#also I’m terrible at putting myself out there
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The janitor just informed me when I was learning his name that he can’t shake my hand because he’s Muslim and can’t shake hands with the opposite gender. Thinking of all the other times I’ve shaken hands with Muslim men and realizing I would have probably never become aware of this cultural difference if I hadn’t been transitioning sexes.
It oddly made me feel better because this morning I was almost crying in the mirror as I put myself together to go to work. I think I drastically underestimate how cis-passing I am. It also feels sucky to have to suck up my insecurities, keep from crying, be a big girl, and go to work despite feeling terrible about myself.
Hammering in on a/the similar/same theme…
Co-workers stopped me from picking up a wooden pallet because I might get splinters and that one of the guys could do it in a moment. Which kinda dumbfounded me since I’ve handled a lot of wooden pallets and done a lot of carpentry before. I had to insist I was okay to do it. I’m not used to being perceived as frail or delicate.
Continuing with my thoughts…
Celebrated a recently made friends’ birthday yesterday with them and another friend. Both of them commented on how soft my skin is. That made me feel very happy.
Some teenage boys at the mall were also trying to make fun of us as they were walking out and we were walking in. They loudly, mockingly exclaimed that we looked like “Suicide Squad” and I was struggling to figure out what the insult part of that was.
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I’m gonna end up deleting so many things in the morning 😅🤦🏾♀️
Buuuutttt…. The bar me and my friend went to we had gone to earlier this year and I had tipsily tried to give the bartender my number 😅 (he was flirting back so ya know, what’s a girl supposed to do?!). Well he was working again tonight and I couldn’t tell if he recognized me or if he was just being weird ??? AND THEN !!!!! Halfway through the night, this girl that I had very very briefly talked to/gone on dates with last summer showed up !!!! And was like a table away from me and my friend???!!! And it wasn’t until way later in the night that we all ended up in the bathroom and she asked what my name was and recognized that we had gone out over a year ago (she also ghosted me) and it was just lowkey weird (especially cause when we all got back to our tables, her friend said something to the girl that was with them and she looked right at me before turning away 🙃) lol I hate it here !!!!!
#mine#text post#if y’all were wondering why I don’t really date 🤷🏾♀️🤷🏾♀️#this is why#also I’m terrible at putting myself out there#sooooo yeah#lol#story time I guess
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inspired by @colap1nto <3 and posting here to hold myself accountable: writevember! attempting to write something every day no matter how much and what it is
i am however inventing stipulations for myself so i cannot weasel my way out of it, which includes a valid definition of “write”:
actively put words into a document in the form of a proper fic!!! too many wip not enough hands!!
poems (actually laughed at me coming up with this but maybe i will go back to my roots)
research/meta/primers
tag stories are permissible IF i actually compile and edit them into a readable document that day
editing to post to ao3 (the optimism) is also valid. it takes me so long
i do have concrete arbitrary deadlines for one and a half fics that i would LOVE to finish and post in november (dewey^2 and [redacted :)]) so i’m hoping this helps!! also, this is secretly just a sticker chart where i get to put down emojis for each fic i worked on and check off boxes but a win is a win
day 1:🪻🐈⬛
day 2: 😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜)
day 3:🫃2️⃣
day 4: 🍎
day 5:🫃2️⃣
day 6: 📑, 💌
day 7:🫃2️⃣ AND ☁️💧. who is she
day 8:🪻🐈⬛
day 9:🫃2️⃣
day 10:🫃2️⃣
day 11:🫃2️⃣ we are on a STREAK and also a countdown 🫡
day 12:🫃2️⃣
day 13:🫃2️⃣
day 14: 📬💍
day 15: 😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜)
day 16:🫃2️⃣
day 17: 🔴 ⚫️,🫃2️⃣
day 18:🪻🐈⬛
day 19:🪻🐈⬛, 😇🤭 (🕒 -> 🕜)
day 20:🫃2️⃣
day 21:🫃2️⃣, 🤫 🪽🃏
day 22:🫃2️⃣
day 23: 💯❕
day 24: 🪢
day 25: 🐛🏮🦋
day 26:🫃2️⃣
day 27:🫃2️⃣
day 28:🫃2️⃣
day 29:🫃2️⃣
day 30:🫃2️⃣
WRITEMBER RECAP: an overall sucess!!!! this was so much fun and really forced me to write even if it was only a little bit every day. like, to the point that i'm debating doing a cute little twelve days of christmas snippet fest. absolutely could not have finished and published dewey^2 p2 without this challenge or posted p3 :)
thirty days of writing
twelve different fics worked on
poems: 1
i have no word count for you sorry i wish i did but it is at least over a few thousand words!!!!
times i wrote for a day past midnight (making it technically the next day) but because i was still awake i counted it for that day: at least 17 if not closer to like. 25
tags i forgot what they mean: one. what the FUCK is 🪢??? OH MY GOD I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THAT IS NEVERMIND
duolingo streak (worked on the same fic in a row): 5
#liv in the replies#guys are you proud of me. i put everything I would normally yap into the tags in the actual post. hashtag growth#i say continuing to yap into the tags. I don’t want to be pessimistic but I AM scared this is occurring during my monthly bout of#productivity and I will face the doldrums and absolute inability to write in 2-4 days lol#also everyone says this next systems course is GARBAGE and terrible and super hard which. okay 💗 yay 💗#I should’ve put “reply to ao3 comments’ as a valid form of writing because the comment box terrifies me but it’s FINE#if you have ever commented on my fic I love you with every unspeakable fiber of my being and there is one comment I feel so guilty about#but it’s because every time I think about it I need to go jump around in circles I can’t fangirl too hard I also cannot find the WORDS#like even typing this out i’m like. anxious butterfly but it’s because I have so much love in my heart#also i am codifying the emojis to fics for Me sorry because I think it’s fun and i’m being secretive for literally no reason.#everyone tell me to get off of here and work on an actual fic. after I have my nik-induced/enabled 2353 breakdown#we hit day five and yes I DID forcibly make myself not work on a completely different fic. i wannnntttt to finishhhhh 🫃^2 2️⃣ so badddd#& this is not a game of ‘work on a different wip every day’ even if i could feasibly do that🫡 good news is i rlly think 3 -> 1 1/2 is done?#update 11/10 (technically 11/11 but it’s fine this is how it normally works) if i write like an unhinged person which is to say at all#bc i have midterms but also really like an unhinged person i MIGHT be able to adhere to my self-imposed deadline for 🫃2️⃣. god bless me#at 1:30AM yesterday having an absolute breakthrough with a line that has been in some variation in so many different fics including mine#for myself specifically because i keep having this moment: 🪢 is the fic in the bottom of the yowling doc lmao.
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Last post before I crash and no-one hears from me until I return from my first final the morrow’s eve (a changed man no doubt) but there’ll never be anything funnier to me than consistently being viewed as a composed and calm saviour by peers while I’m, actively and uncontrollably losing it.
#not said sarcastically or as a vent by the way I genuinely find it so terribly amusing. you think I have it together ? aw <3 you fool.#i’ve been pacing around my room like a starving lion since the past week in whatever free time i’ve had.#and i keep getting people in my messages begging me for last minute help ? which is endearing but. i’m hanging on for dear life myself#helping isn’t foreign to me; i have 4 (?) people in my class who almost exclusively refer to me as ma’am and even refer to me as a teacher.#but helping last minute is so. deeply chaotic.#and I have this issue with me where having others around me makes me immediately drop into a ‘role’ of sorts?#i’ll be freaking out but then someone else starts freaking out around me and my immediate response is to just.#hey. we are going to make it out of this. it’s easy as pie. do you see me worried? no right? <- on the verge of hyperventilating#there’s this one guy in particular who got so excited to find out we have the exact same examination set-up tomorrow.#i gave him like basic pointers and i don’t think i’ve ever been thanked so earnestly and desperately in my life.#i remember during mocks my friends would message me what I wrote in questions and then they’d immediately go oh thank Fuck.#they’d literally just act like they’re absolutely going to pass now just because we had points in common.#as if i’m some sort of fucked up correct answer sheet incarnate.#it’s genuinely really sweet to me though; like i’m not posting this ranting or such.#having so much faith in another to the point that you can put yourself completely at ease says. alot i think.#and i’m glad i can be that person for so many.#and I feel like it helps me in a way too because i become so concerned with others that I forget to drown myself in my worries.#i forget that I’m worried because there are others to care about and console and help. so i suppose they help me in a way as well.#but also who is going to be that person for ME. who is going to console ME. im going fucking neurotic /jest#<- woman with ego issues & control issues who would rather die than accept help.#sigh. oh well. I’m sure we’ll do just fine. cannot wait#🥀🍷 — colloquy.
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i’m fr gonna lose my mind :)
#been a minute since i’ve ranted in the tags on here hi hello#so i have this friend who is driving me absolutely insane#we’ve been friends for about a year or so and when we first met we clicked right away and got super close and hung out all the time#we met at work but neither of us works there anymore and it feels like our whole friendship is falling apart now that we don’t#i literally have not seen her in person once since the last time we worked together (march)#and even before that we didn’t hang out outside of work since december of last year#and i have grown very used to having friends that just do not put the same amount of effort as me into our friendships and it’s sucks#so i was starting to make my peace with the fact that we just weren’t really friends anymore#but then a few months ago she started texting me asking me to hang out all the time and she seemed way more like her old self#and immediately i got sucked back in and was all excited to see her again and have her back in my life fully#but she completely flaked on me three times in a row (not even cancelling our plans but waiting until the next day to give me an excuse)#which like i said i’m unfortunately used to but she literally was the one who invited ME to hang out every time#like why are you initiating plans with me and then ignoring my calls and texts when it comes time to actually hang out#then a few weeks ago she texted me again saying we should go to a concert together bc we hadn’t in a long time#and there happens to be a concert i’ve been wanting to go to on the 31st but had no one to go with#she said she was totally in and really excited and i bought the tickets a couple days later and texted her to tell her i had#got zero response for almost a week and then she texted me yesterday saying we should hang out this week#so i said yeah let’s do it but also this concert is literally in 2 days are you still coming with me#and no response! again! so now i have 2 days to try and find someone else who can go last minute bc it seems unlikely that she will#and i’m just so fucking confused bc why do YOU keep reaching out to ME just to flake out at the last minute every single time#like at this point it feels like she’s doing it on purpose just to see if i’ll keep tolerating her bullshit#and part of me wants to just cut her off bc she’s been a terrible friend to me for months at this point#but i can’t bring myself to do it bc i miss her so much anyway and when our friendship was good it was really fucking good#like i considered this girl one of my best friends and now it feels like she’s just playing games with me bc she’s bored#which sucks extra bc last year she was there for me when literally none of my long time friends were#like it’s bad enough that it seems like our friendship was conditional on us being coworkers#but it hurts more and more every time she reappears in my life just to ghost me again like genuinely why would you do that#so i’m really upset and pissed off rn and i have no idea wtf to do about the concert bc idk anyone else who likes the artist enough to go#vent#lj.txt
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this isn't to discount or take away from the fact that io can be and is cruel to the people they believe deserve it, nor the fact that io can be straight-up mean for seemingly no reason, but I do think it's important to realize that behind all of that is nothing but a hot nerve of pain and grief. they just really have no other clue how to cope with it except with anger.
#◜❝ 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃. ⟩⟩ i’m losing myself to rage. ❞◞#if someone is able to push the front they put out to the side#then behind that is someone who is so terribly lonely and lost. and so so tired#but also io is a bitch i won't tell u they're not or to give them a pass on it LMAO ofc not#points#asshole.#I live for the moments that Something happens and everything overconfident and shitty about io just#melts away#the way their shoulders drop#the way the mask falls from their face#*the* moment someone else can realize exactly how much pain they're in
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it’s so unfair to just Wake Up with an anxiety bellyache. like nothing even HAPPENED yet
#why does this keep happening why have i felt so awful lately#like i know realistically it’s probably that i’ve been sick so i’ve been on the couch for over a week haven’t gone outside#haven’t put on real clothes haven’t cooked myself haven’t done anything#but when i think about it to myself i don’t wanna do anything. bc i don’t have the energy bc i don’t feel good physically or mentally#and i have SO much that i Need to do that thinking about what i Want to do seems irrelevant#but also i’m desperately trying to figure out what i want to do. what i can do to push this sludge away#and then on top of daily shit i have the ever present looming anxiety of getting older#and just the constant fear and anxiety that i have now that smth terrible will happen to someone i love so i’m just worried all the time#and i know it’s not a healthy way to live but i don’t know how to get out of it so i’m always just distracting myself#when all i want. all i rly desperately want. is to live slow and happy like when i was a kid#all i want is to walk barefoot and bake and climb trees and feel like i have time. is it even possible to get back to that?#how do i do it? where do i start? is it completely impossible until i move?#i don’t know. but i need to figure out smth#and i’m sick of waking up anxious when nothing has even happened
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Me: omg I’m so excited to finish my lore for my oc and show it to others
Me after writing in a part about him eating some shit alive despite the fact that this is a horror game and worse shit is bound to happen and also that’s literally just what I made his character about: UM MAYBE THIS IS A LITTLE TOO MUCH! I SHOULD BE LOCKED AWAY FOR MY CRIMES!
#i have to convince myself it’s fine#also put a trigger warning for like… animal death and such#but it’s not as bad as I make it out to be#i’m just ✨insecure about my writing abilities✨#and need ✨constant assurance✨#even though im not a terrible writer or anything#rambles#oc rambles..
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Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.
I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.
Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.
I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.
5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.
I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.
I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.
I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.
I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.
I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.
But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.
I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.
It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.
If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.
Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.
It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.
You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.
Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.
Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.
#ftm#ftx#genderqueer#transgender#lgbtqiaplus#lgbtqia#queer#trans#trans man#transmasc#trans masculinity#transmasculine#queer masculinty#trans men#trans writing#trans writers#trans pride#transblr#queer writers#queer artist#queer community#queer pride#lgbtq#non binary#genderfluid#lgbtq community#enby#enby pride#trans nonbinary#gor3sigil.txt
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I’m ill and miserable so I’m tinkering with my Pennyworth universe fics and giving myself emotions about Patricia Wayne, of all people.
Non-Pennyworth fans can scroll on if you want, but do we think, just for a moment, that Bruce might adopt his party boy persona a little bit from his Aunt Pat?
I do. I think he looked at his bottle blonde auntie with her giant sunglasses, ditzy demeanor, cigarette always in hand, rumored to have a coke spoon up her sleeve, and a different lover ever week and saw someone sad and hurting but also someone smart enough to put up the exact kind of facade that lets her maneuver through their world, this high society minefield of gossip, judgement and scrutiny, and force people to look the other way out of sheer mortified scandal.
“Did you hear what Patricia Wayne got up to last week?”
“No, tell me.”
She’s all anyone can talk about. This ditzy socialite heiress with her too blonde hair and her too short dresses. Too loud, too bold, too much.
But none of them really know her.
The real her—the auntie with the sad eyes and the biggest smile who used to show up out of nowhere and take him for ice cream in the middle of the school day much to Martha’s annoyance.
The auntie who used to stand behind his father and mimic his serious facial expressions just to make Bruce laugh.
The auntie who showed up to the school run one time looking like a Christmas tree, hair still in foils from the salon because Alfred got detained and when Tommy called to ask she left before the hairdresser had a chance to take them out.
His Auntie Pat who lets him ask questions about the sister he never met and who everyone else is too sad to talk about.
Patricia Wayne who appears at Wayne Manor the moment she heard about Tommy and Martha’s deaths, looking pale and gaunt, aged about a hundred years in the time it took to drive from New York to Gotham because while flying might have been quicker, driving let her scream and howl her grief out because Bruce is a quiet child who needs quiet words and Patricia has never been very good at that but for him she’ll do it. She’ll rip her vocal cords out to give him the quiet solace he needs if that’s what it takes.
Patricia Wayne who signs over full custody to Alfred Pennyworth the moment she can because she loves Bruce but knows herself well enough to know that she’d be a terrible co-parent but also because it makes her want to jump into Gotham harbor with stones in her pockets seeing Tommy looking up at her from behind his eyes.
Auntie Pat who dips in and out of his adolescence like a lightning strike, teaches him how to act and move and glide through the world his parents tolerated and Alfred only knows how to interact with from the sidelines.
Teaches him how to flirt and charm and smile, how to be a darling of the press while never giving anything away.
Auntie Pat who catches him hiding in his parents old bedroom at a party, looking at himself in Martha’s old mirror and listens to the heartbreak in his voice when he admits he can see Martha’s features fading in his face as his jaw squares out. Pat pierces his ear for him, holding a needle over a flame, so he can wear one of Martha’s earrings, Thomas’s cufflinks on his wrists.
Patricia Wayne who watches him start to bulk out. Sees the bruises and cuts that definitely don’t come from polo practice or whatever the fuck Bruce claims they’re from.
Patricia Wayne who looks Alfred dead in the eye when a caped crusader begins stalking the streets of Gotham and remarks loudly at a party that she has no idea where Bruce has got to, but if she had to guess, he’s been detained by a pretty face. You know how Tommy was at his age, the apple never falls far from the tree…
She’ll never ask, and Alfred will never tell, but she’s always got an alibi ready.
Bruce was with her the whole time, officers. Batman? Don’t be absurd. He’s a Wayne. What kind of family do you think they are? Why, you might as well accuse her dearly departed brother of being a secret agent for the government. His wife too while you’re at it. Honestly, the nerve…
Patricia Wayne who coos sweetly at eight year old Dick but tells him quite seriously if he ever calls her “Great Aunt Patricia” ever again she’s taking the toaster for a bath.
She hasn’t had this much work and Botox done for nothing, thank you very much.
I dunno man. I just want him to have someone in his life that when the Brucie Wayne persona jumps out the whole of upper Gotham goes, “oh, he got those Wayne genes. Oh okay. Carry on.”
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pogue!sweetheart!reader surprising rafe with a birthday cake and he’s just like “????? for me????” bc no one has ever celebrated his birthday or made it special for him 🥺
“don’t look!” you laughed, currently struggling to keep your hands over rafe’s eyes as you two stepped into your camper. “mm, it smells good in here.” he hummed. you were practically buzzing with excitement, your smile reaching your ears as you slowly pulled away from him. “okay..” you started, “i know you said you didn’t want to celebrate today, but i couldn’t help myself,” you pecked his cheek, “you could open.”
rafe should’ve known you would go all out for him, his lips pursing together as he took in the sight of his own personal cake and gift basket on the counter. your smile faltered at the look on his face. “is everything okay? do you not like it?” rafe blinked, swallowing thickly as he glanced over at you. “you did this for me?” the disbelief in his voice pulled at your heart strings.
“of course.” you nodded. he walked up to the counter, getting a closer look at the cake. you knew how much he loved the your buttercream frosting, so of course you had to include it just for him. ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY R♡FE’ was also written on top in baby blue lettering. “this is.. wow.” he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. the room fell silent, your heart pounding out of your chest as you waited for rafe to say something else.
as if sensing your uncertainty, rafe finally looked up at you, the worried look on your face making him feel terrible. “i’m so sorry, babe, it’s just- i’ve never had this before.” he pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss into the crown of your head. “i love it so much, i promise,” his large hands rubbed down your back, “no one has ever done anything like this for me.” he laughed softly. “no one has ever surprised you for your birthday?!” you exclaimed, looking up at him. “never. my birthday is just another regular day.” you gasped, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.
“no, it’s not!” you pulled away, picking up the cake. if someone told rafe that on this day last year, he would have the prettiest little thing holding up a cake she made just for him, telling him that his birthday is special, he wouldn’t believe them. “i don’t think i could accept this-” you were quick to cut him off, “i swear i’ll cry if you dont eat it.” rafe wanted to believe your threat was a joke, but he didn’t dare chance it. “okay, okay..” he surrendered, finally letting this whole thing be okay with him.
“well..” you gazed up at him, “what do you think?” rafe met your eyes, seeing nothing but pure love and adoration staring back at him. “i think that i need to marry you.” you smiled as rafe took a finger full of icing and popped the digit in his mouth. “fuck, that’s amazing.” he took the cake out of your hands, placing it back on the counter before grabbing two forks. “don’t dig into it yet, i still have to sing you happy birthday.” rafe put the fork down, now pacing around excitedly as you motioned towards the gift basket.
“open it.” you couldn’t help the huge smile from adorning your face as rafe took each item out one by one. cologne, a few new shirts, his favorite snacks, a homemade birthday card, and..
“are these your panties?”
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ rafe#₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#obx#obx rafe#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fluff#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx
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˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁ Main character energy ⟢ ⭐️
⟢ Heyy angels!! today, I’m gonna share my top secret formula on how to start attaining what I like to call main character energy. This will be a long post sharing all my secrets on how I’m working to become THAT GIRL. ♡
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ WHAT IS MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY? 🕯️ ⊹₊⟡⋆
• main character energy is basically walking into a room with all eyes on you, full of confidence, joy, and hypnotic magnetism.
• if you want to start feeling like that girl, first you have to realize that you already ARE. YOU are the main character of your life. YOU are the star.
• it’s extremely important not to flip flop with this mindset, or it literally won’t work. in order to persist in this idea I really reccommend manifesting it and listening to SUBS that help affirm that “main character” identity you’re going for. my fav sub I use to manifest a sweet, magnetic, and feminine energy . .
the sweetest girl they know works so welll ♡
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SETTING THE STAGE 🎀 ⊹₊⟡*
• main character energy is a FEELING. In order for you to harness that powerful energy, you have to set the stage in your life
•what do I mean? Removing bad influences from your life. How do you expect to be an admirable and magnetic person if you’re surrounded by terrible people?
• anyone who is vibrating on a very low level threatens your ability to elevate your own self. you are who you surround yourself with so choose your friends wisely.
• you should also actively try to curate your social media feed and social space with things that are positive and helpful. social media has a HUGE impact on us and it should be used for our improvement, not to bring us down.
another way I love to do this is MUSIC! you can create an uplifting and confidence boosting playlist full of songs you like.
for example I really like songs like perfect night by le sserafim (kinda controversial ngl…) my world, lucky girl syndrome by illit, a lot of ari grande songs too. ♡ also girlblogging duh and looking at other girlblogs.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ STOP TAKING SHIT 🩰 ⊹₊⟡
• Stop TAKING SHIT from others. You are a walking goddess capable of doing amazing things, who is actively trying to better themselves. Who are you to take someone else’s crap?
• Walk with purpose and confidence, show people that you are secure in yourself. BUT when people are disrespectful to you. DO NOT LET IT SLIDE. That sets a terrible precedent for how others can treat you.
• You CAN Respond in a mature and calm way. But sometimes ignoring it and simply not letting it affect you can work too. Acknowledge what was said, take a deep breath and move forward. Let it go and don’t let anyone else’s comments hinder your journey. You are the one in control.
ways I calmly respond to people trying to check me:
• friend gossiping about me? bye!
• someone’s whispering under their breath about me? block out their voice and instead think about how perfect and beautiful I am.
• someone spreading rumors about me? Correct them to people who may bring them up around me, but be okay with that being misunderstood as long as it isn’t something genuinely harmful that requires adult intervention
• literally anyone has anything to say about me? distance myself from them. they aren’t worth my time, presence nor my precious energy. make that known.
my other post on this which I’m currently working on redoing. . here
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ PUTTING YOU FIRST 🍵 ⊹₊⟡
• put you first ALWAYS. you are the main character in this life, not everyone and everything is worth your attention! never feel obligated to go above and beyond for someone who doesn’t deserve it.
• self care should be a huge priority in your life, because the most important relationship you will ever have with someone in your life is with YOURSELF. it will dictate everyone according to your mindset, the way you view yourself, and the WORLD.
ways I started putting me first:
• dropping the people pleaser thing: practicing saying “no” or “I don’t want to” or “I didn’t like that” in the mirror, then trying my best to apply that in everday life
• stopped answering random unplanned calls from people when I knew I was busy and texting them when I could talk
• stopped agreeing to every hangout as well
• I stayed kind, but I stopped letting people treat me like a doormat.
• letting go when people were displeased with something I said or did.
⟢ that’s basically some of the three main points I had in this post, didn’t wanna make it tooo long. I hope something in here helped someone today and as always stay cute dolls. my inbox is always open for cuties who wanna ttm ♡
#bunny’s dollette ♡#coquette#cute#dollygirl#girlblogging#hyper feminine#law of assumption#manifesting#pink pilates princess#sawako kuronuma#becoming that girl#that girl#it girl energy#affirm and manifest 🫧 🎀✨ ִִֶָ ٠˟#this is what makes us girls#girl blogging#hyperfemininity#pretty princess#wonyoungism#self love#self care#self improvement#dream life
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In Control (18+ g!p)
Synopsis: After Jessie leaves you high and dry one morning before training, you decide to take matters into your own hands when she returns home late that evening.
Warnings: SMUT (18+), g!p smut, simulated sex (think dry humping without clothes 🙃), oral sex (r giving), delayed orgasm/edging, lots of grinding, sort of ruined orgasm, dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamic, overstimulation,
WC: 4.4k
A/N: hi, I know g!p isn’t everyone’s thing, but I had this idea and couldn’t get it out of my brain so I needed to write it. I also promise I’ve got some non-g!p smut in the works as well as some non-smut stuff. I’ve just had to take a bit of a break to deal with some real life things and take time after the election to compose myself and take some time to care for myself. I promise other stuff is slowly being worked on, this is just what was the most completed.
“Babe, don’t!” You scolded Jessie as she lay behind you, subtly grinding the hard on she had woken up with into your ass.
“Don’t what?” Her voice, still deep with sleep
“You know what you’re doing, you’re going to get me all worked up, then leave me high and dry when your alarm goes off in,” you lean over to look at the clock, “8 minutes, and then you get to go work off steam at practice while I’m stuck here without you!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She whispered, before placing an open mouth kiss on the side of your neck, her arms slowly wrapping around your midsection. Her fingers draw lines across your stomach and begin to trail up to your chest as she continues gently grinding herself into you. It takes everything in you to not roll your hips back, you couldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she already had you worked up.
As you predicted, Jessie’s alarm rang out just a few moments later and suddenly her hands were gone and the bed behind you was empty as Jessie moved into the bathroom to get ready. When she came back out in a shirt and shorts you couldn’t help but notice the still prominent bulge she had.
“You didn’t take care of yourself in there?” You say, still eyes her up.
Shaking her head Jessie smiled at you, “I’m saving it for you, plus it’ll go away in a minute or two once I’m thinking about training and not my sexy girlfriend.”
“Go then, but give me a kiss first.” You reach a hand out in her direction.
“I love you.” She says as she walks over to where you remained in bed.
“I love you.” Your lips meet in a quick kiss. “You better be ready to go when you get home, none of this I’m too tired from training shit. You’ve fucked me after playing 90 and then going to after parties, you can handle it after a training session.” You smile up at her, giving her a quick wink, making sure she knew you were teasing.
“I promise, I’ll make it worth the wait, I’ll have you screaming my name baby.” She responded with a cocky tone, letting her hand trail down your sternum before placing one final kiss on your lips. “We’re done at 1:30, I’ll be leaving there around 2:30 at the latest, I promise. 3 o’clock I’m all yours.”
You sighed heavily as you checked the time again. 2:30 came and went, no text from Jessie that she’d be home soon, then it was 2:45 still no word from her, and then it was 3:00. You had gotten yourself all ready 30 minutes before Jessie was supposed to be home And here she was, late.
You had gone into the closet, finding the small shopping bag you had purchased the other day. Inside of it a tight, dark blue lacy bra with a matching thong to go with it. You had put both on, then perched yourself on your bed in anticipation for Jessie’s return home, waiting for her to come and follow through on her promise to have you screaming her name.
You were annoyed at first, Jessie never blew you off. She was a terrible texted but she kept you updated on where she was, when she’d be home. This was unusual behavior, you were worried about her, maybe something happened, maybe she had gotten injured. Your early stages of spiraling were put to rest when Jessie finally returned your messages at 3:21.
Jessie ☺️: I’m so sorry, I got caught up in some impromptu press stuff I didn’t know about, I’ll be home soon.
Slightly frustrated with her, you decide to get your revenge. Smirking to yourself you open your phone's camera before sliding your hand to the waistband of your thong. You move your hand down between your legs, taking a moment to touch yourself before deciding to take a photo. It wasn’t overly explicit, just showing your hand between your legs and a teasing glimpse of the blue lace, but it would get the idea into Jessie’s head.
You: I was told I’d be getting pleased by 3, just didn’t know I’d have to do it myself.
You watch as the message goes from delivered to read. You watch as she types for a moment, then stop, no message ever being delivered. You roll your eyes, losing your phone before lying back, letting your fingers mindlessly play with your core, not really trying to get yourself off but more just enjoying the feeling.
You heard the jingle of her keys and the door shut followed by quick footsteps and the bedroom door swinging open not long after. Jessie stood in the doorway still wearing her training kit. Her eyes fall to where your hand was still inside the lacy fabric.
“Oh wow.”
“Nice of you to show up.” You say firmly at her, sitting yourself up on your elbows, taking your fingers away from where they had been on your clit.
“I know, I’m so sorry, we just had media stuff that no one told us about.” As Jessie begins her frustrated rant regarding having to participate in media and the lack of warning your eyes can’t help but wander down her body to the slightly obvious tent of her training shorts.
“I just wish they’d given us a heads up, that would’ve been nice, but no, they made us all train and then shower and then we had to get back into clean training kits and pretend we were training again for photos.” Jessie continues on rambling.
Deciding you had heard enough you push yourself up from the bed and walk over to her. She continues talking, eyes now closed in frustration, complaining about her day until she feels your hand fall between her legs, cupping the noticeable arousal. Her eyes immediately open, falling to where your hand rested.
“Should we do something about this?” You look at her, giving a gentle squeeze to her bulge. She nods and you reach for her neck with your free hand, pulling her in hard to kiss you. Her body pressed into yours, letting her covered bulge grind against you. “Hang on Jess.” You manage to clear your mind enough to push her away gently. She steps back, her eyes trailing over your nearly naked body, drinking you in with her eyes.
“God I’m so lucky.” She mumbles to herself. You feel shy and yet confident under her gaze, knowing you could make her like this felt good.
“Lay down.” You say nodding at the bed. Jessie questions you with a glance. You throw your hands up. “Just do it, let me put on a show for you.” Running your hands over the lace of the bra you try to sell the lie you were telling her. You knew if you told her what you were about to do, she’d be stubborn. Promising a show would get her on the bed easily.
As you expected she quickly climbs on the bed situating herself in the middle. You follow her, making your way towards where she laid. Jessie sits up one hand out to reach for you, instead your hands find her shoulders and you gently push her down, putting her on her back before climbing to sit on her thighs.
“Hey that was mean.”
“So was telling me that you'd be mine at 3, and then not getting home until nearly 4.”
“I know, but babe I had media.” She tried to defend herself. You knew deep down it wasn’t her fault, but she could’ve at least texted.
“Shhh.” You put a finger to her lips. “No excuses, right?” You nod encouragingly down at her, until her own head mirrors the nod. You lean down kissing her hard, starting to slowly grind yourself down onto Jessie’s thighs. “Now,” you pause, “do you think you deserve a show?”
Jessie just looks at you, her eyes jumping around your face, unsure of how to answer, so she doesn’t. She continues to stare, her mouth opening every few seconds as if she’s going to answer before she closes it again.
“I don’t think you do. Had you been on time, I would’ve given you a show, I would’ve let you put your hands all over me, I would’ve let you pull these off of me, or maybe I would’ve let you decide if you wanted to fuck me while I was still wearing them. But you were late, and I had to start by myself.”
Jessie sighs, “Let me make it up to you, let me show you I’m sorry.” Her hands come to rest on your thighs, letting them creep up toward your core.
“No, keep your hands to yourself.” You say with a glare before moving off her thighs. You bring your hands lower, one cupping the obvious tent in her shorts. Giving it a quick squeeze, Jessie bucks her hips slightly.
You slowly draw down her shorts, making sure to tease her, taking your time getting the waistband past her erection, letting the fabric drag slowly over her cock. You then repeat the same tantalizing process with her tight compression boxers, finally letting her length spring free. You admire it for a second, giving it your full attention knowing it made Jessie feel shy but you wanted to truly appreciate her, all of her. “Is that all for me? Did I get you this hard?” You cock an eyebrow, looking up at her from where you sat between her legs.
Jessie nods in your direction, her eyes looking between her own arousal and your face.
“Tell me baby.” You encourage her.
“You make me so hard.”
“Good girl.” You praise her, causing her breath to hitch slightly at the words and her erection to bounce as her muscles clench In reaction to your words.
“You know I was thinking about this,” Your hand wraps around the base of her cock, “when I was touching myself. I was thinking about how well you fuck me, how wet I get for you, thinking about you, all of you, your fingers and your tongue and especially your cock.”
Jessie takes a deep breath, blinking quickly a few times, you can tell she’s trying to compose herself the way her hands fist the bedsheets before relaxing.
“You must’ve had some dirty thoughts of your own, the way you walked in the door already hard. What were you thinking about baby?”
“You.” Jessie tries to thrust her hips into your hand slightly, causing you to take your hand away from her.
“Tell me more.”
“I was thinking about that dirty little photo you sent me. I was thinking about fucking you.” You nod encouragingly as she speaks, bringing your hand back to her, running your fingers down her length. Her words stops and you once again take away your hand.
“More.” You say looking up at her.
She nods, looking to the ceiling for a moment. “I was thinking about, how sexy you are, how good you feel around me,” Jessie’s words fill the air, you bring your mouth to the tip of her cock, your tongue grazing over the head, cleaning the precum that was leaking from the tip. When Jessie’s voice stops you pull your head back and look up to see her eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar.
“You stop talking, I stop too.”
“Your pussy, I was thinking about your pussy, how tight you feel, how you’re made for me.” As she speaks you take the head of her length into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl around it, pleased with yourself when she stumbles over her words. “I was thinking about how I want to be deep inside of you, making you scream my name.”
Rewarding her you take her length into your mouth until the tip hits the back of your throat, before pulling off and watching in amusement as she thrusts into the air, wanting your mouth back. “I don’t think you deserve to be in my mouth, and you certainly don’t deserve to be in my pussy.” Jessie just lets out another sigh as she looks up at you with a silent beg.
Your hand strokes Jessie’s length once, spreading your saliva along it before your hand comes to hold it for a moment. Slowly you push her cock down, the tip coming to rest on her stomach just below her bellybutton. You hold it flat against her stomach and begin to adjust yourself. You move upward, off her thighs to hover over her hips, your core just inches away from where you knew she wanted it.
Smirking down at her you pull your panties to the side and lower yourself onto her. You raised an eyebrow as you gave a tentative grind yourself along Jessie’s length, watching her for any signs of discomfort. The stuttered breath from Jessie gave you all the information you needed to know, she was enjoying this as well.
You repeat your motion, letting the slick of your arousal coat the underside of her cock. Looking up from where the head of her cock was starting to leak onto her stomach you find Jessie’s face mesmerized as she watched you grind on her. “Guess you’re getting a show after all.” You say smugly, her eyes pulling away and coming up to meet yours. “Like what you see?”
A smile creeps onto Jessie’s face as she nods. “Yeah, you look fucking gorgeous.”
“Would this make it better?” You say as you reach a hand behind your back, removing the clasp on your bra and letting the material slide down your shoulders slightly. You remove the bra, tossing it to the side and you swear you can feel Jessie’s cock twitch against you. Her hands start to move upward before you move your own hands to cover your chest. “It’s just a show, no touching, if you had been on time you could’ve touched me in any way you wanted.” Standing up quickly, despite Jessie’s whine as the loss of contact, you strip off the panties you had already soaked, dropping them on the floor before climbing back onto the bed and settling yourself on Jessie’s cock.
Feeling smug at the way Jessie lets out a small huff of frustration, you rock back and forth again, this time making sure to grind your clit against her head, knowing that’s where she was most sensitive. “Fuck.” Jessie’s hands grip your thighs, her nails digging in slightly. You feel her arms tense as they try to encourage your grinding motion.
Fed up with her, you grab her wrists, pulling them from your thighs, noticing the way your skin flashes white before returning pink from how hard she had been gripping you. You lace your fingers with hers before leaning forward, pinning her arms above her head. “What did I say? No touching. You’re not in charge anymore, you lost that privilege when you were late.” You watch as Jessie’s eyes widen in what appears to be shock, you weren’t normally one to be dominant in the bedroom, that was usually her role. You felt uneasy for a moment watching her reaction, worried you’d made her uncomfortable, but she just looked up at you before swallowing hard and nodding.
“Please.” She let out what would be an otherwise embarrassing whine, but you knew she didn’t care. You could feel the way her body tensed under yours, her hands clenching into fists. You just smile and shake your head down at her.
She could flip the two of you easily, you both knew it. She was stronger, even in her compromised position she had leg, core, and arm strength that yours couldn’t match. While she could overpower you, Jessie also knew this was a punishment, she had gotten held up at work and failed to tell you, so while she could flip you, easily have her way with you, she remained flat on the bed, looking up helplessly at you.
“Babe, please, I’m so sorry.”
“Hmmm.” You pretend to ponder the choices, knowing fully that you weren’t going to let her get her way just yet. “No, I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet.”
“I have, babe I’ll never do it again.” You can feel her starting to squirm more beneath you. “Let me show you how sorry I am, let me make you feel good.”
“I’m feeling plenty good. I think it’s you who’s a little worked up.” You lean down putting your mouth to her ear. “I think you just want to be in my tight pussy.” You whisper, punctuating your sentence by grazing your teeth along her ear.
“I- “fuck, I do, I want to be inside you, but I want to make you feel good.”
“Like I said, I’m feeling plenty good.” You emphasize your words with a roll of your hips, watching as Jessie’s mouth falls open and she briefly closes her eyes. Taking her silence as acceptance of her punishment, you continue grinding yourself along her, enjoying the way her face contorts trying to hide how good you were making her feel.
You start to notice how Jessie’s breathing picks up, going from long, deep breaths trying to compose herself, to quicker, less even breathing. It doesn’t take long before Jessie speaks up again. “Fuck, babe, I’m gonna cum soon if you don’t stop.”
“Yeah?” You let your hips stall for a moment and watch as Jessie instantly relaxes below you, taking in a slow deep breath.
“Yeah, you’ve got me so close.”
“Good.” You smirk down at her as you begin moving your hips, you watch as frustration flushes through Jessie’s face before being replaced with pleasure as you grind yourself onto the head of her cock. Her eyes begin to roll back before she quickly shuts her eyes, letting out a strained grunt.
“Fuck.” She mutters, head thrown back slightly. “Fuck, babe.” She sends you a glare, an expression of annoyance across her face. ”Seriously. I’m going to cum.”
“Then do it.” You shrug your shoulders.
“No.” Jessie shakes her head against the pillow, her eyes pinched shut, “Not yet, I want to cum inside you.” You almost laugh at her expression. You hardly ever got to see Jessie like this, putty in your hands,
“If you wanted to cum inside me maybe you would’ve come home on time.” You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself as you watched your usually in control, level headed, calm girlfriend fall apart beneath you. “Then you could’ve been so deep inside me, any position you would’ve wanted, let you manhandle me, use me, I would’ve let you cum in me. But you were late.”
She shuts her mouth, lips tight, she squints at you, not saying a word.
“Oh, are you upset baby?” You tease her. Putting both of her wrists in one hand you grab her chin with the other, making her look at you. She glares up at you, still not speaking. “Okay well how about I give you options? Would you like that?”
Jessie keeps her glare for a moment before giving in and nodding.
“Okay, well you can either cum now just like this,” you gesture downward to where her cock still remained nestled between your lips. “Or, you don’t cum at all, I’ll climb off, leave you here, and use one of our toys to finish the job. What would you prefer?” You notice the degrading tone you’re using toward her, but you also don’t care.
She doesn’t give you an answer right away, to tease her you start to shift your weight as if you’re going to stand up. “Like this.” She finally mutters.
“Good choice.” You sit back down with a grin, returning to your previous motion, making sure to focus your attention on the head of her cock. It’s only a few minutes later that Jessie starts to quietly whine.
You know it’s coming, you can tell by her facial expressions, the way she scrunches her nose and her eyebrows pinch together. Her chest begins to heave. You finally release her hands, realizing just how hard she was straining against you, they immediately grab your hips as you allow her to aid your grinding motion as she ever so slightly thrusts her hips. The way her eyes get wide as if giving you one last plea to be inside of you before slamming shut, her lips falling apart as a deep groan from her fills the air.
Pausing your own thrusts you watch as her hips thrust roughly twice before stalling, the head of her cock nestled between your lips. You can feel her tense up below you. A whisper of profanities comes from her mouth. Her hands tighten on your thighs, her nails indenting your skin, her thighs and core clenched and she holds her breath as she begins to cum, traces being shot over her own chest. A whine full of pleasure mixed with frustration escapes her body as you feel her length twitch beneath you.
“Now that you got yours, I want mine.” You say starting to grind yourself on her again. You knew you had to be quick, using her length while it was still hard you moved yourself faster, grinding yourself harder. Jessie gasps as you begin to pleasure yourself once again, using her overly stimulated cock.
“Oh fuck, this is so good Jess.” Feeling yourself get closer to the edge you no longer care that she’s touching you, not enough self control to slow your impending orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck,” Jessie groans beneath you, her eyes are still closed as she tries to keep her composure long enough to help you get your orgasm. she bites her lip hard stuck between the immense pleasure and overstimulation she was experiencing. “Too much.” She whines as you speed up your hips, your hands flat on her chest using her for leverage.
“You can take it. I’m almost there Jess.” You knew if she needed you to stop she’d tell you, you also knew she’d do anything to get you your pleasure. Her hands kneaded at your thighs as she tried to hold herself together long enough to help you. She nodded, adding in a thrust with her hips, aiding in the stimulation on your clit.
“Right there, fuck.” You can feel your thighs beginning to tremble on either side of Jessie’s waist as your orgasm creeps closer. Your hands leave her chest and move to your own, letting your fingertips graze over your sensitive nipples. You did it knowing it would give you the tiny bit of sensation you needed to get over the edge but also because you knew it drove Jessie crazy.
As you expected, her mouth falls open in awe watching you. You catch her eyes for one moment before your own close as you throw your head back, your orgasm crashing down. The feeling of release radiates from your core across the rest of your body causing you to tense, stalling your hips momentarily. You jerk your hips against Jessie a few times, working yourself through your orgasm, before collapsing forward. A small sigh leaves your lips as your head comes to rest in the crook of her neck as you wind down. Your breathing is quick and shallow against her skin.
You allow yourself only a minute to recover before pushing yourself up from where you lay on her chest. “I love you, don’t be late next time.” You smirked as you rolled over, still spent from your own orgasm you lay for just a second before quickly getting up. “I’m going to shower.” You look back for a second admiring your girlfriend, her chest covered in her cum, her now softening cock still resting up on her stomach, covered in your own arousal, she looked beautifully spent.
Jessie laid on the bed still, nearly frozen in place, unable to comprehend the past hour. A feeling of overstimulation was still lingering between her thighs but also so was a strong desire to go again. She couldn’t believe the way you took control, the way you held your own against her. She was so used to you crumbling under her touch, falling into submission quickly, but you hadn’t this time. You took control, you had pushed her down on the bed, you had your way with her, you made her submissive. What was confusing Jessie’s mind the most was how much she had liked it.
Laying back, thinking of how you had pinned her hands above her head, how you had her begging for you, how hot you looked using her body to get yourself off. She was in awe, speechless, dumbfounded and overall she was aroused. She looked down, seeing the remnants of her previous orgasm across her stomach and chest, as well as her cock that was beginning to rise again. She needed you.
You waited in the bathroom for a moment, shower running, waiting for your girlfriend to join you. When she didn’t and you didn’t hear her move, you wandered back into the bedroom, still seeing Jessie laid on her back. “Are you joining me, or should I shower by myself, oh!” You stop your question noticing the hard on Jessie was displaying.
Her hands immediately move downward to conceal herself as a smirk grows on your face. “Ready to go again already?”
You watch as the expression on Jessie’s face turns to one you know all too well. Gone was the shy, sweet, submissive side of your girlfriend, her face now firm stared back at you. She was about to get her revenge.
She moved off the bed and toward you, her hand grabbing your chin and pulling it to look at her. “Get in the shower. Seems like someone needs a reminder of who’s in charge around here, and I think we’ll start with you cleaning me up with that smart little tongue of yours.”
#jessie fleming#jflem#jessie fleming x reader#jessie fleming imagine#woso x reader#woso imagine#canwnt x reader#woso smut
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If this request makes you uncomfortable or isn’t something you want to write, I apologize and please ignore my request!
Heyy! I was wondering if I could request a satoru x reader x Suguru smut? With like, some bdsm mixed in yk. Tying reader up, satoru is a tease, and likes to make her squirm and ask questions he know she can’t answer because Suguru is fucking her throat. But Suguru is mean. Mean and tougher than satoru. He tells satoru to stop being so gentle with you, that not only do you deserve rough treatment but you like it. And satoru listens to him, of course. I just want them to run through me like a train😞
Also same mean geto anon (again lol) I’m gonna just sign off w an emoji now :3 -🍭
Hi Anon!
This isn't my cup of tea, it's my FUCKING jam!!
Summary: Gojo and Geto had been on a two-week-long mission, which hadn't gone as smoothly as Suguru wanted. He was pent-up and frustrated. So, of course, Gojo called you to warn you it might not be a good idea to come over. You, of course, did not heed his warning. The second you get home, you realize that you were screwed.
Word Count: 3,706
Warnings: BDSM, rough sex, oral sex, so much sex, degradation, teasing, the smuttiest of smut
A/N: Good God, Satoru x Reader x Suguru is my weakness!! I put my whole heart into this. Geto Suguru, teacher AU, is my kryptonite!
Part Two
She Likes it Like That
“Y/N babe,” Gojo said in a hushed whisper, “you probably shouldn't come home tonight.”
You cocked an eyebrow, looking away from the first year's training. “I'm sorry, did you just tell me not to come home. . .to our apartment?” The world ‘our’ came out like acid.
Gojo sighed overdramatically. “Don't say it like that. I'm trying to save you! Suguru is in such a bad mood.” You listened to him walking around. “I sighed out loud when I noticed the last of my mochi was gone. Fuck you for that, by the way, and do you know what he said to me?” You pinched at the bridge of your nose, waiting for the rant to continue. “He told me to shut the fuck up! For sighing!”
“What did you do to piss him off? Oh, and just an FYI, I bought you more mochi, asshole.”
“Oh—” silence, “thank you-I’m sorry, please don't return it.”
“Satoru! Forget about the mochi. What happened to Sugu?”
The mission your partners were sent on did not go as planned. Their hotel had flooded; it was not like they had time to consider sleeping. The higher-ups sent them to an abandoned mountainside village full of cursed spirits. Poor Suguru had to swallow dozens for nearly two weeks. Gojo had enough; he couldn't stand the pained expression on his face as he gagged the last spirit down. So he decided to Hollow-Purpled the entire village.
The second they got back, the higher-ups scolded the hell out of them. Chastising them, complaining that they didn't do a good enough job. After all their hard work, the time they spent away from home, from you. Those bastards dared to complain about their hard work. It sent Suguru into a terrible mood, one that was bound to end with either a fight or someone getting fucked into the mattress.
One thing about Suguru was that when he was pissy, things felt out of his control. He needed to take control back. Which meant he wanted to have sex. He would be rough, really rough, tying either you or Satoru up, not letting you go until he had calmed down. Or if one of you was fucked too stupid to continue, his eyes focused on the other that wasn't tied up.
“So please, just stay with Ieiri tonight. I'm going to lock myself in my room. Last time he was this pissed off, the both of us were so sore we couldn't move.”
“Ugh, fuckin’ whatever.” This whole situation wasn't fair. You hated how your boyfriends were mistreated.
“Yeah, just stay the—oh, hi Suguru.” There was a shuffling in the background. “No, I wasn't talking shit.” Satoru nervously laughed. “Look, Sugu—no, put down the rope—”
“Toru?” Panic for your boyfriend sank into your stomach.
“Hey! Wait a second—Sugu—”
Before any other indication of what was happening came through the receiver, the other line cut off. So you quickly yelled to the students you had to leave and took off. By the time you made it, you were breathless from running and realized that in your panic, you left your keys at work.
You picked up the spare key hidden under the doormat. Just as you were about to unlock the door, it flew open. You slowly blinked, looking up at a very irritated Suguru. The man radiated gloom and tension. He was in his sweatpants, and his hair was tied in a messy bun, and, dear God, he looked pent up.
“Why the fuck are you using the spare key?”
“I-I uh—”
“Ooooh~ there she is~!” a hand gently rested against Suguru’s shoulder as Satoru peered down at you from behind your dark-haired boyfriend. “There's our girl!”
It only took a moment to see that Satoru mirrored Suguru’s frustration and anger. Oh fuck. The key fell from your hand as you took a step back. Suguru was demanding and rough when he was pent up. Satoru, on the other hand, was a tease. He liked pushing you, making you cry. Both of them being in a pissy mood simultaneously, this was a nightmare for you.
“Y-You, I thought you were in trouble!”
“Oh yeah, no.” Suguru’s soured face slowly twisted into a smirk as Satoru licked his lip. “But you~?” Suguru’s hand darted out, grabbing you by the front of your shirt, preventing you from moving further back. “You're royally fucked.” Before you even had a chance to respond, Suguru and Satoru grabbed you, yanking you inside.
“Awe~” Satoru hummed as he trailed his kiss up the bare thighs he lay between. “Look at you~ trying to clamp your thighs shut.” Gojo’s fingers were buried deep inside of you. Finger fucking you to the edge of yet another orgasm he would deny. “But you can't, can you~? Suguru’s got you all tied to the bed, spread out for us to use you.” A muffled moan escaped you. “Huh? What was that princess? You gotta use your big girl words.” Satoru tilted his head, cupping his free hand around the back of his ear. “Oooh! That's right, you can't talk when getting your throat fucked.”
You gagged as Suguru's cock hit the back of your throat. He was quiet, his eyes shut in concentration. He looked so fucking hot, so focused on the feeling of your mouth. Sweat was beading on his forehead as he pulled in and out of your mouth, grunting softly as you hollowed your cheeks. But the more Satoru spoke, the more Suguru knitted his eyebrows.
“I bet you want me to stuff your pussy, too, don't you~? You want to be spit-roasted between your two boyfriends?” Your pussy twitched at his words. “Oooh~!! Your cunt just twitched. Is that what our sweet girl wants—”
“Satoru,” Suguru snarled, “shut the fuck up.”
“Well, excuse the fuck out of me. Y/N likes it when I tease her.”
Suguru tsked, pulling his thick cock out of your mouth. You gasped and coughed, spit and precum coating your chin. Between your pants and the gasps for air, Suguru went to what you thought would be a head pat. Instead, his fingers tangled in your air with a hard yank, pulling you up to look down at Satoru. His face was flushed, cerulean eyes wide as he looked between his two partners.
“Look at the fucking slutty face she's making.” The grip on your hair tightened. “You think she looks like this because of your pitiful teasing?” A shaky moan escaped you as he tightened his grip harder. “No, she looks like this because this little slut likes it rough.”
Fuck, you wanted more, to run your hands over Suguru’s arms, to grip his cock, urging him to keep fucking your throat. You were desperate to trap Satoru's head firmly between your thighs, forcing him to kiss and lick your clit. Instead, you weakly tugged at the purple restraints tied to both your wrists and ankles. Suguru had set up the rigging underneath the mattress, making it impossible for you to move. Meaning if you wanted his cock back in your mouth or Satoru’s tongue inside of you, you had to wait for them.
What made it more frustrating was the fact that you were completely bare. Not allowing you to hide the way your body reacted to Suguru’s dirty words. He was telling the truth. And the truth was behind your body's reactions. Gojo could see it in the way your tight entrance clenched around his fingers. He could feel your pussy drip around him, your wetness running down his knuckles. Suguru was right; you did like it; no, like wasn't the right word.
You fucking loved it.
Suguru could see the wheels turning in Satoru’s head as his eyes glittered with lust and excitement. “Satoru~ do you finally see it?~” The way Suguru purred his name had Satoru’s cock throbbing. “You see why she came home, even though she knew she’d get fucked?”
“Yeah, yeah, she's a fucking slut.”
“Yeah, she is.” A sharp tug on your head made you yelp. Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “You want it rough? Want me to fuck your throat so hard you cry, pretty girl?”
“Y-Yes, please.”
Gripping his cock at the base, Suguru slapped his thick meat against your cheek. “That's a good girl. Now open up.” slowly, you opened your mouth to him. Watching your tongue slip out had his tip angry, throbbing red. “Now,” he smeared the beading precum over your bottom lip, “say ah~.”
“Ahh~” The second that sound left your pretty mouth Suguru shoved his cock in your mouth. Your eyes stung as tears filled your eyes.
Satoru’s fingers had stopped their slow movements inside of you. His mouth was dry as he gulped. Suguru had been rough before, but this was a whole new level. His thick fingers wrapped around your Y/H/C hair, holding your head in place. His hips pull back before slamming forward, his ass clenching with the force of each thrust. Blue eyes slowly trailed over to your face. Your eyes were red, big tears slowly down your cheeks, and your throat was fucked. Satoru swore he could see Suguru’s tip bulging in your slender neck.
This was fucking hot. Suguru’s bare back glittered in the low light of the bedroom, a sheen of sweat beaded over his toned muscles. It was like watching a god fuck a mortal Suguru radiated a dominating power as he watched their girlfriend choke and gag on his cock. Satoru’s cock was so hard it fucking hurt. Reaching down, he wrapped his hand around his throbbing shaft, jerking it slowly as he leaned down, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs.
The gentle kisses had you sighing contently around Suguru’s cock. Looking over his shoulder, Suguru sighed as he watched Satoru. His pink tongue was stuck out, gently teasing your damp folds. The sensation had you sighing around his dick, and that was not what he needed right this fucking second. Suguru wanted more; he needed it to relieve the tension in his shoulder. But that relief, the release he needed, wouldn’t happen, with Satoru teasing you like he loved to do.
“Satoru,” Suguru's voice was rough, “I just told you Y/N likes it rough.”
“Uh-huh~” Satoru’s voice was muffled as his face buried in your pussy, making you whine around the cock buried in your mouth.
“You’re not being rough enough.” Satoru pulled back, making you whine in protest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to come down here and eat Y/N’s pussy while I get my dick sucked?”
“No.” The cocky smile that was beginning to form on Satoru’s face was suddenly gone as Suguru reached his free hand down, wrapping his fingers in soft white hair. “I want you to fucking eat her cunt out like you fucking hate her.” Your eyes rolled back as Satoru was slammed back down into your pussy. The moan that left his mouth vibrated just right against our clit, making you cry out. “Ah~ fuck yes.” Your cries vibrated around Suguru’s cock, just the way he wanted. “That’s it, Satoru, keep it up.”
“Mmmmph.” Finally, having a picture of how Suguru wanted him to act, Satoru found himself motivated. Again, it might be because his boyfriend was tugging and pulling at his sensitive hairline. Yeah, that was motivating him. Fuck you like he hated you, he could do that. He was just as pent-up as Suguru was.
Fingers slammed inside your pussy, fucking in and out of your tight hole with a force and speed that had you crying out in pleasure. Your moans felt so fucking good, and the more you opened your mouth to cry, the deeper Suguru fucked your throat. He hit the back over and over again, his hand pressing firmly against Satoru’s head, pushing him harder against your clit. The two of you moaned while your mouths were being used; the sounds of whimpers, squelches, and gagging were like a symphony to Suguru’s ears.
Out of all the ways for him to relieve his stress, this was by far his favorite.
“Hah—fuck keep that up, Satoru, bring her right to the edge, then stop. I want her cumming with both of us inside of her. Fucking her so rough she has to call out of work tomorrow and Friday.” The thought of that had you pulling on your restraints. “Oooh oh, you like that? You like knowing the two of us will make sure you can’t walk or talk tomorrow?” Your muffled moans were quickly molded into gags as Suguru roughly fucked your face. “Yeah, you fucking do, you nasty little slut.”
Your mind was spinning as you felt yourself climbing closer and closer to your orgasm. The room was so hot and reeked of sex. It was all you could do not to allow yourself to cum right then and there. Satoru could feel it, the way your little swollen clit throbbed against his tongue, how your walls clamped down on his fingers. He wanted to send you over the edge. He was close to following you as he fucked his hips helplessly into the mattress, wishing it was your wet pussy instead.
One orgasm wouldn’t hurt, would it? You had been so good to them, allowing the duo to drag you into the house, strip you in the entryway, and tie you to the bed. Plus, on top of all that, they had left you alone for two weeks. You had to rely on that stupid vibrator Suguru insisted on allowing you to keep. That stupid toy was nothing compared to his tongue. Which was probably why he was bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm in under three minutes.
Yeah, he was going to let you cum.
Curling his fingers up into your g-spot, Satoru fucked you as fast as his wrist would allow. Suguru instantly knew what was happening. From the way your eyes shut to how loud you were moaning around him, you were seconds away from cumming. If he was in a better mood, he might have allowed it to happen. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done with you yet.
“Stop.” Suguru scolded, pulling Satoru away from your dripping sex.
Both you and Satoru made disapproving groans as your orgasm slowly faded out of sight. “Doesn’t she deserve a treat? She’s been so good!” Satoru whined, licking your juices off his lips.
“I agree. Y/N does deserve a reward. But you need to give it to her in the roughest way that you can.” Suguru pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. “Look at it this way. We get to blow off the steam while we make up for making her play with herself for two weeks.”
“Huh?” Those words struck a different chord in Satoru, and his cock twitched.
“Y/N, sweetheart, how often would you say you played with yourself when we were gone.”
You swallowed at the air greedily. “I don’t know, seven, maybe eight times.” Both your boyfriends shuddered, hearing the hoarseness of your voice.
“And out of all of those times, did you cum as hard as you do with us.”
“Not at all. They were all baby orgasms.”
Suguru shut his eyes, nodding his head. “See, Satoru, not only does our little slut like us rough and demanding, but we have to make up for those eight little orgasms.” When the dark-haired man looked back at Satoru, he saw a flash of white before your scream of shock and please bounced off the walls.
Suguru’s eyes were slightly wide as his brain tried to catch up with what his eyes had just witnessed. What he saw was Satoru balls deep inside of you. His thrusts were sloppy and needy, and fuck you looked as stunned as Suguru. One second you had been empty, pussy craving a cock deep inside of it from the denied orgasm. In the blink of an eye, Satoru was fucking into you more brutal than he’d ever fucked you before.
“I fucking told you, that toy was nothing compared to us.” Satoru snarled against the crook of your neck, digging his teeth into the sensitive skin. “Fucking stupid toy, not pleasing my girl.”
“Oh my—fuck, holy fuck!” You cried out, mouth wide open. Giving Suguru the perfect opportunity to get back to fucking your throat. The bittersweet taste of pre-cum had your mouth watering. He returned to the brutal pace he was in several minutes again.
“She needs that Satoru. What if we get sent on another long mission? She’s just supposed to suffer?” The thought of that had Suguru tilting his head, bangs falling in front of his eye. “You know what, I think you might be on to something. If we take her toy away, then we’d have to fuck her even harder the next time we get home.”
Satoru’s teeth sank harder into your neck as the tip of his cock slammed almost too hard into your cervix, making you scream around Suguru. “Exactly. Let me use reversal red on it, Y/N, please, baby.” You started to shake your head in a desperate plea to let you keep it. But Suguru’s cock in your throat made it impossible to do so. “What was that? Oh, right, you have your mouth full.” His lips moved against your pulse as his fingers dug into your hips. “Guess we’ll just have to say the way your clamping down on my cock is a yes in our book.” Your eyes darted up to Suguru, who had bought you the toy, for help.
“Mhmm fuck, yeah, I’m pretty sure she just hummed an ‘uh-huh’ around my cock.”
You wanted to argue, to fight against this rash decision, but you felt so good it was almost impossible to care. You were screaming around Suguru’s cock. Tears streaming down your face, leaving behind trails of mascara. They were both being so mean and rough. God, it was so fucking good. Who cared about a clit sucker when your throat and pussy were being fucked into next week.
“She’s close.” Satoru cried out, his balls slapping against your ass. “Oh fuck she’s hugging my cock so tight I’m going to explode Suguru.”
With blurry eyes, you glanced up at Suguru. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes shut tight. “I know, oh fuck I know, I’m so close, Satoru, don’t fuckin’ stop, make her cum, make her cum so hard.” Both his hands grabbed your face fucking your throat roughly as Satoru cried out, his hand pressing roughly on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.
That was all that you needed. You cried out, squirting all over Satoru’s crotch, abdomen, and the mattress. Your orgasm set a domino effect between your boyfriends. Suguru followed behind you, his body hunched over you, his hands gently squeezing your head as he filled your mouth full of his thick cum. You weakly tried swallowing all of it, but that was somewhat difficult as Satoru extended your orgasm.
His thumb continues to rub your clit until his face scrunch up, mouth open in a feral growl. Satoru's orgasm hit him like a punch in the gut. He fucked all three of you harder, closer to oblivion. The headboard slamming against the wall as the restraint dug into your wrists was the only thing grounding you to remain on Earth. Satoru didn’t let up on the rough thrusts until he felt his cum dripping around his cock onto the bed.
The throbbing pain in the back of your throat, deep inside of your pussy was all the confirmation you needed that your boyfriends had fulfilled their promise. Never in your life had you been fucked so roughly. But it was a pain that you warmly welcomed.
After coming down, Suguru was the first to move gently. The rough hands that had been holding you in a vice gently held you as he pulled his softening cock out of your mouth. “Lay down.” His gruff, gentle voice whispered as he helped rest you against a pillow.
“Oh fuck—“ Satoru lifted his head off your shoulder, “I haven’t cum that hard in a while.” He was so slow, pulling out of you, grimacing as you cried out. “Sorry, fuck I’m sorry, baby.”
You shut your eyes, listening to Satoru getting out of bed. You could hear water running in the bathroom as gentle fingers began undoing your restraints. “You did such a good job, Y/N,” Suguru whispered. “Such a good girl for us.” His praise had you humming happily as he made quick work of the rest of the ropes.
“Suguru, let’s order in, yeah?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
The next half hour was a blur of warm happiness. Satoru helped wash your body in a bubble bath before Suguru joined you, kneeling next to the tub, lovingly stroking your face and hair. After you were cleaned up, your hair brushed, and pajamas on. You crawled into your bed with fresh sheets and relaxed. Satoru and Suguru fluffed your pillows and brought you a cup of tea for your raw throat. When your dinner arrived, the three of you sat in bed together to eat as a B-grade horror movie played on the television.
After eating, Satoru left to throw out the take-out containers. “Mmm, thank you for letting us do all that,” Suguru said as he crawled into bed after his shower. “That mission, it was rough.”
“I’m always happy to help.” Your voice cracked, making Suguru frown. “Stop frowning,” you flicked his forehead. “I like it rough.”
The bed dipped, and Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist. “Y/N can handle it. She is dating the two strongest, after all.” Both you and Suguru scoffed, relaxing in the growing silence. “Oh, by the way, Y/N.”
“Yeah?” You yawned, snuggling into Suguru’s chest as he turned the bedside lamp off.
“Did you bring home my mochi?”
In the dark of the room, you heard a thump and Satoru’s whine before Suguru pulled the three of you closer to him. “Satoru shut the fuck up about the mochi.”
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk men#jjk reader insert#jjk geto#jjk x you#reader x geto#suguru x reader#jjk suguru#geto x reader#geto suguru smut#jjk gojo smut#gojou satoru x y/n#jjk gojo#reader x gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader x geto#satosugu#satoru x reader#reader x satoru#jujutsu satoru#satoru x reader x suguru#satosugu reader smut#jjk reader smut#reader x suguru#suguru x you#gojo x y/n#jujutsu gojo
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WEST COAST. mdni. 18+.
pairings: older!natasha romanoff + f!maximoff!reader
summary: in which natasha agrees to help with a bake sale and you both stumble into admitting your feelings
warnings: legal age gap (natasha is 43 and reader is 22), pining lesbians, top!natasha, bottom!reader, finger sucking, light dom/sub dynamics, fingering, brief daddy kink
wc: 5.7k
a/n: thank you very much for this request, it gave me brain worms, also this is not proof read so :]
“Come on, Tash, please? Mom said you’d go with me because she’ll be busy with B and T’s school fair.” You practically beg the older woman, holding your cell phone carefully between your cheek and shoulder as you finish mixing up the ingredients for the cupcakes you were baking; it wouldn’t be the first time you dropped it in some cake batter if you weren’t careful. Half of them were for Billy and Tommy’s school fair and the other half were for the bake sale you were helping out with at your university. You had taken it upon yourself to do the baking this year because you knew your mother, Wanda, would be busy with work and getting your younger brothers ready for the fair. They were always very hyper and excitable, it took a lot to round them up. You didn’t really mind though, you did have some extra free time and you always got restless when you truly had nothing to do.
Natasha chuckles on the other end of the phone, “Your mom can say anything she wants, sweetheart. That doesn’t make it true, that just makes her Wanda.” She can practically hear you rolling your eyes as you groan at her response. She’s typing lazily with one hand as the other holds her cellphone, not paying nearly as much attention to her work as she should, especially with the deadlines coming up for this quarter. She can’t help it, though, you rarely call her like this, and when you do she wants to give you as much attention as she possibly can. “Besides, I thought this was something you could handle on your own. You’re a big girl, aren’t you? A little bake sale shouldn’t scare you.”
“Ugh, I’m not scared, you jerk. I just think it would be a little easier if I had someone to help me! And, I want to check out everything else too. I heard the haunted house this year is gonna be amazing! Peter’s working on it with MJ, I just have to go,” you put the phone down on the counter and put it on speaker, not wanting to risk dropping it while you pour the batter into the cupcake tray; that wouldn’t be the first time either. “It won’t be as much fun if I’m by myself, and Kate will be busy trying to make people want to join the archery club. Please? It’ll be so fun, I’ll even give you a cupcake for free.” You try to bargain with her, knowing that she’s always been a fan of your baking since she’s so terrible at it herself.
The bake sale was a part of your university’s fall celebration. Every October, they held a bake sale, a club fair, a haunted house, games and some other things in the week leading up to Halloween. This was your fourth one, and usually, you’d force your friend Kate to help you, but this year she’d agreed to help out with the archery club before you could ask. Not that you minded, because when you brought it up, your mother had absentmindedly suggested that maybe Natasha could help you since she couldn’t, and you would never say no to spending time with the redhead. You don’t know when exactly your schoolgirl crush on your mother’s friend turned into the very real thing it was now. You wouldn’t even say it was a crush because at this point you were certain you were damn near in love with the older woman, but you knew it was something you could never have. So, even as you and Natasha grew closer as you grew older, becoming something akin to friends now that you’ve reached your early twenties, all you could do was cherish the time you got together.
You can hear Natasha sigh before she responds, “Fine, but you better make it two or I’m leaving before you get to that haunted house.” You’re about to thank her profusely before she speaks again, effectively cutting you off before you even started, “Now, listen, I’d love to stay on the phone with you, but if I’m gonna take the day off tomorrow, I’ve got some work to finish. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”
You both bid each other goodbye and once you hang up the phone, you smile giddily. Natasha was going to take the day off tomorrow for you. Natasha, who was always busy with work, was going to take the day off so she could help you with your silly fall bake sale. “Oh my God… Oh my God!” You feel like a teenage girl with a crush again, getting so excited over something so simple, but you just can’t help it because you know if anyone else had asked, Natasha would have said no. You check the time to make sure none of your family members would be home soon before you call Kate. You just have to tell her about this. You have to get out all your nervous excitement and giddiness before you see Natasha tomorrow, you’ve always been afraid she could see right through you and your feelings. You didn’t need to be more obvious than usual tomorrow.
And, yeah, you do make two cupcakes specially for Natasha with red icing because you know it’s her favorite color even though the rest of the icing is orange and black.
-
Tomorrow comes quicker than both you and Natasha would like. You, because you still don’t know what to wear, and honestly, you’re a little worried Kate might come by and say something stupid. She’s always telling you to just put it out there and let Natasha know how you feel, but you can name at least a thousand reasons why that is the worst idea she’s ever had. Not including when she broke the church’s bell tower by accident when she was a freshman. First and foremost being that Natasha is your mother’s best friend, Natasha is twice your age, and ruining the little platonic relationship that you have with Natasha would hurt you more than when Karolina Dean moved away in the seventh grade when the two of you had what you would now call some sort of situationship.
And Natasha, because she doesn’t really know why she agreed to do this at all. She really does have work she needs to get done and there’s truly no reason she couldn’t have told you to ask one of your university friends to help you, she knows Kate isn’t your only friend, far from it. Well, the first part of that is a lie– she does know why. She knows exactly why she agreed to help you, she agreed because you asked. What she doesn’t know is what she’s going to do around you today with no one as buffer. No Wanda, no Billy, no Tommy, not even her sister Yelena, it’s just you and her. Sure, there would be other students on campus and coming up to the bake sale table, but in her mind, it’s still just you and her. She doesn’t like when it’s just you and her, because when it is everything feels too real. Suddenly, when it’s just the two of you, there’s no reason for her to hold back. And she knows she needs to hold back, she has to because there’s no world in which you would ever be allowed to be hers.
You’re holding up different sweaters in the mirror, trying to figure out which looks better with the particular shade of denim you’re wearing, when you hear a knock on your door and your mother walks in. “What’s up?” You turn your head to look at her before turning back to the mirror, still trying to decide. “The one with the brown in it,” she hums, walking over to sit on your bed. She’d always been able to tell just what you were thinking even if you didn’t ask. “You’re overthinking this sweater a lot. Are you sure it’s just Natasha that’s going to be with you today?” You weren’t prepared for her question and your eyes widen just the slightest and you hope she doesn’t notice. “Yeah, just Natasha. Kate’s doing her archery thing, and I think America is helping MJ and Peter with the haunted house.”
“Okay… Well, if there was someone, you know it’s okay for you to tell me, right?”
“Mom!” You groan, she seriously cannot be doing this right now. You’re a grown woman, for god’s sake… but you do appreciate how much she cares for you, you just can’t tell her. Ever.
“Alright, alright! I just wanted you to know. The boys and I are going to be leaving in a few minutes. You should come say goodbye to them, I think they’re going to stay at your father’s tonight...”
You make a noise of agreement, nodding. You know there was a ‘but’ that she wanted to say, but you both knew what it was without her saying it out loud. They were supposed to stay with Vision last weekend too, but that never happened. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Wanda squeezes your shoulder as she walks past you, and you wait until she’s shut the door before you let your head fall back slightly, staring up at the ceiling. You can’t help but think she’s known for a while, and you feel slightly nauseous at the fact. If she knows, maybe Natasha does too, and that just can’t happen.
Natasha arrives a few minutes after Wanda and the boys leave, opting to pull into the driveway when she sees the lack of her friend’s minivan in it. She told you she’d pick you up because it made no sense to take two cars and she had to pass your house to get to the university anyway. She takes two seconds before she turns the car off and gets out. She’s too old to be acting like an insecure teenager, she can do this. She’s dressed for the occasion, wanting to fit into the fall theme, wearing a nice knit sweater and a casual pair of pants.
Her heart squeezes when you open the door and you’re wearing your own knit sweater, she forgot how cute you looked during the fall. “Tasha! I’ll just be a few minutes, I have to get everything packed up and put my shoes on, but then we can go. Come in!” You’re out of her sight as quick as you stepped into it, wanting to get everything done as quickly as possible. You didn’t want to make her wait.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t make me stand out here the whole time.” Natasha steps inside, wiping any dirt off of the bottom of her boots on the doormat. She’d take them off, but there’s no point if you’ll just be leaving in a few minutes, anyway. Sue her. “Where are those cupcakes I was promised?”
“They’re on the counter, the red ones.” You call out from the kitchen, you weren’t expecting her so early or maybe you’d lost track of time after you said your goodbyes to everyone earlier. It’s a comfortable silence as you move around the room, packing everything up while Natasha eats her cupcakes, offering to help you every few minutes, but you just wave her off. She wouldn’t usually let you do that, but she was enjoying the food, so she’d settle for not letting you bring anything out to the car, she’d do that herself.
“Okay, done!” You say, proud of how quickly you’d gotten everything done, and turn to look at Natasha only to find her already looking at you. You feel heat rush to your cheeks and you avert your gaze quickly. “I can see that. You put your shoes on and I’ll bring everything out to the car.” She doesn’t phrase it as a question, but you open your mouth to object anyway, only to be interrupted before you can speak, “It’ll be faster this way, won’t it? Go put your shoes on, cupcake.”
The name leaves you grumbling as you huff and walk out of the kitchen, knowing she’s right. Natasha only chuckles before she starts bringing everything out to her car, making sure that nothing is going to accidentally get squished or have their containers tipped over. Once everything is settled, she grabs the latte from the cupholder in the front seat and meets you at your front door as you’re locking it, “This is for you because I know you spent way too long in the kitchen last night.”
“Non-dairy?”
“Of course.”
“Then thank you.” You take the cup from her, your breath hitching when your fingers brush and bring it up to your lips to take a drink. “Oh my God, this is good.”
“I figured you’d like it. Now, come on, weren’t you the one who said we needed to get there early?”
-
The car ride passes comfortably, with the occasional small talk, but mostly the radio playing quietly in the background while you sip on your latte and Natasha taps against the steering wheel in time with the song. You find that you don’t need to talk to enjoy your time with her, just being with her is enough. Feeling her presence around you is enough for you to feel relaxed and get that warm feeling that only Natasha can give you. When you arrive and Natasha finds somewhere to park, you take a quick scan of the quad. Thankfully, she was able to find close parking, which is a miracle, really. Your eyes light up when you spot Professor Potts standing near an empty table which you can now only assume is for the bake sale.
“I’ll be right back, I just have to go talk to Professor Potts for a second.” You point behind you with your thumb and then turn to leave. You only take two steps before you’re turning your head to look at Natasha again, “But, actually, since I know you won’t let me help, you can start bringing everything over to the table. I’ll be right next to it.”
Natasha laughs a little under her breath at how quickly you went from ‘you’re not carrying everything yourself, Tasha’ in the car to ‘actually, you do everything’ now that you were actually here. “Yes, Ma’am.” She teases, and you roll your eyes at her before starting to walk over.
It doesn’t actually take long for Natasha to bring everything over to the table, and by the time she’s done, you’re wrapping up your conversation with Professor Potts– Pepper, as you usually call her. You were just double checking the details of the bake sale and what the prices were supposed to be before you properly set everything up, but you didn’t think Natasha would be particularly interested in that conversation, so you figured she’d be happy enough to bring everything over while you talked. “Oh! Pepper, this is Natasha. Natasha, this is Pepper. She’s one of the professors who helps run the student societies!”
“It’s nice to meet you, Natasha. I didn’t realize Y/N was bringing her partner today.” Pepper smiles and holds her hand out for Natasha to shake.
“Oh, she’s n–”
“It’s nice to meet you as well. It was a bit of a last minute thing, something about Kate and archery, but I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Natasha shakes Pepper’s hand, mirroring the other woman’s smile.
“Speaking of Kate and archery, I’m sure you two can manage this just fine on your own, because I have to go find her and make sure that her ‘advertising’ of the archery club doesn’t include any actual arrows this time.” Pepper sighs, and Natasha just laughs like she knows exactly what it’s like to deal with Kate’s antics, before Pepper walks off.
You stare at Natasha wordlessly for a couple of seconds, thinking maybe she’s going to say something about the fact that she just implied the two of you are together, but instead she just raises an eyebrow at you. “Are you going to tell me how you want this table set up or am I just supposed to guess?”
“Oh– no, yeah, I’ll help.” Your cheeks heat up as you start telling her where you want everything placed and start to write the prices on the little chalkboard easel Pepper had put on the table. You quickly forget all about the incident as you start setting things up and your friends stop by the table to talk before going to tend to their own responsibilities. You don’t really pick up on the way they all point out Natasha’s presence, meaning to tease you, but you just tell them happily that she’d agreed to help because Kate couldn’t.
The rest of the bake sale goes on like this until you run out of things to sell, some people making comments about how good of a pair you and Natasha made or saying something about how they didn’t realize you’d have someone with you here today. You seemed to ignore it, not saying anything about it or giving any indication that it made you uncomfortable, but Natasha was quick to pick up on what the implications were. It didn’t help, she realized, that the color palettes the two of you chose to wear complimented each other so well that it looked a little like your outfits were matching.
The way in which you acted as if these comments were normal and that you might have expected them or even welcomed them makes Natasha’s brain go haywire. She can’t help but think of all the things this could possibly mean, but the final thought her brain lands on is that she can’t help but wonder if it would be wrong of her to bask in this for just a little bit. She had already not corrected Pepper when she implied you were together– though, that was more so because she didn’t want to embarrass either of you. So would it be so wrong for her to lean into that? To let everyone think you were a couple? To treat you like you were her’s for just a little bit? She doesn’t think so.
You’re in almost a daze as the rest of the day goes by. Natasha takes you to the haunted house like you wanted and holds your hand the whole time so you don’t get too scared. If you had known Yelena was helping inside the house, you might not have wanted to go so bad. She’s still holding your hand when you exit the haunted house, and she continues to hold it when you talk to Peter and MJ when you spot them outside. She lets go when she gets a phone call and gives you an apologetic smile and excuses herself, but not before giving your hand a little squeeze, and you feel your heart leap in your chest. All of this feels too natural, being with Natasha like this. Holding her hand, laughing with her, walking with her. It’s now when you realize just how close you and Natasha have been all day and you stumble in the middle of your sentence while talking to MJ.
“You okay there?”
“Yeah!” It comes out too loud and too quickly, “yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, you know. Long day and late night last night baking.”
“Mm… Nothing to do with your woman over there?” MJ points not so subtly over at where Natasha is currently talking on the phone.
Your eyes go wide, “She’s not– she’s not my woman, MJ!”
“You’ve been holding hands this whole time and she’s… here instead of at work,” she gives you a look like she doesn’t believe you at all, “seems like your woman to me.”
“Yeah! Mr. Stark only ever takes time away from work if Ms. Potts asks him to and you know how they are, Y/N.” Peter chimes in.
You feel your face go red hot and you groan, “can we please stop talking about this right now?”
“Stop talking about what?” You jump when Natasha suddenly appears beside you and wraps her arm around your waist.
“Oh, we were just talking about how scared Y/N got in the haunted house.” MJ lies smoothly before giving you a look.
“Yes, but now we’re done talking about that and we should get back to our table to clean up properly.” You change the subject, trying not to focus on Natasha’s arm wrapped around you, but it’s lighting your body on fire and it’s very hard to focus on anything else. She squeezes your side softly and nods, “sure. It was nice talking to you, MJ, Peter. Good job on the haunted house.”
You barely let Peter get out a “Thanks, Ms. Romanoff!” before you’re slipping out of Natasha’s hold to grab her hand and practically dragging her away from them. She heard the conversation starting from you stuttering over the implication that you’re together, but for you, she can pretend she didn’t hear a thing. So, instead of bringing it up, she gives your hand a soft squeeze. “It’s okay that you were scared, you know? You don’t need to be embarrassed, Yelena can be pretty terrifying when you actually get a look at her.”
“Tasha!” You scold, swatting at her shoulder, “don’t be mean to your sister,” but you can’t help but giggle just a little bit. She only chuckles, and despite the way you’re both struggling to decide whether to bring your feelings up or not, you settle into the comfortable existence you share with each other.
Before you know it, you’re in Natasha’s car again and on your way to her house. She said she just had a couple of things to do in her home office before she would take you home again, but she would try to be as quick as possible. Technically speaking, your mother should be done with Billy and Tommy’s school fair and you could just ask her to come pick you up, but you don’t tell Natasha that. You would much rather get to spend some extra time with the older woman (and you love the way her house smells) than go home and inevitably spiral as you think about the day and everything that’s happened with her before calling Kate and spilling everything.
When you get there, she tells you to make yourself comfortable and help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you want to before she disappears into her office at the end of the hall. You settle down on her couch and scroll through your phone for a few minutes before you start to get bored. You consider the fact that Natasha is working on her day off and think that maybe she’d appreciate a coffee, especially if she didn’t have to make it herself, so you stand up and wander into the kitchen. It’s nice and modern, but it has a few personal touches that make it distinctly Natasha. You notice that the coffee maker is right on top of the counter and you look in the cupboard for a mug before you get started on making her coffee.
You’re pretty sure that the only thing Natasha likes in her coffee is a little bit of sugar, so you take a little look around the pantry until you find some, and when the coffee is ready, you pour it into the mug before adding a little sugar. You hum to yourself and make sure you haven’t spilled anything on the counter, picking up the mug and then starting the path to Natasha’s office. This all feels so natural, that the usual nervousness of doing something like this for the older woman doesn’t even creep in until you actually see her.
You knock on the door, waiting a second before opening it with your free hand. “Tasha?” You push the door open and Natasha looks up from the paperwork on her desk to greet you with a smile. “You get bored out there, sweetheart?” She puts her glasses up on the top of her head and turns to look at you properly.
“I. um, made you coffee. I figured you might want some since you weren’t expecting to have to work today.” You walk towards her desk and when you’re close enough, she takes the mug from you and leans up to press a soft kiss to your lips as a sign of her gratitude, “thank you, sweetheart.”
Your brain short circuits.
She almost drops the mug onto the floor.
You just look at her, frozen, for a few seconds as you watch the wheels turning in her head. She puts the mug down on the desk carefully as she tries to figure out what exactly she’s going to say now. She hadn’t even really thought about it before it happened, it just felt so natural and like something she’s supposed to and allowed to do. But in reality, kissing you has never been any of those things. She’s never done that before even that one time you got so drunk, you practically begged her to. She’s been very careful with her actions and with restraining herself, but now? What does she do now?
“Natasha...” Your voice comes out almost like a whisper and for some reason, you’re a little afraid that she’ll tell you to leave. That she had just been caught in the moment and she would never knowingly kiss you under any other circumstance.
Natasha opens her mouth to speak, but then she gets a proper look at you standing nervously in front of her and she mutters a ‘fuck it’ under her breath. “Come here, baby.” She pushes her desk chair out slightly and guides you into her lap without any kind of resistance from you. You fidget in her lap, not used to this kind of proximity with the older woman. “I’m gonna kiss you again, alright?”
With those words, it’s like a switch flips and you surge forward to crash your lips against hers. She lets out a little surprised noise before she kisses you back properly, moving her lips against yours and resting her hands on your hips. She lets you lead for a bit until you get a bit too bold for her liking and she grips your hips harder as a warning. She was in charge, not you, and she was going to make that very clear.
Almost immediately she’s dominating the kiss, and you tangle your fingers in her hair. Her glasses fall off somewhere behind her, but neither of you really care enough to check where. You only pull away because you need to breathe, and when you do, your chest is heaving and you’re a little dazed. Natasha coos and reaches up to cup your cheek, rubbing her thumb against your soft skin. “Do you need a little break, sweetheart, hm? You look a bit flustered.” She teases before swiping her thumb across your bottom lip, and you grumble slightly, “I’m not–”
Natasha pushes her thumb into your mouth and presses down on your tongue before you can finish, “ah, ah, don’t talk back to me, Y/N,” she scolds, and you whine quietly. You want to bite down on her thumb in retaliation for the use of your actual name, but you know that will only make things worse for you. Not that things are particularly bad right now, you’d probably take anything Natasha gave you, but you’d prefer her cooing over you and doting on you at the moment.
Instead, you suck softly on her thumb and you know it’s the right decision when she hums in approval. It was almost too easy for the two of you to fall into this rhythm, like you were meant for each other. You both knew exactly what the other wanted and you’d do anything to please her while she’d do anything to keep you happy. Her other hand squeezes softly at your hip before it begins playing with the waistband of your jeans. “We’ve had a long day, huh? You did so well at the bake sale, you deserve a reward, don’t you?”
You nod, looking at her pleadingly and whining softly. Your clothes feel too warm and you want her to touch you, and she’s wearing too many clothes, and you want to touch her, but her thumb is in your mouth and you can’t just push her away. So, you opt for looking like a kicked puppy until she understands what you want.
“What is it, hm?” Natasha pulls her thumb out of your mouth and you chase after it slightly until you realize that maybe she wants you to actually tell her and you open your mouth to speak. Your breath catches in your throat, though, when her other hand trails down and cups your clothed cunt. “Do you want me to touch you, is that it?”
“Tasha, please.” You whimper. You can barely feel anything through your jeans and it’s already driving you crazy. You just hope she’s not the type to tease.
“Alright, alright, arms up.” Natasha chuckles and waits for you to follow her instruction before slipping your sweater off over your head. Her eyes darken as she takes in your bra clad chest and she greedily gropes at your breasts for a moment. “So pretty,” she mumbles, leaning in to kiss softly at your neck.
You moan softly and you clutch at her sweater. Natasha’s hands on you feel better than you ever could have imagined, and you’ve spent more time than you care to admit imagining this. She’s not too rough, but she’s not too soft either. She touches you with the perfect amount of force and it makes your head spin.
Her hands trail down your chest and then your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before her fingertips dance across the waistband of your jeans. “You looked so cute today in your little fall outfit. Do you know how hard it was for me to keep my hands to myself?” Natasha pulls back, her skilled fingers now moving to unbutton your jeans. “You make things so hard for me, sweetheart. It’s like you’re trying to torture me.”
“I just like to look nice for you, Tasha. Is that wrong?”
“Up.” She taps your thigh, and you stand so that she can tug your jeans down for you to step out of. Normally, you’d be a lot more shy about undressing like this for the first time, but right now you just can’t seem to care.
Natasha pulls you back down into her lap and then pulls you in for a kiss. Her hands find purchase on your hips and her tongue finds its way into your mouth, easily gaining dominance over you. You moan into her mouth as your fingers tangle in her hair again, trying to pull her impossibly closer.
And then finally, after what seems like forever, she slips one hand inside your panties. The gasp you let out when her middle finger ghosts over your slit is like music to her ears, and she pulls away from the kiss so she can see your reactions properly.
“No teasing, Tasha, please.” You whine, your hands dropping to her shoulders. “Shh, I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.” She slowly begins rubbing circles against your clit and you’re all whimpers and whines as she does.
She takes her time, using her other hand to tug the cups of your bra under your breasts so she can play with your nipples, pinching them and rolling them between her fingers all while keeping the same steady pace in slow circles around your clit. She basks in the noises she’s able to pull from you even with the lightest of touches. She considers taking you to her bedroom so she can fuck you properly, but she think she wants ot save that for another day. This will have to do for now.
“Inside, please, Tasha.” You whimper pathetically, hands bunched up in her sweater as you try to be good like she wants you to. She takes pity on you when she pushes two fingers into your drooling hole. She curses under her breath, “God, you’re so wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me, huh?”
You nod, desperately wanting her to move her fingers. “All for you, Tasha.” You attempt to bounce up and down on her fingers, but her free hand moves down and holds you still. “Please, I can’t– mph!” You interrupt your own begging when Natasha begins thrusting her fingers in and out, the angle forcing the heel of her palm to press against your clit. You bite down on your bottom lip to stifle your moans, embarrassed about how loud you’re being already.
“That’s it, baby.” Natasha breathes, taking in the sight in front of her with eager eyes, “You take my fingers so well, sweetheart.” She praises, curling her fingers inside of you. You reward her with a particularly high pitched moan and you just barely notice the pink tint of her cheeks. It seems she's enjoying this just as much as you are. Something about having you like this drives Natasha wild. Being able to hear your moans and see the expression on your face makes her almost lightheaded with desire.
“Oh God, Natasha.” You moan loudly when she grinds the heel of her palm against your clit and presses against the sensitive spot inside you at the same time. Natasha coos, and it doesn’t take long with her fucking you like that for you to get close to the edge. “Tash– I’m gonna– Please–” You beg, pleading for something you’re not even sure of.
“Shh, I’ve got you, sweetheart. Be a good girl for Daddy.”
Natasha’s words tip you over the edge with the help of her skilled fingers and she guides you through your orgasm, letting you ride it out before pulling out her fingers and bringing them up to her mouth.
“Fuck, I don’t know if I’m done with you just yet. I might have to take you to bed instead of taking you to dinner.”
#alice's fics !#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x fem reader#natasha romanov smut#natasha romanov imagine#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x female#natasha romanov x reader
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I Want It All: Part 1
Part 2, Part 3; AO3 Link
Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader
Flirting, Light Angst, Longing
Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It's easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can't pretend anymore?
A/N: This turned into a monstrosity. For my own sanity I need to break it up into three parts. I also apologize in advanced, the stuff in the preview won’t pop up until part 2. And please, REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!!!
Word Count: 4.8K
The day really couldn’t decide whether it was going to be terrible or tolerable.
On the one hand, it had been pouring rain for hours, leaving you and your party drenched as you searched for some place dry to sleep. On the other hand, you were able to find an inn with more than enough rooms to accommodate all of you. On the other, other hand, rooms cost money, something that was in short supply.
“How much does that make?” Karlach asked, placing her share into the pile.
Gale counted out the coins. “Enough for our own rooms, but not much in the way of food.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Hold on, this can’t be right. Who forgot to pitch in?”
All eyes turned suspiciously to Astarion.
He raised his hands in surrender. “I put down enough for the room. Food is something…you all have to deal with.”
Lae’zel gave him a hard look, the threat obvious on her features.
“We could always share a room or two,” Shadowheart cut in. “That will at least hold us over until we can find a way to make more coin.”
A devilish smirk formed on the vampire’s lips as his eyes turned to you. “I’m not opposed to the idea. Certainly would make it easier for me to get a little midnight snack.”
You gave a theatrical sigh. “Not tonight dear. I have a headache.”
“Teasing minx.”
“Can the pair of you not for ten seconds?” Wyll complained.
You bit back a laugh, turning your gaze to the dining area of the tavern. Gods you could smell something delicious cooking over the fireplace. When was the last time you had a proper hot meal?
It was then you turned your eyes to one of the empty corners. The solution to the issue of food suddenly became obvious.
“Not to worry everyone,” you announced, swiping the coins from Gale’s hand. “Dinner is on me.”
Before anyone could speak, you stepped towards the bar, making a point to put on your best smile.
A elderly halfling woman regarded you as you approached. “What can I get you deary?”
“Actually it’s a matter of what I can do for you,” you said. “I see you have some instruments sitting much too idly.”
The old lady shrugged. “Not really. Night like this you don’t need music to bring people in.”
Your smile faltered a moment, but you pushed on. “That may be, but nothing keeps people drinking longer and deeper than a good song.”
She gave you a disparaging look. “Don’t tell me, bard right?”
“Guilty.”
“If you don’t have money for the rooms, we don’t comp that.”
You waved the comment away. “The rooms aren’t the issue. However, if you’re willing to part with a cauldron of stew, I’ll consider it payment enough.”
Her eyes remained wary, but you knew you had her as a twitch came to her lips. “That’ll do. Thirty minute set. You eat after.”
She held out a hand which you took, striking the bargain.
It didn’t take long after to secure the rooms. They were nothing fancy, but a mattress was a mattress and with the guarantee of true privacy for the first time in weeks, none of you were complaining.
“How’s this about food then?” Karlach asked, taking a seat at one of the few tables large enough to accommodate all seven of you.
“All taken care of,” you assured. “Just need to pluck out a quick set and we can eat.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Astarion said. “I don’t mind it myself, but your songs have a tendency to be a bit, well…destructive. Frankly I’m surprised you didn’t use that cutting mouth of yours to simply insult the woman into feeding you.”
“As it turns out, I have a little thing called restraint. Unlike some people,” you countered.
“Oh trust me my dear, I’m well aware of that.”
You rolled your eyes, deciding to ignore the slight twist of guilt in your stomach.
He couldn’t seem to help making those kinds of jabs ever since you had declined his offer for a midnight tryst; always alluding to the theme of “untapped passions” or “delayed gratification”. It was starting to wear on you.
Gods knew you liked him. He had so many qualities you admired; insight, intelligence, charm, the way he could make you laugh. The more you learned, the more you wanted to know and the more you were willing to give for answers. The trouble was his idea of a night of passion and yours were so very, very different.
A part of you knew the honest thing to do would be to spell it out for him. You understood him well enough to know he’d respect those boundaries. At the same time, you didn’t want to lose this, whatever this was, between you. If suddenly that night of passion was off the table, all those moments, all his attentions would be lost. He’d be a friend, certainly, but nothing more.
It was selfish. You knew it was. You couldn’t imagine finding the words to explain it to him. It would leave you too exposed, too vulnerable to that insistent burning want that had a way of tearing you apart from the inside out. It was better to leave him to his assumptions of suppression and prudishness. You’d keep your dignity at least.
Pushing those thoughts away, you took your place in the unobtrusive corner and the spare violin waiting for you.
A smile spread across your face as you tucked the familiar instrument under your chin. Since this whole adventure of yours began, you had little opportunity to apply your skills. Music had always been a source of comfort to you. It felt right to indulge in it now, some place safe and filled with warm firelight.
With a flick of your wrist you began, the resonating tone of the strings filling the room.
You allowed your eyes to close as you slipped into the melody. The sounds of conversation and laughter fell to an idle murmur. It was a simple tune, something easy to match the atmosphere, but one you loved all the same. You always found it best to start with something familiar. If the patrons could see you get lost in the music, they inevitably followed.
As the first song came to an end, you chanced a quick glance at your audience.
Most of the patrons still prattled on, but enough turned your direction to encourage you to try something a little more daring.
Your fingers flew, igniting a livelier rhythm. More eyes found their way to you. A pleasant bubbling sensation filled you. They were falling right into your hands.
Rising to your feet, you glided across the floor, moving with the music towards the center of the room.
Patrons shuffled out of the way, transfixed by your performance. Even your companions had stopped their chatter.
Karlach and Shadowheart’s faces lit up in delight. A smile touched the corner of Gale’s mouth. Even Lae’zel and Wyll looked on with admiration at your skills. As for Astarion…Astarion just stared.
You couldn’t quite read what was going on behind those scarlet eyes. It was a look you had caught him wearing more than once, always blinked away before you could fully comprehend its meaning. All you knew was how it made that dangerous hope spark in your chest.
He caught you looking and quickly morphed his expression to its familiar smirk. The bastard even had the audacity to wink.
You rolled your eyes pretending not to have seen. It was all part of the game after all. He pretended to care, you pretended not to fall for it.
A lute suddenly joined you from one of the corners, strumming its way into a new song.
You turned as a cheer rose, encouraging the intrusive lutist forward. He was human by the look of him and certainly skilled in his own right. He took a moment to embellish your solo before taking over with one of his own. Soon enough you joined the conversation again with a counter melody. It wasn’t as clean as you would have liked it. The lad clearly had meant to upstage you, but you made sure to put him in line, allowing the impromptu duet to end in some kind of harmony.
You transitioned easily to a new song as he took a seat, bowing to you as he did.
Remembering your showmanship, you made a point to bow in return, schooling your expression into a flirtatious grin before pulling away. That earned the man a round of cheers from his friends and a few obvious oohs from the crowd; exactly as you intended.
You continued on with the remainder of your set. Requests were shouted from the audience, all the pieces of music moving to and from your fingers with practiced grace. By the end of it, your arms were exhausted, but your face hurt from smiling. Gods you had missed this.
As you took your bow, applause followed you back to your table as well as a handful of extra coin.
“That was amazing!” Karlach said, beaming at you. “How’d you learn to play like that?”
“Years of practice,” you said, with pride. “Had to find an honest living somehow.”
“Well, it was beautifully done,” Gale added. “Maybe next time we make camp you could grace us with another performance. Provided we’re not all about to die of course.”
You shot him a grin. “I could be persuaded.”
The wizard turned his gaze away, his lips turning into a knowing smirk. “You’ve been unnaturally quiet Astarion. Been bewitched have you?”
The vampire blinked as if coming out of deep thought. It was only in those last moments did you realize just how intently he had been looking in your direction.
“Yes,” he said, a little stiffly, “you were quite…good.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Be careful there. You wouldn’t want to overwhelm me with praise.”
He regarded you a moment before a sly smile turned at his lips.
You were almost relieved. That look you understood at least.
“If it’s praise you crave, you need only ask,” he purred. “You, my dear, are an unparalleled talent. Your beauty and grace alone should have brought you into the presence of kings. A true diamond in the rough.”
You snorted out a laugh.
“No good?” he continued. “How about this one; if I die tomorrow and the gods grant me mercy it will be your song that brings me into the beyond.”
You gave him a slow clap. “Brava.”
He inclined his head in a little bow. “But seriously, you were good and you didn’t even destroy the furniture. Admittedly though, I wouldn’t have minded if he had met with a little accident.”
You followed Astarion’s eye line to the lute player chatting with his friends. He perked up as he felt eyes on him. Without the distraction of playing, you could easily tell he was handsome in that sun kissed farmer’s son kind of way. Probably had most of the girls in the village swooning.
He raised a tankard to you in toast.
You met the gesture in acknowledgment.
“He wasn’t that bad,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.
“He was the worst part of your performance,” Astarion insisted.
You knew he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t help but have your fun.
“Oh my darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.
“Certainly I am,” he said, clutching his own chest in turn. “He’s the only person I’ve seen you willing to make sweet music with. And judging from his looks, he would have much preferred it to be a private performance.”
You didn’t bother looking over to the other table to see if he was telling the truth. It didn’t matter either way. It never did. Your answer was always the same.
“He’ll have to keep waiting.” You shrugged. “Not my type.”
Astarion’s eyes narrowed slightly, leaning in closer. “And what exactly is?”
You didn’t answer, deciding instead to take a long sip of your ale.
He continued to eye you, his lips pursed as if trying to solve a puzzle. After a few moments he let out an exasperated sigh.
“Fine, keep your secrets, but I will figure it out eventually.”
Your lip twitched up into a half smile. “You may certainly try.”
It was then one of the staff brought out a truly enormous cauldron of the most delicious smelling stew you had smelled in your life.
You didn’t think to wait as you greedily poured a ladle full into your empty bowl. Two full days on the road with nothing but a handful of nuts and berries to sustain you had taken its toll. The rest of the group soon followed, each taking their share. You ate yours so quickly that by the time the ladle had made the circle, you were grabbing for seconds.
“Hungry are we?” Astarion observed.
You paused mid bite, heat rising in your cheeks. You took a quick look at everyone else. Nobody seemed to have noticed how you inhaled your food. They were content enough in their own bowls and conversation. Carefully you swallowed before self consciously setting down the spoon in your hand.
“I am the one who worked for this,” you said, more defensively than you intended.
Astarion regarded you with a raised eyebrow. “Even so, it’s not going to disappear the second you look away.”
“Says you.”
“Clever,” he said, dryly. “Devastating really. What’s next? Are you going to hit me with an “oh yeah” or Gods forbid a “your mother”?”
“I was actually leaning towards, “leave me to eat in peace you pompous jackass”.”
“Oh yes, that’s much better.”
You breathed out a frustrated sigh. Hopefully it would distract from your obvious embarrassment. You had thought you’d tucked those bad habits away.
Years of living on your own had left you going to bed hungry more times than you cared to remember. There was a time food had disappeared from your plate if you didn’t eat it fast enough. Of course, things got better. You found music and people willing to listen. It gave you fire and shelter and a contented stomach on good nights. Still, there were the bad ones and old instincts took over. It took practice not to be as ravenous as you knew your nature to be.
“Do I need to worry about your hunger?” you asked, deciding to change the subject.
“Oh you of all people should know by now. I’m insatiable,” he crooned.
Your eyes narrowed, unamused. “I’m being serious, when’s the last time you ate?”
He shrugged. “Few days. Last time I fed on you I imagine.”
Your stomach gave a sudden guilt ridden twist. If that were the case, it had to have been at least three days ago.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because as much as the image of you swooning in my arms is appealing, I’d rather it be over my charms rather than blood loss.” He nodded his head towards the bowl. “From my own experience hunger and restraint don’t mix.”
You tried to fight it. You really did. Years of instinct and reason told you not to fall for the softness in his eyes and voice. He simply didn’t want to explain a dead body to the rest of the party. It wasn’t out of some concern for your well being. And you absolutely could not allow yourself to believe he recognized the desperation in your actions and not pass judgment. If you believed that, you’d be in much more danger than you already were.
“Excuse me deary,” an elderly voice asked. “I was wondering if I could have another moment of your time.”
You turned to see the barkeeper at your shoulder.
“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Of course.”
You moved to stand, but she gestured you down. It was then you noticed she was carrying a case. It was worn with age, but clearly lovingly maintained as the edges shone with intricate gold inlay.
“I know you already paid for your meal,” she said. “But I was hoping I could ask for one more performance tonight.”
She opened the case to reveal the most beautiful violin you’d ever laid eyes on. The wood was a carefully polished chestnut interrupted with carvings which matched those on the case. The strings shone like gold and the pegs carved marble. You may not be a trained wizard, but could feel the magic pulsing from every square inch of it.
“What is this?”
“It was my father’s,” the woman explained. “He was a bard you see, best in these parts from what people told. He had so many stories and songs. Built it himself to help tell them. Try as I might though, I could never get it to play as sweetly. I was hoping you might.”
You looked to your companions. The obvious curiosity played on all their faces.
With a cautious hand, you plucked one of the strings.
It was perfectly in tune. The sound echoed, rich and vibrant even with so light a touch. The instrument itself seemed to glow as if happy to be played once again.
Slowly, you lifted it from the case, taking the bow in hand. You placed it on the strings and with an exhale drew the first notes.
It was the loveliest sound you’d ever heard.
The vibrations resinated in your fingers, moving through your arm and into your chest.
You decided to start simple, a handful of scales to get the intonations just right.
Color danced across the strings, rippling from your fingers like raindrops in a pond.
“Woah,” Karlach said, her eyes widening in awe. “Are you doing that?”
“No,” you said, pausing your motions, as you let it fall slack in your hands.
The elderly halfing smiled. “My father always said an artist puts their truth into every stroke of the bow. This here helps one’s heart shine. I saw the way you performed earlier, you’re not afraid to play what’s true.”
Color rose in your cheeks, unsure how to take such praise. “Thank you.”
She just smiled, nodding towards the instrument. “Keep playing. See what happens.”
You were suddenly aware of the rest of the party’s eyes turning expectantly towards you. Some with caution, some with anticipation, and one pair of red eyes with unreadable intentions.
Knowing there was no way you were getting out of this now, you rose from your seat, placing the violin securely beneath your chin.
You started slow, picking a tune every beginner memorized in their first lessons.
The music sparkled in front of your eyes, twirling outward in melodic waves.
The hum of conversation began to die down as you spotted the barkeeper beckon for silence.
You continued on, moving to something a little more complex, allowing yourself to let the rest of the room blur in the peripheries.
The sound of boots on cobblestones met your ears. Glancing down you saw stone where hardwood floors had been.
You took another step.
The stones followed.
Around you the room fluctuated between firelight and the brightness of morning. Looking up you could see a clear sky had replaced the hatched ceiling.
A smile spread across your face as you stepped away from your bench.
As if waiting for your queue the rest of the bar quickly moved tables and chairs out of the way, clearing the center floor.
The sun followed as the cobblestones spread out in front of you like a stream. With every flourish, finer details were added. You changed the direction allowing a building to form beside you, then another and another. Images of people faded in and out like memories, coming and going with the flow of the music.
You never felt anything like this before. The strings sang inside you, drawing out a melody you knew was there, but had always managed to slip from your grasp.
You surrendered to its current, following it deeper and deeper until all you could see, all you could touch was the music.
Behind your eyes the streets began to turn and change. Buildings loomed large overhead. You could hardly see the stars. A cold swept through your clothes, the chords of the melody vibrating with the shivers in your hands. The world was so much bigger and you were so much smaller.
No instrument laid in your hands, but still the music played on as if you had slipped into a dream.
You continued to walk unsure of where your feet were carrying you until something warm pressed against your back. Light reflected behind you, casting long shadows on the ground. A melody played, soft and soothing against your own. You turned towards it as the voices of long forgotten conversation and laughter accompanied the strings of a quartet.
Your chords and theirs brushed up against each other, a new light shining in the darkness, but just as soon as it began, it moved away, leaving you on your own once again.
You continued on, brushing against others. Sparks would fly, fire would ignite only for them it fade in front of your eyes.
Your own melody grew more desperate, moving and shaping itself to match whoever you found next only just able to cling onto the barest sense of itself.
An ache grew in your chest as you wandered, always searching, never finding. Something warm trailed down your cheeks. You let it flow, unable to stop. You wouldn’t end the story here, even as swirls of blues and blacks surrounded you. They wrapped around your body, filling your vision and squeezing tight around you until you felt the air being pushed out of your lungs. There was nothing else. Even the music had gone dead.
For what felt like a moment and eternity you sat there, alone in the dark.
A voice came to you then, but it didn’t come from the instrument tucked somewhere under your chin. No melody accompanied it. It was so far away. Something about it was so familiar. It spoke your name like a desperate prayer. You reached out for it.
The air itself moved around you as if you had plucked the very strings of the universe.
A low hum came next bringing with it two pin pricks of light. A red fire glowed in the darkened space, growing until they sat as two eyes burning in the air.
You cocked your head to the side. Your own song started again, cautious as it curled around the eyes, examining them from different angles.
The eyes crinkled at the edges, amused by your persistence.
With a blur of motion, it turned to the side allowing a profile to form and beginning an enticing melody of its own.
You and the face took turns, calling and answering in playful antagonism.
The lines of light continued downward as its counter melody grew in strength against your own, forming the outline of a man.
He stepped towards you, his own head turning to the side as yours had done before, examining you from every angle.
After a moment, he bowed. You curtseyed. And then you did what only felt natural. You danced.
The heat of his touch burned your skin, but you didn’t dare pull away. You had been cold for so long you hadn’t even known you were cold. Even when it became too much, the fear of the darkness kept you in his light.
The man in turn held you close, his song teasing against your own. So unlike the duet from before, this was a true conversation, the pair of you giving and taking in equal measure. You didn’t want it to stop, holding the feeling tighter and tighter until you felt the pulse of his fire inside you.
You looked up to find the embers of his eyes pouring into you. He moved your hand to his chest. A heart pumped beneath and you knew then it wasn’t his own. Just as you had taken from him, he had taken from you in equal measure.
His face came into focus, forming a familiar knowing smirk and playful scarlet eyes.
He stepped back from you, his hand holding yours as he bowed, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.
The song faded away and you were once again in your own body, a violin tucked carefully beneath your chin.
You blinked your eyes open to find the tavern standing as it had been moments ago. Patrons surrounded you, their eyes wide and mouths open. You glanced around the room, quickly finding your companions. Horror struck you as you read their expression.
They’d seen it. All of it.
Before you could register what was happening a wave of applause erupted from the crowd. People began to cheer. You heard awed whoops and hollers. The adoration was overwhelming and completely miss timed. You needed to lie down. You needed to think.
Numbly you bowed before making your way to the side of the room where the barkeeper stood.
You held the instrument out to her, unable to look her directly in the eye.
“Thank you for letting me play this,” you said.
To your surprise she didn’t take it, instead pushing your hands away with a shake of her head.
“Keep it love,” she said. “After seeing all that, feels wrong to take it away from you. You’ve more than earned the right to it.”
You wanted to argue. You wanted to scream. You wanted to curse her for ever asking you to touch the damned thing. Somehow you managed to swallow all of that down, mumbling another thank you before slowly turning towards your party.
There was still a chance to salvage this. Astarion hadn’t seen his own reflection in centuries. He didn’t know what he looked like. You could play this whole thing up to artistic license. You just carried a general feeling of desperate longing. No need for you to clarify its direction.
Making a point to keep your head down, you put the violin away and slid it over to Gale.
“Feel free to eat this one if you want,” you said. It was meant to be a joke, but even you could feel it fall flat.
“I don’t think I can do that,” Gale said, his tone holding nothing but sympathy.
“It really was lovely,” Wyll said, gently.
“Beautiful really,” Shadowheart added.
Your jaw tightened, caught between the urge to scream or weep. Why couldn’t everybody do you the favor of the lifetime and forget they saw anything.
“Personally I don’t understand your choice in the spawn, but–” Lae’zel started only to be hit hard in the arm by Karlach.
“What?” she snapped.
Your whole body cringed, knowing exactly what was coming next.
“That was…me?”
You were in hell. This was hell. You didn’t have to look up to see Astarion’s self satisfied expression. His tone made it clear enough.
In a flash you stepped back from the table, putting as much distance between you and the party as possible.
“I need to go,” you managed. “Goodnight.”
You sprinted out of the tavern, taking two steps of the time to the upper rooms. You didn’t stop until your door was firmly slapped behind you.
Your breaths came hard as your heart pounded in your chest. Honestly you didn’t know how you locked the door. Your hands were shaking so badly as tears blurred your vision. All the emotions the violin had pulled from you returned, overwhelming you in their intensity.
The instrument had done as advertised. It had shown the truth of your heart, putting it on display for the whole world to see. Gods you were an idiot. Why did you even pick up that damned thing?
You kept your ears open, listening as everyone made their way to their rooms. Their murmurs never made it past the walls, but the way they paused as they passed your door made it clear enough they were discussing you. Thankfully they were kind enough to leave you be.
Counting, you waited until all six doors shut before rising to your feet.
As you did, you felt a small pull at the back of your mind. A vision of a door number and the feeling of anticipation sat on your tongue. The invitation was clear enough; Astarion was waiting for you.
You wanted to ignore it, but you knew you couldn’t. There was no use in pretending any longer. The game was over and you would have to face the consequences.
With a steeling breath, you walked out the door. You could only hope Astarion wouldn’t hate you when it was all over.
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