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#but clearly patience is key
pearwaldorf · 4 months
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I hate that you can't see a tweet thread anymore if you're not logged into Twitter (as a gesture of disrespect I refuse to call it by its rebranded name). Here is a copypasta of a thread from Dan Olson, a Canadian documentary filmmaker, expanding upon camera quality, the guilt trips Somerton used to goose his Patreon subscriptions, and how the best tools will never make up for lack of dedication or patience. I have added clarifications in [[double brackets]] where I feel it is necessary.
START OF THREAD
Okay, so, back in April I snapped at James in reply to a tweet that was linking to this video (which James has since delisted but not deleted) and I want to talk about the full context of that but I don't want to make a video, put your beatdown memes away. [[The video has since been deleted. I can see the title of the video is "Maybe the end (not an April Fool's Day thing".]]
The first bit of context is that I initially got keyed into James to fact-check his claims about indie filmmaking in Canada. As a filmmaker the entire Telos venture was immediately obvious as a juvenile fantasy dreamed up by someone with no idea how to make a movie.
Just wild claims about their plans that weren't worth debunking because they bordered Not Even Wrong. But in watching one of these pitch videos I noticed that he had a $4000 current-gen camera in the background as a prop, and that seemed both pretentious and weird.
You don't use your best camera as a prop, you use your second best camera as a prop. So being an obsessive weirdo I needed to know, and I watched his BTS stuff until I spotted his main rig, a $6000 camera with about $1000 in accessories.
Now, these in isolation are unremarkable because his Patreon at the time was bringing in ~$8000 per month, his channel was a full on Business business, and so investing in some professional equipment of that level is maybe a bit indulgent but justifiable.
What was weird is that he doesn't shoot multi-cam, doesn't shoot outdoors, doesn't shoot on location, and in a studio the two cameras kinda really step on each others' toes. Basically if you already have one and don't need a B cam there's no reason to get the other.
Again, on its own, this says nothing, it's just indicative of poor financial decisions, maybe impulsive purchasing, Gear Acquisition Syndrome. Biblical sins, but not crimes.
Paired with the constantly inflating fantasy scope of the Telos films it was clearly an expression of a very, very common bad filmmaker habit of "if I just get the right gear then my movie will basically make itself" Buying stuff because it feels like progress.
At the end of February he tweets "I want to start shooting anamorphic" and then three weeks later in March he posts the worst, out of focus, under-exposed "I just got a new lens!" video I've ever seen, showing off his trash-covered bedroom.
Based on what's available for his cameras and the lead time, that's enough time to get a Laowa Nanomorph or Sirui Saturn from B&H but not enough time to get a Great Joy from the UK or a Vazen from China. And with the flaring blah blah blah, $1300 lens.
Again, [gear acquisition syndrome] is not a crime and these lenses are budget options. Bit of a pointless impulse purchase since he only used it for the Showgirls video. But this is what he was doing just a few weeks before that above video came out: effortlessly impulse purchasing lenses.
James has (had?) a habit of regularly, aggressively driving viewers to Patreon by claiming that videos were getting demonetized. While tacky, it is something a lot of queer YouTubers have dealt with, so there's precedent there. But people were noticing he did it a lot.
Mid-March he humble brags about needing to work so hard to make 6 videos in April because he has over-booked sponsorships.
Then March 29th James posts this whole incel screed on Twitter about how sex work should be "subsidized as a mental health service."
[two image descriptions.
1. "For the majority of people sex (and human contact) can be imperative to a healthy state of mind. A kind and talented sex worker can make someone feel wanted for the first time in their life. I know sex workers who have pulled people back from suicide just by being there for them." 2. "Not only should (sex work) be legal, but it should be subsidized as a mental health service."]
He spends several days getting absolutely *roasted* for this, just dragged across the pavement and read for filth, and doubles down in the replies the whole way.
So this is the context immediately surrounding James waking up on Friday, and posts the above video and the below tweet.
[image description: "We just got the lowest Patreon payout we've gotten in well over a year. Like, a "maybe we need to rethink things" kind of amount... NOT an April Fools Day thing btw. But I don't know if we'll be making videos much longer."]
Now, this unfolds in kinda two directions. The first is that I'm convinced he was just lying about this income shock in the first place.
There's a million theoretical edge cases about what maybe happened and if maybe he just misunderstood the data or saw a glitch and panicked, maybe one of those happened, I don't believe it, I think he just lied because he was salty about getting dragged and felt owed a win.
A big tell to me is that he doesn't blame Patreon. He says he doesn't know what happened, but let's be real, Patreon screws up all the time, they're the first people anyone blames if anything confusing happens, just as a reflex action, even if it's completely not their fault.
The only reason to not blame Patreon is if you already know that it's not their fault and that any investigation on their part might reveal embarrassing details.
Instead he indirectly blames his viewers for not watching enough, not sharing enough, and not turning on auto-renew.
So regardless of the unknowable truth, this segues into the second, far more offensive direction of the messaging itself. "I don't know if we'll be making videos much longer." "Maybe the end" He explicitly framed this as an immediate existential threat to his channel.
In the video he is vague about everything, leaves a ton of hazy room for plausible deniability on how long the channel can keep going, but the messaging is "I need more patrons right this minute or my YouTube channel is over."
He repeatedly evokes all the "fun stuff" they had planned that would never see the light of day if this didn't turn around right away.
And his audience received this message loud and clear. Tons of people making far, far, far less than him left very heartfelt messages about digging a little deeper to subscribe or up their pledge or unsubscribe from other channels to move their pledge to his.
1200 new patrons in one day.
Since I simply don't believe the income shock was real in the first place that would put his post-"Maybe the end" Patreon income at around $10,000 per month. US. Add YouTube income, he's spent the last seven months making around $18,000 per month.
I have seen creators scale back their capabilities to the bone purely to keep making videos for the love of just, like, making stuff even as their funding evaporated and they needed to go back to a desk job to cover their bills.
You'd have to be so outstandingly reckless with your finances as a channel that a one month spook leads immediately to "channel over, sorry about all the fun stuff we won't get to do with you, our patrons, specifically because you, our patrons, aren't giving us enough money"
And not a spook where you then spend a couple weeks crunching numbers. Oh no. A shock so violent where less than two hours later you're weeping on camera about the channel being over.
Three weeks later he brought a brand new Sony FX6v for $8000 CAD to add to his pile of cinema cameras despite the fact that he was, but scant moments earlier, in such a precarious position that a single bad month would kill his channel.
He stole your money, and for that I'm profoundly sad and angry. That's why I snapped at him in April. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the full context then, and I'm sorry if that anger upset you.
END OF THREAD
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natalievoncatte · 7 months
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It took four calls before Lena answered. It crawled across her side table, vibrating angrily like some persnickety insect until she gave it the attention she wanted.
You could just turn it off.
“What do you want, Danvers?”
Alex’s voice was thick.
“We can’t find Kara.”
Lena let out a slow, long, theatrical sigh. “So now you’re accusing me of crimes over the phone. At least your ex had the courtesy to cuff me in person.”
Alex’s patience was clearly short enough, and wearing thinner.
“I’m not calling you to accuse you. I’m calling you to ask for help.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because she’s burned out her powers and we can’t find her, Luthor. Supergirl is missing and she’s powerless.”
Lena licked her lips.
“Is this some kind of weird test to see if I’ll try to kill her? An entrapment scheme or something?”
“First of all,” said Alex, “fuck you.”
“Mutual,” said Lena. “What was the second part?”
“The second part is that I know you. I know you’re pissed off at her. I also know that you don’t react the way you’ve acted because your BFF lied to you, Lena. Just like I know that buying a $875 million company isn’t what friends are fucking for.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,” Lena snapped.
“Right. Help us find her.”
“No,” Lena said, coolly. “Goodnight, Director.”
Lena stabbed the end call key with her finger, resolving to herself that L-Corp was going to release a smart phone that made it more satisfying to hang up on people.
Then she very pointedly did not go out looking for Kara. Instead, she boiled water for tea, and spread open a technical journal on her lap.
After ten minutes, she had not drunk the tea, and her attention was sliding off the abstract like the wrong end of two magnets jammed together. Rubbing at her eyes, she decided she’d had too long a day for even light reading, and decided to enjoy a news broadcast with her tea.
Of *course* the lead story was Supergirl. She tried putting on the Lakehawks game, but that had been preempted for Supergirl coverage.
She turned to the science channel. Oh, of course they’d decided that tonight was the night to premier some ridiculous companion documentary for the World of Krypton exhibit running downtown at the convention center, and of course Lena works tune in right as Kara appeared on screen, grinning ear to ear as she charitably gave some literal kid reporter the interview of her lifetime, fielding softball questions about her dead planet.
“What do you miss most?” the kid asked.
Lena saw it, saw it the way only someone who knew Supergirl was just Kara Danvers, the nerdy, dorky, kinda basic goof in a pompous costume, could. The flash of real pain in the hero’s eyes, the softness in her voice, like she was apologizing for the honest of her answer.
“Red sunrises,” said Kara.
Lena threw the teacup across the room, and it shattered across the screen, leaving the dregs tricking down the surface. Lena wished the TV had been knocked out, but the screen was shielded by a transparent aluminum she’d invented herself.
So she changed the channel, just in time to get a face full of The Princess Bride, just as Buttercup was shoving a then-disguised Westley down the hill as he shouted the line the revealed his identity.
“Oh fuck you all,” Lena muttered, as she scooped her keys from the kitchen counter.
Lena decided it was a night for subtlety, so she took the BMW, driving with the top down and and her phone in her jacket pocket, so she could feel it if someone called.
Lena drove for the better part of an hour, reflecting on the absurdity of simply looking for Kara in a sprawling city; National City had about two thirds the population of Metropolis, but it covered nearly four times the land area and was surrounded by sprawling suburbs that extended the entire metro area to the size of a small state.
This was hopeless, unless Lena knew where to go.
You know what you have to do. You know what you’ve always had to do.
Kara answered on the third ring.
“Hi.”
Her voice was tiny and small, and Lena felt like she was clutching some small fragile thing to her cheek.
“Hey,” she said, with all the softness she could muster with the top down. She pulled to a stop on the side of Ocean Avenue so she could soften it further. “I heard what happened.”
“I beat the monster.”
“I know,” said Lena. “You always do. Where are you, Kara?”
There was a beat of silence.
“I don’t know who out you up to this, but you don’t have to do it, Lena. I know how you feel about me now.”
No, you fucking don’t, Lena thought, before she could silence her own frantic mind. If you knew you wouldn’t have lied to me.
“Tell me where you are.”
“I’m where I belong,” Kara sighed, the hint of slurring in her words hinting that she’d been drinking.
Then she hung up.
A wave of anger welled in Lena’s chest, and she clenched her teeth, seizing the shift lever to throw the car in drive and head home; Kara and her sister could handle their own bullshit.
She didn’t drive home.
Lena arrived at the convention center in a frantic five minutes, parking crazily in a towing zone. Finding a way in took another few minutes, and soon the flat soles of her tennis shoes were squeaking as they echoed across the polished granite floors of the lobby.
She found Kara in the exhibit, surrounded by quiet, dark displays as she stood in front of a bannered exhibit proclaiming “RAO, THE SUN OF KRYPTON”.
Kara ignored Lena as she approached, tipping back a sloshing, mostly empty bottle of Jack Daniels to take a hearty gulp.
“Kara?” said Lena.
Kara swayed slightly on her feet. She’d gotten a raincoat somewhere and put it on over her suit, cape and all, and even from a distance she stank of whiskey. She was staring at the display in front of her, an expansive orrery surrounding a lit model of Rao. Lena had never seen her so haggard, even her lustrous hair limp sallow.
“Hi,” Kara said, taking another drink.
“What are you doing?”
“Chasing a red sunrise.”
Lena approached slowly, until they stood side by side.
She stole a quick glance. Kara had a black eye and she was swaying slightly, and Lena wasn’t sure if it was from the booze or the fight. She started to take another drink.
Grasping the bottle by the neck, Lena took it from her. Kara didn’t resist as Lena tipped back a long pull on the bottle herself. It offended her palate in every possible way but one, but it was a good way to numb herself.
“Alex send you?”
“No,” said Lena. “She just had to tell me. She knew I’d send myself.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s a lot more observant than you are.”
Kara studied her for a moment, then reached for the bottle back.
Lena looked at it. “How much of this have you had?”
“Not enough,” said Kara, taking another drink.”
“If you insist on destroying your liver, at least let me give you something that actually tastes good.”
“It all tastes like paint thinner,” said Kara.
Lena sighed. “Get in the car.”
Kara shrugged and followed Lena out, flopping extravagantly in the passenger’s seat. Lena drove in silence, using the excuse that the wind noise made it too hard to talk.
When they arrived at Lena’s apartment, she practically shoved Kara inside, and poured the rest of the swill down the drain.
“Hey,” Kara muttered.
“There’s still some of your clothes in the guest bedroom. Take that damned suit off and put on something else.”
Kara complied, trudging into the bedroom. She emerged a moment later, looking small and sad with her hands tucked up inside an oversized hoodie, wobbling giving Lena a glassy look.
As she sat down, Lena handed her a glass of wine and perched on the edge of the couch cushion beside her, gently pressing an ice pack to her eye. Kara leaned into it and let out a soft, unsteady sigh.
“Pain hurts,” she observed.
“It’ll do that.”
Then she went quiet, sinking into Lena’s couch with Lena’s ice pack pressed to her face. Lena stepped into the kitchen and pulled out her phone. Alex answered immediately.
“I have her.”
“Thank God. I’ll be over to get her in a few minutes.”
“No you won’t,” Lena sighed.
Alex didn’t answer her for a too-long pause.
“Yeah. Call me in the morning.”
“Will do.”
Kara had found the wine bottle when Lena came back, and was taking a drink form it. Lena sat down next to her and took it, drawing on it hard before passing it back.”
“What now?” said Kara.
“Is the ice still cold?”
“Yeah.”
Kara curled up next to Lena, bringing her legs up, her toes wiggling in empty air. Lena sighed and found her a blanket, spreading it over her too carefully.
As soon as Lena sat down, Kara spread the blanket over her, too, and Lena noticed that her absurd body heat hadn’t abated from the loss of her powers.
“You have tea on your TV,” Kara observed.
“Yeah,” said Lena.
It took her a few minutes to find something on television that wasn’t Supergirl or The Fox and the Hound.
(Fucking seriously?)
Nature documentaries were Kara’s kryptonite, to turn a phrase, and soon she was sleeping on Lena’s shoulder, the ice bag fallen into her lap. Lena stared down at the soft features of the surpassingly lovely little goddess snoozing against her and couldn’t help it anymore.
She started to weep softly, her shoulders hitching as she struggled to stop it, knowing the attempt was hopeless.
It got worse when Kara began to purr, a deep and soothing rumble in her chest that seemed to seep into Lena’s bones. After a moment she realized that Kara was crying too; she’d woken up.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m so fucking sorry, Lena. I can’t… I can’t breathe I’m so sorry. I lost my red sunrise. I can’t lose you too. I’ll do anything. Please let me make it up to you I promise I will, please.”
Lena shifted to a more comfortable position, known this was it for the night, that something had shifted. No, shattered. She was tired of being angry, of being afraid, if thinking of could-have-beens and come-what-mays. Yes, Kara had lied. Lena had lied. They’d kept secrets and been stupid and and they’d hurt each other, but nothing in the world, no principles or closely held rules or petty anger would justify watching her suffer like this.
She was careful as she cupped Kara’s jaw, avoiding the injury, feeling a flash of rage at whoever had done this to her. (That his ass had been throughly kicked by an angry Kryptonian was irrelevant; her vengeance would not be forestalled.)
The kiss was quiet and gentle, at once too soft and quick, more request than declaration, and Kara swiftly answered with one so fierce and honest and hopeful that Lena didn’t care that Kara’s mouth tasted like whiskey and wine.
When it was over, Lena found herself whispering, “As you wish.”
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ezukll · 13 days
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⠀⠀⠀⠀How to Gain Success ⠀⠀𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗦𝗶𝗴𝗻 𝗢𝗯𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀
⠀⠀⠀⠀
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗔𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 ♈︎
The key to succeeding with a Fortune in Aries is to tap into the energy of ambition, courage, and enthusiasm. With Aries being the first sign of the zodiac, it represents the beginning of action and creation. In order to maximize the potential of Fortune in Aries, you should aim to adopt a fearless attitude to challenges and opportunities, with a keen desire to push boundaries and pursue success. Embrace your inner spark of excitement, passion, and energy during your pursuits and you will naturally attract opportunities for success.
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗧𝗮𝘂𝗿𝘂𝘀 ♉︎
To gain success with Fortune in Taurus, the key is to leverage the energy of stability, patience, and dedication. Taurus is all about creating consistency and longevity in all areas of the self. With the influence of Fortune in Taurus, you will likely have good luck and opportunities in matters involving financial security, material comfort, and practical values. To maximize the potential, it is important to focus on creating foundations of safety and stability instead of aiming for quick success and instant gratification. This can lead to steady, steady growth and opportunities for prosperity and success.
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗚𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶 ♊︎
To gain success with Fortune in Gemini, it is important to channel your energy and communicate your ideas and intelligence effectively. Gemini represents the twin and their communication and intelligence can be their best ally. With the influence of Fortune in Gemini, it can help you create success and recognition through your ability to network, express yourself, and communicate your thoughts clearly and powerfully. The dynamic communication energy of Fortune in Gemini can lead to the creation of new opportunities, connections, and ventures, which can lead down new paths to success.
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗖𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿 ♋︎
To gain success with Fortune in Cancer, the key is to tap into the energy of emotional connection and intuition. Cancer is all about nurturing and supporting others, and this energy can be applied to success as well. With the presence of Fortune in Cancer, you are likely to have good luck and opportunities in matters involving empathy, compassion, and the emotional connection to others. To maximize the potential, you should aim to embrace the compassionate and nurturing energy of Cancer to create success through helping and supporting others. In doing so, you may naturally draw new opportunities and success into your life.
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗟𝗲𝗼 ♌︎
To gain success with Fortune in Leo, the key is to harness the energy of confidence and passion. Leo is all about self-expression and pride, and this energy can be channeled into success as well. With the influence of Fortune in Leo, it can bring opportunities for success and recognition through the expression of self and creative pursuits. To maximize the potential, take advantage of the confidence and pride of the Leo energy to approach ventures with enthusiasm and gusto. By owning whatever it is you do and proudly doing it with passion, success and recognition will naturally come your way.
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗩𝗶𝗿𝗴𝗼 ♍︎
To gain success with Fortune in Virgo, the key is to tap into the energy of discipline, precision, and hard work. Virgo is the meticulous sign of the zodiac, known for its attention to detail and careful focus. Fortune in Virgo brings the strength of intention and discipline together with opportunities and good luck. To maximize the potential of Fortune in Virgo, you should aim to approach your projects with careful precision and a strong work ethic. By harnessing the perfectionist aspect of Virgo, the opportunities for success and recognition will naturally seek you out.
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗟𝗶𝗯𝗿𝗮 ♎︎
To gain success with Fortune in Libra, the key is to tap into the energy of diplomacy and balance. Libra is the sign of harmony and diplomacy, and their approach to life can be highly transformative. Fortune in Libra highlights the dynamic energy of balance and negotiation. There is a strong sense of partnership and mutual creation associated with the sign of Libra, which can bring success in matters involving relationships, interactions, and communication. Approach your endeavors with an emphasis on fairness and balance, and look for opportunities that allow you to work with others.
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗦𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗽𝗶𝗼 ♏︎
To gain success with Fortune in Scorpio, the key is to tap into the energy of transformation and intensity. Scorpio is the sign associated with the depths of the psychological self, and its dark and intense energy can be harnessed for success. Fortune in Scorpio represents good luck in matters relating to the unseen, hidden, and the unknown. Approach your endeavors with an mind and a desire to dig deep into the hidden truths and the unknown. Look for opportunities to gain a greater insight and bring hidden potential to life. Use your intense energy and focus to take on difficult challenges and succeed.
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗦𝗮𝗴𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘂𝘀 ♐︎
To gain success with Fortune in Sagittarius, the key is to tap into the energy of optimism and adventure. Sagittarius is the sign of expansion and positivity, and Fortune in Sagittarius highlights the opportunities for growth and progress that can come from maintaining an expansive and optimistic attitude. Approach your endeavors with a sense of open-mindedness and a hunger for knowledge and learning. You will naturally gravitate towards opportunities that offer you the chance to grow and learn, and the possibilities for success and recognition will come to your doorstep. Lean into the spirit of freedom and curiosity, and success will follow.
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗖𝗮𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗻 ♑︎
To gain success with Fortune in Capricorn, the key is to tap into the energy of ambition and responsibility. Capricorn is a very pragmatic and practical sign, and Fortune in Capricorn can provide luck and opportunities where your focus and determination play a key role. Approach your endeavors with a strong responsibility and the understanding that hard work and discipline will lead to success. Take the lead and approach obstacles with confidence and determination, and find a sense of purpose in your journey. Your ambition and drive will naturally lead to success and recognition within your chosen field.
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗔𝗾𝘂𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘂𝘀 ♒︎
To gain success with Fortune in Aquarius, the key is to tap into the energy of ingenuity and innovation. Aquarius is the sign of the future and the unconventional, and Fortune in Aquarius can bring opportunities for success in areas that are outside of the box. Approach your endeavors with a fresh and unique approach, aiming to do things differently from the expected. Think outside of the box and bring a sense of ingenuity to your ventures, and you can naturally attract opportunities and possibilities for success. Be open to new ideas and solutions, and embrace change and innovation in your pursuits.
𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗣𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗲𝘀 ♓︎
To gain success with Fortune in Pisces, the key is to tap into the energy of compassion and empathy. Pisces is the sign of the soul, spirituality, and artistic expression. Fortune in Pisces highlights the potential for success in matters relating to these areas. Approach your endeavors with an open and compassionate heart and seek opportunities where you can give back or help others. By tapping into empathy, compassion, and the soulful quality of Pisces, you can attract opportunities that are rooted in emotional connection and service. Use your gift for intuition to take on different ventures and opportunities, and success will come to you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀
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purple-babygirl · 26 days
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don't call me daddy III
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader
Word count: 3,840
Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.
Warnings: Bucky is less mean, age regression, period blood, intrusive thoughts, crying, Bucky's PTSD & nightmares.
A/N: Here you go, beauties💜 Thank you for your patience, please enjoy xx💜tell me your ideas about how we should proceed with these two if you have any💜
~
She shifted again on the couch, the discomfort in her abdomen turning more and more into a sharp pain by the minute.
Sitting up to rub sleep out of her eyes so she could go to the bathroom, she felt the dampness in her underwear and quickly realized what was happening.
She didn’t need to go to the bathroom; it was something else.
Oh, no.
It was her period, and it has made a huge mess on her clothes and possibly the leather couch. Bucky’s leather couch.
He was going to be so mad at her.
Unless she got up before he came home and cleaned everything up, right?
She took a deep breath, leaving the couch to look for pads in her bag, only to find nothing.
She forgot to pack her pads? Oh, no! What was she going to do now?
She was in so much pain and she was literally bleeding. She didn’t know if she should change first, clean up first or try to find painkillers first.
It was too much.
But, of course, as if all of this wasn’t enough, her little mind closed up and she was standing in the middle of the room, crying, when she heard his key turn.
“Bucky,” she called out, panicked and nervous.
She could see the shock on Bucky’s face, but given his previous behavior, her small mind translated it as anger; anger directed at her, “I had an accident.”
“What happened?!” Bucky dropped his jacket on the floor and ran to her, holding her by the shoulders, checking for wounds on her face.
“I—” she hiccupped, clearly scared of him again, she didn’t realize he wasn’t angry at her, but rather scared himself.
“What is it?” He asked again, shaking her shoulders before frantically searching her arms and hands.
“Period,” she sobbed, her voice quavering.
She felt so bashful, but also annoyed because she didn’t want to want or need Bucky’s help. She wanted to give him the space he’s wanted ever since he’s gotten her.
She didn’t want to tell him. She wanted to help herself.
“What?” Bucky genuinely had no idea what she was talking about.
“It’s that time of the month. Period.” She bit her lip, “I need pads.”
“So you’re not hurt?”
She looked at him with confusion for a second before shaking her head.
She heard Bucky mumble something that sounded like thank god as he hung his head down.
“Well…Okay, do you wanna get dressed?” he suggested with a sigh, letting her arms go.
“I can’t go anywhere like this,” she cried more, embarrassed at her state. She couldn’t believe she forgot her pads back in her room at the institution.
“Okay, okay, I’ll go!” Bucky said quickly, surprising her and himself by bringing a hand to her cheek.
She closed her eyes in fear, but whatever harshness she was anticipating never came.
Bucky’s thumb stuttered as it wiped away her tears, “I’ll get them.”
“Really?” She sniffled, slowly opening her eyes.
“Yes, go change into something clean and come back to tell me what pads… look like?”
Bucky has never done this before and he frankly had no idea how he was going to do shopping for period pads.
She nodded, hurrying to the bathroom with her bag.
She thought she’d use toilet paper as a temporary substitute until Bucky’s gotten her the pads in order not to ruin anymore clothes.
She lined her underwear with the tissues as best as she could before collecting her bloodied clothes in hand and opening the door.
“I- ehm- could you please start the washing machine for me?” she timidly asked, holding her stained clothes behind her back.
“Why?!”
“I wanna clean my clothes.” She swallowed, shifting on her feet uncomfortably.
She remembered well enough that ice cubes on bloodied clothes made it easier for the stains to come out. Maybe she should tell him about that.
“Leave that for now. I’ll do it.” Bucky waived his hand, wanting to go and get her what she needed. He couldn’t imagine what periods were like for women, and in her state? He felt like she shouldn’t be going through this at all.
“But the blood—”
“It’s okay. Leave them on top of the hamper.”
She wordlessly did as told before coming back out, rubbing her tummy as discreetly as possible.
“Are you in pain?” Bucky asked, moving to sit down.
She nodded quietly before shouting, “no! Don’t sit there!”
“Why not?!” Bucky frowned and she grimaced before grabbing a couple of tissues.
She wiped the stained couch a couple of times before running with the tissues to the trash.
“Oh.” Bucky swallowed as she ran to wash her hands.
He didn’t think he’s ever been in a similar situation in his life and if he has, he certainly didn’t remember. But Bucky knew he wasn’t disgusted; only worried for her.
He couldn’t remember the last time he was worried about someone and it made him uneasy.
As she dried her hands, she was dreading leaving the bathroom because she didn’t want to hear Bucky’s scolding about how she’s gotten his couch dirty.
Tiptoeing back into the living room, she had her hands back on her sides, desperately rubbing where her ovaries were to ease the piercing pain.
“I’ll get you some painkillers as well.” Bucky nodded, his frown never leaving his face.
He probably didn’t know, but his normal face as well as his intense stare were screaming I will kill you and it didn’t help her.
“Thank you.” She bit her lip again, eyes casted down.
“Here.” Bucky grabbed his jacket from the floor, hand fiddling with the pocket, “eat this.” Bucky brought a chocolate bar out of his jacket’s pocket, “I got it for you last night but you were asleep.”
“How did you know I was getting my period this morning?” she tilted her head innocently.
“I didn’t. I— I was gonna give it to you to—” Bucky stuttered.
To say I’m sorry
“To say good job during the visit yesterday,” Bucky sighed, the lies heavy on his unaccustomed tongue.
She took the chocolate without a word.
He was manipulating her again, wasn’t he? Probably just trying to build credit for the next visit.
“Mrs. Morrison isn’t coming the rest of the visits this month. She’s coming next month,” she informed him, disappointment evident in her tone, before leaving the chocolate bar on the coffee table.
I know, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want her to know he listened in on their conversation.
Bucky merely nodded, trying not to show dejection.
“Let me grab a pen so you could tell me what you need.” He got his new notebook out of his back pocket and sat down next to her.
“Can’t we just ask for it to be delivered?” She suggested, wanting to get away from receiving Bucky’s help, especially with something so private.
“Well, I’m offering to get them, aren’t I?” Bucky snapped, slightly losing his patience again.
He was internally mad he had to lie. Why couldn’t he just say he was sorry? And why was he feeling like he needed to protect her against the pain of this monstrous monthly visitor?
Her eyes teared up again as she stood up and started giving him the details about the brand and type of pad she used without an extra word.
Wow, she didn’t even want to sit next to him now.
Bucky understood, but he wished things weren’t the way they were. He wished he wasn’t the way he was.
Only now did he realize, she’s been a literal saint to him all along and he was all but the most ungrateful person she could’ve ever crossed paths with.
~
At the store, Bucky stood in the middle of the long aisle with his notebook in hand on the verge of crying because what was all these brands? Why did you need so many colours? And how were any of those have wings?
He needed to get back to her with those pads as soon as possible but he couldn’t because he didn’t know which was which.
She’d told him the ones she used had a pink package, but there were at least 4 groups of those coloured pink, different shades too.
Two women noticed Bucky’s dilemma and pushed forward to where he stood.
Oh shit, he looked creepy, didn’t he?
“Can we help you?” One woman asked with a smile as she stopped her cart by Bucky’s.
“No— yes. I don’t know.” Bucky shook his head sheepishly as his cheeks grew red.
He's never done this before. He never thought he would either.
He didn’t want people to think he was a pervert, but he couldn’t leave without bringing her home those pads.
“For your girl?”
“Yes!”
Well, that was a fast yes.
The blonde woman looked at Bucky weird before laughing to the brunette next to her.
“First time, huh?”
Bucky nodded, blushing deeper.
“What did she tell you?” the brunette asked knowingly, not wanting to embarrass him more.
“Here, I wrote it down.” Bucky showed them the page where he had the description for the pads scribbled down haphazardly.
“Aww that’s so sweet!” the blonde woman put a hand on her heart, making Bucky smile awkwardly.
“We’ve been married two years and she’s never took down notes of my words!” She gently elbowed her wife.
“I don’t need to because I know what you want by heart!” The brunette defended before going to look at the pad described in Bucky’s notes.
“True,” the blonde, standing with Bucky giggled, “your girl is gonna appreciate this very much.” She nodded with a smile.
Bucky faked another polite smile in reply.
Ah, if you only knew…
“Here, that’s the one you’re looking for.” The brunette handed Bucky two baby pink packages, “just in case.”
“Thank you so much!” Bucky was eternally grateful for the couple for saving him from going in an endless journey down that aisle.
“You’re welcome,” the brunette sang, pushing her cart away with her wife.
“Don’t forget to get her some ice cream!” the blonde shouted to Bucky.
 Bucky saluted with a chuckle, walking with purpose to find the ice cream fridges.
Enough stalling. Today was the day he made everything right. He was going to apologize even if the words killed him.
~
“Thank you.” She hastily grabbed the pads and a clean underwear and ran shyly to the bathroom to put them to use.
Bucky just changed his clothes and waited outside so he could ask her what she wanted to eat and maybe properly apologize this time.
He waited and he waited and there was nothing but silence.
She wasn’t coming out.
Now, he didn’t know how much time it took for girls to use those things, but he felt like she’s taken enough time.
Could she be in trouble? Was she too mad at him to leave the bathroom?
“Hey, everything okay in there?” Bucky knocked on the door, unknowingly making her drop the pad as she jumped.
“Y-yes!”
She was trying hard to remember the steps to put on the pad, but she kept messing it up. Her mind just too little to function properly.
“Are you sure?” Bucky called for her again.
“No.” She opened the door with tears in her eyes because she was about to ask for Bucky’s help for the millionth time when she wasn’t supposed to; didn’t want to.
“What is it?” Bucky asked, his voice unconsciously caring and worried.
“I don’t remember how big me puts it on and the pain won’t go away and my underwear is all messy again,” she sobbed without breathing, covering her face with her hands when she was finished.
“Okay, okay, let me help,” Bucky suggested, feeling dumber than ever because he had no idea how to do this either, but he felt so bad for her.
“Mr. Barnes is a man. Men don’t get periods,” she whimpered.
So she was back to calling him Mr. Barnes… good job, Buck.
“We’ll look it up online. Sam showed me how before.” Bucky found himself reassuring her as he guided her out of the bathroom and back to the couch.
“It’s here.” She pointed to the drawings on the side of the package describing how to stick the pad on one’s underwear, “but I still can’t do it.” She shrugged helplessly, crying more.
“Oh, okay!” Bucky took a look at the package, trying to understand what to do, “I can do it. Let’s get you something to eat so you can take the painkillers first.”
Wait what? He wasn’t going to let her ‘figure it out’ and feed herself?
She nodded dumbly as Bucky led her to the couch.
He heated up some pizza from the box he brought last night and got himself a piece too when his stomach started making sounds at the smell.
“Here.” Bucky set her plate in her lap and his on the coffee table.
She raised her underwear to him and he discreetly took it from her, trying to avoid being inappropriate.
Was this the first time he was consciously holding a female undergarment in seventy years? Yes. Yes, it was.
He attempted to follow the steps on the packaging as he removed the thin paper on the pad, revealing the sticky side of it.
He pressed the pad on the inside of the underwear and stared at it hesitantly, “now what does that paper cover?” He removed the shorter paper, revealing two more sticky parts.
“Wait, is this side supposed to stick to your body?!” Bucky asked, horrified at the idea.
“No.” She shook her head.
“Are you sure?” Bucky asked, trying to find a use for the upper sticky part of the pad.
She nodded without a doubt because she knew that nothing was supposed to stick on her skin.
“I think…” she started, gaining his attention.
“Hmm?” Bucky looked at her for clues before bringing his gaze back to the underwear, determined to do it right.
“I think it’s upside down…” Her small voice stated cautiously, fearing Bucky’s anger.
“Huh.” Bucky examined the underwear with an open mouth.
After another half hour, the pad had lost its stickiness and was no longer useable.
She’d finished eating her couple slices of stale pizza and took her painkillers, but Bucky was still going at it.
As she sat down looking at how determined Bucky was to help, she didn’t understand.
He was probably just feeling bad because she was bleeding, right? That must’ve been it because like he had told her, it was impossible that he’d suddenly want to be around her.
She looked at his plate and saw his food untouched. He didn’t eat a bite, too focused on the pad project.
She was mad at him and didn’t want to talk to him, but she felt really bad. Maybe she could help him without talking to him.
Without thinking too much about it, her hand was grabbing Bucky’s slice, raising the tip to his mouth so he could eat.
Bucky temporarily looked up from the underwear in his hands, speechless at her gesture.
She looked away, not wanting to meet his beautiful eyes because she was ‘mad’ at him.
Bucky bit back a smile, quietly taking a bite, “thank you.”
She nodded indifferently, head still turned away, hiding her own smile.
It was the first time Bucky has ever thanked her since they’ve been together.
But that didn’t really matter because Bucky still didn’t want her help, right? She was just doing this because he was helping her with her pad. Or at least that was what she was telling herself.
When Bucky was finished with his pizza, she took the empty plates and walked to put them down in the sink.
All of a sudden and before she could hold it in, a fart has escaped her and exploded aloud in the quiet room.
Bucky stopped trying with the pads and just stared at her silently for a second.
And then she was choking up again.
“Why are you crying now?” Bucky shook his head, not wanting her to cry, but she took it for frustration.
“Because it’s embarrassing and yucky,” she sobbed, covering her hot face with her hands as she plopped down on the couch.
“It’s not embarrassing or yucky. It’s human,” Bucky told her, leaving the underwear for a second to touch her hands.
“Mr. Barnes is not mad at me?” She sniffled, allowing Bucky to hold her hand.
“No.” He rubbed the tears off of her palms before handing her a tissue for her face.
“Do you think I’m disgusting?”
“No,” Bucky chuckled, amused that that would be her concern as she sat there literally oozing blood.
“Really?”
“Did you think I was disgusting when I was sweaty fresh out of a nightmare and you hugged me?”
“No,” she answered without hesitation.
Bucky remained still for a second, just cherishing her for everything he’s never noticed before, “it’s like that, too. I’m not disgusted.”
“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” She smiled gratefully.
It was a really short smile that Bucky could’ve easily missed it.
But he understood. He’d take what he could get. He had plenty to make up for.
“I’ll just look it up.” Bucky shook his head finally gave up on the pad project, resorting to his phone for help from YouTube.
Women’s lives were hard.
~
Ten more minutes and Bucky was enthusiastically yelling, “Yes! I did it!” while raising a feminine piece of underwear in the air.
Too soon, however, his excitement was deflated when he saw that her reaction and expression didn’t match his.
All she did was mutter a polite thank you, Mr. Barnes as she took her fixed underwear and went to the bathroom to change.
He knew why and he knew he shouldn’t expect anything less.
She’s let him off the hook many times and he couldn’t expect her to do it forever.
No matter how kind or innocent, she was only human.
Inside the bathroom, she was thankful for Bucky and proud he’s managed to do something that she was sure he’s never done before, but her feelings were still hurt.
Bucky made her feel unwanted again after she had almost forgotten what that was like. He made her feel like she could never be loved for all that she was, or exactly as she was.
She didn’t understand him. She didn’t know when he hated her and when he didn’t. She didn’t know if he was nice or mean.
And she hated these games. They confused her too much and that was the last thing she needed, especially while little.
And even if she made everything okay again and let this, too, go. It wasn’t what Bucky wanted. She couldn’t keep ignoring his wishes forever.
And so their night continued in silent TV watching and more cold pizza consumption; and instead of being familiar, the quietness was scary to Bucky.
The way she looked so blue gnawed at his insides because he knew he was the cause of it.
She didn’t try to poke at him, made sure she didn’t accidently touch him and only spoke when necessary and she called him Mr. Barnes all over again.
Is this what it would’ve been like had she conformed to his rules from day one?
So what? Why was he upset about that now? Wasn’t that how he’s been ever since he came back to himself? Why wasn’t it comfortable anymore? Silence and solitude were what he wanted, right?
Bucky wanted to talk to her before bed, to hopefully end this agony, but she quickly gave him her back after swallowing her painkiller.
“Listen—” Bucky started, gaining her attention.
She looked like she knew what he was going to say and so she did something that goes against everything polite she’s ever learnt; she cut Bucky off.
“I’m sorry about ruining Mr. Barnes’ couch. It won’t happen again,” she apologized first.
Couch? He wasn’t worried about some leather couch!
“That’s not—”
“I’m also sorry about making Mr. Barnes go shopping for me when I promised I won’t annoy him no more. I promise not to do that again.”
“It’s—”
“And I’m sorry for interrupting just now.” She bit her lip, unable to not apologize for something that she knew was wrong.
Bucky stayed silent, however, so she assumed she’d covered what he wanted to reprimand her about.
“Good night, Mr. Barnes.” She gave him her back again, pretending to have instantly fallen asleep.
With a sigh, Bucky went to his makeshift bed as well, swearing that tomorrow morning was apology time. It was final.
~
She wanted to be strong, but she just couldn’t bear Bucky’s thrashing and his suffering any longer.
She wished she could only give Bucky what he wanted and not care, but instead, she was going to give him what he needed, what she was here for and knew how to do.
She got on her knees by his shaking body and patted his flesh shoulder gently, still resisting calling his name.
Bucky woke up with a loud gasp to find her concerned eyes pouring love onto him.
Without a word, she began wiping away his tears with her sleeve, her other hand patting his shoulder to calm him down.
“It was just a bad dream,” she whispered, wishing she could hold her daddy close and make all his fears go away.
Yes, he was her daddy even if he didn’t agree.
“Sorry, that’s embarrassing,” Bucky chuckled, trying to make little of the fact that his nightmare was so horrifying that he was crying in his sleep as he wiped at his own cheeks.
“It’s not embarrassing. It’s human.” She echoed Bucky’s words and that was when he felt it; her warmth flooding his heart and body, surrounding him in gentle waves.
He looked up to meet her gaze and saw only care and compassion reflected back. He wanted to drown in those eyes; hide from everything that was hurting him.
And for the first time in decades, Bucky decided to let himself receive kindness because maybe, just maybe, he deserved some.
Before she could register, Bucky leaned in carefully, his forehead was on her shoulder and his arms at her sides as he let himself cry.
Her eyes were wide, not believing herself as her heart pounded. Bucky was seeking comfort. From her.
Without much thinking, she wrapped her arms tightly around Bucky’s larger body with an unspoken vow not to let go any time soon.
“I’m here, Mr. Barnes,” her small voice whispered, hands going up and down his back in slow, loving strokes.
Bucky shook his head on her shoulder, “no.”
“Bucky?” She quickly switched to his first name, but he shook his head again, raising it this time to lock eyes with her.
“Call me daddy.”
part IV
~
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romanarose · 2 months
Text
Misunderstanding
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Marc Spector x fem!reader
Join my taglist! Masterlist Read on ao3
Summary: When the boys come home early and see boxes all packed and furniture on the street, Marc jumps to the worst option. Clearly, you're leaving him.
Warnings: PIV sex, wall sex, oral f!recieving, manhandling, rough needy smut but loving and passionate, anxiety attack, Marc's self loathing but reader adores him. Calling Marc all kinda of cute nick names.
Immersability: Reader is fem, afab. Reader can be largly supported against the wall by Marc's strong arms <3
A/N: Commission done for @minigirl87 thank you SOOOOOOO much for your patience!!! Next time I do commissions i need to not do them right before moving. Left me quite behind. Anyway appreciate you so much!
Support creators! Reblog!
2.2k words
********************
Chaos made Marc anxious.
So, that’s why you decided to do spring cleaning while he and the boys were at work, hoping to get most of it done before the boys returned from work. What threw all your plans out of whack was a chance spotting on facebook marketplace. The prettiest furniture you’ve ever seen in your life was for fucking free. The owners were cleaning out the house from their mom who just passed, and just wanted the furniture to go to someone who’d love it like their mom did. And boy did you love it. The style was French Louis XVI. Fucking beautiful. So, you were making room. 
A lot was going to be given away with permission from your boys, and you’d be doing a lot of reorganizing of Steven’s books. A lot of trash, oh my god so much trash. Marc sure did love take out, even if it drove Jakey crazy. Then your old furniture was hauled out into the street for the garbage on tuesday, or some desperate soul. You hadn’t quite gotten to organizing Steven’s books and papers, but the trash was picked up, floors swept and mopped, and the old furniture was out. You needed to pick up your dream furniture, so you hopped into your car.
Steven was elated he got to go home early. It was only an hour, but that’s an hour more with you!!! You loved extra time with you!! There was a spring in his step, happily humming along to some song on Jake’s playlist on their phone. 
Until he saw it.
‘Aye, ¿que es?’ Jak asked, interrupting Steven’s happy thoughts.
Marc. ‘Is that… our furniture?’ 
“Oh my god…” Steven murmurs, slowing his steps. All their things were on the street.
‘She’s leaving us.’
“Oh, will you calm the hell down.” But Steven was a little nervous. He walks up the apartment stairs, ready to find you and get it all sorted out but… you weren’t there. The place looked so bare, so empty… The pictures on the walls were taken down, all the memories together, clothes were half-sorted in the bedroom and sheets off the bed…
You were gone. You didn’t want them anymore.
Marc took the body, pulling out his phone and calling you multiple times, but you went straight to voicemail.
“She’s done with us” Marc groans, backing against the wall. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
‘Mate, you need to calm down’ Steven tried to assure Marc, but he was nervous too.
Marc slid down the wall, beginning to panic. “Not this again…”
Jake and Steven attempted to tell him there’s another reason, logically.
‘She wouldn't just us… leave us’ Jake insisted. ‘She’s not like that. She’d tell us if there was an issue.’
None of this helped calm Marc, and he mentally checked out, sitting against the wall on the floor staring out the window.
That’s how you found Marc, dissociating and mentally checked out when you got home.
“Marcy Marc? Baby? Are you okay?” You toss your keys onto the counter and approach him, but stop when he suddenly jerks towards you like a scared animal.
Marc looks up, eyes wide and mouth agape as he scrambles to stand up. “Holy shit, you’re here…” He mutters, dashing over to you. “Baby, whatever it is, I swear to god I’ll fix it-” Marc hugs you so tightly it knocks the breath out of you with the force of him, strong arms wrapped tightly around you. Normally, you loved his bear hugs, they made you feel safe and oh-so loved, but right now his actions warned you he was upset. You always knew when your man was in distress, even when he tried to hide it. He wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry-”
You hug him right back. “Marc, honey, what’s going on? You didn’t do anything wrong.” That you know of, but honestly you couldn’t foresee Marc, Jake or Steven doing anything bad enough for you to be upset about. Only thing would be… Gently, so he knows you aren’t rejecting his affection, you nudge him away so you can look in his eyes. However, you keep hold on his arms. Marc’s love language was physical touch, so you always showed your love to him this way.
“Baby…” You look into his eyes, keeping your tone and facial expressions soft. “Have you heard from Khonshu lately?”
Confusion spreads on Marc’s face, his already large eyes widening. “No! Nonononono is that what this is about? You thought I was with Khonshu again?”
You were confused too. “I didn’t think anything was happening until I came home and you were against the wall. Marc, sweetheart.” You search his face for answers. “Can you just tell me what’s going on? I’m confused.”
He sputters a bit, trying to find the words. “Y-you’re leaving! You’re leaving us…”
You blink at him. “Huh? I’m not leaving you, god Marc, whatever got you this worked up? Sweetie, I’ve never been happier than with you three…”
“The furniture is on the street… Things are packed up… And, and and- the pictures! The pictures, they’re are taken down, our whole life together is off the walls-”
Ah. “Marc…” You realize what happened now. “Oh sweetheart, sweetie pie… I’m not leaving you. I’m doing spring cleaning. Remember, last week we went over what I could give away?”
The recognition slowly starts to spread across his face. “But… the pictures…”
“I took them down to wash the walls.”
“Oh… and the furniture?” It was beginning to click for him. This was all a misunderstanding.
You smile softly. “I found the coolest furniture. Steven will love it.”
He blinked. And again. “So… you don’t hate me?”
Your heart nearly broke at his words. “Oh Marc, no!” You gather him up in your arms again. “My sweet, sweet man I could never!”
You see his lip quiver a bit, but instead of crying Marc crashes his mouth into yours, large hands groping at your body with a fevur, like he couldn't believe you were real, that you were still here, still wanted him.
And he needed you.
“C’mere-” He grunted, gripping your asscheeks and pulling you towards him as he kisses you, mouth claiming yours in desperation.
Instantly you were filled with desire; Marc tended to do that to you. He was so handsome, so kind, so gentle you couldn’t help giving your all to him right away. Marc backed you up against the wall, the hand behind your head preventing you from smacking it against the plaster. He always looked out for you like that. You could feel his hardness as his wide hips ground into you, his plump pressed stomach against yours. You love how he’s softened, still so strong, but the safety of your home and the very idea that he wasn’t on the run and living in storage units… His body felt as safe as his mind did.
Marc’s mouth consumed you, licking into your mouth as his knee rid up between your legs. In loose, thin basketball shorts you felt his thick, manly thighs and sigh and pleasure.
“Marc…” You moan for him, unable to control the sounds of pleasure from escaping your mouth as you work yourself on his body. Hitching a leg up against his side, you cling to Marc for stability as he uses his grip on your ass for leverage, dragging you up and down on him. Marc’s kisses are insatiable, you feel as if he is attempting to breathe you in with heavy pants, kissing your lips and neck. Your face is wet from the open-mouth kisses.
Suddenly, and without warning, just as you are approaching the precipice humping his thigh, Marc pulls away and for a moment you think he got in his own head again, but then you are turned, face pressed against the wall but not painfully. Marc pulls your hips out, bends down to pull down your shorts and fucking picks you up by your pressed together legs to pull the shorts away. If that wasn’t sexy enough, he then kicks apart your ankles forcing your legs open. You aren’t even sure when Marc undid his pants, but before you know it, he is thrusting into your pliant and waiting body.
“M-Marc…” You repeat, his name the only thing on your mind is his name and his cock. Okay and maybe his hand wrapping around your front and snaking up your body. He plays with your grunts, grunting with his breaths hot against your ear and in time to the slamming thrusts of his hips. You brace against the wall, pushing your ass out more to take more of his length inside you.
“Thought I lost you…” He mutters, face tucked into your neck. 
“Never, never Ma- AH!” You cry out when he  squeezes a tit hard, pressing bruises through your shirt. “You-mmmph-you’re stuck with me.”
He pounds your core, rough thrusts mixed with soft kisses. You tilt your head back, desperate for his mouth, his love, his affection yours. He obliges, always knowing what you need and meeting your mouth to sloppily make out with you like horny teenagers. It was needy, it was desperate, it was Marc’s complete and utter relief that he was not going to be left shattered. He filled you over and over and again, the fat tip of his cock pressing up against that beautiful spot inside you. When you came, it was hard, pulsing on his cock again and again and again. Marc wrapped his arm under your middle as your legs began to feel like jell-o. 
“Mine.” He growls, spilling his cum inside you. “Fucking mine. Don’t every fucking scare me like that again.”
You want to tell him you didn’t that he jumped to his own conclusions but you were barely standing when he twirled you around again. Dropping to his knees, Marc looked up at you, large and wet brown eyes gazing at you in adoration. He was beautiful, so fucking beautiful…
“I won’t…” You whisper down to his hopeful face. “I promise. I love you so much.”
With a relieved look on his face, Marc smiles at you and god is it nice to see him smile. “I love you too, baby.” With that, he hitches a leg over his shoulder and dives into your pussy. Between his cum and yours, it’s a mess down there and that’s further evidenced by the absolutely obscene sounds coming from his mouth as he sluuuurped up the evidence of your time together. Marc was eager, eating his own cum out of you while keeping your supported against the wall. You knew he wouldn’t let you fall. His tongue swirled against your clit, making you buck against him so one hand pinned your hips to the wall. He ate like this was his last meal, like his salvation came from your pleasure.
When he sucked on the sensitive nub, you cry out his name and dig your fingers into Marc’s dark curls, keeping him close to you. As if he’d ever leave. You were close again, the whirling swirling feeling deep inside you continuing to build like a twister into a tornado as you chant Marc, Marc, Marc like the repetition of a Rosary. His tongue flicked inside you, one hand keeping you upright against the wall and the other playing with your clit, making you come apart directly into his mouth.
You pull on his hair so hard you worry you’re hurting him but the way Marc shoves his face into you even harder spurs you on. You can hear and feel him moaning into you as he laps up your release, a soft mmmmmm reverbating against your pussy and prolonging it as you ride his face. Your left leg is so tired, so sore, starting to wobble and Marc notices as he finally pulls away. Marc helps you slide down the wall, landing you safely on your bottom.
On his hands and knees, Marc Spector crawls to you, kissing your lips tenderly but you can see his own exhaustion too. Cupping his face in both your hands, you kiss Marc as you lay him down on your naked lap. You’re surprised with how quickly Marc’s full lashes flutter closed, his head resting between the crux of your thigh and stomach.
You play with his hair. He seems so tired, today must’ve taken it out of him. After a whole day of work, coming home to thinking you were gone. You know how anxiety can physically drain you.
“That really scared you, huh?” You say, petting him like a cat. You swear you can hear him pur.
Marc talks soft, sleepy, eyes never opening. “Yeah. Thought I lost you… I can’t do that.”
“I’ll never leave you, sweetie. And I’d certainly never leave like that… But I know how anxiety can be.”
His voice was groggy with sleep, quiet and muttered. “Yeah, it fuck’n sucks.” 
You can’t help but chuckle. “It does, baby, it does. But I’m here, and I ain’t going nowhere. Can’t get rid of me if you tried, Spector.”
He hums constantly, and in another moment, Marc is snoring softly. He’s so cute.
Then, he’s snoring loudly.
Why didn’t Steven and Jake snore? Made no fucking sense.
Sighing, you settle back against the wall and maneuver enough to grab your shorts without waking your sleeping, tuckered out little boyfriend. You pull out your phone, take a few cute pictures (some with flowery or silly snapchat filters) then go play Candy Crush. He needed to rest.
Mostly, because he had a long day and was so so adorable when he was sleeping even if he was loud as all goddamn hell.
But also, you still had several pieces of furniture sitting in your car and there was no way you were going to move all of them yourself.
*************
We love a reader who can take care of an anxious baby <3
Thank you so much for reading!!!! This is my first marc, or any moon knight in a few months. I MISSED HIIIIIIMMMMMMMM
My beloved one <3
MY MOON KNIGHT RETURN IS HERE!!!!!!
I got a dark reader x marc coming up IF I OULD EVER GET A GOOD KNIGHTS SLEEP follow @romana-after-dark for that
Want to keep up with my fics? Heres how!
Join my taglist! or follow @romana-updates and click get notifications! I only post fics or updates there, and the occasional bonus content, quiz, fan art, fic related things etc to keep people engaged.
You can always HMU on anon! Like Aaron Manke says at the end of Lore "Say hi :) I like it when people say hi :)"
NOTE! if you love triple frontier, im putting on an event! come check it out here!
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535 notes · View notes
thesirencult · 3 months
Text
Pick A Card Reading : New Year Guidance
What you need to leave behind in 2023.
What you should keep from 2023 and wisdom it gifted you with.
What you should start doing in 2024.
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PILE 1
What you need to leave behind in 2023.
7 Of Pentacles Leave behind not aligning your goals with your values. Sunk cost fallacy is when you don't stop doing something that is costing you and harming you because you have been doing it for a while. This is so 2023 babies! Are assesing your input vs the output you receive. Where in your life are you selling yourself short?
What you should keep from 2023 and wisdom it gifted you with.
4 Of Swords, 6 Of Pentacles In 2023 you learnt that everything comes with the cost. The cost though, better not be your physical and menatal health. A piece of wisdom you shoul keep is that resting is as important as growing. Also, remember to not sell yourself short and to stop self sacrificing and overgiving. Equal giving and taking is a moto you should keep repeating throughout 2024 and the end of 2023.
What you should start doing in 2024.
4 Of Cups, 10 Of Cups In 2024 you can start practicing being grateful for all you have already received or want to receive. Focusing on what you have and what you want to accomplish is more important than looking into what you lack. This will help you fight off any remaints of the "scarcity mindset". Also, practice patience and learn to bask in the light of the journey, not obsessing over the destination.
PILE 2
What you need to leave behind in 2023.
King Of Cups Rx, 3 Of Cups Rx What you need to leave behind in 2023 is your inability to express your true emotions and to listen to your heart instead of your mind. Many people around you do not have your best interest in mind. You have noticed that due to how they act when you succeed on your endeavors. Leave these people back in 2023 and use their jealousy as fuel to gas yourself up. Your inability to see your worth clearly is another hinderance. Learn to autonomously realize what your true value is without needing to use others as a mirror. Sometimes the mirros around you are broken and a change of surroundings can go a long way. Being autonomous and self-sovereign will help you navigate life in 2024.
What you should keep from 2023 and wisdom it gifted you with.
9 Of Swords 2023 taught you that negative self talk and a toxic environment affect your self esteem, image and life choices. You should hold close to your heart all the moments you suffered and you were left alone with your thoughts. This will help you understand that you are far more powerful than you think and that in big life choices we are always on our own with only Spirit by our side. If you wanna go fast, go by yourself. If you wanna go further, go with others, but, remember, that others have to want to reach the same destination as you, or else, you will keep visiting cities in ruins.
What you should start doing in 2024.
The Lovers Be independent and learn to make choices all by yourself, without considering how it affects others, if your choice is not directly harmful to them. Being a part of a unit and team is amazing but spreading your wings and flying is even better. Your vibe attracts your tribe. Be yourself unapologetically and authentically. Stop trying to blend in and fit in or you will bleed out.
PILE 3
What you need to leave behind in 2023.
8 Of Swords, The Fool, 6 Of Wands Let go of the belief that others can hold you back or that your past dictates your future. Do not let others tell you what you're capable of accomplishing. Everything lies in choice and perception. Master the last two and you have the key to open the door of success and happiness. Stop closing your eyes to the truth. You are capable of setting yourself free. YOUR choices dicatte your life. You are responsible for yourself and your future. Leave behind analysis-paralysis and planning but never following through. Keeping the promises you make to yourself is as important, if not more important, than making them. Clear your head and your vision. Stop feeling unlucky and fallen from grace. Stop thinking you are uncapable of being seen as succesfull, powerful, beautiful and being able to connect with others. You can be a leader and example for others in the future. Authority comes from self-belief. It should make you mad that people with one third of your talent, wisdom and capabilities are achieving more because their ego is inflated. Be the good guy who wins in the end. Your scars are your medals. Show em. Let yourself be seen.
What you should keep from 2023 and wisdom it gifted you with.
The Hierophant, 7 Of Wands, 10 Of Pentacles IDK. Maybe, I said, MAYBE THAT YOU ARE THE ONLY THING STANDING IN YOUR F*ING WAY AND SPIRIT WANTS YOU TO SEE THAT YOU'RE MEANT TO BE HAPPY AND WEALTHY AND SUCCESFULL, you naughty little thing! In 2023 you saw a glimpse of what lies ahead and what you can accomplish, if and only if, you dare to have faith in yourself and to trust in the highest power. Remember that you are not meant to follow the "traditional" path to success. This reminds me of the "Dumb Money" movie. Outrageous succes. Overnight success in the making for years. Looking in the dashboard and seeing the 000s pileing up while brushing your teeth in 8am unaware type of success. Rebel against the norm. You're in service of spirit because you have a pure soul. You are chosen and protected, you dumb lucky b*tch (I'm aggresively affectionate and you KNOW it). You are meant to be a leader and a guide for others. You are the reverse of pile 2 when it comes to this. Others can see the power and the beauty of yours. They love basking under your warm rays. You are the one unable to see your light. Just like a star, you only see the darkness around and the lights of others. You have been cursed to be unable to see your own beauty and light, so, take this as a sign and continue shining, tone it UP a bit. Connecting with Spirit/Universe/God and channeling is something you learnt this year. You might be my creator/energetic healer/tarot reader/coach/astrologer/crypto bro pile.
You are a creator at heart. A trendsetter, an influencer (in your own unique way). Keep sharing your ideas as they attract abundance and wealth in all forms, as well as your tribe. Sidenote. This year you had to protect yourself and learnt how to set boundaries. If someone disrespects you do not hesitate to get those claws out pantheress. Community, legacy, wealth and abundance were the pillars around the pieces of wisdom this year gave you. Also, read "Think And Grow Rich" by Napoleon Hill. Be brave and fierce.
What you should start doing in 2024.
Ace Of Swords, The Magician, Temperance
What you should start doing from now on and going forward is learning how to act as the equaliser, alchemist and embodying the witch/wizard archetype.
The next year your consciousness will further heighten and your task is to communicate your insights with others.
Accept and believe that you are a winner and develop the "winner's mindset" that will lead to triumph.
Don't play small, for once. Be selfish. Hold the mirror up and see the light. This is your light. No one can take it away from you. Profit from your light, don't let others be warm while you are burning yourself up or shivering in the cold.
Act with your personal interest in mind (Honestly, how much of a people pleaser are you? Do I have to tell you that? *Totally hugging you and playing with your hair while flaming you.*
Go watch some YouTube beauty influencers from 2016 and take some notes from Kim Kardashian when she was searching for her earrings in the Carribbean or somewhere, while people were dying.)
Keep on having that tunnel vision and focusing on personal gains.
Be resourceful. Create, transform and pivot when it is necessary. We are making this whole thing up along the way, this is LIFE, get over it, lol.
Meditating will help you ground yourself and set those energetic boundaries.
Hmmm, last random thoughts : Dare to blend multiple energies and to unite extremes. Be your OWN niche. Keep connecting people with spirit and their highest potential. Be a mediator for others and lastly, share as you keep on studying and learning.
We are not here to be perfect, we are here to BE. FULL STOP. PERIOD
Bye my fellow unhinged b*tches.
XOXO, the CEO of being unhinged, 💋💕🤎
S
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shebunie · 3 months
Note
HIIIIII! could you do a mizu x reader when reader teases mizu so much that mizu snaps and erm...things get suggestive or just plain smut IDK 🙏🏽
𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭
𝗠𝗶𝘇𝘂 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟭𝟴+, 𝗻𝘀𝗳𝘄, 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗿! 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗶 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗯𝗮𝗱, 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘆𝗲𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗳-𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟮.𝟲𝗸 𝐀/𝐍: 𝗛𝗶 <𝟯, 𝗮𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗵𝘂, 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝘇𝘂, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱! 𝗠𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗜 𝘀𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗶𝗿𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗳𝗳. 𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗬 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗦 𝗦𝟮!
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"I don’t want company." 
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the tranquil landscape. Mizu, the stoic yet skilled samurai, sat beneath a cherry blossom tree, taking a moment of relaxation from her travels. Her sword rested beside her, reflecting the fading sunlight. However, her solitude was soon interrupted by your arrival.
You, an adventurous and cheeky soul, approached her with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I couldn't resist the allure of a lone samurai beneath the cherry blossoms," you declared, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
“What's gotten you so grumpy?” 
Mizu's piercing gaze met yours, her expression unwavering. "I said, I don’t want company," she replied, a hint of irritation in her tone.
Undeterred, you plopped down beside her, ignoring her warning. "Oh, come on, Mizu! Even a samurai needs a break. Plus, it's a crime to waste such a beautiful evening in solitude," you teased, leaning closer to her.
She sighed, realizing that you were not easily deterred. "I value my solitude. It sharpens my focus and keeps me attuned to the world around me," Mizu explained, attempting to maintain her composure.
You chuckled, tracing patterns on the grass with your fingers. "I get that, I do. But even the mighty Mizu needs a break from being a stone-cold warrior sometimes. Don't you ever get tired of all that serious stuff?"
Mizu's stoic facade cracked ever so slightly as she shot you a sideways glance. "I don't get tired. I endure," she retorted.
Your grin widened, clearly enjoying her reactions. "Endure, huh? Well, how about enduring some good company for a change? It might be just what you need."
A subtle tension hung in the air as Mizu's patience wore thin. "I've endured many challenges and adversaries. Dealing with you might be the most formidable one yet," she remarked, a flicker of amusement in her eyes.
A hand to your mouth, feigning shock enveloped your features, “Of course, you seem to be the only one who can handle it anyway.” 
Each remark a playful jab, and each counter a carefully calculated response. The verbal sparring evolved into a dance of wit and charm. Mizu found herself caught in the web of your playful teasing, her steely resolve slowly giving way to the unexpected allure of your company.
As the moon began to rise, casting a silvery glow on the landscape, you decided to up the ante. "You know, Mizu, beneath that tough exterior, I bet there's a samurai with a heart that longs for a little excitement," you mused, a sly grin playing on your lips.
Mizu raised an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and defiance in her gaze. "I have no interest in power or money. I have no interest in being happy. Only satisfied." 
“And what if I told you that a bit of someone, might just be the key to satisfaction?”
You leaned in, your voice a soft whisper against the gentle rustling of the cherry blossoms as you lifted a finger to trace along the jaw of the wielder. The strand of her hair followed the breeze, your eyes traced along the bridge of her nose, down to her upturned lips. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Looking at you.” you voiced, Mizu couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of discomfort and curiosity. Your presence, initially an unwelcome intrusion, now presented a challenge that intrigued her. She shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, trying to maintain her composure.
"I prefer to be unseen," Mizu remarked, her tone stern, but a glimmer of uncertainty lingered in her eyes.
You chuckled softly, the mischievous glint in your eyes undiminished. "But you look so pretty like this. Do I make you nervous?”
Mizu, unaccustomed to such flattery, found herself at a loss for words. The air around you two was charged with a newfound tension, a delicate balance between the solitude she sought and the unexpected charm you brought. The cherry blossoms overhead seemed to sway in approval, as if nature itself acknowledged the subtle shift in the atmosphere.
Your soft fingers that lingered on her face, held her chin and gently turned her gaze to you. The moon illuminated the scene, casting shadows that played on your features, giving you an almost ethereal quality.
For a moment, Mizu's stoic exterior wavered. She glanced away, the touch of your finger on her skin tingled, breaking eye contact, and the moonlight revealed a hint of vulnerability. "Empty flattery won't change my resolve," she declared, her voice a mixture of defiance and self-assurance.
But you were undeterred, your playful demeanour persisting. "Who said anything about changing your resolve? I just thought you could use a break from it every now and then," you replied shifting your focus on the sword between you, ever so carefully gliding your fingers along the hilt. 
Mizu's internal struggle played out on her face, a silent battle between the disciplined warrior and the unforeseen allure of your company.
“You look troubled,” the sultry tone of your voice called her out. Mizu let out a sigh, her resistance crumbling like a dam giving way to the persistent flow of water. The tension in her shoulders eased, and she found herself drawn into the magnetic field of your presence. "I am not troubled, I just don't want to be bothered," she insisted, though her gaze betrayed a conflict within.
Your fingers continued to dance along the intricate details of her sword, a silent acknowledgement of the craftsmanship that mirrored the complexities of Mizu herself. A sigh escaped your soft lips, “Then I’ll leave you to it.” Standing from your position, smoothing down your kimono as you turned around to leave the stoic wielder alone with the presence of the moonlit sakura’s
Mizu, unable to fully articulate the conflicting emotions within her, found herself reacting on an impulse she didn't quite understand. Her hand, the same one that had just moments ago wielded a sword with precision and control, now held onto the delicate fabric of your sleeve. Eyes, usually sharp and focused, betrayed a mix of uncertainty and something else—an unspoken acknowledgement of a connection.
You turned to look at her, surprise evident in your eyes. The air crackled with tension as Mizu's gaze held yours, the silent exchange conveying more than words ever could. In that brief moment, the boundaries that she had meticulously built around herself began to blur. She pulled you to sit on her lap.
"I didn't ask for this," Mizu grumbled, attempting to salvage some semblance of control over the situation.
With a playful smirk, you retorted, "Well, you did say you endure, right? Consider this endurance training for, an unexpected guest." Snaking your arms around her neck,  the subtle touch of your fingers on the back of her neck sent shivers down her spine.
Long slender fingers gripped your face, squishing your cheeks and making you form a pout, “This persistent attitude of yours reminds me of someone,” Mizu’s patience ran thin on your teasing, a frown etched on her face while she squinted her eyes.
You couldn't help but laugh at her attempt to regain control, your pout turning into a playful grin. "Oh, really? And who might that be?" you asked, your voice a melodic muffled blend of amusement and curiosity.
“Just like Taigen when we were children,” her grip on your plush face remained, a different glint evident in her cerulean eyes, “A fucking brat.” Pushing you down on the soft grass, as she hovered above you, her weight supported by her strong arms.
The world seemed to slow down as Mizu's unexpected move left you breathless. The scent of cherry blossoms lingered in the air, and the moonlight painted a surreal backdrop for the unfolding moment. The playful banter had given way to a charged atmosphere, and the tension between you two became palpable.
Mizu's gaze bore into yours, a mixture of intensity and a flicker of something more. The fingers that had gripped your face now traced a delicate path down your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The weight of her body pressed against yours, and a primal energy passed between you, unspoken yet undeniable.
“I can be a brat.”
The soft rustling of the leaves overhead seemed to echo the beating of your hearts as Mizu's lips, once firm and resolute, hovered tantalizingly close to yours. Her eyes, usually guarded, now betrayed a vulnerability that mirrored your own.
"Oh, I know you can," Mizu declared, her voice low and commanding, fingers gently traced along the collar of your kimono, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down your spine. 
"You’ll do as I say," she asked, her tone firm. "no defiance, no resistance. just complete submission." Undoing the ties of her makeshift belt with one hand as the other gathered your wrists, slowly and deliberately tying it together, ensuring you're completely at her mercy. 
Mizu can see the anticipation in your eyes, the desire to be dominated and brought to your limits. “Keep those wrists exactly where they are," she commanded, voice leaving no room for negotiation.
"I want to see just how well you can follow orders." She proceeded to explore your body with rough fingertips, caressing and teasing every inch of your exposed skin. 
You closed your legs together, “I don't think I follow orders that well,” feeling every tantalizing touch of the samurai, goosebumps rising from your skin as your breath wavered. 
Looking at the wielders eyes, a mischievous glint danced in her gaze. "Oh, we'll see about that," she purred, her fingers tracing a slow path up your inner thigh. "Resistance can be quite entertaining."
As she leaned in, her warm breath grazed your ear. "Perhaps I'll have to find more creative ways to make you obey," she teased, her fingers lightly dancing along your collarbone. "You won't be closing those legs for long."
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“come on my love speak up, what do you want? you want me to fuck you open for all of them to see?" Mizu whispered, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. She cocked her head to the side, your gaping lips brushing her earlobe as another whine escaped your throat. You whimper, the sudden feeling of her soft lips kissing your body never failing to make you feel crazy.
Mizu’s fingers drift down, fiddling with the hem of your garment before teasing you from the outside. Her boney fingers lightly ran over your underwear, soaking cunt leaking through the fabric.
Whines and begs slipping from your mouth, pleas for her to touch you. But, she stops, looking you dead in the eyes, “what do you want? say it, use your words.” She demands, watching you so closely you could come just from her gaze.
“Please, mizu.. I want you to touch me.” 
Mizu's smirk widened as she leaned in, her fingers tracing a teasing path up your arm. "Well," she purred, "you have to be more specific than that."
Your breath caught in your throat, the anticipation thick in the air. "I want..." you stammered, struggling to form coherent words. Mizu's eyes never left yours, her confidence almost maddening.
"I want your hands on me," you finally managed to express, your voice a mix of need and frustration. Mizu's laughter echoed in the room, low and sultry.
"Such a good start," she whispered, her touch now dancing along your waist. "But you can do better. Tell me exactly where you want me to touch you."
The room seemed to shrink as you gathered your thoughts, desire and embarrassment wrestling within you. "I want your lips on mine," you admitted, your cheeks flushing with a mix of arousal and vulnerability.
Mizu's gaze intensified, a hunger evident in her eyes. "And?" she urged, her fingers lingering on the edge of your anticipation.
"Everywhere," you confessed, feeling the weight of your desire in the pit of your stomach. "I want to feel you everywhere."
Her giggle filled the room again, this time a bit softer. "Now we're getting somewhere," she murmured, closing the gap between you. 
“Here?” you whine at her words, nodding. “Why are you nodding? I said to use your words.” She growled, her brows furrowing.
“I want you to touch my pussy, mizu.” you moaned out, enough to satisfy her.
“On your hands and knees,” Nimble fingers tease and twist your panties until they’re pooling around your ankles. Breath becomes heavier as she starts to kiss a pathway down the length of your back. You give in to her urges; head tipping back as her mouth glides over the plush of your behind. 
Mizu kneels between your legs, sinking her teeth into your ass and moaning in unison with you. Your back arches at the feeling, presenting your cunt for her to feast.
“Pretty girl,” Mizu growls, hands palming your ass, spreading you further apart, “with the prettiest pussy, fuck-”
She delves in. Shiny tongue weaving between webbed folds. She groans, going for a second taste, a longer lick. Mizu slurps at your cunt, the loud, lewd sound causing you to shiver, top half of your body lowering against the tatami floors. The cold sends a jolt through your already perky nipples, and you squirm. 
“Sweeter than sugar,” Mizu licks her lips, eyes memorising the sight of your wet cunt, puffy and pulsing for her -  diving back in, her tongue and lips explore you.
Kissing your puffy clit, causing an erotic moan to leap from your swollen lips. She sucks on your aching clit, flicking the talented tip of her tongue in intricate patterns that have your thighs quivering against her flushing cheeks.
Mizu’s tongue worked its usual magic; sucking, kissing, rolling— your eyes began to water, the feeling of her inside you causing your build-up to come much faster than usual.
Indents of your teeth scatter across your hand and arm after having to bite into yourself to stay quiet. It was the crack of dawn after all. So, you continue to release muffled moans against your skin, eyes squeezing shut in concentration- but fuck  Mizu knows what she’s doing with her tongue.
“Mmhm,” Mizu groans, face smushing into your cunt. Her ego swells with every, jolt of your hips as her tongue catches the perfect spot in each swirl. The way she moved had you crying like a little girl; red-faced and sobbing, begging her to let you cum. “what do you want, again?”
“Please, please mizu, please let me cum. I’ll be good, I promise.”
She’s about to make you cum faster and harder than you ever had in your life. She can sense it in the pulsing of your clit, feel it in the tremble of your legs. God, she wants to beg. 
Feeling you slip over the edge and moaning into you. To catch every essence of your release, she switches to long yet fast licks up and down the length of you;  from your buzzing clit, over your clenching hole.
“Mizu, fuck, oh my-” Your tied hands search for her, finding purchase grasping dark long tresses, “I’m-”
A calloused hand lands on your soft supple skin with a smack. The corner of her lips curls up into a grin when your body jolts, soft whines slipping past your lips.
“We’re done when I say we’re done or has the whore forgotten the endurance training she proposed?” The insult had your tummy flipping and cunt clenching, and of course Mizu noticed.  She took no time slipping her middle finger inside you, your walls sucking her in desperately. 
Leaning over your body, her perky breast mushed against your arching back as her free hand tightly pulled your hair.
“Mizu!” you squeak, clit throbbing, the roughness of her fingers rubbing against the walls of your cunt. “Please—” you whimpered, tear droplets rolling down your cheeks.
“Shut up.” She grunted out, long and slender fingers increasing their pace, pounding that spongy taste of heaven inside you, over and over again.
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655 notes · View notes
justabigassnerd · 2 months
Text
Patience Worn Thin
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Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader
Word Count - 2,300
Warnings - harassment, violence, injuries, alcohol, drinking, angst, fluff
Summary - after seeing someone bother Bradley one too many times, you take matters into your own hands
A/N - hey y'all I'm back with another anon request and I hope I did it justice! I am the most unconfrontational person on the planet so this was a little out of my depth but it's always good to try new things. as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!
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“Hey babe, me and the Daggers are heading to the Hard Deck for a couple of drinks. Want to come?” Bradley says in his usual soft tone as he sweeps you up into a hug, holding you close as if he hadn’t seen you in years when in reality he had simply gone upstairs for a few minutes and just returned downstairs.
“If they’re okay with me tagging along.” You say, curling your arms around Bradley and resting your head just above his heart and listening to the gentle thudding of his heartbeat.
“They’re always okay with you coming. If they weren’t, they’d have to deal with me and Mav.” Bradley says, his soft chuckle rumbling against your ear before you lift your head off his chest, laughing to yourself as you visualise your boyfriend and your dad teaming up against all the Daggers. While you were Maverick’s daughter, you weren’t an aviator, instead, you had opted to work in nursing and found yourself working in a hospital local to where your dad and boyfriend worked.
“Guess we’re going to the Hard Deck then.” You say with a soft smile as you look up at Bradley as he looks down at you, leaning down to press the gentlest of kisses against your lips. When you both pull away, Bradley’s phone buzzes and he lets out a soft sigh, pulling it from his pocket and inspecting the text displayed.
“We better get a move on. Apparently, I owe Jake a darts match and I fear that if I don’t show up soon my callsign might change from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Chicken’.” Bradley says with a laugh as you move out of his embrace, laughing as you imagine him being called ‘Chicken’ day in and day out at work.
“Let’s get you down to the Hard Deck then. Can’t have my boyfriend being seen as someone afraid of a darts match against Jake of all people.” You say, patting Bradley’s chest before moving past him to get yourself ready to head to the bar.
When you are ready, you head out of the house with Bradley and get into the passenger seat of his Bronco, smiling as Bradley instinctively rests his free hand on your thigh as he drives, singing along to the radio under his breath as he goes. Eventually, he parks outside the Hard Deck and the two of you get out and head into the bar together.
“Want me to grab you a drink? I’ll be designated driver if you want?” You say, turning to face Bradley almost the moment the two of you entered the bar.
“Are you sure?” Bradley asks, soft enough for the moment to be just between the two of you but loud enough to be heard over the noise of the bar.
“I’m sure. As long as you’re okay with me driving the Bronco of course.” You say with a small smile as Bradley rests a hand on your waist, the other digging in his pocket and holding the Bronco keys between the two of you.
“There’s no one else I’d trust to drive her.” He says, grinning as you take the keys before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.
“Bradshaw! Get your ass over here!” You pull away with a giggle at Jake’s voice ringing clearly over the noise of the busy bar and Bradley rolls his eyes.
“He really knows how to pick a time, huh?” Bradley mutters, winding an arm around your waist and guiding you over to the Dagger's usual spot near the pool tables and dart board.
“Hey, you brought y/n!” Jake greets you enthusiastically as the two of you approach, instantly approaching you, arms outstretched for a hug that you’re more than happy to give him, pulling away and greeting the other Daggers with hugs before returning to Bradley’s side.
“Okay, I’m going to grab you a drink now. Beer?” You say to Bradley as he nods.
“That would be great, thank you.” Bradley says gratefully, kissing the top of your head before letting you cross the bar to talk to Penny.
“y/n! How lovely to see you.” Penny greets you happily, smiling as she leans up against the bar to talk to you.
“It’s good to see you too, Penny.” You say, smiling at Penny.
“Beers for you and Bradley?” Penny asks, instinctively reaching down to the fridge that contains the beers you and Bradley like to drink.
“Just one for Bradley. I’ll take a soda.” You say, pulling out your card and handing it to Penny to start a tab just in case you and Bradley wanted more drinks throughout the evening. Penny soon hands you your two drinks and you thank her with a smile before turning and heading back over to Bradley who was standing with Jake near the dart board.
“Here you go.” You say, holding Bradley’s beer out towards him as he takes it gratefully, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips in thanks.
“Get a room you two.” Jake grumbles, plucking the darts from the board and handing some of them to Bradley.
“Just you wait until you get a girlfriend. Then me and Bradley will be saying it to you.” You say with a laugh as Jake rolls his eyes. You then make your way over to Natasha and Bob, sitting with them and making conversation with them as Bradley and Jake play their darts match.
An hour or so later, after Jake and Bradley are finally done with their final match, you get up, excuse yourself to the bathroom and leave the group to their own devices for a few minutes. However, when you return, you can’t say you were impressed with the scene before you.
When you leave the bathroom, shaking the remnants of water off your hands, you see a woman almost draping herself over Bradley who doesn’t look entirely comfortable with her proximity. You could tell he was saying something to her, but you didn’t know what it was. You soon crossed the bar and sidled up alongside Bradley, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Hey babe. Who’s your friend?” You ask innocently, turning to look at the woman who had at least had the decency to take a step back.
“I’m Mia.” She says, barely giving Bradley a chance to respond, making you fight the urge to roll your eyes.
“Well, nice to meet you, Mia. If you don’t mind, I’d like to spend some time with my boyfriend. It's our first time seeing each other in months. You can understand that, right?” The lie comes quickly and easily to you. You weren’t the biggest fan of sounding possessive over Bradley but after seeing how uncomfortable he had looked you didn’t want this person ever coming near him again. With a huff, Mia rolled her eyes and stalked off. The moment she was out of sight you turned to Bradley.
“I didn’t mean to speak for you. I could tell you weren’t comfortable.” You apologise quickly, stopping only when Bradley kisses you, words catching in your throat.
“Don’t apologise.” Bradley whispers after pulling away enough to speak, lips brushing against yours with every word spoken. You nod your head slightly at his words before pulling away, determined to spend the rest of the evening with your friends and forget about the incident that had happened as you hoped it was a one-time event.
Oh how wrong you were.
Bradley had gone to the Hard Deck a couple of times while you stayed home or had work and each time had come back complaining that Mia had been there and had been completely disregarding his obvious boundaries and ignoring that he had a girlfriend, having been convinced it was a ploy to keep her away, he had told you. Bradley had told you that all of the Daggers had tried to help him keep her away, but she was a lot more persistent than they expected. All you did at the moment was hug Bradley tight, feeling awful that he was going through that without you to help him before you spoke up.
“Next time you go to the Hard Deck, I’m coming with you.”
True to your word, the next time Bradley and the Daggers organised a time to go to the Hard Deck, you made sure you were free to accompany Bradley. The two of you arrived at the Hard Deck, walking in hand in hand as your eyes immediately scoured the bar looking for Mia, letting out a small, satisfied sigh when you couldn’t see her. Maybe she’d gotten the hint after all, so you allowed yourself to relax as you crossed to the Daggers, greeting them all with a smile.
The evening progressed pleasantly, everyone laughing, playing pool, or gossiping about the new Top Gun recruits. Then the all-familiar bell rang signalling that someone would be paying for a round for everyone in the bar.
“I’m going to grab us all a drink.” You say, instantly excusing yourself to grab a drink for yourself and all your friends.
When you returned to the group, Mia was there. She had apparently escaped your skimmed searches of the bar and snuck in the moment you moved away from Bradley. You approached the table Mickey and Javy were sitting at and placed the tray down, immediately turning around and approaching her.
“Excuse me, I was very polite the first time that we met but I don’t appreciate that you keep trying to force yourself on my boyfriend and make him uncomfortable. Please leave him alone.” You say, firmness sneaking into your voice as you position yourself next to Bradley, noticing how all the Daggers immediately have their attention on you, ready to step in if needed.
“You’re clearly lying to yourself if you think that he could ever be your boyfriend. He’s way out of your league and much better suited to be dating someone like me. Besides it’s not like he was saying no.” Mia says with a snarky tone as she folds her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow as she looks you up and down.
“He wasn’t saying anything! Isn’t that enough of a hint for you?!” You cry out, growing more enraged when Mia just shrugs.
“I can tell when men like what I’m doing. Besides, men never say no. I know it can be hard to accept but sometimes men prefer people like me over people like you.” Mia’s chosen words enraged you so much that you did something you never thought you’d be capable of doing.
You punched her.
You would’ve regretted it had Mia not attacked you back. She practically pushed you to the floor and you were quick to drag her down with you, pinning her to the floor and just giving her hell. You couldn’t even recall what you were doing, you were just so blinded by your rage and this woman’s audacity. You kept throwing punches and slaps, as did Mia, a fair few coming into contact with you until you felt two muscular arms wrap around your middle and drag you off Mia and the moment you were clear, you were vaguely aware of Jake and Reuben stepping in between you and Mia as a barrier.
“y/n, honey, you need to calm down.” Bradley’s soothing, gentle voice whispers in your ear as he hauls you away from the chaos and holds you carefully in place, his eyes shining with worry as Natasha appears alongside him while Bob rushes to fill Penny in on what happened. Bradley guides you to the bar, sitting you on one of the stools while Natasha follows Penny to get you an ice pack. The second Natasha returns, Bradley takes the ice pack and holds it near your eye where he could tell a bruise was already beginning to form. You could hear Penny calling for Mia to be escorted out and given a ban from the Hard Deck and all you could think about was how grateful you were that she wouldn’t be around to bother Bradley anymore.
“I appreciate you defending me, y/n but you didn’t need to do this. You’re hurt.” Bradley mutters, eyes scanning you for any more injuries while he holds the ice pack in place.
“I couldn’t let her treat you like that. I just snapped.” You admit, looking up and making eye contact with the man you love.
“It happens to the best of us. I bet Mav’s done something like that before, it’ll be where you got that from.” Bradley says, smiling lightly as he changes the subject to bring a smile to your face which he was successful in doing.
“There’s no way dad hasn’t punched someone in the defence of someone he loves.” You giggle, wincing lightly when Bradley applies a little bit more pressure accidentally to the tender area, which of course makes him apologise instantly.
“I have to admit. It was really attractive seeing you defend me like that.” Bradley muses, moving the ice pack away from your eye and setting it on the countertop.
“Really?” You ask, feeling your face heat up at his words.
“Really. No one’s ever defended me like that before. It just means a lot more because it’s you.” Bradley says softly, cupping your face softly and leaning in until his lips meet yours, the kiss alone conveying everything Bradley needed to say. You both pull away when you hear the Daggers calling for both you and Bradley and you laugh as you glance from them to Bradley who lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head.
“I think we should head over so you can talk to your fans, huh?”
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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months
Text
Taking the Wheel
Time Written-10:47 p.m
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Dick Grayson/fem!reader smut
Clink, clack, clink, clack. The sounds of heels faintly echoed across the long since faded parking lot, carelessly crossing through thin spaces in between cars and trucks to throw the irritating bastard off your back.
Since you didn’t had arrive with friends, and the main reason you arrived to the packed Lounge, especially on weekends, quickly failed, you were left to walk a long ways across the vehicular maze to get towards your car.
A long, irritating walk on eroded asphalt, in obnoxiously irritating footwear.
Honestly? You could’ve cared less for the foot ache, attempting to push your pace to get towards your destination, your club mood spoiled over by a new desire of getting in your warm, vacant bed at home. Your attempt at distracting your endlessly rattled mind by going towards one of the hottest clubs in the city proved to be a complete failure.
This was Gotham. You knew better than to believe you were going to enjoy a night out for clubbing, completely ignorant to the possibility of the last man you ever expected to arrive, clad in his goddamn uniform, on the search for you.
The only way you learned it was him throughout all the blaring music and strong strobe light ambiance was the roar of patrons crowding around the hottest man of the hour around the dance floor.
What a stupid plan honestly, especially with the overwhelming presence of the obnoxious vigilante following shortly behind you, wondering if you were just doing this to get a reaction out of him.
“You can stop following me now, Grayson.”
It was strangely empty tonight, how he managed to shake off the crowds to go after you alone was a question you could’ve cared less to understand or answer.
"You're walking at night? Alone? You realize you live in Gotham, right?”
You only continued walking, holding yourself with your clutch purse tucked under your shirt, your heels scraping along stray parking lot gravel.
"Aren’t you cold?" Dick asks, trying to hide his worry about you being in that dress in this sixty five degree night.
He was right, watching your head shake no, despite how you carried yourself.
"Oh, come on." Dick says in assuming defeat, only to surprise you via cutting off your path by hopping up on the nearest challenger hood, abruptly jumping in front of your path.
“You can't just walk off like nothing just happened between us." Dick asserts, meeting your aggravated stare.
“Get out of my way—“
"Look, I'm tired of giving you space. Call me clingy, I don’t care. We need to talk about what happened, right now." The words sound more desperate than he intended, other than stern and demanding.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” You mutter, attempting to continue your walk before he holds a hand out in front of you, preventing you from squeezing past him.
"There’s always something to say,” Dick says, hoping you’d try to look back at him.
You’re clearly hurting more than you’re letting on. He can’t really blame you.
You’re no party girl, but you are a girl he hurt. Throwing yourself back out into the dating pool was a typical response, even he’s done it, but he can’t let that happen this time. Not with you.
"Let's... let's talk about this somewhere safe, okay?" He asks, looking down at you. You shift your head a bit, giving him an annoyed glare.
“I wanna go home, okay?” You nearly spat back to him, insisting to yourself that you had no patience to deal with him.
Dick doesn't immediately move in response, gazing down at you with sympathy instead of irritation, such a heart throb in his pretty eyes.
He probably practiced this often every morning in the mirror ever since you broke up, keeping you hooked like a mouse with cheese, or a pretty boy who always knew what to say.
“… Okay.”
He offers his hand out, awaiting your keys in his open palm.
“At least let me drive you home.” He offers, remaining stagnant until he received the only answer he expected. It’ll make him feel a whole lot better knowing you weren’t in the worst place in Gotham right now.
You could only huff through your nose before rummaging through your purse, pulling out your keys.
“Fine,” you mutter, dropping the item into his quickly closing hand. “Just home. That’s it.”
“That’s it,” Dick confirms with a hand raised before stepping off to the side, allowing you to walk ahead of him. “Promise.”
The car was warm, the heater constantly blowing warm air against your exposed back, nearly bumping back against your leather steering wheel.
The driver’s seat had long since been reclined, the material lightly squeaking in response to your sweaty bodies shuffling against each other. Lips battling in between teeth and tongue for dominance he willingly gave you, giving you the impression of control.
His body completely hidden by the suit, while you were still in your backless, black sequin party dress.
Sure, the car was private and warm, the alley was dark, the only light coming from the tiny radio screen, faintly reflecting off the various tiny black sequins of your dress, now pulled down from your torso, decorating your waist like a belt of dying stars.
You remembered the way his gloved hands impatiently unclipped the seatbelt so he could pull you across to his lap after an unprecedented, filthy make-out. The way he had purposely massaged the insides of your thighs caused electricity to shoot through you, needing you as close as physically possible, your short dress riding up precariously over your thighs.
"I should have done this sooner," Dick grunts against your painted lips while pinching your nipples in his thumbs, your nails rasping down the smooth material of his Nightwing suit, pulling it off his shoulders.
“D’you think someone will see us like this…?”
"No one's gonna be looking," Dick gasps out, his tone confident while dripping with cocky arrogance. "And if they do... who the hell cares."
Dick could barely focus on what was happening outside the car as it was.
For some reason, that thought made this all the more exciting. Not that the thought of being seen with a beautiful woman in Nightwing’s lap ever seemed like a bad thing.
“You looked amazing in this dress..." he runs a hand along the curve of your hip.
"But you look a lot better without it."
You’d physically cringe if you weren’t so damn aroused. Only someone like him could pull off cheesy one liners about eighty six percent of the time.
"So do something about it,” you whisper, nipping his bottom lip in your teeth, nearly contemplating on drawing blood once he chuckled.
"With pleasure, Princess.”
Wrapping an arm around your waist, he lifted you slightly with such ease, allowing him to pull his hard cock from the torturous material that suffocated him.
It would’ve been a much quicker process to undress if he randomly decided to arrive in that god awful disco suit, but it was far too late to complain now.
Prep was limited to the pleasant view of Dick stuffing three fingers into your warm hole, smirking at your hiss before raising them to his mouth, making a show of gathering his own spit while tasting you, before giving the tip of his red, angry cock a few quick strokes.
His fingers hooked your thin, messy panties to the side, hiding his mused smile from your gaze upon hearing your terribly hidden whimper as you felt the soft, blunt tip poking at your opening. A large gasp of air quickly invaded and evaded your lungs as you pushed down on him, feeling him splitting you open inch by torturously thick inch.
His own lust begged the rest of his consciousness to push further into you, aching to stuff the rest of himself inside your wet, greedy cunt. Luckily, you listened to your own thoughts, sinking yourself the rest of the way until you were properly seated, your bare thighs resounding against his with limited time to adjust.
"Holy-" He finds himself whining out, nearly crumbling apart from your silky, sweet cunt gripping him like a damn vice. Incidentally, his grip on your thong tightened after an involuntary thrust, forcing the weak band to snap apart.
The man could’ve cared less, carelessly tossing the ruined garment before gripping your hips with both hands, fingers hooking along your dress as an additional anchor to feverishly fuck you, hearing your breathing shift into quick, eager moans.
He wanted to take control so bad, but he was losing it before he even began.
The moans he emitted were heavenly, the muscles in his throat constricting as his head tilts back against the rest. He groans out your name in a delightful sigh, his fingers digging into your plush ass.
Lipstick prints littered his neck, eyes squeeze shut behind his domino mask.
“God, I've missed you,” the vigilante whimpers out, admiring your silvery necklace clink along the valley of your perfect, juicy tits bouncing erratically close to his chest, accompanied by the jingle of your matching bangles as you sunk your nails deep into the muscles along his back.
Dick's heavy lidded eyes gazed at your flushed face, your cheeks tinted pink with heavy, orgasmic blush. Your mascara stained lashes littered with cloudy black tears, bits of dappled glitter in the corners of your eyes, your signature touch, remaining poised along your perfect face. The picture he always looked forward to taking after every successful date night.
"Do you feel how much I've missed you?" Dick grumbles against your shoulder, his voice breathless, despite his best efforts to control his emotions. “Feel how hard, how deep, just fucking into this pussy? That’s all you baby.” The seemingly endless cooes against your neck render endless shivers down your spine, garnering the exact reactions he wanted from you; straining against the tight clench of your eager cunt.
"Oh-God. Fuuuck yes, missed you so much, princess,” Dick whispers, his tone filled with lust and excitement. He teetered on the edge of begging you to bite him again, to mark his neck up however with as many nips as you please, eager to see such raw evidence of your teeth marks in the morning.
“Mph— take it, baby. F-fucking take it all.”
You could only moan in response to his many words against his neck, your painted eyes nearly fluttering closed as you persist on your relentless pace. He was enjoying this a little too much, as much as you were, if not more.
Amidst the mind numbing euphoria of fucking his ex girlfriend in her own car, calloused hands full of black sequins and exposed skin, even he was calling himself an idiot in his own mind as he whimpers a lot louder than he intended within your shared ecstasy.
He was a damn idiot, thinking only about how much he’s hated being in a relationship with anyone except you. How much you’ve grown to become his favorite person; the one woman he needs every damn night. Every second of the damn day.
And if he wants to prove it by having you ride his cock in the seat of a car parked in a secluded alleyway, so be it. He’ll spoil you with a white plush bed caked in rose petals once after you agree to get back together with him.
"Ba-Baby..." Dick croaks through his stutter, his voice cracking slightly as he watches you come to an abrupt halt to his dismay.
A weak, pathetic grunt spews from his lips as you roll your hips, rocking along his lap, his bruised Adam’s apple bobbing after each whimper and whine. "Don’t stop—don’t stop. Shiiit, I’m begging you—“
His words muffle in a quick second as you stuff your ruined, bunched up thong into his mouth, cerulean eyes widening in surprise by boldness.
Many times he’s taken the lead, regardless over where your horny selves ended up. Any recollection of him doing this to you quickly faded once you locked eyes, his brows raised in surprise and submission to your taunt, prideful expression, lipstick smeared lips scowling in annoyance.
Right now, right now you wanted nothing more than to take out your frustrations on him. Even if it was one of the least violent thoughts you had when it came to him, you compensated via heavy scratches and relentless bites on his neck, and now this.
He wouldn’t be whining like such a bastard in a rut without your sweet, creamy pussy downgrading him from an arrogant, cocky, fearless vigilante into a raspy, quivering disciple. Bright, pretty putty in your hands.
Your hands grasped along the back of his head, purposefully frazzling his sweaty, perfect locks of hair as you eagerly chased another kiss. Your hands gripped his hair tighter causing him to take a sharp intake of air in.
You wouldn’t be such a quivering mess without the constant spear of his hard, delicious cock. A victim to this nearly endless cycle of ‘Fuck now, ask questions later.’
‘Or, just fuck some more later.’
You knew this, and you knew he’d give you what you wanted first before you even considered the idea of forgiving him.
“I need you to- fuck, j-just shut up. Shut up a-and keep going, Dick. Keep— Keep going. Just- Just keep fucking me.”
He stares straight ahead at the rich goddess amidst the fogged up windshield in front of him, his hands reinforcing his grasp along your thighs.
Obediently, he picked up the pace, the fat head hitting directly on your sweet spot much rougher and faster with intentions to leave you bruised, hoping you’d allow him to care for you for the rest of the week shortly after.
He moaned much louder against the damp, pheromone laced fabric, swallowing up your sickeningly sweet venom while he pistons his hips, making his soaking wet, twitchy balls constantly smack against your overstretched cunt.
Oh, if only you knew how much you drove Richard Grayson wild, if only you knew.
Hell, what was the argument even about? Neither of you could barely remember anymore.
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seren1tyhaze · 2 months
Text
poison in my mind
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PAIRING: idol!jisung x afab older stylist reader
WORD COUNT: 5.8k
SUMMARY: he has been your poison for years - Jisung with his innocent looking face, steely gaze, and wicked tongue. you do your best to keep a professional relationship with him during your work as a stylist for NCT Dream but his calls of "Noona" on set continue to test your patience.
AUTHOR NOTE: A VERY belated happy birthday to Andy Park and a big thank you to SM for letting us have that Poison live performance at the end of the year. This has been half written ever since the Poison track video behind vlog went up a million years ago but fueled even more by the dance intro at MMA. His more recent lives may have also served as inspiration. I hope you all enjoy this very self indulgent fic made especially for all my friends who also love Jisung <3
WARNINGS: explicit smut, idolverse, pet names (including Noona kink I'm so sorry)
PLAYLIST: Poison by NCT Dream, Quiet Down by NCT Dream, OK! by NCT U
dreaming 'bout you, dreaming 'bout you
~~ The set is buzzing with nervous energy in the dimly lit space, dark blue light cascading over the stage area dressed with large floral arrangements that almost make it look like the ocean floor. Renjun is talking to the camera filming their behind vlog footage and you look up from the shirt you are steaming when you hear his voice. 
“Dream will try for the sexy vibe for the first time,” with a sly smirk.
You can’t help but chuckle as the makeup artist next to you elbows your side and you tut at her, waving the steamer to quiet her. It wasn’t a secret that the Poison track video was going to be beloved by fans because of the concept and the way the members were styled. You had been tasked with pulling some of the key looks for the video, taking an opportunity to incorporate different textures like the metal grommets and fringe on the leather jacket Renjun currently was wearing. You watch proudly as he stretches his arms over his head in the center of the flowers, torso muscles rippling under the sheer mesh shirt.
You hadn’t been on staff for very long, a couple years of working under the main stylist under your belt. They had been hesitant to give you bigger opportunities due to your young age and lack of experience, but your boss saw that you had a great eye. It didn’t hurt that you were always the first one to volunteer for less than desirable tasks and always arrived early to shoots and stayed late.
“Sorry, this one’s a little too small, did you have others?” comes a voice behind you and you turn to see Mark, holding out one of the large metal rings you had laid out for him in his dressing room.
“Oh sorry, yes, of course,” you reply, smiling softly at him before kneeling down to dig in your bag for the small pouch holding the extra accessories. He was always so polite to the staff, greeting everyone and even when he was clearly exhausted, doing as many takes as the director needed.
“This one might work better and it’s adjustable,” you reply, taking his hand and sliding the ring on his pointer finger. You squeeze his hand gently before he inspects the rings, holding it out in front of him.
“Noona,” comes a harsh and low voice suddenly, causing you to move your head to the side of Mark’s leather clad legs to see an annoyed looking Jisung with crossed arms, shirtless and barefoot.
“Jisung, where is your shirt?” Mark replies, half laughing as he turns to face him, scratching at the back of his neck.
Ignoring him, Jisung returns his gaze to you and glares at your crouched position on the floor in front of Mark. A curious Renjun walks up at this moment, peeling a tangerine and flicking narrowed eyes between the three of you. Mark shrugs at him before walking away, answering a message on his phone.
“You tailored the crotch of these pants wrong, it feels weird,” Jisung continues, voice even and tinged with frustration.
Your face flushes at this, dropping the pouch back in your bag and grabbing your pins, suddenly on your feet and in front of Jisung.
“How do you know it’s wrong?” you ask, knitting your brows together as you look up at him. 
He looks good and you know he knows it. Something has shifted in Jisung in the past year - especially since they returned from tour. He carries himself differently, with a different level of confidence and wears it well. Today is no different and the fact that he just barged onto set without a shirt on is evidence. His dark blue hair is styled perfectly, long strands dangling in his eyes and contrasting beautifully with his sharp jawline.
“Here, feel,” he tells you simply, pulling your hand to his crotch and you almost let yourself palm him through the tight denim until you snap back to reality and pull your arm back. His eyes hold no emotion, dark and still, long eyelashes blinking at you temptingly. His lips are soft and plump and you want nothing more than to close the distance between the two of you and taste the glossy lip mask.
And there it is, your poison, Park Jisung. When you had graduated early from your program a few years ago, you had been focused on your career and hadn’t spent much time dating. You had some people you went out on dates with every once and a while and had your fair share of waking up in a stranger’s bed after a long night out. But Jisung had caught you by surprise. Something about the way he was so forward and aggressive with you made your brain turn to mush around him. Your heartbeat would quicken, palms sweat, and filthy thoughts would swirl in your mind until you could indulge in them with your hand pressed between your thighs later that night.
A heavy sigh comes from Renjun, accompanied by a shake of his head, as he walks out a nearby door muttering something about not wanting to see Jisung’s dick.
You flush violently, grabbing at Jisung’s bicep harshly and pulling him to his dressing room, leaving the door propped open intentionally as you take the layered black tank off the hanger and hold it out to him.
“Please put the rest of your outfit on, I think they are going to be ready for you soon,” you sigh as soon as you’re alone, reaching for the box that holds the platform boots you were reusing from a shoot with Haechan a couple months prior.
You both move silently as he pulls the shirt over his head, staring at the long leather cords before lifting his head back up to you. You move behind him, reaching over his broad shoulders to pull the leather cords around his neck and then letting the ends dangle in front of his toned chest. You try to avoid brushing your hands against his bare shoulders as he steps into the boots and ignore that his ass brushes against your stomach when he bends down slightly to zip them up.
“I just don’t know about these pants, are they the right length?” he asks, tugging at the material at his thighs. His tone is whining and defiant, lighter than how he was in front of everyone, but still slightly combative. He knows you’re weak for this very tone, as he can usually get you to do whatever he wants if he just adds it into whatever he says.
You sigh and move around him, dropping to your knees at his feet, slapping his hand away from pulling at the fabric. You pull the pants leg out of his left boot, pulling lightly and examining the hemline. You’re about to correct him when you suddenly feel his hand soft on your hair.
“You look so good from this angle,” he murmurs, voice low and sultry, causing you to jerk your head up and look at him from the floor.
Your lower lip is instantly caught in your teeth, sinking into the flesh deeply as you try to control your breathing, unable to stop yourself from blinking up at him. You feel drawn into his dark eyes and his hand in your hair is almost overwhelming.
He lets out a groan, tightening his fingertips on your scalp, exhaling audibly and clenching his other hand into a fist at his side.
“What am I going to do with you,” he tuts, dropping his hand to your chin and gripping it gently.
You rise from your knees, glancing at the open door just as Jaemin bounces by, screaming at something Haechan is doing. Suddenly aware of where you are, you step forward, adjusting the cords aimlessly.
“What happened to my sweet, innocent Jisung?” you whisper, staring at the soft skin of his collarbone and wishing you could press your lips against it forever.
“Don’t act surprised. You created this monster, Noona, dressing me in all these sexy outfits. How could you think I would stay your bright eyed baby Sungie forever?” he asks back, tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear. His words are biting, even if they do hold some truth.
Memories of him dozing off on your shoulder during long bus rides and hastily helping him into heavy jackets and necklaces during quick changes on tour come flooding in, mixed with the heavy, lustful stares you feel on you when you wear a low cut shirt or on hot summer days in Thailand when you wore thin athletic shorts in the airport.
He had kissed your lips gently a year ago after many bottles of soju and when the rest of the members were preoccupied by endless rounds of karaoke. You had stopped him then, told him that as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Ever since that moment, he had made every effort to get you alone when he could, using every excuse under the sun, today’s outburst nothing new. You still remember how soft his lips felt on yours and the fire under your arm as he held you close after you rejected him.
Back on set, you’re packing up your bag again when you’re called over to check something on the computer from Jeno’s scenes. You give your feedback and suddenly your eyes are drawn up to where Jisung is filming, camera close to his face, light illuminating his beautiful features perfectly.
“Dreaming ‘bout you, dreaming ‘bout you,” echoes across the large soundstage and your heart is pounding in your chest as he plays with the cords at his neck, just as you had earlier, chests pressed up against each other in the dressing room. He makes eye contact with you briefly when the take ends and you look away quickly, embarrassed.
While you had been released to go for the day, you take your time packing the rest of your stuff, helping the makeup artists clean their station and even rearranging some chairs that barely needed adjustment. You watch the way he moves confidently, take after take, adjusting the jacket so his shoulders show boldly against the dark material. His fingers brush through the cords, pulling them up to his teeth at times before dropping them, leaving plump lips open before cracking a large smile at the reaction of the staff. In between takes he shakes his dark hair, casting his gaze down to the floor until someone asks him a question. You watch as he smiles and winks at the makeup artist powdering his cheek and you feel nervous energy stir in your stomach. You can’t bear to watch much more, so you slip out when he isn’t looking in your direction.
When you finally are home, feet pushed into fluffy slippers and sipping on steaming green tea you had just prepared, you peel the sheet mask off and rub the remaining serum into your cheeks and forehead. You are flipping through a magazine your coworker had given you on set, paying attention to the tabbed pages they had flagged for inspiration when your phone buzzes on the table next to you. A message from the head stylist fills your screen as you tap into it.
Jisung left his street shoes at set, did you take them home? He said he “needs them” for tomorrow. 
You sigh and go to the shoebox by your door to find his Nike sneakers tucked neatly, laces wrapped nicely. You quickly reply to your boss, saying you don’t mind bringing them to the dorm since you know the managers had a late night meeting tonight. Running a brush through your hair, you dot some perfume on your wrists and behind your ear before grabbing your keys.
You fiddle with the edge of your oversized sweater in the elevator as you climb the floors to his dorm, feeling a nervous pit grow in your stomach. Finally outside, you knock quickly before dropping it down to hold the box with both hands.
The door swings open and Jisung is standing tall in front of you, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair damp. A dark zip-up hoodie covers his chest and it’s unzipped just enough that you can tell he isn’t wearing a shirt underneath. You can’t help but let your mind wander back to shirtless Jisung pulling your hand to his crotch earlier and wonder if he was just lounging in his room in the sweatpants. Or worse, just his boxers.
“Hi baby,” he slurs out, lips curving up at the edge into a mischievous smile as he props his arm up on the door, leaning down as if he might kiss you. His sweatshirt hikes up on his waist when he does this, revealing a large swath of skin.
You shove the box at him, pushing him back into the room with it, letting it drop into his hands. You fling your bag on the table near the door and step out of your shoes.
“Don’t hi baby me, Park Jisung. I know you left these there so you could see me tonight. Did it really take you multiple hours to realize you weren’t wearing the shoes you came in?” you reply with a huff, picking up a sealed water bottle on the kitchen counter and taking a long sip.
Sweat is pricking at your hairline and you are starting to regret not texting one of the assistant managers or drivers to come get the shoes instead.
Jisung chuckles and sets the shoebox on a chair, reaching out to take the water bottle from you and gulping down the rest.
“Don’t be mad, baby,” he replies, leaving heavy emphasis on the pet name, stepping closer to you and wrapping strong arms around your waist, thumbs instantly finding the hem of your sweater and travelling across your lower back.
You can’t help how your body reacts to his touch, feeling your chest meet his, nipples hardening under the knit fabric now tugged down and exposing your cleavage. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to speak, looking up at him through your eyelashes for the second time today.
“Come on, I’m catching up on our show,” he says softly, lips grazing across your cheek gently. You had been watching the same show for the past few months, texting each other during episodes here and there, and chatting about it whenever you saw each other. He had complained none of the other members would watch it with him and while you would never let him know this, you had lied and said you were also planning to watch it.
Against your better judgement, you let him guide you to his small room, where his large tv is paused on the latest episode of the space docuseries.
“Oh, I haven’t watched this one yet,” you admit, dropping down to sit at the edge of his bed.
He clicks to restart the episode and unzips the sweatshirt, moving to remove it and reveal his bare chest.
“Jisung,” you say sternly and he chuckles, zipping it back up halfway, and plopping down on the bed next to you. He pulls the hood up over his dark hair for good measure before propping himself up against the pillows he has leaned against the wall. You settle back, leaving some space between the two of you and pulling a hamster plushie into your lap to nervously fiddle with.
While your eyes had started to get heavy back at your apartment, you are now wired, your body coursing with electricity and hypersensitive to every movement from the man next to you. He reaches for his phone occasionally, letting out light chuckles at messages from Chenle and even daring to post a couple Bubble messages. You thank whatever higher power exists that your phone was still tucked in your bag at the door, so he didn’t see yours light up when he sent the message. It was a drunken guilty pleasure you had indulged in and ever since receiving the first message tailored with your name, you couldn’t stop yourself from renewing the subscription.
His legs keep brushing against yours when he readjusts his position on the bed and somehow has gotten so close that his shoulder is now brushing against yours. You try to shift away, but he only closes the distance again when you do so. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re having a difficult time focusing on the show.
Suddenly the screen is filled with bright colors as they depict beautiful graphics of what scientists imagine the birth of a star looks like and a gasp falls from your lips as you lean forward, eyes flickering across the screen to take in the beautiful scene.
“You’re so pretty when you nerd out over this stuff,” comes his low voice, suddenly close to your ear, hand resting in the middle of your back.
You lean back in reaction, trapping his arm between you and the pillow, turning slightly to face him.
“Coming from NASA’s number one stan, please,” you reply lightly, shoving the plushie at him playfully. You let a chuckle fall from your lips and shake your head lightly, causing your hair to cascade over your shoulders.
He grabs at it and throws it off the edge of the bed, hands suddenly tight on your hips and pulling you into his lap, possessively gripping your ass as you straddle his legs. 
Your lips drop open in surprise, both of you breathing heavy at the sudden movement. You feel your responsible self tapping your shoulder but finally decide to let the years of desire bubble to the surface and propel your lips to close the gap with his.
You move your lips across his gently, resisting the urge to push your tongue out immediately or bite down on his lower lip. He tightens his grip on you in response, pushing his crotch up to meet yours. You swear you can feel him through his pants which only makes you want him more.
He pulls away, taking your cheek in his other hand and looking between your eyes as if searching for some sort of silent answer to a silent question. You can almost see his own voice of reason forcing him to pause, if only for a moment.
“You ready to deal with the consequences of that monster you created, Noona?” he asks in a devastatingly low tone before moving his lips down to mouth at your chest, pushing the knit fabric to the side to bite at your shoulder.
A sigh falls from your lips as you let your head roll back, entire body on fire as he marks the skin at your neck, teeth sharp on your skin. You can’t help as your hands slide over the zipper of his hoodie and unzip it slowly, pushing the fabric down his shoulders to expose his toned chest. Running your hands over his hard muscles, you dig your fingernails gently, eliciting a deep groan from Jisung.
“Babyyy,” he sighs out, sliding his hand up to your throat and applying pressure there, pulling you forward to meet your lips again. The kiss is more urgent this time, tongue pressing deep into your mouth and hand gripping you tighter as he continues.
You let your hands slide down his torso, running over his abs and sliding them to his back to pull yourself closer to him. Before you can pull yourself fully flush against his chest, you are being flipped over, head falling back into the pillowy surface.
“Are you sure about this,” you ask, voice wavering despite every intention you had to form a confident question. Your eyes are flicking between his dark ones, as they had many times before, but suddenly holding so much more meaning in this intimate space.
“Are you not?” he asks back, head cocking lightly to the side, thumbs never stopping the circles they are rubbing into your hip bones.
“That’s not an answer,” you quip back, grabbing onto his hands to force him to focus. Unfortunately for you, it did the exact opposite.
You pull your eyes away from his, looking at your hands now pressed up against each other against the comforter. Your hand looks tiny next to his, his fingers could almost wrap fully around the tops of yours and that makes your mind fuzzy. You pulse your fingers, stretching them along his, feeling the length of them and how hot they are to the touch.
“Noona,” he calls, not as harsh and biting as on set, but still drawing you back to reality quickly.
His voice finally softens as he sees your watery blinking eyes, overstimulation creeping up on you before you’ve done much more than make out. He drops his thumb down the side of your face, caressing the space between your ear lobe and jaw tenderly. You want to look away, you want to push up and capture his lips in yours, you want to pull that stupid hamster plushie over your face and hide your burning cheeks.
“You know, I want it, I like,” he states, as if that is a full sentence other than in the context of the song they were filming with all day. His lips turn up in a small, shy smile at the end, showing a glimpse of that quiet boy you’ve always known and your heart settles a little in your chest. You nod rapidly a few times, sinking your nails into the palm of his hand and letting your eyes flutter shut.
His lips are on yours again quickly and that wicked hand that was just caressing your skin is now tightening around your neck again, which forces you up into an arch on the bed, pressing your lower body against his hardening cock. His tongue feels hot and wet in your mouth and you can’t help the moans that are escaping every time you have to pull back for air.
He sits up, straddling either side of your legs, tugging at your shirt and you manage to sit halfway up on your elbows, almost tearing the delicate fabric of your sweater as you rip it off, fumbling with the clasp of your bra as Jisung’s mouth is suddenly latched onto your neck, dropping heated kisses down your collarbone.
He sees you struggling and simply presses a strong thumb to the clasp, letting the cotton fabric slide off your arms and he tosses it clear across the room. This draws your attention to the door, which you realize now is cracked and you pray to every higher power that Renjun isn’t home.
“Hey, eyes on me,” comes the low voice above you again and you’re drawn back in, tuning out the distractions around you. He seems more amused than annoyed, which you have to appreciate given how long you’ve both waited for this exact moment.
Jisung makes quick work of removing his pants and boxers, reaching for a condom from his nightstand as you push down your own sweats, pausing at the thin band of your underwear. He sees you, dropping the foil packet to the bed and dips his head down, teeth dragging the elastic quickly, causing you to jump and let out a giggle.
“SUNG!” you yell weakly, trying to push his dark blue locks away as he continues to drag the dampened fabric down your legs.
He somehow manages to do it pretty easily, without getting too caught up on your knees or thighs, only struggling once he’s at your ankles and ripping them off with his hand, letting them drop to the floor with your bra.
He simply shrugs at you, a smile tugging at his mouth as he smooths those huge hands over your thighs, kneading the flesh there, eyes transfixed on your naked body. Your whole body is on fire and you silently beg for him to get on with it, even as it looks like he is about to swallow you whole.
A creeping monster your in your brain tells you you should feel more self conscious with him seeing you like this, despite both being equally exposed, realizing how many times you’ve seen him half clothed or even less. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he reaches up, covering your breast easily with his hand, thumb teasing your nipple absently. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but hold your breath as pleasure begins to flood through your body. 
You beg your own gaze not to lower, not ready to see the size of him fully hard. You’ve unfortunately seen almost all the members’ dicks but usually in quick, embarrassed, accidental glimpses. Well, except for that one time Jaemin was literally helicopter swinging it around in the dressing room when you walked in with a tray of iced americanos. Both him and Jeno couldn’t speak to you for two weeks while Chenle continued to bring it up every chance he could, even mimicking the motion during sound check at their next stop.
You are startled at the sound of him tearing the condom wrapper, rolling it quickly on and leaning back down, face inches from yours as he cups the side of your face again. You instinctively nuzzle lightly into his hand at the contact, letting your eyes flutter shut as you draw your lips to his hand, smelling faintly of the lube from the condom. You kiss in between his thumb and forefinger lightly and before you know it, he’s slipping his thumb in between your spit covered lips, pad of his finger gently pressing against your tongue.
You gasp but drag your eyes lazily to meet his, knowing your own hunger is visible now not only in your gaze but also in the eager sucking of your lips.
He groans, taking the chance to push into you and you swear you see stars. Your eyes widen but pull his thumb further into your mouth, teeth grazing across the tip of his finger erratically as your hips buck up to pull him impossibly close.
Jisung’s eyes are fluttering shut, thumb dropping from your lips, now flushed red with teeth marks and slick with spit, sliding down to clutch your throat once again. Your own hand flies to your chest, groping at yourself, desperate for something to hold onto as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.
He’s quiet, but with deep and passionate groans tumbling from his lips every once and a while. You watch as sweat begins to form at his hairline, perfect face beautiful in the dim light of his room, quiet music floating from his tv’s speakers as the episode is long forgotten and scrolling through the credits screen endlessly. Each noise that bubbles up from his chest equally soothes and paralyzes you, your own personal brand of poison seeping coldly through your veins. Your lips are perpetually hung open, mouth becoming so dry you can barely squeak out your own moans.
You feel your orgasm building suddenly after a particularly strong thrust and you swallow harshly, moving to speak to alert him. He doesn’t need any warning, reaching down to throw your leg over his shoulder and angle his lower body to perfectly hit that same spot over and over.
In seconds the poison is washing over you, lapping first at your feet like waves at the shore, nearly knocking you out as you float high above yourself, almost feeling like you’re having an out of body experience. Your chest is heaving as he slows his movements, as if he’s going to pull out. 
A confused look forms on your face, head cocking to the side as you grip his arm, shaking your head wildly. Your hair is sticking to the back of your neck and you feel too hot on his plush bedding, but that isn’t reason to stop.
“Wait…what about…” you ask, confused, knowing he hasn’t come. Your eyes flick to the door again, wondering if he’s heard something while you were swimming a galaxy of bliss post orgasm.
He smiles at you, sliding out slowly and disposing of the condom quickly. He walks back over and takes your hand, bringing you to rise on shaky legs, standing naked beside his bed as he takes both your cheeks in his hands and kisses you deeply on the lips.
“I was thinking it would be better to continue what we started on set,” he purrs against you when he finishes ravaging your swollen lips.
A mischievous look forms in your eyes and you drop your hand to his stiff cock, giving it a few experimental pumps with the mix of lube and pre cum.
“Oh yeah?” is all you can reply, sinking slowly to your knees, still managing to tease him at this moment. You drop your hands to let them rest at your thighs, pressed together in an attempt to cool the burning heat still there.
He hisses out as soon as he can see you below him, bicep flexing as he runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head in feigned annoyance. His lids are heavy and all you can see are the whites of his eyes as they roll up in ecstasy.
You run your hands up your body, fingering the side of your neck and then tangling your fingers in your own hair seductively, never looking away from the man standing above you.
“Show me how good you can be for me, Noona,” he grunts out suddenly, gripping your chin way tighter than he had in the dressing room earlier. You grit your teeth but try to keep your face even as he tilts your head lightly, as if studying your face.
You gulp audibly and take him in your hands, finally faced with what you already knew was going to be stretching your cheeks as you were definitely going to struggle fitting him in your small mouth.
You tongue at his slit teasing it gently before sucking at the tip, letting it rest in your open mouth, eyes flicked up at him menacingly. You can tell from the look in Jisung’s eyes that he is dying to ram his cock down your throat but is trying so hard to let you set the pace.
Without any warning, you're sliding him further and further into your mouth, hands massaging his smooth calves to ground you. He’s getting louder now and one of his hands is playing in your hair, every once and a while gripping it tighter.
It only takes a few gentle thrusts till his voice becomes more strained and he’s tapping you on the head as a poor attempt of warning you he’s close. You resolve to let him spill into your mouth, but as soon as he comes the sudden movement causes most of the mess to land on your cheek and shoulder.
His loud exclamation of his pet name for you still ringing in the air, his hand loosens in your hair and you’re on your feet, hands settling on his broad chest, a hazy look of satisfaction on your face.
He seems mesmerised by you covered in his cum and draws a thumb up to that same spot between your ear and jaw, sliding it down and through the mess he made on your face. It’s as if everything’s moving in slow motion as your bottom lip drops open without a word and he slides his thumb into welcoming lips. You taste him, all of him, as he watches you suckle on the digit and blush form on your cheeks under the shine of your skin.
“Fucking filthy baby,” he whispers out, yanking you towards him as he sits on the edge of his bed and lifts you into his lap. 
You can feel him harden under you and feel yourself warm up as his cock brushes against your core. You grind down on his lap which is met by him only gripping your waist tighter and landing a light smack on your ass. You grin at this and lean forward to kiss him, pushing your tongue greedily into his mouth.
“Already wanting more?” he asks with a mild mocking tone when you pull back, breathless and red in the face. He’s fully groping your ass at this point, massaging your cheeks with his fingers and pressing his palms into the thick flesh there.
You nod aggressively as you grind down on his cock again, spreading your thighs a bit more for better leverage. You want nothing more than for him to slide his bare cock into you right here and let you ride him through multiple orgasms, your tits bouncing right at eye level as he groans into your mouth through open mouthed kisses.
He merely laughs, pulling you out of your fantasy and reaches awkwardly for another condom, hand firmly keeping you in place.
“As much as I want what you want right now baby, let’s make sure there’s no-“ he starts out, rolling the condom on with shaky hands.
“SUNG, PLEASE!” you yell, clasping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.
Even in the midst of it all, all the lustful years leading up to this moment, all the hidden glances and late night drunken thoughts, he is still your poison. Something that worms its way into your mind, into your heart. Normally, you wouldn’t even imagine being this close to someone without protection but somehow, Jisung does something to you that makes you want to be reckless. You want to be reckless with your heart, let it be swallowed whole by him. You want to throw your body on him, let him tear you down and degrade you and use you. You want to give him everything and every bit of love you can offer. You think you can see the two of you growing old together, sitting quietly in a park watching your grandchildren play together in the distance.
But you see, that’s the problem with poison. It gets in your veins, in your lungs, in your heart and slowly sweeps and finally, finally tears you down. You float high above yourself again, seeing stars as Jisung releases into the condom and his head falls against your chest. You are both quiet and unsure of what comes next. The poison of this night will wear off soon and reality will set in, leaving you only the memories of this night to return to in your dreams.
~~
316 notes · View notes
spacey-cg · 8 months
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Tips for Being an Agere Caregiver
⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫
Being an agere caregiver is a role filled with love, patience, and understanding. Whether you're new to agere caregiving or looking for ways to improve your caregiving skills, these tips will help you create a safe and supportive environment for your little one!
Communication: Communication is key in any caregiver-little relationship. Create a safe space for your little one to express their feelings, fears, and desires. Encourage them to communicate openly and assure them that their thoughts and emotions are valid and respected.
Embrace Play: Play is an important part of agere caregiving. Engage activities that help with imagination and creativity. Join your little one in their favorite games, participate in imaginative play, and be an enthusiastic playmate. Remember, this is a time for bonding and building happy memories.
Practice Patience and Understanding: Being patient and understanding is essential in being a cg. Your little one may have moments of frustration and tantrums. Stay calm, validate their emotions, and provide reassurance. Understand that their needs may vary day-to-day, and flexibility is key in providing the support they require.
Set Clear Boundaries: Establishing clear boundaries is crucial for both you and your little one. Clearly communicate your expectations, rules, and limitations in a loving and age-appropriate manner. Consistency is important for creating a sense of security and structure in their world.
Provide Comfort and Security: Create a nurturing environment by ensuring your little one feels safe and secure. Offer comfort items like stuffed animals, blankets, or their favorite toys. Develop routines that provide stability and reassurance. Show affection through cuddles, gentle touches, and warm words of encouragement.
Practice Self-Care: Being a caregiver requires emotional and physical energy. Remember to take care of yourself, too. Prioritize self-care, maintain healthy boundaries, and seek support from other caregivers or communities when needed. Taking care of your own well-being will enable you to provide the best care for your little one.
⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫⭐️💫
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boyfhees · 2 years
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WHEN YOU'RE JEALOUS
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ft. oikawa, kuroo, tsukishima, suna, akaashi, osamu
w. don't know mate lmk if you spot any
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OIKAWA
"what was that for?" you ask, pointing at the box of chocolates as he stuffs them in his bag. "oh these? i helped a classmate with one of the assignments so she wanted to thank me," oikawa replies, missing the sour look on your face. "yeah okay, let's go," albeit, it didn't take him long to notice the pout on your face as you walk a few steps ahead of him, unlike usually. "are you jealous?" he asks mockingly, nudging your shoulders. "am not," — "you are," — "am not," — "you are," — "i am not jealous, 'ru." he pauses, looking at you as you avoid eye contact with him. "then you wouldn't mind if i eat the chocolates, and help her more frequently, right?" you shoot him a glare, blinking away just as quickly before walking again. "yeah, whatever," — "see, you are jealous ! oh my god, and you called me lame for being jealous over that boy last week !"
KUROO
he may deny it, but kuroo gets jealous easily. it doesn't even have to be a human, you can fawn over a character and manage to get him jealous. of course, he's good at hiding it, but you're even better at catching on with the taunting remarks. so when he notices your glare possibly burning holes on the florists back, he knows it's his time to shine. "can i get your numbe—" she asks, only for you to cut in the next second. "no. my boyfriend doesn't have a phone," you blurt out, completely ignoring that kuroo has been holding his phone in his hand. he laughs, putting hand around your shoulders, "i'm sorry, apparently i don't have a phone." you're quick to leave the scene before he catches up to your pace, eyes sparkling with teasing remarks. "jealous now, are we?" he mocks, earning a scoff in return. "shut up," — "jealously is a disease, yn. get well soon."
TSUKISHIMA
one thing you didn't expect today was some random girl crash your date with tsukishima after he helped her with certain things. and while it's clear that she's thanking him but it has been ten minutes and you're growing impatient. ( not to mention, you've got bookings for a movie ) so, you just stand at the distance, watching him as he's trying his best to have his way out of the conversation. "by the way, do you have a s/o?" she asks, a little too loudly and kei has never seen you so raged, or to put it in better words, restless. "yeah, they're standing there." and with that, he walks up to you, drinks in his hands as he passes one to you. "maybe if you'd've helped me, you wouldn't have to wait so long," he snickers as you roll your eyes. "actually, i thought you wanted to watch the movie with her." — "are you jealous?" you know he doesn't need an answer to know that you are.
SUNA
fortunately, or actually unfortunately enough, for you, suna is no stranger to confessions, compliments, or even flirty remarks. and usually, he dismisses them knowing that you don't want to see people hitting on him. however, this time he was having a blast watching you glare at the barista as she flirted with him while he made the payments. "can we meet up sometime—" she asks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears which makes you roll your eyes and prompts you to interrupt the two. "no," you pause, standing next to suna. "my boyfriend isn't interested." you feel him chuckle next to him, brows furrowing at the sight of the barista breaking into giggles. "yeah no, pretty, it's a prank. just wanted to see your reaction," he clarifies, his words followed by a swift apology from the other girl as you snicker before pushing him away. "you suck," — "didn't see you complaining when she was asking me out."
AKAASHI
you feel your patience running thin with every second that akaashi spends with the girl from his physics class. it's not like you have a problem with him interacting with other people, but you do have a problem with her because she's clearly trying to flirt, very well aware that you're dating him. "keiji, shall we go?" you interrupt, lacing your hands with his. "let's meet on sunday—" she speaks but you beat her to it. "we're going on a date on sunday." cue akaashi going '???' with his eyes wide open because out of everything, a date was never on the list for weekends ( not like he complains, though ) good for you, she left without anymore questions, though with a bitter expression but you couldn't care less. "these people need to accept the truth that you're taken and stop flirting." you mumble, followed by his giggles as you send him a confused stare. "what's so funny?" and he laughs even more at your expression. "you're jealous." — "i'm not!" — "oh my god, you're jealous. i'm telling bokuto," he's isn't letting you live that down.
OSAMU
you've had enough of people confessing to him every other day, just because your relationship was private. well, it was your decision, and you already regret it. so when you spot another girl approaches him with a box of chocolates, you're quick to rush to the scene, wrapping your hands around his arms before shooting her a forced smile. "he appreciates the effort, but we're dating," first of all, he's shook because first, you're suddenly announcing the relationship publicly, and secondly, you're jealous, which is new for him. the girl leaves on her own accord after apologising, thankfully, and that's when osamu turns towards you, shooting a perplexed look. "you're jealous." you kind of dislike how he states it as matter of fact, especially with a straight face that morphs into a taunting expression within seconds. "what do you mean?" he chuckles at this newly found side of yours. "i just lost a bet with tsumu because i said you don't get jealous," — "you both made bets on this?" — "my money, yn."
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adventuringblind · 4 months
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Joint Coping
Lestappen x Reader
Genre: Angst
Dialouge: "Help me understand."
Summary: Max helps his partners learn to cope in healthy ways
Warnings: Selh-harm, unhealthy Coping, blood, Ferrari, Max being the sane one of the group
Notes: I would like to emphasize that this is a thing that does happen. I know because I've done it. This specifically is not something to be glorified at all. Self-harm done in groups can become competitive. This is a pretty toned down version of things I've experienced and it's less toxic. THIS IS NOT REACHING OUT. Just wanted to clarify :)
This is part of my 1000 follower celebration! Requests are still open if you'd like to participate (the link will take you to the request form).
Masterlist
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Max knows something is wrong with his partners. It's like an itch in his brain he can't scratch. A sixth sense, if you will.
The two Ferrari drivers are struggling with their team. Every problem is their fault. They have become the Ferrari scapegoats. When they do poor, it's the driver. When they do good, it's the team and the car.
He's coming to the end of his patience. If he has to hear them self deprecate one more time he might actually consider making them stand in the mirror and say nice things about themselves. Can he fuck it out of them? Is that a possibility? He really doesn't know but is desperate and willing to try anything.
They both DNF at the next race. Max is a man on a mission through media and debrief. He needs to see that they are okay. At the very least not sitting through some kind of lecture a parent gives to a child.
He sprints to the Ferrari garage and runs into Carlos. Despite his injury that took him out of the season, he still comes to support his team and teammates.
"Carlos!" The Spainard spins around to face him. "Have you seen-?"
"They already left over an hour ago. Did they not text you?"
There are warning bells going off inside of his head. Something is clearly wrong and they aren't telling him about it. He's about to sprint away when Carlos stops him.
"Before you go, you should that there were some awful things said by their engineers and they looked really upset about it."
"Thanks Carlos."
Max is back at the hotel as fast as he can manage. He tried both their cells with no answer. It's killing him from the inside out with anxiety. He's probably just overthinking, but it'll feel better when he sees they are okay.
He keys the door open and doesn't bother taking off his shoes. The lights are off aside from the one in the bathroom. Maybe they decided a nice relaxing bath would do the trick. Max could also go for one. He pushes that thought aside for now.
He knocks gently on the door. "You two in there?" No response. Or at least - not one to him directly. There are a few hushed whispers, but nothing loud enough for him to hear.
He waits Aproximatley ten seconds before he can't handle it anymore and swings the door open. He expects to see fogged mirror and water on the floor. Instead he's met with the sight red wrists and thighs.
He's lost. Max Verstappen has no idea what to do.
They are stripped down to undergarments. Legs dangling over the side of tub. A switchblade in the hands of Charles. They both look teary eyed and doped out. Are they enjoying this?
God, he feels so stupid. Weeks of having Sex with no lights on, sweatshirts in hot weather, no swimming and doing private ice bathes away from trainers. He should've noticed. Max could've stopped this sooner. He wants to rewind and tell them to come to him instead of relying on this to get the through.
"Guess you caught us." Charles let's out a half assed laugh. "You gonna stare at us all night? Or can we get the yelling part over with? Last three partners left us when they caught it. I understand if it's to much. Not your burden."
Max had been a later addition. The two in the bathtub had been together since their teenage years. Had they been Coping like this for so long?
"Sorry about the mess. Relapses are hard. We made it all season until a month ago." She leans her head onto Charles' shoulder. How can they make this type of environment endearing? This is unreal and they need serious help. Which Max will eventually get them when he can get his act together.
He kneels on the floor in between them. Max is just now registering the tears on his cheeks. They'd been in pain for so long. It hurts him just thinking about it.
"I'm not going to yell-" he looks at one. "-I'm not going to leave-" he looks at the other. "But help me understand. I want to help."
"It's easier to do with someone else around. It's more therapeutic." The lopsided smile on the female's face is not helping Max. He has to many questions.
First, he gets them cleaned up. Neither of them flinch when he disenfects the wounds. They don't look at him as he wraps them in whatever gauz is in the first aid kit. They look ashamed as he puts the knife in his bag and rinses the tub.
The one that gets him, however, is the look of pure confusion when Max hugs them both so tightly. It's like they don't know how to respond.
They sit in a circle on the bed. It's comfortable and Max can see both their expressions clearly.
"I know the struggle." He starts. "Punishing yourself is better then someone else doing it, right? But I had Daniel there reminding me to reach out."
"It's just easier this way."
"Easier isn't better. Look at the state you're in. I'm not leaving, but I am getting the both of you help."
He followed through with this the next morning. Then looked supposed to see him when they woke up. He, and his childish mind, kissed all the cuts and scars. Every single one of them received proper treatment.
The female cried and thre her arms around Max. Charles had looked away in shame. The reasons they started this are still foreign to him, but that's not his priority.
He gets them help. All of them, mind you. They do group sessions as the three of them to find healthier ways to cope with each other.
Reasons seem to fade into the background because they don't matter as much. The important thing is that Max caught it in time. That he didn't lose them to their own minds. They are partners, and Max would be devistated to lost someone he loves to those dark places.
He rests easier now that the itch has been scratched. His partners are doing better. They smile and laugh at his stupid jokes again. A bit of confidence regained.
And Max reminds them daily that nothing is worth it if you have to destroy yourself for it. Drivers or not, he loves them regardless.
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deonsx · 6 months
Text
If They Cheat On You
Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Jouno
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Content: Cheating..
Dazai Osamu
The man you loved more than yourself in the world doesn't come home anymore, even if he comes, he comes drunk and late at night. When you saw him like this, you asked him a lot of questions, but he dismissed them all with the excuse of "work"
It was one of those nights, you sat on your seat overlooking the sea and started waiting for Osamu, but he didn't come early as usual, hours passed, you only thought about him, you had no patience anymore, finally the sound of the key was heard and the door opened, a familiar silhouette entered, turned on the light of the dark room and made you see him clearly. messy hair, rumpled trench coat, unbuttoned white shirt, and a faint smell of alcohol
You stood up from the couch and directed your step towards the brunette who finally noticed you. You looked at his indifferent face. His face was no longer looking at you with those tender, happy and loving eyes as before.. his gloomy face was dragging you into the darkness, "You-" just as he was talking, you saw bite marks under his scattered bandages and The truth you never wanted to accept has finally been revealed
Your eyes filled with tears as if they were burning, the tears stinging your eyes made you wrinkle your face "Why..? Just tell me.." the seriousness on his face did not change but the brunette let out a deep breath "I'm sorry you're right you deserved at least an explanation s/o" your eyes filled with pain even more. His face, indifferent and not caring about you anymore, was hurting you. “Now..I don't feel anything for you anymore”
Chuuya Nakahara
Your boyfriend was sleeping around at work for a long time and this made you suspicious after a long time, you finally decided to go to his workplace. It was the middle of the night, everywhere was dark except for one part, in that part, white light was leaking from under Chuuya's office, he was a hard worker. You knew that's why you never insisted, but now... you hear moaning sounds coming from your boyfriend's office
"No, this can't be real" you chose to tell yourself false stories in a light whisper and denied seeing the truth, but your steps were slowly approaching those voices, you could see Chuuya through the glass door and..a blonde girl was sitting on his lap.. "You smell of wine, my love" Chuuya was thin. He said it while kissing a certain woman's hands..the lies he told you...was he telling her now?
You had the strength to open the glass door even after seeing this.. slowly your hand reached for the door handle and the door opened wide to look at the faces of the duo who had not seen you yet and yes, now they were both looking at you with serious but nervous eyes. "S/o...?" The name he bestowed on you with kisses on your warm skin every night was now telling you while another woman was in his arms
He looked away but then the woman got off his lap and hid behind him "What, you think I'm going to hurt her?" You said it with a smile of pain, but chuuya said the thing that broke you, "Please don't hurt her, she's not guilty."
Fyodor Dostoyevski
A new woman had come to the place where you worked with your boyfriend, she was the same age as you and a model-like woman. She was brunette, tall, with colorful eyes and a melodious tongue. You were always suspicious of someone like her, but you trusted Fyodor very much. A month passed and you only saw the woman in the mornings. Apart from that, no one could find her, and this made you suspicious
Something escaped their mouth as they listened to their co-workers gossiping "This new woman is around that guy every day" Your friend said with a pout on her face and the others agreed, you frowned "She has a boyfriend? How long have you known?" When you asked this, the surroundings fell silent, everyone had a worried expression on their faces, they were so relaxed that they didn't realize you were there
They turned to you, who was leaning behind them in the doorway, and coughed rapidly, "Nothing! Come on guys, let's get to work!" Everyone disappeared in a hurry, but that was enough to make you cringe. You weren't stupid, but you had some ideas about who this man was, your boyfriend Fyodor? Was it him? You used to leave work first every night, but before this sitation we used to go out always together
You waited for it to be night and you waited for the message that Fyodor sent you every night. Finally, your phone rang and every day's message was mailed to you in the same way. "Honey, I have a busy workday today, see you tomorrow." The sign you were waiting for came, you slowly walked towards the direction of his office, that is, the basement. No one would enter this floor unless something important happened. After all, it was the boss's office. "Slow down, dear!" a girl moan?
Finally everything came true and it was that girl's voice.. you didn't want to go in and show yourself and you didn't want to cry in front of the door you quickly ran out of the office and went to the shared house you lived with your boyfriend and packed your things then before turning off your phone you sent him one last message "I throw away the one who gave me pain, I'm leaving you”
Nikolai Gogol
It's been a long time since you've been together, every moment you spent together made your heart soar and butterflies fly in your belly, he made you feel very special, he was with you in every moment, these are what you thought when you looked at your pregnancy test, the butterflies in your belly have given way to a beautiful child
You were going to give him this surprise when he got home and that's why you decided to tell him that you were not at home. You sent a message saying "Honey, I'm going out to have fun with friends tonight" Now all you had to do was wait for your boyfriend
But your boyfriend didn't come home, it's been a long time, but he didn't come home. Under normal circumstances, he would come through the door of your house sulking, having finished his work... you called him to make sure and he answered the phone after ringing twice. "Hello, love?" Hearing his affectionate voice on the other end of the phone made you even more happy to wait. "Nikolai, I called to let you know that I will be late," you said with a chirp. After 1-2 minutes, you hung up the phone and continued to wait for him
It was 10:00pm when you heard the door lock and yes you could finally hear her chirping laughter but you thought "What is she laughing at??" You thought it must be one of his stupid jokes again. When the door opened, you waited to greet him, but when he walked in with a woman, your world fell apart. Your boyfriend's laughter faded quickly, his face looked at you with tension. "You/him?" You were just looking at the woman he brought with him
You had a big fight and you even tried to attack the woman but instead of explaining to you nikolai protected the woman and this drove you crazy "Were you cheating on me!? all this time? was everything a lie!" You slapped Nikolai hard, but he didn't speak, the woman next to him spoke to you instead. "Please don't hurt him!" what.. were you to blame?? Why did they put you in this position?
You quickly left that house with the child in your womb, you cut off all ties with him without needing to tell him. Before leaving, he said only one thing to you: "I couldn’t leave you when I should have left.. I'm sorry”
Jouno Saigiku
Everything was thought out thoroughly, a beautiful table and official candles that highlighted the romance of the table, a nice meat dinner, everything was ready for our 3rd anniversary, and now you just had to wait...
Hours passed but no one came, Jouno didn't come.. he was late some days of the week these days, but you got confirmation from him whether he could come for today's surprise... but he didn't show up, you decided to call him as the clock hit 1 am. He didn't answer, you sent him a message but he didn't reply
Now you were just worried and you didn't know what to do, it hurt to be ignored, he had promised you but he wasn't here, what if something happened to him? You called each of his coworkers and they said he had already left work. To his surprise, he had already finished work 2 hours before your scheduled time.. so where was he now?
You just waited.. the clock struck the morning and you were desperately worried about him on the table where there were already melted candles. When you heard the door being unlocked with the key, you got up with excitement, he didn't care if he was late or he forgot, we were just wondering if he was hurt or not, until the door opened and jouno with messy hair and Until you see come with kiss marks on your jacket
"What is this jouno..?" You asked the confused man as your eyes scanned all traces of him, He didn't answer and that drove you crazy You pulled his shirt and started yelling at him "3 YEARS! 3 WHOLE YEARS AND YOU CHOOSE TO CHEAT ON ME ON OUR ANNIVERSARY!?" His hands moved to the ones you were choking him with and he moved his head away "This day wasn't special...it's been 5 months s/o"
Enjoy!
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randombush3 · 29 days
Note
Kinda miss Fleur and Alexia bickering 🫣 can I get a request a one short of them getting into a fight
sorry I took ages to do it - I've been trying to think of a scenario. I imagine that the dutch players have had a very miserable international window lol
[...]
I slam the door behind me. 
There are few things in life that cause me absolute devastation, but this week has been one of them. I’m tired, I’m angry, and, what’s worse, I’m resenting the fact that Alexia’s apartment is bright and happy. 
She smiles as she emerges from the bathroom, perhaps not hearing how I entered as I used my own key. 
I take it as smugness. (I want it to be smug.) 
“Hola, mi amor,” she says with caution, heading over to greet me after not seeing much of each other for the best part of a week. She must sense the tension because her smile dampens, victorious glow from winning fucking everything fading away. 
“Hey,” I mutter, tone clipped and curt and dripping with resentment. Alexia approaches, concern beginning to make her frown, reaching out gently to touch my arm. 
I jerk it away from her. 
For the briefest of moments, I feel a long-dead emotion: hatred. I loathe Spain’s success, am jealous of it, and it is not fair that it comes at my expense. Not when we are together, not when we are no longer enemies. 
It was easy to play against Alexia when I was her rival. I could tackle her freely and let my teammates foul her when she was too good to beat, able to watch on without remorse. Seeing her hit the grass brought about a vindictive, satisfied feeling, and I relished in it. 
Being her girlfriend is a lot harder, and it has been a while since I have had to play on a different team to her. It has been a while since we lost to Spain, but, just like they did in August, they have crushed our dreams once more. 
My dreams. 
The Olympics are more special to me than any other tournament, and will continue to be until the games are no longer valued in women’s football. They are my family’s history, the gateway into my relationship with my mum, and they are now out of my reach. 
I huff out a breath, struggling to contain my emotions. “We lost twice so we won’t be going.” I tell her what she already knows but she does not rub it in. “Jaimie is going to qualify.”
Alexia looks at me, piercing eyes seeing through the floodgates I have shut. She must realise that I have cried on the plane – maybe even that I hadn’t stopped crying since we played Germany, only reining it all in as I made my way up the stairs to her place.
“What do you want, Alexia?” I snap as she attempts to touch me again, blinking myself back into reality and hoping I don’t start to cry. 
Clearly, my wounds have not been nursed enough. 
Alexia recoils, hurt flashing across her features before she schools them into something harder. Her jaw clenches. Maybe she thinks I am being immature. “What’s wrong with you, Fleur?” she asks, her voice tinged with frustration. “I know you're upset….”
“Oh, like you care,” I retort, bristling at her words. “You seemed happy to run around with Jenni, celebrating your socks off!” 
Her eyes narrow, patience wearing thin. “Excuse me?” She doesn’t sound convinced that I am the real Fleur de Voss, looking me up and down to check I haven’t been replaced with someone else. 
“You clearly have let it get to you. Have you forgotten what it’s like to lose?” 
“Oh, of course,” she scoffs, “because that has never happened to me before. I was inconsolable after we lost the Champions League final; I didn’t come out of my room for–”
“Please, spare me the sob story.” I roll my eyes. “You’re on top of the world right now, Ale. Spain wins everything and you keep adding to your list of victories, crushing anyone who dares to get in your way. And the worst part is, you don’t even play! You don’t even play, and you act like you have done it single-handedly, with the biggest grin on your face–” 
“Do you think I enjoy seeing you in pain?” She trembles with anger. She shouts, and she hasn’t meant to be the first to do that because she instantly steps back in regret. I may have flinched at the shock of her volume, but now I square my shoulders, daring her to fix my heartbreak. “Do you think it didn’t take all my willpower to not go over to you, to not comfort you, or hug you, or try to make you feel better? Do you think I wasn’t trying to get to you as soon as I could? Or that, in Sevilla, I didn’t look at flights to Germany so that you wouldn’t have to spend the night alone?” She steps towards me. “I know how much going to Paris meant to you, to your family. Believe me, I heard what your mother said to you – even if my English isn’t that good.” 
“Your English is fine,” I mutter, instinctively destroying her stupid insecurity. 
“Fleur, how could you think I take pleasure in your losses? You know me better than that.” 
I shake my head, unable to quell the storm of emotions raging inside of me. “I feel like I don’t know anything right now,” I admit, hardly audible. 
I was going to the Olympics. I was sure of it. 
Jaimie and I were going together, and, although Mum competed for a different flag, we were going to follow in her footsteps; continuing her legacy because she promised me I would be good enough to do that. She promised us both, time and time again. 
She may have left us, but she was the one who wrangled me a spot in the Australian youth teams. She started my international career for me, and I was going to repay her by showing her it was worth it. 
What is it worth now?
“All I know is that I’m tired of feeling like my best isn’t good enough, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending everything’s okay.” 
Suddenly, this is about more than just losing the Nations League and not qualifying for the Olympics. This is the fallout of the Ballon d’Or, and we both know it. Alexia seems to have seen this coming. 
“I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” she begins, though guilt courses through me because I know it would have been asking the impossible of her, “but I’m here now.”
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lyjen · 2 months
Text
Duty Calls pt. 3
Summary: Patience is key, is what they say. Evan doesn’t know how to hold himself together, while (Y/n) is in surgery.
A/N: This is the last part of “Duty Calls”. Requests are welcome! :)
Part 1:
Part 2:
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Evan was pacing through the room. At times like these, waiting on someone he cared about, he couldn’t sit still. This was the only thing he could do what made him calm down a little. His heart was pounding in his chest. 
“Buck, can you please just sit down?” Eddies voice sounded through Evan’s eardrums. 
The 118 was in the hospital too. Evan wanted to stay, and they wanted to support him. Even though they didn’t knew the sergeant he seemed to have a close connection with. So they decided to take the rigs out of service, so they could be with him. 
He had promised her, he’d be waiting for her. He couldn’t break that promise. He didn’t have the heart to do that. He couldn’t just go back out there, fighting fires and saving people when one of the people he cared most about was hurt. 
For other people, she was just another cop who had gotten hurt on call. But not for Evan. There was an unexplainable chemistry between them, which they couldn’t ignore or deny. 
“Why is it taking so long” Evan murmured while he paced again through the waiting room. Completely ignoring Eddie’s request to sit down. Evan let his hands rest on top of his head. He was clearly impatient and getting anxious.
“Hey, she’s in good hands. At times like this, patience is key.” Bobby’s voice sounded through the waiting room, while his eyes connected with Evan. “I just wished she mentioned her stomach was hurting earlier. Maybe then she wouldn’t have coded on scene.” Evan’s voice sounded broken. He was clearly blaming himself for not noticing she had gotten hurt. Even though she seemed fine, and wasn’t complaining. Evan put his forehead against the wall, he wanted to slam his head into the wall, but he knew it wouldn’t make anything about this situation better. He was angry, sad, happy because she made it to the hospital alive. So many feelings were rushing through his body, he couldn’t describe it. 
He felt a body standing closer to his side. A hand fell on his shoulder as he was still leaning with his forehead against the wall. He pulled his head back, so he wasn’t leaning on the wall anymore, as he looked to his right. Hen was looking at him with a concerned look on her face. She squeezed his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be blaming yourself for this. You couldn’t have known.” Hen tried to talk him out of the negative thoughts he had. “I was with her the entire time. From when she got out of that house, till the moment she collapsed in my arms. I could’ve noticed something!” Evan hissed. 
“She was fine when I saw the two of you sitting on the back of the ambulance. There weren’t any signs she gave you, or us to notice that gunshot wound.” Hen assured him, letting him know that he didn’t miss anything. He didn’t do anything wrong. “But. What I do know, is that she isn’t going to get any better if you keep blaming yourself for this.“
“And that, that girl is not agreeing with your conclusion.” Hen continued after a moment of silence. Hen motioned towards the chairs with her head. “Come on, let’s sit down.” she said. Evan wanted to say no to her. That he wouldn’t sit down until they had news on his new friend, may I say crush. 
But Evan finally agreed to sit down. Evan sat down next to Eddie, who gave him a pat on the shoulder. And Hen gave him a pat on the knee. Telling him he was okay. Evan’s elbows leaned on his thighs as a hand wiped over his face. Patience is key. 
………………………………………………………………….
Every now and then, a nurse or doctor enters the waiting room, calling out a patients name. Every time when one of the workers enters the room, he could hear his own heartbeat pounding in both of his ears. He sat up straight, waiting to hear them call (Y/n)’s name. Whenever they didn’t call out her name, he sunk back into his chair. 
After a rough 40 minutes, after the last doctor had left the room, another doctor enters the waiting room. Evan sat up straight again, focussed on the doctor. Hoping to hear her name. 
“(Y/n) (Y/L/n)?” The doctor calls out. As soon as Evan hears the sound of the first two letters, he jumped up and hurried towards the place where the doctor was standing. As soon as the doctor turned to Evan, she started to explain the situation. “H-how is she?” He stuttered. He felt a few more people coming to stand behind him and on the side. Bobby put out his hand on his shoulder. 
“Your friend is fine, the surgery went well. We removed the bullet from her body and were able to clean up the mess it made to her organs. The only thing we couldn’t prevent is that she may get a mark from the wound. She also inhaled a lot of smoke, so we got her on some medication for the symptoms, and of course oxygen.” The doctor explains. It’s a lot. Evan panted, as he releases a breath he didn’t knew he was holding. “Thank you.” He speaks through his breaths. “Uh, can I see her?” He carefully asked the doctor. 
The doctor closed the document she was holding in her hands and held it in front of her body. “Yes, you can. But, she is still coming back around from the anesthesia. So it may be that she’s still asleep. She just came out of the surgery 15 minutes ago so she should be waking up any minute now.” The doctor answered. Evan didn’t have the words for it. So he nodded at the doctor as she leaves the group of people standing in the waiting room. 
Evan turned to his team. “What are you waiting for? This is your time!” Chimney said as he stuffed a crisp in his mouth while he grabbed for some more out of the little bag.  “What am I supposed to say to her?” He asks his team. Eddie laughed. 
“So.. you’ve been waiting in this room for hours. And now you’re panicking about that?” Eddie spoke. Evan didn’t know what to say, so he just went silent and stared awkwardly to the ground. “Dude just ask her out. We’ve seen the way you act around her.” Eddie continued. 
“Okay so, you want me to go in there and be like: Hey! Welcome back! Do you want to go on a date?” He says with a fake smile like the question didn’t make any sense. Eddie put his hands on his hips and stared at Evan with a serious look projected on his face. “You know that’s not what I meant.” He looks him dead in the eye. “Okay now… Buck, calm down. Just be you, that’s more than enough. And you know that.” Bobby interrupted the two and puts a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “If you need us, we’ll be here.” Bobby nodded towards Evan, as a sign for him to go. 
Evan nodded, and spun on his heels and walked through the hallway. 
………………………………………………………………
Evan peeked through the window of the room, which was partly covered with blinds.  He saw her just lying there on the hospital bed. Her eyes were closed and underneath her nose was an oxygen tube. He just stood there, in front of that window. Looking at (Y/n), but with the tube underneath her nose, it was like he didn’t recognize her. She was always smiling when she was near Evan. That’s how he remembered her. 
With a trembling hand, Evan’s hand slipped onto the lever of the door. He took a deep breath, pushed the lever down and opened the door of the hospital room (Y/n) was in. Evan slowly walked into the room and took place on the left side of the hospital bed she was lying on. Still asleep from the anesthesia. 
After a few moments of just observing her, his hand slid into hers, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. He sighed. Unsure what to do, should he say something? Should he stay quiet? He didn’t knew. As he feels (Y/n)’s fingers putting a little pressure on his hand. His eyes went from their hands together, to her eyes. She was slowly coming back around. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the suddenly bright LED Lights on the ceiling shining into her eyes. A smile started to form itself on Evan’s face as he notices she was opening her eyes.
“Hey there sleepyhead” Evan spoke softly. The familiar voice ranging into her eardrums made her smile weakly. She scanned the room. (Y/n) was trying to figure out what was happening. She felt something underneath her nose, her right hand slowly made its way to her upper lip where oxygen tube was resting on. She wanted to grab it, and pull it away, but Evan’s other hand stopped her from grabbing the tube. “No, no, no.. don’t touch that.” His voice sounded as he pulled her other hand away too. He was now holding both of her hands, and gave them a gently squeeze. Her eyes met his again, “You’re still here” she whispered, barely audible. “I told you I’d be here, I don’t break my promises.” He reacted and pulled a chair, which was standing next to the hospital bed, closer and took a seat as he looses the grip on her hands. 
(Y/n) placed her hand on his cheek. Evan smiled slightly at the touch, and felt jitters jumping up and down in his stomach. “What did the doctor say?” She asks, her hand still remaining on his cheek. He took the hand of his cheek, so he was able to speak freely. And took her hand in both of his, elbows resting on the mattress of the bed. “The surgery went well, they took out the bullet. But you inhaled a lot of smoke, but you got meds for that.” He answered her question. “The doctor also told me that the wound probably will leave a mark.” He continued. Her neutral look which was projected on her face, seemed to fade. And morphed into a sad look. 
A feeling of sadness and failure rushed through her veins. She was marked for life if the scar didn’t fade away. Every time she would look at herself in the mirror, she would be remembered of that call. It wasn’t the worst memory, but she would’ve tried to forget it as soon as possible. But with that mark on her, she would always be reminded of that day. 
She feels one of Evan’s hand rubbing over her wrist. And kissed her hand. “It’s gonna be okay.” He tried to reassure her. (Y/n) just stared in front of her, into the space of the room. “you’re gonna have a bad ass scar.” Evan tried to give her a pep talk. She wanted to smile because of his reaction. But she couldn’t.
The room filled itself with silence. 
Evan tried to make the best out of things. “You know, if I looked at the mark..” he started. “The first thing I’d think of is how brave you were, to get into that basement all by yourself. All that matters is that you pushed your own feelings a side, to try and stop a simple argument. And yes, there went something wrong, but you got yourself out of there. That’s what I’d see.” He finished his speech. 
They were silent. Just looking each other in the eyes. (Y/n) looked to her right, so she wasn’t facing Evan anymore. She bit her lower lip, trying to bite away the tears which were blurring her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to blink her tears away. 
After a few moments, she felt a hand cupping her cheek, which made her head move towards Evan, so she was facing him now again. His thumb swiped away a tear, which was starting to roll over her cheek. Adrenaline ignited in (Y/n)’s stomach. His eyes were dwarreling from her eyes, to her lips. His hand moved from her cheek to her neck. Evan came closer to her and conquered her lips. She placed her hand on his cheek. Their lips disconnected, she could feel his breathing, he was panting. Her nose was almost touching his. 
He looked into her eyes and she looked into his. When their eyes connected, they both smiled. Evan took a breath and let his forehead fell against hers. 
This is going to be an interesting little relationship. 
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