#I’ve done it before and I can do it again
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crookedfivefingers · 2 days ago
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GET. YOUR. BLOODWORK. DONE. Check your hormones! Learn what they mean!
I spent years 100% convinced I had PMDD. My periods were usually several months apart, completely unpredictable, and I’d go through like a dozen pregnancy tests a year because my symptoms would get so intense (horrible mood swings and depression, nausea, sore tits) for 2-3 weeks at a time.
I had bloodwork done once in my mid twenties and again at thirty, found out both times my “progesterone was a little low”. The solution both times was to give me a ten day prescription for progesterone to trigger my period—and no further advice. 💀
A few years ago, I became close with a brilliant woman in Serbia who enjoys my fanfiction 😂 Come to find out she works in health and wellness. She noticed I was constantly complaining about being hormonal and finally broke down and asked for my bloodwork results. She had me start taking a natural progesterone supplement (two weeks on, two weeks off).
Turns out, not only do I definitely not have PMDD, but I now have a perfectly normal and regular menstrual cycle. I’m not exaggerating when I say it has changed my entire life! I’m happier and healthier than I’ve ever been, I barely even get PMS (I’ll have a few days where I’m a bit emotional/horny and crave sweets but I can pinpoint it on a calendar every time), and my mental health has never been better. The “PMDD” was ruining my life. Now it’s gone.
I’m not saying everyone with hormone issues/bad PMS/etc has low progesterone. I’m just saying that if you do have hormone issues, you can likely find relief in some way or another, and you should get a second opinion if you’re turned away! Also, absolutely get a female doctor if you don’t have one already.
Hormones are a huge goddamn deal. Now is the time to learn about what’s going on with your body. Don’t let your doctor just try and throw antidepressants on you before you know what’s happening in your bloodstream! (Nothing wrong with antidepressants if you need them, though—but if you have hormone imbalances, that should be the first thing you try and tackle)
So many people who get periods are like “Ugh it sucks that having a menstrual cycle makes you almost die every month” like no that’s not normal you need to go to the doctor
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 16
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15
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Aside from bathroom breaks, Eddie doesn’t leave his room for two days. Friday bleeds into Saturday, bleeds into Sunday, and Eddie wallows in it. Wayne knows him well enough to not bother him, but Wayne also knows him well enough to barge into Eddie’s room Sunday morning without even knocking.
“Up, boy,” he says gruffly, turning Eddie’s overhead light on. “Your eggs are getting cold.”
Eddie groans, and tries to roll over to bury his face back into his pillow, but Wayne grabs him by the ankle and yanks until he goes tumbling out of the bed.
“Wayne!”
“I ain’t asking,” Wayne says, storming out of Eddie’s room without closing the door.
As is his right, Eddie whines and rolls around on his floor for a minute until he can finally find the will to get up. Clearly knowing that it would take Eddie a minute, Wayne’s just plating eggs and potatoes as Eddie walks into the kitchen, still clothed in only his boxers and the same shirt he’d been wearing when Carver’d kicked his ass on Thursday.
They settle across from each other at their dingy table, Wayne letting him get a few bites of breakfast in him before the interrogation he knows is coming begins.
“What happened?” Wayne asks, pushing his own plate away so he can focus on staring Eddie down.
Eddie swallows his bite of potatoes, throat suddenly dry. But, he wants to tell someone, he wants to tell Wayne, who, no matter how Eddie fucks up, is always in his corner.
“I’ve been getting these letters,” Eddie starts, using his fork to play with his food so he doesn’t have to meet his Uncle’s eyes as the whole sordid tale comes out.
He tells it like he experienced it: thinking it was a joke at first before getting wrapped up in the letters, finding out it was Chrissy, trying to connect the living, breathing girl to the words on the page.
And then, Harrington, strong and sure as he defended him from Carver, taking care of his wounds in the aftermath, lying to him for months until he couldn't get away with it anymore.
Wayne just listens without interruption while Eddie talks about Jeff’s betrayal, the fear in Chrissy’s eyes, the defeated slope of Harrington’s back as he’d walked out the door, going god knows where with his car still at the quarry where he’d left it.
When Eddie’s finally done, Wayne hums and pulls his now-cold food back in front of him, picks up his fork and starts to eat. Eddie watches him, gobsmacked.
“Wayne?” Eddie asks, moving his hand up and down in front of his Uncle’s eyes, checking to see if the old man can even still see him. “That’s all you’re going to say? Hmm, and then back to breakfast?”
Eddie scowls as he forks another potato into his mouth, chewing as he continues his tirade. “Where are your wise words, old man? Why the hell’d you even make me get up if this is all I was going to get?”
Wayne hums again, clearly just to piss Eddie off, then finally answers, “you needed to eat.”
Eddie stares at him, mouth hanging open half-masticated potatoes on full display for anyone to see. Not that anyone’s going to because Wayne’s gone back to polishing off his breakfast.
“That’s it?” Eddie demands, throwing his fork down in a huff.
Wayne sighs, like Eddie’s the one being unreasonable here and finally puts his fork down to meet his nephew’s eyes.
“Finish your breakfast, and we can talk.”
Eddie whines, but dutifully scarfs down his plate, never breaking eye contact with his uncle, like they’re in a stand-off. And in a way, they are.
Once done, Eddie tosses his fork across the room into the sink just to prove a point, leans across the table and glares at Wayne. Because he’s an asshole, Wayne takes another sip of his coffee, maintaining eye contact, before finally opening his mouth to speak.
“You like this boy?” Wayne asks.
Eddie sputters and stalls out. “You—I—what?” Eddie asks, fisting his hands into his greasy hair.
“It ain’t an unreasonable question,” he replies. “You’re talking about the kid like he’s a knight in one of those little games you like so much.”
“I—no I wasn’t!” Eddie cries, cheeks burning at the implication.
“Mmmhmm,” Wayne replies, eyebrow raised as he drinks more of his coffee like what he’s saying is of no importance at all.
“Wayne,” Eddie says, leaning over the table to clutch at his shoulders, ribs protesting at the pull. “I’m not gay.”
And that, out of everything, is what gets Wayne to put his mug back down and take Eddie seriously. “You ain’t?” Wayne asks, eyebrow raised. Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide. “You sure? There’s an awful lot of men in leather on your walls.”
Eddie squawks, sinking painfully back into his seat. “That’s Metallica.”
Wayne squints at him. “Is that one of them code words y’all use to stay safe?”
Eddie stands up, chair screeching against the linoleum floor. “It’s a band, Wayne!” Eddie cries, at a loss for what the fuck is happening. “I’m not gay!”
Wayne looks up at him, both eyebrows raised enough to scrunch up his forehead, wrinkling his mostly-bald head. “Well, alright then.”
Eddie stares at him, brain buzzing with even more questions than he’d had before. How long had Wayne thought he was gay? Why? What did he do?
Was he really okay with it?
Eddie turns on his heel and marches out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom without another word. He slams the door and collapses onto his bed, gut squirming with all the thoughts churning in his head.
*** 
Chrissy isn’t surprised when Eddie doesn’t come to school on Monday; she is surprised when Steve does. He’s got bags under his eyes and Robin Buckley super-glued to his side, but he’s still there.
She can’t help the way she runs into his arms, leaving Jeff behind without thought. Steve catches her—he always does, pushing his hands beneath his letterman jacket to grab at her waist and pull her in. They sway there in the middle of the hallway, all their classmates jeering around them.
Chrissy doesn’t care; she’s spent the entire weekend thinking about the crushed look in his eyes as he walked out of the Munson trailer without a backwards glance
“You’re okay?” she asks, face pressed into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.
He runs his hand up and down her back as he responds, “I will be.”
She pulls back to smile up at him and reaches up to brush a floppier-than-usual lock of hair behind his ear. “Walk me to class?”
He links their elbows, and does just that, Jeff and Robin falling into line behind them, Robin prattling on about some movie marathon her and Steve had had at her house over the weekend. 
Chrissy’s just glad he wasn’t alone.
Steve sighs, shoulders slumping as he says, “I’m sorry, Chris,” he says, not looking her way. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess.”
She stops abruptly enough that Robin stumbles into them and bounces back, cutting off her stream of words mid-babble to squawk at them. Chrissy doesn’t acknowledge her, too busy standing on her tippy toes so she can grab Steve’s shoulders and yank him down to her level.
“You listen to me, Steve Harrington,” she demands, looking into his big, bewildered eyes. “Your mess is my mess, okay?”
He’s still just staring at her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, so she digs her nails in hard and says, “forever,” with as much finality as she can muster.
He keeps staring at her, looking like he’s about ready to burst into tears in the middle of the hallway. Finally, he says, “come over tonight?” more a demand than a question.
She drops her grip on him and nods, content.
Chrissy doesn’t ask questions when Steve leads her over to Robin in the cafeteria. It’s easy to take that last, final step into social suicide with him at her side. 
They fall into their usual routine that night—they watch trashy TV neither would admit to liking to another living soul, and paint each other’s nails.
The lack of letter writing sits like a dead body between them.
“He won’t tell anyone,” Chrissy says, tightening her grip on his hand when he jerks. Chrissy keeps carefully painting his nails, her favorite pink, not looking up at his face. The color suits him—it’s not fair, but everything does. “He promised.”
Steve doesn’t ask for clarification, they both know who she’s talking about. “You believe him?”
She thinks about that torn, guilty look on Eddie’s face and replies, “I do.”
She finishes his pinkie and settles his hand down on her own knee to dry, knowing from previous experience that if she gives it back, he’ll ruin all her work running his hand through his hair.
“That’s good,” he mutters, looking down at his own hand, tilted so far forward that even when she looks up, his hair’s flopped too far into his face to see his eyes. “It still hurts.”
Chrissy sighs. She’d seen this coming all those months ago when she’d helped pen the first letter. Had seen the writing on the wall like it was she herself that was writing it. But, she’d helped him anyway, hoping to salvage his safety, if not his dignity.
She can only hope she has.
“I know,” she replies, biting her lip against apologies he won’t accept. “But, we’re in this together, okay?”
Steve’s fingers twitch on her leg, but he doesn’t pull away. “Even with you and Jeff?”
“You figured that out, huh?” she asks, and that’s what finally gets him to look up at her with a raised brow, making her laugh.
“I mean, you told me you were going to ask him out,” he starts, before leering over at her. “And you two aren’t exactly subtle.”
“Tell that to Eddie,” she replies, wanting to swallow the name back down once it comes out of her mouth, but it’s too late—it’s already been said.
Steve smiles wryly as he says, “well, he’s not exactly the most observant, is he?”
He has her there. Steve himself, no matter how hard he tried, wasn’t subtle with his affections: the compliments, the stuttering over his words, the blushing. But none of it had done more than make Eddie give Steve suspicious looks, like there was some sort of game he wasn’t in on.
There was, but even without knowing he was playing, he’d still beaten Steve.
“No, he’s really not.”
Steve hums, picking up his hand to check if it’s dry before moving onto painting her nails. He picks his favorite yellow for her, even though he knows it washes her out. She holds out her hand and doesn’t complain.
“I really like him,” Steve says, quietly enough that it’s barely audible over the murmur of voices coming from the TV.
“I know,” she whispers, watching the flickering sadness on his face by the illumination of the Harrington’s big television screen. “I love you. You know that, right?”
He pauses in painting her nails to meet her eyes, smiling for real now. “I know,” he says, stroking the skin on her wrist with the free fingers not holding the nail polish applicator. “And you know what? This was all worth it if I got you out of it.”
And then he just goes back to painting her nails like that wasn’t the most romantic thing anyone has ever said. Eddie Munson can fuck himself; Chrissy’s going to be buried in Steve’s letterman jacket and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
*** 
Eddie doesn’t go to school on Monday. He’s too busy rereading the secret admirer notes—the notes Steve Harrington left him—like if he reads them in the right order, it’ll all snap together in his brain in a way that makes fucking sense.
And it does, sort of. It’s like sorting out a bunch of puzzle pieces after finally knowing what the shape of the puzzle even is. Some parts of the letters just jump out of the page, the longer he looks. In the end, he processes this the way he processes everything: he makes a list.
   Proof that Steve Harrington is my Secret Admirer:
   1. I’m not trying to bully you.
   2. I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you.
   3. I know you don’t like them, but I like sports.
   4. My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors.
   5. But my eyes? They’re brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours.
   6. I tried playing the piano again, and I’m a little rusty.
   7. Do you hate all of them, or just the bullies?
   8.   You laughed, but it wasn’t your real laugh like when Mr. Danver accidentally said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’.
A jock afraid of Eddie labeling them as a bully? Check. Favorite color, the same one Steve Harrington had painted his nails all those weeks ago? Check. Rich enough to have a piano that’s just not played? Check. But the most damning part of all: Chrissy was never in Mr. Danver’s class with him last year, but Harrington was. And Chrissy? Her eyes are bright, translucent blue.
The longer he looks at those two incriminating bits of evidence, the stupider he feels. It was never her, and from the looks of it, they hadn’t put much effort into pretending it was. It was always Harrington from that first, forever-lost letter that they’d stuffed in his locker.
And the longer he pours over the letters, the less he can picture Chrissy sprawled on her bed, writing each letter with a shy flourish before spraying it with a puff of her favored scent. No. It’s Harrington, frowning down at the page because words have never come easy to him; it’s Harrington sleeping with Eddie’s letter placed gently beneath his pillow; it’s Harrington who’d made Eddie smile like a schoolgirl with her first crush.
And now that he thinks about it, wasn’t it Harrington whose eye he kept catching from across the cafeteria? Harrington who’d stutter over his words around Eddie, but still told him he was a good storyteller?
Harrington who wanted to go to his show. Chrissy hadn’t even remembered Corroded Coffin’s name. 
Harrington had–of course he had. 
And he can picture that, too now. Harrington in the crowd in his stupid polo with his bright yellow nail polish, sticking out like a sore thumb in the gruff crowd at the Hideout, beautiful brown eyes trained solely on Eddie.
He can still feel the way his pulse had ratcheted up when they were in the bathroom, Harrington between his spread thighs, palms warm against his tender ribs, sucking all the oxygen out of Eddie’s lungs with how close he was.
It’s too much.
“Hello?” Jeff’s mom sounds curt over the phone, already fed up with Eddie calling before he’s even said anything. Eddie doesn’t care; he can’t when he needs Jeff this badly.
“Can I talk to Jeff?” he cries out, hand shaking around the receiver as he listens to her grumble, but she still shouts for her son to come pick up the goddamn phone. 
“Hello?”
Eddie should wait until he’s sure Jeff’s mom is no longer in hearing vicinity, but he can’t, too wound up tight to keep from blurting out, “am I gay?”
There’s a moment of silence that Eddie can barely breathe through before Jeff says, “uhh, Eddie?” in such a bewildered voice that Eddie sort of wants to punch him.
“Yes, yes, it’s me,” he says, words spilling out over each other. “And I’m sorry about what I said, and you’re sorry that you kept secrets from me—we can do that later, Jeff!”
“Uh, oka—”
“Now, am I gay?” he’s panting by the time he’s done, not having taken a single breath during his tirade. He’s waiting for Jeff’s confirmation or denial, but all that comes down the line is his quiet breathing. “Jeff?”
“Uh, shit, we’re doing this? Okay.” Eddie can almost picture the fed-up palm Jeff’s rubbing against his face, as if it’s somehow Eddie’s fault that Jeff is taking so long explaining the squirmy nebulous feeling in Eddie’s gut. “I don’t know man, why do you think you’re gay?”
Then, Eddie does what he should have done all along, and spills everything to Jeff, from the first letter all the way up to Steve Harrington’s bitchy little speech in the quarry as he put himself bodily between Eddie and Jason Carver.
“—and then he kneeled between my knees like that’s a normal, straight guy thing to do and just like, put his hands in my shirt!” Eddie whines, long since having settled onto the cold linoleum of his kitchen floor. “I mean, what the hell?”
“I think you’re forgetting one important fact, dude: Steve’s not straight.”
“Which brings me back to my question!” Eddie replies, trying for breezy and landing on whiny. “Am I gay?”
Jeff hums down the line like he’s really thinking about it this time. “Well, when he was touching you,” he starts, like that already doesn’t have Eddie’s face flaming, “what did you feel?”
Eddie puts himself back into that moment, thighs splayed pressed open by the heavy weight of Harrington’s body, Harrington’s big, warm hands running over his skin, his worried golden brown eyes roving over Eddie’s face.
“I felt like I was on fire,” Eddie whispers, feeling that same heat now pooling lower in his gut.
“…in a good way?” Jeff asks.
Eddie’s brain goes static, full of too much to differentiate good from bad, if that’s a distinction that ever existed at all. Eddie makes a questioning noise in his throat, knees twitching restlessly where they’re crossed in front of him.
“Okay, okay, uhh—hmm,” Jeff hums across the line. “Did you want to move closer or away?”
Eddie closes his eyes and thinks, imagining that trapped, warm, overwhelming feeling of being caged in by Harrington’s body. “Both?”
Jeff hmms again, clearly trying to think it through. Eddie can’t blame him—this is the most confused he’s been in his entire life, and Jeff doesn’t even have an all-access pass to his brain to try to pick answers out of–not that it’s currently doing Eddie much good.
“Do you want to try kissing a guy?” Jeff asks. “I’d do it, if it was for you, dude.”
Eddie’s nose wrinkles, lips puckering in disgust, “ew, you’re like my brother.”
Jeff laughs at him and replies, “so you don’t want to, not because I’m a guy, but because we’re like brothers? Sounds pretty gay, dude.”
“Oh.”
Jeff doesn’t say anything; he’s always been good at sensing when Eddie just needs a minute to think. But this time, he doesn’t think a minute will cut it, so he continues with a, “hey Jeff?”
“Hmm?”
“I really did mean it, you know.” He squeezes the phone tighter against the side of his face, like that will help his sincerity ring down the line. “I am sorry, and we should talk about it, but I can’t yet.”
Jeff still doesn’t reply, but his breathing is steady and sure down the line, settling Eddie’s anxious heart down to a little flutter.
“Is that okay?” Eddie asks.
“Yeah, dude,” Jeff replies gruffly. “So, you’ll still call me?”
Eddie smiles. He’s missed Jeff, is the thing. They’ve been so distant lately, and no matter how well Eddie and Gareth get along, he’s no Jeff. “Or accost you at school, whichever comes first.”
That makes Jeff laugh; Eddie lets the sound warm him. “Okay, but I’m serious about the kissing thing!” Jeff replies, “Come over and I can plant one right on y—”
Eddie hangs up on his friend, feeling more himself than he has in days. No matter what happens, he has Jeff.
PART 17
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jinwoosbabyboo · 1 day ago
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Blue Magic
How I imagine the lads men (pre-relationship) react to you verbally enjoying them gently greasing your scalp. A/N: This one is specifically for my black girls and anyone with thick hair who understands what it's like to have to grease your scalp. Also for those who understand what it was like growing up with your momma and aunties brushing your neck, ears, forehead, and inner most thoughts. Getting popped with the comb for moving too much and the dread of knowing they’re about to pull out that hot comb. [Requested by: Anon]
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Summary: He was always curious when you would turn down plans because you needed to wash your hair. He never understood why you had Wash Days instead of just a quick wash while you're showering. Since you had a crush on him you took the time to explain how your hair is different from his and how there's no such thing as a quick wash while showering for you. You decided to let him see what all goes into your Wash Days. Now here you were sitting crisscross on the floor in front of your full length mirror surrounded by all your hair tools. You just finished blow drying your hair in four sections and it was a relief to drop your arms and relax them for a while. You hung your head knowing that you had one last step to do before you could lay down.
“Do you need some help?”
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Zayne
Zayne would be so meticulous with his hands as if he were actually doing surgery on your hair. He would be so gentle gliding the rat tail comb through your roots and gently spreading the grease on your scalp and slightly massaging as he went. “I’ve never had someone be this gentle with my scalp” You couldn’t help, but sigh however your sighs seemed to come out as soft whimpers. “Right there, scratch right there” he did exactly as you said and felt his ears getting hot in the process. Hearing you moan and whimper out soft “That feels so good” and “wait wait massage right there” followed by the most sultry sound he’s ever heard come out of you.
Nearly halfway through he's standing at attention. His nerves are on edge and he doesn't want you to see him like this. "I’m sorry, but I have to head home I have an early out-patient to attend to in the morning" You turn suddenly making him jump. "We're only half done" Your words came out more whiney than you intended.
You’re a little confused at his sudden need to leave, but you nod and stand to walk him to the door. "I'll make it up to you. Good Night." You don’t miss the very obvious bulge in his pants as he quickly grabs his coat and slips out your front door.
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Rafayel
Rafayel is unintentionally rough as hell when he starts parting your hair. “Ow! why are you tugging so hard?!” You smack his hands away opting to do it yourself, but he begs to try again and you give in to those big puppy dog eyes he has. “Be gentle!”
Second time around he’s so gentle it almost feels like a lovers touch as he massages the section of your hair before going through with the rat tail comb like you showed him. You can’t help the noises that escape out of you as he smears just the right amount of grease on your scalp. “Are you always this vocal during this process?” He asks in almost a whisper. You try to turn to look at him, but he quickly snaps your head back towards the mirror, hiding his face behind your head. “It feels good when someone else does it” Another sigh leaves you as he keeps going “Please don’t stop” Once he reaches the last section you end up leaning slightly back into him and thats when you feel something poking your lower back.
Y/N: Raf are you…..are you turned on? Rafayel: You’re the one moaning my name while im doing this! Y/N: So it’s my fault? Rafayel: YES Y/N: pokes it Rafayel: do that again and im calling the authorities
He quickly excused himself out of the room while you cleaned up your mess of hair products.
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Xavier
Xavier is hanging on by a single worn thread while he’s greasing your scalp. He can barely make it through the first section before he’s already nearly panting listening to you moan “Thank you Xavier” Hearing his name on your lips like that had him near feral. “You’re welcome” He whispered in a raspy tone. You feel him constantly adjusting his position and clearing his throat while he slowly works his way through the next section of hair. “Right there rub right there” You whimper and he inhales deeply as he does as you say. “Right here?” His voice is low and gravelly it actually sends tingles through your body.
Xavier literally can’t take it. His composure was slipping the minute you sighed his name. He managed you finish the job only to turn and tilt your head back to look in your eyes. The tension was always thick between you two. His gaze bounced from your eyes to your lips and you melted when he whispered “Can I kiss you?”
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Sylus
Sylus is outing you right then and there he don’t care. The minute you whimper from his fingers gliding across your scalp he’s smirking. He’s so gentle while he does it you almost forget this is a Mafia Don that you have greasing your scalp in the middle of the night. “People would get the wrong idea if they could hear you now” He teased in that sultry voice of his. You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you that quickly dissipated the second he started massaging your scalp again. “It just feels so good” You whimper again while he slowly works his way through your hair. “I can tell”
He would be able to hold his composure throughout the entire process and by the time he’s done you can finally think clearly. You quickly slip your bonnet on and turn to face him thats when you notice his red cheeks and ears. “You’re never going to do this for me again will you?” You see the corner of his mouth quirk upwards.
He’s enjoying this.
“I don’t mind making you moan again” You shove his shoulder and he just chuckles as you pound your fist into his chest. “You owe me a scalp massage now sweetie”
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moonstruckme · 1 day ago
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And since you're such an angel, I would love some:
snow angels with doctor!remus
Thank you and please hydrate 💧
Awee you're too sweet to me, thanks for requesting lovely <3
cw: blood (not a lot? if that helps), dizziness/lightheadedness
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 686 words
Remus cups your face in his hand, brows woven together in concern. “Did you eat lunch?” he asks you. 
“Yeah.” 
“What’d you have?” He swipes his thumb gently over your cheek before leaving you, going into the nearby bathroom. 
“A sandwich.” You sound a bit defensive, which isn’t strictly fair. You know you gave Remus a bit of a fright when he came home to find you lying on the rug between the living room and the kitchen, too scared to get up. It was perhaps a tad dramatic—you could’ve walked over to the couch if you’d really wanted to, you’re sure—but you didn’t see any point in pushing yourself when you felt so dizzy and shaky on your feet. Remus has taken it as more cause for alarm than you have. 
He comes back with a blood pressure monitor and a couple of other things, setting them on the kitchen table in front of you. “That sounds fine,” he murmurs, taking your arm to slide the cuff up it. You have the sensation of swaying in your seat, but you’re not sure if it’s really happening or only in your head. “And it’s been going on for how long?” 
“Since maybe two.” You lean sideways so your head rests on his chest. Remus’ free hand comes up to hold it there gently, pinkie stroking the baby hairs by your temple as the cuff inflates around your arm. 
“You should have called me, sweetheart.” 
“I was okay,” you tell him. “I didn’t really think I was gonna pass out or anything, I just thought it’d be safer to sit down.” 
Remus’ hum conveys some disapproval, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s worthwhile to continue arguing with you. The blood pressure monitor beeps, and he leans forward to read it. 
“Hm, that’s normal.” He takes the cuff off you with a satisfying ripping sound. You curl and flex your fingers against the odd feeling. 
Remus holds your head to his chest with his free hand while he leans forward, grabbing something else off the counter. He takes your hand, but you pull it from his grasp when you see what he’s holding, sitting up. 
“Remus,” you whine. 
He chuckles at your tone. “Dove, it’ll be quick.” 
You let him take your hand again, but don’t allow him to pull it near that clicker thing. “Is it going to hurt?” you worry. 
“No.” 
You make a low, petulant sound in the back of your throat. Ordinarily you might be embarrassed for it, but you’re feeling rather self-pitying right now and entitled to some sulking. “Really?” 
“Yes, love. Relax.” 
Still feeling mistrustful, you allow him to pull your hand closer. He pricks the pad of your finger. 
“Ow—Rem!” 
“It’s okay,” Remus shushes you. “All done.” 
“That hurt,” you complain, vindicated, as he collects the bead of blood on a reader. 
“I know,” he admits. “It does, a little. But only for a second, yeah?” 
You make your displeasure known through your silence. 
“Look.” Remus takes your finger, kissing the back. “It’s better now, see?” He brings your head to his chest again, and it’s difficult to keep from softening when he kisses that, too. “Sorry, dovey.” 
“It’s okay,” you say, begrudging, only because he really does seem to feel a bit bad. 
“Mm.” He reads your blood sugar. “You’re at ninety two.” 
“Is that good?” 
“It’s normal.” Remus holds your cheek again, looking down at you and stroking pensively with his thumb. You’re not sure if he’s feeling for something or just touching you; you’re happy either way. 
He hums softly. “Do you feel tired as well?” 
“A little, yeah.” 
“Headache?” 
You tilt your head back to see him. “What’s it mean?” 
“I’ll take that for a yes, then.” His lips curve softly. “I’m not completely sure what it means yet, but I’ve got a couple of theories.” 
“Can you fix it?” you ask, though really you have complete faith. Remus always fixes it. 
He kisses your head again like he knows what you’re thinking. His lips make a soft landing just short of your hairline. “We’ll see.” 
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valsverse · 21 hours ago
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⠀(୨୧) 💭 ׄ ︵͡ EVERLONG | P. JACKSON
﹙🌊﹚ in which:𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈, 𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎.
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percy glances over his shoulder, his sneakers swinging loosely from his fingertips as he beckons you forward. sand clings to his calves, damp and sticky from the tide that brushed against his legs earlier. he’s barefoot, naturally.
“shoes are overrated,” he whispers to you, the grin on his face soft and crooked.
you pause, glancing down at your own sneakers, a small frown tugging at your lips. “you’re gonna regret that when you step on a shell.”
“nah,” he just grins wider, that boyish thing, sharp and crooked, and it makes you want to throw something at him. “i’ve got you to save me.” you bite back a smile, rolling your eyes, your footsteps quickening as you follow him toward the pier.
the two of you walk side by side, skirting the water’s edge, the rhythm of your steps in sync with his. then, a ripple in the water catches your eye, and you tug at his wrist, a little too hard, a little too frantic.
“percy,” you hiss, pulling at his wrist. “what if the naiads catch us?”
“they won’t,” he assures, though his voice dips quieter. “they like me. i think.”
you snort, nudging his arm and arching a brow, “do they?”
he doesn’t answer, just nudges your shoulder with his—casual, easy—and when you stumble just slightly, his fingers find yours without hesitation. he's not even looking at you—like it's nothing, like it's everything. it’s so natural, like he’s done it a thousand times before. your pulse flutters, but you don’t pull away.
the pier looms ahead, weathered wood creaking under your weight as you step onto it. you both settle at the edge, legs dangling above the dark water. percy places his sneakers beside him and leans back on his hands, his damp hair curling at the ends from his earlier dip in the lake.
“your hair’s a mess,” you say before you can stop yourself, the words spilling out too easily.
he tilts his head, giving you a look that’s half exasperation, half something softer. “it’s fine.”
“it’s not.” you’re already reaching over, brushing a stray curl away from his forehead.
he flinches, a soft sound escaping him—“what are you doing?”
“fixing it.”
“it’s fine,” he mutters again, but he's quieter now, shoulders stiffening as he glances away. his voice cracks on the last word, and you almost laugh, but you don’t.
your fingers move carefully, smoothing the damp strands back into place. he doesn’t flinch this time, doesn’t move away, and when you pull back, his gaze flickers to yours—uncertain, almost shy, like he’s waiting for something, or maybe just hoping.
“better,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.
he doesn’t answer right away. his gaze lingers on your face, steady, like he’s searching for something. and when he speaks again, his voice is nearly a murmur, the words like they weren’t meant for anyone but you.
“you think so?”
you nod, and your heart stutters—once, twice, a quiet thrum against your ribs. the night feels heavier now, like something’s shifting beneath the surface, something unsaid hanging in the air between you.
the air between you feels thicker, but not in a bad way. percy shifts closer, his knee bumping against yours by accident, and your breath catches as you pull away, your heart racing for reasons you can’t quite explain.
he glances at you, that small, soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but it’s different now—more knowing. he’s figured something out. maybe it’s not something either of you have said aloud, but he knows. and he knows that you know, too.
“you’re cold,” he says quietly, noticing the goosebumps on your arms and the chill in your skin.
“i know,” you reply, lips twitching into a small smile. “it’s not a big deal.”
without saying anything, percy takes your hand in his, the warmth of his skin seeping into your cold fingers. he blows a soft breath onto your palm, like he’s trying to warm you up, or maybe just hold on to the moment. his fingertips are a little sticky from the sugary condensation of the soda he was drinking earlier, but the action is endearing nonetheless.
his hands are rough and worn from years of harsh training, with a small callus between his middle and index finger. you notice the little things— like the tiny scar on his thumb, the worn and uneven edge of his nails. he looks at you, eyes soft and serious, like he’s still trying to figure out the mess of this moment, the mess of you.
you don’t break the silence.
then, as if to test the waters, his knee nudges yours again—this time on purpose. his touch is warm, solid, and you don’t move away. you don’t need to. not this time.
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©valsverse — do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.
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mimikittysblog · 1 day ago
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The Princess - Bonus Ending
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Full story! ♡
Pairing: Mafia! Husbands! Poly! Ateez x Fem! Wife! Reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst if you squint really hard.
Synopsis: You found the traitor.
Warnings: Death, Violence, very slight MxM, some descriptions of gore. ⚠️MNDI⚠️ If I missed anything then please let me know!
Word Count: 1.8k Words
A/N: Hehe surprise! An extra ending 🤭 I wanted to add this on in the actual fic, but I liked where it ended off too much. So I decided to make this into a bonus ending where you could read it if you want, or just ignore it if you don’t. Hope you enjoy this too!
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
It has been a little over a week since your kidnapping. Things also have finally gone back to normal.
Except…
“Joooooooonggiiiieee!!!!!”
The yell for the captain of ATZ can be heard throughout the entire mansion, along with the sound of stomping pretty pink high heels.
“Oh my.”
“Well aren’t you in trouble”
Soon the door to Hongjoongs office was bursted open revealing the little fireball of which they call ‘Their Princess.’
“Oh princess.. whats the matter??”
That question only made your frown grow and eyebrows furrow even more.
“You promised we’d finally go shopping today! You said you wanted to dress me up! I’ve been waiting in the living room for over an hour!”
“Oooohh good luck with that!”
“See ya later our troubled husband! Hope she goes easy on you!”
The boys in the room quickly scatter, but of course not before giving you a sweet kiss and a compliment to your pretty outfit.
“Oh darling.. I’m so sorry!! I got caught up with work! Things have gotten so hectic princess.. there are these idiots that are always giving us trouble! And just….” As he kept going trying to give you reasons he notices your expression hasn’t changed at all, which makes him sigh.
Ever since your kidnapping, your husbands have become too anxious. So now they can’t even put their trust into any new body guards. Especially since the one that has ratted out your existence is still unknown.
So they took it upon themselves to always be your chaperone when you go out. As much of a hassle you thought it would be, it honestly just gives them an excuse to be around you even more. So in the end you just let them do it.
“I’m sorry our princess.. I mean it I’m very sorry…” he says as he gets up and makes his way over to you, pulling you close.
“Do you still want to go now..?”
“Can you go?”
“I have to make it up to you, don’t I?”
“And those idiots??”
“Hmmm well.. why don’t you tell me what I should do to them sweetheart?”
“Hmmmph. Well if they’re giving you guys so much trouble and they’re idiots, I don’t see why you can’t just kill them off and take what you need. We have the resources and manpower, plus you’ve done it before! You did it literally a week ago. You’re ATZ for goodness sake. No one is above you!” You say like it was nothing.
And you were right.
Hongjoong chuckles as he sits down and brings you into his lap.
“While you are correct my love, unfortunately what we need from them, requires them to still be alive. For now.” He explains.
“Ughh fineee…” You groan.
As you opened your mouth to speak again. That’s when a loud shrill screech disturbed the peacefulness of the moment.
“What now?!” Hongjoong barked.
“Oh! That must be my doing!” You said with what can only be described as a maniacal glint in your eyes.
“Oh?”
“Come Joongie! I’ll show you! Then we’ll go shopping!”
“Whatever you desire Princess.” He says with a kiss to your new diamond ring.
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
“LET GO OF ME!! LET GO!! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG?! UNHAND ME AT ONCE!!”
“Then why did you run?”
“H-huh..?”
Here in the middle of your grand foyer, was a girl being held down by two men on her knees. Behind her, every single one of your maids stood their sights straight down.
While in front of her is where you stood. Tall and proud. Wearing a stoic expression however the glint from earlier still in your eyes.
“Princess?? What do we have here?” Seonghwa asks.
Your husbands have all now gathered around you on top of the staircase. Simply enjoying the show.
You spin on your heels to look up at them with a wide cheshire grin. “You’ll see my loves!”
“Sirs..! Sirs please!! Please help me! She’s mistaken!”
SMACK
“Don’t you dare speak to my husbands.” You growl. “Ugh look at what you’ve done! You’ve gotten blood on my new ring!” Your finger now slightly dripping blood from where the diamond cut her cheek.
“Oh no.. No worries sweetheart, we’ll make you a new one.” San tells you.
“Oooh! Alright Sannie Thank you!”
“Please.. why are you doing this?? What did I do wrong?”
Your laugh then rings out throughout the foyer. Echoing beautifully off the walls.
“Stop your pathetic little act.” You say as you crouch down to her eye level.
“I know you were the one that snitched about me.”
At this revelation your husbands became even more interested than before. They all perked up and blood boiling again now that they finally have the culprit.
“What?! Who even are you??!”
They’re so angry they want to just run down and tear her limb from limb. However they know you have something plan. So they just let you have your fun.
You smirk widens at Wooyoungs question. As you know how reality shattering it is to her.
“W-what..? You don’t.. recognize me?? Sir Wooyoung! I’ve worked here for years!! ..None.. of you recognize me?” She asks pitifully.
As she looks up at all of them, she sees nothing but fury and confusion. Not a single one of them having any knowledge on who she is.
SMACK
“I told you. Do not. EVER. Speak. To MY. Husbands.”
You then got up and turn back to your loves above you.
“My darlings. This here. Used to be one of our maids. And she thought that by getting rid of me. She could have all of you.”
“What?!”
“How absurd!”
“How stupid is what that is!”
“No! Its not true! It’s not! It wasn’t me!!! I-I would never betray any of you!” She continues to plea.
“Then why. Did. You. Run?”
“I-I didn’t..”
“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice your absence ever since I was returned home? Hah! It’s what gave you away! And you actually thought they would? and what?! go searching for you?!” You laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
“The day after I returned home from my kidnapping. I realized we were short staffed. It didn’t take me long to realize it was you. When I asked, Kim said you resigned due to health. I didn’t believe it for a second. So I had them search your room. And look what I found!”
At your signal, The head maid Kim stepped forward and gave you a pile of letters.
Love letters.
“Hmm. I’m sure you can guess what these are. You wrote them. Each and every one of them. You didn’t hide them very well. Not sure why you didn’t even just burn or take them with you.” You scoff.
“They’re quite romantic actually… If. They weren’t addressed to my beloveds.”
Her blood has gone cold. She doesn’t know what to do. She can only kneel there looking up at you as she fears her fate.
Unfortunately her fate was sealed the second she began writing these letters.
“I-it’s not.. no… I-I never even gave it to them! Please!! It’s not what it looks like.”
“You thought once you got rid of me. You could swoop in and take my place. However once I came back alive, you decided to run. Thinking I would never suspect you. You then also believed that any of my husbands would realize you stopped being around and come looking for you! Because somehow you have convinced yourself that they’re in love with you! They don’t even know you!!”
“THEY LOVE ME!!!”
SMACK
“Oh. That was the hardest one yet.” Mingi whispers to Yunho. Who nods in agreement.
While on the other side of the staircase Yeosang whispers to Jongho about how this maid is insane to ever think that.
“100%.”
“They don’t. Why would they?” You start then throwing her letters in her face.
“Why would distinguished men like them ever waste space in their brains for a lowly pathetic slut like you? Let alone space in their hearts.”
“…I just..”
“Enough talking. You’ve said far more than you deserve. And frankly I’m bored already.”
You then extend your hand out. One of the henchmen that was holding her down then hands you a syringe.
The girl then panics at the sight of an unknown syringe.
“Wait no please! Whats in that?! What are you gonna do to me?!”
“You could’ve had anything you wanted in this mansion. Anything. And I promise you. I would’ve happily given them to you. My clothes. My shoes. My jewels. My gold. Anything. I’m just that generous.”
You open the syringe cap.
“However the thing you decided to covet? Were the only things that were forbidden. My. Prized possessions. My husbands. And for that. You must suffer the consequence.”
Before she can even let out another sound of protest you injected her straight in the neck.
You and the men holding her down then stepped back as her screams quickly filled the foyer. Her skin and flesh melting straight off of her bones.
“So thats what she ordered acid for.” Hongjoong then mumbles.
“You knew she ordered acid?” Wooyoung asks
“She used my card.” Hongjoong shrugs.
It was a ghastly sight but none of them were even slightly bothered.
Well.
Of course the other maids were.
Once her screams come to a halt. And she was nothing but a pile of goop on the once spotless marbled floor.
You laughed.
Your husbands then descended the stairs.
Once your laughing fit was over you addressed the other maids who were still standing there. Mortified of what has become of their once friend.
“Now all of you. Remember my words. You are free to ask anything you want from me. I have more than enough for multiple lifetimes so I’ll be happy to give it to you. However. If you ever even for a nanosecond think. You could replace me or take any of my husbands away from me. Well. Ask her how that turned out for her.” Fire resonating deep in your voice.
“Thats all. Now all of you clean this up please!” You then say with a bright smile as if the past 20 minutes or so didn’t just happen.
“Come now darling. I believe I owe you a shopping trip.” Hongjoong then says as he puts his hand on your lower back.
“Ah yes!! Lets go! May all my beloveds come with?? Then we can have dinner?”
“Why not?” Yunho says with a bright smile.
Your husband then all lead you out to the car.
“You know no one could ever take us from you. Right Princess?” San says softly to you.
“Of course! I would never let them.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. We wouldn’t either.” Yeosang says.
“They literally can’t our love. You have us all wrapped around your pretty delicate fingers.” Wooyoung adds as he kisses your ring finger.
“I know.”
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
© mimikittysblog 2024
Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie @borahae-reads @spenceatiny18 @justconniez @rosydipity @vtyb23 @beccaskz @boredlol914 @ntlmundy @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @ateezswonderland @peachyy-jooniee @robertsbbygirl @hanniehq @smally97 @pixie0627 @haven-cove @jaerisdiction @btskzfav @bbyunicornbby @tinybada @cecilleasworld @mudent @mortal-advocate @jjcanwrite
Those who are italicized I could not tag for some reason :(
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sharkboywrites · 3 days ago
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My perspective on Curly as a victim of abuse
Tw for abuse (physical and sexual)
Hey mouthwashing fandom, so this is kind of a hard topic for me to tackle, but recently with seeing people’s opinions in the fandom on Curly as a character, I want to put in my own two cents as a victim of abuse.
I want to clarify before I start that I am not a victim of sexual abuse specifically. The abuse I faced was physical that bordered on sexual, but I was never sexually assaulted. That’s why this analysis isn’t about the sexual assault aspects of Anya’s abuse, like her relationship with Jimmy, but rather on the aftermath of the abuse on how the people she trusted (specifically Curly) interact with Jimmy after they know.
For context so people can understand my situation: I was in a very physically abusive friendship that bordered on sexual abuse in my freshman year of high school. Now, through my sophomore to senior year, I was forced to be in the same school as this person. In the same classes, in the same clubs, in the same events, and the same friend group as my abuser.
This is why I relate to Anya so heavily. I understand being forced to stay in situations with the person who abused you and being around people who either don’t know or do know and haven’t done anything/hold them accountable.
Now onto the main topic of my rant: Curly. So far from what I’ve seen, Curly is a hot topic for debate on the morality of his character. Anya confided to Curly about the abuse, and Curly, as far as we can see, didn’t do much. This makes it really easy for people to point fingers at Curly and call him an awful person and say that he is just as bad as Jimmy.
This is where I disagree. I don’t think Curly is a bad person.
Again, I understand the pain of having people do nothing. I have watched people I confided in about the abuse I face completely ignore what I have said and continue to be friends with them. I have had people say that I was lying. I have had people defend them right to my face because “They look like they’re getting better” or “But they seem like such a good partner to their (current) girlfriend!”
I get how frustrating that is. I understand the level of hurt that brings and how unsafe that can make someone feel. But once again, this is something the fandom immediately jumps on Curly for without really looking any further into it.
The thing is, these are people I know at school. These are people who can actively control their situations. These people can stop talking to them, stop giving them rides, etc. to stop interacting with them.
This is not the case for Curly and Jimmy. The most obvious thing being: they’re literally on a ship in space. They are all in a confined space and forced to be together for months on end. On top of that, Jimmy is a very unstable person, and Curly probably knows that. A lot of people like to characterize Curly as the “Oh, but he’s my friend, he wouldn’t do that” guy, but that’s not what happened. He listened to Anya, and while he definitely been more empathetic and done a bit more, he still didn’t deny it.
I personally feel like Curly specifically not denying it means he knows that Jimmy did it, and that he knows Jimmy is a bad person.
All of these are faults of Curly’s. He let someone he knew onto was dangerous onto the ship, and when he did something bad, he didn’t do enough to help despite being the captain.
But one thing we do know is that Jimmy is a manipulator. He will manipulate or threaten anyone to get what he wants. First off, we don’t know if Jimmy manipulated Curly to give him the job in the first place, which could have very much happened. Second, he was seen manipulating Curly AGAIN in the psych evaluation scene, the birthday party scene, and near the end of the game when Curly confronts him after talking with Anya.
Every single thing Curly falls short on is a direct effect of Jimmy’s manipulation in the first place. Yes, he absolutely could have done more in both situations, but Jimmy manipulated into him into letting him off easy.
On top of being manipulated by Jimmy, there wasn’t much Curly could do. He can’t just throw Jimmy out into space and he couldn’t let Anya have the gun because he can’t have his crew killing each other obviously (even if Jimmy is a threat).
The only critique I have of Curly at this point is doing more to protect Anya. He could have made a better effort to keep Anya safe from Jimmy and really put his foot down when confronting him.
Although again with all of this, it just boils down to Jimmy. If manipulation doesn’t work with Jimmy, then he uses threats or brute force. Curly probably knows that Jimmy is unstable, and probably didn’t know what he would do if he had been firm with him or done literally anything that could be seen as against him, evidence being the birthday scene. Everything that happened and everything Curly fell flat on was becuase of Jimmy’s manipulation and unpredictability tendencies, so really, it’s not 100% his fault.
Tldr; While Curly could have done a little more and should be critiqued, all of the stuff he falls flat on is because of Jimmy just like everything else in the story, so people should stop treating him like he’s a bad person or could keep Jimmy in control because he was a victim too.
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drowning-in-paragraphs · 11 hours ago
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PLAYING DANGEROUS
jude bellingham x gf!reader
warnings: tension, tension, tension... Maybe (a bit) toxic.
summary: After weeks of fighting over a campaign Jude worked on that sparked jealousy in you, your frustration grows as he dismisses your feelings. Fed up with being ignored, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. As expected, your boyfriend sees red—his control slipping as the night unfolds, and the tension between you two reaches its boiling point. But, of course, you are having so much fun.
The car ride was thick with an uncomfortable silence. Jude gripped the wheel, his jaw set, eyes fixed ahead. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, each sigh and subtle shift a quiet reminder of the tension simmering between you two. After all the back-and-forth arguments you’d had this week, you were both tired of hashing it out—but the hurt and resentment lingered.
You looked out the window, trying to lose yourself in the nightscape rushing by. The bright lights of the city blurred, but your mind was fixed on one image: that campaign photo. The one that had sparked this entire mess. Jude and a stunning model in a luxury campaign, his arm casually slung over her waist, their smiles too bright, too intimate. When you’d seen the ad, it had stung, but what has stung more was the behind the cameras videos. They had chemistry, and she was just as extroverted as him.
It hadn’t helped that when you’d brought it up to Jude, he brushed it off, rolling his eyes and calling you “dramatic” for making a big deal out of nothing. He’d practically laughed it off, leaving you feeling unheard and dismissed. That was the worst part: not just the jealousy, but the way he’d treated it as if it was meaningless.
“Can you not just sit there like I don’t exist?” Jude’s voice broke the silence, low but tight with irritation. “We’re going to this dinner. Can we just act like adults?”
You turned to him, biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying the first sharp thing that came to mind. You’d been here before, and you were too tired of the fighting to start again.
“Jude, you know why we are in this situation,” you said quietly. “I just wanted you to take me seriously and acknowledge my feelings.”
“Acknowledge?” he said, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “All I’ve done this whole week is listen to you accuse me of something I didn’t do. It’s a campaign. That’s it. Nothing more.” He resisted the urge to say, "End of discussion," and focused on the road ahead instead.
“But you didn’t make me feel like it was nothing, Jude. You made me feel like… like I’m stupid for even bringing it up. You think I don’t know that it’s part of your job?” Your voice quivered, and you hated that you sounded so emotional.
Jude’s face softened for a moment, but then he hardened his expression again, as if not wanting to give in. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I thought you knew me better than that, honestly.”
There it was—another subtle jab. The conversation felt like a seesaw, tipping between blame and defense, never quite reaching a point of understanding. You crossed your arms, pressing yourself against the passenger door, feeling miles away from him, though he was just a few feet to your left.
“I just wanted to feel like you cared that I was upset. That’s all. Not for you to laugh it off like it was something stupid.”
He clenched his jaw, as if forcing himself not to retort. His hands tightened on the wheel again. “Look, I get it now. You don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I’ll do my job, you can stay mad at me, and we’ll just keep doing this every week.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and it hurt. “This is getting ridiculous...”
You two were tired of fighting, but something in you, something sharp and bruised, couldn’t let go of the last few days’ arguments. It wasn’t enough for him to be hurt. You wanted him to understand.
“Fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady but feeling anger prickle under your skin. “If it’s so ridiculous, then maybe I’ll make sure you get a taste of what that feels like. You’ll feel as ‘ridiculous’ as you’ve made me feel this week. We’ll see if it’s still a joke then.”
Jude’s head whipped toward you, a mix of shock and anger flashing across his face. “What? Are you serious right now?” His voice was tense, a low warning.
You felt a pang of guilt, but you held his gaze. “I just don’t think you’d understand it any other way.”
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. He stared back at the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The quiet between you was no longer uncomfortable but electric, charged with a bitterness that hadn’t been there before.
The car finally pulled up to the restaurant where you were supposed to meet your friends. The weight of what you’d just said hanging heavily between you. Jude cut the engine and just sat there, staring straight ahead, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. You didn´t move either, not knowing what was he going to do. After a beat, he climbed out, moving around to your door without a word. When he opened it, he didn’t look at you, just held the door and waited for you to step out.
You could see the tension in his posture, his usual warmth and confidence replaced by a coldness that made your heart ache. But you were both too proud, too angry, to say anything.
As you neared the entrance, Jude’s hand shot out, gripping your waist with a firm possessiveness. The touch wasn’t gentle or affectionate as usual; it was more of a declaration. Despite the anger simmering between you, he wasn’t about to let you carry out your threat to make him jealous. You tensed at his touch, your own anger rising as you felt him draw you in as if he could control you with a single motion.
Without thinking, you shrugged him off, shoving him away just enough to make your point. Jude halted, cursing under his breath, as he fought to keep his temper in check. The sharp click of the car lock sounded behind you as he pocketed the key, jaw clenched, but his eyes held yours for a moment. You both understood each other’s challenge, an unspoken line drawn that neither of you wanted to cross but couldn’t seem to avoid.
With your heads held high and expressions perfectly composed, you stepped into the restaurant, slipping on your masks of calm as you approached your friends. Your forced smiles and quiet greetings betrayed none of the tension between you, and you fell into the comfortable rhythm of small talk.
Back at the table, the spark of defiance inside you had turned into a full flame. Watching Jude as he laughed and charmed his way through conversations, acting as if your argument had never occurred, only fueled that fire. He didn´t get to act as if nothing happened. His face was relaxed, his posture easy—but you knew him well enough to sense the barely hidden tension in his movements, the occasional dart of his eyes toward you, checking, warning.
Fine, you thought. If he wanted to pretend everything was fine, you'd go along with it. In fact, you’d be the most composed person at the table. But where was the fun in that?
You turned your attention to the friend sitting beside you, leaning closer with an easy smile as you laughed at his stories. Your hand brushed against his as you reached for your drink, letting it linger just a second longer than usual. The warmth of his arm pressed lightly against yours as you angled your body toward him, giving him your full attention. Jude was watching, and you knew he was watching. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his mouth tighten, his easygoing demeanor slipping just a bit. His brows furrowed, and whatever his friend beside him was saying no longer seemed that interesting.
Good.
As the evening wore on, you let your laughter come a little too easily, smiling at your friend’s jokes, resting your hand briefly on his shoulder as you leaned in, your face just inches from his. Jude’s gaze was practically drilling into you, a dark intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, thrilling and defiant all at once.
You were loving it.
His hand came to rest on the table, fingers drumming an agitated beat, his knuckles white. At one point, he leaned forward to reach for his drink, and the subtle brush of his shoulder against yours sent a shiver down your spine. You caught his eyes, holding his gaze in challenge.
“You okay, baby?” you asked with a smile—the prettiest smile you could offer, eyes shining with a hint of mischief.
In response, his hand drifted under the table, finding your thigh and gripping it firmly. The heat of his palm burned through the silky fabric of your black dress, his fingers possessive, unapologetic. You swallowed, trying to focus on the conversation in front of you, but the pressure of his hand sent your pulse racing, a blend of anger and something far more dangerous surging through you.
Ignoring his grip, you shifted slightly and crossed your leg, pulling away just enough to let his hand slip, but not before his fingers tightened in a quick, heated squeeze. He didn’t let go; instead, he moved his hand further up, his fingers now grazing your upper thigh, daring you to push him away. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, you leaned even closer to your friend, laughing softly as you let your hair fall forward, just brushing Jude’s arm in the process.
You could feel the heat of Jude’s glare on your skin, the simmering anger in every tense line of his body. You risked a quick glance his way, only to find him staring back at you with a look so intense, so darkly possessive, it was almost predatory. You'd seen this look before, but only when you had pushed him too far, ignited something in him he couldn’t control. It was a fire you both knew too well, one you had stirred with every challenge, every teasing word. And now, that fire was about to consume everything.
“Come on, keep pushing me, love.” He muttered sarcastically, each word perfectly pronounced, making sure you heard him loud and clear.
He lifted his glass, fingers curling possessively around the stem, and took a slow, deliberate sip, never once breaking his intense eye contact. As he set it down, his gaze trailed down to your lips, full and inviting, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then, his eyes moved lower, lingering on the soft curve of your breasts, which you had purposefully exposed just enough to rile him up when he wasn’t looking. His stare lingered there, hungry, possessive, making your stomach tighten with a mix of anticipation and anger.
No. No. He didn't get to be in control. This time, you were the one leading. Why did he manage to make you so nervous with just a few touches and his confident smirk? It wasn't fair.
His hand drifted higher on your thigh, and you fought to keep your breath steady. The weight of his touch sent a rush of heat through you, but you refused to look his way, keeping your attention on the friend beside you. Due to all the bickering and pointless arguments, it had been far too long since you’d been close to each other. Now, his touch sent a butterflies to your stomach, its effect magnified—three times more intense than before. Jude’s fingers tensed, his grip growing firmer, sending a clear message, a silent warning. But you leaned in again, touching your friend as you laughed, your fingers trailing along his, knowing exactly how it looked.
Jude’s jaw clenched, his leg brushing firmly against yours under the table, his knee pressing against you with an undeniable possessiveness. His hand squeezed your thigh, almost painfully, and you knew he was at his limit.
So, you laughed again, but this time harder at your friend’s joke.
“Something funny?” Jude muttered in a low voice, his words quiet enough that only you could hear, laced with irritation and a hint of warning.
You turned to him, your expression innocent, even sweet. “He’s just hilarious,” you said with a slight, shy and cute smile, raising your glass and meeting his eyes in a silent challenge.
His gaze darkened further, his fingers moving in a slow, heated drag along the inside of your thigh, and for a brief second, you fought to keep your composure, refusing to let him see how much he was getting to you. His touch was a slow burn, each inch of contact sending a shiver through you that you tried to ignore.
Jude’s hand dropped back to the table, and for a moment, you thought he might finally let it go. But when you laughed again and casually complimented your friend with a teasing remark—something along the lines of, “You always look so good, I do not understand why are you still single,”— Jude’s expression darkened, his breath hitching slightly. He choked on his drink, fingers gripping the glass so tightly you half-expected it to shatter. You could practically feel the heat radiating from him, his control slipping just a little more with every word.
You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh. He set his glass down hard, his voice a rough whisper. “May I remind you that you are not the one who’s single?” he asked, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint.
You raised a brow, unfazed, and turned back to your friend. “Am I pushing it?” you murmured, more to yourself than to him, a sly smile playing on your lips. But just as you were about to rest your hand on your friend’s arm for the fifteenth time that night, you felt Jude’s hand slip over yours—this time grasping your wrist, his fingers rough and insistent, stopping you before you could touch another man.
“Do not, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice like steel, laced with something electric that sent a thrill up your spine.
Without a word, you twisted your hand free and crossed your legs again, your knee brushing his leg as you did. His fingers found your wrist again, pulling you closer this time, his lips near your ear as he muttered, “You think this is a game?”
The heat of his breath against your skin made your heart race, and you felt your pulse quicken as he held your gaze, daring you to keep this up. His fingers lingered on your wrist, and for a second, you wondered if he might actually kiss you right there, just to make his point, in front of everyone, as if he didn’t care who was watching.
God you wanted that. Like, a lot.
At last, as the evening wound down and you both stood to say goodbye, Jude didn’t let you slip away. His hand slid possessively around your waist, holding you close as you say goodbye to the group, his grip firm, almost punishing. Once outside, he pulled you aside, finally away from the prying eyes of your friends.
Without a word, Jude pushed you gently against the side of the car, his eyes blazing with frustration, anger, and something else you couldn’t quite name. He stepped in close, his hands framing your waist, pressing you against the cool metal. His breath brushed against your neck, his voice a low, dangerous murmur.
“You think this was funny?” he asked, his fingers pressing into your hips, his gaze intense, unyielding.
You lifted your chin, holding his stare. “No,” you whispered, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “I thought it was fair.”
Jude’s eyes darkened, and his grip tightened, his hands possessive, nearly desperate, as he pulled you even closer. The air between you was charged, tense, and thick with unspoken words. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against you, the warmth of his hands sending shivers through you.
��You’re being…,” you started, trying to keep a teasing smile in check, though your amusement slipped through. His anger was palpable; he glared at you with narrowed eyes, locking onto you with an intensity that was thrilling, even a little dangerous.
“Mmm, what was it?” you asked, pretending to struggle to remember the exact word that had lit the fuse in this absurd, yet undeniably thrilling standoff. You paused for effect, watching the way his jaw tightened. “Oh, right—dramatic.”
You knew that would push him right over the edge, and sure enough, he leaned in, his expression hardening as his gaze burned right into yours. You could almost feel the warmth of his breath, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you, as if he were drawing you into his orbit. He hadn’t even said a word yet, but somehow, he had you on edge, just as he always did, effortlessly.
“But you know,” you added with a smirk, leaning up on tiptoe to press a playful kiss on his heated cheek, “I think it suits you.”
Then, with all the nonchalance you could muster, you turned on your heel, heading for the passenger seat as though nothing had happened. For a moment, he didn’t move; you could practically feel his stare following you. But then, before you could even open the door, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him, right back into that same charged position, his grip firm but unmistakably possessive. And despite yourself, you couldn’t help but let a thrill run down your spine.
“You have no idea what you just started,” he murmured, his voice thick with a dangerous promise, his lips hovering just inches from yours.
And as you looked up at him, feeling the heat, the thrill, and the tension swirl between you, you realized you didn’t regret a single thing.
Jude’s smirk deepened as he held you there, his grip possessive and firm, his gaze dark with intent. You could feel every inch of space crackling with tension, every breath laced with challenge and defiance. He wasn't letting you go, not after what you'd just put him through. And part of you didn't want him to.
“You think this is a joke,” he muttered smirking, his voice low and edged with a dangerous sort of amusement. His fingers traced along your arm, each touch purposeful, as if to prove just how much control he still held. You raised your chin, meeting his gaze with equal defiance, a small smile on your lips.
“I think it is a taste of your own medicine,” you replied, your voice soft but unyielding. He leaned in, his lips so close they brushed against yours as he spoke, sending a shiver straight through you. He couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you.
“You’re going to regret this,” he murmured, his words a promise as his thumb skimmed along your jaw, tipping your face up to meet his.
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joocomics · 1 day ago
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ಬ be quiet (or not)
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pairing: non-idol!ten x fem!reader
genre: smut — mdni! wc: 953
contains: university au, sub!reader, usage of toys (vibrator), exhibitionism kink, dirty talk, light humiliation kink
[ wayv masterlist | general masterlist ]
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“I will move my hand now,” Ten warns you, but his low voice with an evident sneering tone makes it sound more like a command than anything else; a command he knows you’d suck at following.
It sounds like I want to see you try and fail.
His bold eyes peer into yours in attempt to read your answer in the way they are glazed over with arousal. It’s a small plaything that’s working between your legs, but with a strong impact on your whole body, causing your gaze to be constantly refocusing on the view in front of you, more specifically on him from different angles as you’re locked inside the bathroom.
“You probably know how to keep quiet since you brought this little thing with you.” Ten’s hand retrieves and he cannot help but grin when he catches you desperately tucking your lip between your teeth to avoid making a sound the second he uncovers your mouth. “C’mon, tell me… Why do you have this in your bag anyway?”
The same warmth that overflowed your body when you ran into him on the stairs earlier spreads beneath your skin once again. How come you forget to zip up your bag once and out of all things you keep inside your vibrator is what falls out of it? And out of all people in this building he’s the one to witness it?
However, the feeling of indignity you suffered from in that particular situation which led to this present moment lingers differently now… and you’re enjoying it rather than wanting to escape from it.
“It’s just…” you speak up quietly, “I’ve been feeling stressed out lately.”
“So you hide and touch yourself in public?” His eyes widen with a sparkling glow, the same way they did when he picked up your toy to observe it up close. It’s a discreet size, but there was no way he could ignore it while helping you gather your stuff.
“I—“ you gulp after an unsuccessful attempt to respond. The effects of the vibrations are causing moans to rise into your throat. “I’ve never done it h-here. Just in my car.”
You look at Ten with more concentration after his finger lifts your chin higher. He’s attractive, he really is. Especially when he’s smirking at you condescendingly like that and you can’t do anything except anticipate his next move or his next teasing question.
The son of the dean of this university… If you could turn back time to tell your past self that one day you’re going to find yourself hidden in the campus bathroom with him while everyone else is in class you wouldn’t believe yourself.
“No, I get it, baby,” Ten nods as a gesture of rapport. “It’s exam season, that’s always stressful, isn’t it?” The artificial concern drips from his voice, erotic and tempting in a way you cannot describe.
The small space of the cubicle is making you both feel hotter and you can sense sweat growing on your neck as the buzzing sensation starts to burn in your core.
You move the vibrating head in a slow circle, doubling the pressure on your clit by pressing harder.
“I’m close—“ You whisper the same moment Ten leans in with a hand against the wall behind you where your figure is quivering from the approaching high.
His gaze lowers all the way down to your panties stretched from your ankles. They have a dark spot, a result from the few minutes you spent making out before he turned on your personal toy.
“I think I’m gonna keep those.” He says as you pant into his face; his expression changes into something completely new once your free hand grasps on his hoodie. He swallows the reckless urge forming inside him at the same pace as his erection throbs - stimulated even further from the pretty way you’re breaking down for his eyes only. “I want to make sure that you’re really gonna come over at my place tonight.”
A high pitched sound echoes throughout the tiled walls, but there was no time to prevent it as Ten’s fingers slip inside you without a warning, eager to speed up the process of reaching your climax, but also unable to stop wondering how you feel down there.
“Fuck—“ he mutters in one breath, guiding his lips against yours, but without actually touching them, “you’re perfect for my cock, pretty.”
“I will—“ you mewl in a delayed response while quickening the circles on your sensitive point. Your eyes are squeezed shut as your tummy tightens from the gliding movements that excite your walls with each rub.
“Good.” Ten chuckles amused by your reactions, by your neediness, before his voice turns firm again. “I’m gonna teach you how to actually keep quiet. A perverted girl like you needs a lesson or two.”
You’re unsure if it was just a coincidence or if his words were what pushed you over the edge, but seconds later, you cum around his curled fingers, making him snicker again; this time with your efforts to endure the sensation as calmly as possible which were quite pathetic.
“Tsk, almost got us caught.” He grabs your face with a quick domineering grip almost as if he wants to look at you carefully one more time so he can make sure he has all its details memorised.
Fortunately, the rush washed over you just in time for him to go.
In eight minutes lectures will start coming to an end, and as the son of the dean, he wants to save himself the trouble of being seen leaving the women’s bathroom with a boner and a pair of panties in the back pocket of his jeans.
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! please do not repost, copy or translate my works
! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed
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bunnysdollette · 3 days ago
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˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁ How I manifested my desired appearance + More Confidence with social anxiety 🐆🎀
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⟢ hey dolls! today I wanted to share how I became more confident and manifested my desired appearance!! let’s get right into it! also if you guys are interested, my inbox is open! love ya guys ♡ ♡
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MANIFESTING MY DESIRED APPEARANCE
dolls, I recently had a breakthrough. manifesting is actually so easy.
I’m here to remind you all that you don’t have to do anything extra with your manifestation. I manifested so many things just by believing in the law. Literally the second you decide something is yours, ITS YOURS. no bullshit, no ten thousand methods, that’s the secret formula.
Additionally, when people say “living in the end” they really mean living in the end. Really START living in the end. It’s not your face claim, it’s you. You aren’t trying to manifest, you have manifested.
Start being delusional babe, relying on confirmation from the 3D WILL GET YOU NOWHERE. The work is done. The proof is here. Just relax and let your desires start to grow in front of your eyes.
Some of the ways I manifest my dream appearance:
♡ everytime I looked in the mirror, I would recite affirmations about my desired features like “my nose is so cute and upturned, my skin is so clear and glowing.” here’s my recent affirmations on a living angel appearance 🕯️
♡ whenever I felt like my manifestation wasn’t going anywhere/fixating on the 3D, I would affirm and affirm and affirm. if you’re an anxious manifestor like me, affirmations are literally your best friend.
♡ consuming the RIGHT manifestation content and simply ignoring advice I disagreed with. this is my domain
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CONFIDENCE 101: BOOSTING SELF CONCEPT
what is self concept? self concept is the set of beliefs you have about yourself, the way you think about yourself. low self concept = insecure, awkward, not very secure in oneself. high self concept = confident, self-assured. I used to have a low self concept
it’s important to realize that if your self concept is low, you can literally create a new identity and version of yourself at any time. if you want to become more confident and focused, then become that person. visualize that person. create a vision board of the vibe that person gives off.
think about how you can BECOME that person, and embody that emotion as much as possible till it sticks.I used to be so incredibly anxious and insecure I would overthink about my eating habits, the way I walked, talked, smiled, everything.
you have to drill this into your head that nobody cares and they’re actually too focused on their own lives to worry about you. and if they do, it’s usually only for a few seconds before moving on with their lives.
YOU owe it to yourself to become better. It is possible. Let’s do it.
ways I boosted my self concept:
♡ remind myself I CAN have more: liz explains this really well in her video here (still one of my faves from her till this day)
♡ shadow work: I would review difficult memories and kind of like detangle it, and I would learn more about myself from doing shadow work questions. definitely good for self healing
♡ persisting in the belief I was beautiful, confident and magnetic. Literally affirm 24/7
♡ be patient. confidence doesn’t happen overnight especially if u are a socially anxious and was insecure person like me.
⟢ and that’s mainly all I have for today angels! hope everyone found some part of this helpful, I’ve been trying to fix my format over these last few posts it’s kinda messy, thoughts? other than that stay cute, and I’ll post again soon. mwah 💋
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constantnbpreg · 2 days ago
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Think of a scenario that could be improved by being very pregnant~
of course there’s the classics like driving or going to a restaurant but a scenario i love thinking about that would be amazing to do while very pregnant is grocery shopping as silly as it sounds
i like to imagine myself my twins. gotta go to the grocery store weekly which means regulars who come the same time and day I do and the same employees get to see me get more and more pregnant each week. and because it’s twins, i’m getting big quickly. at first no one would notice anything of course. the small curve of my previously flat tummy is easily hidden by my shirts, barely pressing into my pants yet. just my little secret.
but every week starting after the day my pants stop buttoning though? oh that’s when the changes really start. as my tummy starts to really round out and become a proper belly i notice things. i notice how it’s getting harder to reach for things on top shelves without my belly getting in the way. the day i stretch to try and grab a can, my belly knocks over a bunch of products on one of the lower shelves and i am so embarrassed and lean i have to reach sideways now to not risk that happening again.
i think about me, standing in an aisle trying to find something and rubbing my belly as I do so. hand resting on the curve of it as i peer over my choices. maybe i’m looking at something i’m craving, not on the list but im sooooo hungry. the babies do nothing but kick me and demand me to eat it feels like. and by the way my thighs stretch my maternity pants and my new love handles, you can tell how all those cravings have been adding up.
all the walking i do up and down the aisles is when i start to notice im beginning to waddle a bit. my belly getting so big and heavy on my widening hips. i can feel how the added baby weight makes my ass and thighs jiggle as i move in a way they’ve never done before. it’s clear from my cart that gets more and more items for all my cravings how i got those soft new curves and as the babies get heavier, the harder it is to try and complete my grocery trip. the babies that my partner did such a good job fucking into me take after them in size which means they are biiiiig. and they’re only getting bigger from that point on. they sit heavy against my pelvis, and curve my back so much that it makes me groan.
the space between me and the cart too is nearly non existent at this point too, it just swells so much in front of me that i fear what i’ll do if i can’t reach past it. before i got pregnant i used to always use self checkout, but that’s nearly impossible for me now, trying to maneuver all those items by myself is too exhausting. so instead i squeeze me and my wide hips into a register line. i try and not just how much my hips have grown and spread but it’s hard to when i see how much they fill the small space. i pray i don’t get stuck by the end of this pregnancy, but by how these babies are growing, i better not test my luck.
the cashier would smile at me and like many of the customers i’ve passed, they’d ask me when i was due because it had to be soon right? i tell them i still got three months left and it’s big twins and i see the shock on their face because im just so gravid.
still by my due date, i’m still attempting those trips. my partner helps me though because i have to have one hand holding the underside of my baby filled belly and one supporting my poor back. no way to man a cart groaning as i make my slow way beside them and panting but smiling all the same. my clothes barely fit too, belly hanging out and ass near bursting through the seams of my pants. customers and employees stare at me as we pass, wondering how could be just so big and fertile. wondering why i would still be up and moving when it’s obvious how uncomfortable i am. and they’re right, i am but god it feels so good still being this pregnant and out.
and as we walk and chat about the babies and what to eat for dinner, i lovingly rub my belly thinking about how i’m so excited to do this all over again
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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 2 days ago
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Pretty As Picture - Chapter 11
Marvel
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes
Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.
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Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.
Warnings will be per chapter.
For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.
Chapter Summary: Nothing makes sense.
“I just don’t get it Clint.”
“We’ll figure it out Y/N, same as we always do. The same as you always do.”
You sniffed and nodded as Natasha and Bruce gave up with their loitering and entered the room.
“Hey” Natasha said softly. Bruce squeezed your arm and smiled warmly as he started to check the monitors you were attached to as he glanced at the Stark Pad in his hand. Nat slotted herself beside Clint and pushed the hair from your face, mopping your tears with her sleeve.
“Here.” Steve interrupted passing her a handkerchief.
“How 1940s of you Rogers.” She said sarcastically as she used it to dab at your tears. “You gave us quite the scare sweetie.”
You mumbled sorry as you fought back tears and tried to push down the lump in your throat.
“How are you feeling?” She asked.
“Like I’ve taken on fifty hostiles, been shot at, stabbed and blown up and walked hundreds of miles.”
“Well” Clint started “it’s no wonder you slept for three days.”
You glanced at Bruce as a memory popped into your head.
“Did I ask you to knock me out?”
“You did. Only Doctor Cho and I worked on you. Any samples were destroyed. You don’t need to worry.”
You side-eyed Steve and Bucky and glanced back at Natasha and Clint. They both shook their heads.
“They’re not stupid though Y/N. Even if they do look it right now, with the whole lost puppy look.”
You looked up at them both and they smiled in return, Bucky brushing the stray tears from his face. You felt a pull as you looked between them both. A fluttering in your chest that spread through your body. You felt your cheeks flush as they returned your gaze and you looked away quickly and back at Nathaniel in your arms.
“When did you get here?” You asked Clint.
“An hour or two after you did. We were on a call to the others when word came in you were MIA.”
“Word from who?”
“Maria.”
“Oh fuck, I tried to hit her didn’t I?”
“You did.”
You huffed. You were going to have to apologise which you hated doing, but you respected Maria, and this wasn’t entirely her fault.
“And before you say it” Nat said interrupting your thoughts “you don’t need to apologise to her. She knows she had it coming. I know your cute British manners will struggle with that but let it go. For now at least.”
You huffed again.
“Nat, can you book me out on the system for a few days.”
“I’ve already done it and you’re taking a month off and don’t argue.”
You scowled. Before you had a chance to start a debate with her Bruce appeared at your side.
“You suffered catastrophic injuries Y/N. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a week. We had to rebreak some of your bones, you were in the cradle for a day and a half. Your suit was keeping you together. Even with your accelerated healing, it’s gonna take a while. Any normal person would be dead.”
“Good job you’re not normal hey kid.” Clint joked, trying to lighten the mood. You rolled your eyes in response and shook your head in amusement.
“But she’s gonna recover right?” Steve asked, having been silent throughout your exchange with the others.
“As long as she gives her body chance to heal, she’ll be fine.” Bruce replied.
“Which means you have to let us take care of you.” Nat added.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Hey” Steve said, pulling your attention to him as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed “even I have to take a break sometimes, whilst things stitch themselves back together.”
“Yeah, well my serums probably a knock off version of yours so?” you shrugged.
“Then you and I have that in common.” Bucky added, joining the conversation.
“This still doesn't make any sense”
“Sweetheart, when I came out the ice I had no-one and then I got these guys.” Steve replied. You pulled a face.
“I know, I know and we’ve had some ups and downs. Aliens came out the sky, Shield fell, I found out Bucky was alive, Ultron and that’s just the tip of the iceberg, and if I’ve learnt anything since I came off the ice it’s that plenty of things don’t make sense, not logically anyway and yet somehow they do.” He said glancing around the room at his soul family.
“I’m not sure I’m who you think I am though.”
“You are doll, I know it and I know you feel it too.” Bucky replied. You went to look away but Bucky stopped you cupping your face with his metal hand gently tilted your head to look at him. “Look me in the eyes and say you don’t feel this.”
Your eyes welled up. You couldn’t. The pull, the tether that connected you was clear and firm and there was no denying it.
“I can’t.”
Bucky leant forward and kissed you on the forehead. You let out a shuddered breath. He released you as Steve moved to cup your face and kiss you on the cheek.
“Hang on Romeo, aren't you Peggy Carter’s……..” you stopped midsentence as you zoned out, a memory jumping into your brain.
You’d met Peggy Carter, albeit briefly. She’d retired, rumours of her health were rife but she still consulted here and there. A shock reappearance of some Nazi war criminals in London had led her to MI5. She passed by your desk and you’d immediately felt her eyes on you. Thirty minutes later you were in the meeting she was co-chairing, with you being told your presence was requested as the Analyst that had found them. When you’d entered the room Peggy looked like she’d seen a ghost. You gasped in realisation.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Steve asked. His eyes widened as the monitors you were attached to started to beep furiously.
“Sweetie what is it?” Natasha asked, stroking your arm.
“I met her. I met Peggy and she, she looked at me, she thought she knew me. Do I look like I did then? Like your soulmate did then? Did I know Peggy?” you asked, your voice panicked and full of emotion. Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance and nodded.
“How? How old am I? Bruce! How old am I?” You asked clearly agitated.
“As far as we know you’re the age you think you are. If you weren’t your routine testing would have flagged it.”
“Run it again.”
“Y/N.”
“Run it again, and ask Cho and Stark to look at it too.”
“Kid, I know that analytic brain of yours is trying to process right now but you need to slowdown and take a minute. We’ll figure it out.” Clint said, trying to reassure you.
“You say we'll figure out, and yet stars and stripes over here says it doesn't have to make sense, so which is it? I need to get out of this bed.” You went to move and there was a rush to stop you, as panicked voices filled your ears.
“You’ll stay put and hold your godson. That’s the first time he’s been settled in days. Keep your ass in that bed.”
You huffed and scowled in frustration but stayed put. Steve exchanged a knowing glance at Clint. You were as stubborn as you’d been before but you clearly adored Nathanial and had no intention of waking a sleeping baby.
“It still doesn’t make sense. Are you sure?” You turned your frown towards Bucky and Steve, narrowing your eyes at them. Steve watched as Clint shook his head in frustration, and Nat rolled her eyes. Bruce stayed quiet but his glance over his glasses at you said it all. You weren’t going to just accept this, you were stubborn but you also needed facts.
“You said you felt it. That you feel this.” Bucky said, gesturing between you both.
“I, I don’t know what to say. It doesn’t make sense. You were born then, you're from back then and I'm now. I'm from now.” you rambled.
Steve stood and reached into his pocket and pulled out his compass. You followed his movements and watched as he removed the picture of Peggy Carter. There behind it was a clear, although old, photo. Steve held the compass out to you and you took it with your free hand. Instead of Peggy Carter, you found yourself looking back at you. You let out a shuddered breath and in a grief stricken voice spoke one word.
“How?”
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straightforpotter · 16 hours ago
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So I’ve started writing a fic where it’s going to follow James and regulus falling in love but only there nights in the astronomy tower, I don’t know if I’m going to upload it to ao3 yet so I thought I’d test it out here first, also I haven’t edited it or anything to if there’s spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes or anything no there isn’t, here’s the first chapter
Regulus sat on the ledge in the astronomy tower with his feet dangling over the edge, he was content here, he always felt content when looking at the stars.
He found Sirius first, he always found Sirius first, he knew the sky like the back of his hand and he knew exactly where to find Sirius. He took a deep breath in, held it and released it, his brother always brought up a range of different emotions staring at sadness all the way to a full rage and he didn’t have the energy to deal with that tonight.
He was just about to take another breath when he heard to door open, he held his breath begging it to be someone at least slightly tolerable but he didn’t have such luck because none other than James potter walked through the door.
“Oh sorry I didn’t realise anyone was up here” James smiled sheepishly
“Clearly” Regulus scowled
James walked further in and sat down beside Regulus
“What are you doing?” Regulus snapped
“I’m sitting,” James replied with a grin that could brighten the whole world
Looking at James felt the same as looking directly at the sun, it was beautiful and you wanted to look but look for to long and you damage your eyes, Regulus wasn’t about to let himself be any more damaged than he already was.
“Why?” Asked Regulus
“Well I came up here to look at the stars and the best way to look at them is to sit here” James’ smile never faulted, it stuck like a piece of gum at the bottom of your shoe but that was James potter wasn’t it, a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, you can never seem to get rid of him.
“Ok well be quiet” Regulus sighed in defeat
“That I can do” James replied
They sat in silence for about fifteen minutes before James started tapping his foot against the wall below them
“Potter” Regulus snapped
“I thought you wanted silence” James smirked
“It’s a bit hard to have silence when your foot won’t stop banging on the wall” Regulus snarled
“Oh right, sorry: James replied sheepishly
They sat in silence for another twenty minutes before James started tapping his hand on the metal railing in front of them
“Potter I swear to Salazar” Regulus fumed
“What am I doing now” James whined
“The tapping, stop it” Regulus spat
James stopped and they sat in silence for the next ten minutes before James started humming
“Potter!” Regulus yelled
“Are you obsessed with me or something” James laughed
Regulus groaned and put his head in his hands
“You really are insufferable, do you know that?” Regulus groaned
James merely smiled that dazzling smile of his and jumped up onto the ledge
“What are you doing” Regulus asked
“Come up here with me” James responded
“No thanks I don’t have a death wish” Regulus drawled
James jumped back down and did a little spin, it took every inch of Regulus self control not to laugh, he was not about to give James potter the satisfaction of making him laugh.
“Dance with me Regulus” James whispered
“Are you insane, what single part of this interaction has made you think I’d dance with you” Regulus uttered.
James then continued to dance around the astronomy tower, he was flailing all his limbs around without a care in the world, he looked a bit like a spider with all his limbs moving so fast it looked like there were double.
Before Regulus could help it a giggle bubbled up out of him, he slapped his hand over his mouth to hide it but the damage was done, James had heard it and he stood staring at Regulus with an awestruck expression on his face.
“Do it again,” James begged
“Not if my life depended on it” Regulus bit back before standing and storming out of the astronomy tower and back to bed.
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sinnabarmoth · 22 hours ago
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Trusting You
Pairing: Rafayel x fem|Reader
Summary: Reader is bisexual but hasn't come out to anyone before. She decides that she's going to tell her boyfriend Rafayel first.
Content warnings: None
Length: 1k
~~~
You felt like throwing up. Which probably wasn’t a good sign. Then again, you had felt nauseous the other times you tried to do this. This would make your third attempt at coming out to your boyfriend.
You knew from an early age that you liked boys and a little later on you started to figure out girls were pretty too. Was your first crush on that mermaid princess in your one storybook? Yes. Was there a girl in your primary school that you had developed a crush on and didn’t know how to deal with it so you avoided her at all costs instead? Yes. Have you told anyone that you are bisexual? No.
It wasn’t that you were ashamed of who you were or anything, and you really had nothing to fear living in Linkon and being queer. But the fact remained that you were scared that coming out would change things between you and the people you cared about. You didn’t want things to change. Life was going pretty well. You were doing well at work, you had great friends, and your boyfriend Rafayel was the literal sweetest.
But as time stretched on you felt the weight of your hidden sexuality bearing down on you. So, you had decided that you had enough of living in the closet. You were going to come out and be proud of who you were and to hell with anyone that treated you differently because of it. Out of everyone you thought of telling you decided that you wanted to tell Rafayel first.
It wasn’t because you had found some hot new girlfriend to run off with but you trusted him. Rafayel had never shied away from being supportive of the queer community and had even done a charity auction of some of his exclusive pieces to raise money for trans youth. So you knew you had nothing to fear, but getting the actual words out was proving harder than expected.
You had tried once while over dinner and chickened out. You tried again at the charity auction but again couldn’t say it. Now you were at home with Rafayel, the two of you watching a movie. You weren’t sure why you decided this was when you wanted to try telling him again. Maybe because it was so normal. There was no pressure in this instant.
You kept glancing at him, unable to focus on the screen. It’s was just three little words. “I am bisexual.” That’s all you had to say and it would finally be out there and you wouldn’t have to carry around this secret anymore. At least not around Raf.
Your head was on his shoulder, a blanket draped across your laps. His arm around you was tracing soothing circles across your skin. You focused on the motion, taking even slow breaths to calm yourself.
In and out. In…and out… You could do this. Three little words.
“Raf,” you forced the words out, “Can I tell you something?”
“You know you can tell me anything.” he turned his attention away from the tv. “What is it?”
“I just…I um…” and there your tongue went to lead again.
His brow furrowed as he saw the sentence stuck in your throat. He quickly paused the movie and pulled you closer. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine, I just…” you took a deep breath and screwed your eyes shut. “I’m bisexual.”
There was silence. Followed by a soft. “Oh.”
“And I’m not saying this for any particular reason! I promise.” your hands fisted the blanket, your eyes still shut tight. “I really do love you and only you but I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time now but every time I tried I kept getting nervous and not doing it. And I don’t want this to change anything with us. Really I don’t. And if you need a minute to think about this--”
“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Rafayel put a finger to your lips, “Calm down. You’re gonna run out of air talking that fast.”
You peeked your eyes open. “Sorry.”
“No. You don’t need to apologize. I have no problem with you being bisexual, I’m happy that you told me.” he said giving you a reassuring smile. “And I’m sorry if I made you think that you couldn’t come out to me sooner.”
“It isn’t you. I know you wouldn’t have cared it’s just…” you took another breath and gathered your thoughts, “I haven’t told anyone about it. Ever. Not any of my friends or family. I’ve known for years but I always felt weird when I thought of bringing it up.”
“Cause you didn’t want things to change.” He said.
You nodded. “But I’ve been in the closet for so long and I was getting sick of it. And I knew I could trust you to not freak out about it.”
“I get it. I’m proud of you though. And I love you, exactly as you are.” he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And whether you want to tell others in the future or if this is just between us right now that is fine. We’re gonna go at your pace, but I know everyone else will still love and cherish you no matter who you are capable of falling in love with.”
You melted against him, endorphins rushing through your blood and filling your mind with warmth as you finally truly relaxed for the first time in years. That weight that had been dragging you down for years finally being lifted to let you have this moment of acceptance and peace.
“Thanks.” you whispered. “I really needed to hear that.”
There was a moment of silence as you let yourself calm back down. Then Rafayel chuckled. You looked up at him. “What?”
“I can’t lie, my first reaction when you came out was, ‘Hi bisexual. I’m Rafayel.’” he said with a teasing smile.
You grabbed the pillow and whacked him with a laugh and roll of your eyes. “You are so lucky I love you, you dork.”
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usomads · 2 days ago
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Finisher // Roman Reigns x Reader (Pin Me Pt. 2)
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Author’s Note -> Hiiii everyone! So many of you requested a part two to Pin Me, which again thank you so much for all the love on the first part. I honestly didn’t think of making it multiple parts when I first wrote this, but here we are and here it is lol! Happy reading!
Plot -> After pinning the Smackdown Women’s Champion in your mixed tag-team match with Roman Reigns, you gained popularity and with that your first singles title opportunity. You’ve never been more nervous for anything in your life, so your Tribal Chief helps ease your nerves before your match…
Pairings -> Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader (Y/N)
Warnings -> Cursing, Oral Sex (Fem!Receiving), Fingering, Gagging, Implied Smut, Not Proofread, MDNI
Word Count -> 3.0k
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(time skip to the first Smackdown episode after Saturday Night’s Main Event)
“I’ve been your Smackdown Women’s Champion for nearly five months now, and since becoming your champion I have proved that I am the irresistible force and nobody can take this title from me. Not Bayley, not Naomi, not Tiffany, and esp-” Nia’s promo was cut short by your entrance music hitting, the crowd rising to their feet and popping loudly for your theme. Since pinning Nia at Saturday Night’s Main Event, you had taken the WWE Universe by storm; your social media following went up, more and more people were recognizing you in public, you had gotten exactly the recognition you wanted all along- and it was all thanks to Roman Reigns.
Since last Saturday and your “celebration” post-match, you’ve grown closer to Joe. You were getting to know each other better, spending more time together, and what you initially thought was a one-time thing in the heat of the moment was clearly not. Joe got his hands on you every chance he could, it didn’t matter where or when, if he wanted you he was going to have you. And who were you to turn down your Tribal Chief? 
Now, you two hadn’t defined your “relationship” just yet but you both were perfectly fine with the way things were at the moment- taking things slow and really getting to know each other (among other things) before making anything official. You were doing pretty well for yourself; you were gaining more traction than before and you had a fine ass man to go home to- you had zero complaints with how your life and career were going at the moment.
You emerged from backstage, microphone in hand, as the crowd roared at your entrance. You signaled for production to cut your music, walking confidently to the ring as you spoke. “Now, Nia, I know damn well you didn’t come in the ring to talk all this mess about ‘no one can beat me’ after last week… did you hit your head too hard during our match or something because I,” you paused, signaling to the crowd filling the arena, “as well as the entire WWE universe remember very clearly that I pinned you last week at Main Event.” The crowd cheered in response, boosting your already high confidence as you smirked at Nia. “If you’re soooo confident you can beat me one-on-one, then do it. Put your title on the line next week and let’s see how much of a ‘force’ you really are.”
“Oh, Y/N…” Nia mocked you, “it’s so adorable that you think you’re a threat to me and my title. That win you got last week, pinning me? Was pure luck.” Nia stepped to you, with little distance between you too as she glared down at you, “But unlike you, at least I don’t have to sleep with anyone to get my main event spots, I work hard for what I have. Do that first, then come talk to me.” That wasn’t in the fucking script, is she serious right now? Oh, if she wants to improv, best believe I can too. You swung without thinking twice, using the microphone in your hand to hit her on the side of the head. It was time for a fight. 
You and Nia took turns trying to go at each other, both of you countering the other until she blindsided you out of nowhere with a hit that made you see double for a second. You knew you were done after that, feeling blood trickle from a cut on your head created by her. She continued to attack you while you were down, the crowd booing with every hit she delivered. After your body had slumped in the center of the ring she grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up, showing your beaten and bloody face to the crowd and cameras. “This isn’t fantasy, Y/N, stop playing pretend with Roman and go back to catering where you fucking belong.” She threw your head back onto the mat and exited the ring as security and medical personnel rushed to the ring. You dragged your fatigued body out of the ring and backstage, refusing treatment from medical despite their protests. You walked into the locker room Joe and you now shared, while Joe was screaming at someone on the phone.
“Nick, are you fucking kidding me? There’s gotta be some form of punish- I don’t give a shit what the higher ups thought about it, she could’ve seriously injured Y/N, I-,” Joe paused, turning around and seeing you enter the locker room, “I gotta go. This conversation isn’t over.” Joe hung up on the GM and rushed over to you. “Baby, are you okay? Did she hurt you? Have you gotten looked at by-”
“No, Joe, and I’m not going to. Just please, drop it. I’m over it.”
“Well, I’m not. Why the fuck would she even say something like that? How would she have known about us?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know, Joe! Now leave it alone, seriously, I’m not in the goddamn mood.” You went silent, thinking about what you were going to do about Nia. You needed to do something different, something she would never see coming. Your priorities shifted completely after that segment, you now no longer wanted just the title. Your biggest priority, maybe even more than wanting the belt, was to beat the shit outta Nia Jax, no matter what it took.
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“Babe, c’mon, you need to sit down. You’re gonna stress yourself into a heart attack if you don’t quit pacing around the room like that,” Joe was currently attempting to calm you down, you had been completely fine this past week you were training and promoting the match, but now that the show had officially started your overwhelming amount of confidence had completely vanished.
“Easy for you to say, title matches are second nature to you. Muscle memory. I  have never competed for a title before, I have every right to be freaking the fuck out right now, Joe,” you sighed. “It feels like everything just did a 180 degree turn, like I have so many eyes on me now and they all want me to beat Nia’s ass, and I just don’t know if I-”
“Hey, none of that. Y/N, look at me,” you slowly brought your head up to meet his eyes, the same ones that completely captivated your being just a couple weeks ago. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. That crowd out there knows exactly what you’re capable of, you know what you’re capable of, and I know what you’re capable of. I believe in you, baby, and if you can’t find it in you to believe in yourself then I’ll believe enough for the both of us. You got this, Y/N, I know you do.” Your heart melted at his words, the soothing and reassuring tone in his voice providing you some much needed comfort. 
“You still nervous, baby?” You nodded your head, looking down at your lap as he scooted closer to you on the couch. “I think I have an idea on how we can fix that. Do you trust me?”
“A-always, Joe.”
“Good girl.” He lifts your chin with his finger and passionately presses his lips to yours, resting his palm on the side of your face as you moan into the kiss. Your stomach flutters at his soft demeanor, feeling some of your nerves dissipate as his lips caress yours. He lays you down on the couch, hovering over you as he deepens the kiss. Breathless, he pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours and looking lovingly into your eyes. “You still feelin’ nervous, baby?”
“Y-yeah,” you breathed out, “a little less, but still pretty nervous.”
“I guess I’ll have to keep going then, don’t I?” His lips find their way back to yours, resting there for a moment before trailing along your jawbone and down your neck, leaving a few wet kisses at the base of your throat before continuing his path downward. Your breathing had picked up, and you were now looking down at him as his lips left a trail down your abdomen.
“A-are you sure we should… now? I mean, I have my match later and I-”
“Shhh, I promise I’ll be quick. Just wanna take care of you, help my baby out,” he muttered against your hip bone as he teased the lining of your ring gear you had been wearing. You sighed contently, leaning your head back against the arm of the couch and allowing yourself to relax into his touch. His fingers interlock in the lining of your bottoms as he looks up for you, asking for permission to remove them. You lift your hips off the couch, allowing him to slowly drag the material down your legs and throw them to the side. He snakes both hands up your legs, kneading the soft flesh of your thighs before splitting them apart and exposing you to him. Your body was so reactive to him- Joe loved how goosebumps would scatter across your skin at the brush of his lips or how your eyes would flutter closed and your eyebrows would scrunch together with just his touch, but most of all, he loved how how wet he made you without doing a thing to you. 
“Fuck, ma, always so ready for me,” you moaned loudly and bucked your hips, desperate for any sort of friction, “you gon’ have to be quiet for me, don’t want nobody to hear us, right baby?” You nodded and bit your lip, trying to hold in your cries and his fingers danced up the smooth skin of your inner thighs and through your folds, leaning down to make his face level with your core and presses a soft kiss on your clit before wrapping his lips around the swollen bud, nipping and sucking while he continues to drag his fingers along your slit before pushing a finger inside. His thrusts are slow, putting his focus on his mouth as he eats you with a burning intensity. His tongue works itself in ways that set your body on fire, the scruff of his beard along with it only adding to the sensation he’s giving you. The lip you’re biting to keep quiet is nearly drawing blood. You want to cry out, you want to moan his praises loud enough for the crowd inside the arena to hear, but you know you can’t so you continue to restrain yourself despite wanting to do the complete opposite.
He replaces his fingers with his tongue now, pumping it inside of you and using one to pin your hips down and the other to draw slow circles into your clit. This time you can’t help yourself; your clit is so sensitive that the second his fingers brushed it, you were done for. He pauses for a moment to remove his t-shirt he was wearing and you whine from the loss of contact, watching as he morphs the cotton material into a ball and hands it over to you, bringing his hand back down to your clit. “Bite down on this, since you can’t keep yourself quiet, I’ll make you.” You hesitate for a moment and look down at him, his features darkening and giving you a sly smirk before nodding his head. You bring the material to your lips before biting down on it, your senses being completely filled by Joe. He goes back to eating you as you moan into the cloth, the material successfully muffling your cries. Joe’s movements become more and more desperate, moving his tongue and fingers faster as he can sense you’re close. You can’t stop your moans now, saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer to your release. Your legs begin to shake and Joe, noticing you were close, dives his head deeper into your pussy, trapping you with his mouth. Your eyes squeeze shut as you inhale, breathing in his scent and cologne you were using as a gag, triggering your own orgasm. You came on his tongue hard, shaking and moaning into the fabric of his shirt as he laps up your juices like an animal deprived of water. You even your breathing and throw his shirt back at him, the both of you laughing as he crawls on top of you.
“Oh, you wanna throw things at me do you? I might just have to teach you a le-”
Joe was interrupted by someone knocking on the door to his locker room. “Excuse me, Ms. Y/N? It’s almost time for your match, we need to head to Gorilla to finalize some things real quick.” You both sigh, him getting off of you as you put your bottoms back on in a rush. You make a run for the door to hurry and get to your position, but he grabs your arm to stop you. “You still feeling nervous?” You smiled at him and shook your head, going to thank him but getting cut off. “Good luck out there, baby. I’ll be waiting for you in Gorilla for you to show me that new title,” he kisses your cheek and you blush.
“Thank you, Joe, for everything. I mean it, I wouldn’t be doing this without you.” He gives you a soft smile and ushers you out the door, as you prepare yourself for possibly the biggest match of your entire career.
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“Ughhh,” you groaned as Nia dragged you from the center of the ring to the corner, preparing to give you an Annihilator and win this match. From the jump Nia had punished you, much to the crowd’s distaste. It seemed like everybody in the arena had been behind you and you felt it, right up until the bell rang and she started throwing heavy combinations your way. You managed to sneak in a couple pieces of offense but none were convincing enough to give you any sort of edge. Nia got on the ropes, and performed the move. She remained seated on you, trying to get the pin. 1… 2… kick out. You pushed her off of you and sat on your heels, gripping your side. Jesus, my fuckin’ ribs. 
Finally to your feet, you unload on Nia as she laid on the ground. Kicks, punches, springboard moves, you threw the whole arsenal but each pin attempt gave a 1 or 2 count, and never close calls. You knew deep down you were going to have to do something completely insane to get this win, so you start stringing things together to get it done. You start by giving her a drop kick to send her to the outside, following her out, then throwing her into the steel steps. You dragged her by the hair to the announce table, laying her on it as you ran to the ring and climbed to the top rope. You made sure everyone near the table had cleared before crossing your heart and doing a senton, landing on Nia as the table and collapsing along with it. You could tell that Nia was nearly to the breaking point, so you mustered all the energy and strength you could to drag her back into the ring and climbed to the top rope once more. You hit your finisher, but wasn’t satisfied. You wanted no doubts, so you climbed up and hit it again, straddling her shoulders and hooking your arms around her legs. The arena was so loud you could barely hear the ref’s count. 1… 2… 3… ‘Here is your winner, and the NEW… WWE Women’s Champion… Y/N!’
You couldn’t even process what had just happened, all you wanted to do was get the hell out of that ring so you snatched the title from the ref and escaped. You slowed down when you made it to the stage, clutching the title in your arms and looking down at it with tears brimming your eyes. Your knees felt weak, and your heart was beating out of your chest. You did it. You triumphantly raised the title in the air, tears starting to fall as you smiled and took the moment in. After the cameras had cut and you had taken a few pictures with fans, you walked backstage only to be greeted with cheers. You made your way to everyone, getting pictures, hugs, and everything else in between before locking eyes with the man you wanted to see ever since your hand was raised. Joe. You practically ran to him, jumping into his arms and wrapping yours around his neck, hugging him tightly. He spun you around and smiled from ear to ear. 
“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, baby. You had a helluva match out there, I knew you had it in you,” he kissed you sweetly right there, not caring who was watching as you grinned widely. “Now, let’s get you home,” he winked at you, setting you down before whispering low in your ear.
“We’ve got some more celebrating to do tonight.”
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bokunokamijirou · 3 days ago
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SELF SABOTAGE // Denki Kaminari x reader
m.list
synopsis: Denki is pushing everyone away post-war, reader won't let him :)
cw: sadness, hurt/comfort, depression, isolation
inspo: self-sabotage by waterparks!
Ring ring ring
Denki hears his phone buzz as he lifts his head from under the nice warm comforter. He had been sleeping a lot lately, more than usual. He picks up his phone and glances at the screen with half open eyes. It's you, his best friend and significant other.
He's hesitant to answer, but he does.
"Hey my love, are you almost ready for our date today?" your tone is hopeful over the phone. You two haven't gone out on your own in a while, and you miss him.
"Oh... about that..." his voice is groggy and lacking enthusiasm. You brace yourself.
"It's okay Denki, I understand." you try not to sound too disappointed. Your partner hadn't been around you much lately, and you were starting to worry.
At first, you thought maybe it was something you had done. Then, as the weeks went on, you noticed he was isolating from his friends too. Retreating into himself. He was lacking confidence, his usual charisma, and the smile he always wore.
When you ask him about it, he doesn't give you a real answer. He says he's tired.
But he's been 'tired' for a month and a half now.
"We don't have to go on a date, but can I come over? I miss your face." you practically beg.
"If you want, sure" he replies shortly. After you agree to go to his place, he covers himself in his blankets once again.
When you see him, you can't help but feel concerned immediately. His eyes were heavy and his face was pale. He looked exhausted. You think that maybe he was telling the truth, that he was just tired.
But, when you get closer, you see something else in those eyes. It's pain. It's anger. Sadness. You see the swirls of emotions turning through, paired with an emotionless face to hide it all away.
That's when it clicks for you; Denki Kaminari, human sunshine, is depressed. When the war first ended, you were all in shock. But Denki kept his usual jokes cracking where he could. He seemed alright - even when you asked him to make sure he was doing okay. You realize now that he was lying through his teeth.
"Denki..." you whisper as you crawl into bed next to him. You wrap an arm across his chest and face him, laying on your side as he lays on his back, eyes trained on the ceiling.
"Sorry it's kind of dark in here" he mutters.
You shake your head and look at his face. You examine each part of him, pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek. "I don't mind the dark when it's with you."
He cracks a small smile, but it fades quickly. He breathes deeply and you feel his chest rise and fall beneath your arm.
"I love you Denki." you whisper to him, "and I don't care what it is you're carrying, you don't need to do it alone."
"Everything feels so heavy," he says after a beat of silence.
"It doesn't have to be heavy if you let me carry it with you." you smile slightly but keep your eyes locked on his.
"I'm sorry I'm such a mess" he sighs.
"Messes get cleaned up faster in groups, don't you think?" You smile again and close your eyes as you rest your chin against his chest.
"Why don't we call our friends up for a movie night? Being around them could be fun" you suggest.
"... can we make it a pajama party?" he asks, peaking at you from behind his heavy eyes.
"Of course, but you should probably shower first. Don't want them to do you dirty like you did Izuku" you start to giggle, and that breaks him in the best way. He smiles, his first genuine smile in weeks.
"I love you" he breathes.
"I love you more" you press a kiss to his nose.
"I love you most" he smiles again.
“We’ll be okay, I’ve got you” you whisper before pulling him in for a tight hug.
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