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writingouthere · 2 months

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exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.

cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.

Your date was a disappointment.

The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.

"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.

"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.

Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.

Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.

Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.

"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.

"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.

"You didn't even meet him."

"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"

You hated that he knew you so well.

"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.

"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."

"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.

"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."

"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.

"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.

"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.

"Where can we talk then?"

"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.

"Then let's go home."

"You mean to your home."

Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.

You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.

"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.

"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.

You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.

"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"

"Princess-"

"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.

"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"

"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."

You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.

"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."

"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.

They taste like cherry chapstick.

His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.

His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.

Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.

"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.

"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.

"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.

"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.

"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."

You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.

"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."

The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.

You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.

Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.

Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?

No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.

"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.

The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.

Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.

"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."

"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.

"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.

"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"

"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."

You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."

Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.

For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.

You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.

"Alright, come then, you've earned it."

With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.

Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.

"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.

Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.

"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."

"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.

You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."

When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.

You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.

"Cozy."

"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.

"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."

The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."

"I did."

He looks at you. "Why?"

"You know why," you say, tired again.

"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."

"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."

"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.

"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"

"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.

"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."

"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"

"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."

There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.

Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."

"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."

"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."

"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."

"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.

"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."

"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."

You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.

"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."

Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"

"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."

"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."

You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.

"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."

"That's asking for a lot from a guy."

"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.

"Bye, Sukuna."

Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.

He leaves without another word.

When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.

----------

It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.

The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?

"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.

"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."

"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.

You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.

"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.

"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."

You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.

"Hey."

"Hey, princess. Bad time?"

"No, just, what do you want?"

"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."

You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?

"What do you want to say?"

"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."

"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.

"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."

You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.

"Uh huh."

"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."

"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.

"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."

"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"

"Why do you talk like such a brat?"

"You know-"

"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.

"So when is this date?"

"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."

"Are you fucking here, you creep?"

"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."

"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.

"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."

"Alright, I'll see you soon."

Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.

But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.

There's another guy that you love.

So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.

Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?

Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk #sukuna

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aireia · 3 months

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pretty. — shopping for your wedding gown went a little wrong.

tw/cw: tooth rotting fluff, not proofread, fluff/crack, reader wears a dress + satoru calls them his future wife —masterlist

you smile and place your palms under your chin, wondering how you got to this point. your snowy haired fiancé is currently twirling around with a custom tailored wedding gown… which he wasn’t going to be wearing on your wedding day anyway, because he would never hear the end of it from his first year trio. okay, yuji probably wouldn’t have said anything, but nobara and megumi would bully him out of his own wedding. without a doubt, 100 percent.

your mind tried running through the events that had unfolded over the past two weeks, finally stopping at where everything started.

“pretty.”

those were the only words that satoru gojo had to say the moment the both of you had found the perfect wedding dress for you. detailed right down to the final bits of the dress, it matched you perfectly with your favourite flowers weaved into the design, just the perfect length… it was everything you were looking for.

the sound of your soft laughter brought him out of his awestruck expression. “thank you, but as much as i love it, it feels just a little uncomfortable.” you sounded a little disappointed, and satoru couldn’t help but notice every little shift and movement you made… especially that mischievous look in your eyes and grin plastered on your face the moment you thought of a ‘solution.’

“maybe you should be the one in a dress at our wedding. i’m sure the strongest can handle a little bit of discomfort.”

now, you and gojo had known each other for probably more than a decade. he knew better than anyone else that you were joking. but you were basically challenging him with that last sentence, right?

he abruptly stood up from the couch he was sitting on once you had gotten to changing out of the wedding gown before marching off to one of the nearby employees and asking about any dresses his size, only to be met with the response of, “this is an unusual request, but there are quite a few dresses that would compliment you-” the employee coughed a few times before continuing, “-but we are closing soon, so there might not be enough time to try them on-”

“i'll take all of them.”

“pardon?”

“including the one my future wife chose. okay thanks!”

the total came up to about 1.2 million yen. for a dress for you and those 3 gowns the employee picked out, it horrified everyone present at the counter. everyone but him, of course.

back to present time, that’s how you found yourself being the one and only audience member for your beloved’s fashion show. for a good reason, you wanted to chew him out for spending that recklessly. then again, this is the same guy who decides to buy two of the same items no matter how expensive it is “just in case the other one goes missing.”

you sigh softly before turning your attention back onto him. he’s currently trying on the final dress, and has finally got rid of the sunglasses. you can’t help but admit that he actually looks good in the dress, sparkling with all the right types of gems and jewels, paired with his now visible long eyelashes, he looks pretty.

“so? how do i look!!?” satoru asks with enthusiasm, spinning around you in circles.

“hmm, maybe i should be the one wearing your suit that day instead,” you jokingly say to him. he understood, laughing before ruffling your hair.

“as if i’d let you.” a comfortable silence filled the air afterwards, being broken afterwards by satoru confessing, “i dream of seeing you wearing that in front of me at the altar, you know?”

your eyes at this. you weren’t expecting him to say something like that so sudden.

“i can wear it at night when-” satoru’s sentence was cut off by a light punch to his gut.

“hell no.”

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

@rninies still can't write fluff unfortunately, writing this fried my brain

#signed by aireia!#gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader

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gorgeouslypink · 5 months

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My Take on Manifesting + How to Use It to Wake Up in the Voidੈ✩‧₊˚

The Law of Assumption (LOA) in a nutshell is the concept that whatever you assume to be true is the truth. The most common and popular summary is: an assumption, though false, if persisted in, will harden into fact.

You've probably heard this a million times before, but I really want to explain this the way I interpret the law and I want to present it to you the way I wish it was presented to me.

The entire law operates on the principle that your 3d reflects your 4d. These terms are interchangeable with concious/subconcious, inner man/outer man, etc but basically that is the main principle that you should understand and accept: Your 3d reflects your 4d.

Now, here's where I deviate a bit into my personal opinions. If you know that your 3d reflects your 4d and you see something unfavorable happening in your 3d, why would you force yourself to pretend it doesn't exist? Deal with it in the 3d but KNOW that you can change things. Go and fufill what you want in your 4d.

Imagination Creates Reality.

You've probably heard this said a million times by LOA girls but it is such an important concept to understand.

Something that completely annoyed me back when I was trying to get into the void and had no grasp on LOA was people who would say that your imagination is your "true" reality or that you need to fufill yourself so much in your imagination to the point that you don't even care about it anymore in your reality. I do understand what they were trying to get at, but for me, I was just like if I want to manifest going to a concert, I don't want to just imagine it to the point where I'm fufilled, I want to actually watch it?

Let me explain my perspective now. Your imagination is not your reality. You can close your eyes right now and imagine yourself dating Harry Styles but once you open your eyes again, you're not going to be dating him. Imagining something doesn't make it magically appear in your reality, or else daydreamers would be living insane lives.

However, imagination CREATES your reality. To really understand this, we have to backtrack. Let's revisit LOA in a nutshell: An assumption, though false, if persisted in, will harden into fact.

I think most people understand the idea but acctually applying it is where everything comes crashing down. For me, there were so many times when I was super motivated, I listened to subliminals, I affirmed to myself, I was really assuming whatever I was trying to manifest. But then it didn't manifest and I was left disappointed.

I think this is a pretty common occurrence in the community and I know I've gotten hundreds of asks with people in this exact position. This ask that I answered covers this more in depth but I want to introduce a topic that isn't being pushed as much as it should: NATURALNESS.

"The time it takes your assumption to become fact, your desire to be fulfilled, is directly proportionate to the naturalness of your feeling of already being what you want to be – of already having what you desire."

-Neville Goddard

So basically, this is what I think the law should be represented as: An assumption, though false, if persisted in within your imagination until it feels natural, will harden into fact.

There are many ways that you attain this naturalness. Most people use imagination, just imaging themselves with their desire, really connecting to the feeling of having their desire so that it feels natural to them. This is when your desire turns into an assumption.

There are many methods within this; visualizing being the most popular one. Just visualizing normally or SATS allows people to experience their desire in imagination, making it more natural to them. Some people can't really visualize so they rely on scripting, pinterest boards, etc. The options are endless but the end goal is the same: making your desire feel natural so that it manifests into your reality.

Some people say you have to keep repeating your method for something to feel natural to you but I disagree. Just going to imagination once, truly feeling it and knowing its yours and knowing the law and that your manifestation has no choice but to appear is all you need to make something feel natural to you. I think the main reason that it takes some people repetitions is because they don't have a strong faith in the law backing them up so it doesn't feel natural to them but if you know the law is backing you up, your desire will natural to you instantly.

Now, if you noticed, I said most people use imagination. What about other people? Well, once you've experienced a few manifestations and really strengthened your belief in the law and acknowledged your power as the creator of your reality, you don't really need to imagine. You just know your desire will come. It's natural for you to manifest anything you want so anything you want will manifest. This kind of goes into what I was saying in the previous paragraph about knowing the law is backing you up. This is why states was and is so popular, it's knowing the law is backing you up and just occupying the state of whatever you desire and knowing it has no choice but to manifest. I love this post by @lotusmi explaining it and I highly recommend reading it.

Now, how to use all this to enter the void. There are 4 things you need to understand, embody, and assume.

1. You are limitless: Literally. You can manifest anything and everything. Seriously.

2. The void is real: One of the main things I've tried to do on my blog is getting everyone to a point where you might not fully believe in the void until you acctually use it yourself but you should know its real. In my Doubts post, I linked so much material across different platforms and groups of people and all of them are talking about the void. Recently, in my challenges, I introduced a book where the author talks about the void and how that's where your reality is created from. I even had a follower recently make a post about how they found their Reiki book talking about the void and how it creates your reality. There's endless examples and at one point, you have to sit down and wonder how all these different platforms and groups of people are all talking about the void if it's just a lie. It can't be a lie if so many people have come to the same conclusion.

3. You are going to wake up in the void state tonight: You understand manifestation now right? All you have to do is know you are going to wake up in the void, make it natural to you and that's it. I promise when you realize that the word operates on your beliefs and that your imagination is honestly what matters because your reality is just a platform for your imagination to project onto (your imagination creates your reality), your manifestations are going to be so quick.

4. Naturalness is all you need: All you're doing when you're manifesting anything, in this case; the void is making it natural to you. Once you do, it has no choice but to manifest in your reality. This really ties into the third point, but I want you to understand this because once you realize the third and fourth point, the law will be so easy to you. If you haven't entered the void yet, the only problem is that it was not natural to you. As a void blogger, I know this is a case because I've gotten so many asks about this and everytime I can tell that they struggle with seeing themselves actually enter the void. It's unnatural to them. But recognizing that naturalness is the problem is also the solution. Just make it natural to you. Know that you are going to wake up in the void tonight and really rest easy in this. You know you are limitless, you can manifest anything, waking up in the void is a peace of cake.

So here's what you're going to:

Starting this moment, know you are going to wake up in the void tonight. Just know it. Now, go straight to your imagination and do whatever method will help your desire natural to you. Know that your reality is just a projection of your imagination and that you are the creator of your reality. Deal with your 3d but know that your 4d is what triumphs.

If you don't wake up in the void, don't spiral. Your desire just doesn't feel natural yet, that's all. Just focus on making your desire natural to you. That is literally all you have to do and you know you're going to enter. If you're someone who might need some time to make your desire feel natural to you just because you struggle with staying firm in the law, do @littlemissprettyprincess 's void challenge: linked here.

The void is easy, you are going to wake up in the void tonight, and you are going to live your dream life. I know you are. Literally embody that and tell yourself that. Anytime a doubt or negative thought comes to mind, just stay firm in your desire and know the law is backing you up. Waking up in the void state is so natural to you and I can't wait for your success story.

#void state #loassumption

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lostdreamr-blog1 · 6 months

Text

Pinky Promise

Pinky Promise 2

Part 3

Summary: Jake gets a call in the middle of the night asking for a ride home. But it’s who is asking that makes him worried.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Another request knocked out! Currently working on part 2 of Beautiful Stranger and might have plans for continuing this one depending on if you all like it. Thank you so much for reading! -C

You were a little on the tipsy side as you squinted at your phone trying to make out the numbers on it. With them moving as much as they were, it was near impossible to type in a correct phone number. Instead, you opened your contacts and scrolled down to your brother’s name.

The smart thing to do would be to call him for a ride, but the more drunk side of you could only think about the nagging you would get on the way home and probably the month following. So, you scrolled up and down your contacts deciding on who would be the lucky winner to receive a call at 1 in the morning.

Jake groaned as he heard his phone going off. He blindly reached for it and squinted at the bright screen, trying to decipher who the hell would be calling at this hour. He had to be up in a few hours to get ready for another day of trying to get through the near impossible assignment, so unless it was an emergency, he was ignoring it.

The number that flashed on his screen wasn’t one he had seen before. He almost wrote it off as a wrong number or another spam call, but something told him to answer it. The area code was one he knew and a call this late on a Saturday might mean something is going on. So, instead of rolling over and enjoying the few hours of sleep he had left, he answered the mystery number.

“Seresin.”

“Oh shit! That’s the Jake that’s in this phone? Why would he put that number in here?” The voice was female and sounded somewhat familiar but was clearly drunk.

“Sorry to disappoint. Who is this?” Jake was kicking himself for answering it now, having the person insult him within two seconds of talking.

“Ah. Look, you have to promise not to tell my brother anything. Like pinkly swear and everything.” Jake was too tired to entertain childish requests, but the first part of the statement finally sunk in. The only one on the team who had a sister near base was Bradley. Fuck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” He needed the confirmation before freaking out. What did she do that warranted keeping her brother in the dark?

“I am not answering that question until you promise me.” He sat up in bed, turning on the lamp next to him. There was no way this wasn’t her.

“Alright. I promise I won’t tell him right now. Can you tell me what’s going on?” He was hoping she was too drunk to catch how he promised.

“Fine. I’m at this bar with my friend and I played wingman a little too well and she left with this guy. I mean good for her. She just got over this really bad breakup and needed to get laid.” Jake had gotten out of bed and put the phone on speaker as he got dressed. Something told him he was going to have to pick you up from somewhere. That’s if you managed to stop getting sidetracked.

“Anyway, I have this thing about not liking to get in Ubers by myself and it’s a long ass walk back to my apartment.” Jake had grabbed his keys at this point and was walking out the door.

“Where are you? I’m on my way.” He turned on his truck and waited for a response.

“Shoot. Well, we started at one place and now this is place three. No place four. You know what, let me ask because I have no idea.” Jake sighed and shook his head. He had heard stories from Bradley about his younger sister and how reckless you were. Or at least that’s the way he described you. He always kept you on a tight leash, trying his hardest to keep you out of trouble.

But Jake thought you just wanted to have some fun. One of his sisters went through a phase like this and it was best to keep a close eye on them but never push them. For reasons like this.

You told him the name of the bar and he was on his way. “I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Are you okay to wait inside for me?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I need to finish this water anyway.” Jake told you to call if something came up but he shouldn’t be long.

It wasn’t but 5 minutes later his phone started ringing again. He saved your number as Baby Bradshaw, knowing that this probably wouldn’t be the last time you called him.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Are you close?” As casual as you tried to sound, Jake could hear a slight bit of urgency.

“Five minutes away. Everything alright?” The hesitation that followed his question told him everything he needed to know. But he waited for your response before he pushed the issue further.

“Umm, it’s probably nothing. Just this guy by the bar keeps giving me this look and it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable. But I’m also drunk and a tiny bit paranoid.” Jake pushed the accelerator down a bit further, breaking a few laws in order to get to you faster. He wasn't going to be blamed for getting the youngest Bradshaw in trouble.

“I’ve always been told to listen to your gut.” He heard the hum on the other end of the line as he blew through a red light.

“My gut is telling me they want tacos.” Jake couldn’t stop the laugh that came out.

“We can get you tacos on the way home, sweetheart. Now do me a favor and stand where a lot of people can see you. People like security or a bouncer. Can you do that for me?” He heard you hum again.

“Slight problem. He is following me now.” Jake’s heart started to beat faster and knew he needed to get there now.

“Shit. What did Bradley say. Thumb out, use your knuckles.” He shook his head trying to figure out what the hell you were saying. But it clicked a second too late.

“No don’t-“ He heard commotion on the other line and parked his truck right outside the bar. Flying out the door, he nearly ran into you as you were standing by the entrance with a bouncer blocking a guy with blood running from his nose from getting close to you.

Jake grabbed you before you could get around the bouncer and pulled you outside. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, you creep!” You were yelling at the guy all the way outside, letting him know you weren’t to be messed with. He wanted to go back in there and show the guy what happens when you mess with innocent people, but he knew leaving your side wouldn’t be for the best.

When the two of you were next to his truck, Jake let go and looked you over. Your face had a red tint to it from what he assumed had just happened, but besides that you looked to be in one piece. That was until he saw your eyes start to water.

He put a hand under your chin and lifted your head up. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You sniffed a few times and wiped the tear that managed to escape. “Bradley didn’t say how much it hurts to hit someone.”

Jake bit back a smile and looked down at your hand. While it was a bit red and would surely bruise tomorrow, it didn’t look too bad.

“He probably didn’t think you would ever have to do that. Why don’t we get you back home and you can tell me what happened.” He watched you nod your head and opened his passenger door for you, closing it when you were in.

He waited a few minutes after you were on the road before asking questions. “Want to tell me why you called me instead of your brother?”

You shook your head at the question. “Have you met my brother? It would be nonstop nagging for God knows how long. Anyone else seemed like the better option.” You paused as you remembered exactly who you were with.

“I will say I didn’t expect him to put your name in my phone. He seems to have a strong dislike for you.” Jake smirked at what you had said and shrugged his shoulders.

“He probably knew I had sisters and would do anything to make sure they were alright. Regardless on who they were related to.” You thought this over and nodded your head. It wasn’t long until the next question came.

“What happened at the bar?” You felt his eyes on you and knew he was more concerned than curious.

“The guy I told you was giving me weird looks ended up following me to the door. He stopped me and tried to grab my hand and even though I pulled it away, he kept coming at me. I don’t know, I guess I just felt like I needed to do something to stop him.” You missed the way Jake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel or the clench in his jaw.

“He was lucky I was 30 seconds behind, or he would’ve gotten more than a broken nose.” You looked over and saw how serious he was. A look your brother wore all too often.

“How long until you tell bird boy what happened?” Jakes eyes caught yours and you saw the conflict in them.

“If I was him, I would want to know something happened to my sister. But I will at least drop you off before I call him. Keep your phone on silent and say you fell asleep. That way you can push it off until he gets off tomorrow.” He heard your sigh but that was the end of that.

It was silent in the car until he heard you say, “I’m not as stupid as my brother makes me out to be.” Stupid was never a word he would have used to describe you. A little carefree maybe, but you knew what you were doing.

“I see someone who wants to have a little fun in their life while they can. Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced over to you to see you playing with your injured hand.

“You’re not as bad as they make you out to be either. Besides my brother, not many people would come and get me when they have to be up soon.” Jake held back a wince when he saw the time. A coffee run in the morning would be needed. Maybe he could talk Natasha into picking him up some from that place she always went to.

He pulled into your apartment complex and parked as close to your building as he could.

“Hey, sweetheart. You can call me anytime you need help, okay? I know your brother and I are not on great terms, but I know he would help me out when family is involved.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him for the ride.

He waited until you closed the door before he backed out of the parking lot, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Bradley. It was nearing 2am and calling him was oit of the question. So, he sent a simple text.

Hey man. Your sister called a random number in her contacts tonight and didn’t realize it was me. She needed a safe ride home and that exactly what I did. We can talk about it more at base, but wanted to let you know she is safe. -Hangman

He went to put his phone down when a text popped up. He prayed Bradley wasn’t awake, wanting to push the rest of that conversation off. But instead, it was baby Bradshaw with the text You never got me tacos.

Jake laughed out loud replying that he owes you some in the near future. With a spitfire attitude that you had, Jake saw the two of you becoming good friends. That’s if Bradley didn’t lock you up after tonight’s events.

A/N: Not too sure how I felt about this one but thinking about doing a Jake and Y/N friend series. Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you for reading!

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #topgun maverick #top gun maverick #chelsea writes #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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astermath · 18 days

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hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!

HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!

wc: 1.4K

notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!

Steve is one attentive boyfriend.

It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.

He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.

So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?

It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?

You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.

“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.

The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.

The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.

"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"

You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"

"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"

"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.

"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"

Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.

"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.

"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."

The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.

Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"

You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.

By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.

Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.

Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.

Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.

"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.

"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"

The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.

"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."

He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.

"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.

"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.

"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."

The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”

You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.

“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.

“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

#tysm for the ask!#stevemath #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington writing #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington comfort #serpentwithatardis #aster replies

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month

Text

‘Damian.’ You called over your shoulder, eyes firmly locked on the thing that currently held your undivided attention.

‘Yeah?’ You heard him call back from another room.

‘Why the fuck is there a cow in your kitchen?’ Damian’s brow was immediately raised upon hearing this. Cow? There’s no way Bat-Cow could’ve- Damian then closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths before joining you in the kitchen, where he could clearly see that the white and brown Bovine cow was indeed in the kitchen, just like you had said.

Now the question of how the cow had gotten into the manor -undetected no less- was a mystery entirely because surly someone would’ve noticed a 610kg, white and brown cow mindlessly clopping down the corridor from rooms away. But none of that mattered anymore as it was irrelevant to the current situation you and Damian both found yourselves in.

‘This day was bound to happen sooner or later, y/n this is Bat-Cow, the family…well cow.’ Damian said as though it were nothing new but for you, everything was made even more confusing. ‘And why do you have a pet cow? is Wayne Enterprises expanding into the farming business is it?’ You asked and Damian felt a headache about to come on.

‘Tt. No, me and father saved Bat-Cow from going to a slaughterhouse and have kept them ever since.’ He explained as he then moved past you to gently pet the cow on the muzzle, smiling softly when Bat-Cow made a noise of content. ‘Besides, this is nothing in comparison to Goliath.’

You made a face at this. ‘I’m sorry but Goliath who?’ You asked and Damian only continued to amuse himself as he petted Bat-Cow. ‘Exactly.’ He couldn’t wait to see your reaction firsthand.

Bruce tends to overwork himself to death most of the time, much to yours and Alfred’s disappointment.

You understood why he does what he does but did he necessarily have to neglect his own health and well-being to do so?

Gotham was a piece of work that is always under continuous construction, never in the hopes of being made better, but instead to be pushed to the side and left to slowly corrode and rot. Gotham was an ever developing plot hole that was bound to become even more than an issue then first assumed.

Gotham wasn’t a place worth saving for it always found a way to relapse back into old harmful habits, much so to the point where it’s own civilians didn’t care whether the city would survive another day, with all the chaos and destruction that seemed to be happening on the daily.

In Gotham it was easy as piss for one to lose all sense of empathy, humility and humanity.

Expect for one man. Bruce Wayne aka Batman. A shining beacon of hope for the future of Gotham in your eyes, a person who looked at the piss, shit and grime that flooded the streets and thought; I could help make this a better place, not by much, but just enough so that the civilians could rest easy knowing they’re looked out for. No matter if I get beaten down again and again, I’ll always get back up because if I don’t, then who will if not me? And you loved him for that and loved even more when he first brought Dick home, followed shortly by Jason, Tim and Damian with the inclusions of Stephenie, Cassandra and Duke respectively.

So nowadays whenever you wanted Bruce to rest, you’d call upon the help of the kids -now grown ass adults with lives of their own- and Alfred to help you drag Bruce away from the screens of the bat-computer.

‘You could’ve just asked nicely.’ Bruce said as he walked with the likes of you, Tim, Dick, Jason and Barbra out of the bat cave after successfully getting Bruce to join you and the remainder of the family- whom were waiting for you all in the dinner room- for dinner that Alfred made.

‘We did, multiple times.’ Jason replied.

‘Well if you consider pulling back his chair from under him asking then yes, yes we did.’ Tim then said as Dick butted himself in the conversation. ‘I mean, it did work in our favour in getting the old man out of the bat cave.’ Murmurs of agreement followed as you leaned against Bruce, staring at your gaggle of kids with nostalgia, chuckling.

‘What’re you laughing to yourself about?’ Bruce asks and you shrug.

‘Nothing, it’s just nice to see that your soft spot for them hasn’t changed after all this time.’ You replied, holding onto his arm as he pressed a small kiss to your head and hums in agreement.

‘They happen to take after you, and you’re hard to say no to in any capacity.’ Bruce answers and you couldn’t help but squint your eyes at him. ‘Liar.’ You tell him with a grin. ‘You just don’t want to admit that I’m right.’

Bruce chuckles and kisses your cheek. ‘Okay, maybe you’re right about one thing.’ He concedes and allows you to drag him down the hallway, happy to be able to see his family all in one place.

Jason who might as well make his apartment a makeshift animal shelter because of how many strays he brings in from off of the street and dangerous living situations.

The pattern in this being that the strays he brings in were dogs that were heavily stereotyped as dangerous and aggressive, hurt, or missing a limb in some capacity. So there would be days where you’d come home to find Jason bathing an XL bully and a Pit bull, whom had some scarring left from when they were used as an illegal fighting dog, and you wouldn’t even bat an eye as you discarded your coat and went to help Jason in drying them off.

‘Where’d you find this one then Jason?’ You asked as you ran a hand through the Pit bulls short fur as it fell asleep on his lap while the XL bully fell asleep in yours.

‘In an alleyway where I was just about finishing up my patrol, tucked away in a darkened corner in a rotting cardboard box where I could heard them whimpering as clear as day.’ He responded. You could hear the anger in his voice towards the mistreatment of the poor dogs and reached over to hold his hand, stroking the back of it with your thumb.

‘You saved them Jason. You’ve given them much more than what their previous owner did tenfold.’ You reassured him, letting him know that the good he’s done will stick with the dogs for a long, long time. ‘Are you planning to give them to Damian to look after before finding them a good home?’ You then asked, having dawn to terms a long time ago that you nor Jason would have the time to properly take care of them yourselves, no matter how much you wanted to but you knew in this instance you couldn’t be selfish.

‘I would but Damian already has his hands full with the Doberman and Staffy we found last time,’ Jason sifted in his seat to look at you, ‘apparently Titus, Alfred and Ace have grown attached to them and refuse to the idea of them leaving. So Bruce is in the process of legally having the dogs be put under his care.’

You visibly perk up as you cuddled the XL bully to your chest. ‘Does that mean?’ Jason couldn’t help but laugh at your inherent cuteness as he pecked your lips. ‘Yes, we get to shelter them a little while longer chipmunk.’ He murmurs against your lips and you couldn’t help but steal a kiss from his lips out of happiness.

‘Have I told you how much I love you lately?’ You asked.

Jason hums. ‘You have but once more couldn’t hurt now would it?’ He teases.

Not even a week later and you and Jason decided to keep Riley the XL bully and Roy the Pit bull and you both love them dearly.

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luveline · 9 months

Note

Spencer coming home from a long case only to find reader has unexpectedly adopted a bunny? ("Look Spence!! This is Doctor Bunny Reid :)")

thank u for ur request ♡ gn!reader

Your apartment smells strangely like straw.

Spencer creeps inside quietly. It's five AM, too early for him to feel good about waking you up, but he hasn't seen you in eight long days, so he had to come over. He's hoping he can dump his stuff and slide into bed beside you without waking you, content to be close to you, assured that you're alright.

He shucks off his jacket and his bag of dirty clothes by the door and unlaces his shoes. Hand pressed to the wall, Spencer walks down the short hall, past your living room and kitchen, to your bedroom door.

"No, Doctor!" you say in a hushed shout from behind the door. "You can't eat that, that's one of his favourites. Woah, that tickles."

Honestly, the first thing Spencer thinks is that you've gotten so bored you've found yourself enacting odd role play. The second thing he thinks is that you've found someone to do it with, and he quickly backtracks the first thing. He doesn't like the sounds of it, but he can be into it if you're into it. Probably.

"Y/N?" he asks, pulling down the handle and opening the door.

You're sitting on the floor by your bed in strange attire. His t-shirt (that, while he appreciates the sentiment, does not fit you even slightly) under an old soft sweater with a huge hole in the collar. Black sweatpants, one sock, and a pair of white bunny ears perched in your hair.

"You're not supposed to be back until seven," you say, shocked.

"That was my seven, not your seven… Surprise?"

"Spence, I'd totally run at you right now, but," —you point at your lap— "I'm occupied."

Spencer is disappointed, doubly confused by what you're pointing at. The soft lump at your abdomen isn't your tummy after all, but a moving grey creature of the same colour.

"A rabbit?" he asks, eyes widening as the bunny in question nuzzles your sweater for petting.

"Doctor Bunny Reid," you say, avoiding Spencer's eyes, a sheepish tinge to your admission. "To be precise."

"Your sock?" he asks, moving down onto his knees adjacent to your own.

"He took it. I don't know where it went."

Spencer quirks a smile. "He's cute. I don't think I can compete, really."

You put your hand on the bunny's back and lean forward. "You compete," you say, pouting gently, "you're adorable."

His smile turns to pleased surprise as you kiss him. Twice in quick succession, before you arm curls behind his back for a loose hug over your new pet.

Spencer breathes in your smell. Or, attempts to. "The hay and ammonia is a lot."

"I know. I'll figure it out, I promise… I missed you, Spence."

"I can sort of tell." Spencer isn't sure he needs to be a profiler to realise that adopting a bunny and naming it after him while he was gone is the sort of thing only a very lonely person would do. "How's he so calm?"

"He's, um, four years old, he's used to handling. I got him at the pound. His owner died last week."

"You have all the stuff for him?"

"Of course I do," you say, leaning back to meet his eyes. "I didn't mean to get him just 'cos I was lonely, I promise I actually read up on it before I decided. He's handsome, isn't he? You wanna feel how silky his ears are?"

Spencer doesn't doubt you care, or that you're responsible, he's just surprised. You hadn't mentioned wanting a rabbit before. Petting the rabbits ears softly, he asks, "You know they live for eight to twelve years? Sometimes longer? The oldest rabbit ever documented was eighteen years old."

You frown. "I know, Spence, it's a commitment. I should've asked you first, but I–"

"No, I mean. It's not about that, I hope we get longer than eighteen years together. But are you sure Doctor Bunny Reid is the name you want to choose?"

Your face floods with relief. "Well, his real name was Mr. Patterson. Which one do you like better?"

The bunny has enough of your lap, hopping down onto the floor and bolting for what appears to be a big wooden house you've set up for him. There are black partitions for an enclosure leaned up against the wall. Spencer can guess exactly how he'll be spending the day, and it involves less cuddling than he thought.

Spencer takes your empty lap as an opportunity to hug you again, a protective hand cupped behind your head. "Definitely Mr. Patterson," he says, resting his nose against your cheek.

You laugh infectiously, leaning back under his weight.

"I missed you. I'm glad to be home," he murmurs.

You hug him tighter. "I missed you, too."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months

Text

Chapter 18 - All For You

Guys, I fear this one may be worse than the last angsty one I wrote. Am I getting better or worse? – I have no clue…I’m just in a super angsty mood rn

Also, I know that it “Born to Break Records” I said that Max didn’t know about reader’s godfather passing. What I meant to say was that he didn’t know at the time when he gave reader the trophy after she won her debut f2 race. But, because reader has a special helmet for Imola since Lorenzo was Italian, she’d have to tell him about the helmet.

TW: EMOTIONAL ABUSE, HARSH LANGUAGE, SHITTY PARENTS, AND PHYSICAL ABUSE

I am prepared for the therapy bills…

How does someone write “and they swapped spit” in a romantic way?? Asking for a friend

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

It couldn’t be them.

You blinked and stared in the direction that you had been previously looking. Your eyes narrowed as you gazed at the small crack of the garage and where the gate was. You quickly placed your special helmet down on a table and dodged mechanics as you stepped out. Mitch barely glanced at your leaving as you often went to visit other drivers before the race if you had time. And today, the parade was a bit earlier, so most of the drivers used this time to destress a bit more than usual.

As you got closer, two familiar people stood out to you. Right now, they were arguing with one of the Red Bull security guards. Your face grimaced as you could hear the shouting multiple feet away.

As you got closer, your blood ran colder. You knew it was a bad idea to come out here, but it was like a moth to a flame or even a lamb to a slaughter. You couldn’t stop your feet until you were just a few steps away.

“Mom? Dad?”

The group of three’s heads swerved toward yours. The security guard, who you recognized to be Frederik, looked at you with a questioning face. The other two looked relieved but also angry at you.

Your father rolled his eyes and pointed toward you before yelling at Fred. “See, I told you that we were her parents, now let us in,” he demanded.

Your heart dropped a bit at the statement. You were never one to stand up to your father, especially when he was already angry.

Your hear barely nodded, almost as if you were trying to even convince yourself that you were fine with them invading your life.

Fred looked over with concern.

“It’s ok Fred.”

“Are you sure kid?”

Your mother huffed. “She said it was fine. Now let us through.”

Fred sure took his sweet time to unlock the gate, something that you could find some thankfulness for.

Your mother came close to you first and wrapped you in an awkward hug: one that you did not return as it was too quick to reciprocate. Your father just stood there, with the same disappointing stare he always had.

You put your hands to the side. “What are you two doing here? Last I knew is that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

Your father rolled his eyes and your mother let out a squawk. “Is that what you’ve been telling your friends? Goodness gracious child, going around speaking lies.”

You winced at her demeaning tone.

Your father spoke next. “You make it into Formula 1 and forget everything that we did for you? How fucking pathetic.” He all but spit out the last word.

“Kid!”

Your head whipped around at lightning speed. Mitch was waving at you from the garage, a curious look on your face.

You tried to give her a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your face. “Coming!” You turned toward your parents. “You can follow me, but please do not touch anything and just stand in the corner.”

That earned another round of scoffs and groans.

“Someone has gotten bratty I see,” you mother seethed.

You paid no attention and walked back to the garage. You only knew that they followed you because you had memorized their footprints long ago when you were too scared to even get out of your room on multiple occasions. There was a difference between their normal strides, angry strides, and sneaky strides that they used when they tried to “catch” you doing something you shouldn’t have been doing – like getting an extra snack because they “forgot” to make you dinner.

You had hoped that Max, Christian, Vito, or even Mitch would be right there when you walked in, but the universe definitely hated you today. The said four were standing in a little circle, probably going over some last minute data. You had stopped in the entrance and watched them, scared that they would ask questions.

While you were watching, a rough shove was directed toward your back, sending you to the floor and making a noise. Your knees were definitely bruised now and your hands were scraped on the concrete. Max, Christian, Mitch, and Vito all turned toward the noise. You had just gotten back up and continued walking, parents behind you.

Some of the engineers had watched your father push you and were starting to question as to who he thought he was, pushing you around like that.

“Oops, didn’t see you there,” your father said.

Vito’s back straightened in defense when his eyes looked at your parents. You shot him a sorry look as he made eye contact with you.

“Ah there you are kid. We were just going over some last minute notes. Who might this be?” Christian asked, walking toward you. Right now, he was thinking that they might be some older couple that you might have known from your childhood.

Boy, was he wrong.

Your eyes glanced back at your parents and sent Christian a look, trying to communicate to him that you really didn’t want these two in the garage.

“Uh, Christian, these are my parents.” Your hands lightly raised in the air, as if to show them off.

Christian’s eyes darkened as he looked at the couple. Max behind him was mentally killing them both. Mitch was just wondering about how she could get you out of this uncomfortable situation.

“Y/n didn’t tell me that we’d be having personal guests today,” Christian said, folding his arms in a defensive pose.

You prayed that your father wouldn’t roll his eyes at your boss.

Your father only stared at the slightly taller Brit before looking at you, annoyance evident on his face. Your mother, once again, scoffed.

“Wow,” your mother let off a very fake giggle, “our own daughter didn’t tell you that we were coming? Shows you how much appreciation kids have these days.” Another fake laugh followed.

Max winced at the sight of your crest-fallen face. You looked absolutely miserable.

“Hmmm, doesn’t sound like our kid.” Christian tried to back you up.

Your mother had walked over to where you special Imola helmet was laying. She picked it up and twirled it around.

It was a beautiful piece of work. The colors of the Italian flag blended beautifully. On the side you had Lorenzo’s crest with his birthdate and death-date underneath as a tribute to him. You watched as her lip curled in disgust. But, you also saw as one of the mechanics came up and took it directly from her, telling her that no one but you or authorized personelle should be touching it.

Christian spoke up again, “Well, we are very busy right now and I need to speak to my drivers.”

But before Christian could get you away, Max stepped forward, a false smile on his lips and a hand stretched out.

“Max Verstappen, three time World Champion.’

You knew this shpeel very well. Max only said the whole title when he was over someone’s bullshit, or he knew that they were just using him for his fame.

Your father had some type of dumbstruck look as he took Max’s hand. The fuming Dutchman used this opportunity to tightly squeeze his hand, tighter than a normal handshake should have been. It made him happy to see your father wince at the grip.

Your father’s hand then came and rested on your shoulder. You tensed as his grip got much harder and harder, probably leaving yet another bruise. “My daughter has a lot to accomplish if you’re her teammate. Good thing she doesn’t have the talent to outshine you.”

You hated it when your father belittled you. He had done this multiple times in front of old friends. He was a manipulator and a narcissist. Your breath, that had been a bunch of harsh inhales and exhales, started to hitch. Clear signs of a panic attack were just around the corner. And your team could tell that you were about to possibly have a meltdown if you didn’t get out now.

Mitch finally spoke up. “We have a race in just under 30 minutes and I need to privately go over something with my drivers. Max and Y/n, please follow me. Christian, I need you as well and Vito you know what to do, we’ll be in the main driver’s room (Max’s driver room).”

Your manager gave your parents one last glare before rushing out of the Red Bull garage.

Mitch was totally bullshitting them because it was actually closer to 45 full minutes rather than less than 30.

Max held your shoulders, much lighter than your father had. He noticed your breathing had started to pick up. He sent a worried glance at the Team Principal who was currently clearing the way.

To you, it felt like your head was underwater. Everything was blurry as you looked at the world through tears, and your head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. Your skin felt tingly and it pricked where Max’s hands were now gently holding your elbows as he guided you to the room. You could barely hear them trying to get you to calm down.

Once in the room, you had sunk to the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, as a means of protection. Hands waved in front of your face, trying to get your attention as you stared numbly forward. Each wave shook a flinch out of your body.

A sudden inhale brought on ugly sobs as you tried to breath out apologies for things you didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Please, please don’t hurt…me.”

Your speech was broken, along with the hearts of Max, Mitch, and Christian who watched their strong girl break down because of someone who should have loved you. Quick knocks on the door alerted the room of someone else.

You suddenly froze, not breathing, as you were thinking that your parents were about to invade yet another safe space. Yet, your vision was filled with red and familiar cologne.

Your body acted on autopilot as your arms wrapped around the familiar figure of your boyfriend.

His voice was still fuzzy as he started to rock you back and forth.

Arthur looked around at the pained faces of your teammate, race engineer, manager, and team principal as they all looked down at you.

Christian kneeled down next to the younger Monegasque. “Is there anything we can do?”

He thought for a moment. You were curled sideways in his lap. Your legs were scrunched in fetal position, arms wrapped around his bicep as you clung to him. Your head rested against his chest with your eyes still closed.

“Her blood sugar gets low after an attack, can someone find some juice?” Vito and Christian all but bolted out the door.

“Mitch can you turn off the light? And Max, please rub her back. I’d do it, but her arms are wrapped around mine.”

The lights suddenly dimmed behind your eyelids and a hand gently touched your bad, trying to see if you’d flinch. When your back didn’t tense, Max continued to apply gentle pressure and his hand moved in small circles.

A big sigh escaped your lips as you came down from your sobs. Your lungs burned with each ragged breath, but they were thankful for new oxygen.

Your eyes remained closed as you took a minute to get your bearings in order. You tried to count down in your head starting from 100, which normally helped you calm down faster. You finally cracked your eyes open and sat up a bit straighter. The hand that was soothing on your back lifted away. A whine almost escaped your lips, but you reeled it in.

Arthur took notice of your open eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How are you doing? You were out of it for a while. Much longer than usual.”

You hummed. “I’m ok. A bit…”

“Thirsty?” The voice of your manager sounded as he walked in with multiple juice boxes in his arms, Christian behind him with even more juice boxes, and a certain Monegasque driver carried a variety of snacks in his arms.

Your eyes widened with excitement as your hand reached up to grab an apple juice from Vito. Arthur quickly took it from you and pressed the straw in and held it to your lips.

“Small sips,” he reminded you. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew he was right.

After a couple of sips, you asked, “How long was it this time.”

Your legs finally stretched out from their crunched position.

“Almost twenty minutes,” Mitch told you, handing you an icepack to put on your head. She guessed that you may be prone to migraines after panic attacks and got you one just in case. Mitch was glad to see you take it and put it on your head immediately.

The room was silent for a moment, before Max spoke.

“Kid, what were they doing here?”

You sighed. “I thought I saw them and I went to go check it out. Turns out it was them, and I really can’t speak up against my dad when he’s angry.”

Arthur concluded, “So he bullied you into getting what he wanted?”

You winced at the word, but nodded just the same.

Christian spoke up. “I couldn’t get them kicked out of the grand prix since they had tickets, but they aren’t going to be in the garage. Do you feel all right to race today?”

“You don’t have to kid if you aren’t feeling well,” Mitch also added on.

You shook your head. “No, I want to race.”

The room knew what this weekend meant for you. When you had happily shown them your new helmet, their eyes had welled with tears as you talked about the man who loved you more than life itself.

Max, who hadn’t known until Wednesday, had given you the biggest hug when it was a good moment. You didn’t know who was comforting who at that moment, but the hug would go down in your list of top 5 hugs ever.

Arthur sensed that you wanted to stand by the way you were wiggling. He slowly helped you to his feet as he pressed another juice box into your hands. Charles quickly opened a bag of Cheetos as you stared at the orange bag.

“I ran to Logan,” he simply stated. He knew that the American was the one who always had your favorite snacks on hand. One, because it was a big American brand, and two, the blond had a soft spot for you and always kept them stocked.

You took the orange twist and happily munched on the snack. The digital clock on Max’s desk showed that there was about 10 minutes left until you needed to get into the car. You quickly finished the small bag and chugged the rest of the juice.

Christian had to step out and start heading to the pit wall. Mitch followed the older Brit so that she could get to her spot inside the garage. Max and Charles left because Max needed to go over some things with GP, while Charles had to run back to Ferrari to get into his own car.

Vito stayed behind to check on you for just a few more moments. He knew first-hand how scared your dad and mom made you feel.

Then it was just you and Arthur for a couple of minutes. Your forehead pressed against his.

“Thank you, for coming to help.”

Arthur chuckled. “You really need to stop scaring me. No flipping today, ok?”

You nodded before he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips this time. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, but he couldn’t help it.

You gently punched his chest. “Thur, you do that every single time.”

Arthur brought you back closer. “It’s just because you make me so happy chéri.”

You gave him another peck, before you led him out of the room. He helped you put your helmet on, and did his ritual “forehead kiss” to the top of it. With your handshake also done, you climbed into your car. The mechanics who had seen you with your parents made sure that you were all right. They were met with a bright smile and a thumbs up from you.

For this race, you qualified rather high. Max had pouted because today had been a Ferrari front-row lock out. You had to remind him that he had beaten Charles before from starting father back. It seemed to pacify the Dutchman.

Starting Grid

Charles Leclerc

Carlos Sainz

Max Verstappen

Lando Norris

Y/n L/n

George Russell

Lewis Hamilton

Daniel Ricciardo

Logan Sargeant

Alex Albon

Oscar Piastri

Lance Stroll

Fernando Alonso

Yuki Tsunoda

Nico Hulkenberg

Pierre Gasly

Esteban Ocon

Valtteri Bottas

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

To say this would be one of your worst races (and you'd DNF-ed before), would be an understatement. Your migraine had come back and your water was completely out by the last quarter of the race. You hadn’t been able to keep Charles off for long for Max to catch up, which made Charles take the lead in the second half.

Max had also been confused as you had dropped behind him as well when you should have been your strongest.

You loved racing, but today you hated it. Your brain felt as though it was pounding with a sledge hammer against your skull.

“For the first time in almost two years, Charles Leclerc has grabbed a victory. Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2024 Imola Grand Prix. Max Verstappen clinches second with his rookie teammate Y/n L/n right behind him to make it a 2-3 for Red Bull. They are followed by Lando Norris and Lewis Hamilton…”

Race Results

Charles Leclerc – 25 points

Max Verstappen – 18 points

Y/n L/n – 15 points

Lando Norris – 12 points

Lewis Hamilton – 11 points

Oscar Piastri – 8 points

Alex Albon – 6 points

George Russell – 4 points

Logan Sargeant – 2 points

Carlos Sainz – 1 point

Fernando Alonso

Yuki Tsunoda

Pierre Gasly

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Zhou Guanyu

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Lance Stroll

Daniel Ricciardo

Standings After Imola

Max Verstappen – 168 points

Charles Leclerc – 120 points

Y/n L/n – 80 points

Lando Norris – 73 points

Lewis Hamilton – 60 points

Oscar Piastri – 53 points

George Russell – 35 points

Carlos Sainz – 34 points

Alex Albon – 26 points

Fernando Alonso – 23 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 21 points

Logan Sargeant – 19 points

Lance Stroll

Pierre Galsy

Yuki Tsunoda

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 248 points

Ferrari – 153 points

McLaren – 126 points

Mercedes – 95 points

Williams – 45 points

Aston Martin – 23 points

Racing Bulls – 21 points

Alpha Romeo

Haas

Alpine

When you pulled into Parc Ferme, you barely had the strength to get out of the car. You only found out that you needed to get out was when Max lightly tapped your helmet and held out a hand. You gratefully grabbed it and Max hauled you out.

“Are you ok?” he asked, with concern storming in his blue eyes. A nod of your head pacified him for now.

Your headache only got worse when you spotted your parents standing at the wall. You tried to send the team apologetic looks when you walked right past them, something you never did even if you didn’t even podium for a race. You always ran to their open arms.

You’d send them lots of coffee and gifts for their families to make up for it.

You kept your helmet on for as long as you could. It helped to damper all the loud noise of the paddock.

Max and Charles both recognized that you wanted little to no noise if possible, so they kept quiet or spoke in soft whispers if they did speak. You immediately sat down in a corner, trying to cool off and will your migraine away.

You only opened your eyes once again when you were called to the podium. You were thankful that you didn’t feel any panic as you walked out and stood on the lowest step. You watched as Max walked out and stood on the second place step before watching Charles almost skip to the top step. You giggled as you watched the Ferrari driver subtly stick his tongue out at Max. For a moment, you were scared at the repercussions but Max only smiled and rolled his eyes.

You took off your cap for the Monegasque anthem along with the Italian one. When you were handed your trophy, you gently kissed it (even though it didn’t light up) and held it to the sky while also pointing. The two older drivers watched as you looked so happy. Deep down, they wanted you to be on the top step, but your time was coming.

Max was then handed his trophy. His lips were a bit tight, but he’d get over it.

Charles was quite the opposite. You guessed that he was finally happy that his dry spell was over. A sixth career win and first in almost two years. You clapped as the red-clad driver held his trophy proudly.

Your head was still pounding, but the migraine was slowly going away. You didn’t have much strength to do your usual champagne cannon, but you still sprayed Charles as much as you could. When there wasn’t anything else to spray, you poured the rest on your teammate.

You had a giant smile on your face as you looked down at the crowd. Yet, it slowly disappeared as your eyes found your parents, looking up at you with distain clearly written on their faces. You turned to Max, who was already looking down as well.

He pointed down, though, right next to them where Christian and Geri were both standing, proud smiles on their faces as they looked up at you.

Geri was trying to communicate for you and Max to stand closer and to smile for her camera. You quickly put your hand around his waist to bring him in closer. With trophies raised and bright smiles, she held a thumbs up when she took the picture. Christian just continued to look at the two of you as though you had just won him every single race possible.

You were then assured off the podium and back to the garage.

“I promise, I’ll find you after. You know how much I hate wearing my clothes after they get sticky,” you told Max as you walked toward your drivers room.

You had barely just gotten you shirt on when your door opened and closed.

Your rolled your eyes. “You couldn’t have just waited?”

You turned, expecting either Max or your boyfriend. Yet, you were met with a slap across the face. Your cheek stung as you shakily raised a hand to touch it. A hiss left your lips when your fingers glazed your reddening cheek.

You barely had time to get try to get away, before another hand hit the side of your head, making your migraine slowly creep up again.

This time, a sob slipped through your lips as you looked at your parents, who were fuming.

“What did I do?” you tried to get out, voice cracking.

“After everything we did for you, you can only get a shitty third place?” your mother spit.

“Seriously, how fucking pathetic do you have to be. Offering up the trophy to someone who is dead?” your father questioned.

It was your turn to suddenly seethe. You pointed a finger at your dad. “He loved me. He taught me everything I know.” You knew you were pressing his buttons, and you were about to press the big red one that says Do Not Press. “He was the man that you’d never be.”

Another hit to the face had your head swinging. You knew that there would be a big bruise in the morning. But you were proud for finally standing up to him.

Your mother’s hand hit the other side of your face, sending you staggering back to your dad. You braced yourself for another hit, but it didn’t come. Your eyes opened and widened at the sight of your teammate with murder in his eyes.

Christian was behind him, on the phone, with your manager to the right, boyfriend and his brother on the left.

“You touch her one more time and you’re fucking dead,” Max spoke, scarily calm. Your father jerked to hit him, and that was game over.

Security came quickly after Max had some more colorful words and quite possibly a hit to his face so that your father’s matched yours.

Arthur had come to wrap his arms around you, as a protective barrier.

As you watched your mother and father be led out by cuffs, the news coming that they had been banned for life from any Formula 1 activity, and that Vito had now gotten you a restraining order (something he said that he should have done years ago just in case) – you knew that you had finally found the family that you had always wanted.

The family that you had always needed.

And you’d keep racing and winning, because 4 years ago, you made a promise.

To keep going and to keep fighting.

As you walked out of the garage, with a third place trophy and your helmet, you gently pressed your own kiss to the top of it.

“You’d be proud of me,” you whispered, “and it’s all for you. Because you were everything that I needed.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Imola was an experience. Glad I could podium in my late godfather's country to make him proud. I wish he could have been standing there to watch me today, but I have three other men who are enough for me. To Christian, Max, and Vito - I love you three, thanks for always watching my back. Oh, and my boyfriend is pretty great too, he's just shy. Thank you for an amazing experience, I'll be back next year to win (Charlie move over)

tagged: christianhorner, maxverstappen1, and vito_official

liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1, vito_official, and 94,294 others

y/n_nation I'm not sobbing, you're sobbing

kid_y/n geri and christian both smiling like proud parents killed me

maxverstappen1 why would you do this?

y/n.89 ?? charles_leclerc he's crying right now y/n.89 oh, sorry not sorry?? maxverstappen1 you will be

christianhorner I know I can't speak for him, but he'd be so proud of you kid

gerihalliwellhorner we love you sweetie! can't wait for the next family dinner! maxverstappen1 family dinner? sebastianvettel you didn't get the invite?? y/n.89 oh no christianhorner uhhhhhh charles_leclerc he's crying again

mad_max the way that in every picture, they're looking at y/n

y/n_updates aahhhh the boyfriend has been mentioned!!!

y/n.89 I can't believe we're going to the track that THEE lightning mcqueen drove on

arthur_leclerc you mean...the Monaco Grand Prix....where you live...my hometown...Charles's home race... liamlawson she said what she said - lightning mcqueen's race charles_leclerc I'm done y/n.89 LIGHTNING MCQUEEN RESPONDED TO ME???? LIAM LOOK AT THIS liamlawson I'M LOOKING charles_leclerc goodbye y/n.89 DON'T GO

f1 see you all in Monaco!

author can everyone forgive me now?

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737 notes · View notes

girlgenius1111 · 3 months

Text

all i do is try, try, try

alexia and r finally talk.

part 3!

"I can't- I can't do this anymore. I'm so tired, Alexia, I can't." You choked out. You suddenly looked so completely broken, all of the fight, the frustration nowhere to be found.

Alexia felt useless; everything in her was telling her to pull you into a hug, but she wasn't sure you wanted it, not from her. She turned, looking helplessly for Olga. Her girlfriend stood in the doorway, a small frown on her face. She nodded reassuringly at Alexia, as if to tell her to trust her instincts. Your sister turned back to you, hesitantly wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

You practically collapsed into her, wrapping your arms around her tightly, as if afraid she would disappear if you weakened your grip for even a second. Alexia could feel you trembling against her, and she held solidly to you, blinking hard at the tears that were gathering in her eyes. Your anguished sobs, the way you clung to her shirt, the way you gasped for air in between your cries, it was all killing her.

"Ale, I can't anymore, please just make it stop," You sobbed, and Alexia pressed a kiss into the top of your head.

"Hey, hey, cariño, it's okay, you're okay," Alexia murmured, trying to calm you down.

"No, I can't, I can't do it, Ale."

"I don't know what you mean. Talk to me, pequeña, please. Tell me, and I'll fix it." Alexia pleaded, wishing that anyone else was here with her. You didn't need her, you needed Alba, or your mom, but she was the only one around. The one who had made her so upset, and she didn't know if she could fix it.

"I can't, I can't," You repeated, and Alexia pulled away from the embrace, gripping your face in between her hands.

"Breathe, pequeña, please. Calm down for me, and we can then we can fix it. You just need to calm down." The blonde insisted, running her hand through your hair in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

For the second time in as many days, Alexia began trying to calm you down, hoping her words would work better this time. "You're safe with me, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You don't need to worry about anything right now, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

Just when Alexia was going to call for Olga, tell her to get someone on the phone, you push away from her like you'd been burned, resting your head in your hands as you stutter through several deep breaths.

You couldn't go to Alexia for comfort, not now. You needed to fix this yourself. Your sister shouldn't have to be responsible for trying to put the broken pieces of you back together.

"Nena?" Alexia asked after a minute, resting her hand on your back.

"Just give me a second," you responded, shifting to avoid her touch. Alexia sighed, sitting back into the couch, her eyes never leaving you.

Once you'd gotten some control back over yourself, you sat back, your face melting into a mask of indifference. "Sorry, Ale. I'm sorry." You stated, before moving to grab your crutches and get off the couch, fleeing the conversation seeming like your only option at this point. Before you could, Alexia pulled on the back of your shirt, forcing you back down onto the couch.

"No, nena, no. We're going to talk about this, please. Talk to me. I'm begging you, I want to hear what you have to say."

You rub your face roughly. "I don't know what to say, Alexia."

Your sister pauses, not quiet sure where to begin. "What were you saying to Olga? You said... you said you thought I would hate you, that i'd be disappointed in you."

"I don't- I don't think I'm strong enough for this, Alexia, to come back from this."

"Chica, it is only a broken ankle. It is only a few months." Alexia didn't understand, not at all.

"A few months is a long time. And I'm so tired." You replied, struggling to say enough to satisfy your sister, but not so much that you exposed how horribly you were coping with everything.

Alexia knew you were exhausted, she could tell now. She looked at you, and she finally saw what everyone around you had been seeing. She just didn't understand what had pushed you to this point; it wasn't her, couldn't be her. "Why are you so tired, nena?"

"I'm trying so hard to be perfect, and I keep messing up. There's so much pressure, all the time, and I feel like it's killing me." Your choice of words wasn't accidental or random, and your sister could tell. She inhaled slowly, before trying to put herself in your position.

"The media, it is a lot? The expectations are a lot, but you can't pay too much attention to them," Alexia began, trying to reassure you.

You shook your head, cutting her off. "The media is a lot, yes. It's also... fuck. It's also you, Ale. I feel like nothing I do is good enough for you. I'm not strong like you, I'm not perfect like you, no matter how hard I try."

"I don't understand. I have made you feel this way?" The blonde asked, her voice incredibly small.

"You always want more from me, and sometimes it's okay, but other times, I just feel like I can't do anything right, anything the way you want me to. You tell me I'll be back before 4 months, and it's like all of a sudden there's a deadline at 3 months, and I have to be back by then, or you won't be happy with me." You chanced a look at your sister, finding her completely and utterly shocked.

You continued, realizing that you might as well just tell the entire truth at this point. "I just want to be good enough, Alexia. Good enough that you're proud and that you love me."

Alexia's face crumples at this, reacting to your words like she'd been struck by you. She seems to consider what to say for a while, mouth opening and closing before finally, she settles on something, looking at you.

"I am so sorry." She said, drawing in a big breath as if to prepare for a long speech. You shake your head, but she holds up a hand, telling you to be quiet for a minute. "I never meant to make you feel like that, never. I thought I was doing the right thing, pushing you to be better in a way you wanted. I didn't realize it was too much, I didn't realize you were struggling so much, nena."

Alexa paused, getting her emotions under control.

"I don't want you to be me, or do things just because you think they'll make me happy. Pequeña, you are you, and you are perfect. I don't want you to be anybody but yourself. Whatever makes you happy, that's all I want."

"But with football," you began, before Alexia cuts you off with a strong shake of her head.

"Fuck football. Hermanita, if you wanted to quit football today, I would love you just as much, I would be just as proud of you. You don't need to earn that from me; you are a good person, an incredible sister, and that is why I love you. Not because of what you do or don't do on the pitch. That doesn't matter to me, not really. You matter to me. More than anything."

You still wouldn't look at your sister, so Alexia grabs you by the shoulders turning you to face her. Her eyes are glistening with tears when she speaks, the words cracking you open, leaving a chasm of pain behind.

"You will always be good enough for me, do you understand? I will always love you. Nothing you could do will ever change that." Alexia promised, watching as your body sags with relief. You lean imperceptibly towards her, and Alexia pulls you in again, not letting go even as you shake against her.

"Oh, pequeña. I love you, hermanita. I love you more than anything." Alexia whispered. "I'm so sorry you felt like this, so so sorry. Mi hermanita perfecta, te amo mucho de menos."

You stayed like that for a while, face buried in your sister's shirt, letting go of all of the stress and sadness that had been weighing on you for the past months. Alexia wanted to cry, too, but she didn't let herself. Forcing you to deal with her emotions right now wouldn't be fair. Not after all that she had unknowingly put you through.

"You're going to take your time getting better, however long it takes. And you'll stay here with me and Olga, as long as you need. I'm going to be a better sister, nena, I promise you. I promise." Your sister said the words quietly, but the weight of them was not diminished.

"And you won't be mad if it takes longer?" You asked, leaning back and drying your eyes.

"No. Never."

"Okay." You said, a small smile gracing your lips. "I'm sorry I overreacted."

"You didn't overreact; not at all. The only thing you need to be sorry about as that you didn't tell me sooner how much you were struggling. I'm your sister, nena, you can tell me anything. Always."

-----

Alexia waited until you were soundly asleep in your bed before she allowed herself her emotions. She barely made it in the door of her bedroom before tears were flowing down her face, and she was stumbling blindly towards where her girlfriend awaited her in bed.

"Oh, Ale," Olga sighed, pulling her girlfriend into her arms.

"How did I do this to her? For months, and not realize the pressure she was under, how unhappy she was?" Alexia sobbed, gripping tight to her girlfriend.

"Alexia, you didn't know." Olga tried, but her girlfriend only cried harder.

"I should have. She's my responsibility, I should have known."

"She didn't want you to know. All of this, it isn't your fault. You both should have communicated better. And you will, from here on out. If there is anything I know about you, mi amor, it's that when you set your mind on something, you do it. You'll help her, Ale, you'll fix it. She'll be okay again."

"But she's not okay now." Alexia said, looking up at her girlfriend with wide, watery eyes.

Olga chuckled lightly, running her hand through her girlfriend's soft hair. "She can't always be okay, amor. She has you, though, and she trusts you. You'll make sure she gets through this."

A knock at the door interrupted Alexia before she could respond, and she hastily wiped her eyes, sitting up off her girlfriend as she told you to come in. The door creaked open, and you hesitantly crutched in a step.

"What's up, nena?" Alexia asked, smiling confidently at you, as if she wasn't just sobbing into her girlfriend's shirt. Either you didn't notice, or you pretended that you didn't.

"Can I... can I sleep in here tonight?" You asked, eyes flitting anxiously between your sister and her girlfriend. Both of them only smiled, though, and Alexia scooted closer to Olga, motioning you closer. You scooted into the next to her, letting your sister wrap you up in her arms, like she used to do when you'd sneak into her bed after a bad nightmare.

"Goodnight, nena. I love you. Tomorrow will be better." Alexia murmured. You nodded in agreement.

"I love you to, Ale." You told her quietly.

You weren't exactly sure, but as Alexia's arms tightened around you, you considered that maybe she needed this as much as you did.

-----

Things from then on out were easier for you; you had your confidante back, your shoulder to cry on. Alexia proved to you everyday that she meant what she'd promised you. The biggest instance of this was when you suffered a rather unfortunate setback in recovery, one that sent you back on crutches only days after you'd finally gotten off of them.

-----

You were in the gym, working on lifting some weights, trying to keep the strength in your arms up. It was a freak accident, you tripping in your clunky boot, and stumbling into Jana, who managed to keep you upright. Not upright enough that you didn't step down, hard on your ankle. Apparently just in the right spot for you to set your healing back several weeks. You'd collapsed onto the ground, crying out. You were upset, silently so, until Alexia arrived to the medical room you were in, having sprinted over from the training pitch.

"Hey, pequeña, I'm here." Alexia announced, eyes fluttering over you frantically. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

"A little. I have to go back on crutches." You said tearfully. It had been a while since had Alexia seen you be so willingly emotionally vulnerable. She hoped it was a sign that things were improving, that you were trusting her again.

"Let's get you home, yeah? I texted Olga, she's picking up dinner for us. Your favorite." Alexia smiled, helping you up and off the table. You were silently stunned at her lack of questions; it was completely bizarre that your sister didn't ask any questions about the injury. Her focus seemed to be entirely on getting you to the car, and home. She went out of her way to make ridiculous jokes she knew would make you laugh, effectively distracting you when she did an impression of Mapi staring at Ingrid taking penalty shots.

You were almost home when you brought up what was on your mind.

"You didn't ask how much longer I'd be out for." You mentioned quietly.

"It doesn't matter. I just wanted to know you were okay." Alexia said, not a shred of doubt in her voice. You stared over at her, where her eyes were fixed on the road in front of her.

"Ale?" You said.

She glanced over at you. "Yeah?"

"You're a really good sister." You told her. Alexia could only give you a watery smile, turning back towards the road, although she squeezed your shoulder appreciatively as she did so. It meant more to her than she could express, you telling her that.

You'd worked hard to trust her again; she never directly showed you how much your confession had affected her, but you knew it had weighed heavily on her. You'd caught the tail end of the conversation she'd had with her girlfriend, and you promised yourself, there and then, that you'd try to have more faith in yourself. If not because you deserved it, because you'd do it for your sister, who carried the weight of everyone around her's problems on her shoulders at all times.

It wouldn't just be for her, eventually. It would be because you knew you deserved kindness from yourself.

-----

not proofread. hope its everything you could have hoped for :)

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas x reader #putellas!reader #woso one shot

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

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nobody sees, nobody knows

Alright, here we are, me adding my two cents into the dbf!Joel trope which we all love so much. I've read so many incredible fics like this so hopefully mine can stand up with them all. This will be a series, so strap in for more of our favourite neighbourhood DILF.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Back to Texas with a degree under your belt and a school girl fantasy to fuck your dad's best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings | I mean, dbf!Joel comes with his own warning right? Other than that, swearing, alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), dirty talk, and fingering.

Word Count | 3.3K

PART 2 | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about summer in Texas that just hit differently. The way the heat crawled on your skin from the moment you woke up to the moment you tried to sleep at night. The way your father used it as an excuse to cook primarily on the grill, regardless of the food, and the way your mother always made sure the fridge was stocked with cold drinks. The way traffic seemed to cease to exist during the high points of the day, meaning you went to the store every day at midday to buy ice cream. The haze you got from sipping cold beer by your parents’ pool which made you want to do reckless things like you’d done in New York before you realized that the beady eyes of your parents would be all over you if you tried. Reckless things like tell Joel Miller you’d wanted to fuck him for years.

Every time you’d come home from school, and he’d be there you could have sworn he’d just gotten more and more attractive. The last time you were home, for Christmas and New Year’s, you could have sworn he’d started at the gym, his biceps bulging in the arms of his fitted t-shirt, when your dad commented on it, he's chalked it down to particularly heavy lifting on the job he was working then. He’d had his hair cut in a way that made his face even more handsome and you’re pretty sure the last few times you’d been home he’d noticed how you’d flourished too.

There were moments where you’d catch his eyes as they drew themselves up your legs, or the time you decided to test your theory and wear a low-cut top and your best bra to a dinner party. His eyes had trained on your chest for most of the night, there was a moment where you’d stood up and leaned over the table to pick up the salt instead of asking him to pass it. He’d choked on his drink and your dad had slapped his back to try and help him. At least you knew he was thinking like you.

Neither of you had tried crossing the line though. Past the point of no return. You wanted him to make the first move, save yourself the embarrassment of rejection if it came, but it felt like waiting for Joel Miller to kiss you was like waiting for rain in the drought Texas was currently experiencing. Useless and disappointing. You wished sometimes that you could burrow into his brain and figure out what it was that he was really thinking about you. You suspected there would be some code of honour he was sticking to because you were his best friend’s daughter – sure it might complicate things, but you weren’t going to be back in Texas forever – what was the worst that could happen during the secret, torrid affair you’d been cooking up in your head since you arrived back from college a week ago?

“Did you hear me when I spoke to you?” Your mother’s voice pulled you from the daydream you were having whilst polishing the cutlery.

“Sorry mom, I was miles away.”

“I know!” She exclaims, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you came back, you’ve been away with the fairies,” She sighs, “I said, once you’ve set the cutlery out back can you help your dad with filling the fridge with the beer, please?”

You hum in agreement which is enough to send her back to the endless chopping she seems to be doing at the kitchen counter. It was just a cookout with the Millers and few other family friends to celebrate your return, but you think your mother thinks she’s catering for a garden party at the White House with the number of sides she’s preparing.

You make quick work of the rest of the cutlery, wanting to avoid any more questions about why you seem miles away all the time – you can’t exactly tell your mother it’s because you’re thinking about how Joel might eat your pussy.

“Need any help, old man?” You greet your dad in the garage, he’s on his knee’s pulling out bottles of Budweiser to stack in the fridge.

“Here, grab these and start putting them in,” He’s smiling, he’s always been an overly happy and laid-back man, “I hope we’ve got enough in.”

“How many people are you expecting?” You chuckle, taking a bottle from him to add to the growing number already stacked on the shelves.

“Probably ten or so,” Hu shrugs, “But one of those people is Tommy Miller and he’s not changed a bit since you’ve been away.”

“Between your drinks and mom’s sides we could host the entire neighborhood.” You joke.

You continue to fill the fridge up with drinks until there’s no room left. Your dad stores the leftover crates next to it for refilling throughout the evening, “Now, go and make yourself look nice, everyone’ll be here soon.”

You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t picked your shortest and lowest cut dress for the evening. It was a pale blue colour, with pink flowers dotted about the material. It fell to your mid-thigh and you had to keep reminded yourself to kneel down instead of bending over, in case people who you didn’t want to look caught an eyeful of the scant lace covering your ass.

There are a few people milling around already, cold beers in hand, mainly some of your dad’s older friends, who have all congratulated you on graduating and then moved on to talk about mundane neighborhood gossip.

“Now, where is that smartass?” You hear from the sliding doors; it’s Tommy and he’s bounding over to you to give you a hug.

He scoops you up into a bone breaking hug, “Congratulation’s girl, your dad said you graduated top of the class!”

He’s set you down and you can see Joel standing awkwardly next to him, “He’s exaggerating, I wasn’t top, although pretty close to it,” You turn to Joel, “Hey there.” He bends down to give you a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Good to see you back, sweetheart.”

“Good to see you too, Joel,” You chirp in response, “Where’s Sarah?”

“She’s at camp for the first part of the summer,” He explains, “Back in a couple’a weeks, she’ll be thrilled to see you again.”

“Boys!” Your dad’s booming voice interrupts your conversation, “Good to see you both!” He turns to you, “Why don’t you go and get these two some beers, I need to speak to them about fixin’ up the attic.”

You turn quietly and head for the garage. Of course, you’d become waitress at your own welcome home party. It takes no time at all for you to come back with three beers, two for the Miller brothers and one for yourself. You hand them off wordlessly, but you don’t miss how Joel grips the bottle just above your fingers, brushing against them. Of all the places for him to grab the bottle, that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

The rest of the evening goes by as expected. You spend most of it running around helping your mom set the food out, fetching more beers for everyone and trying to field questions from everyone about what you’re going to do in Texas with an MA in Archival Studies. You bite your tongue every time, and reply with something like, “I think I’ll probably work in an archive.”

The night is winding down, your mom already in bed having finished her wine too quickly, your dad sat outside in the quickly fading sunlight with Joel and Tommy and a few other stragglers. It fell to you to make aa start on the dishes, which is what you were currently doing. Rinsing them off over the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher, pausing long enough each time to take a sip of lukewarm beer.

“They got you tidyin’ up your own party?” You hear from behind you. It’s Joel.

“I’m the only one sober enough not to break anything.” You shrug without turning around to face him.

“Seems a little unfair if you ask me, sweetheart.”

“Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and help?” You counter, “Then I can be sat outside drinkin’ beer with you all.”

You hear his boots on the floor and then he’s next to you, reaching around to grab the pile of cutlery on the side, he opens the dishwasher further to put the cutlery in their designated tray and then stop, “Has no-one ever taught you how to stack a dishwasher?”

You pause in your rinsing to look up at him for the first time, “What do you mean?”

“This is awful sweetheart,” He chuckles, “You’ve got the bowls and plates in the wrong place – you’ll be doing three washes if you carry on like this.”

“Well, go on then, maestro, show me how to stack it.”

He’s unloading everything you’ve put in so far, apart from what you suspect he thinks was his expertly placed cutlery, and you’re watching as he’s stacking in completely differently to you. Annoyingly he’s not wrong, the way he’s doing it means you’ll likely fit everything in at once, “Can’t believe you’ve lived on your own for five years and didn’t learn how to stack a dishwasher.”

“Joel, I was in a dingy studio apartment in the ass end of New York, you think I had a dishwasher?”

“Well, consider yourself taught now, I don’t ever wanna see a dishwasher looking anything less than perfect, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Mr Miller.” You watch as his eyebrows raise at your new greeting, oh. He liked that.

He picks up your almost empty beer bottle and hands it to you, “Go on, down the rest,” He’s grinning, “Then go and sit down and I’ll get you a fresh one.”

You decide to push it a little further, “Yes, sir.” You watch as he swallows deeply at your words before you’re brushing past him, far too close than necessary to go and sit down.

It’s another hour of sitting around in the garden before everyone else is gone – Tommy is finishing off his beer and telling Joel he’ll be heading to his to crash.

“I’m going to call it a night too,” Your dad says, “Stay and finish your drink though Joel, there’s no rush, I’m sure this one can keep you company with her stories from New York.”

And then you’re alone with him, finally. He’s taking a long drink from his beer bottle, which you mirror, realizing suddenly that you didn’t eat much, and you’ve drunk far more than you probably should. You’re not drunk, but there’s a pleasant buzz through your body that’s making your eyelids a little heavy.

When the light goes off in your parents’ room, you figure it’s safe, “I’ve seen you staring at me, you know.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, “You make it hard not to, sweetheart.”

“Do you want me, Joel?” You don’t know where you’ve come from all of a sudden, but this confident girl isn’t someone you recognize.

“It ain’t a question of wantin’ you sweetheart, it’s a question of doin’ the right thing.” You watch as he rubs his hand over his forehead in frustration.

“But you do,” You push him, “Want me?”

“Course I do,” He’s swallowing thickly again, just like he did in the kitchen, “But I can’t have you.”

“Says who?” You pry.

“Says the fact that I’m one’a your dad’s best friends, not to mention far too old for you.” He’s looking at you and taking another big drink from his bottle, like if he finishes, he can leave you alone.

“No-one has to know,” You shrug, “Could be our little secret?”

“You been readin’ too many of them romance novels,” He snorts, “It don’t work like that, if they find out they’ll fucking kill me.” He’s tilting his head to the window of your parents’ room.

You stand from your seat opposite him, walking around the table to stop just in front of Joel, “Come on Joel, have a little fun for once.”

There’s a moment where you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, trying to weigh up being shot for touching his best friend’s little girl and finally satisfying the craving he’d wanted for a while now. Then, he’s putting his bottle down on the floor next to the chair he’s sat in. You watch closely as he shifts his position to sit more towards the edge of the chair, before one of his hands reaches out to grip the back of your thigh, just above the crease of your knee.

“You’ll be the death of me,” He mumbles before he looks up at you, “C’mere.”

He’s pulling gently on your leg as he shifts back in the seat, guiding you so your hips are straddling his. You try not to press yourself too fully into him just yet, letting your clothed heat rest above his lap. One of his arms comes to wrap around the back of your waist, the other tangling in your hair at the back of your head whilst he looks at you with eyes that say he wants to devour you.

“You gonna kiss me, Mr Miller?” You ask, innocently.

“Oh darlin’, I’m gonna do so much more than that.”

His head is tilting to the side and looking up at you from your higher ground, perched on his lap. Then his lips are on yours and God all those years of longing were worth it. They’re pressed tentatively against your own, but you can feel they’re slightly chapped. His hand resting in your hair grips a little tighter and he’s moving your head slightly so that when he opens his mouth against yours it’s the easiest thing for you to open yours right back and let his tongue into your mouth.

You let out a gasp, swallowed into his own mouth when his hands drop back to your thighs before they’re trailing up the small skirt of your dress to cup the cheeks of your ass, “You wear this for me?” He pulls away, speaking before he’s trailing his lips along your jawline, “Thought you’d get me worked up in this tiny little thing, naughty girl?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

He huffs a breath out of his nose as if to say, of course it did. He’s trailing his hot mouth down your neck now, dragging his teeth along your skin before licking with his tongue to soothe any red marks he might leave. Your head is thrown back as his hands drag you down so you’re sitting flush against him. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans when your clothed pussy makes contact with him.

You’re whining as his hands are on your hips under your dress, the hot skin of his hands setting fire to you, “What do you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his tongue trailing down to the valley between your tits.

“Fingers,” You rasp, “Make me come with your fingers Joel.”

He lets out a low chuckle against your skin, “Needy little thing, already beggin’ me to finger fuck her.”

But he’s already obliging your request, one of his hands is moving down from your hip to the front of your panties, running his thumb over the material from top to bottom, “God, I can feel how wet you are already,” You look down and he’s grinning, “I’m gonna take these off, sweetheart, but you gotta promise to keep quiet okay?”

You nod in agreement before you’re lifting your hips up, just enough for Joel to hook his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down enough so his hands can touch you. He mimics the same movement he’d done over the material, this time his fingers touching the bare skin of you seam and he’s groaning when he feels the slick gathered near your tight hole.

“God, you really are wet, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, a flush creeping over your cheeks, “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” He reassures, “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.”

You feel one of his thick fingers slip inside you, just a little, before he’s dragging the slick he’s gathered up to run light touches over your clit. You bite down on your lip to keep you from crying out into the dark, hips bucking into his hand to try and get more friction from his fingers. He takes the hint and is pressing his finger more firmly into your bundle of nerves and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep quiet.

When Joel’s hand drops from your clit you almost cry from frustration, put then he’s sinking two of his fingers straight into your soaking pussy and the relief is palpable. He’s moving them in and out of you, curling them in just the right way that has your hips moving in time with him, literally fucking yourself on his fingers. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck, placing kisses to his skin as you ride his fingers.

“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks, his free hand coming to cup the back of your head against his neck, at least this way you could make some noise – testing out your theory you let out a throaty moan, listening carefully as his skin muffles most of the sound.

“I need… god Joel, my clit, please.”

With his fingers still buried inside you, working you to the edge, his thumb moves to your clit, resuming the circles his finger had been drawing over it before, “I can feel your pussy gettin’ tight around my fingers,” He’s turned his head so it’s buried in the hair at the side of your head, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

You push back from him a little, looking down between your bodies where you can see his hand working you and that’s really all it takes. Your legs are shaking and you’re biting down on your lip hard enough that you can taste blood as pleasure bursts through you – not even you had made yourself come like this. Ever. Joel’s fingers have stilled inside you, but he’s still tracing your clit with gentle movements of his thumb, reveling in the way you jerk through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He coos at you once he’s pulled his hand from your pussy.

You’ve collapsed onto his chest to catch your breath, but you’re already subconsciously grinding your hips into his, God you want more. You’re about to reach for his belt when you can feel something vibrating in the pocket of his jeans.

He’s mumbling an apology, lifting you just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. He answers without looking at who is calling. You can hear Tommy’s voice through the phone from your place, draped over Joel’s lap.

“You just turn it to the side, jackass,” Joel is mumbling in answer to Tommy’s question on how to work his shower, “You’ve used it a million times,” Tommy say’s something you can quite make out, “No, not that one, the one underneath it,” Joel is sighing, “You were not this drunk when you left, if I find you’ve finished the good whiskey I’m gonna kill you,” Another sigh to a question you couldn’t quite hear, “Fine, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Disappointment is pooling in your stomach. You don’t want him to go, not when there’s so much unfinished business here, “I gotta go, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“But what about this?” You ask, reaching between you to cup his cock through his jeans, “Let me help you.”

His hand is gripping your wrist, “I would love nothin’ more, but I gotta go before Tommy floods my house,” Another kiss to your lips, “Next time.”

“You want to do this again?” You ask, almost surprised.

He takes the hand that had been buried in your pussy not minutes before, lifting the fingers he’d fucked you with to his mouth before sucking them right in front of your face, “Now I’ve gotta taste for you, sweetheart?” He raises an eyebrow, “Of course I wanna do this again.”

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bubblebaththoughts · 4 months

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Mating Press

aged up!Neteyam x Fem!Omaticaya!Reader

kinkmas masterlist

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut with some plot, mentor!Neteyam, p in v, very slight age gap. Neteyam is around 23 reader is 19, mating press turned into pronebone

translations:

Numeyu - Student

Karyu - Teacher

Syulang - flower

“You’re doing it wrong.” Neteyam’s voice dripped with disappointment “Do it again.” He pointed at your bow

You grimace, glaring at him as you readjusted your footing.

“Do you never pay attention to me during instruction?” Neteyam asked, making your ears twitch is anger

He sauntered over, coming close to you. He drops down to is knees at your feet, helping you to adjust your foot as he grumbled to himself. Then he stood up and stood behind you to gently maneuver your waist so you had the correct stance.

Neteyam brings his hands down to yours, using them to put your bow in the perfect position. “Now draw, and take the shot.”

You had been trying to aim for a yovo fruit that he had tied to a high up branch. Neteyam stepped back, out of your way.

Drawing back the arrow, aiming, and then Neteyam sighed, making you stop all of your movements. Your head slowly turned back to him, another disappointed look on his face.

“What?” You asked, careful not to move too much

“Don’t hold your breath like that.” Neteyam came closer once again, placing a hand on your ribs, gently pushing down on them, relaxing you. “One fluid motion, don’t over think it.”

“Draw again, and take the shot.” Neteyam pointed forward, stepping out of your way once again

You nodded, drawing the arrow back, aiming, this time you didn’t hear any disappointing sounds coming from Neteyam, so you took the shot.

“Did you get it?” Neteyam peered up, but the fruit was no longer in sight.

It was practically a race to get to the tree where the Yovo fruit was hanging, but there, on the mossy ground, laid the yovo fruit, now splattered on the ground, but your arrow perfectly through the middle. Its juices had splattered all over the other yovo fruits that Neteyam had picked for you.

A smile forms on your face as you pick the messy thing off of the ground, showing it to Neteyam. “Look, karyu! I did it!”

“Thank Eywa.” Neteyam crossed his arms, though a smile began to tug at his lips.

You roll your eyes, dropping the mess on the ground once more, taking the arrow.

“Shall I do it again?” You picked up another from Neteyam’s pile

“No, enough for today.” He gestures you to give him the fruit, you toss it to him and he catches it effortlessly

It seemed like it was always like that for Neteyam. Everything was always done so efficiently yet effortlessly.

“You did well today, numeyu.” Neteyam mumbled before he bit into the juicy fruit.

You watched the juices drip down his chin, the sweet smell of the fruit made your nose twitch, you hadn’t eaten anything today.

“You need to work on relaxing, hear me?” Neteyam began his lecture, just like every other day, it was always the same deal, letting you know all of your mistakes first and then telling you what you did well in.

He bit into the fruit once again before continuing, “Oh and you need to be quicker with your hands, when we were sparring, if I wasn’t someone who was truly trying to kill you, you would have been dead, you can’t always rely on your…” You drowned him out until you two reached the rest of the clan.

“And I’ll see you at dinner, right numeyu?” Neteyam asked, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“Yeah, sure.” You answered dismissively

“‘Yeah, sure’?” Neteyam asked, his voice going up a pitch as he mocked your dismissive words

“Yes sir.” You sighed, glaring up at him

“Good, you need some food in you. You haven’t eaten all day.” Neteyam shrugged

Your ears twitch in anger, it was his fault you hadn’t eaten yet today. He had gotten you up before the sun had come up gave no breaks today as he gave lesson after lesson.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” You fumed. Neteyam only added fuel to the fire when his face looked at you expectantly. You knew what he wanted, so you reluctantly spit out a “Sir.”

Neteyam curtly nodded, walking off gracefully to fulfill the rest of his duties.

You rolled your eyes, perfect Neteyam, with his perfect little life, and his stupidly perfect face. He was only about four years older than you, though he acted as if it were more like ten years. Claiming that because he remembered you being born, he was less of a tutor and more of your mentor or teacher.

You failed your Iknimaya, twice. So your father asked that you be helped, and of course, the Olo’eyktan recommended his own son to take the reins of your training.

Even in the beginning Neteyam was hard on you. He started your training completely over, starting you from where the younger kids usually started. He was more determined to have another win under his belt, than to care if this training was actually even good for your wellbeing.

Not to say it wasn’t working, it definitely was, it had just really taken a toll on you. Neteyam explained that this was his own method, he would train any and every second he got, and that’s why he passed his Iknimaya the first go around.

He liked routine, you would even go so far to say that he loved it. Any time you would find him veering off of his routine was all was an exciting site to see. He would get frustrated, so frustrated.

It wasn’t often that he would mess up his routine though, and rarely was it ever on purpose.

Which is why you were surprised to find him standing outside of your hut when you walked out for dinner.

“What are you doing here, Karyu?” You asked as you brushed past him

“I- I uh, wanted to make sure that you came down for dinner.” Neteyam nervously explained

You stopped dead in your tracks, turning slowly to face him. He had a concerned look on his face, his eyebrows knitted together and his lips pulled into a tight smile.

Neteyam? Nervous? Was the world flipping?

You eye him skeptically. “Why?”

Neteyam clears his throat, avoiding eye contact. “Just need to make sure my student is being nourished.”

Ah, he was just covering his own ass.

“Because you starved me all day?” You scoffed, turning back to continue your walk

“Because I care about you.” Neteyam defended, following you

“You just want another notch in your belt.” You state, anger flooded your words

“That’s not- No, that has nothing to do with this.” He grabbed your arm, holding you back.

You pull away from him, “Admit it, Neteyam. You are just doing this because you want another victory. Golden boy, right? Always does the best?”

Neteyam shoves you against a tree “You’re not going to speak to me like this.”

You wince, the tree bark digging into your back. “Neteyam!”

“I was trying to be nice, why must you be so obnoxious?” He held you against the tree, roughly

Your heart pounded in your chest, you were sure he could feel it as his hand roughly held you against a tree.

His hand is holding you against the tree by your neck “If I was a predator, trying to kill you right now, how would you get out of this?”

Only Neteyam would turn his own anger into a lesson for you, because of course he would.

“Get off Neteyam!” You whine, thrashing against him

He roughly shoves you against the tree again, “You need to grow up, Numeyu. I’m definitely not going to be there every time something or someone pops around a bush, you hear me? What are you going to do to get out of this.”

Unexpectedly you aggressively push him away while grabbing the hunting knife that was strapped to your chest. You hold it up, standing back in a protective stance, and hiss at him.

Neteyam stumbled back in surprise, a smile fell across his face as he regained his sense of control.

The two of you stalk each other, circling around one another as you hold your ground.

“So you have learned.” He spoke lowly “Such a good girl, aren’t you.”

He tried to step closer, but you were just as quick to step back.

“I’m not gonna hurt you baby.” Neteyam tried to ease forward once again but was met with another hiss

Neteyam seizes forward, taking the knife from your hand. “What are you gonna do now?”

You hiss again, circling him like he was prey. In a blink, you’re on him, taking him by surprise as you tackle him to the ground. Your arm under his chin as you held him to the ground.

“Cute.” He growled, immediately flipping you over on to your back.

One hand held both of your wrists in a tight grip. His bigger frame caged you in. Both of his thighs, each seemingly bigger than your own head, now on either side of your waist. His other hand held on to your chin as you barred your teeth at him.

“Such a fuckin’ brat.” He grumbled, pushing your head against the ground

You buck your hips against him, desperately trying to throw him off to no avail.

“Neteyam! Let me go!” You whined

He laughed, shaking his head. “Gotta do better than that, Syulang.”

You try to thrash against him, despite his hold on you.

He leans down to your neck, inhaling deeply. “You’re scared?” He tilted his head, his thumb dragging across your bottom lip

“No!” You cry

“No? Well… You should be.” He growled, leaning down to sink his teeth into your neck

Your scream was muffled by one strong hand across your mouth.

“Just relax… everything is just fine.” He mumbled as he pressed kisses to his bites

Tears began to well in your eyes, and you let out a low sob against his hand.

“Shush, pretty girl. Don’t cry.” He cooed, his lips moving against your neck

His other hand reaches down to your thigh, hiking it up over his shoulder for better access to you. He teasingly rubs over your loincloth, purposefully not giving you enough.

You can feel his arousal pressing against your thigh and it only adds to the slickness between your legs.

He stops, hid hand gently lying on your hip.

“Tell me you want this.” He demanded “I know your pussy wants this, she’s practically singing to me. But I want you to tell me you want this.”

You nod frantically “I want this.”

With one hand still gripping your hip, he reaches down and pulls your loincloth to the side, exposing your dripping core. He groans at the sight, unable to resist the temptation any longer.

He positions himself between your legs and slowly enters you, his length stretching you in the most delicious way. You moan loudly, arching your back as you adjust to his size. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep, hitting all the right spots inside of you.

As he picks up the pace, his hands move to your breasts, squeezing and teasing your nipples. The combination of his rough thrusts and his skilled hands has you moaning and writhing beneath him.

He leans down and whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "You feel so good, so tight," he growls, his words only turning you on even more.

Without warning, he flips you over onto your stomach, your ass in the air as he continues to thrust into you from behind. His hands grip your hips tightly as he pounds into you, each thrust hitting deeper than the last.

You can feel the tension building in your stomach, the familiar feeling of an impending orgasm. He senses it too and quickens his pace, his grunts and moans filling your head.

You can't hold back any longer and with a loud cry, you come undone, your walls clenching around him as you ride out your orgasm. He follows soon after, his body tensing as he spills himself inside of you.

He collapses onto the ground beside you, both of you panting and sweating from the intensity of what happened. He pulls you close, your bodies still connected as you both catch your breath.

"You’re amazing," he whispers, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

taglist: @danniackerman @loaksslut

598 notes · View notes

rinbowaman · 4 months

Note

HI, I LOVE UR WRITING SO MUCH!!

can u do something,like a oneshot Or something for heeseung where because of being an idol he can't date but he's also a hormonal man so he gets hot and bothered due to stress and other factors often but now it's gotten to a point where he can't concentrate, he needs pussy. So he tells his manager who pulls him aside one day to ask him what's wrong with him. Now the manager arranges someone (YOU) as a stress reliever for heeseung. U can continue the rest hehe:)

”The Arrangement.”

Warnings: Idol HS and y/n, oral (fem receiving), reader is getting paid for sex, hints of rough smut.

“Heeseung, come on! More energy! Bring out Ethan Lee! Concert is in a few hours, we need everyone on point.”

Heeseung’s hands remained firm on his hips as he rolled his eyes and caught his breath. He was frustrated, angry, and disappointed, mainly because there was a lot of truth in the staff’s words, he wasn’t as lively or energetic…in fact, he was slacking.

“Yeah….got it. Can we do another take?”

The staff and creative director all nod and aired the track as the boys performed their routine. “Yes! Just like that! Keep doing that Heeseung!”

“Nice wink, Jake! Do that more!”

“Sunoo, more smiling!”

“Jungwon, tilt your chin down more on this part.”

“Nice one Niki!”

“Jay, too sexy! Tone it down just a tad.”

“Sunghoon, do that thing that the girls like, you know, lick the fangs. That drives them crazy, and we want them to go ballistic during the concert.”

By the end of the hour, the group had completed a lengthy six hour session, with only ten minutes to spare before hair and makeup. “Changeover!” the staff yells out, already herding the young men backstage.

“Heeseung…you good?”

“Huh? Oh…yeah….”

“You sure? You seem to be out of it, I know it’s hard to get rest when we’re busy on tour…just a few more days and we can finally get a break.” Jake was always understanding, and normally he could guess the issue and provide the motivation as a resolve for everyone, including the eldest. However, this time…he wasn’t guessing correctly.

“Yeah…thanks.” Heeseung merely stated before changing into the first outfit. He wasn’t tired or feeling restless, maybe to an extent, but that really wasn’t the cause of his lack in performance. The man was yearning; hungry for a desire that could not be fulfilled by the pampering treatment of first class air tickets, the rising fame of popularity, or the lavish hotel stay. He needed flesh, and badly.

While it was customary for idol’s to keep things hush-hush as far as their personal lives went, it didn’t mean that they could indulge, so long as it never reached public sight or hearing. What with the frequent dates he’s gone on with many of the most well known female idols, some younger or older, the rigorous tour schedule had kept him from maintaining anything steady, and for so long he had been running dry. He wasn’t necessarily desperate, just needed the warmth and comfort of a suitable woman.

The concert ended, and as always, the group had served well and performed fantastically. The energy was thriving and the atmosphere was filled with screams as each member waved goodbye.

Finally, it was all done.

“Well…we got two more days here until we fly back. We gonna do anything?” Jake inquires openly as he high-fives each member.

“Niki and I were going to go try out this restaurant. They charge $300 per steak.”

“Oh I heard about that place. Don’t they have a year-long waitlist?”

“Manager got us in.”

Heeseung pretended to be asleep, propping his head against the window as his arms remained firmly crossed against his chest. His ears pricked up as he overheard the ongoing conversation inside the van.

After arriving at the hotel, everyone went into their respective rooms. As usual, Heeseung had a room entirely by himself, which he and the members were instructed to tell the fans that it was all due to chance of winning “Rock, Paper, Scissors” when in reality, the eldest of the group receives such privileges as customary within the industry. But for the sake of reflecting the bond and “softness” within their image, the company deemed it better to lie about the room assignments.

He tosses his leather jacket aside as it flops onto the chair backing. Exhaustion took over his entire body as he threw himself on the bed. His eyes slowly open as he reaches for his phone, half of his face still buried into the plush bedding as he explores his pocket and dig it out. There was no way he could spend another night alone, taking care of his needs by hand. WIth as many callouses he had, there was no way he could even make it feel natural or good, there wasn’t enough lotion in the world that could cover up and mend the roughness of his hardworking skin.

“We need to talk.” was all he types in before sending off the message.

A few moments pass before he hears the knocking at his door. “Well that was fast…Mr. Manager.” he softly whispers while lifting his body off the bed.

“Heeseung, what’s up?”

“Need you to come inside for a second.” Heeseung nonchalantly spoke out as he turned and lazily plops himself on the couch. HIs manager followed closely behind and took a seat across, looking at the young man intently before raising the concern yet again. “Everything alright?”

“You really have to ask?” Heeseung peeks from under his elbow as he drapes an arm over his eyes. He really didn’t like to make eye contact when it came to the topic of girls and dating…and this wasn’t going to be any easier. “I need a woman…”

“.....you mean….a date?” his manager tries to confirm, before a snappy Heeseung gently corrects him.

“Not to date….I need a woman…I need skin…flesh…hair….and nails to dig into my skin with a feminine voice to scream out my name.”

“....so you want a prostitute?”

“NOT A PROSTITUTE!” on the verge of losing it, Heeseung sits up rather abruptly as he squares his gaze over to his manager. He really wasn’t trying to be impatient or unpleasant, he was in a vulnerable state of mind. No man should ever go so long without feel the pleasures of someone else’s body, especially someone who is constantly surrounded by all these pretty little fans that were filling his mind with all sorts of sordid thoughts….them with their perfect makeup, the sweet fragrances of their perfume and those damn long and elegant acrylic nails. Day in and day out, he’s surrounded by feminine energy, it all contributed to this sexual demise he was falling into. “I’m just going to put it this way….if you don’t find me someone that can keep their mouth shut, and spend one night with me, then I am going to lose it. I’m on the verge of doing reckless things, and I can’t control it. Just find me someone that isn’t a prude but isn’t desperate.”

The manager knew Heeseung well enough to know when the young man was on the road to destruction, this was one of them. The heat of anger coming from his eyes was enough to tell him what he had to do. The hardest factor about this thing is finding someone suitable, not only in appearance but in their manners; he’d have to be cunning and covert.

Five hours in, he nearly fell to the ground in defeat when suddenly…

“Excuse me, Sir?”

“Hm? Yes?”

“You dropped this back at the last walkway.”

“Oh!...Thank you….”

You turned to continue on with your own business when the gentleman spoke out in haste, you had assumed it was because he wanted to thank you once again for returning his wallet, but the tune of his wording made you realize that that wasn’t the case.

“Young lady, I have a proposition for you…do you have a minute?”

…………………….

A half hour later, after an internal hesitant debate, you caved in at the young man’s offer. You weren’t the type to ever hook up with a random man, even an idol, but the fact that you had been running dry since your last break up over a year ago, and not to mention the exquisite monetary offer that would cover three months of your rent, which would leave you that much stress free from everything else going on. Your final year in college has been more demanding than the previous, so much that you had to quit your part time job, which left you struggling financially. All of this led to the perfect combination of desperation, sexually frustrated, and mentally drained. By the time he mentioned that a non-disclosure agreement would mandate that both you and the idol would refrain from exposing your identities, you accepted.

Expressing that you wanted to get it done and over with, the man took you to the lavish hotel room, the most expensive in your home country. You weren’t entirely sure how you felt, being taken to an extremely fancy hotel room to meet a young and handsome performer and spend one night with him…for sex. Should you bail out now?

“We’re here. Here’s the key card, it’s on the third floor, room number 306.”

You take the key card and paused, thinking for a moment if you should just tell him that the deal was off. But the subtle push over towards the elevator pretty much sealed your night.

You walked through the narrow corridor, staring at the gold engraving of the numbers on the key card. With a deep breath, you gently knocked on the door before inserting the key. “Hello?” you gently speak out as you open the door. The entire room was dimmed with a golden hue with no one in sight; the massive bed topped with goose feather pillows and comforter sets up an enticing welcome as you breach closer to the main layout.

“Well hello.”

You turned in haste upon hearing the deep voice from behind, and saw him. He was leaning back against the wall, behind the door panel side. No wonder you didn’t see him when entering, the wide door swing provided enough cover for him to remain elusive yet still having enough sight to observe how delectable you look. His manager outdid himself.

“Oh…hi…I’m sorry…my name is–”

“Y/N…”

“Y-yeah…”

The manager must have already texted the idol your name. You couldn’t lie, this entire thing was uncomfortable, and you were on the verge of backing out when the man started to walk over, stepping into the warm light. He had a handsome face, and was tall…very tall, but of all things that got to you, was the glaring look he had in his eye. He looked hungry, famished even, with the way he stroked his finger across his lips as he tilted his chin downard, arms loosely crossed as he took each step steadily.

“Um…I’m not sure…if I should–”

“You’re already here…might as well get it going.”

He grabbed onto your shoulders, proceeding to walk forward as he herd’s you backwards until your back meets the opposite wall. He really was hungry, and unfortunately for you, it was contagious. WIth the way his hands roamed all over our body, the way his mouth immediately latched onto your throat, and the way his fingers ripped your blouse apart, sending buttons flying all over, he was a demon tainting every sense of rationality in your mind and you loved it. Still, you were experiencing hesitancy, but the moment he peeled your bra down and began sucking on your nipples, leaving squelching kisses the soft skin on your mounds. “W-wait…”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he drags you down onto the ground, pushing you back to lay you down, leaving you completely vulnerable. He had to be hurting with the way he was feasting on your body, so much that you wondered exactly just how long he had gone without it, and was it longer than you?

“I-I…” was all you could manage to stutter when he started to lift your skirt, ruffling it around your waist as he fingers the damask lining of your thigh high stockings. With a mouthful of your skin, he muffles his burning desire. “Stop trying to push me away…I’ve been hurting for so long.”

You ignored his words as you continued to create some distance. You were torn, he felt so good rubbing your curves but also made you feel scared with how pushy and forceful he was becoming. You nearly screamed out when the sudden warmth of soft, plush lips tenderly kissed your clitoris. Being so caught up with his mannerisms, you hadn’t realized that he dragged and tore your panties off, leaving you bare and exposed. The way his tongue circulated around and pressed in between the folds of your womanhood caused you to drop your hands to your side, no longer putting up any resistance. He kept going, licking and twirling his tongue around, making your head spin vigorously as he committed the only gentle act of the night, which was placing his hands on your inner thighs and pushing them apart as he buried his face deeper into your core.

You moaned out in extreme ecstasy, arching your back and digging your hips downward. You gulped down hard swallows as you try to catch your breath, but the sensation of his nose and mouth inducing the most pleasure you’ve felt in over a year had you inadvertently suppressing screams, choking on your own breaths.

“O-oh!...Oh my God! P-please!” You dug your fingernails into the floorboard, squinting your eyes shut as you gasped out your moans, he went in faster and flickered his tongue deeper while shoving it inside your cavity. Groaning out his pleasures, he growls as he thrusts it in and out. He closes your legs together, pressing them closer to your chest as he wraps his arms around your thighs, still slurping and thrusting his oral muscle. Propping his stature on the caps of his knees, he hugs your thighs close to his chest as he lifts your derriere from off the floor as he brings you closer to the edge. HIs face shoved in against your taint, his slick tongue going in and out at a vigorous momentum, the faint echoes of his cheeks slapping into you as the impact caused your body to shift up while he had you partially levitated did you in, and you screamed out your moans. With your thighs shook, lips quivered, and chest heaving, you laid restlessly as the hot stream of fresh tears escaped from the outer corners of your closed eyes. Your heavy breathing became a rewarding sight as he remained in his kneeling position, unbuckling his belt. A smirk creeps up on his face as he sheds off his attire, chuckling in a demeaning manner as he looks down at you, somewhat pitifully and yet adoringly.

“Oh pretty thing…the night is just getting started. Got a lot of pent up frustration in me, and unfortunately, I’m about to take it out all on you. Now…grab it…and scream out my name.”

……………………..

Days had passed since that night, and you still felt sore in between your legs. It was stingy, yet the pulsating rampage also reminded you of the greatest pleasure you had felt in all your life. Not even your ex-boyfriend, the one who was known to frequent the college campus girls, could even make you feel remotely as good. Must be an idol thing, either that or there must be something in the water in South Korea. Too bad you’ll never see him again.

You were making your way over towards the bus station ahead, when a large crowd blocked your way.

“Oh come on…” you tilted your head left, and right, all to find a small loophole within the bustling groups of young girls screaming their heads off and flashing dozens of pictures. You shuffled your way through, not paying any mind to your surroundings, when all of a sudden a young fellow dressed in black approaches you.

“Miss y/n?”

“Yes?...who are you?”

The man declines to answer, instead, he hands you a folded piece of paper. You unfolded it to read the contents, looking rather confused.

‘Hey pretty thing, you free tonight?’

Looking up, the staff member smiles as he points to the side, indicating for you to look in that direction. Turning your head over shoulder, you were stunned to see the man from the other night, the idol who violated you with his tongue and cock, had you begging for more until the wee hours of the early morning. It was him…

“Oh my God is he looking at me?!”

“No he’s looking at me!”

“Heeseung! Heeseung!”

All the girls waved and jumped, but the direct eye contact and small smirk told you of who he truly was looking at. He sends off a wink which had all the girls pool into an emotional and hormonal mess, leaving only you standing upright, with his eyes still looking directly into your own, he silently mouths out the words to you.

“My…pretty….thing.”

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parkerslatte · 4 months

Text

Needles

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: needles.

Summary: After Y/N and Elain tease Azriel for his aversion to getting a piercing, Y/N finds out the reason why.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The sun was setting over Velaris as Y/N pushed the needle through Elain’s earlobe before securing the jewellery in place. She leaned back to admire her work with a smile. Y/N reached to the side and held up a mirror in front of Elain’s smiling face. The middle Archeron sister gasped.

“Oh, Y/N, they are beautiful!” Elain exclaimed. “Thank you!”

Y/N smiled. “I’m glad you like them.” Elain jumped from the seat and wrapped Y/N in a hug. Y/N returned it happily.

“I’ve wanted to get more piercings but I’m afraid they will hurt,” Elain confessed, looking into the mirror again.

Y/N gestured to her own ears, decorated in an array of gold earrings and chains. “Don’t look to me if you want an honest opinion on whether they hurt or not because I don’t really remember or I have just gotten used to it. But I remember, this one,” Y/N pointed to a piercing wrapping around the top of her ear, “hurt when I got it but it was nothing but a dull ache within a few days. Perks of fast healing.”

Elain studied her ears carefully. “Do you think it would suit me?”

Y/N smiled brightly. “Of course! Anything would suit you!”

Elain blushed before looking back at Y/N. “Would you be able to do it for me?”

Y/N clasped her hands together happily. “Yes! Are you still sticking with gold? Or do you want to switch it up with silver?”

“Gold,” Elain answered. “I like it better.”

“Gold it is then.”

While Y/N was gathering a fresh needle and an array of different earrings for Elain to choose from, the bell to her shop rang, signalling someone walking in. Y/N silently cursed, she hadn’t thought to lock the door after flipping around the closed sign in her excitement to pierce Elain’s ears.

“Sorry,” Y/N called through the shop. “We’re closed.”

“Even for me?” The smooth voice of the shadowsinger called through the shop.

Y/N smiled, placed the needle down on the table and spun around to face her mate. “I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow morning.”

“Rhys called me back early,” Azriel responded, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Apparently the mission wasn’t entirely worth it.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and pecked his lips. He smiled, that one dimple on his cheek standing out proudly. She had missed that smile in the days he had been away.

“I was hoping to surprise you but Rhys told me you were here with Elain,” Azriel said, his hands falling to grasp her hips.

Y/N nodded. “She asked me to pierce her ears. Of course I happily obliged.”

Azriel chuckled and pressed his lips to hers. Y/N melted into it, holding him within her arms tightly. She could stay this easy forever. Azriel attempted to deepen the kiss as his tongue poked out to run across the seam of her lips but, reluctantly, Y/N pulled away. Azriel huffed in disappointment.

“We can continue that later,” Y/N said and stepped away from Azriel and gathered the supplies. “But Elain is waiting in the other room. You can come and watch if you like.”

Y/N walked out of the storage room and into the next where she had left Elain. Azriel followed behind her. “I have a few earrings for you to choose from.”

“Hi, Azriel,” Elain said as Azriel stepped into the room behind Y/N, taking a seat opposite her. “When did you return? Y/N said you weren’t supposed to get abc until tomorrow.”

“Mission was called off,” Azriel answered, leaning back in the chair comfortably. “How did Y/N pressure you into piercing your ears?”

Elain rolled her eyes. “She didn’t pressure me. I wanted to get them pierced.”

“I doubt that,” Azriel’s retorted`. “She basically pressured Cass for her to pierce his ears.”

“And he loves them,” Y/N defended with a smile. “So did Rhys, Feyre, Nesta, Mor and even Amren, well I assume so anyway.”

Elain smirked. “You're the only one without any piercings now, Azriel. Are you afraid of the needle or something?”

Y/N snorted and Azriel huffed. “I am not afraid of a silly needle. I just don’t want my ears pierced.”

“Afraid it will threaten your look?” Y/N teased and Azriel sent her a playful glare. “Perhaps it would, the big bad shadowsinger parading around with floral jewellery in his ears.”

Y/N and Elain laughed and Azriel folded his arms across his chest, trying to feign annoyance. The smile on Y/N’s face faltered for a brief moment, afraid that she took the teasing too far but as soon as she felt the wave of love he sent through the bond, the smile returned.

***

When Elain left the shop, Y/N and Azriel were finally left alone together. As soon as she locked the door, Azriel spun her around in his arms and hungrily pressed his lips against hers. Y/N sighed and fully let herself lean into Azriel as he lifted her to place her on top of the counter, wedging himself between her thighs.

Y/N’s hands caressed his head and the back of his neck as she deepened the kiss, arching her back to press her chest against his. The grip Azriel had on her hips only tightened. Y/N missed the feeling of his hands on her. She had been deprived of it for nearly a week and she was sure that if he had been gone any longer, she would go mad.

The moment Azriel began to pepper kisses along her jaw, she knew that she would willingly submit to anything he wanted to do. Azriel could name absolutely anything in the world and she would happily comply.

“I love your piercings,” Azriel whispered into her ear, lips brushing over the only part that wasn’t pierced.

A shiver went down Y/N’s spine as she dug her fingertips into his shoulders. “I know you do, you go crazy for them all the time.”

The laugh that slipped from Azriel was low as he pulled away from Y/N a little to look her in the eye. In the low lighting of the shop, her jewellery glimmered. Even the bracelets and rings that decorated her hands seemed to glow. Y/N watched as Azriel pressed soft kisses on the inside of her wrist, never once breaking eye contact.

“My offer still stands,” Y/N said lowly. “I have pierced every member of the Inner Circle but you.”

There was a small flash of fear in Azriel’s eyes, he thought he disguised it but Y/N noticed it as she smirked. “You are afraid aren’t you? Elain was right when she said you were afraid.”

Azriel scoffed. “I’m not afraid of the piercing,” he looked uncertain and avoided eye contact as he finished his sentence. “I’m afraid of the needle.”

Y/N threw her head back as she laughed. Azriel pulled away from her and folded her arms across his chest. “It’s not funny.”

“Come on, it’s a little funny,” Y/N said, still giggling. “What would Rhys and Cassian say that their big tough shadowsinger is afraid of needles.”

“They wouldn’t let me live it down,” Azriel said, pulling her close so he could nip at the tip of her ear. “So don’t tell them.”

Y/N still continued to giggle. “Okay, I won’t!”

As her laughs subsided, she finally looked at Azriel. “Do you want a piercing?”

“I do,” Azriel admitted. “I have for a while. I just didn’t want to tell you I was afraid of needles.”

“Az, you can tell me anything,” Y/N said, squeezing his hands. “Of course if it's ridiculous I’m going to tease you a little, but you can tell me anything. You don’t need to hide from me.”

Azriel sighed. “I just didn’t want you to think any different of me.”

Y/N cupped his cheeks, thumbs gently brushing his cheekbones. “Of course I wouldn’t. Everyone has a fear, no matter how big or small. Although considering your line of work, I wouldn’t expect it to be needles.”

Azriel huffed but smiled soon after. “So will you pierce my ears?”

Y/N pecked his lips. “Of course, my love.”

***

Y/N stood in front of Azriel making sure the markers for where she would pierce his ears were even. His hands held onto her thighs. The needle hadn’t even been picked up yet Azriel was on edge.

“We don’t need to do this if you don’t want to, Az.” Y/N said softly. “If this is just you trying to prove yourself after Elain and I teased you—”

“It’s not,” Azriel said. “I want you to pierce my ears. I trust you.”

Y/N smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to kiss forehead. “I’m glad.”

As Y/N grabbed the needle the grip Azriel had on her thighs tightened. “Relax,” she whispered and his grip slackened the smallest amount.

Azriel closed his eyes as Y/N placed the needle against the point she marked. “Okay, three, two, one–” Y/N pushed the needle through and Azriel’s hands clamped down on her thighs as his eyes screwed shut.

Y/N threaded her fingers in his hair. “Are you okay, my love?”

Azriel hummed but didn’t open his eyes. Y/N pressed another kiss to his forehead before sliding the jewellery into the hole and pushed the backing onto it. “There’s one done. Are you sure you want to do the other? You don’t need to.”

Azriel nodded as he looked at her. His eyes were a little red and there were some unshed tears, most likely from the surprise, in his eyes. “I want you to do the other one.”

Y/N nodded and compiled. The second piercing was done just as quickly as the first but the grip Azriel had on Y/N didn’t slacken. “Az, are you okay?”

His gaze lifted to hers, the earrings glimmering in the light. “I’m okay. Can I see them?”

With one hand, Y/N grabbed the mirror and with the other she caressed his cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

Azriel beamed at the praise. Y/N stepped back the smallest amount and held the mirror in front of Azriel. His smile only grew wider once he admired the new piercings. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

The grin on Y/N’s face was wide as she placed the mirror down. She situated herself on his thigh. Azriel’s hands found their place around her waist. “I must say that you look irresistible, Az.”

“So I wasn’t irresistible before?” Azriel questioned, a teasing grin on his face.

“Of course you were,” Y/N said. “But now…now you are in for a long, hard night.”

Azriel smirked. “If I knew piercing my ears would gauge this reaction from you, I would have done it years ago.”

Y/N chuckled. “I didn’t know I would react this way but…I desperately need you in our bed right now.”

Azriel stood from the chair, taking Y/N with him. “Then let’s go.”

Just as Azriel was about to winnow away, Y/N jumped out of his arms. “Wait!”

She ran into her storage room and grabbed a few more things for Azriel, running back to where he was standing rather quickly.

“Hold out your hands,” Y/N said and Azriel complied.

Y/N slid a few rings onto his fingers. “You always say you love my rings, love how they feel on you. So tonight, I want to try something.”

The smirk on Azriel’s face was devilish as he admired the new decoration on his hands. From the look on his face, Y/N could tell he liked it.

“Maybe I should start wearing jewellery all the time if you react like this,” Azriel muttered, lifting her into his arms.

Y/N locked her legs around his hips. “I wouldn’t be one to complain.”

When their lips connected, Azriel winnowed them away.

#azriel fluff #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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estapa-edwards · 21 days

Text

SECOND CHANCE - L.HUGHES

paring: Luke Hughes x fem! reader

word count: 1.5k

requested? yes- “do you… love me, by any chance?” “yeah, why?” “well, i’m sorry, i was just— WAIT WHAT—” w/ Luke Hughes!

warnings: use of y/n. established relationship.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The New Jersey Devils were facing off against their arch-rivals, the New York Rangers, in a crucial divisional matchup. As always, I was in the stands, proudly wearing Luke's jersey and cheering him on. The atmosphere was electric, with both teams battling fiercely for every puck and every goal.

Midway through the second period, tensions on the ice began to escalate. A controversial call by the referees led to a power play for the Rangers, much to the dismay of the Devils and their fans. Luke, who was on the ice at the time, was visibly frustrated and exchanged heated words with the officials.

As the game continued, I couldn't shake off a feeling of unease. I knew that Luke was a passionate player who wore his heart on his sleeve, but tonight, his emotions seemed to be getting the best of him. When the Devils failed to kill off the penalty and the Rangers scored a go-ahead goal, Luke's frustration reached a boiling point.

With less than a minute remaining in the period, Luke was involved in a heated altercation with an opposing player. As fists flew and players from both teams rushed to join the fray, I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew that this was not the kind of player Luke wanted to be, and I was worried about the repercussions of his actions.

After the game, I waited nervously for Luke outside the locker room. When he finally emerged, his face was flushed with anger and disappointment. Without saying a word, I took his hand and led him away from the crowd, hoping to find a quiet place where we could talk.

We ended up in a secluded corner of the arena, far away from the prying eyes of fans and reporters. I could see the frustration in Luke's eyes, and I knew that this was the perfect opportunity to address the issues that had been brewing between us.

"Luke, what happened out there tonight?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm and steady.

"I lost my cool, okay? I let my emotions get the best of me, and it cost us the game," he replied, his voice tinged with regret.

"I understand that you're passionate about the game, but you need to control your temper," I said firmly. "You're a role model for so many young players, and you can't let your emotions dictate your actions on the ice."

Luke sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the ground. "I know, Y/N. I know I messed up, and I'm sorry."

As much as I wanted to comfort Luke and tell him that everything would be okay, I couldn't ignore the underlying issues that had been causing tension in our relationship. I took a deep breath and decided to address them head-on.

"Luke, this isn't just about tonight's game," I said, choosing my words carefully. "We've been arguing a lot lately, and I feel like we're drifting apart."What do you mean?" Luke asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"I mean that we've been struggling to communicate and understand each other," I replied, trying to articulate my feelings without placing blame. "Between your demanding schedule with the Devils and the pressures of our personal lives, it feels like we've been growing apart. I miss the connection we used to have, and I think we need to address these issues before they drive a wedge between us."

Luke's expression softened as he absorbed my words, realizing the gravity of the situation. "I didn't realize things had gotten this bad between us, Y/N," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "I've been so focused on hockey and trying to prove myself on the ice that I haven't been giving our relationship the attention it deserves."

"I understand that your career is important, Luke, and I'm proud of everything you've accomplished," I said, reaching out to gently touch his arm.

"I understand that your career is important, Luke, and I'm proud of everything you've accomplished," I said, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "But maybe we should take a break from being together."

Luke looked at me, his eyes widening in surprise. "A break? Are you serious, Y/N?"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "I just think we need some time apart to figure things out. We've been arguing a lot lately, and it feels like we're not on the same page. I care about you, Luke, but I think we both need some space to evaluate what we want from this relationship."

Luke's expression hardened, and I could see the hurt and confusion in his eyes. "I thought we were doing okay, Y/N. I didn't realize you were feeling this way."

"I've been trying to communicate my feelings to you, but it seems like we keep hitting a wall," I replied, my voice trembling slightly. "I think a break could give us the opportunity to reflect on our relationship and determine if we're truly compatible or if it's time to go our separate ways."

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair as he contemplated my words. "I don't want to lose you, Y/N, but I also don't want to force you into something you're not comfortable with. If you think a break is what's best for us, then I guess we should give it a try."

As we stood there, facing each other in the dimly lit corridor of the arena, I felt a mix of emotions - sadness, uncertainty, and a glimmer of hope. While I knew that suggesting a break was a risky move, I also believed that it was necessary to address the issues that had been causing tension and discord in our relationship.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

Despite the agreement, the days that followed were tough for both of us. The absence of each other was more palpable than we had anticipated. Every time I heard a knock on the door or the sound of footsteps in the hallway, my heart would race, hoping it was Luke. The silence between us grew louder with each passing day, and the empty space beside me in bed felt colder than ever.

One evening, as I was preparing dinner in my apartment, there was a sudden knock on the door. My heart skipped a beat, and a rush of emotions flooded over me. Could it be Luke? I hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, before walking over to the door and cautiously opening it.

To my surprise and relief, there stood Luke, looking slightly disheveled and clearly out of breath. His eyes met mine, filled with a mix of longing and uncertainty.

"Luke, what are you doing here?" I asked, trying to maintain a sense of composure despite the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling.

"I couldn't stay away, Y/N," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I know we agreed to take a break, but I've been miserable without you. I miss you, and I needed to see you."

I looked into Luke's eyes and saw the sincerity and vulnerability that I had missed so much. Despite our decision to take a step back, it was clear that we were both struggling to stay apart.

"Come in," I said softly, stepping aside to let him enter my apartment.

Luke stepped inside, and I closed the door behind him, enveloping us in a moment of tension and uncertainty. We stood there, facing each other, as the reality of our situation sank in.

"Do you… love me, by any chance?" I finally blurted out, unable to hold back any longer.

Luke looked taken aback by my question. "Yeah, why?" he replied, his voice filled with confusion.

"Well, I'm sorry, I was just— WAIT, WHAT—"

Before I could finish my sentence, Luke closed the distance between us, cupping my face in his hands and pressing his lips against mine in a passionate kiss. The world seemed to fade away as we lost ourselves in the moment, our doubts and uncertainties melting away as our love for each other shone through.

As we pulled apart, gasping for breath, Luke looked into my eyes and spoke from the heart. "I do love you, Y/N. I'm sorry it took us this long to say it, but I want you to know that my feelings for you are real and true."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I wrapped my arms around Luke, pulling him close. "I love you too, Luke," I whispered, my voice filled with emotion. "And I'm sorry for doubting us. Let's promise to work through our issues together and make our relationship stronger than ever."

Luke smiled, his eyes shining with happiness and relief. "I promise, Y/N. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us."

Over the next few weeks, Luke and I made it a priority to nurture our relationship, setting aside time for each other amidst his demanding hockey schedule and my own commitments. We went on dates, explored new activities together, and most importantly, communicated openly and honestly about our feelings and concerns.

#luke hughes #nhl x reader #new jersey devils #nj devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic

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coochiequeens · 1 year

Text

An update to an older story that’s goods news!

When Jenny Nguyen signed the lease to create her dream bar, she wasn’t sure it would stay open for more than a few months.

But earlier this month, 43-year-old Nguyen’s first-of-its-kind establishment in Portland, Oregon, celebrated its one-year anniversary. Aptly named The Sports Bra, it’s a sports bar where only women athletes appear on the TVs.

Business has been good, despite the niche business model and record inflation sending food and beverage prices soaring. The Sports Bra brought in $944,000 in revenue in the eight months it was open in 2022, according to documents reviewed by CNBC Make It.

It was profitable in that first year of business, Nguyen adds.

“It turns out, it’s pretty universal — that feeling of being a women’s sports fan and going into a public place, like a sports bar, and having a difficult time finding a place to show a [women’s] game, especially when there are other men’s sports playing,” Nguyen says.

Initially, she wasn’t sure the idea would work at all. The vast majority of money and attention historically goes to men’s sports only — a big reason why The Sports Bra was reportedly the country’s first bar to only play women’s sports on TV.

It’s also not the kind of thing Nguyen would ordinarily do: She describes herself as “very cautious, risk averse.” But her obsession with women’s sports and frustration with its lack of representation on television screens drove her to empty her life savings — about $27,000 — and give it a try.

“Me, personally, I thought the idea was brilliant and that [it was] what the world needs,” Nguyen says. “But I had no idea that the world would want it. I just wanted to give it a shot.”

How The Sports Bra went from running joke to reality

Nguyen is a lifelong basketball fan who played the sport at Clark College in Vancouver, Washington, before tearing her ACL. She’s also a longtime restaurant worker who spent three years as Reed College’s executive chef.

In 2018, Nguyen and a group of friends wanted to watch the NCAA women’s basketball championship game. They went to a mostly empty sports bar and still had to plead with a bartender to switch one of the smallest TVs — which played without sound — from a men’s sport to the women’s championship game, she recalls.

Together, they jumped up and down celebrating “one of the best games I’ve ever seen,” Nguyen says, as a buzzer-beating three-point shot sealed the championship title for Notre Dame. Afterward, she was struck by the normalcy of her situation.

″[We’d] gotten so used to watching a game like that in the way that we did,” she says, adding that they’d only find better viewing conditions “if we had our own place.”

Days later, she channeled her disappointment into a hypothetical: What would she name her bar? “The very first thing that came into my mind was The Sports Bra,” Nguyen says. “And once I thought it, I couldn’t un-think it, you know? It was catchy. I thought it was hilarious.”

For years, she joked about it. Then, the fallout from social justice movements like #MeToo and the country’s racial reckoning after George Floyd’s murder left her wanting to make a meaningful impact on the world and her community.

Nguyen, who came out as a lesbian at age 17, says she doesn’t always feel welcome at most traditional sports bars. The Sports Bra could help her, and anyone else who’d rarely felt accepted in other sports establishments, feel like she belonged.

“I thought about, if we can even get one kid in here and have them feel like they belong in sports, it’d be worth it,” she says.

Helping other women’s sports bars get started

At first, Nguyen had her savings, and $40,000 in loans cobbled together from friends and family. That would keep The Sports Bra afloat for three months, based on her cost estimates for labor, inventory and other overhead.

In February 2022, she launched a Kickstarter to raise $48,000 — enough money for an extra six-month financial cushion, to build up the sort of regular clientele any bar or restaurant needs to survive long-term.

To Nguyen’s surprise, the campaign raised more than $105,000 in just 30 days, thanks to a viral article in online food publication Eater. “At that moment, when I was looking at that Kickstarter graph, I thought to myself, ‘This might work,’” she says.

But the money, which came from around the country and world, was no guarantee of success. Actual people in Portland still needed to frequent the bar.

Today, there’s often a line out the door. Women’s basketball icons like Sue Bird and Diana Taurasi showed up, for an event sponsored by Buick, earlier this month. Ginny Gilder, co-owner of the WNBA’s Seattle Storm, has even waited in line to watch her team play on The Sports Bra’s TVs, Nguyen says.

That’s a far cry from the Kickstarter days, which Nguyen says only happened after she was denied business loans by multiple banks and small business associations. The denials commonly cited the high risk of a unique concept run by a first-time entrepreneur during a pandemic, she adds.

Even the bar’s core concept is a struggle: It’s hard to find enough women’s sporting events to fill up the televisions. Only about 5% of all TV sports coverage focuses on female athletes, according to a 2021 University of Southern California study.

Nguyen says she’s taken to reaching out directly to sports networks and streaming services, some of which have hooked her up with access to more women’s sports content. She also spends an inordinate amount of time “scouring” TV listings, a process she likens to “taking a machete and chopping through a jungle.”

But she’s no longer alone. Another bar specializing in women’s sports has opened in nearby Seattle, and Nguyen says she’s in touch with a handful of other prospective entrepreneurs asking her for advice on opening similar visions in other cities.

“I would love to have as many people experience the feeling people experience when they walk through these doors,” she says. “It feels very selfish to keep it to this one building that holds 40 people at a time.”

#USA #oregon #Portland #jenny nguyen #The Sports Bra #A sports bar for women and women’s sports #She was originally denied business loans

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