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winchesterwild78 · 16 days ago

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Broken pt 1

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader (wife)

Warnings: Angst, Infertility issues, Language

A/N: Idea given to me by @cheekygirl2309. This one is a little different than what I usually write. It has angst, lots of angst to start, and infertility issues. It's going to be a short series.

Minors DNI 18+

I stood at the sink in our shared bathroom waiting and staring at the test on the counter. Another month has come and gone, another month of trying to conceive. The timer went off and with shaky hands I looked at the test, negative. My heart broke.

Jensen and I had been trying for months to get pregnant and nothing we did was working. Frustration was beginning to take over and overshadow the possibility of being a parent.

Jensen sat on our bed, phone in hand and leg bouncing. I walked out of the bathroom and he looked up at me, “Well?” I shook my head no. He let out a frustrated sigh and ran his hands through his hair and down his face.

“Jens, I’m.” He lifted his hand and cut me off. I felt a pang of sadness fill my chest and a lump form in my throat.

“Just don’t, please. Don’t say how sorry you are. It’s not your fucking fault. Maybe we should just stop trying.” Tears pricked my eyes at the harshness of his words.

“You don’t mean that, Jensen. Please, we can keep trying, we can go to the doctor and see what’s going on. Please, don’t give up on this.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m leaving for Toronto in a few days.” I spun my head and looked at him, “What?! I thought you were home for a while.”

“Well I guess not. We were called back for reshoots.”

“Damnit, Jensen! This is why I can’t get pregnant. You’re never fucking home. Between filming and your convention schedule you’re not home long enough.”

“Y/N, don’t start! I have obligations to the people I work for and with, and to my fans. You knew what you signed up for when we got married.”

“I didn’t sign up to be alone all the time, and obligations!? What about your obligations to me, to us, our marriage? Does that mean so little to you?”

“Fuck! I’m not going to spend the next few days arguing with you.” Jensen growled and grabbed his suitcase.

I stood in disbelief. The tears that pricked my eyes were now falling, and my chest felt like it had a massive hole in it.

I stood watching him pack and load up his suitcase without saying a word. As he passed by me he looked at me briefly but then looked away. No words were spoken.

Jensen carried his suitcase downstairs while he was on the phone. He was booking a plane to leave tonight. An audible sob left my lips.

“Jensen, are you really leaving tonight?” Without looking up he said, “Yes.”

“Jens, please don’t do this. Please stay here. We need to figure this out.”

Jensen’s phone went off. He looked at it and stood up, grabbing his suitcase, “I have to go. Goodbye, Y/N.” I swallowed hard. I usually drive him to the airport.

Before I could respond he was out the door, no hug, no kiss goodbye. I let out a loud sob and collapsed to the floor. He left.

My world spiraled around me. The harsh words we spoke to each other replayed in my head. Did he really just walk out, did I lose him?

Jensen’s POV

I climbed in the Uber and headed towards the airport. My harsh words replayed in my head. The hurt on her face with another negative test and again when I left. The Uber driver was nice, making small talk, and I tried to be polite.

My world was crumbling and I plastered a smile on my face and ran away from the problem. I’m a fucking coward. We wanted a baby, and I can’t even give her that.

She’s right, I leave her alone too much. How can I expect to get her pregnant when I’m only home for a week at most.

Reader’s POV

I cried, harder than I had in awhile. It felt almost therapeutic. I stood up, locked the door and crawled into bed. I grabbed Jensen’s pillow. The faint smell of his shampoo and cologne lingered on the pillow.

I missed him so much it hurt. Was this argument the one that broke us? Will we be able to fix this and move forward?

I looked at my phone, hoping for a text, but I had nothing. He left. Left without hugging me or kissing me. He left early so he didn’t have to deal with this argument. He was done. Done with me, with trying for a baby, done with our marriage.

I decided to send him a text. I had to lay it out there for him so he knew exactly where I stood.

Me: I don’t know if you’ll read this, or if you even care, but I had to send this so you knew what I was feeling and where I stand. Jensen, I love you. I’ve always loved you and I always will. If you don’t want me, us anymore I get it. I just want to know. You left me tonight. No kiss, no hug. Just a cold shoulder and not so much as a goodbye. I deserve better than that. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten pregnant yet. I don’t know why I’m not, but I was willing to keep trying. I know every time the test comes back negative it hurts, but this hurts worse.

Jensen, we made a commitment to each other and I still believe in it. I’m okay with putting trying to have a baby on hold, but I’m not okay with putting us on hold. I hope you have a safe flight, and I truly hope you still believe in us enough to fight for us. I know I do. Please call me or message me back. I love you, Jens, today, tomorrow, forever.

I sat my phone down and curled in a ball. Sleep slowly washing over me.

Jensen’s POV

I sat in the back of the SUV taking me to the apartment I had rented for filming. Shit, I forgot to turn my phone back on.

As soon as I turned it on a message came through from Y/N. Arriving at the apartment I grabbed my bags and walked into my place.

Pulling out my phone I read the texts. Tears pricked my eyes. I let out a frustrated sigh, and ran my hands down my face.

I fucked up big time. This was one of the first tests in our marriage and I ran like a coward. No wonder she thinks I want out of our marriage.

I looked at the time and realized it was really late. She was probably asleep but I didn’t want to just text her. I took a deep breath and called her.

“Hello” she answered groggily.

“Hey, sweetheart. I got your text.”

“Jens, oh. I’m so glad you’re okay. Baby I’m so sorry. I know this isn’t easy on you. You were right, I did, do know what I signed up for with your schedule and your job. I let my frustration get the better of me.”

“No, I’m sorry, Y/N. I left you alone in this, and ran like a coward. You have every right to feel the way you do. Hell, I feel lonely too, and I’m surrounded by people. I can’t imagine how you feel. Baby I don’t want to stop trying for a baby. I love you so much and I still want us and a baby. I am so sorry I spoke to you the way I did and left you instead of working through this. Say the word and I’ll fly back home tonight. I don’t care about the shoot, you’re more important to me. Our marriage is more important than the shoot.”

“Jensen, I don’t want you to fly home. You have to stay and go to work. How about I fly to you in the next day or two? I’ll take some time off work and come to Toronto.”

“That would be amazing, sweetheart. I can book the ticket and let you know. Oh sweetheart, I am so sorry. I wish I could hold you right now.”

“Jens, I do too. I’m sorry too. Promise me we won’t do this again. If we get into an argument or have any disagreement we will talk it out. Stay and talk it out.”

“I swear, Y/N. I’ll never run off again. I love you too much to throw this away.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me Ackles.” He chuckled, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I yawned and so did he. “Jens, I hate to cut this short, but I’m really tired. Thank you for calling me baby. That means so much to me. I love you, baby.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll let you get some sleep. I love you, darlin’. Good night, Y/N.” “I love you too, Jens, good night.”

We hung up and I placed my phone on the bedside table. I smiled, pulled Jensen’s pillow to me and fell asleep. Feeling a bit better.

I fell asleep, my heart lighter than it was before, knowing we were both willing to fight to save our marriage.

My last thought before I fell asleep was, Now that Jensen and I have made the commitment to always keep communication open, what else could go wrong?

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Tags:

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573

@k-slla @jackles010378

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

@roseblue373 @cheynovak

@jassackles @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75

@superrey @kamisobsessed

@obliviousap @ninii-winchester

@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny

@bobbdylan @star-yawnznn

@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98

@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen

@mandee7 @barnes70stark

@spnaquakindgdom

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader

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sushiwriterhere · 2 years ago

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pink light

summary: "He had done as best as he could, had stayed through a pizza dinner huddled on your bed. Your mom had tried to soothe you after he’d left, promising you’d find your person, that it wouldn’t always feel this way, being the butt of the joke. You didn’t really believe her–but how do you describe feeling like you’re always walking into the middle of a conversation, missing out on the inside joke and not really ever belonging?” rating: teen + up pairing: jake seresin x f!reader (unrequited) word count: ~4k warnings: unrequited love, angst, potentially ooc!, no use of y/n. notes: this is my first fic in a long while and my first attempt at top gun/writing hangman. also incredibly self indulgent and therapeutic – please feel free to tell me what you think!!! not beta'd <3 after some consideration, I have decided I will not be writing a second part to this fic.

If you had to describe your relationship with Jake Seresin, how you knew him, you’d probably say friends since childhood, fellow military brats, maybe even Thing 1 and Thing 2. You two were inseparable from the moment your parents introduced you. Despite any worries about Jake being a few years older, he took you under his wing. There you stayed–ever his dutiful shadow. He’d invite you to parties, let you sit on the sidelines during sports practices, field snide comments about your relationship.

Now, here you were however many years later, having followed him to Fightertown after a brief stint of separation during college and him in flight school. You’d followed your parents desires dutifully, getting a degree in something ‘useful’ and maintained a slew of internships, part time jobs, and your studies all at the same time. But all you ever really wanted was a routine, a quieter place in the world. Your classmates went off to graduate school, first-year positions at big consulting companies, and all you wanted to do was be near Jake.

To his credit, he’d taken it completely in stride. He’d helped you apartment hunt and settle in, had talked to Penny about getting you a job and so there you were, reunited again. Except something was different.

It was a secret to absolutely no one that you loved Jake, deeply. At first your parents had laughed quietly at the puppy love, the way you quietly followed him around, blinking owlishly behind your glasses and just nodding along to whatever he was blabbering on about at the time. Then it was a bit less funny, watching Jake go through high school and all of a sudden be tall, blonde, and handsome. You didn’t really have the words for what you felt, so you just watched as he had girlfriend after girlfriend, each of them treating you with a range of emotions from kindness to outright disdain.

It had been especially bad once–you’d been asked out as a joke by one of the more popular kids in your grade. You’d shyly accepted before being met by laughter that echoed around the hallways, everyone turning to look (if they weren’t observing already).

Your mom picked you up early that day.

“I’m going to beat his ass.” Jake burst through your bedroom door, interrupting your quiet sniffling and causing you to jump with surprise, “Tell me who it is and I’ll fix it.”

You paused your crying to force out, “It’s fine, Jake.”

The scowl on his face was as dark as a thousand nights, “Oh it absolutely is not. I’ll make his life a living hell next year.”

And there he was, saving the day as always. You’d cried harder that night after he left, apologizing but he “had a date” that he couldn’t miss, not even for you. He had done as best as he could, had stayed through a pizza dinner huddled on your bed. Your mom had tried to soothe you after he’d left, promising you’d find your person, that it wouldn’t always feel this way, being the butt of the joke. You didn’t really believe her–but how do you describe feeling like you’re always walking into the middle of a conversation, missing out on the inside joke and not really ever belonging?

So when you and Jake had drifted slightly during his time in flight school and your eventual transition to college, there again was that feeling. Like you were watching your own life on an old TV, trying to tune the frequency and always coming back in in the middle of the plot, not sure where you were supposed to be and with whom. The calls became infrequent, more apologies than actual conversation. Then the first deployment happened, and the letters were brief, impersonal.

Somehow, even now, in the same town, in an apartment not far from base, from where he lived, you felt like there was a part of the story you were missing. You tried not to let it gnaw at you but seeing him come to the Hard Deck with his buddies, sitting there on the sidelines for beach football, seeing how close he had gotten with the other fighter pilots in your absence–now that stung.

But you had to focus on the everyday, the constants.

“That better not be a phone on my bar!” Penny’s voice rang out over the din of the shouting in the bar, and you felt yourself laugh as you watched Mav’s face turn bright red.

“I’d be happy to re-open that tab of yours, Maverick.” You grinned at him, and he shook his head.

“I knew I should’ve stopped Hangman from talking Penny into hiring you, you’re more on her side than mine.” You smiled at the man, glad for his presence–besides you knew he didn’t mean it.

Your parents were far away, and though they loved you, they were always just a bit detached. Military parents just tended to be like that in your experience. So having Mav and Penny around really made Fightertown feel like home. And certainly, having Jake around didn’t hurt at all (despite the distance).

And like speaking the name of the devil, over the chaos you heard your name–Jake.

“How’s my favorite bartender doing?” You’d never get over that smile of his, the one he reserved for you (at least you hoped). It was all teeth, crinkles by his eyes, and joy.

You shook your head, “No matter how much you flatter me, I’m not giving you free beer.”

“You wound me,” the smile never faltered, “But I’m actually not here for a free drink. I’m here for all that worldly wisdom that you gain by being a bartender. Psych’s of the drinking world, something like that.”

Rolling your eyes, you poured a gin and tonic without sparing him a glance, “A major in psychology does not count as me being a psychologist, Jake.”

“Ah, see, but you’re also a woman, so that means you’re qualified to help me out.” This time, he wasn’t looking at you when you turned your attention to him.

Look, you weren’t dumb. You’d understood since his early high school years that Jake had become a very handsome, very charming man. He’d always been cute, and you’d always thought he had a certain air about him, but somehow shooting up to a solid six-foot and spending all his time in the gym had really done it for every other woman ever. And the string of girlfriends, one night stands in between, never stopped. So you just resigned yourself to nodding along.

Absolutely nothing about that part of Jake had changed in flight school or beyond, apparently. And he seemed determined to make his way through the female population of Fightertown. For what it was worth, at least he never let them think anything of him but exactly what he was offering–a good time, and nothing else. That’s what he wanted and what they gave him. So him asking for advice from you because you were a woman? That made something clench tight in your chest and grit your teeth just a bit.

“So now I’m a dating guru?” A rum and coke with a smile to the patron who didn’t even glance at Jake, “Here’s your card, sir, enjoy your evening.”

When you finally made eye contact with him, he just had one eyebrow raised in that incredibly irritating way of his, “Uh, no. But you have feelings and you like poetry and shit, so I need your help.”

If there was one thing that Jake’s string of one night stands was good for, it was letting you maintain your silly daydream of him wisening up one day and seeing you the way you saw him. This, however, felt like a punch in the stomach, like someone had come in the middle of the night and stolen all the spouts off every liquor bottle in the Hard Deck. You wouldn’t necessarily be flying blind during an evening of pouring drinks, but there would be a lot of spillage and a really high chance of tears.

“I’m not helping you manipulate some poor girl, Jacob.” The full name card; his eyebrow lowered a smidge, “Besides, why don’t you ask Phoenix? She’s a woman.”

He groaned and slumped over on the bar. Gross. You hadn’t had a chance to wipe it since the start of the evening rush, and that had been a very, very, long time ago. You ignored his mini moping session, hoping he’d give up asking you about poetry (what the hell?) and feelings. This was the last thing you wanted to deal with right now.

Instead, he just stood straight up after a few moments of grumbling, smile intact as ever, “Phoenix doesn’t count, I’m pretty sure her dick is bigger than mine. But you’ll help me right? C’mon, where’s the Bug I know? You used to do anything I’d ask you to.”

A low blow, your childhood nickname. It still stung sometimes that he called you that–you hadn’t been ‘bug-eyed’ since freshman year of high school since you refused to put your middle school glasses back on and your parents had relented and let you get contacts.

You huffed, “Leave me alone, Jake, I have to work.” You bent over to start breaking up the blocks of ice in the cooler by your feet, if only to hide the way your face was bright red.

He slapped the bar counter, signaling his retreat, at least for now. This was not going to end well.

Not going to end well? That was the understatement of the year. Whichever girl Jake had his eyes on now was clearly different from the others. He hung around after your shift to annoy you again, and this time he would not take no for an answer. Following you around as you closed, he lifted kegs and moved twenty pound bags of ice, all the while managing to maintain a monologue all about this girl. At some point you almost considered breaking a beer bottle over his head if only to get him to stop talking for ten seconds.

“Listen, just this once, okay? I just really want your help. Tell me what to do.” How was his voice carrying from where he was under the pool table, scraping gum off the underside. “God, this is fucking disgusting–Penny makes you do this every night? It looks like this hasn’t been cleaned since she bought it.”

Penny actually pretended she couldn’t see the nasty shit stuck under the pool tables, but Jake was annoying you enough that it didn’t matter. Anything to get him to stop asking you for advice about this girl.

“Please shut the fuck up or go home.” The sound of you throwing a wet rag into the bucket by your feet echoed throughout the empty bar.

You’d had enough. At this point it was almost four in the morning and all you wanted was to lay down for the next forty-eight hours and not think about anyone or anything.

His head popped out from underneath the table with a look of surprise. You usually didn’t tell him off, at least seemingly content with letting him prattle on about whatever he felt. There was a good flow, sometimes he’d listen to you complain and other times he’d rest his cheek on the bartop and talk about a particularly bad flight drill. This was clearly different.

You hoped you didn’t look as exasperated as you felt, but you saw the sag in his shoulders at your expression, “Right. Sorry.”

You hated it when he did that–you knew it wasn’t on purpose but it took all the air out of the room when he was upset. But this time you were upset enough that you ignored the tug in your stomach at the heavy silence in the room.

“Look, I’m finished closing here, and I just really want to go home.”

The two of you maintained an uneasy silence as you shut off the lights and locked the doors behind you. You did your best not to meet his eyes, the overhead lights of the parking lot casting funny shadows on his face that made him look much younger than he actually was. Sometimes you thought you couldn’t breathe when he looked like that–like when you’d first met, attention always focused on you as you followed him around.

“I upset you. I’m sorry.” His lips were pursed in a flat line, but he was looking at you like he was trying to understand something.

Suddenly, the gravel beneath your feet was the most interesting thing in the world. That was, until he pulled you into his arms and squeezed you tight. There he was, enveloping you, burying you in the smell of something so distinctly Jake it made you dizzy with want and hope.

“It’s okay. Drive me home?”

You felt him nod against your head, and you silently let him go. His arms didn’t drop from your shoulders until a few moments later. He always did that and somehow it was the worst and best thing in your life.

It wasn’t until your shift the next day that what had transpired between you two hit you fully watching him act sheepish and lay it on thick for who he was evidently asking you about. She was beautiful–tan skin, a wide smile, and bright eyes. Her laugh sounded like music and she was dressed just right, like she was putting in effort but still casual enough for a bar like the Hard Deck.

You wanted to be sick. Scream, cry, whatever it took. Again, you weren’t entirely naive, but Jake had never made it so obvious to you. There had always been an ocean, an eight hour flight–something, anything, separating your realities. He’d always maintained that you were someone special to him but this felt like your world was shattering in front of your eyes.

It was embarrassing to admit, but at least the high school girlfriends and the one night stands were easy enough to watch pass by. You two moved around too much for any high school sweetheart nonsense, and by the way Jake made flight school sound, he was clearly more focused on being top of his class than anything else.

At the very least, the universe seemed to pity you if only for the moment. The Hard Deck was incredibly busy on a Friday night, and it only took a few patrons to block your line of sight to your worst nightmare. You worked on autopilot, letting muscle memory and the part of your brain that excelled at customer service take over. In your head, though, you were about to lose it.

All you could see was him leaning close to her, clearly whispering something hilarious into her ear, and her throwing her head back in laughter. The way his hand pressed into her waist made you sick.

It was only after closing, after everyone had been sent home, that you let yourself exhale. Sinking to the ground behind the bar, you buried your face in your hands, reeking of alcohol and all. It took everything in your not to completely break down–you still felt a few stray tears slip out. God, you were so stupid. So young, so naive.

In that moment it didn’t feel like you had ever moved past that wide eyed six year old meeting Jake for the first time. You’d had boyfriends, kissed a few strangers, but they’d all faded into a sort of background noise whenever compared to Jake. But in that moment, it felt like you were finally hearing the beginning, middle, and end of the conversation.

Beginning: You were Jake’s little shadow, always two steps behind, always tripping over yourself to keep up.

Middle: At some point, Jake grew up, and you didn’t.

End: Jake was not in love with you.

Penny took one look at your face when you walked in for your Saturday shift and immediately tried to send you home, “Even if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m not letting you work when you look about three seconds from bawling.”

It stung but she was right. You’d gone home after Friday’s shift and sobbed yourself to sleep. Jake had tried to call in the middle of the day Saturday and you sent him to voicemail. That of course prompted several more calls, all to voicemail, and at least six text messages, all of which you left unanswered. You half expected him to show up at your place and breakdown the door, but he didn’t show. Whether that was worse or better, you hadn’t decided yet.

“Penny, I’m–Look, I’m fine. I’d actually really prefer to work, I need the distraction.” You did your best at a smile, truly hoping she would buy it.

She narrowed her eyes at you, and gave you a once-over. By the grace of something bigger than the universe, she let you pass her into the back so you could clock in.

You knew Jake would be here, but you just kept your head down, hoping that would somehow protect you. It was actually Phoenix who found you first, tucked in the back taking a breather from running cups and bottles of liquor so you wouldn’t have to talk to customers.

She called your name softly and offered a small smile, “Hey, there you are.”

Phoenix and you had always gotten along. She was always sweet to you, always ribbing on the guys on your behalf, and defending you from any creep who decided to try and make a move. But she was also always dangerously observant, and you could tell that this time would be no different.

So despite everything going on around you two, she crouched down beside you, and began pulling everything out of you the way she always did, “I can tell something’s wrong. And I know it’s because of Hangman.”

That was all it took–slapping a hand over your mouth, you felt the sob rise in your throat. Clearly alarmed, she grabbed your other hand and tugged you out back, doing her best to avoid the eyeline of the other fighter pilots. Once out in the dark you sank into the sand and she rubbed your back soothingly as you let your emotions pour out.

You left no stone unturned, spilling every part of your heart out to her. How you had been in love with Jake probably since the beginning, how you’d waited on the sidelines for your moment, how you’d gone to college on the other side of the country hoping it would help, how the distance felt like an old battle wound. And through it all, she sat and listened thoughtfully.

“I think you should talk to him. Hangman-” She stopped herself, “Jake shouldn’t be making you feel like this, honey, no one should. But he won’t know unless you tell him.”

Despite it all, you were a romantic. When you had your first middle school crush (other than Jake) you’d marched right up to him and told him straight to his face. You went on your first date because you asked. It never made any sense when looking at every other part of you, but love was just something you couldn’t keep to yourself. Other than Jake.

“You should talk to him.”

“Phoenix?” There he was, calling your name, “Guys? What’s going on?”

He thundered down the back stairs of the Hard Deck, shaking sand everywhere, his silhouette blocking out the light from the bar. When he spotted you kneeling in the sand with Phoenix at your side, his shoulders sagged.

“Are you hurt? What happened?” He stopped short by Phoenix and they seemed to have some sort of wordless conversation because she stood and he plopped himself down in her stead.

You wouldn’t look at him. The world felt too big and too small at the same time, like the universe was crashing down on your head and the only thing you could manage to do was let it happen. Phoenix, that traitor, pressed her lips to your head, and walked back into the bar.

There it was, that part of you that just couldn’t hold back its feelings rearing its ugly head. Except this time it wouldn’t be a schoolyard rejection, it wouldn’t be an awkward pizza date, it would be the end of something bigger than yourself. For a moment, you let yourself bask in what you knew, deep down, was the end of what you had been, and an uncomfortable start to where you would go.

“Well, I clearly did something.” Jake wasn’t looking at you either–he was looking at the ocean and fiddling with a drink straw.

“You, uh, well,” You cleared your throat, “It’s not really your fault.”

“Bug, you have like a thousand missed calls from me and probably a thousand more missed texts.”

The tears were coming again–guilt, fear, sadness, all pouring out of you. You imagined him pacing around his apartment, wearing a hole in the carpet, trying to reach you. You imagined him calling Phoenix and asking for advice.

“I’m sorry.”

“Isn’t that my line?” He turned to look at you, clearly hoping cracking a joke would ease the tension–no such luck. “Do you want me to go?”

“No.” He stilled beside you.

“Bug, I don’t–I can’t fix what I did if you won’t tell me.” He was looking back at the ocean, the drink straw now some sort of complicated sailor’s knot.

Swallowing roughly, you figured it was now or never, truly. You closed your eyes, pretending that this moment would be different, that what you were about to say would bring an outcome different than it really would. Maybe in another universe there would be a Jake who saw you as someone other than a younger sibling, his little shadow.

“I love you, Jake. And there’s nothing that can fix that aside from time.”

He was quiet. There it was.

“I’m sorry,” He dropped the nickname, using your real name, “I didn’t realize. I must’ve really hurt you with all that poetry shit.”

You felt hollow, numb from every fingertip to your core, “Right.”

“You’re brave, Bug, braver than I’ll ever be. But, I can’t–I’m not that person for you, I’m sorry.” His voice sounded thick with emotion. “I can give you space, whatever you need. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, you just sat next to him, looking out at the ocean. The moon was clear in the sky, Fightertown always maintaining a balmy, clear sky. Here you were, having followed your first, and one true, love across the country. None of it felt real.

“Thank you, Jake. It’ll take time, but I’ll be fine.” You looked at him for the first time, truly, since things had started unraveling.

He looked so human, so tired, under the moonlight. It pained you, but for a moment you felt that flicker in your chest, the one you felt whenever he distanced himself, the one that reminded you how human he was. He hadn’t been that little boy for a long, long time. Your days of swingsets and bike rides and childhood inside jokes were past.

There was some part of you that knew you would be able to breathe again, if not now then in a week, a month, a year. He’d get deployed again, you’d settle back into your routine at the Hard Deck. You’d find your person, like he clearly had.

And it was time for you to accept that.

#jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic

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where-are-the-spooky-gays-2 · 8 months ago

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I talk about Virgil a lot so here are some random (some AU specific, some not, NOT ALL IN THE SAME AU) headcanons I have for Remus with mediocre elaboration:

— low empathy autistic. Has to be taught some empathy. I don't mean he's a danger, I just mean it doesn't initially occur to him that something might hurt someone emotionally. Also this usually comes with more of an explanation but I ✨don't remember the entire explanation✨

— he/they/it/various neos. I just think they'd vibe with it. I don't think he'd totally rock with she/her but y'all know headcanons are individual and I very much love seeing she/her and transfem Remus too <33

— tics. Sometimes they're worse than other times. Usually in a human au. Not with any specific disorder in mind when thought of

— this one is less mine and more my one friend's but Imma include it anyway: they wrote about him in one AU having a schizophrenia disorder. I don't remember the specifics but some of it was Remus seeing and hearing people/things that aren't there, which caused him and a lot of other people distress, and it furthered their "this is why people look at him odd but really he's not odd" agenda. He thought he was broken. Nope turns out his brain's just a bit different. Cue "ohhhhhh"

— y'know 80s/90s punk aesthetic? Yeah. Also thrifts like a bitch like they're out there all the time.

— walking calculator and can do a truly abhorrent level of math in his head. But cannot for the life of them do English. Like what the fuck is a semi colon. Ain't that the thing in your body?

— marine biologist or a mortician for his job I CANNOT decide.

— has horror movies as comfort movies <3 like "okay I'm sleeping now hmmm I'll put on the original Halloween" and then dozes off to it

— has facial hair other than the mustache. Removes the facial hair other than the mustache

— truly the most monstrous mullet you have ever seen except it's somehow hot. Like against all odds it's hot on it.

— writes down its worst intrusive thoughts in a notebook and when the notebook is full, burns it. That way it's an almost symbolic way of "FUCK these ideas"

— cusses just so goddamn much

— in some few AUs (I have to specify); smoker. Started as a teenage rebellion habit and now it's kicking their ass.

— tooth gap. I fucking love tooth gap.

— the grey streak isn't dye actually it's a birth mark. Roman has a similar one but he dyes it (neither brother is bothered by this)

— has fake blood splattered on several pairs of shoes just because it can and they think it looks cool

— reaaaaaally tries to pretend they don't care about Roman (highschool specific au) but also shows up for all of his theater shows and is always giving a standing ovation every time and has cried at a few performances (but definitely not no because they're too cool 😎.. *sobs*)

I feel like this is too many but ya get my vibes for him? :D I hope. I love them. They're so cool. It's just. AAAA

— 👑

Dude I fucking L O V E all of these S O fucking much oml!!! These really match Ree's vibes and them being a walking calculator is S O fucking underrated (Also “What the fuck is a semi colon ain't that the thing in your body?” is so R E A L XD) I really dig the notebook burning thing I think it would really help get it's thoughts out and he can find it therapeutic because F I R E <3 Also the highschool one has me cackling just

Remus: I could give less of a shit about Ro

Remus: *goes to all of his shows*

Remus: *sobbing and clapping* That's my fuckin' twin y'all!

True Punk behavior XD

#really love the design takes too <3 #creativitwins #remus sanders #roman sanders #ts remus #ts roman #sanders sides #thomas sanders #asks #answers #👑 anon #not a countdown

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herofics · 1 year ago

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could i ask for gojo or basically anyone from mha with a reader who's suddenly dealing with memories of cocsa? thanks

A/N: I picked Gojo, since I just felt like I wanted to write about him this time around. I know you just sent this, and I have a few older requests that I’m working on, but I wanted to write this right away for some reason. I don’t know any other meanings for COCSA other than child-on-child sexual abuse, so I’m assuming that’s what you meant. This request is a bit broad, but I just did some angst with comfort. I haven’t written stuff like this in a while, but there are some similar scenarios in my masterlist, which you can find in the pinned post. I feel like I’ve mostly dealt with my own COCSA trauma, but I do still find these kinds of things therapeutic to write. Not gonna lie though, this sort of triggered me and I cried a lot while writing this, but I’m all good now and it was therapeutic I guess.

Word count: almost 2k

Warnings: (Graphic?) mentions of COCSA/rape, mentions of blood, self hate and reader blames themself for what happened

Today was not a good day. You were almost glad Gojo wasn’t going to be home for at least a day, he didn’t need to deal with this too. He had enough on his shoulders already, he didn’t need to try to handle your shitty mood and flashbacks too.

It wasn’t like this everyday. The memories just resurfaced sometimes and it was like they knocked the wind out of you. It was like a punch in the stomach and it made you want to puke. Sometimes you could still feel hands on you and this was certainly one of those days. You scratched your arms and thighs but the feeling wouldn’t go away. It never did, but you still always hoped that maybe this time would be different.

You decided to take that shower you’d been avoiding the whole day, hoping that maybe the warm water would wash away some of the guilt and self hatred.

You were almost done taking off your clothes, when you happened to glance in the big mirror that covered the inside of your wardrobe door. You saw it again. It was like someone had turned back time and you were staring at your child self in the mirror. A little kid, crying, disheveled in just a t-shirt and bloody underwear, with bruises all around their body, and blood running down their inner thighs. You didn’t even notice you were crying too, before your legs gave out and you just sat on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Why me?” you whispered between your sobs.

Your whole life you’d been told it wasn’t your fault, but no one had yet managed to convince you that that was true. You knew it had been his fault too, that boy who did this to you all those years ago. You’d also convinced yourself that you were to blame. You were the one who went with him. You were the one who didn’t scream and shout, you were the one who didn’t try to run away until it was too late, and by then, he already had you in his grasp.

“Why did you follow him? Why didn’t you fight back?” you’d heard those questions countless times. It was horrifying how much parents tried to justify their kids’ actions. “Surely you did something to make him do this to you” was one of the phrases you would probably never forget.

You felt like you were drowning in self hatred and guilt. How could you have been so fucking stupid? “You were just a child” some reasonable part of your brain whispered, but that was swiftly drowned out by everything else. You were still just sitting on the floor, but now your crying was quiet. You were rocking yourself back and forth, as if in a trance. The words “It’s your fault” kept running circles in your brain.

Gojo knew he wasn’t supposed to be home yet. He knew you weren’t expecting him for at least another day, but he was just happy to get back to you. He pretty much skipped up the stairs to the front door, he missed you.

He opened the front door, the house was quiet, suspiciously so. The lights were on, so clearly you were home, but you wouldn’t answer when he called your name. Nothing was out of place, but something was wrong, he could feel it. He just didn’t know what it was. He couldn’t feel any hostility or strange cursed energy around, but something was undeniably wrong.

When he found you on the bedroom floor, sitting in front of the wardrobe, he could see your reflection in the mirror. You had this vacant look in your eyes, you hadn’t even noticed him come into the room.

Gojo knelt down next to you and put his hand on your shoulder. It brought you out of your trance immediately, but not in the way he expected.

“Please don’t-don’t touch me” you pleaded as you suddenly started backing away from him.

You hadn’t noticed Gojo come into the room, but the moment he touched you, you came back to reality. His touch felt disgusting, you felt like his hand would burn a hole through your t-shirt. God why was this happening? Why were you reacting like this to the person you loved so much?

“Okay, okay, I won’t” he assured. “What’s wrong doll?” he asked as he stuffed his blindfold into his pocket.

You had backed away from him until your back hit the end of the bed, so there was about a meter of distance between you. Gojo felt like there was a ravine between you, like he couldn’t reach you on the other side. All his powers and techniques wouldn’t help here. He hated feeling this powerless.

“Talk to me, please?” he almost sounded like he was begging.

You shook your head with this panicked look in your eyes. Gojo didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to comfort you if you wouldn’t let him hold you. It was like someone was tearing his heart into pieces. All he could do was sit there, and wait.

You wanted to tell him what was going on, you wanted to explain, but you didn’t know where to start. Would he think it was your fault? Would he blame you too? Before you could stop yourself, the words escaped your lips.

“I was raped”

Gojo just sat there, he felt like couldn’t process what you’d just told him. Raped? No, surely he heard wrong.

“What?” he had to ask, he had to make sure he’d really heard wrong, he really hoped he heard wrong.

“It-I was a kid and I was-I was raped…” you stammered.

He hadn’t heard wrong. Gojo had to really restrain himself to stop from embracing you. He wasn’t sure how else to comfort you. That was his love language, touch, but you really didn’t look like you could handle any of that right now.

You took a few deep, wavering breaths. You had stopped crying, at least mostly, but the self hatred and guilt were still very much there.

“I’ve been having some-some flashbacks and memories-and memories resurfacing today, and as you can-as you can see, it’s not a good day for me-me” you tried explaining.

“Do you need me to do something? I’ll do anything” Gojo stated very seriously.

“Can you just-Can you just sit there until this passes?” you asked apologetically. “I don’t- I don’t want to be touched right now, even the thought makes me want to vomit”

You didn’t want to make Gojo feel like this was about him, it wasn’t him touching you that made you feel nauseous, anyone would have gotten the same reaction.

“And it’s not about you, I just don’t want anyone to touch me right now” you added.

Gojo sighed in relief, for a moment he was scared he had done something wrong.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked carefully.

You were starting to feel more stable, not good exactly, but better than before. Gojo’s presence helped, he made you feel safe and like no one could hurt you again. It was also a bittersweet feeling, you just wished someone like him had been around back then. Someone to stop anything bad from ever happening to you.

“I-I don’t really know how to talk about it. People don’t want to hear about stuff like that, not really, even if they want to help” you shrugged.

“I want to help, I really do”

“I don’t think you need to hear all the nauseating details of it. I know you want to help, but I’ve only got myself to blame really. I was so damn stupid” you shook your head with a disappointed sigh.

Gojo had to stop himself from reaching his hand towards yours, instead he just balled his hand into a fist. You didn’t want to be touched, he needed to respect that. Hearing you say that made him so incredibly frustrated. How could you blame yourself for something so horrific someone else had done to you?

“You weren’t stupid, you were a child and that should’ve never happened” Gojo said slowly.

“That’s no excuse though, I should’ve known better. I should’ve know the things he did were wrong, before it was too late”

“I don’t know how old you were when this happened, but would you expect a kid that age to know what you were “supposed to know”?” Gojo asked.

“No, but-” you started but he cut you off.

“So why would you expect it from yourself at that age? You shouldn’t need to know better as a kid, other people should know not to do shitty things” Gojo tried to reason with you.

That shut you up quite effectively. You would never expect it from anyone else, so why would you expect something like that from yourself. You didn’t really have a counter argument, and it had undeniably shaken your attitude of self blame and hatred just a little.

“Hah, you can’t argue with that, can you” Gojo smirked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“You’re so proud of yourself for coming up with that” you rolled your eyes, but your lips curved into a slight smile.

“If it made at least a dent in all that self hatred you’re carrying around, then yes” Gojo nodded.

“It’s not like I actively hate myself, it’s just days like these… mostly” your voice faded.

“Then I want to make sure you’ll never have a day like this again” Gojo said with a very serious tone. He looked so determined.

“That’s sweet Satoru, but I can’t promise that, and neither can you” you smiled sadly.

“Well we can at least aim for less days like this, right?” he asked.

“I think that’s a good start yeah” you nodded.

You were still sitting on the floor against the end of the bed, but you seemed much more relaxed and calm than when he came into the room. Gojo was happy you’d shared more of yourself with him, but he obviously wasn’t happy about what you’d told him. If Gojo were to ever get his hands on the guy who’d hurt you, he wasn’t sure what he might end up doing.

“I think you need some food and a lot of rest. I can take care of the first one and cook you something, but after that, you're going to bed” Gojo announced.

“I’m not even gonna argue with you about that, because you’re right”

“I’m always right” he smirked.

“Oh yeah, definitely” you rolled your eyes with a playful chuckle.

“Let’s go, I’ll cook for you” Gojo said as he stood up, and offered his hand to you to help you up.

You looked at his hand for a moment, before looking up at him. It made you feel guilty that you didn’t want to touch him right now. You loved him so much, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to take his hand right now.

“Sorry I-I can’t, not yet” you apologized and got up on your own.

Gojo realized what you meant and pulled his hand back. He couldn’t help but feel a bit bad, he didn’t want to seem like he was pressuring you, even if he desperately wanted to hold you.

“No worries, you don’t need to apologize for that” he shook his head.

“I love you, Satoru” you smiled with some residual sadness still in your eyes.

“I love you too, (Name)” he smiled softly. “Now then, what would you like to eat?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jjk comfort #jujutsu kaisen comfort #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #tw rape #cocsa tw #blood tw

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spellcasterlight · 7 months ago

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what do you do when you feel really sad?

Hi there Loveable Lion Anon! 🦁

First of all, I get the feeling you maybe sent this ask because you're feeling sad yourself? If so, I'm so sorry to hear that 😔

For your question, what do I do when I'm sad? Gonna put this under the cut so people can scroll by!

Warnings: Crying. Brief Mentions of Dying.

Firstly, Anon, this is just what I do and probably won't work for others. Sadness is hard to deal with and so personal. One person's coping methods are not a script for someone else. I can only reply with what I do!

Now usually I will be the first to admit I'm quite a cheery person so when I am sad it usually tends to hit me like a train.

I deffo have my cry. I've never been a yeller or a social media ranter or anything like that, but I do cry. I don't know if it's the air quotes best thing to do, and I would never tell anyone to do this, but I do. I have a sit down somewhere private (usually my bedroom) and just have a little therapeutic cry to compact and release the overwhelming feelings that come with something seriously bad happening.

But after that, when I'm on the comedown of releasing all that sad energy, I always think, "Is this a heart-stopping moment?" and the answer is always no.

I won't go into details. They aren't pleasant, and no one wants to read them. Still, basically, just over ten years ago, I had a "this is it, this is how I die" moment and not in a sarcastic going to die of embarrassment or someone exaggerating a hangover, but what I thought was the real deal.

So, whenever my logical thinking starts to kick back in after that first burst of crying, I travel back to that point, to my very lowest, to the point where I thought my mother was going to come in and find me dead, propped up in bed by pillows like a lifeless doll because my body had simply given up, nothing but a shell and, part of me knows it's a horrible thing to say, but, it puts whatever made me sad into perspective.

Even when my tears are still flowing, I can accept the realization that I'm okay, I'm still alive, and I will still be alive after it. I can handle whatever felt so overwhelming ten minutes ago.

(That might all sound a bit dramatic to someone just reading it, but yeah, that's what happens.)

The world isn't ending, so what do I do now?

I always want to do something about it. For example, a few months ago, I panicked that I was wasting my life, that I was achieving nothing, and that there was so much I wanted to do, but I was a complete failure because I wasn't doing any of it.

I cried, had my moment of clarity then googled around for some ideas on how to tackle. I now make a monthly calendar of all the stuff I want to dabble in (writing, digital drawing, hand drawing, reading, more exercise, my course etc) and I have it so every evening I will do one of those things. Sure, I won't be the next Picasso or Einstein or anything, but I'm doing something. Being both productive and getting a little joy in creating at the same time.

I also try to put a little goodness back into the world even if I'm really not feeling very happy at that moment.

I'll send a message into the girlie chat telling them how wonderful they all are. I'll tell my friends who are parents how adorable their children are. I'll leave a big tip the next time I go out to eat or if I see a cool musician playing on the street. I'll send some Tumblr asks just telling people they're awesome. I'll speed up my walking so I can hold a door open for someone struggling with a pram or a walker. Buy my parents some flowers or my boyfriend some ice cream. That kind of thing.

Because the only thing that would make me feel worse is if my crappy mood brought down someone else. Seeing other people happy helps make me feel better as well, you know?

It's also good to plan something, even a little something, to look forward to. A holiday, a meetup with friends, a day at the beach, an afternoon with nothing to do but sit in a coffee shop, even a lie-in—whatever makes you make a note in your calendar and think, "Can't wait!"

I honestly don't know if this is helpful or not 😂 Maybe some others would like to be brave and share what they do as well?

If I'm right, and you did send this because you're feeling sad, I hope things turn around, and you feel better soon!

Sending all the good vibes your way! ✨

#I hope things pick up soon for you Anon! ❤️

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mermaidsirennikita · 11 months ago

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Ok, so maybe this question is too broad. But what are your hands down favorite sex scenes in contemporaries? Just the scenes you return to again and again?

Sex scene questions are NEVER too broad. The depiction of sex in media is one of my favorite things to talk about, for srs or for "YOU GOTTA SEE/READ THIS" purposes.

Soooo lol I left a few Sierra Simone books off the "angstiest contemporaries" list because while they are not paranormal or whatever, sometimes her New Camelot-verse books feel too... intense? But whatever they're contemporary and these books have some of my favorite sex scenes ever so YA GETTING THEM.

(Among, as it turns out, many other scenes from many other books.)

New Camelot:

American Queen--Embry deflowering Greer which has a) surprise virgin b) possessive dark Embry content, which is some of my FAVORITE content in that series; the whole "talking to my groom on the phone while riding the best man's face and listening to him jack off and we're actually all kinda sad about it" scene--Ash giving Embry to Greer as a wedding present is SOOOO FUCKED but SOOOOO GOOD; the wedding night scene with the first threesome hell fucking yeah

American Prince--Ash and Embry's first time in the flashback with all the blood and the "you look beautiful in the moonlight"-ing; Embry and Greer's hardcore CNC scene where it begins as like, therapeutic playacting and evolves into it being THEM and one of the central conflicts of the series (Embry and Greer love Ash but are both so devoted to Ash that they also, especially Embry, resent his presence because they need their own space together) and then at the end he sees her in the full light and like gasps in horror because she's covered in bite marks and bruises and she's like :D about it because Greer is a freak; the "blindfold you with a Mt. Rushmore tie and blow you to express my eterrrrnal gratitude scene; the "let's make Greer feel better" kinda fucked up green apple scent threesome; the "Ash is very sads because his first wife died so he shows up in the rain and fucks the shit out of Embry to cope" flashback; Greer thinking that Embry Cheated On The Polycule and being like "WELCOME HOME CHEATER" and asking him if Abilene's pussy is as sweet as hers before he's like "THERE'S NOBODY SWEETER" and drops to his knees to eat her out while she's standing.

He's my faaavorite.

American King: OBVIOUSLY, the "it's a very sad occasion and The Polycule Measure Is Being Threatened So We're Gonna Have A Threesome For Three Chapters" scene, AMAZING, shoutout for Embry being balls deep in Greer and before Ash can put it in being all "I THINK WE SHOULD DISCUSS OUR RELATIONSHIP AND ITS BOUNDARIES" and Ash being like "are you fucking kidding me" before just forging ahead, one of the funniest things I've Ever read; the Greer/Embry reunion sex where he comes inside her super quick and is like "WHOOPS SORRY" and eats her out immediately after; the "Embry Lost So He Gets Mild CBT" scenes which fr is one of the filthiest things I've EVER READ; the "Ash Lost So He Gets Face Fucked" scene, largely because of "the might Maxen Colchester has a gag reflex" ugh kill me; the "Embry fucks Ash with a dildo in the sex club" flashback; Ash and Embry's Last First, CRYING TEARS.

Writing all that out (and look dude, when I say I reread those scenes a lot, I AM SERIOUS) I realize there isn't a single solo Ash/Greer scene, and it's not that I don't love them, but they have the least FRAUGHT sex scenes so it's less memorable. Like, my favorite Ash/Greer sex scene is in American Queen after he finds out Embry had sex with her first and he's super jealous of both of them (and she doesn't... fully realize that yet) and fucks her being like "AND DID HE DO THIS??? AND THIS?????". It's great love that content.

Salt in the Wound: the scene where Mark takes Isolde's virginity with fingers on and is like "LOOK AT YOU DOING SO GOOD" while she cries and fully realizes that she is a true masochist, 'twas very hot

Salt Kiss: obviously, the entire "deflowering of Tristan" saga lmao, but ESPECIALLY when Mark is like "Tristan I've fucked you like twice in the last hour I'm not gonna fuck you again" and Tristan goes ":(" only for that sentence to end with ".... so instead you get to eat my ass while I sit on your face, LUCKY YOOOOOOU". I also really love the scene in the mini short "Beg Me" where Mark makes Tristan fuck a pocket pussy (while being all "IF I HAD A WIFE I WOULD LOVE TO WATCH YOU FUCK HER AND IT WOULD BE AMAZING AND GREAT", a fact??? Tristan??? Super????? Misses out on???? When it turns out Mark DOES have a future wife????) before he fucks Tristan and continues to talk about how great it would be if there was a wife here lmao; I also reeeeally love the scene where Tristan and Isolde fuck in that yacht chapel thing. SO. GOOD. SUCH. ANGST.

Obviously, I love many scenes from her Bell Brothers series; the altarfucking scene in Priest; the "holy oil as anal lube" scene, also in Priest; the "let's have anal sex for the first time in a convent" scene in Sinner; the "let's pretend I'm a naughty monk and you're tempting me" outdoor blow job in Saint. All great content. Love it. Amazing.

ANYWAY. NON-SIERRA. Sierra is just the queen of sex scenes, I'm sorry.

I looove the scene in Give Me More by Sara Cate where Hunter, Drake, and Isabel finally have sex after Hunter's admitted that he loves Drake in a romantic manner. It's super hot and also weirdly sweet.

Kristen Callihan's Game On series is REAL GOOD in terms of sex scenes. There's a great scene in The Friend Zone where the heroine is like, taking care of the hero because he's typically been a real caregiver in his family. First of all, she greets him wearing a fake jersey that says "nothing's getting past my tight end". He's a tight end, and I personally think that's love. And then she fingers his ass during to climax and he's super grateful about it because nobody has ever done that before and he felt very loved lmao.

Act Your Age by Eve Dangerfield has SEVERAL very good scenes where they're roleplaying stepfather/stepdaughter stuff, but I think the scene that really sticks out to me remains the first scene where they're in the dark and she doesn't know it's him (and he doesn't know that she doesn't know) and she's going down on him and starts calling him "Daddy" and he like. FREEZES lol.

Reckless by Stella Rhys has an amazing scene where the hero and heroine are boss/employee but also best friends, and he's been helping her get through her realization that her fiance cheated, which has caused a lot of sexual tension... And then in his OFFICE one day, he's just like "use me" and BOOM FRIENDSHIP CORRUPTED. There's also a later scene where he has a very bad work call and she like, undoes her top and is all "you may use my tits to help yourself recover from the manpain you're experiencing right now". Like they're his pacifier. I was... about it.

Minx by Sophie Lark has a scene I read like thrice where the heroine is blowing the hero and then begins fingering him and he's like "nooooow I get why women like to be penetrated". There's also a scene I love where she's like "oh no, I'm on my period" and he goes "DON'T CARE". He might even go down on her.

The All the King's Men Duology by Kennedy Ryan--the scene where he gets her off by sticking his head under her sweatshirt and going to town on her nipples while her coworkers are on the other side of the wall; I mean, I hate to continue... to show my hand.... with this lol, but also the scene where she's blowing him and gives him the ol' bonus pleasure (a finger in his ass)

Mercy by Sara Cate--the pegging scene. That is all.

Possession by Adriana Anders has an amazing scene where the hero kidnaps the heroine (with her consent beforehand) and spit roasts her with his ol' buddy ol' pal. There's also a deleted short about them where he brings in like... three other buddies.... and they all go at her at the same time. AMAZING.

Managed by Kristen Callhan--the whole scene where after they have this really passionate sex he pushes his cum back in her

Lead by Kylie Scott--the scene where they're all "it'll be fine if we just get it out of our systems!!!" and he fucks her on a table while she's wearing like, a FUCKIN BOOT FOR HER BROKEN FOOT LMAO (she broke her foot trying to kick down a door dramatically); and the scene where they have emotional missionary sex and kiss for the first time

Deep by Kylie Scott--the hero finds out the heroine, pregnant with their one night stand baby, has been masturbating a lot and is all "I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR TAKING CARE OF YOUR NEEDS FROM NOW ON" and fingers her to orgasm lol

Preferential Treatment by Heather Guerre--the scene where they play chess while he's inside her and she's in his lap facing away from him, and if he comes he loses or something lol

Heated Rivalry and The Long Game by Rachel Reid--the scene where Ilya's won player of the year or something so after he drinks vodka while watching Shane finger himself; the "I want to look at you during" sex scene where Ilya uses endearments during and Shane is like "OH NOOOOO HE'S LIKE FALLING IN LOVE WITH ME??? ABORT!!!"; the scene after they actually say I love you. SUCH EMOTIONAL SEX SCENES. Oh wait also the scene where Shane is on the phone with his BFF and Ilya is like "I'm just gonna blow you during carry on".

And in TLG, the "I'm fucking a king in his throne room" scene because sometimes you've just got to fuck the confidence back into someone.

#romance novel blogging #romance novels #book recs #like 50 deranged sex scene recs

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panda-noosh · 1 year ago

Text

my battle with creative joy

hi everyone!

so here i am actually making a blog post. not a fic (sorry...) but an actual, real life blog post where i will just ramble and probably make no sense. i hope you guys don’t mind. i would also like to think you’re used to it by now.

i’ve had a lot on my mind recently when it comes to my creative process, and my creative life in general. from the age i could pick up a pen, i have used writing as an escape, and it has always been a fun thing for me to do (obviously). i remember spending the entire night working on a fic, or having pieces that were over 200k long because i just got in these moments where i couldn’t stop myself from saying more, writing more, creating more. it was an addiction. a good one, but an addiction nonetheless.

the thing that has been playing on my mind, however, is how sad i am that i’ve lost that side of myself.

there are many reasons for this that i cannot beat myself up over; work, life, being an adult. i now have a fiance, and a dog, and a house i have to take care of, because it is my own. i now have a full time job in health care, where the hours are endless and the stress is endless, and it really leaves no room whatsoever to process anything but what you have just seen, or endured, or had to deal with. these are all things out of my control, because as hard as it is to come to terms with it, life is more than just. . . doing what you want.

trust me, i cried over this too. many times.

i get asks on the daily about whether i’m still active, or if i plan on writing anymore (insert fandom here) fics, and i always, always say yes, because i think speaking it into existence will potentially benefit me in the long run. saying no just feels like i’m giving in, and i don’t want to do that, because i would genuinely love to revive this blog, run it the way i used to, interact with you guys in the way i used to. but it’s difficult. it’s impossible some days, because life doesn’t accommodate. it just. . . throws you tasks that you have to deal with whilst keeping yourself sane at the same time.

creative joy is something i’ve been trying to find again for a while now, and it definitely is a work in progress. i still love writing - i know that. but in the same breath, i’m at that age now where i want to make writing my full time job, and that means the dynamic between myself and my creative joy has changed drastically. i no longer sit at my computer with a burst of inspiration and ideas flooding to my head. i sit at my computer now because i have a future in mind that i need to reach. that means word count goals, and schedules, and self doubt. that means getting frustrated with my own capabilities. that means writing for thirty minutes before getting worn down - such a change from the teenager who could sit at her laptop all night without even batting an eye.

it’s sad to think about sometimes, and sometimes i do beat myself up over it. that’s why i’m trying to find that joy again. i’m not being difficult on myself any more - if i want to ditch a project and write something else, that’s what i’ll do. if i want to flesh out a character that has no story to fit into, i’ll do that. if work has exhausted me, i’m going to go to bed without stressing about how behind i’ll be on this imaginary deadline for a novel i’ve set in my head. i’m going to chill out.

i’ve actually really started focusing on self care in this way for a few months now, and it has left me feeling very enlightened, i won’t lie. you don’t realise how harsh you are to yourself until you actually start putting the measures in place to be kind to your mind and body. just putting yourself first, really, and knowing that you should always be your own first priority - for your sake, and everybody else’s.

i don’t know. i just had a lot on my mind in regards to this topic, and i wanted to share it somewhere. i’ll probably do more of these, even if nobody cares to read them lol. they’re just therapeutic to me, so if you’ve read this far, thank you. i’d love to hear your thoughts on this whole thing, and maybe we can help each other out. make a little self-improvement, self-care thing here at case de aticus.

love you all!

#writeblr #self care #self development #blog #blog post #random thoughts

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jolalibrary · 1 year ago

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hi jo! i hope you’re having a great day <3 for the writer asks: 🍛🍥🍡 xx

awww babe!! thank you so much! i hope you're having a good one too!!!!

🍛 Have any comments, tags or reactions to one of your fics ever made you laugh or cry or both?

i had an absolutely lovely reaction from someone on LNT (tbf i had some really lovely ones throughout that series) about how much they loved reading the series, that their job was stressful and it was a nice escape for them. and omg, i literally cried, cause that's all I've ever ever wanted with my writing when i share it 🩷

🍥 What's your favorite fic you've written?

omggggg this is so hard. okay, i have LOADS, because (is this big headed?) but i do love quite a few of my fics. BUT, i'm going to go with arepas, because without me writing it we wouldn't have ever had LNT. but also it was the most "me" fic i'd written in a super long time, and it makes me so happy even now when i read it.

🍡 Which of your fics was the most emotionally difficult to write?

not to get superrrrr deep, but a broken sight (a javi fic) because i wrote it because the night before my garden was broken into and i was so terrified, i couldn't sleep, i hadn't slept, and it was so therapeutic to write all my feelings without having to tell someone what had happened. but it was also so difficult to edit because i just wanted to throw it up. it's also one I've not re-read since, because i'm still struggling with feeling safe because of what happened.

sunday funday asks

#sunday funday ✨#janaispunk #asked and answered #kind souls

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littlemourningstar · 2 years ago

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15 Questions / 15 People

I was tagged by @fragileizy and @plotbunnypettingzoo !!! Thank you both so much this was a lot of fun!!

1. Are you named after anyone?

In a way!

My mom was a bank teller when she was pregnant with me and had an older man come in who was a regular. He said he’d see my mom in a couple weeks but she said she’d be on maternity leave. He asked what she was having and she told him a girl. He said he had a few granddaughters and asked what my name was. My mom was torn between Ashleigh (yes spelled like that) and Laurynn (yes also spelled like that). He said they were beautiful names and mentioned his granddaughters names. One of them was mine and my mom loved it so much she added it to the collection.

When I was born, my mom called my brother and asked him what my name should be. He picked my name!

2. What was the last time you cried?

Last night lol. Being sick has sucked so bad but I’m getting better now!! Hooray!!

3. Do you have kids?

Nope, I can’t have kids. I’m very much content being an aunt to four. I do however refer to my pup as my son so in a way I do.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not as much as I used too! I don’t really talk much to other people anymore so it’s not something I notice myself doing much these days.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Not sure! Probably their build? Tall, short, wide hips, big boobs, nice legs, what was the question again?

6. What’s your eye color?

Blue! Like a greyish blue with a lil bit of green.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

A healthy mix of both! I find myself getting way too emotional with regular movies so I prefer a balance of both to keep my sanity. But usually only if the scary movie is well done. I’m more interested in the story and how it’s told than the genre.

8. Any special talents?

Not particularly lol. I’d say probably singing or putting puzzles together quickly.

9. Where were you born?

Luckily! A hospital. I was almost born in my parents red minivan.

10. What are your hobbies?

Doing puzzles, writing, drawing, dancing, singing, daydreaming.

11. Do you have a pet?

I do!! I have a 9 year old mutt named Cody whom I love with all my heart. He’s got anxiety like me and is super friendly but a little skittish around kids. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s been with me through most of the bad things in my life up to this point but he’s still a little puppy at heart and everyone he meets loves him.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

As a kid I did tennis a little recreationally, played on my local soccer league team for a couple years, then joined cheer for a few years and loved it. Unfortunately, freshman year I had to quit for personal and health related reasons.

13. How tall are you?

4 foot 11 inches!! I was one of the shortest people at my school but I never let that stop me from being a big problem.

14. Favorite subject in school?

Art! Cheesy as it is. But other than that I’d have to say maybe math? I loved algebra honestly.

15. Dream job?

Furniture assembler. I love putting together pieces of furniture. It’s so therapeutic for me. But other than that probably a comedian! People always say I’m funny and I have some pretty interesting stories I could tell.

I tag: @writerriderdirtythirties @talkstoself @miraculouslymundane @jumpingbeanz @theultracharmingladynoire @biochemandmonsters @piratesandpizza & anyone else who wants to do this fun little game! 💕💕

#tag game

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suugrbunz · 9 months ago

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Hey! 💝anon here.. That was me giving tips earlier.. Been back on Tumblr for just a couple days, clearing out my old account, saying hellos to old online friends. Thank you, so much, for how you inspired my story last year. You motivated me - so much!

The story finished. I adidn’t do a huge amount with Maureen & Lyam’s relationship; they had a few more moments together, bonding & learning to trust & appreciate each other. Their final moment in the story was their first kiss! (I can send a snippet if you’d like?)

I turned 19 last year (so, a bit younger than you I suppose :)) It’s been good, getting offline. It’s given me more time to do other things; learn gardening from an elderly relative, do some singing (on my own lol), spend time with my family, learn about things that interest me.

Anyway. Hope you’re doing okay and taking care of yourself, and you can find ways to make life easier, whatever those ways are.

I understand about the streaming service thing. My family usually just watch cheap second hand DVDs (charity shop sells 20 DVDs for £1!), and occasionally use the cheaper version of Netflix (with ads). I use Internet Archive (archive.org) for books and films (manly older, lesser known films), it’s free, so that’s a good option.

And totally, get away from Instagram & TikTok! If you think you’d be happier without it, drop it! People online can be really nasty. I quit looking at Reddit, & basically all comments, last year after I suffered a deep depression (due to peoples’ extremely nasty comments toward a part of lgbt that I identify with) Doing a lot better now.

IDK, and it’s not my business, but hope something works for you. The best people, the ones worth knowing, are those who appreciate character and kindness over consumerist beauty ideals (I say consumerist cause it’s in my belief that we’re pretty well brainwashed to think “perfect looking” people look good; a way of getting people to keep buying makeup they don’t need and the latest fashions)

Ahh, hope this isn’t too much, I write fast and am only basing this all off a couple posts I saw you made, so I’m real sorry if it’s too much! I’ve got a ton of spare time today so I’m just rambling.

I can’t be coming back to online socialising like I used to, as it took up so much of my limited spare time last year, so this is a rarity, just to say hello. Hugs 🫂

💝anon

i literally cried seeing it was you— i was noshing on a gyro, crying alone in the kitchen. I have hereditary depression, so it won't get better. It'll always be there. It's just worse than normal lately. Hoping it'll calm down, I wrote and edited some of my book today.

This is like writing a lovely old pen pal, ah, it's nearly therapeutic. I think of you often. I'm nearing tears as i write this because something about talking to you has felt so homeward bound. I love archive, that's how I watched the clash movie, Rude Boy! I have some unread books I wish to finish, one is kafka and the other is khalil gibran. You should see the khalil gibran book, it has such an ornate cover.

I adopted a cat since we've last spoken, she was beside my neighbours house during a storm. I had been taking out my dog and heard her meowing. When i approached her, she immediately came to me. Oh, her name is Laila, she's a tortoise shell.

I definitely have to agree, we are brainwashed constantly to see aging as a sign of lost beauty. Similarly, we are taught that our bodies are never enough because whatever the trend is— it isn't for a girl with an hourglass body. I told my mother the other night, through lots of tears i have never truly loved myself. I mean, around puberty is when confidence develops, at least in my opinion. I got bullied for my body developing into what it now is. So, you can imagine what eating disorder shit i go through because of it. Only fueled by my mother also having a fucked up perception of body-image as well. I am trying my best to understand that my value is an independent variable from the weight on a scale.

Please send me all the writing you wish to, I remember loving your writing. I started publishing my book, but it's completely different. I had to change everything; it was going nowhere. I couldn't get a plot to stitch together. I was nearly at the point of deleting it. Then, out of the blue, I woke up after some dream and was like— "what if I used tamino as a faceclaim? What if x, y, z?". Soooo, i ended up experimenting with it and i actually followed through on replacing nick (i want to implement him in the new book tbh, i miss him). Ah, i hope you find the time to read the chapters I have published... that is if you want to read them, truly there is no pressure there. Again though; please send me your work.

#💝 anon #౨ৎ guys my favourite anon is back 🥹

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toloveandbelovedtoo · 2 years ago

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Day 5: connection

Wow... Today was... Wow. Not what I was expecting. Like at all. I was having some trouble with myself and thoughts late last night and feeling so uncomfortable in this exploration, but knowing it was because I was outside my comfort zone and this is all just so new feeling. As I was showering, I thought to myself, I should go out to this yoga studio I like that offers their classes for free to trans people. My therapist had mentioned taking in person classes and I finally remembered to look up the classes.

I found one for today called Yoga Nidra, or sleeping yoga and I thought, hell yeah, I like the idea of getting to lay on my back with a blanket and listen to a meditation and singing bowls. I went in a bit nervous cause it's a new location with unknown people, but I wanted to stop being such a hermit and get out of my house more. I had laid down on the mat, thrown the blanket over me, and placed this bean bag thing over my eyes. I laid with a bolster under my knees and palms up as I listened to the teach guide the class through relaxing the body piece by piece.

She had guided us to imagine being in different locations, I can't remember the first location, but she had us imagining being at the edge of a pond facing a sunset. It was in that time I felt like I had sunken into my body and a flood of emotion overtook my body. It felt like a flood of cold, my body was shaking, and I felt so anxious. She told us then to imagine the moon and I tried to think about the moon and the craters and shadows, but my thoughts kept going back to fear, to this feeling of not wanting to dying, to being so scared because I was feeling so much.

I repeated to myself that I was Taylor. I was laying in a building in my city that is in my state and that I was going to be okay. I opened my eyes but they were still covered by the eye mask, but the slivers of light they peaked through grounded me. The practice ended with us rolling onto our sides then sitting up and as I was folding my blanket, I saw a giant palmetto bug making a bee line to me a few inches from my mat. My body was loose and my limbs weren't cooperating with me, but the teacher caught it in a jar and took it out. I think about that bug, one of the ones that creep me out and maybe it was there for a reason.

I was feeling so anxious and shaky after the session and I didn't feel like I could go home just yet. The yoga teacher had explained beforehand that she was also a therapist and she would spend some time after class in the lobby if anyone wanted to talk. I sat down in a chair and wait for the other student to leave and when she did, I asked the teacher if she would sit with me because I wasn't okay. I felt like crying, I did cry, and she stayed with me while I let that emotion out. We did a breathing exercise and I explained to her what I felt and how I felt it was related to this exploration that I was doing, the release of all that I was holding.

I had this beautiful moment with a stranger that I had asked for help, I gave myself that space to allow a stranger see me be scared and vulnerable and it was an act of love for myself to ask for something I need as well as an act of love to receive that care from someone I didn't know. She explained to me the therapeutic uses of yoga nedra and how it releases emotions that we have been carrying and I told her about the practice I felt was similar that my therapist I do to explore what emotions feel like when I give them the space and honor their presence.

I went home after getting a milkshake from Cook-out and tried to lay down to allow those feeling space, but I ended up in the bathroom listening to Encanto's soundtrack while I journaled what I was feeling. The bathroom is a safe space for me, a place where I could go to cry and be emotional without anyone hearing me. I would turn on the shower and cry and I don't really know if the shower and fan drowned out my cries, but it helped. And half way through writing, it just all felt like I understood what I was trying to do by undertaking this project.

That I am worthy not despite my flaws and broken bits, but because they are apart of my whole being. I am worthy of love and being loved and giving love because I'm Taylor, I don't have to be anything else, I don't have to make myself smaller, or quieter, or easier to handle, I am loved for my true being. And sure, I think those that tried to minimize me and make me feel smaller loved me, but not in a way that was healthy, sustainable, and was twinged with toxic believes and actions. I saw myself the way my friends I have now saw me and that I didn't have to have a skill or a service to offer them, I was just loved for being me.

I feel like a butterfly crawling out of my cocoon after being caterpillar goop and I'm learning to look and love my new wings, to let them open and flourish them, to feel the wind around them as I try to take off. I was having a lot of emotions recently after having a really tough 2022, after feeling burned out from work, after doing some heavy trauma healing work the last few months, but especially the last couple of weeks. There was a lot I needed to unleash and that yoga practice helped. I feel scared, but I feel hopeful.

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weebliss · 2 years ago

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Getting By

If you would look at me now, you would think I'm in the best position to write but no. I feel sad. I haven't cried. I'm not in the mood for anything today. I feel heavy. I hate people but kind of want to talk to some but not right now. Not right now.

These past few days, I was just dragging myself to finish my tasks. Just pushing myself to talk to people. Just doing my normal routine with a heavy heart. Just trying to live. but I'm sad. I'm sad. I'm sad.

So this is how it feels...

To say what you mean but some people take it as if you are trying to sound wise, so some feel the need to outsmart you with their deep comments and you are just staring at your screen feeling dumb for exposing yourself like that. Yeah, I agree. Facebook is toxic.

To really want to talk with your friends but you do not know where to start or how to express your ideas to them in such a way that you can protect them from the sadness you feel and to not sound like you are really that sad even if you are because you do not want them to get worried, so you just ask them to eat lunch together with you because you haven't done that for a month now because of work but still you are just happy because they are there to eat street foods with you because you are craving for it and to sip your coffee because you discovered this new flavor and just want to let them know it tastes good, and so they do it.

To talk to somebody who is an expert in Psychology and kind of want to talk to him even more but you just want him to be free from your woes because you know him personally. (He is kind enough to approach me first and to ask me what was wrong. He told me smart things I'm really craving to hear but stopped myself because it's getting late. Also, appreciated it that he cracked jokes from time to time and told me he just wanted to make me smile but really I was irritated because the jokes kept in the way with his smart conversation.)

To go out in the field today because staying at home will make you sadder and sharing the good news to others is the right thing to do only that you do not feel like smiling to strangers. You couldn't be more thankful for the locked gates, closed doors, and angry shouts from them telling you to go away. With all sincerity, I'm really happy with the rejections I received today.

To write my feelings and thoughts here because many say writing is therapeutic and even if you doubt it yourself that it will work this time you just did and it makes you happy because look at what you have written, you are sad but grateful...still grateful.

My mom is angry with me right now because I overcooked the rice again but I don't care because I know she understands and that I'm finishing this post with a sigh of relief because somehow the burden is off my shoulders as of the moment and I'm hopeful that there are still many things to be thankful for.

#13

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maldito-arbol · 3 years ago

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It’s time for Mal to Talk in the tags again because I’m too tired to do homework or write so I’m gonna use my energy for this

#ranting online is kinda therapeutic since I can’t get therapy? ok so I just wanted to mention this and ramble #i about cried talking to my himbo friend over the phone the other day because he told me. the day I read that chapter (well. 1/4 of it)#to my discord server in the vc he came in and checked on me a few times and he said he hasn’t seen me look that happy in so long and it #hurts because I had to end that event early because I couldn’t breathe but I had so much fun talking to ppl and doing the reading bc I get #✨dramatic✨ and shit and yknow overall it was just such a great experience except for the not breathing part (the gods are punishing me for #the Bye Bye Air Collar from WJH) and anyway it just reminded me all over again how Unhappy I am constantly. i have spent my entire life #being treated like complete dirt by family and friends and bosses and coworkers and classmates and everyone under the sun so the second i #feel appreciated by Anyone I break into tears it’s So Bad. so like I enjoy going to work because even tho it’s so tiring and it’s so hard #dealing with customers sometimes I love it anyway because like. i feel appreciated there. by my boss and a handful of coworkers at least.#and that’s so much better than being in this house and feeling like I’m the devil’s spawn all over again sent to ruin everybody’s life by #merely existing. so work is a double-edged sword because it’s another source of Pain but it’s ALSO an escape which is Totally Healthy but #then there’s my fanfics. writing what I wanna write and sharing it with you guys and tormenting you and my blorbos is a kind of happiness I #will never find anywhere else. reading that to the server was one of those moments of pure euphoria even if I was plagued by Stage Fright #at the same time. so yeah. it really really really deepens my already horrid depression that I can’t write and I can’t release content rn #bc it means that source of pure happiness is gone with it and I’m left feeling all worthless again. idk how to fix all this. idk if I can.#I’m just so so so tired;;;;;#i forgot where I was going with this I feel like I keep repeating myself but anyway that’s all for now I’m gonna go see if I can cry #oh! one more thing. i haven’t talked to my Blood Family (apart from my sisters and Rarely my dad) SINCE I GOT KICKED OUT but last night my #aunt called me and we talked about my mother and she had a breakdown to me over the phone so I remembered all over again what it was like #living with my mother and maybe realized I never actually processed any of that trauma. it’s all just coming pouring out thru my writing.#all the Abuse themes going on in CMTO? 100% projection so sorry u had to witness this guys 💜 but anyway she told me I rlly helped validate #her own feelings and apologized for crying to me ab this but I told her what I tell everyone—that Crying Is Good For The Soul #and maybe that’s why I’ve been crying so much lately. because I need to. and I need to stop holding everything in. my friends are genuinely #worried and I somehow convinced myself that they have better things to do than listen to my whining. so anyway I’m gonna go cry 💜#for self care purposes. ok done for real this time see y’all soon next time I decide to rant in the tags again #mal rants

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fatuifucker · 2 years ago

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stream clip: posting your boobs on twitter so scara can win a twitter poll

PAIRING = streamer! scaramouche x fem-sex reader (they/them pronouns used but mention of boobs)

WARNINGS = boobplay (reader receiving), not canon to sucker series storyline, scuffed writing

W/C = 0.5k

A/N = from this post, yayy congrats on scara for winning and thank you scaranation for helping! also not...very...proud of it though,, despite my love for boobs, i don't read wlw smut so i don't know how to write them :shrug: i'm sorry i'll try harder next time aaaaaaaaa

TAGS = @midnxght-sweet-time, @zen-daydreams, @edenialucas, @huboi, @nejibot, @teallapril, @lovediluc, @yumixxn (i can't tag some of you guys sorry)

scara☆lover @yn-reader

If Scara wins I'll post a pic of my boobs

[stream deja vu!! @best-streamers

round one: 06ScaraBalladeer vs KoushiWhale]

scara-sama @06ScaraBalladeer

They said it! A vote for me is a vote for free boobs!

[scara☆lover @yn-reader

If Scara wins I'll post a pic of my boobs]

—

You: Kuni

You: What did you do?

Kuniku<3: Huh what are you talking about

Kuniku<3: How far are you from home? I want my cake

You: Kuni, you know what you retweeted

Kuniku<3: Oh that…hehe, just a little encouragement to get people voting for me

Kuniku<3: Aka the most prettiest doll in the universe

Kuniku<3: You wouldn't let me lose, would you?

You: Kuni.

Kuniku<3: Besides when I win, we'll get more clout for the channel

Kuniku<3: And you said you'd do anything to help me grow, riiiight?

You: …

—

"Get a good shot. We need to thank them properly, don't you think?"

You position the phone close to your chest — showcasing your assets while concealing your face from view. Scara's signature lace gloves cup your breasts, his breath blowing into your ear as he orders you to take a picture.

"That's good enough," he says, snatching the phone from you and going on your account.

"I'm surprised you're okay with that. I thought you didn't want me to sell my body."

"It's fine, we'll deleting the post in a minute." He removes his gloves and tosses it aside. "And it's not like they'll know that you're my s/o. They'll just think I'm rewarding a fan, probably make some creepy comments, which all means more clout." He taps the post button before leaving the phone on the table and reaching over to grab a bottle of lotion. “Now that’s done…let me appreciate you too.”

Kuni squirts out a few pumps of the lotion, spreading it evenly atop his palms. The delicate scent of rain and lavender is pleasing and even therapeutic; well, you bought it for Kuni because of its calming properties. He shifts his body, spreading his legs as an invitation for you to come closer. Knowing what he intends on doing, you lean your back against his chest.

Kuni’s hands make their way to your chest and gently kneads your breasts. His thumbs dig at the flesh, the pads of his fingers putting the right amount of pressure. He hums as spreads the sticky white substance all over your mounds, and you know he’s smiling behind you.

“Poor thing, look at all this tension you’ve built up,” Kuni coos. “You’ve been working so hard for my sake, haven’t you?” His fingers circle around your areola, making you jump when he roughly pinches your nipples. “What a good little producer I have.”

Burying his face into your nape, Kuni continues to massage your tits, drinking in all your whimpers and cries. The lavender scent — that was meant to calm you down — is hypnotic, the squelchy sounds of the viscous liquid on skin adding to the muddled mess in your mind. You weakly call out his name, but the only salvation you received was a warm tongue gliding the shell of your ear. All you could do is sink into his hold, shutting your eyes as you succumb to the pleasure.

“Hehe, (Name), you truly are adorable.”

#genshin impact smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin smut #scaramouche x reader smut #genshin scaramouche x reader smut #scaramouche smut #genshin scaramouche smut #sucker au #sucker series

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strange-dreams-are-made-of-these · 3 years ago

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You Made Her Shine

Summary: The reader is having issues internally dealing with her past truamas. One specific person decides to go on air and twist a story for his liking. Stephen does not approve of this message. Reader is 34 and Stephen is 44-45. Based after Endgame, before NWH

Part Two here!!

Word Count: 2,020

Warnings: Angst, childhood trauma (absent father, maturing young), Fluff at the end, i think thats it?

A/N: This was something i had to put together. Writing is therapeutic, and i can help myself release these emotions in a safe space. This origin is slightly based on my childhood (not 100% of it is true), but just enough for me to see a part of myself in it. Also, the gif used was created by @cumberbatchlives as per the credit in the bottom left.

Father's day weekend wasn't always her favorite time of the year. There was nothing against the time of year or anything. It was just a simple reminder to the woman that she missed out on so many different life lessons from having an absent father. It was something she struggled with internal, keeping it from the people in her immediate life. So when her biological father was seen doing an interview about her, she watched it with seething rage for him.

"So, what was it like to raise, Y/n? She's a superhero, having been found responsible for saving lives in New York three years back and then being a part of the Avengers to defeat Thanos! That must be remarkable." The woman interviewing him was doing her job, and Y/n understood. What she couldn't understand was why he looked so damn proud, sitting on a couch and wearing a suit. It looked expensive, worth a lot of money.

"Where to begin?" The man chuckled. "Y/n was the apple of my eye-"

"Was?" The interviewer asked.

The man chuckled, pulling at his collar. "Life comes with different stages. When she was little, we were inseparable. After she turned eleven, she became her mother's daughter. They were two peas in a pod, joined together at the hip." He spoke, grinning the whole time. "Not many people get to say that their daughter is an Avenger, working fighting alongside Kings, Gods, and super soldiers. I wish there was footage of the fight against Thanos so I can point her out. I can say, Hey that's my daughter."

"Yeah, you would like, wouldn't you?" The woman whispered to herself, watching the screen intently.

That was when Stephen walked by, seeing her watching the interview. Her right leg was bouncing, her fingers interlocked together tightly as she sat on the edge of her seat. He knew something was wrong. He looked to the screen, seeing his name in a banner below his image. Rick Swann, that was his name. The woman dropped his name long before he could ever remember, picking up her mother's last name while still attending grade school. He watched as the station played videos of Y/n saving people from debris, collecting children who were separated from their families, and fighting the bad guys. He could see the resemblance between the two of you, nothing more than your hair and eye color. Just enough for a logical guess.

"Mr. Swann, tell us, how did you feel when Y/n contacted you after the fight? Certainly, the both of you checked on each other."

There was a slight twinge in the man's neck, but he played it off by running his hand across it. "I called her, and we cried. It had been so long since I heard her voice. I told her how much I loved her, and how proud I am to be her father."

"LIAR!" The woman yelled, standing up and throwing the remote across the room. She worked herself up a little bit, waving her hands in front of her to turn the television off using her mystic arts training.

Stephen stepped into the room, holding his hands out in front of him. "I don't think the remote deserved that." He replied, getting her attention.

The woman turned around, seeing Stephen dressed in his comfortable clothing. It was a nice change of pace from his Masters Robes. She looked at him for a few moments before turning her face to the side, relaxing her shoulders as she slowed her breathing down. "I'm sorry."

Stephen watched her as she tried to calm down, sensing there was more to the story. "No need to be." His voice was calming, something that the woman loved about him. He was a gentle giant in her eyes. He could do wrong, nobody was without imperfections, but Stephen's soul was unique. "What was that about?"

She looked at him again, watching as he walked over to where she had been, appearing interested in her outburst. She took a step to the side, sitting back down on the couch, giving him room to sit as well. She rubbed her hands together, trying to figure out the best way to start her story. "I don't know how much of that you saw."

Stephen sat down next to her, tucking one leg under him. His right foot rested under his left knee as his left hand reached down to rest on his right calf. "What I saw was somebody struggling to tell the truth."

The woman met his eyes, her normal light-hearted and enthusiastic stare was now one of gloom and hatred. They were wet as if he interrupted her from crying. "That's an understatement." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"You can tell me if you want."

She knew Stephen wasn't the type to demand information from his friends or the ones he cares about. He was much more relaxed than the man who was on the screen minutes before. She shook her head, her eyes darting down quickly before catching his again. "The man is promoting himself as a loving, caring father. A father who was honored to have their daughter fight to save the world, be known as a public figure for helping the innocent."

Stephen nodded slowly, his right arm resting on the back of the couch near her shoulder, and his thumb and index finger reached out to rub the fabric of her jacket. A soothing gesture to help her relax. She appreciated it, he could tell when her eyebrows began to relax from their once pursed expression. "But?"

"But he never was." She responded, almost defeatedly. "He never cared about me. He never cared about my mother or my brother. He was always at the office, pinning the next intern who entered his office. He only showed up to events where he would look good if it was known I was his daughter. Award ceremonies, championship volleyball games, my high school graduation, and my college graduation. He didn't live with us. He had an apartment-" She exhaled deeply, feeling frustrated that she had to explain to Stephen something that she never worked through herself. She looked down again, her eyes clenching shut as she tried to keep her composure.

Stephen gave her the time to gather her thoughts back. How he wished he could change those memories for her, or find her quicker in life so she may not have always focused on the pain.

Y/n continued on. "He was the first man to break my heart. My heart broke years before I even realized what happened. I lived with the guilt that I wasn't a good enough daughter for him. I thought that I was an embarrassment. I never saw him much growing up outside of major events. Even then, I didn't see him for long. I was there for my brother growing up. I took him to get his tuxes for his events." She laughed a little, recalling a memory. "I made a dinner for him and his prom date, both years. I set up our patio and decorated it, giving him and his date a special memory to have. I taught him how to tie his tie. I taught him how to ride a bike. I took him out for driving lessons on the weekends." Then the regret set in again. How much it hurt to have to grow up so young and help her mother raise her baby brother.

Stephen watched her as she rolled through the emotions. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I never knew-"

"I never wanted anybody to know," somberly she admitted. She looked back up at him, the tears welling in her eyes. "I thought that the fight to bring everybody back was going to be my biggest fight. It will never compare to how I fight every day with myself to never make somebody else feel the way he made me feel." She was truly broken, beyond what she ever thought was possible. "He waited until my brother was dead to say those things. He knows that if he was around now, that interview would have never happened." She began to cry, placing her hands in front of her face, and beginning to lean forward.

Stephan caught her, wrapping his arms around her. He loved Y/n so much, having developed quite a relationship with her before he disappeared in the blip. She met him shortly after he became the new Guardian of New York and the sorcerer supreme. He helped to train her, and she taught him so much more about getting a second chance, so much more about life. From everything he knew about her, he would have never imagined her start in life was so broken. "It's okay now. I've got you." He whispered in her ear, pressing a quick kiss to her temple.

"It's not fair. He broke my mother's heart and gave her money to raise us instead of owning up to his responsibilities. Why marry her when he never loved her? Why have kids when he was never going to commit?" She asked him, resting in his tender embrace.

Stephen held her, rubbing circles into her back as she found comfort in his arms. "I wish I could tell you, Y/n. I wish I could have been there, but we both know we can't change the past. For whatever, messed up reason, you were meant to live through that. But look at you now! You're a master of the mystic arts! You saved billions of lives from mass genocide. And, you have me now."

The woman pulled her head back, looking into his eyes. He never had to remind her of her accomplishments. He never once had to speak about her achievements. None of that mattered to her. What he did say that mattered to her though? She had him. There was no fault in his voice, no twinge of muscle or tendon, no need to pull on his collar. He was certain, his body language reassuring her. But it wasn't enough to be sure. "What if you meet somebody better?"

Stephen looked at her, bringing one hand up to wipe the tears that fell from her face. "I have met better. I met you. I met you when you were at your worse, and you still didn't act like you were the world's most pitiful human being. You care for those around you. For some reason, you decided to care for me."

The woman searched his face, feeling all the negative emotions leave her body and allowing for all the love he was giving her to take over her thoughts. "I love you, Stephen Strange. Please don't leave me."

Stephen pressed another kiss to her forehead, his lips then trailing down to kiss the tip of her nose. "I would never want to leave you, Y/n." His reply caused her to cry again, this time in happiness. He was angry with the man who was on the screen, angry that he acted the way he did. But if it weren't for his actions, he would never have Y/n as his person. "I think that we should go out tonight." He suggested.

She sniffled a little before looking at him again. "Really?"

Stephen nodded. "Yes, well, the world is saved again. The population was brought back, thanks to you and your thinking with the other Avengers. We haven't had a proper date night since the fight. I'll pull out one of my expensive suits too, nothing like the fake trash he was wearing."

Y/n licked her bottom lip, nodding to everything he had to say. "Yeah, a date sounds good." She loved the thought of seeing him in his suits, knowing he had a preference for Armani. She loved him in his casual clothes too, like the ones he was currently wearing. But to be able to dress up in one of her dresses to show off how soft and delicate she could be was a nice feeling too. "Thank you, Stephen, for everything."

"Thank you, for trusting me."

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