Wands are slightly ignoring R, which makes her question their relationship. Wanda and Nat are doing that because R was on a long mission and they fell into a routine without R.
I Don't Even Know You Anymore
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The image is not mine.
Pairing: WandaNat x Reader, Bucky x Reader (Siblings)
Word Count: 3904
Warnings: Angsty for sure, break ups, allusion to depression, I guess suicidal tendencies, Gun shots, bloody injuries, I guess no happy ending just an open ending. I'm not sure what else.
Part 2 What About Now?
A/n: this one got out of hand. I did not expect to write almost 4k words. But I hope you enjoy. I normally don't leave it with a none happy ending but this one felt like it needed it. If anyone comes up with other warnings I should add please let me know. I hope you all enjoy.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
Your body aches as you wait for the quinjet door to open. Excited to be home after being gone for 3 months. Also being excited to see both of your girlfriends smiling faces. You weren’t able to talk to them because this mission was covert. It was just you and Clint for 6 months, but it was finally over. 
The door opens and as you look around. You're disappointed when you see no one waiting. You expected your girlfriends to be waiting for you when you got back. You haven’t been able to talk to them because the mission was covert. Only weekly check-ins with Fury were done which would be relayed to the team. This was to keep you and Clint safe. So it was sad when you returned and the two people you wanted to see the most weren’t there waiting for you.
As your demeanor deflates, Clint places a hand on your shoulder. “Maybe they had a mission or maybe Fury didn’t tell them we would be home today. Don’t worry Y/n/n.” Clint smiled reassuring you. You don’t know how he knows what you are thinking because he has always been able to read you like an open book. “Yeah, yeah you're right I’m just overthinking it.” You give him a weak smile. Something deep down is still nagging you. 
You both make your way into the compound. If your girlfriends aren’t around then you want to be able to go take a nice long hot shower and take a nap. You are exhausted and just need some small comforts. But as you make your way through the common area you are shocked and hurt to see your girlfriends sitting on the couch and the rest of the team surrounding them in chairs. 
Your brother Bucky is sitting across from them. When he notices you he jumps up and comes over and about squeezes you to death. “Hey sis!” Bucky exclaims. “Hey Buck.” You pat at his back hoping he will let you down, which thankfully he does. So that is when you turn your attention to the redhead and brunette sitting in front of you.
“Hi Nat. Hi Wands. I’ve missed you both.” You give them a gentle smile. Up until this point they really hadn’t given you a second thought. You were feeling hurt but hopefully it is just a big misunderstanding. ‘Hey Y/n.” Natasha greets you. But the fact that she used your name and not a pet name stung a bit. Wanda only gave you a gentle smile but you didn’t feel that it was genuine.    
“I-I’m going to go take a shower and take a nap if either of you would like to join me.” You say hoping that maybe the way they are treating you is just all in your head and they just are shocked to see you back. “We were just about to start a movie. So you go ahead and do that. You look pretty rough and in need of that.” Wanda finally says to you. “O-oh ok. Enjoy your movie.” You respond hurt hoping that no one notices the wavering of your voice. 
You ignore the looks you are getting from the team. They all give you a look of pity and you hate it. So you quickly make your way out of the room. You miss the look of anger on your brother's face towards the two women. He can see your hurt as you make your exit. You don’t want to stick around where you are clearly not wanted. 
Once you make your way into your shared bedroom and straight into the bathroom. You strip your grimy suit off and toss it into the hamper before turning on the water and stepping into the nice hot shower. You let the water rush over you, rinsing all the tension and hurt away. A few tears slipping down your face and into the drain. 
After standing there for a few minutes you finally look around for your soap, shampoo, and conditioner but they are all missing. Maybe you ran out before you left and forgot to replace them. It has been 6 months and that sounds like something you would do. So you use Wanda’s shampoo and conditioner and Natasha’s body wash. 
Once you feel adequately clean you step out of the shower drying off and walking into the bedroom. You see your favorite hoodie of Natasha’s and slip it on. Before climbing into bed and curling up. You see your bear that Wanda had gotten you one time when you were sick strewn almost off the bed. You grab it and wrap your arms around it. Within minutes you are passed out in the bed. Your heart is heavy and your mind confused.  
When you groggily wake up you look at the time and it is already 9pm. You slept most of the day. Your stomach roars with hunger so you listen as you crawl out of bed. You grab a pair of sweatpants and throw those on before heading out towards the kitchen. In your sleepy state you hadn’t even noticed that you were carrying around the teddy bear in your arms. You chuckle to yourself before setting it down on the counter going to make yourself some food. 
You whip up something to eat before sitting down at the counter. You slowly eat your food. The compound is quiet as you eat alone. Once you have finished eating you clean up your dishes and put them all away before making your way back towards your room to get more sleep. 
As you get to the door you are shocked when you find it locked and you can’t get in. You try and knock but get no response, but that is when you hear it. Your enhanced hearing picks up on Wanda’s moans and Natasha’s grunts. They get louder with each passing second that you stand there shocked. You feel your heart shatter in your chest. You weren’t just overthinking that they were giving you the cold shoulder. They were just waiting for you to leave them alone to lock you out. To seemingly break up with you. 
Tears start streaming down your face, a small sob escaping your lips. A door clicks open, you turn and see your brother looking at you. But all you can do is run. He tries to call after you but you run to your old room. The one that you had before you moved in with Natasha and Wanda. You slam the door shut and lock it before letting your back hit the door. You slowly sink to the floor sobbing and clutching the bear in your arms. 
That is when you notice the room. It is filled with most of your things. You had been so exhausted when you got back that you hadn’t realized that your things were missing from your shared bedroom. Your sobs become uncontrollable as you curl up in a ball in front of the door. You can hear your brother banging on the door to let him in but you don’t move. You can’t move. You're frozen in place like all those years with Hydra. You were nothing again. 
And that is where you stay locked in your room for most of the day sleeping the day away. Only coming out at night when everyone is asleep. Bucky occasionally stays up just so he can see how you are. You don’t say much but you let him be around and he is grateful for that. Sometimes you catch Steve in the early morning when he gets up for his run and you're heading to bed. He always gives you a sad smile. You can’t stand the look of pity in his eyes and you don’t want to see it from the rest of the team either. 
What you don’t notice is that Natasha and Wanda have also been watching you in the morning. They realize that they took it too far but they don’t know how to fix it. They still love you deeply and hate themselves for how they treated you. 
But Bucky sees them. You’re already in your room as he walks by the two women. He only scowls at them. He would love to do more but as much as wants to he knows that you would not forgive him. No matter what they did to you, you still care about them. 
You're startled awake when you hear FRIDAY speaking. “Miss.Barnes you are requested for a mission immediately.” “Do I have to go?” You mumble taking your pillow and covering your head. “Yes Miss.Barnes Fury has assigned you to a rescue mission. The quinjet leaves in 15 minutes.” FRIDAY informs you. “FRIDAY who else is on the mission?” You question scared that you may have to see the two women. “Mr.Barnes and Mr.Rogers will be accompanying you.” You let out a sigh of relief hearing that it will be your brother and Steve who you see as another brother. 
You get up and quickly take a shower. It has been a few days, you haven’t had the energy to bring yourself to do it. Once you are done you slip on your suit. Not completely surprised that it doesn’t exactly fit. You have lost weight due to rarely eating. Only eating enough to survive. So it hangs loose on you but you don’t have time to care. 
You make your way out to the quinjet and join the two men standing there. You have been wearing baggy clothes so the two can see just how terrible you look. But they don’t dare say anything. They love you but they know never to push you into something you don’t want to talk about or do. 
You settle into the seat as the quinjet takes off. “So does anyone want to fill me in on what is going on?” You question. “Hydra has taken a group of scientists and doctors hostage. We need to rescue them before they are forced to do something for hydra. This is a time sensitive and top priority mission.” Steve tells you before you guys go over the game plan of your roles during the mission. 
Once you land you all have to split up. It is unknown where they are being held and the place is so large that in order to do it quickly and efficiently you have to split up. You pull your gun and head off to the right side of the building. Taking out Hydra agents left and right. Keeping up communication with your brother and Steve as you clear each section you were tasked to search. 
As you make your way down the hall you appear into a room. You see about fifteen Hydra agents and also the hostages. You press on your com. “I found the hostages but also about fifteen Hydra agents.” You whisper. “Y/n wait for backup we will be there in a few minutes.” Steve informs you. “I’m going in.” You ignore Steve’s orders. “Y/n/n you need to wait for backup.” Bucky tried to keep you from doing something stupid. “I can take them.” You tell them. Both of them keep trying to convince you to wait for them. It started to frustrate you so you pulled out your coms and stepped on it. 
You rush in and you’re able to take down ten of the Hydra agents, but then they are able to start overwhelming you. The remaining five were able to overtake you. One was able to get you down on your knees. One agent kneed you in the jaw almost causing you to bite off your tongue. You have blood in your mouth before you're completely knocked down. They don’t stop the beating there. They start kicking you. Several kicks to the head have you disoriented and barely conscious. 
One rolls you on your back as you spit some blood out. You can barely see but you can make out the silhouette of a gun. Just before he is about to discharge his weapon you can hear the distinct whooshing sound of Steve’s shield. It barely misses the man as he gets a shot off but it is enough for him to miss his main target, your head. The bullet hits your shoulder making you cry out. Before Steve can get another throw off the man is able to get off three more shots. Two hitting you in the lower stomach and one in your upper stomach lower chest area. 
All you can do is whimper in pain as you’re sure that the last one hit your lung. You can hear Steve taking out the remaining agents. As he does the door slams open and you hear Bucky yell out for you and that is the last thing that you remember. He sees you in a puddle of blood barely moving as he falls down next to you. He puts his hands over your wounds trying to stop the bleeding. One of the hostages comes over to you. “I’m a doctor, I can help.” So he and Bucky get to work on stabilizing you and being able to move you. 
They are able to get you out of there with the hostages. Once everyone is on the quinjet and it has taken off the doctor does everything he can to keep you alive long enough to get you to the compound so that you get the help that is needed. On the journey back you flatlined three times but the doctor was able to get you back each time. Luckily they keep blood for each avengers blood type on the quinjets in case of emergencies. 
Once the quinjet lands the doors are quickly opened and the team of doctors waiting move in and take you straight into surgery in hopes of saving your life. Bucky and Steve make their way into the waiting room where the other avengers are waiting. Everyone has a somber look on their face. The team was notified that someone was injured badly but they weren’t informed who. As they see the two men they know that it was you who was hurt. 
Seconds later the door to the waiting room slams open. Wanda and Natasha come running through the door. They look around and spot Bucky and Steve and their hearts drop. They know it was you. You were the one who was hurt and could possibly not make it though. The team was told it was bad and that whoever was hurt may not make it through. 
“W-what happened?” Wanda stuttered out tears in her eyes. Bucky quickly moves towards them and points at them. “This is your fault. Both of you. Get the fuck out of here before I make you.” Bucky yells at them. Natasha steps in front of Wanda and gets closer to Bucky. “We aren’t leaving.” She stands her ground. “If it wasn’t for you two she would be fine. You broke her. You broke my sister. You don’t deserve to be here.” Tears prick at Bucky’s eyes. After everything that you and him had been through you don’t deserve this. “She didn’t care about her safety. She ran in there without backup because she didn’t care to live anymore. She became reckless, no care if she lived or died. If my sister dies it will be all your fault and I could never forgive you. Now get the hell out of here before I make you!” Bucky continues to yell at the women. Natasha stands stoic but Wanda pulls her to leave. Not wanting to upset the room. 
They exit the room together. Natasha is doing everything she can to keep herself together and not break down. The door swings open and Clint steps out after the two. Natasha turns to him and she sees the disappointed look in his eyes. “I-” Clink cuts her off, raising his hand. “Natasha you are my best friend but Bucky is right about some things. What you two did to her was wrong. If you wanted to end things you should have done it the right way but you two were cowards. You truly broke her and even I’m not sure I forgive you for that right now. I still love you but you need to get your shit together.” Clint says giving Natasha and Wanda a reality check on just how much they fucked up. “I still love her.” Natasha whispered tears shining in her eyes. “Well if you do then you need to work on that. God forbid she doesn’t die in there and she actually agrees to even see you let alone forgive you you have a lot of work to do. She didn’t deserve any of that and you don’t deserve her. She was too good for you. If she does by miracle make it through you fix it. Both of you.” Clint finishes before turning to head back into the waiting room. “She was too good for either of us, we didn't deserve her.” Wanda says as she cries holding back a sob. Clint stops with his hand on the door. “I hope you both have the chance to fix this.” Was the last thing he said before entering the room again. 
Bucky never let Wanda and Natasha be around you. You have been in the hospital for a month now but you still haven’t woken up. Everyone was happy you were alive but still scared. They don’t know if there is going to be any long term effects if you wake up. The two women sneak in to see you late at night when the rest of the team is asleep. Sometimes Bucky is sleeping in your room so they stay outside. It breaks their hearts to see you like this. All the tubes sticking out of you and your unmoving form in the bed. They can really see how fragile you look laying in the bed. It is obvious to them that you had lost weight and not just from being in the hospital but because of them. They vow that they will spend the rest of their lives trying to make it better and to get you back. 
Another month passes with no changes. The women have been able to spend the nights with you since Bucky was sent on a mission. He fought to stay but Fury gave him no choice. Tonight is like every other night. Both women are sitting and reading listening to the steady rhythm of your heart beat. It is comforting to them to hear that your heart is still beating that you are still here with them.  
But this night is different from the others. They are startled to hear a groan coming from the bed. Both of them drop their books, not caring as they tumble to the floor. “Detka?” Wanda questions. Your throat burns and you feel groggy. It is hard to open your eyes or even open your mouth. You hear the words but your brain is sluggish and takes a minute to register. Once your brain catches up to the words you try and respond. “N-no-not y-your d-det-detka” Your voice is hoarse and you stutter your words. “Y/n/n don’t speak.” Natasha tells you. Your eyes finally blinking open to look at the women who are staring at you with joy and concern etched into their faces. 
Natasha gets up and quickly fills a cup with water and puts a straw in it. “Drink this.” You want to refuse her but your burning throat tells you to do what you are told. She holds the straw to your lips and you hesitantly take it and sip the water. The water hurts your sore throat at first but soon soothes it. You quickly start to suck it down not realizing how thirsty you were until you had the water. “Slow down detka you will make yourself sick.” Natasha tells you. You slow down to a stop knowing that she is right. 
“S-stop ca-calling me that.” The stutter is getting better and you still croak out your words but you sound slightly better than before. The women look at you sadly but nod in understanding. “W-why are y-you here?” You ask the women. They look between each other and back to you. “We love you Y/n.” Wanda tells you. “And we just want to help and take care of you. Y/n/n you have been in a coma for 2 months.” Natasha adds. You're shocked to hear how long you had been out for but you scoff at the rest. That hurts your throat but you ignore it. 
Your body has mostly healed in the two months that you have been out. The only question was if you would ever wake up and would you still be you. No one could know but they can see that you are still there. You may have a stutter but you're alive and talking and that is all that matters at the moment. 
“W-wh-why?” There are tears in your eyes when you look at the women. Begging for the explanation that you never got the one you thought you never wanted. Natasha sighs and looks down, not able to look you in the eye. She tries to take your hand but you flinch away. “We were hurt when you were gone so long. That is no excuse for what we did. We still love you. We fell into our own routine. We never meant for it to go this far. To hurt you this much. You don’t have to forgive us, but we will do everything in our power to prove to you that we are sorry. What we did to you was wrong.” Natasha sniffles and finally looks at you with tears in her eyes. “I never deserved your love.” 
As much as you were hurt by them, her words broke your heart. “You are too good for us.” Wanda adds tears streaming down her face. “Y-you di-did. I-I-I” The stuttering is frustrating you. “L-love you.” You finish. “B-but I-I do-don’t know i-if I c-can for-forgive you.” You cry as you say the words. You love them with all your heart but they hurt you. They threw your relationship away because they were hurt. Hurt over something you can’t control. Over the job that you all share. 
Both women cry but nod. “We understand.” Wanda tells you. She reaches out for your hand and this time you let her hold it. Natasha follows suit. You three are crying even if it is hard, this was needed. As you calm down you speak again. “I-I ne-need time. Pl-please g-go.” The women understand. Each kissing your cheeks before letting go of your hands. Natasha hits the call button before they both make their exit before the team of doctors rush to your side. 
The doctors rush in and are surprised to see you awake and concerned to see you crying. The women watched from outside the door hiding from plain sight. They don’t know if they will ever have you back but they will try with all their power to get you back. They just hope they can show you how sorry they are.
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sansaorgana · 21 days
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it's a part of the loooong message sent to me by @rougegenshin with the ideas for Reader x Buck x Bucky 👀 I chose this one out of a few she sent me (thank you so much, sweetheart! 💘). I'm usually not into poly but I have a tiiiiiny experience with writing for relationships like that so I promised to give it a try 😏 it's not a full smut because I chickened out in the end 🤣
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
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Gale didn’t like to dance. You were sitting with his arm around you and watched Bucky dancing with a friend you had brought for him to meet. He was with her but his eyes lingered on you all the time.
You didn’t know why you felt this way. You loved Gale Cleven, you would die for him, in fact. And your whole life you had been thinking you were a one man’s woman. But now, when you were in an actual relationship with a man of every woman’s dreams… You were jealous to watch his best friend dancing with another woman.
Bucky was into you, it was obvious. In a way he would always stare at you with puppy eyes, tease you with his comments that were making Gale roll his eyes. There were also things that he was doing that your boyfriend did not know about – the way Bucky would stare at your chest and bite his lip, the way he would touch your hand in the dark sometimes and you allowed him. Last few months – throughout your whole relationship with Gale Cleven – Bucky’s attention was focused on you. And now he was dancing with another woman and he might have been staring at you but you hated that his hands were on her hips and that it was her being so close to him.
“Everything alright?” Gale’s deep voice made you blink a few times and look at his face. God, he was so perfect. Why couldn’t you just be loyal like other women were?
Was it possible that you were one of the harlots? All your life you had been thinking you were a good girl; nothing special, born to become some nice man’s housewife. And now you felt like a jezebel.
You cupped Gale’s face, driven by guilt.
“I’m just worried about him. He’s leaving tomorrow,” you confessed in a whisper and Gale shook his head with a chuckle. “He’s your best friend and mine, too, now. He’s everywhere we go. You can’t expect me not to care about him.”
“I’m glad that you care about him,” Gale held your wrist and caressed it before placing a soft kiss upon it. He was so innocent, he had no idea about the nature of your feelings towards his friend.
“I just wanted to explain… I know that some men would be jealous,” you took a breath deep in.
“I’m not jealous,” he assured you but he looked deep into your eyes in a way that made a knot form in your stomach.
He didn’t look angry but there was some suspicion and curiosity in his beautiful blue eyes.
“Can I dance with your girl now?” Bucky interrupted you with a smile.
You were scared to dance with him in public. You were terrified of your body language revealing a little too much. Those things were not easy to control.
“In fact, we are leaving. It’s getting late and I have to walk my girl home,” Gale answered and you sighed with relief. “You have fun, Bucky, it’s your last night,” he stood up and you followed.
Your friend walked away to buy a drink so you were left alone with the two men.
“Are you going to stay at (Y/N)’s place for the night?” Bucky lowered his voice.
“Yes,” Gale answered with a nod.
“Can I join you later?” Bucky asked and your heart started to pound in your chest as you took Gale’s hand to squeeze it. “For the one last drink,” Bucky added.
“I don’t mind,” Gale told him and then he laid his eyes on you.
“Sure, Bucky, come by!” You smiled at him and he winked at you. “Throw a stone at my window so I know it’s you.”
“See you later then,” he patted Gale’s arm. “Don’t start without me,” he teased and you felt your cheeks heating up.
Gale only shook his head with an embarrassed chuckle and he walked you out of the bar to walk you to your place.
You were renting a room in an old house and your landlady only rented it to women. In fact, she didn’t want any male visitors at all – even by day. But she left the town for a week now because of her sister’s illness. Nearly all your flatmates were taking full advantage of this temporary situation.
You went upstairs and opened the door to your room quietly, letting Gale inside and then closing the door behind you. He took his cap off and put it on the armchair before sitting down on the couch and you put some jazz music on quietly and lit a few candles. With a soft smile you sat on your boyfriend’s lap and put your arms around his neck.
“I love you,” you assured him with a thought of Bucky still in the back of your head. You wanted to shake it off.
“I love you, too, angel,” he pulled you even closer and gave you an open mouth devouring kiss that made you breathless. You tugged on his golden hair and moaned into his mouth.
“Gale,” you giggled and he raised an eyebrow at you. “Don’t start anything now, we don’t know when Bucky might come,” you whispered.
“Do you think I don’t know how you’re looking at him?” He asked, suddenly and you froze as your heart pounded in your chest.
“Wh-what are you talking about?” You stuttered out. “Gale, I love you…”
“I know you do, sweetheart,” Gale nodded. “I haven’t said anything about it.”
“Then what do you mean?” You batted your eyelashes.
“I mean that I’m so close with John that I don’t mind sharing with him,” Gale’s face was serious and your jaw dropped at his words.
“I thought you were a conservative man, Gale Cleven,” you furrowed your brow.
“I thought that, too. But I see how he’s looking at you and I see how you’re looking at him. And all I want is for both of you to be happy,” Gale’s hands started to caress your thighs and arm with his fingertips, causing the shivers go down your spine. “You’re two people I love the most and I want nothing but your happiness.”
“And what about you?” You asked.
“Well, it’s not like you’re going to leave me for him, is it?” He chuckled but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
“Oh, no! No, no, of course not!” You shook your head.
“Then your happiness won’t cost me my own,” Gale pointed out when a wild thought appeared in your mind.
“You love him, too, don’t you?” You bit on your lower lip. Gale blushed and looked around, uncomfortably avoiding your eyes. “Oh… Yes, you do,” you chuckled at him. “I don’t mind sharing you either… only if it’s with Bucky,” you assured him and caressed his cheek.
He looked up, surprised, but before he could answer, a stone hit your window softly.
You left Gale’s lap and took the key to leave your room and walk downstairs and let Bucky in.
“You’re quick,” you told him.
“I was impatient and your friend was a bore,” he shrugged his arms. You shushed him by putting a finger over your mouth and you led him upstairs.
When he walked inside your room, you locked the door behind him and put the key away. Gale was sitting on the couch with his legs spread open in a lazy manner, watching you two with a shadow of a smirk. He nodded at you and you took a deep breath in before grabbing Bucky’s face almost aggressively and joining your lips together. He was petrified out of shock at first and did not react but then he pulled you closer with a smile. His moustache tickled your upper lip and made you chuckle.
“What the hell…?” He breathed out when you broke the kiss. “Buck, you okay with that?” He turned around to look at his friend.
“It’s your last night, Major Egan. Enjoy,” Gale nodded.
“And what about you?”
“I will watch,” your boyfriend assured you but you felt bad for him. He deserved his fun, too. He was such a good man, willing to share you like that. So understanding…
“I can make you both happy,” you offered with a shy smile.
After a short moment of hesitation, they both agreed. You pushed Bucky to sit down on the couch next to Gale. Your heart was pounding as fast as never before when you realised what you were about to do. This night would never be undone, it would forever stay in your memory and it could possibly ruin everything between Gale and you – and between him and his best friend. But it could also make everything even better. And you didn’t want to regret not trying.
To the rhythm of a soft jazz song playing in the background, you began unbuttoning your dress as you stood in front of them. The movements of your fingers were slow, you let the fabric slide down your body at its own pace, revealing your bra, panties and stockings kept in place by a garter belt. You had planned tonight to be special for your boyfriend so you had made sure to doll yourself up earlier. You hadn’t expected tonight to take such a wild turn.
Your cheeks were hot to the touch but your boys’ faces were in a light shade of pink as well. Both a little shy and excited about the show you were giving them. Bucky’s mouth opened slightly and Gale was looking you up and down as if you were a snack on a plate placed in front of him.
Instead of immediately reaching up to your bra’s clasp to undo it, you allowed your hands to roam freely all around your body, caressing the curves that Gale loved to explore and kiss all over, hoping that Bucky would enjoy them, too.
“Come ‘ere, baby,” your boyfriend beckoned you over, his voice darker than usual. You walked up to him and sat astride him, letting his big, slim hands be the ones to undo the clasp of your bra.
You threw it away and Bucky gasped at the sight he had craved to see for the past few months. You gave Gale a big, loving kiss, before moving onto his friend’s lap and kissing him, too, as his hands grabbed both of your breasts to squeeze them. Bucky moaned into your mouth and you smiled.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he whispered when you broke the kiss. It turned you on how he was staring at you, like you were a piece of art, a goddess to worship.
“Better not,” you teased him, “because I need both of my Majors to come back to me.”
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MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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sxtaep · 2 years
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ANTI ROMANTIC - PJM
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you could come across as the number one hater of the male species, but not when it came to jimin.
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pairing — jimin x female reader
genre — fluff, smut
word count — 3.4k+
warnings/tags — friends2lovers, fwb!au, dom!jimin, sub!reader, teasing, reader is an anti-romantic, lots of ranting, reader confesses, making out, swearing, explicit smut, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, exhbitionism, pillow riding, dirty talk, orgasm denial, reader is very put on the spot, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys) crying, creampie +more
a/n: what to do when the nation is in mourning? write jimin smut 💀 rest up queen elizabeth though, i remember when she came to my school and shook my hand after i gave her a bouquet of flowers 😭
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You just wrapped up what you could only call the worst blind date known to mankind. The guy was smug and cocky: you could tell he probably had a thing for being better than women, and that right there was an immediate red flag for you.
Now sitting behind the wheel of your car, pure irritation evident on your face, all you could think about was how the fuck you could face Jimin after another failed blind date. That and the fact that you slept with Jimin a couple times but neither of you had the guts to really put a label on yourselves.
It was agreed your relationship with Jimin was strictly ‘no strings attached’, merely using each other as an output to deal with the stress of work. The two of you must’ve been stressed everyday since it seemed that was how often you both went at it.
“I’ve got a blind date tonight,” you tell him, entering his office to bother him as you usually did.
A blind date?
Jimin wasn’t expecting you to start dating people whilst sleeping with him on the down low. Was that how these things worked?
“You’re going on a date? Why?” He looks up from his desk, clearly confused about it since you always preached about how much you hated men and relationships.
You shrug, “I can’t keep sleeping with you for the rest of my life, eventually you’ll fall in love with someone else and want to get married and have kids.”
You weren’t wrong, Jimin did have all this planned for his future, but he never really saw some other girl with him. All these plans were made with the intention of doing them with you.
“Plus, it’s not like we’re together or anything, so I don’t see what’s stopping me.”
“Well…” he didn’t really know what to say. Does he suddenly confess now or never? If this blind date of yours was a success, he’ll never have the chance to tell you how he really felt, but you seemed really excited about it, he shouldn’t ruin that for you.
“I mean, are you sure you wanna go on a blind date? Kind of a big step for someone who hates relationships,” he says, cocking a brow at you sat opposite his desk.
You didn’t seem as concerned as he was, but then again, why did he care so much?
“Do you want me to give you hourly updates or something? Seems a bit much, Park,” you chuckle softly, failing to notice the inner conflict he was having. “Are you worried about me?”
“No, I’m just looking out for you,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes at your silly teasing. In all honesty, it felt like he was being replaced. “Whatever though, don’t come crying to me late at night when the date doesn’t go to plan.”
When you get home, you you contemplate on updating Jimin. A part of you wanted to send him a message but the other didn’t wanna hear him say ‘I told you so’ as he did many times before.
But fuck it.
you: are you at home?
jimin: yeah, why? you coming over? or you wanna meet somewhere else?
you: no, just make sure you’re home
With that final message sent, you change out of your date night clothes, opting for something more comfortable, but once you’re out of your dress, you look down at your bare body in nothing but intricate black lace (yes, you wore a set with the intention of getting laid tonight) and figured you’d keep it on.
For Jimin.
You throw on a long trench coat to cover up, shivering a little once the material is wrapped securely around your naked body. It was a risky game going out like this, but for some reason, you felt obligated to do this.
If he wanted to make you feel bad, you may as well look good whilst he did it.
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The very moment you had texted Jimin, he had just come out the shower, clean and fresh. He re-read your message a couple times, trying to figure out why you were coming over all of a sudden. Was the date so great you wanted to gush about it to him? Or did it go so terribly you were about to rant as soon as you stepped in? Or possibly, were you coming over to fuck?
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it and continued about his night, dressing loosely with a pair of sweatpants and no shirt.
Why wear so much if it was gonna come off anyway?
With that thought, three knocks were had at his door, and he had no doubt that it was you.
You were left waiting for a couple seconds, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor continuously until you were met with a very bare Jimin, forcing your incessant tapping to come to a halt and your breath to catch in your throat.
You eyed every inch of him; his perfectly sculpted v-line, the crevices of his abs, the simple, yet impacting ‘never mind’ tattoo adorning his ribs, and finally his face, which was slightly moist due to the droplets of water falling from the ends of his hair.
“Hi..” you say breathlessly, “Can I come in?”
Jimin caught you eyeing him up, but chose not to comment on it. Instead, he moves aside to let you in, “By all means.”
As you step inside, his eyes follow your form taking notice of the unusual outfit you were wearing. Heels with your legs bare, you must’ve been wearing a dress underneath the coat, but he couldn’t be certain, the damn coat was shielding away his curiosity.
“I’m guessing your date didn’t go well,” Jimin chuckles softly, closing the front door and turning to look at you, “Wanna talk about it over a drink?” Though it sounded like an open ended question, he didn’t wait for you to respond, already making his way into the kitchen to pull out two wine glasses.
“Listen…” you start, your voice low, yet loud enough for Jimin to hear. You’re stuck standing by the door, watching, him set the two glasses down on the marble counter. “I.. am a good girl,” you begin, trying not to sound stupid. “In school, I always followed the rules to the point where a lot of people actually hated me for it.”
The confusion on Jimin’s face was clear as day, and you knew he was about to interrupt you, but you continue to talk, raising your hand up towards him, “Let me finish,” you exhale, “I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 17, probably because I hated the idea of it.”
What the hell were you talking about?
Jimin cocks a brow, leaving his position behind the counter to approach you, “Did I do something wrong?”
The man never hated you, nor did he think you were crazy to have such outlandish opinions on relationships (he understood where you were coming from) and sometimes it was annoying, but not annoying enough to push you away from him. At the end of the day, you were close friend to him.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassure him, stopping Jimin in his tracks. “I shouldn’t have gone on that blind date. It went horribly.”
There’s a moment of silence between the two of you, and Jimin remained as he was in case you were still speaking.
“This failed blind date, along with everything we’ve done together, made me realise I’m only ever genuinely happy when I’m with you. It’s pretty fun not having to fuck my pillow every night,” you say, your cheeks growing beet red at the confession. “And I think it’s safe to say that I don’t not want be in a relationship..”
Your eyes meet his and for the first time tonight, Jimin was speechless. He hadn’t said a word and at this moment, you were glad. “So…” your hands travel down to the belt tied around your waist, pulling on one end to loosen the knot and have the coat comfortably slip free down your shoulders, revealing the black strap of you bra draped over your shoulders.
Jimin knew what was coming. He was bracing himself for what you were about to do.
The trench coat finally hit the floor, pooling around your feet and his breath hitches. He raked his eyes up and down your body, drinking in the sight of you. Flawless skin, perfect curves and a face so radiant, you were the only thing glowing under the dim light of his apartment.
“Woah,” is all he says, having no shame displaying the grin on his face. “You sure know how to flatter a man, Y/N,” Jimin shakes his head, as if disapproving your outfit, but really, the man was losing it inside.
He’s quick on his feet, steadily approaching your form and stopping in front of you, his eyes solemnly kept on you, “I’m glad you finally came to your senses,” he says, reaching his hand up to cup your cheek, gently smoothing his thumb across your skin. “How about we do something a little more fitting for your attire tonight?”
You didn’t bother processing his words, wasting no time in crashing your lips against his in an aggressive kiss, Jimin undoubtedly reciprocating and automatically wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest.
His embrace wasn’t long lasting, hands moving down the small of your back to briefly graze the curve of your ass before settling behind your upper thighs, hoisting you up, “Jump,” Jimin mumbles against your lips, eliciting a short hum from you and you immediately oblige, wrapping your legs around your waist and he held onto you securely.
Not once did either of you break the kiss as he carried you towards his bedroom, but once in his bedroom, you pulled away to catch your breath. “I bet you do this with every girl you hook up with, huh?”
“Just you, sweetheart,” he smirks, responding with zero hesitation, gently laying you lie body on his mattress so he could cherish the sight of you.
A gorgeous, stunning, goddess.
“I bet your pillow’s gonna get bored now, huh?”
Your jaw drops, cheeks turning a slight hue of red from embarrassment. Maybe you shouldn’t have told him about that, now he’d be able to use it against you at any given opportunity. You prop yourself up on your elbows, tilting your head at the partly-naked man before you, “I bet my pillow can make me feel a lot better than you can.”
“You wanna test that theory out?” Jimin challenges, leaning over you to grab one of the many pillows on his bed, leaving it beside you. “Can your pillow make you cry? Can your pillow fuck you as good as I can?” He continues to list out all the things you both done together over the last few months, knowing full well the answer to all his questions were no.
He shifts his position to climb onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard with his legs spread far and wide to show you the tent straining against his sweatpants. “If it can, then show me,” he gestures towards the pillow and your almost at a loss for words.
He was gonna watch you get off, and you felt so belittled liking the idea of it.
You grab ahold of the pillow, fluffing it up a bit for your own comfort. “Fine, but you’re not allowed to touch me and you have to sit on the other side of your room,” you instruct him, pointing to the chair tucked under his desk.
Gosh, you were so bossy, but Jimin would do anything to make a princess happy.
“And you’re not allowed to come,” he warns you, pushing himself off the bed and towards his desk, pulling the chair out to face you before taking a seat, adjusting the boner in his pants before gesturing his chin towards you, encouraging you to make a start. “Go ahead, I’ll tell you when to stop.”
You take his previous position and lean back against the headboard, making yourself comfortable before spreading your legs before him, giving him the perfect view of your soaked panties firmly pressing against you. You took your time, hovering your fingers over the damp material and briskly brushing over your clothed clit, triggering your body to shudder.
Knowing that wasn’t enough for you, you slipped your hand past the band of your panties, the pad of your fingers reaching to rub slow, drawn out circles over your sensitive clit. You didn’t need to do much, the mere sight of Jimin turning you on beyond measures.
Jimin was sat far across from you, his chin slightly raised as he watched you and his hand unknowingly palming the erection trapped between his legs and groaning. It hurt so bad he just pushed his sweatpants halfway down his thighs along with his boxers to free the painful erection. He couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes off you as his fingers simultaneously wrapped around his hardening cock.
“Don’t work yourself up too much, you still have that pillow to attend to,” Jimin’s voice echoed through the room, almost missing your attention. You were getting carried away with your own fingers, you completely forgot about the pillow.
You groan and reach out for the pillow, now sitting up on your knees, and spreading your legs apart to make room for the pillow. The pillow was thick enough for you to have a firm hold on it, and as soon as you sunk down on it, the knock on effect of the material brushing over your heat left you whimpering.
Your reactions had Jimin squeezing on the base of his cock, revelling over how sensitive you were.
He loved it.
All you had to do was imagine the pillow was Jimin and you’d be good to go. It seemed effective once you started rocking your hips back and forth against the pillow, failing to contain your short, but sweet whimpers. Your hips would slow down every now and again, taking long, deep strokes to delay your orgasm as much as possible but it didn’t seem to work.
You looked up at Jimin who’s position was now slouched on the chair, steadily pumping his cock between his fists as he watched you.
“Don’t look at me..” you mumble shyly, shaking your head and looking down at the pillow that had already picked up your arousal, darkening the material slightly.
“Why not?” he chuckles breathlessly, repeatedly swiping his thumb over the head of his cock and smearing any and all the precum down the base. His eyes came to a shut in pure bliss as he picked up the pace of his wrist, his groans becoming low moans. All he could think about were your perfect pouty lips wrapping around his cock and sucking him off just right.
“Take the bra off, lemme’ see your tits.”
You don’t hesitate to oblige, flipping your hair to the side and reaching your hands back to unclasp your bra and let the straps fall seamlessly down your shoulders. Your nipples had hardened within seconds being exposed but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough, too busy rutting against the pillow.
“I can’t believe you let me go on a blind date,” you seethe, projecting your anger towards him and the pace of your hips, now struggling to keep yourself stable.
“We weren’t exactly together, I couldn’t stop you,” Jimin tries to reason with you, aggravation evident in his tone as he mercilessly fucked his fist. He was close, and from the way your body was jerking, he knew you were close too.
It took the man everything and more to still his hand along his member and stand up from his chair, walking over to you with a sly smirk on his face.
“On your stomach, raise your hips. And tell me, what do you think about when you fuck your pillow?”
You whine and force yourself to pull the pillow from between your legs, leaving it elsewhere as you positioned yourself like he’d asked.
“I think about you..” you whisper, “I think about your tongue— your hands all over me.” You hesitate to say more, but you knew that if you really wanted that orgasm, you had to spill. “I think about milking your cock every night, even before we started fucking,” you cry, pushing yourself back against him. The lack of attention to your weeping cunt was playing up with you, “And I love when you tease me— God, I fucking love it.”
Jimin grins, grabbing ahold of your hips and firmly rutting against you from behind, “Mhm, I’ll give you all that and more,” he smiles contently, positioning the head of his cock at your slick hole, teasing you a little before finally pushing into you and eliciting a low ‘fuck’ from his end.
The air is knocked out of lungs much quicker than you expected, the stretch catching you off guard, even though it wasn’t the first time you’d taken him like this; a clear indication you were yet to get used to his size.
“Been thinking about keeping you all to myself,” he admits, short of breath as he looked down between where your body’s met, “Just had to take my time with you. huh?”
Jimin’s words were going through one ear and out the other. All you could hear was his low grunts and your strained moans. “Oh my God— Jimin,” you force out, your half lidded eyes rolling to the back of your head as your poor cunt took him whole.
“No other man can make you feel as good as I can,” he retorts cockily, digging his nails into your hips once he feels your walls greedily squeeze around him. The action makes the pace of his hips falter, but he’s quick to get back on top of it, “Make sure you fucking remember that.”
You nod diligently. You already knew that his words were the truth and the way he was putting it into practice was taking over your being, almost brainwashing you.
You do him the favour of arching your back a little more, giving Jimin all the more room to hold onto you, but it seemed like he had other plans, using this opportunity to pull out and forcing you turn around to lie on your back. You couldn’t say anything, his arms hooking under your knees to push them up towards your chest before swiftly pushing into you again, thrusting at a pace so ungodly, you were sure you couldn’t handle it.
“Too much, Jimin!” you gasp, turning your head away from him to shield your embarrassing state.
He was quick to notice and grabbed ahold of your cheeks, forcing you to look back at him and he continued to fuck you at his torturous pace, rolling his heels deeper into you, “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”
You couldn’t imagine what you looked like right now, but Jimin could safely say you looked like every man’s wet dream. Your fucked out state had his cock twitching between your soft walls, and you couldn’t help but clench around him, giving him that final push to reach his high.
“I’m close..” you breathe out, shaking your head in a bid to ease yourself of your coming orgasm, but Jimin was adamant on having your full, undivided attention.
“Don’t you dare look away from me,” he says, releasing your knees from its contraption only to have your legs dangle over his shoulders as he brought his thumb down to circle over your clit and using it as leverage to push you towards your orgasm.
And that seemed to do the job. A string of curses fell from your lips as you completely broke down on him, a sheen layer of white making an appearance between your legs which only became more prominent once Jimin slowed down. A visible mix of white had coated his cock as he continued to slowly fuck you in a bid to help you calm down.
Jimin’s jaw fell slack once he decided to pull out of you, leaving a trail of white behind him as he fell to lie beside you,
You both finally established this was more than just a mutual fuck; it was an open-ended gateway for the pair of you to become something more.
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perm taglist: @aliceaflor5-blog - @kookiecrumb - @jjkeverlast - @prettyghost - @kooliv - @koobsessed - @gimmethatagustd - @pb-n-juju - @aslias17 - @ririlovesangst - @kootonins - @taehyungseggs - @dewamused - @jungshook7 - @jiminsneckkisses - @moonfaery - @jkluvrrs
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bo0tleg · 2 months
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GEMS MY FRIEND SAID WATCHING 'TOP GUN: MAVERICK' FOR THE FIRST TIME:
"The jacket! The famous jacket that pulls women, pulls men, pulls the world!"
"Oh look how hot~ he looks on that motorcicle. He's even pracing his ass!"
(Maverick, on screen: "Well... He's not here yet.") The mans madness has begun."
"MAVERICK DON'T DIE YOU STILL NEED TO HAVE YOUR GAY ROMANCE!"
"He lasted two months at Top Gun? HA. He probably was a bigger piece of work than the students."
"From what I can tell, Maverick tamed Iceman. In the first one he was the little annoying bitch and Maverick saw a challenge."
"I mean, at least these two (Penny and Mav) have chemistry. They hooked up in a plane, after all."
"Iceman solves his problems, Iceman keeps his job, what a simp. That's dog behavior."
"Maverick doesn't look likes he's flirting with her, he's just confused. His confused face looks like his flirting face, and people assume. I know this because people do it to me."
"Yeah, he's kinda like that one Olívia Rodrigo song that she gets confused when she sees her ex... What was it again?" ('bad Idea right?' by Olivia Rodrigo)
"I like him (Bob)! He's pathetic like me!"
"Oooohhh they're (Phoenix and Bob) gonna be besties! I can feel it."
(When Phoenix racks Rooster with the cue) "OHOHOHOOOO I LIKE HER ALREADY."
(Didn't notice Hangman taking Bob's cue, I relayed the information) "Aaaahhh don't steal Bob's cue. Bob's cool, Bob's nice."
(After rewinding the scene) "NO, NO, NO! WHO IS THAT? NOBODY CAN STEAL BOB'S CUE! I don't like him (Hangman)."
(Hangman, on screen: Bradshaw! As I live and breathe!) *Slowly turns towards me with dead eyes*
"That's not enemies to lovers, that's just enemies."
"With just this scene, I can tell this guy (Hangman) comes and goes. 'Sometimes I flirt with you, sometimes I hate you.' He's like a tsudere."
"Oh, got it. Phoenix is adopted into the man's group. She's a bro."
"I wouldn't say that they're his support system, but those two are the people that know him the best. Hangman is paying attention because he wants to be the best and needs to defeat Rooster. Phoenix is demonstrating a more sibling like worry."
"Hondo is like Mavericks babysitter."
"Oh. Oh, now Mav's flirting with her."
(Following the 'Baby on Board' comment) "Don't talk shit about Bob! I don't like Hangman."
"Maverick is like a step father to Rooster. Not in the 'HAHA I FUCKED YOUR MOM' kind of way, but in the way that he helped raise him."
"Where is Iceman? I'm here for the two of them, I don't give a fuck about Aeronautics."
"I think Ice and Maverick had a long relationship, but they're not together anymore. They maintained a friendship, but their lives probably went in different directions. I'd say they were together for 10, maybe 20 years."
('I ain't worried' by OneRepublic starts playing) "This song is from 2022? OH MY GOD THE SCENE"
"DON'T PLAY AROUND WITH GRANDPA!"
*Started chanting "BOB! BOB! BOB!" When he got picked up*
*Eeriely quiet during the bird strike, until Maverick starts talking to Rooster* "OH THEY'RE NOT DEAD. THEY COULDN'T HAVE KILLED BOB! IF THEY KILLED BOB I WOULD STOP AND NEVER WATCH TOP GUN EVER AGAIN!"
"Definitely 20 years. Ice is probably the only person Mav actually loved. Like, not a fling?" "Yeah, probably." "He's been with lots of women, and men, but Iceman is the only person he was ever in love with– maybe still is."
"I think his (Ice's) wife knows. That's probably why she recognizes Mav and is kind of friends with him." "That's probably why she just let him go up to see Ice." "YEAH GO AHEAD, FUCK MY HUSBAND!"
"It's pretty easy to notice that Snowman– No, ICEman."
"That is the face of a man who just lost the love of his life."
"Damn, the mans a beast. If It was me I'd already have cried, alone, in a room absolutely destroyed, never to come out again."
"He's got nobody, dude! I just want his step child to come back, because If he doesn't that man's gonna kill himself!"
"Why does it always have to have a romantic ending. Just leave him with his adoptive son. Go away."
"They (Penny and Mav) aren't going to end up together."
"I have a theory! Fanboy is obsessed with women! Cus he's 'Fanboy'." "But wouldn't he be called Simp, then?" "Ah, then he's obsessed with men." "... simp can be for men too."
"There's gonna be a Top Gun Three? Who's it gonna be about? It ain't gonna be Maverick, that man has a foot in the grave already."
"Bob is my favorite in the second movie. I have no favorites in the first one because everybody is very macho and very gay, and that's boring."
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turtletaubwrites · 3 months
Text
Gag Order
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Thank you, @princeasimdiya12 for this request, I had such a great time writing it!
*Please read the tags!! This is very DubCon!
Pairings: Sanji x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3268
Ao3 Link
Summary: You catch your boyfriend flirting with another woman, and you can't stop your worries. Until you decide to use your talents as a hypnotist to make sure you're the only one Sanji flirts with. He told you he only wants to be with you, so what's the harm in helping him keep that promise?
Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Modern AU, Implied/Referenced Cheating, not confirmed but Sanji flirts and reader gets worried, Alcohol, Hypnotism, Manipulation, Gags, Bondage, Swearing, Smut, Hand Jobs, Established Relationship, Pet Names, Sub Sanji
A/N: The reader uses hypnosis and sex to manipulate Sanji into not flirting with other women, controlling his behavior. Please do not read this one if those themes may be triggering.
Extra A/N: I DO NOT CONDONE THE ACTIONS IN THIS FIC. This is not how hypnosis works, and I would not condone it if it did. Our subconscious minds won’t accept suggestions that go against our interests. (Cults are a different story, but hypnosis sessions could not do this.) Any who, I hope you enjoy it 😊
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You remembered the way you’d blushed, shaking your head at his cheesy line. Still, something about the way he’d tilted his head, crinkling his eyes just a little, made his excessive compliments creep in like teasing fingers on your skin.
And he’d gotten you. Sanji was yours, and you were his. That’s what he promised you.
So why were you in the parking lot of your favorite coffee shop watching him tilt his head at the barista, waiting at the counter to keep talking as she prepared his drink? Why was she blushing, looking at him through her lashes?
You started the car before he grabbed his drink from her hand, chewing the inside of your mouth as you drove to a bar instead.
I knew what he was like. He’s just a flirty person. I have no reason to doubt him.
But what if I do? That’s how he got me. What if he just can’t help himself? What if it’s all a lie?
Those thoughts burned more than the scotch you sipped, failing to calm your nerves.
“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, opening a new email from your business account. 
It should be a run of the mill client, and you fell into the rhythm of scheduling and exchanging details. 
Hypnotizing clients to break bad habits was your bread and butter. Your lips twitched with a hint of pride in your work. 
At least I’m confident in one area of my life. 
That thought brought that sickening, writhing mass back to your gut, and you hated yourself for feeling this way. 
Bad habits…
You held your glass in the air in front of you, forgetting you were about to take a sip as your mind started racing.
No. Fuck. I couldn’t…
Leaving the scotch on the bar with a tip, you followed your worst impulses out the door for an impromptu shopping trip.
~
‘I’ve got a surprise for you. My place tonight?’
He answered that text almost immediately, and you let out a nervous giggle as you set things up. 
Part of your brain was screaming at you, logic and morals getting squashed by your determination.
His knock on the door felt like the point of no return.
“Hello, my love. I can’t wait to see what kind of surprise my darling has in store for me tonight.”
His hands and lips were already on you, just enough to send heat to your cheeks. 
He’s so good at getting me flustered. 
The image of that blushing barista cooled your blood, and you placed your hands on his face, willing yourself to keep steady.
Pressing your lips to his, you grabbed his wandering hands, pulling him to the bedroom. You turned on a dim lamp to reveal the chair you’d set up, displaying your new toys.
The sight of the ropes and gags made Sanji stumble, an audible moan making your own body tighten.
“I take it you’re interested?”
His heavy lidded eyes pulled away from the chair, meeting yours as a small shudder ran over his skin.
“What are we…”
“I thought I’d finally treat you to something you’ve been asking for.”
“Mm, and what’s that, my dear,” he asked, recovering enough to tease, running his thumb along your hip as he drew you closer.
“I’m going to hypnotize you.”
Sanji’s eyes widened, excitement evident in his features, before he tilted his head toward the chair.
“Do you normally tie up and gag your clients, angel? I didn’t know you were in this line of business.”
He breathed his words along the skin of your neck, his voice raspy with heat, and you let out a soft moan.
“No, sweetie, that’s just for you. If you’re open to it, of course.”
Sanji released a low laugh, placing the ropes and gags on the bed. He sat down, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair as he grinned at you. 
“I’m glad you’re so eager,” you teased, standing in front of him. You slipped into a colder, almost professional tone. 
“Do you consent to being bound, gagged, and hypnotized?”
Even in the low light, you could see the imprint of Sanji’s dick, hard and straining against his slacks as he shivered.
“What are you hypnotizing me to do?”
He was practically liquid on the chair, breathing heavily. You leaned in over him, letting an evil smile touch your lips. 
“To be a better boyfriend.”
The small shock, and mock outrage on his face made you grin. 
“If you consent, you can strip now.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head as he removed his clothes. You enjoyed the show, especially as you watched his face. 
I didn’t lie. He said it’s okay.
Your excuses were pushed away, along with your guilt and doubt as you watched his gorgeous, naked body sit before you, his heavy cock twitching occasionally as his eyes roamed your features.
As you knelt beside him, tying him to the chair, you let your voice sink into that soothing cadence. You explained what was going to happen, the process of induction, of bringing him to the relaxed state of mind needed for hypnosis. 
Trailing your fingers along his body, you asked permission to gag him, and permission to touch him.
I’m doing all of this right. He said he wants to be with only me. He wants to be mine. I’m just helping him.
The sight of Sanji bound before you, helpless to whatever you chose to do next, sent a thrill through you.
“We’re going to begin now. Are you ready?”
“Yes, darling. I’m all yours.”
~
Sanji’s mouth was parted as he stared up at your fingers, your hand above his head so that he was looking as high as he could without tilting his neck. Your other hand lay loose at your side, ready. 
This process was so natural to you now, that it had almost become your own hypnotic state. 
“Sanji. You will be totally relaxed. You will be able to hear me, and feel me, and answer my questions, and your mind and body will stay in a deep level of relaxation.”
“I am going to count from ten down to one, and with each number, and each breath, you will become more and more deeply relaxed, moving gently down.”
As you counted down, repeating the commands for relaxation, you watched his body for signs. His eyes were already fluttering, then you allowed them to close as he continued listening.
He’s going to be so easy to hypnotize.
Smiling at the thought, you started your next test. Bringing your free hand to give a loud snap at your next command, you watched his body jolt slightly before practically melting. 
“Every time you hear the snap of my fingers you sink even deeper, going deeper, drifting deeper. As your mind and body relax completely, you are open to hypnosis, open to my suggestions. As you go deeper,” *snap* “drift deeper,” *snap* “sink deeper,” *snap* “Your body and mind are accepting and welcoming suggestions.”
Normally, you’d test a client’s level of relaxation again with an arm test, but his were tied. However, you knew you didn’t need to. Some people take to hypnosis so naturally, they are the easiest clients. 
And Sanji was so easy. 
You finally brought the long count down to one, confirming and commanding that Sanji was ready to accept suggestions, and to answer questions. 
“Alright Sanji, now that you are fully relaxed, you are going to answer questions easily and truthfully. Answer me now.” *snap* “Are you ready to answer my questions?”
“Yes.”
“Good, Sanji. As you answer each question you feel relaxation move through you. Do you want to be a better boyfriend?” *snap*
“Yes.”
“Of course you do. The feeling of wanting to be a good boyfriend grows even stronger now as you,” *snap* “go deeper, drift deeper. That feeling will continue to grow as you relax,” *snap* “deeper.”
You continued snapping and repeating throughout your commands, loving how easily, and quickly he took to them. 
“In a moment now, Sanji, you will feel my fingers on your skin. You will stay relaxed as you follow my suggestions. But first answer this question honestly and truthfully.”
“Do you flirt with other women?”
“Yes.”
“Is that something a good boyfriend would do?”
“No.”
*snap*
“Good, Sanji. You want to be a good boyfriend, and now you know what not to do. It’s just a habit, and habits can be changed.”
Sanji let out a little whimper, a common thing for clients to do when facing uncomfortable information or guilt during session. 
“You are doing so well, your mind and body are relaxed and accepting suggestions.” *snap* “Now Sanji, we are going to help you become a better boyfriend. You will feel my touch now, and every touch will only bring you deeper into relaxation.”
You picked up the ball gag and traced it along his chest and arm before touching his face. You coached and guided him to open his mouth, using your fingers to gently pry open his lips and jaw. Soft noises left his throat as you fastened it behind his head, checking that it was a good fit.
He was so helpless. You didn’t realize how much you’d enjoy the sight of him like this.
“You are doing so well, Sanji. So relaxed, breathing through your nose so well.”
Sanji gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head, and your mouth dropped open when you noticed his swollen cock, precum leaking down his shaft.
You had to pause for a couple minutes at the sight. Luckily, when clients are in such deep hypnosis, you can often take a short break without them noticing. You normally need to stretch, have water, and a cough drop halfway through a two hour session. 
Right now you needed to catch your breath, trying to focus on your goal instead of Sanji’s gorgeous cock crying out for your attention. 
Fuck.
“Sanji, as you relax, you notice how your body feels. You are relaxed as you pay attention to how your lips, your tongue, and your jaw feel. As you relax now Sanji, you will continue to answer my questions. Do you flirt with other women?”
“yhh.”
The muffled sound strained from the back of his throat. You knew his answer was the same as before. 
“Is that something a good boyfriend would do?”
“ghn.”
“Good, Sanji. Now let your body remember how this gag feels. How it presses your tongue, and stops your words. You are going to use this feeling, your body is going to carry it with you, to help you be a better boyfriend.”
He nodded, small tears forming under his closed eyes. 
“Take yourself back now, going back in time to this afternoon. Picture yourself at the coffee shop. You are there now, you can see what you saw then. The smells, and the sounds wash over you. The power of your subconscious mind is bringing you back to that moment. That woman is there, the barista, speaking to you while she makes your coffee. Are you there now?” *snap* 
“yghh” 
“Were you flirting with that woman?”
A few more tears fell down over Sanji’s stretched cheeks as he grunted his ‘yes.’
“Is that what a good boyfriend would do?”
You paused after his muffled ‘no,’ his admittance of his behavior fueling your desire to see this through. 
I’m just helping him with a bad habit. 
“As you relax deeper,” *snap* “going deeper, you will go back to that moment. You will look at that woman that is not your girlfriend. And when I snap my fingers you will flirt with her just like you did then.”
*snap* 
With his tongue fully pressed beneath the large ball gag, whatever his line was that he’d used on that woman was lost, only grunts and drool spilling from his lips now.
“Your body remembers this feeling. It will carry it through, beyond this session. You want to be a good boyfriend. So now, when you want to flirt with a woman that isn’t your girlfriend, your subconscious mind will bring back this feeling. Flirting is just a habit. Now your body is helping you change that habit. Because you want to be a good boyfriend.”
Each command was accompanied by a snap, and you relished in how deep he was in hypnosis, how pliable. 
This is going to work.
“When I snap my fingers, you will say that you want to be a good boyfriend.”
*snap*
“Mn mwnn gh ghm mm ghmm ghmmrrmn.”
“We’re going to practice this again. Your mind is taking you now to another moment when you flirted with a woman that was not your girlfriend. Your mind is traveling there now.”
Sanji waited so perfectly for you as you removed his ball gag. You grabbed a soft cloth from the bed, wiping the spit that was dripping down his chin, before stuffing the fabric into his mouth. 
“When I snap my fingers, you will flirt with her like you did then.”
This fabric wasn’t as effective as the ball gag, and you tried to makeout what his line had been. 
“Whths ah ghoohthy lch ygh ghnng ng ah ghlsh lch thss?”
Even through the gag you could feel the hint of his purr, and it spurred you on. 
“When I snap my fingers, you will say that you want to be a good boyfriend.”
*snap*
“Eh whnn gh ghh ah ghoogh ghhrrnngh.”
You commanded again that his body would remember this feeling, carry it over. Then you removed the fabric, bringing your final tool in front of his face.
“Now, Sanji, in a moment I will have you open your eyes, just enough to see what I have in my hands.”
You showed it to him, then started trailing it slowly over his thighs, chest, and arms. 
“This is your handkerchief now. It will be your anchor. Everyday, you will put it in your pocket, and it will remind you of your goal to be a better boyfriend.”
You brought it to his hand, rubbing it gently over his fingers. 
“Each day that you touch it, your subconscious mind will remember.” 
You brought it to his lips, covering his mouth and clamping your hand over it. 
Again, you led him to a memory of flirting with another woman, training him to remember how this feels. 
“Your subconscious mind is accepting these suggestions, and they will carry over. Your mind will recall exactly how you have felt tonight. The next time you feel the urge to flirt with another woman, your body will remind you of these feelings.”
You folded the handkerchief, stuffing it into his pants’ pocket, unable to stifle a small smile as your heart raced, the reality of what you’d just done hitting you. 
You knelt in front of him, amazed at how hard he still was after all of that work.
“You’ve been doing so well, Sanji. I know you want to be such a good boyfriend. And good boyfriends get good things. Would you like something good, Sanji?”
“Yes,” he stuttered, finally free from the gags.
“Soon I will count back up from ten to one, and your conscious mind will let go of all that we’ve done, but your subconscious mind will remember. Your conscious mind will only remember the relaxation, and the pleasure, but your subconscious mind, and your body will remember it all. You will carry all of these suggestions with you.”
“And as I count you back to this moment, you will feel so much pleasure. You will be completely present, and happy to be with your girlfriend. You will feel so good knowing that you are a good boyfriend. Are you ready to feel good, Sanji?”
He nodded, making sweet, needy noises for you.
You started to count him out, going slowly as you traced your fingers on his lap. Continuing your commands as you teased his tip, his body started shaking as much as the ropes would allow.
“You’re being so good for me, Sanji. So good. Three.” *snap*
Stroking his cock now, you knew it wouldn’t be long. You spaced out your count, bringing him out so slowly so you could time it right.
“I wanna be a good boyfriend…”
The words came out of him without your command, Sanji’s pathetic whine making you drip with need. 
“You are.” *snap* “You are a good boyfriend, Sanji. Now, when I snap my fingers one more time you will be awake and alert with me here and now. You will open your eyes, and you will feel so good, and your body will remember.”
The feel of his swollen skin in your hand set you on fire, and you waited until you watched him twitching, feeling him pulsing.
*snap* 
Sanji opened his eyes, mouth slack as he met your gaze. Then his eyes rolled back, his come shooting straight up over his lap, making a mess. 
He let out the most gorgeous, unrestrained moans, and you kept going until every drop spilled out of him, dripping down your fingers.
His head was still tilted back, and his breath was heavy for a few long moments.
“Are you okay,” you asked, your voice soft with worry. 
What if he remembers? What if he’s angry?
“Mm, I feel incredible, my love. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more relaxed in my life.”
You let out a tiny squeal of happiness, standing up to reach his lips for a kiss.
He’s all mine.
~
You waited in the parking lot the next day, hoping he’d stick to the same schedule. Again, shoving aside all the guilt and worry, you just focused, obsessing over if this worked.
Huddling down in your seat with a gasp, you watched your boyfriend walk in, staring at his profile as he waited in line. 
Sanji got to the front, pulling out his wallet as he pointed to the menu. It was the same woman from the day before, and you cringed at her playful smile. 
Sanji smiled back, and your heart sank. 
Until he reached his hand into his pocket, pulling out the handkerchief.
Sanji looked away from her as she took his card, and you watched in sick pleasure as he covered his whole mouth with the fabric, holding it over his lips just as you had. 
The woman tried to talk to him after she returned his card, but he could hardly look at her, still holding the handkerchief to his face as he nodded. 
He walked away, standing against the wall as he waited. 
Guilt and triumph filled you, and your hands were shaking as you grabbed your keys. 
You let out a little scream when your phone chirped, dropping your keys, then laughed at your nerves. You started the car, wanting to get out of there before he came outside, but you saw his name on your phone’s screen. 
More fear flooded you, and you saw that he was still waiting against the wall, staring at his phone. 
Holding your breath, you checked the text.
‘Can I cook dinner for my beautiful girlfriend tonight? Already missing your face, my love 💖’
You tossed your phone to the passenger seat, and drove away, body buzzing. You couldn’t believe how giddy you felt, and you kept squealing and biting your lip. 
Amidst the giddiness you still felt guilt, but you kept shaking it away, telling yourself it was for the best. 
Now he’s all mine, and I’m all his. That’s what he promised me anyway. 
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Thank you for reading! 💜
a/n: Once again, hypnosis can't do that, and I wouldn't condone this either way. But I had fun with this one, and I hope you did too!
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lionesses-lover · 10 months
Text
I’m Yours - E. Toone
The one where she is fed up of everyone’s assumptions.
Word Count: 1.5k
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Being private and being secret. Two very different things in the world of relationships. However, despite yours and your girlfriend’s best efforts, you had never managed to escape the bubble of secrecy in your relationship. 
You and Ella never meant to be a secret. You had never made an effort to hide that you fancied each other, you never made an effort to disguise the feelings that had blossomed for each other as you began to date and get to know each other more. It just seemed like everyone else thought you were friends.
———
You first met the bubbly brunette last July when you went to watch you cousin, Leah, lead the Lionesses out at Old Trafford for the opening match of the Women’s Euros. However, instead of spending the time after the match celebrating the 1-0 win over Austria with your cousin and your family, you found yourself sitting at a table in the corner of the room chatting to Ella.
She was so kind and beautiful and completely swept you off your feet. She spoke to you after every match and the endless flirtation reached its peak when she drunkenly came up to you at the party after the final, wrapped her arms around you and kissed you.
You felt like you were 16 and in love again. It was the most perfect first kiss you had ever had with anyone in your life. What made that moment even better was the drunken, lopsided smile she had given you afterwards before asking you to go on a date with her.
———
It had been about 8 months since that wonderful night and you and Ella had been together ever since. The pair of you spent almost everyday together and it was perfect. She even managed to convince you to go to a few of her matches, even though you remained stubborn that you were a Gooner for life.
The only issue was that no one seemed to realise that you and Ella were more than friends. Even Alessia and Leah who were always with you never noticed the loving looks you both shared. If Ella posted a photo with you on her Instagram all of the comments on it were people obsessing over your 'friendship'. It even got to the stage where Alessia was joking about being replaced as Ella's best friend and Leah was telling you how happy she was that you had made friends with her teammates.
The longer people believed you were just close friends with Ella the more it annoyed you, and you could tell Ella felt the same. The only issue was that you both didn't know how to start telling people. You had been dating for a while and you were worried that your friends would feel upset that you hadn't told them.
"Babe, I swear if I have to read one more thing about how were are apparently 'friendship goals' I think I'll go insane. How hard is it for people to realise that we are dating? I want everyone to know that I’m yours," your girlfriend to you one night when you were watching TV at her house. It was your last night together before Ella went away for international duty.
"I know love," you sighed, "I'm just worried Leah will hate me for not telling her."
"She could never hate you y/n, you're her favourite cousin," Ella replied, wrapping her arms around you, burying her head into the crook of your neck in an effort to get closer to you.
"Maybe we should just get it over with," you suggested, "I just don't know when the time will be right."
Ella looked up, leaned in and gave you a slow, loving kiss before saying, "We'll know when the time is right, let's not put too much pressure on it.”
You agreed with your girlfriend, before kissing her again, enjoying your last evening before she went away and you would have to wait days to see her again.
———
Today was the day. After what seemed like years apart (it was 4 days) you would finally get to see your girlfriend again. You were sitting in the friends and family box in Wembley with your aunt and cousin waiting to watch Leah, Ella and the rest of the Lionesses walk out to play against Brazil in the first ever Women's Finalissima.
Luckily, you didn't have to wait very look and soon enough your cousin was leading the team onto the pitch. Your eyes met with Ella's and she shot you a cheeky wink before proceeding to grin at you throughout the national anthems. You then watched as her face transitioned into her serious, 'game face' ready for kick off.
The game kicked off and England were dominating possession and had a few shots on goal, but it wasn't until the 23rd minute that England had their best shot. You could see Lucy running down the wing with the ball and then she managed to pass it through to the one and only Ella Toone.
You shot out of your seat with excitement and everything seemed to slow down around you as you watched Ella take the shot.
It went in. 1-0 to England. Ella had scored.
As soon as you saw the ball hit the back of the net you were jumping up and down, screaming at the top of your lungs. Your girlfriend had just scored at Wembley yet again.
"y/n,' you cousin Jacob said to you, frantically hitting your arm to get your attention, 'look at Tooney!"
You looked over and were surprised to see that your girlfriend had brought the celebrations of her goal over to the friends and family section and was grinning widely at you. Once she saw that you were looking at her she made a heart with her hands and blew you a quick kiss before running over to restart the game.
She had dedicated the goal to you.
———
Three hours later, after watching a very chaotic game that consisted of a 90+3 minute equaliser from Brazil before a penalty shootout that resulted in England winning the Finalissima and Leah lifting yet another trophy, you were sitting in the large party room with your family waiting for the Lionesses to arrive and celebrate the win with their loved ones.
Leah was one of the first ones to come out of the changing rooms, so you were busy chatting when you felt an arm wrap around your waist.
"Hey gorgeous," whispered your girlfriend.
You turned around and threw your arms around her, bringing her into the biggest hug and telling her how proud you were of her.
"Oh yeah Tooney what was your celebration about?" asked Leah as she seemed to finally begin to notice the love between her cousin and her teammate.
"I wanted to celebrate with my girl," replied Ella, looking at you saying, "I hope you don't mind but the moment just felt right."
"Of course I don't mind babe," you replied, kissing her cheek softly, "I'm so proud of you."
"Wait, are you two together?" asked Alessia, also finally noticing you and Ella as she walked over to see her best friend.
"Yeah Less," said Ella, "we've been together since the Euros, you were all just too stupid to notice."
You turned to look at your cousin. She was your hero, despite her only being two years older than you, so you desperately hoped that she would be okay with your relationship.
"Wow," she said slowly before pulling you into a warm hug, "we are all idiots. I've been telling everyone you two are just friends. I'm so happy for you y/n."
"Thank you Lee," you said smiling at your favourite cousin, "i didn't think it would take you all this long to notice."
"Well I was a bit suspicious when you were telling me about all the United matches you had been to," she laughed.
Ella wrapped her arms around your waist again before joking, "She's a United fan now Leah."
"Never," you replied stubbornly, "As much as I love you Ella I will never be a United fan. Arsenal for life."
She pouted before kissing you gently, "you're lucky I love you too."
"Okay," interrupted Alessia, "we're happy you guys are happy but we don't need to watch you kiss."
"Shut up Lessi," muttered your girlfriend, before pulling you in for another kiss.
———
Later that night you arrived back at your house after celebrating with the Lionesses. You had spent the entire evening with Ella and it was wonderful. But sadly she couldn't come back with you as she still had to stay at camp for another few days before the next match.
You got ready for bed before checking your phone and seeing that Ella had posted on Instagram. You opened the notification before smiling to yourself, your heart swelling with how in love you were.
@eIlatoone
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liked by leahwilliamsonn, alessiarusso99 and 7358 others
ellatoone Finalissima Champions 🏆🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 Always a pleasure to score at Wembley, even better to score in front of my girl. I love you y/n💕
———
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vase-of-lilies · 11 months
Text
A Hard Week
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❀ Mommies!WandaNat x Little!Reader (F)
❀ Stress, MD/LG themes, slight coercion but good coercion, baby talk, little reader, slight psychotic break but just a breakdown, crying, cuddling, poly relationship
❀ Request: A fic where reader is having a really bad week and just breaks down one day because she’s so anxious and stressed. Wanda and Nat see this and takes the time out to help her get little and let her relax. 
❀ A/N: Request sent in by @fragilepuppi! Thank you for your kind words, and I am thinking about moving the toy lion, the scarlet witch and the tiny wardrobe to Tumblr again! But thank you for the super kind words and thank you for reblogging and being so interactive with my stories:) Gif by me:)
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Finals week. The dreaded week in college where professors become serious, strict, and pushy. The week where they don’t care about your mental health, only your grades. You, an overachiever is their most vulnerable target for pushiness. If they say to redo it, you don’t ask why, you find what you did wrong on your own and fix it yourself. Feeling like an inconvenience if you ask for help. 
It was taking a toll on you, and Wanda and Nat could tell. You would shut yourself in your room for hours on end, studying and taking notes like a machine. But you aren’t a machine, you needed to eat, drink, shower, and sleep. And you did none of that. You pushed your own needs away to keep your head in the game to get a good final grade. It was your last year after all, before you got your degree!
Every hour, Wanda or Natasha would come in with a new glass of water and some snacks wanting to make sure that you were getting what you need. But to their disappointment they found a full plate and a half drunken cup of water, the ice fully melted and condensed onto the outside of the cup. As your music blasted into your headphones, they could only do so much. They would give you a kiss, and watch you for a few minutes before closing your door and waiting for the next hour to arrive. 
“Im really worried about her, she is pushing herself to the limit and we haven’t seen our little girl in a while.” Wanda says to Nat as they cuddle on the couch. They were so worried about you, and only wanted to see you happy and not stressed. Natasha agrees, sighing as she holds Wanda to her chest. 
“I know hon, I just want to scoop her up and hold her until she falls asleep. There are more empty coffee cups in her trash than empty water bottles. This week is killing her.” 
Wanda sighed into her girlfriends shirt and Watched the slideshow of pictures that filled the TV screen when it turned off. The pictures of you three made her smile. Your eyes were bright and full of emotion, not tired and emotionless. Your smile was genuine, not a simple acknowledgment of Wanda or Nat when they come into your room. 
“I hate how much she loves to work. She works too hard, and I don’t know how to help her. I know this week is important to her, but even with the coffee she still looks exhausted. I want our little girl back.” Natasha nods and kisses Wandas forehead, and thinks of a plan to help you take a break. 
What the women were not expecting was you to come out of your room. Tears were pooled in your eyes and you looked so tired. They sat up a little bit and looked at each other, knowing that they need to bring their little out of her shell. “Hi Angel, its good to see you out of your room.” Wanda says, reaching out her hands to you. 
As you see them happy to see you, the dam breaks and you let out a small sob as tears fall down your cheeks. Wanda gently pulls you to sit in between her and Nat and she rubs your back to comfort you. 
“Oh angel, shh, its ok, your mommies are here.” Wanda whispers, looking to Nat with the look. She reaches into the drawer next to the couch and brings out your teddy bear pacifier. She doesn’t push it on you just yet, wanting you to come out when you felt ready. 
“Doll, can you tell us what’s wrong?” Natasha asks you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 
“I- I just can’t t-t-take it anymore. Mr. Jordan j-just wants to see me suffer. He doesn’t want m-me to succeed.” Your tears fall onto your shirt, and you clench your fists in your lap. “He told me to redo a paper four times, and I still can’t tell what’s wrong with it. I ran it th-through grammar check after grammar check and he just throws it in his digital trash bin like its a line scribbled by a 2 year old. I- I want to quit school, Im so done!” 
Wanda looks down at you with sad eyes, and says “Its alright Angel, can you tell mommy what you need?” She tries to coax you into your little space, knowing you need it more than they do. Natasha lays you back on the couch and cups your cheek. “You can trust us, doll. Can you talk to your mommies so we can help?” 
Their voices become a little higher, the type of tone they talk to you with when you go into your little space. You subconsciously took note of this, and the little voice inside your head whispers for you to let go. You curl in on yourself as you let your little space take over. 
“Wanna cuddle... M-maybe baf?” Your pronunciation is a little wonky, now that you are falling into your little space by the second. Nat smiles and shows you your paci. Your eyes light up and you happily open your mouth as she puts the binkie to your lips. Wanda smiles and kisses your forehead as you lay against her, Natasha pulling you both into her lap on the big couch. 
“Such a good little doll, your mommies got you, you’ll be ok.” Natasha whispers, running her fingers through your tangled hair, being careful not to pull too hard on getting the knots out. Wanda gently tickles your arm to relax you, and your eyes become heavy. 
“Seepy, so seepy…” You whisper passed the pacifier in your mouth, and Natasha looks down at you. “Sleep little doll, we’ve got you, and you’re in a safe place. Not even mean Mr. Jordan can get you here.” She smiles at your little giggle, knowing that your professor is your biggest enemy when you are little. 
As the two women calm you down and wipe your tears, Wanda uses her telepathic powers to start the bathtub from the couch. Your ears perk at the sound of the running water, but you fall back asleep in her arms. “We’ll get you in the bath when you wake up, doll. Ok?” You nod in your sleep, sniffling every now and then but finally able to calm down in your mommies arms. 
It was just what you needed in the hardest and most stressful week of your college life. Relaxing in your girlfriend's arms in a mental place that makes you feel safe. You are so grateful for them, and couldn’t thank them enough. Well, maybe when you are back in your big space you could find a way to thank them. For now, you are happy and getting better, just as your mommies wanted to help you. 
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rookiesbookies · 4 months
Note
Hi, I really love the greek gods au for the boys, could I request some more hcs for them?
I was lowkey so excited to have an ask! Welcome Anon! I appreciate you! You have braved my inbox and im super excited to have you!
I saw you ask and wrote this as fast as I could with some of the other ideas for them that swim around my brain.
Let me know what you think!
Masterlist is pinned on my account as always, and my inbox is open!
Price
He had Hephaestus forge him a special razor so he could always keep his mustache in check after an incident where he tried to use a human razor and broke it.
He wears human clothes, he does have his godly robes but he prefers to wear something that may be comforting for whatever sacrificial woman he has at a given moment.
Has debated no longer accepting the women as sacrifices
for a long string of time the women were just the horniest ones or the village prostitutes. While they were nice for a week or two he did end up finding them homes elsewhere
Gaz says he fosters women like cats.
Price isnt looking at fostering anymore though. This most recent accidental sacrifice has by far been his favorite. She’s so warm, causes no problem, and isn’t like the last one he got who owned 8 cats.
Price likes cats, just not 8 of them.
He also worries Zeus will try to take his woman
Which is why the woman is hidden and protected by Price’s powerful shield from anyone who tries to creep on her. He doesn’t want his woman threatened by Hera.
Hera already knows he has decided to marry this one, as the goddess of marriage and is probably the most proud of him compared to Zeus’ other bastard children.
Soap
He most often wears his godly armor instead of his robes or human clothes.
The human clothes are really only to go see Price, the robes are really only for relaxing in his house, but the armor is for working.
He has to really just follow around his dad, Ares
He doesn’t know his goddess mom, and Ares wont tell him. Honestly he questions if he’s even Ares because the relationship isnt very father-son, they’re more just like Coworkers
He says his mom is probably Aphrodite but who knows
He spends most of his time with Simon.
Simon is relaxed and comes to work with him sometimes. Usually accidentally causing a cold breeze with his presence.
Soap linda digs the dark robes, he hates how shiny his white ones are.
Definitely hides amongst humans when he gets pent up or frustrated from work.
Gods are so demanding in bed, he’d rather have a human.
With Price looking like he’s going to settle down with his newest sacrifice, Soap thinks about finding his own woman. Price’s helps him cook and clean and look like she’d take it with no problems. Soap kinda wants that now
Ghost
He’s a very antisocial god.
Price has tried to get him to loosen up.
Price has offered him the best of some of the sacrifices that he didn’t get along with.
Simon just hasn’t shifted.
He buddies around with Soap, says its because their work is the most similar.
In reality Soap is the one person he favors the most. Keegan is also up there, but he’s no Johnny.
He never understood why Price took the sacrifices of women. He doesnt bother with the mountain god who gets on his nerves. He loves Gaz but his social battery just dies.
He doesnt see anyone loving that.
Not to mention, he’s the god of Winter. His fingers are cold, his robes are a dark black instead of a beautiful white because he’s from the underworld, and he spends a lot of time down there as well.
He refuses to kidnap a woman how Hades had. Says he had standards and is too attractive for that. Tells people he’ll get a woman when he wants one.
Persephone worries about him. Persephone wants a daughter-in-law who can bring her cold son out of this.
Even Demeter worries, and she loves when he visits. She has no more work when he comes into town, she just wish he didn’t reek of death from the underworld.
Konig
You think Konig was tall at somewhere between 6’7” and 6’10”? Now he’s like 8 feet tall.
He’s probably the loneliest of all of gods, he lives at the top of his mountain (which is kinda like the one of Olympus where it was kinda just a glorified hill) and doesn’t get much company, unlike the 141 group.
He does wear a veil because of his anxiety, being a lonely god makes you self conscious, what if all the other gods are much more handsome?
He wears robes, unlike the 141 group, he doesnt try to blend in with humans so he only has his godly robes.
He doesnt often get sacrifices either, since his altar is at the top of the mountain. Its why he doesnt intervene when the war people come often.
If only there was a way to sacrifice someone to keep him company, he’d never need much more again.
Especially with Atlas holding up the world.
Zeus told him he was born from a single drop of Atlas’ sweat hitting the ground.
Konig has never met Atlas. So he wouldn’t doubt he maybe is secretly a Zeus child? However he doesn’t mind not being a Zeus child. Hera doesn’t give him problems and he likes it that way.
He cooks, he cleans. He’d do anything for someone to spend a bit of time with. He might start scoping out the local village and town again. Last time he was disappointed by all the interesting ones being taken, so he stayed at a distance. But maybe he’d try again.
Keegan
Work is always calling Keegan.
As Thanatos says, “humans wont stop dying, birthing, fucking, or breathing”
Keegan doesn’t disagree.
He has black robes, similar to Ghost’s as they’re both from the underworld. He has spent a great deal of time with Simon as he has to deal with people suffering from hypothermia in the harsh winters.
Simon doesn’t cold shoulder him like most others. Compared to the gods from the underworld, Keegan is quite friendly. He just knows people dont live forever.
Or he hasn’t learned Price can protect humans and living things from death yet.
He has a solid relationship with Thanatos. He cant complain especially next to Soap’s and Price’s situations
He hasn’t ever really spent time with the 141 group because he’s worried he’ll have to get up and leave randomly due to his job.
He also doesn’t have human clothes like they do. He often wonders where they came from.
His home is in the underworld, so he worries about a human living there if he ever were to take on a bride.
Maybe he’d find a nice goddess like Hades did. But Price makes humans seem so nice.
He just worries he wouldnt be home enough to care for his human or he’d have to take his human to work to make sure she got enough vitamin D… i mean he can always gives you vitamin D but it’s a different vitamin.
He’s also worried about touching a human because what if he accidentally kills them or something ridiculous like that?
Too many risks. Maybe. Unless someone is brave enough to prove them wrong.
Gaz
He saves a lot of dropped babies from serious damage. He never shows himself, always stays invisible to the human eye, but he saves a lot of babies.
Also saves a lot of kids. Toddlers and young children fall quite a bit.
He has the whitest and cleanest and shiniest robes btw
But yeah he loves saving kids. Especially when he can show his form because adults don’t believe kids anyway.
Especially if they say they were saved by a god.
He also saves quite a bit of animals. Like bird eggs.
He just prefers saving kids.
He thinks they’re really darn cute.
Wouldn’t mind a few of his own
Doesnt help Hermes keeps teasing him though.
Hermes never misses a chance to remind him he came from him jerking it on a cloud and letting it fall to the earth.
Hermes thinks its really funny.
Gaz wouldn’t hate a partner. Nymph, Human, or Goddess.
He’s taken a couple of them to bed and has to say Human is his favorite.
Did he mention he saves a lot of kids?
Would you, maybe, like to save his, perhaps, for like 9 months?
Krueger
Sebastian makes Konig’s world a bit less lonely? However isn’t the most wonderful company.
Definitely defiles the virgins of random towns near by.
Has fun telling them he’s a god and was sent by their towns patron to defile them
Lowkey Hera had to ask if he was one of Zeus
He was actually carved from clay and given gifts from gods
Artemis made him a skilled hunter, Hades made him a quick thinker, Athena gave him tactical knowledge, Ares gave him strength, Apollo gave him impermeable skin, Zeus gave him a big dick, Eris gave him wild anger
The usual
His job is not terribly demanding and has quite a bit of free time to spend with Konig
He has big dark armor and a giant axe. Definitely has a lot of fun with it
his dream is to get a temple of his own and his own priestesses who would do his bidding and pray to him their city doesnt go on a hit list for the gods
He also dreams to get a virgin sacrificed to him.
He isnt greedy like Price when it comes to women, he just wants one. One is all he would need.
He’d never need to go around defiling random virgins anymore, he’d just get to have his virgin at home.
He’d love to have his own servant. He’d treat her well he promises. He’d love an embarrassed virgin for himself.
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persephone11110 · 7 months
Text
Red Wave
Jake Seresin x Reader
Warnings: periods, blood—period accidents, past abusive relationship—asshole ex byf, relationship fluff, soft jake seresin,cuddling, hurt/comfort,curse words
Summary: Your period would come the night you spend the night at your boyfriend Jake’s house.
AN: random fic, the result of me enduring period pain. this fic was created a month ago— my coming back fic Enjoy❤️
It wasn’t uncommon for you to ignore the pain that settled at the bottom of your stomach. Unfortunately you’ve gotten accustomed to the pain—the way it rattles through your stomach, reminding you it still there. Had you banged in sick today you wouldn’t been at work today much less Jake’s apartment.
Not because you don’t want the share the same space as him but because what if he’s digusted by you?
What if Jake decides he doesn’t want you sleeping in the same bed as him and makes you pick between the cold floor or your car?— Patrick made you do that every single month.
Not many people think a big muscular man with asshole tendencies like Jake would enjoy spooning in bed. Only person who got the courtesy to enjoy was you— the only other person who had the right to see Jake Seresin and not the brash Hangman.
You.
His face is pushed against your back, his warm hands roaming around your cold stomach. Jake can’t and will never get used to this. The emotional feeling of having someone love him even when he still thinks he’s unworthy of love, the physical feeling of her touch.
At first his eyes are too busy roaming your sleeping body. The way your feet curl up because your too stubborn to admit the fact that you indeed are cold blooded. “Ice Queen”.
Jake’s pulling the blanket up when something wets touches his hand. He can’t just roll over and ignore it, he lets go of you and reaches for his phone.
The bright light shines onto the silk sheet it revealing a dark red stain.
Oh.
This isn’t rocket science, Jake Seresin has been with plenty of women—and he’s spent the last two years with you.
“Doll wake up”. Jake whispers, gently rubbing his fingers onto your back-attempting to wake you up. Jake smiles when he sees your eyebrows perk up— in dissatisfaction.“C’mon Y/n, all I need is a couple of minutes”. He fingers gently graze ovee your face— moving pieces of hair outta of your eyes.
Jake watches as your eyes finally open.You caught the time of the clock 0200— Why Is Jake up so early?, Is there an emergency?
“Jake?”, your voice is filled with worry-“Whats wrong?”.
“Nothing serious honey”Jake’s quick to reassure you.
If its nothing serious then why did he—
Thats when you feel it— and you easily identify the wetness that currently in between your legs.
Shit.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry Jake” you sniffed—you jumped out of bed—grabbing the already bloody sheet and wrapping it around you. Out of the corner of your blurry eyes, you notice how badly you bled all over the sheets.
“I-I’m sorry Patrick I-I didn’t mean to at all, you have to believe me”, your lips quivered with fear. you remember what happened last time, and the time before that.
“What the fuck is wrong with you Y/n!” Patrick angered stance reminded you of an angry animated character. Fumes running out of his ears and nose—face beat red.
All you can remember is him gripping your wrist. Next thing you knew your were on the ground holding your left cheek.
“You never fucking learn Y/n“Patricks right… you never really did learn.
You can’t count how many times you’ve stood against the shower wall staring at your own blood swirling into the drain.
“Y/n?” your vision is still to blurry to see who’s infront of you. Someones hands are gently tugging at you,“C’mere darling”.
His slips in behind you ignoring the high pressured water. He could care less about his damp clothes, Jake only cared about you.
“I’m so sorry—I’m so sorry” you kept muttering over and over again as you buried your face into Jake’s chest. “Please dont”.
Jake hates how small your voice sounds—he hates how much fear is rolling off of you.
“its okay…its okay” Jake kept whispering into your ear. “Sweetheart I’m not going to hurt you, you know that right?”, he slowly adds—Jakes unsure of how to begin.
How many times did Patrick say that to you?—how many times did he really mean it?
Jakes not Patrick.
“Yeah”, you whispered into his chest. A brief silence is followed before you break it again.“I’ll clean it up you know”.
“Doll”, hes paused his kissing,“If blood scared me I would’ve never joined any sport teams, much less became an aviator”. He presses a kiss into your shoulder—, his voice is so firm and confident.
“Thank you Jake” tears drip down your face.
“Y/n theres no reason for you to be thanking me for the bare minimum”. Water splashes as he moves around to get to your face.“Doll you need them its no different from when I buy you black coffee or how I make you eggs bloody with ketchup”
Tears started to well in your eyes“Awe, Jake thats so sweet”, your hormones are all over the place—“I love being in love with the sweetest man on earth”.
You don’t have to open your eyes to see how red your boyfriend face is–you chuckled lightly at his appearance.
“Whats so funny Doll?” He’s smiling into your head.
“Nothing, i love you”. You insisted cheekily as giggles leave your mouth. “So much”.
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neonghostlights · 3 months
Text
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Fuckboy!Eddie Munson x Reader
Warnings: Cussing, Eddie’s history of being a fuckboy, Arguing, Mention of Eddie being slapped, cheating (not between Eddie and reader), a kiss without consent (not between Eddie and reader), 18+ only for this series, minors DNI
Series Masterlist
Previous Chapter
You will be the first to admit you tend to look at things a little more rationally after you slept.
You didn’t want to blame your attitude towards Eddie the night before because you were hangry, but you did happen to wander around the woods for hours while in some sort of trance and then didn’t eat because of how angry you were at Eddie and this whole mate madness when you got home.
You were so exhausted but you didn’t let yourself sleep for hours last night, listening for every little noise and creak of the house. Mostly because of the fact that thing was still out there. Who knew if it could get in your house some how and attack you in your sleep.
But now you were awake and ravenous. The clock beside your bed told you it was noon.
You never slept in that long. Usually you were up as soon as the sun rose these days.
You stumbled to your kitchen, sleepily rubbing your eyes at the sight before you.
Eddie was cooking for you.
He knew you were there, he peeked over his shoulder at you as soon as you walked in. You wondered if he some type of super hearing or sight.
If he had been here all night then you hated to think of what you may have done in your sleep that he heard. You pushed the thought aside for the sake of your sanity.
You watched as he flipped bacon in a pan, letting it sizzle.
“I hope you don’t mind. I sent Gareth to the store to the get the food while you were still asleep so we wouldn’t use up any of yours,” Eddie said before turning to face you.
He looked tired and worried. For some reason it made you a little sad to see the bags under his eyes when every other time you saw him before he had been suave, put together in an effortless way to woo the women of Hawkins.
“I don’t mind,” you sighed. He still wore the clothes from last night. Looks like hadn’t left like you asked him too.
As if he could read your mind, he started to apologize.
You put a hand up, stopping him.
“I was cruel to you last night even though all you wanted to do was keep me safe. I’m sorry for being mean,” you apologized and you wished you had a camera to take a picture of his shocked face.
“Did you hit your head last night?” He blurted out despite his better judgement.
You narrowed your eyes, considering taking back your apology. Maybe he deserved it.
“I-I mean, sorry. You don’t have to apologize to me. I know where you’re coming from and I wouldn’t be nice to me either,” he said before you could throw something at him.
“I don’t want you to expect a romantic relationship to happen between us,” you warned and saw his face drop in poorly hidden disapointment.
“But, I could consider being friends on one condition,” you offered.
“And what’s that? What ever you want it’s yours,” Eddie said enthusiastically.
“I want you to go around town and apologize to all of the women you have wronged,” you told him, crossing your arms across your chest.
He sputtered for a moment. You could tell he was fighting between telling you no and wanting to give you anything that you wanted.
He sighed before nodding his head in reluctant agreeance.
“When?”
“In just a little bit. I’m starving,” you said as you sat a the table to watch him finish cooking your breakfast/lunch.
Eddie smiled and shook his head.
“Tell me how you like your eggs.”
The first stop on the tour to make Eddie a better person was the trailer park. Eddie pointed out his trailer, letting you know that you couldn’t go inside to go through his things because his uncle was asleep but you would be able to soon.
Instead of parking in front of his own, he parked in front of a trailer a few doors down.
Eddie shot you a look that asked if he really needed to do this and you practically pushed him out of his van that he had run home to pick up before you left.
You hated to think of the things that might have taken place in the van. You fought a disgusted shiver.
Eddie sauntered up to the door, quickly knocking before shoving his hands back in his pockets.
A pretty woman that looked like she was in her thirties or forties came to the door with a baby on her hip. You felt your eyebrows shoot up your forehead.
She looked furious.
Oh shit.
She peered around Eddie, making sure that no one else in the park could see them. You sunk down in the seat so she wouldn’t spot you.
Eddie said something to her, swaying back and forth on his feet while she looked angrier and angrier. He reached in his wallet, pulling out some cash before she took it from him and stepped back in the house and slamming the door in his face.
Eddie spun around, skipping down the steps before getting back in the van.
“Okay, first one’s done,” he said nonchalantly as he put the van drive.
“What the hell was that? Please don’t tell me you have a kid,” you begged.
Eddie let out a snort. “Nah, she isn’t mine. She got pregnant a whole six months since the last time we…well….you know. It’s her husbands kid,” Eddie said as he pulled out of the trailer park. Thankfully it seemed as if he had only had a special relationship with only one of his neighbors.
“She has a husband?? Looked like you were paying child support.”
“Oh yeah, well she had a husband I guess.She told him about me and her even though I said not too and he left her. I try to help her out with formula and bills and stuff when I’m able to to try to help her out.”
You looked at Eddie in surprise while he kept his eyes on the road. Maybe turning him into a better person wouldn’t be that hard after all.
The rest of the stops were all interesting.
You thought this would be good for Eddie but it was taking a toll on you. Every beautiful woman you saw he had had some sort of previous relationship with was like a punch to the ego every time.
You didn’t even know why you cared.
One girl kissed him- which he reacted with violent disgust to that made you feel bad for the girl but Eddie said was a side effect of the mating bond, another slapped him, and a numerous amount yelled at him or told him go to hell.
By the time you made it to your final destination, the book store, you were in a foul mood.
The bell above the door dinged as you and Eddie walked in.
Tina stood behind the counter alone when you and Eddie approached. Her eyes were wide as they flashed between you and Eddie.
You gave her a small smile.
“Hey, Tina. Where’s Jessie?” You asked, making conversation when you reached the counter.
Her eyes kept glancing to Eddie as she answered. “She called in. She said she has the flu.”
You felt guilty being here and not helping.
“Do you need help? You should’ve called me and I would’ve come in!”
Tina waved a hand in the air. “No. It’s fine. I like working by myself sometimes. Can I help you with something?” She asked you but kept her eyes on Eddie.
“Eddie,” you said as you pushed him towards the counter “wanted to tell you something.”
Eddie shot you a look.
Out of all the stops for his apologies he had really been dreading this one. He said that he didn’t even have any sort of relationship with Tina but instead she had become obsessed with him after he flirted with her once at a party, even showing up to his house once in the middle of the night.
After he got repetitive phone calls from her he had to tell her to leave him alone and that he wasn’t interested.
You wanted him to apologize anyways.
“I’m gonna go look around,” you said as you walked to a stack of shelves like you didn’t see these books nearly everyday.
You heard them muttering but couldn’t make out quite what they were saying. Only a few words were exchanged before Eddie was meeting you in the aisle you were in, letting you know he was ready to go.
He walked you to the van, opening the door and letting you climb inside.
“So, how did it go?” You asked once you got some way down the road.
“She seemed….oddly understanding,” Eddie said as he stared ahead at the road before him.
“That’s good,” you hummed as you picked at your nails. “I have a question for you though.”
Eddie glanced over at you.
“Would you have been interested me even if there was no such thing as mates?” You asked, voice small.
“Of course I would have. Why are you asking that?”
“Because I don’t think you would have. Not that I care or anything,” you stated like it was obvious.
“You obviously care or you wouldn’t be asking me,” Eddie responded back with a smirk.
“I don’t though.”
“Yes you do.”
“You’re pissing me off.”
“All I have to do is breathe and I piss you off. I thought the whole point of this was to prove to you I could be a good enough guy so we can be friends,” he lifted his hands off of the steering wheel for a moment.
You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond.
“You know what, I think you like me. I think you’ve liked me since you first saw me because you’ve felt a connection but your brain is miscalculating it for hate.”
“I think the stupid mate thing has made you delusional,” you argued back.
“It is not stupid,” Eddie snarled as he parked the van in your driveway.
You stared at him, not liking the tone he had used with you before pushing the van door open and slamming it behind you.
You stomped up your steps, leaving him alone in the van to think about his delusions as you slammed your front door behind you and locked it.
You knew he could catch up with you if he really wanted to, but thankfully for his sake he left you alone.
There was a knock on your door hours later.
You had spent the rest of the day stewing in your house alone. But every little noise had you on edge especially with it getting darker outside.
You jumped when you heard the sharp rap of knuckles hitting your door and you looked out the window to see Eddie’s van in your driveway.
You opened the door to see him wide eyed and nostrils flaring.
“What are you-”
“We caught the scent of whatever the thing was that tried to hurt you in the woods. We’re hunting it tonight.”
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denial-permanente · 3 months
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Hi there,
I’ve been a follower of your for quite a while and have to say I admire the dynamic you and Tom share, and the strength and closeness that your base relationship reflects.
I send this seeking your opinion, and I apologize if you’ve already answered this before.
I find myself in a precarious situation where I have, slowly, yet steadily and surely, become interested in chastity. For me, and I say this with as much honesty as one can, my interest in this isn’t fetishized as is more Domme focused. As in, I do not find myself interested in the idea because it gets me all hot and bothered (despite the fact that it does), but is more my desire to offer my Domme something I know I have not fully internalized and am fully comfortable with. Its beyond my comfort zone but that is where growth and magic take place. I will want yo say that my apprehension or anxiety are not because I don’t want to be thrown/throw myself into the deep end, but a nervousness about the realities and challenges of how it will play out if that makes sense? It’s sort of a ‘careful what you wish for’ kind of situation.
I am currently seeing a very special woman who is very much on the dominant side of things and we’ve talked about some aspects that our dynamic would involve. We have discussed orgasm control, and she has made it clear to me that this is an expectation she has of me, but chastity is yet to be discussed.
We have been nurturing a very beautiful connection in our relationship, but the thought of her potentially wanting me in chastity and wanting to wear my key on her neck for the world to see (even if fee pick up on it) makes me a little nervous. I feel like that would break me as a submissive, it would make me realize my place infinitely more deeply and would bring me into a state of submission that is beyond what Im used to or know what to expect from.
So I guess my question is: why do you think Im feeling this way and do you think I should override this nervous and just surrender to that desire of hers (as it comes up) fully? I know these are questions only I could answer but I appreciate your experience and take on this greatly.
Thank you in advance :)
Like a lot of men, you may be way overthinking all this. You're seeing a domme, you have chemistry, and things are going well. And instead of just enjoying all this you are worried that things will go... too well? 🙄
First of all, she may not even want to wear one of those ugly keys. I'm sorry... I know a lot of you men get all hot and bothered but we are not 14 years old here. Those keys are ugly and no woman wants to wear one especially if they are dressed up.
Second, she wants to control your orgasms. That is perfectly acceptable with or without a cage. By asking... demanding that she take control of your orgasms she makes sure that your desire is focused on her and not on your penis. I told my husband many years ago that I wanted all of the control over that and even in times when he was not caged he took that very seriously. To me it represented a huge commitment... and women love to see commitment from men.
I guess what I'm saying is to forget about the cage. That is... the cage is not to prevent orgasms, it is to prevent accidents and temptation... both yours and hers.
🔒Tom here. This is a point that gets overlooked a lot: cages do not prevent orgasms, they simply make them inconvenient. Long before my permanently locked status, I considered it a personal challenge to refrain from unauthorized orgasms. Once, my wife had me going for over 15 very difficult months, no cage. And it's true - women love their men to show commitment.
I also think that you're overthinking this. Orgasm control is a step, wearing a cage for her is another step. I understand that guys can have mixed emotions of love/hate/fear over orgasm control/denial, but instead of approaching it as something taken away from you, try looking at it as a sacrifice you are making for her.
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