#i just keep giving myself shit for having to take money out of my savings 😭 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reneesghostinthelivingroom · 7 months ago

Note

Hello! How are you? Hope you're doing good. I was wondering if I could request a Poly!Pastics x reader where the reader is a HUGE people pleaser and R does everything for everyone and it got so bad to where R stayed awake for three weeks straight to have time to make everyone happy. The girls have enough and force force their girlfriend to sleep and not stress over other people?

Sorry if it's too much or top specific.

Whats One More?||

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(i myself am poly!)

|| Warnings: swearing, super long, Reader's absolutely exhausted, Regina being Regina, comfort (i dont think there's too many, if i missed something lmk)

|| Summary: Reader keeps helping out everyone to the point where it begins to effect her sleep schedule. Ms. Norbury notices and brings it to the attention of the plastics, who comfort Reader and get Reader to sleep.

Requests open!

Started: April 20th

Finished: April 21st

~~~

To say you were a people pleaser would be an understatement. You weren't sure if there was a better word to describe it, maybe... doormat? You couldn't say no to save your life. It was a genuine problem that often spiralled beyond your control. Well, you could control it. If you just said no. But that was mean. You hated the thought of anyone hating you, so you worked overtime to make sure that never happened.

Today was no different.

"Hey, Y/N! Wait up!" Shane Omen yelled your name from across the hall as you stood at your locker, making you internally groan. You didn't like Shane but you never showed it. You forced out a smile as you looked at him.

"What's up, Shane?" You asked, keeping your tone your signature calm one. As opposed to the internal screaming that was going on in your head. Why couldn't he just leave you alone? You had been having an amazing day before he showed up.

"Mind doing my homework for me? I'm just so busy this week that I have no time for it. Oh, and my buddies too. I'll pay ya." He smirked at you, clearly trying to use whatever charm he could muster. This wasn't the first time it's happened. His friend had walked up next to him, holding a large stack of papers up to his chest which you could only assume was the entirety of Shane's friend groups overdo homework.

You held back a sigh.

"Yeah. When do you need it done by?" You asked. Reluctantly. You hated the thought of doing all that extra work, but then again you hated the thought of someone hating you more than you hated the idea of doing the homework. So you'd do it. On top of your own you already had to do, plus you had promised Karen you'd help her out with hers.

"This Friday." He replied, gesturing for his friend to give you the work. Which he did. He practically shoved it into you.

The sudden weight added to your binders almost made you stumble, this Friday? It was fucking Wednesday. That gave you two nights. Shit, you'd have to pull all nighters in order to get this done, your own work, AND help Karen. Maybe Karen should come first, since she was her girlfriend. Restart.

Karen, your own work, and Shane's shit. That's the order you gathered in your head. You could help Karen out tonight, get your own work done after and get it all done in one session so you could focus the rest of the day tomorrow on Shane's stuff. Yeah, that could work.

"Yeah... I got it. You don't have to pay." You smiled at him, he gave your shoulder a playful nudge. Sure, the money for your time would be nice. But you hated the thought of taking someone's money. Even if it was Shane Omen's.

"You're amazing, Y/N!" Shane and his buddy walked off, high fiving each other and clasping their hands together with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and readjusted the papers and your binder with your knee. Sighing at the sight of the stack you now held.

Finale bell went, showing the end of the day. Which you were grateful for.

You moved the papers and binders to one side so you could hold it with a single arm comfortably. Then opened your locker with your now free hand, holding your knee up to keep the papers from slipping. Grimacing slightly at your awkward option as you pulled your bag from your locker, stumbling back as the bag came out. Though your balance was caught by Gretchen, who gave you a soft smile and held you as you gathered your footing. Slinging the bag on your shoulder then holding the papers with both arms again.

"Thanks, baby." You smiled at your girlfriend, Karen quickly came up behind her and smiled at you.

"Y/N!" She gave you a quick hug, you kissed Karen's cheek since your hands were too full to hug her back.

Gretchen looked at all the stuff in your arms and raised an eyebrow," What's all that?"

"Shane's stuff. He needed some extra help." You explain briefly, not giving too many details. Gretchen narrowed her eyes at that. You were helping Shane? Shane Omen? Why?

She was going to ask more, when Karen suddenly frowned and interrupted.

"You're still helping me tonight, right?"

"No yeah, yeah of course! Come over to mine when Regina drops us off, okay?" You assure her, feeling a little bad for making her think you wouldn't be able to help her too. Even if it was an accident. As for Regina dropping you off, she pretty much always takes you to and from school along with Karen & Gretchen.

Karen smiles gratefully at you and pulls you in for a kiss, you happily kiss her back and Gretchen takes a photo of the two of you.

"That's so cute! It's going on our shared insta." Gretchen says with a little squeal, opening insta on her phone and going to the shared account you all have access to. She posts the photo with the caption: look at these cuties 🥺💕

You break the kiss and smile at Gretchen, your group text then goes off with a text from Regina.

|| Regina: where the hell are all of you?? I'll leave you here if you dont hurry your asses.

There's a pause before another text comes in.

|| Regina: YOU BETTER NOT BE MAKING OUT WITHOUT ME

You laughed when you read that one, Gretchen giggled too and you glanced at Karen with an innocent grin.

"She must've seen the photo." You say with a laugh, the girls nod their heads in agreement and the three of you head to Regina's jeep. You didn't want to keep her waiting longer than you already have.

At the jeep, Karen and Gretchen got in the back while you took your usual seat in the front next to Regina. Who was already looking at you expectantly.

"Just a sec," You tell her, attempting to stuff your binders and additional papers into your bag so they didn't blow away when Regina drove. Considering her jeep had no doors, something you found awfully inconvenient.

Regina groans and rolls her eyes," Ugh. Why do you have so much extra papers anyway?"

"Helping Shane." You reply, part of you had wanted to lie because you knew Regina wouldn't like the answer. But if she found out about the lie (and she always does) that would've made things way worse.

Regina looked offended," What? Seriously? Why the fuck?"

"He asked and I couldn't say no.." You admit in a mumble, making Regina narrow her eyes at you.

"You gotta work on that. Seriously, Y/N." Regina says, you finally get everything to fit in your bag before you looked at her with a frown.

"You know, Regina's right Y/N." Gretchen pipes up, leaning forward and resting her arm on Regina's back seat as she looks at you with a concerned gaze." You take on way too much from other people."

"But they'll get mad if I say no." You respond, turning your gaze to Gretchen for a moment.

"So? Fuck them, let them get mad." Regina shrugged and grabbed your chin, making you look at her before kissing you roughly. Your eyes widened at the suddenness of it but you melted into the kiss. She broke it off and wiped your bottom lip with her thumb, smirking at you," You owed me a kiss."

You blushed deeply and she laughed at your reaction, shaking her head and starting up her car.

"You're too easy. But fuck, Y/N. You gotta stop letting people walk all over you. You're not a fucking doormat." Regina's words may have been harsh, but they were the truth. You did need to stop letting people walk all over you.

~~~

But maybe not today. It was now Monday. You had managed to get everything done for Friday, much to your own sacrifice. You haven't slept a wink since Tuesday night before everything happened. And you were starting to feel it. Sure you could have slept on the weekend, but your girls dragged you around to house parties both Saturday night and Sunday night. You stayed sober to keep an eye on them and be the designated driver and you probably could have slept when you got them home, but you wanted to make sure nothing happened throughout the night. So you've been awake for almost a week straight. It was hell.

Today you had Chess Club, an extra curricular club you had chosen. You managed to get your girlfriends to agree to let you do it, Gretchen had put up a bit of an argument but when she saw how good you were at the game she let it slide.

You sat in your usual spot at the library, a chess board in front of you as played off against your best friend; Flow Scotts (short for Florence). You guys had met when you joined Chess Club, having been paired together day one. The two of you were a pretty even match and would face off against each other frequently, which built the friendship between the two of you.

You studied the board as you rubbed one of your eyes, plotting your next move while trying to stay awake. She already had you in check with her bishop, so you moved your own bishop to block hers. With the Queen defending the bishop it was a solid move, if she decided to take your piece blocking your King you could safely take hers with your Queen. sorry to the non-chess nerds who aren't going to really understand my rambles here.

Flow made a huff sound and you laughed, smiling at her when someone comes to sit next to your table. You didn't recognize him, so you assumed he must've been new to the Club as he watched your game with an interest only Chess Club members seemed to have in their eyes.

Flow blinks and looks up from the board, getting distracted from whatever strategy she had been forming in her head." Can we help you?"

"Oh! Hi! Um, Mr. Rapp told me I could come join you guys here. And like observe and maybe play winner. I'm James." He introduces himself, you and Flow glanced at each other and you shrugged.

"Alright. This is Flow, I'm-" He stops you with a smile.

"Y/N. I know, everyone knows. You're dating the plastics." James says, you sighed. You hated when people called them that. They were so much more than 'the plastics' behind closed doors.

"Right." You nodded your head.

"Also, I'm still sort of new to Chess and Mr. Rapp said that one of you could help me out with like extra chess lessons after school?" James continued on, you glanced at Flow.

"I have soccer practice after soccer today." Flow looks back at you. Flow didn't play soccer, she clearly just didn't want to tutor him.

"Yeah, okay. I'll do it. Meet here five minutes after the bell." You tell James, who gives you a grateful smile.

You had a test you had wanted to study for after school and a project you had wanted to use the school lab computers for, but now you were stuck tutoring James. You figured you could just pull another all nighter to get the work done. What's one more?

Well, one more turned into many more. It's been a total of three weeks since you last had a decent, solid sleep and it was really affecting your grades. People just kept asking things of you and you couldn't tell them no. It was bad.

Ms. Norbury was the first to notice your grades dropping, as your grades in math were pretty solid. They weren't mathletes worthy but they weren't completely low either. You averaged a 75%, which had now dropped down to 68% with your lack of sleep and focus in class.

You were currently in math, which was your fourth period. Trying desperately to pay attention and not fall asleep. Though at one point you droop so low your head hits the table, startling you into a more upright position as people stared at you in confusion. Ms. Norbury narrowed her eyes, sleeping in class wasn't like you. She was sure something was wrong.

"Okay, everybody take 5." She says, people get up and head out while she walks over to you.

"Y/N? Everything alright?"

"Just tired." You tell her in a mumble, you weren't a mumbler.

"Honey, when was the last time you slept?" She asked, crouching down in front of your desk to get a better look at you. She frowned as she saw the dark circles and the very evident exhaustion.

You simply shrugged, to you her voice felt far and distant so you had to put all your remaining energy into hearing her. You couldn't remember the last time you had a good sleep. You knew it had been a while ago, though. All your days just felt as though they had blended together.

That concerned Ms. Norbury further, she debated if she should just send you home at this rate. After all it was just fourth period and she was sure you'd have people in other classes who could get the work you missed.

"Come on, Y/N. How about we call one of your parents and have them come get you?" She said softly, knowing a good sleep at home would be what you needed.

When you heard that you shook your head, you knew your parents wouldn't come get you. Even if you had been throwing up they'd tell you to tough it out.

"They wouldn't.." You say in a mumble, Ms. Norbury frowns at that and tries to think of a plan B. She knew the various cliques and which students hung out with who, so she knew you were close with the plastics. The question was which one would be come get you? Little did she know any one of them would do it in a heartbeat.

She sighed quietly to herself and stood up," Alright, just wait here." She tells you before heading to the class phone and giving someone a call. You weren't sure who.

About five minutes pass before Gretchen comes running into the room, when she saw you she paused and looked at Ms. Norbury. They seemed to have some silent conversation, no. Their mouths were moving. You just couldn't focus enough to hear what they were saying.

You slumped back in your seat and your eyes started to close, exhaustion catching up to you when you felt hands on your shoulders and looked to see Gretchen watching you with worry all over her face.

Gretchen had known that something was wrong. She knew it from the start, but every time she tried to talk about it with you you would just say 'tired' and nothing else so she gave up pressing you on it. She knew she should have tried harder to get the information out of you.

Even Regina had tried too at one point, she noticed when you weren't fully present in a conversation she was having with you. You just kept replying with 'mhm' 'uh huh' and so she tested it by saying 'I dont know what to wear to school tomorrow, think I should go topless?' you replied with a simple 'yepper' and that basically confirmed for her that you weren't listening. So, when she asked what was wrong after getting your attention, you just replied 'tired' to her too. She didn't think to press further.

"Y/N, are you listening?" Gretchen asked, a frown on her lips after she had snapped her fingers to get your attention. You blinked and looked at her.

"Huh?" You didn't realize she had been trying to talk with you.

"I'm taking you to Regina's, Ms. George will come get us." Ms. George was your backup. If one of you needed to go home for whatever reason or just wanted to skip and relax, she always said that she would come get you girls," I texted the groupchat and told them what was going on. They're on their way over, just hang tight. Okay?"

You nodded and not too long after all three were standing before you, Ms. Norbury was back at her desk. Letting you girls have your space.

"You look exhausted." Karen points out. Leave it to Karen to point out the obvious.

Regina narrows her eyes at her and sighs before looking back at you, resting her hand to your cheek and rubbing it gently with her thumb. You lean in a little closer to her touch," Why haven't you been sleeping?"

"Busy." You reply, unable to gather enough energy to say more. The three exchanged looks.

"Busy with what?" Regina replied, she knew you had your Chess Club, tutoring Karen, and your own work on top of that but she didn't think that was enough to get you this tired.

"Helping people." You explain, talking simply again. She groaned at that. That's what caused this?

"Baby, I thought I told you to say no?" Regina takes her hand off you, you feel the warmth leave and you almost slump forward on your desk. You'd been using her hand as support. Her hands rest on her hips as Gretchen catches you and keeps you up, giving your forehead a soft kiss.

"Mean." You respond.

"Excuse me?" Regina looked offended, thinking you had called her mean. You shook your head and desperately looked at Gretchen to translate.

Gretchen tensed, racking her brain to think of what you meant," Did you mean saying 'no' was mean?"

You nodded.

"That's not mean. You can always say no, that's what Gretchen says to me all the time." Karen pipes up, Gretchen gives her a soft look and nods in agreement.

"Y/N/N, you're allowed to have boundaries." Gretchen tells you," is it really worth it if it's doing this to you?"

You were going to respond but there was a knock at the door, you glanced at it and saw Flow there.

"Hey, Y/N. I would've texted but I was walking by here anyway, you coming to Chess tonight?" She asked.

Regina scoffed and folded her arms," Absolutely not. Fuck off."

"Regina, language!" Ms. Norbury narrowed her eyes at the blonde who rolled her own.

Flow tensed at Regina's harshness and looked at you. Gretchen scrambles a response.

"What Regina meant is that Y/N is just super tired, she's going home to rest tonight. Right, baby?" Gretchen looked at you. Expecting you to agree.

Regina looked at you with a look that was basically commanding you to tell Flow 'no'. You hated it.

"Resting tonight..." You grumbled, continuing to speak in simple terms.

Flow's gaze shifted to concern but she nodded her head," okay.. let me know how you're doing later, alright?" She left after that.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Regina kept her gaze on you.

"Awful." You shook your head, disagreeing with her which makes her scoff.

Soon enough, Ms. George comes and picks all three of you up. Bringing you to their place. You were brought to Regina's bed by your girlfriends, who all snuggled up with you in bed. Gretchen on your right, Karen on the left and Regina on top. You easily fell asleep once Regina started giving your neck soft, soothing kisses. Your girls stayed close to you.

You slept for a solid 24 hours and some.

#x reader #fem reader #canon x reader #fanfic #wlw fiction #mean girls #mean girls x reader #regina george #regina george x fem!reader #gretchen x reader #regine george x reader #regina x gretchen #gretchen wieners #karen shetty #karen x reader #regina x karen #karen x gretchen #poly!plastics x reader #poly!plastics

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dilfl0v3rss · 1 year ago

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boxer!todo who trains almost every damn day. always wanting to be at his top physique at all times.

boxer!todo who lets you come with him to every training session or workout at the gym so you don’t get lonely.

boxer!todo who is undefeated due to his raw strength and ability to adjust to anyone’s fighting style. he’s beaten men bigger and faster than him because he’s just that good.

boxer!todo who doesn’t allow you to come to some of his fights. not wanting you to see how gruesome it could get in the ring.

“papa why notttt” you whined, feet stomping on the ground as you followed your boyfriend around the house. “cause i can tell how it’s gonna go. ion want you seeing all the blood and bruises ma.” he said calmly as he bent down to grab a water from the fridge. “but he was talkin so much shit at the press conference. talkin bout how he’s the best and how you never gon amount to him. wish i could fuck that nigga up myself.” you mumbled your last sentence, making todo chuckle as he watched how upset you were getting. you took the insults worse than him, and he was the one getting them. “don’t worry mama ima whoop his ass. jus need you t’stay here when the day comes while i go handle my business, aight?”

boxer!todo who spends his day offs taking you out or chilling with you at home.

boxer!todo who spoils you rotten with most of his money. if there’s was something you liked, expect it to be at your doorstep within the next week.

boxer!todo who makes sure you always have a good view of him at the fights he lets you attend. loving how you scream for him when he does a move he’s been working on or how you’re quick to lift him up when he takes a particularly hard hit.

“cmon pa we eat those”

“you got it baby hit him in the body”

“focus todo! you not done yet!”

“uhh huhhh he can’t fuck wit you baby”

he loved hearing your pretty voice.

boxer!todo who made sure to give you a reward for keeping him in check during ever match.

“you my good little motivator ain’t you mama?” his thrusts were quick, large hand pressed down lightly on your stomach so he could feel himself moving inside of you. “mhmm. you d-did so good daddy” you moaned. todo smiled as he began fucking you deeper, making your back arch off the bed as he caressed your cheek with his other hand. “did good ‘cause i had you there to cheer me on. love makin my pretty girl proud. you proud of me ma? lemme hear you say it.” todo didn’t care about how anyone else felt about him, but you. always seeking your validation after a good fight. “m’so proud of you. there’s n-nobody better papa.” “uhh huh. nobody.”

boxer!todo who also fucks you so good when he’s not happy with his performance after barely winning a fight that should’ve been “light work” for him. feeling that since he couldn’t give his all in the ring he’ll make up for it in the bedroom.

boxer!todo who never went out partying after his fights. always choosing to relax at home with you rather than be in a room with a bunch of drunk guys and bitches with their asses out.

boxer!todo who has you wear his chain during every match. you bought him the chain as a gift when he won his first fight as a pro boxer. it wasn’t the most expensive, but it was still worth a lot. you saved up for months to get it for him and he almost cried when you showed it to him.

“you didn’t have to-” “yes i did. you been working so hard and you deserve it. gon be the best there ever was baby” todo’s eyes began to water as he let you put the chain around his neck. it fit nice, sitting right over his strong pecs. “cant wear it while i fight so ima need you t’keep it safe f’me. that okay ma?” you nodded your head before giving him a passionate kiss on the lips. “i don’t mind wearin it as long as you continue to think of me” todo smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled your head into his broad chest. “always.”

boxer!todo who keeps a level head for most of his fights, never really letting the trash talk at the conferences get to him. he saw no point in trying to get a rise out of his opponent and felt that they should feel the same way, but they never did. there was only one time he let his anger take over and it nearly got him disqualified.

“a.t how do you feel about your ability to win this fight” the reporter said. todo kept his face serious as he thought about his answer. “well i been training real hard, learning some new skills. i feel like if i keep my head straight and fall through with my plans i should be able to win this thing.” he toyed with his chain as he spoke, not really thinking anything of this little event and just wanting to get home to his pretty girlfriend. the reporter asked his opponent the same question, and while he answered he noticed todo wasn’t paying attention to him at all. still playing with the gold around his neck. he noticed that it was the same chain he’d see you wearing when he would come to scout todo’s matches. a smirk planted on his face before he uttered something he’d come to regret. “yea i know ima win. and after i do, ima bring me a honey home. might even give his little girlfriend a taste since i heard she got a thing for winners.” loud gasps immediately filled the room as well as your living room while you watched the whole thing live on the edge of your couch.

everyone waited for todo to retaliate, but he didn’t. he kept calm as a small chuckle flew from his lips. holding his head down as he began to crack his knuckles. “we’ll see.” was all he said before the press moved on with their next question. everyone thought he was fine. his opponent even slumped down in his chair a little more as he thought his insult did absolutely nothing, but you knew the truth. todo only cracked his knuckles when he was angry. really angry. usually only doing so to keep himself from punching or breaking something. when he got home that night he acted as if everything was fine, but you could tell he thought about it all the time. by the way he’d hit the punching bag with a little more force than usual or how he nearly sent his trainer flying out the ring before walking towards his locker room. todo was pissed.

when the day came he made you promise not to come to or watch the fight. the seriousness in his tone made you worry, but you fell through with your promise because it meant so much to him. when todo came home it was a lot earlier than you’d imagine. his fights usually took thirty minutes to an hour, but at this rate his opponent couldn’t have lasted longer than the first round. “you win?” voice small as you watched your boyfriend quietly walk straight towards the bedroom. “mhm…” he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. you scrambled to your phone to see what could have him acting like this. a quiet gasp left your lips as you watched clips of the very short fight. like you thought, the poor guy didn’t last the first round. receiving blow after deadly blow from your boyfriend before eventually getting punched so hard in the face that he flew to the other side of the ring. “mama get in here! need you right now.” you smiled before taking a deep breath and skipping your way to your bedroom.

boxer!todo who fucked you the best when he was hot and jealous after a fight.

#aoi todo x black y/n #aoi todo x black reader #aoi todo x black!reader #aoi todo × black!reader #jjk aoi todo x black reader #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo × black reader #aoi x black reader #jjk aoi todo x black!reader #aoi todo smut #jjk aoi todo smut #jjk aoi todo x black y/n

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gh0stsp1d3r · 6 months ago

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ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Chapter 8- hate you too

Summary: Rafe is back at Tannyhill, taking care of “business.” Pope gets himself into some trouble, and you get to talk to Rafe again. But by doing so, you betrayed the pogues and your brother.

Series masterlist

“Look at you! You’re so grown up!” Big John told you, you gave him a smile and wrapped your arms around him. It had been a while since you’ve seen him.

Everyone celebrated big John’s return to the Chateau, JJ hopping on his back with a wide smile on his face.

JJ thought of him as the father he never had, whenever your guys dad used to hit him, he always had a place at the Chateau. You had even been there quite a few times, when it got real bad.

You all sat down now, listening to them explain everything.

“Yeah, yeah, so we, um… we went to the archive in Charleston, and, uh�� it was a dead end. A dry hole.. so…”

“So that’s the gold, the cross, and now El Dorado. We’re there for three, guys.” Pope spoke, pausing. “The streak continues.” He scoffed. “That’s great.”

Pope and Kiara left, you looked at JJ and he stood up. You did as well, mostly because he was your only ride at the moment.

You got him a new bike with some of the money you saved, and you were fixing the car later.

“I’m going fishing. Thanks for the beer.”

“Yea, thank you. See you guys later.” You told them, giving John B and Big John a small smile before following him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“The cross is not on the train, Rafe. It did not arrive. Somebody stole the cross.” Wards voice spoke over the phone.

“Oh my God, wait, who stole it?” Rafe spoke, feigning his confusion.

“I don’t know who stole it, Rafe!”

“That’s rough.. I- I mean it could’ve been anybody, really, right?”

“Not really, Rafe. It could be one of a very few people.”

“Well, I mean, you know, we were just giving it away anyway… so, who cares?” He shrugged. “Who cares?”

Ward exhaled, making Rafe have a smug smile on his face.

“Okay, Rafe, okay. That’s done for now. I need you to finish the list I gave you. I want you to… sign for the east river property, when that’s completed, shut down the offices-“

“Yeah, no, I- actually I wanted to talk to you about that. Uhm, I’m thinking maybe we should keep the offices.”

“..what?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking maybe I should stay down here for a while. You know, really grow the company. I think it’d be good for us, right!”

“Listen to me, Rafe-“

“No. No, no, no, you listen, okay?” He put himself on speaker. “You listening? You remember when you told me to make myself useful? Well, thats exactly what I’m doing. I’m making myself useful, alright? I can do shit, you know? Explore options… so for the benefit of all, I think I’m gonna hang out for a while, okay?”

“Rafe, listen to me, you are there for one reason. You are to act as my proxy to shut down the companies, okay? That is our one play, and if you cannot do it-“

“If I can’t do it? If I can’t do it, then what? Then what?” He shouted, “you gonna hop on a plane? Come down here? I mean- it’ll be like a goddamn Elvis sighting! Ward Cameron, everyone! Oh my God, he lives! He’s back from the dead!”

Rafe scoffed, looking down at the ring on his finger.

“I got the family ring now, Pops. Yeah, I’m wearing it, and it’s my time to step up, okay? You’re dead.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You took a deep breath, raising your hand to knock on the door.

“Hold on!” Ricky shouted from inside, you heard rummaging before he came over and opened the door.

He looked at you, your eyebags dark, your clothes dirty and ruined, your expression tired.

“Holy shit.” He spoke, dropping whatever was in his hands before stumbling to pick it back up.

“I- i heard you were back and i tried texting you- but-“ he said with a laugh when you wrapped your arms around him.

“Broke and lost my phone.” You told him, smiling as you pulled away from the hug.

“Shit- uh, come in.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“And rumor has it, along with everything else, you stole that catamaran out there.”

“I didn’t s- I was with Sarah Cameron when i was on that boat. That’s their families boat!” He pointed.

“Not according to the registration. It’s Rafe’s boat, and he says you stole it. He’s keeping it here because he doesn’t want you around it.”

“Okay, Billy, come on. There’s got to be something.”

“I’m sorry kid.” Billy sighed out. “Guffy put the nix on it. Okay? I can find cheap help that doesn’t piss my clients off.” The phone started ringing and Billy glanced over. “I gotta go.” He sighed, leaving.

As JJ walked on the dock with tears begging to be let out, he heard a familiar voice shout.

“Damn, Rafe. Come on, country club. Bro, how are you gonna have this and not even tell me! You got a whole YMCA up on this bitch, dude.” Barry spoke with a laugh.

“Barry! Time to think. All right, we need to make a move.” Rafe shouted, standing up now.

“That’s all we do, bro. We been making moves.”

JJ hid, watching the conversation and listening in on it.

“Yeah, well we don’t have much time. Yo, come down here, you’re not gonna believe this shit.” Rafe spoke, all of them stepping down.

JJ sighed, thinking as he stood up. He took off his shoes, and dove into the water.

“I’m just saying we need to take this shit seriously.” JJ heard Rafe say when he went closer, now in front of the boat.

“Dude, bro, i should get a tooth made out of this, huh?” Barry asked, smiling as he held up a bar to his teeth.

“Look, don’t be touching the shit. Just put it back.” Rafe told him.

“So paranoid, bro.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the cross. I’m trying to make money.”

JJs head snapped up at his words.

“I told you, my aunt, she got some contacts. She gonna help us move these little bitches. The gems, the nuggets, the whole damn melted enchilada.” Barry told Rafe.

“These gems are mint, man. The golds bullion. We’re selling it in bars. Alright? I’m not gonna deal with some half assed pogue shit with some reject from Zale’s, bro-“

“Watch how you speaking about my auntie, dog.”

“I’m not talking about your aunt. I’m just…” JJ swum back to the dock, the rest of the conversation not important now that he knew about the gold and the cross.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Pope… he has the cross and he melted it down.”

Popes face fell, he stared out into the water.

“Fuck!” He shouted. “Of course it was Rafe.” He said as he panted.

“Yeah, I mean, we probably coulda guessed that.” You said.

“The cross of Santo Domingo, desecrated! For money? God!”

“I know.. so.. I think we need to stay calm to make a plan, but we got to stay-“ JJs sentence was cut off as Pope smashed the floorboards.

“Getting better at that.”

“This is messed up, man. Even for them.”

“I know.” JJ said.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You told them.

“And they’re just gonna keep getting away with it. They’re gonna keep doing that shit. Gonna keep winning.”

“I mean, pope, is this news to y-“

You hit JJs shoulder before he could finish that sentence, giving him a pointed look as he rubbed his shoulder.

“No. But I’m sick of being the good guy.” He said, before walking away.

“Pope.” Cleo said, but he started to run. “Pope, where are you going?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Well, I appreciate the help, you three.” Mrs. Heyward spoke, you and Cleo coming out and setting up tables.

“You know I ain’t missing Mrs. Hayward’s cooking.” JJ said with a small smile, wiping down the table.

“Unlike my derelict son. He’s usually here by now”

JJ tried to steal something off the grill, but his hand was slapped away.

“I’m sure he’ll be back any second, Mrs. Heyward. Probably just going through a rough time. It’s been hard adjusting back to normal life. For all of us.” You told her, a hopeful smile on your face.

“Either one of yall moved the pistol from in there?” Heyward spoke, pointing to the inside. “The one I keep under the register?”

“JJ?”

“Whoa, okay, I didn’t touch it. Okay?” He quickly defended

“He didn’t.” You told him.

“Yeah, well somebody did. Cause it’s gone.”

“I got my own gun, Mr. Heyward.” You held your hands up in defense when he looked at you.

“You see? I- dang it. I gotta find it.” He stormed inside, Mrs. Heyward following.

“Shit.” You muttered, turning to the both of them

“He’s going after Rafe.”

“I’ll check the marina.” You quickly spoke up. “Okay… I’ll come with.” JJ spoke, but you shook your head.

“Go with Cleo to Tannyhill. I doubt he’ll be at the marina still.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I haven’t talked to you in a minute, all right? No, look, listen, okay, the situation is we got… I got it. I got it right here. It’s bars, in bullion. All right.” Rafe spoke on the phone, pacing on the boat.

Pope held the gun, moving it up. He cocked it, pointing it to Rafe and aiming carefully with tears in his eyes.

He heard the footsteps before he heard your voice.

“Pope..” you mumbled. “If you do this, your whole life will go to shit. Trust me.”

“I don’t care.”

“But you care about your mother. And your father. What would they think?”

“I think they would understand how I feel.” Pope said, tears now streaming down his face. “For once, he would lose like we always do.”

You sighed, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, as he spoke.

“It doesn’t matter anyways. I’ve lost everything.”

“Are you kidding? You have a family, you have a home. You have friends that would kill themselves for you. Pope, you are the smartest fucking kid I know, but that is some bullshit coming out your mouth right now.” You paused for a moment.

“I know that right now it feels like nothing matters, and believe me, I’ve been there, but trust me, what you do is going to matter.” You continued.

You grabbed his arm, lowering it along with the gun, he exhaled and sobbed. You held him, letting him cry into your shoulder.

“Just breathe, dude. You’re good.”

You glanced back at Rafe on the boat, watching him pace back and forth on the phone.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I’m sorry, J. I already asked, but there’s no room left in the house. I’m sorry.” You told him, a sad smile on your face.

“You think you can stay at the Chateau for a while? I- I just got this new job, and I’m really trying. I swear. I’m gonna get like- I’m gonna have to get like two more, but I swear, I’m gonna get some place soon, even if it’s like.. a fucking shithole-“ you rambled on.

JJ nodded, cutting your off with his words. “I’ll figure it out, it’s all good. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”He told you, shrugging and putting his cap back on his head.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus, I’m sure. Jb won’t mind, I already practically lived with him before, I’ll do it for years again if I have to.” He shrugged.

“Thank you, JJ. See you,” you nodded, giving him a small smile before walking away.

“See you, dude,”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Yeah, a lot happened after that. John B showed up, Big John had been kidnapped, and now JJ and John B were going to some professors house to get info on where he might be, because all they knew is he was somewhere in South America.

And you were currently working two jobs, one of which was a bartender one.

The bar was in a club on figure eight, so of course you heard a bunch of shit. But today, you couldn’t help but listening in on the conversation.

“You know that Rafe Cameron is sellin’ fucking gold? From like some… ancient artifact or something?” One man said to another, downing the shot he had just gotten.

“Sell a bit here, a little bit there. Under the radar.” Rafe had told Barry when he talked about the plan for selling the gold. Clearly, that had not worked as well as they hoped, since word got around.

You listened intently, your job of wiping up the bar now forgotten.

“What? That’s weird. Heard he’s been on his fuckin’ rocker ever since his dad, and ever since that one girl from the cut.. what’s her name?”

“You talkin’ bout Maybanks sister?” The man asked, not even glancing at you as you filled up his cup again.

“Yes!” He snapped his fingers. “Her. He’s been weird since they broke up.”

“Has he, now?” You asked them with a quirked eyebrow. It was then they looked at you, eyes widening in realization.

“I mean, shit, I see why now.” One of them mumbled when you walked away, making you smile to yourself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Tannyhill parties. You hated them. You sighed as you stood in front of the house, shaking your head to yourself as you went in through the back and hopped through an open window, avoiding the dude at the front door.

Rafe really had to hire his own bouncer? That’s low.

You tried not to get spotted, and somehow it had worked. Because among all the drunk and horny teenagers, you were hidden.

You went up the stairs when you didn’t see him anywhere. And you glanced in his room, no sign of him.

“And, if you would kindly follow me, Miss Sofia.” Rafe spoke, guiding her outside.

“VIP section.” He spoke, putting an arm around her.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, only very, very special people are allowed here.. so.”

“Mm..”

“So you can see the water…” he pointed out to the ocean.

“Hey, that ain’t no Jim beam bullshit! All right? That’s Pappy Van Winkle, that’s like a days salary bro! Aye, if you don’t have a drink in your hand get the hell out of my house! Get off my property!” He shouted to the partygoers, all of them cheering at him.

“So this is the VIP life huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Yeah.”

“Cool.” She beamed at him.

“You wanna see some more?” He asked, but before she could answer he heard a a familiar voice.

“Nice party. This shit still tastes like garbage.” You told him, holding up the red cup with some expensive shit you got downstairs.

You wouldn’t admit it stung to see him with another girl. But you did like the way her smile faltered and fell when his eyes were on you now.

“How’d you get in here? Thought I had-“

You shrugged. “I used a window. Can we talk?”

He glanced at you and back at Sofia.

“Alone.” You clarified.

“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere, yeah?” He told her quietly. She nodded.

You both went into his room, he shut the door behind him. You stood in front of him, your arms wrapped around yourself as you looked around the room.

“You wanted to talk, so talk.” He snapped impatiently.

“Jeez, okay, okay. Just cut to the chase, do you have my jacket? I haven’t been able to find it and I know I always left it here.”

“You came here, through a window, for a fuckin’ jacket?” He asked, his tone annoyed.

“No… that’s… that’s not my point. I just… Rafe, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to be.”

He was listening now.

“Why the fuck did you burn down the cross?” You asked him.

“What?” He laughed, your sudden change in demeanor was hilarious to him. “I- it’s mine. Don’t you guys get that?” He pointed to himself, his eyebrows furrowed. “Mine. I fuckin’ went to hell and back for that thing.” He pointed, voice louder now.

“Yeah, all for some fuckin’ money! Which, may I remind you, you already have plenty of. You’re being an asshole, Rafe-“

“Yeah, and when am I not with you?” He scoffed.

“Do you really wanna have this argument? Right here? And while I’m here, I broke up with you, so why are you telling people it’s the other way around? You don’t wanna seem like a pussy or something?” You are practically shouting now, happy that the music drained out the noise.

“Oh, don’t even!” He laughed. “Are you fucking-“

“It is Popes cross, not yours. And just admit you don’t wanna be seen as the boy who begged and cried for his girlfriend to come back!” You yelled at him, poking your finger into his chest.

When the fuck did you two get so close to each other? You thought.

You looked up at him, panting. He stared down at you. He grabbed your wrist, harshly holding it in his hand.

Your heart raced as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a fiery, heated kiss. One full of anger, pent up feelings. Of course, you didn’t reciprocate at first.

You fell under his spell, however, seconds later, kissing him back. His hand let go of your wrist, and were currently on your sides, pulling you even closer as you both crashed onto the floor, you straddling him.

“I- I fucking hate you.” You muttered when you both pulled away, causing him to smirk against your lips.

“Hate you too.” He told you, going back to shoving his tongue in your mouth.

————————

Taglist:

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah

#rafe cameron x you #maybanks sister #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron series #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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inkyquince · 1 month ago

Text

Sincerely, Bailey (Commission)

characters. Bailey. (Hinted Briar. And Harper is Bcc'd out of worry)

cw. implied drunken bailey. violence, both physical and sexual. angry emotional bailey. mentions of sex trafficking, Robin slander. dubious consent of treatment of pc.

notes. Letter Commission for PippyLI! Once again, SO sorry how long it took to get out, having to do IRL stuff for a year basically sucked. Hope you enjoyed angry emotional Bailey! Thank you! Sorry i was FIGHTING to get this into an email format but oh my god it wasn't working at all.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: 50% off Paneling for your Home, 5 Star Reviews Draft

B, look over this draft before I send it.

Hello Customer!

We are having a big sale on our boys coming in and sprucing up your home! Spend over £250 on our service and we shall knock off £20 to a whole new paint job for a whole room! Then £10 off for every third room painted! Spend over £500 on our service and we shall install new radiators for half price!

Enough of that. If your wife reads further than that paragraph of what’s an obvious spam email, she’s too stupid to to be alive. Get rid of her and stop wasting my time.

This is more of a courtesy email about your inquiry into one of our selections, number 209. I’ve been the caretaker of numbers 191 to 220 for a long time, and I can personally attest that that product is not suited for what you’ve outlined you wish to do. I know on their file it recommends consumers should enjoy taming, sadism, bondage at most in order to get any use out of them. However, in my professional opinion, they should be taken off the list and left to the gropers and rapists wandering the town, and the customers at the brothel.

In my personal experience, they would have benefited to be put directly into the brothel or the farm right away. Give them hands-on experience immediately rather than wasting time making them make money by themselves. They started out very promising in the beginning, very malleable but have proven to be a nuisance to both myself and the people around them. Either that or be put permanently underneath my care to make sure minor annoyances are kept at a minimum.

They refuse to behave, even under threat of assault or worse. I do not think that anyone other than myself could handle them. Now, before I get a complaint from you, no, it’s not because I’m their caretaker and have paternal feelings towards them. I’ve watched them get their cunt stretched out by strange cocks too much to care about if they have a good time having sex. I would be helping the public by keeping them under lock and key.

So my counter offer will be to take their friend, #201 in return. A whiny crybaby who reacts well to sadism. Of course, you might have to deal with them trying to save the little shit, but we don’t cover fees to do with losing a product halfway through your paid time. Just a warning. For a price of 30% of your original payment I could keep them busy so there’s no chance of missing out on your full 12 hours of paid time.

I would be prepared to spend those 12 hours showing them exactly what happens when you don’t listen the first time. I’ve noticed that they become pliant to a rough fuck the longer it goes on, if they’re allowed to bite and get a few scratches in. No better than a mewling beast once all their thoughts go to their clit. They also seem fixated on riling me up enough to drag them down and fuck them. With other’s they bite and scratch and use pepper spray (I have no idea where they keep getting these, the supply in town is very limited), but despite the threats of shipping them off to the brothel or to a close friend, they instead fight. But no, they don’t fight me in a coherent, normal way, no, they’re diving for my cock and trying to make me cum while I’m trying to teach them to pay their rent on time.

They love it. They love angering me, they love going into my office, they love offering up their body for a “one time” extension, even though they keep doing it, no matter how many times I ruin them against my desk, their cunt gripping me so tightly. Maybe they have a fucked up crush, or maybe they’re just sick in the head.

But I can’t get rid of them, they bring in so much mney that I can’t kick them out. They bring in rent, they keep the other little shits quiet and they’re so fuckin good at their job that I have insane fuckheads like you asking personally to request them. But who cares, they clamp around a cock disgustingly tight, they suck down cock like it’ll divorce them if they don’t and now I have to write this breakdown on why you can’t experience that at 3am and getting hard while I do it. I never fuck orphans but apparently they live to make my day miserable and start off with a double of vodka with no fuckin mixer. All because some fuck came in after being kicked in the dick by this little shithead and wanted his fucking money back. I have to write fucking disclaimers now. What the fuck. 10 years ago we didn’t have to do this shit. What do you mean I have to spend 12 hours of my day fucking this Bin Baby so that they won’t wander away and save the most annoying boy I’ve ever met? What the fuck. The other day I had to fucking jerk off to when they buried their face in my crotch and whined for my dick. If it was anyone else, I’d kick them in the crotch until they would have to go to hospital.

I have no idea what fucking crack their mother was smoking before throwing them in the dumpster but now I’m stuck with a little asshole who loves my dick and won’t fucking behave. You want to fuck that? Try to and you won’t be fucking found. I will fucking wring that stupid addictive scent of their body, their cunt, out of your skin, and sell it to the nearest freak. You want Morgan wearing your fucking skin for touching them? I’ll take your teeth so no one will ever fucking find you, but who would care, your wife? The one who might read a spam email? And doesn’t care that your dick hasn’t worked except for when she shit out your crotch spawn? You think I won’t fuck you up for the sake of your kids who are older than my fucking orphan?

Fuck you and your ugly fucking kids.

Sincerely,

Blailey

P.S briar should i also add that if you stick your thumb in their asshole they tighten up enough that i can see stars? that the first time i fucked them i fucking said that their body always belonged to me? and it fuckin was and still is. i should break their stupid little boyfriend’s nose for thinking they own that little slut. the smell of their shower wash is fuckin insane but it isnt. makes me want to fuck their thighs and make them walk around all day smelling of cum. briar who even is this stupid fuck.

From: [email protected]

To: me

Bcc: [email protected]

Subject: RE: 50% off Paneling for your Home, 5 Star Reviews Draft

An insane person wrote this. No client will buy anything after reading this. Stop it.

-B

P.S. you misspelled money, as well as your own name. How. Are you smoking something that you aren’t sharing with the class? Also have you ever even heard of an oxford comma? Eden was the drop out, not you.

P.P.S. Don’t punch kids. Also stop drinking.

#dol #nsft #quincewrites #commission #letter commission #bailey the caretaker #degrees of lewdity #my god im so sosrry how long this took

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deepseasmetro · 1 month ago

Note

The way that you bisexual transmascs lower yourselves just to get some tgirl dick is pathetic btw, everyone can see it, they're fucking mean to you and make fun of you all the time and you humiliate yourself by just taking it because you're a fucking sellout. I tried saving you from this circle of misery but there's no hope for you, I'm done here.

"childish", anon? do you mean horrifically transmisogynistic? hell, just straight up misogynistic? biphobic? pathetic? awful? disgusting?

don't come crying and groveling to me about how regretful you are. how immature you are. how sorry you are. what could possibly fucking compel you to say this? think this? immaturity? bullshit. you're a bigot. an obvious and undeniable fucking bigot.

i only care about trans women cus i wanna fuck them, huh? is that the only reason you care about other people? is that the only way you can even think about trans women? petty mean girls who other people only keep around to fuck? who mock their friends behind their backs? untrustworthy sex toys? it sounds like you're projecting, and projecting hard, anon, and i'm not here to baby you or forgive you or tell you good job for regretting your nasty fucking messages an hour later.

you're pathetic. exceptionally pathetic. no wonder you don't have any transfem friends! hell, i'd bet money you hardly have any friends at all! what are you so mad about? women standing up for themselves? people like me standing up for them too? people like me loving transfems, protecting them, speaking out for them, being their friend and lover and community member? does it piss you off that i'm better than you? that they actually like me?

i'm a fucking sellout???? for loving and respecting my sisters? my loved ones? my girlfriend, my lovers, my best friends, my mutuals, my mentors?????? are you serious? are you fucking serious? do you hear yourself? do you understand how miserable and pathetic you are? how disgusted i am with you?

what a fucking joke. you're the scum of the earth. bottom of the barrel. you're the reason i never call myself transmasc, the reason i despise being in spaces dominated by tme people - the disdain, the hate, the resentment, the disgust you people have for the people i love and admire does nothing but piss me off beyond belief. you don't deserve to be in this community. you do not deserve the love and support this community gives people. you are a worm. a tiny, meaningless, disgusting, rotten, worthless fucking worm.

i hate you, anon. i truly and utterly despise you with every fiber of my fucking being. if i wasn't worried about getting my account terminated again, i would say much, much unkinder things to you. you can use your imagination.

take your fucking sorries and leave. transfems, indeed, will never forgive you. not because you're transmasc, or tme, or whatever - but because you are blatantly dangerous for them to be around. you are a slimy, two faced mother fucker. you are a total and utter piece of shit. fuck you. don't you ever fucking send me shit like this again. fuck you.

#ask #Anonymous #transmisogyny cw #sorry this is so long. but this really really pisses me off

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respectthepetty · 1 year ago

Text

So . . .

I'm fucked.

Pisaeng is now my baby boy, and I'm fully invested in his well-being. He took so many hits this episode, and I'm taking it personally.

Let's recap exactly how this episode hurt Piseang's and my feelings because I need to make sure I deliver the maximum damage to myself:

Kawi telling Piseang that he is intentionally creating distance between them because Pisaeng makes him feel uncomfortable and unsafe in front of the pink neon light and sign that reads "Extending our friendship, connection, and happiness to you all" was the cherry on top of this shitty pain sandwich.

Kawi chasing Pisaeng to the parking lot just to shove money into his face, so he won't owe Pisaeng anything.

DJ Squirtle! Pisaeng was so excited to give Kawi this, only to throw it at him from the car after such a horrible day.

Pisaeng turned down Pear's invite, but lit up when Kawi invited him out for drinks, only to be ambushed by a group that included Knot.

Pisaeng mentioned not being comfortable around him. Knot is misogynistic and Kawi KNOWS he is an asshole in the future, yet Knot keeps making comments about Pisaeng's sex life and the fact that they went to an all-boys school. Knot also mentioned believing Kawi was with Max (aka GAY), so is Knot homophobic and this is another reason Pisaeng does not want this dumpster in his life?

On the topic of Max, my other baby boy - Is this the reason for their dispute? Max could be gay and Kawi didn't like the implication that they might be in a relationship? Also, he was supposed to meet Max later. Did he? Or did he go out with Knot and the guys instead? He check-marked Max off his list, but this won't be as simple as he is making it if he continues to be friendly with Knot if his issues with Max really do stem from queerness.

Back to my other baby boy - Pear does like Pisaeng, but more importantly, IS MY BABY BOY DEPRESSED?! He is lonely. His old friends suck. His new friend said he makes him uncomfortable. He doesn't want to feel the pressure from Pear's dad. What is his relationship with his own parents? WHO IS THERE FOR MY BOY?!

He looked like he was going to cry in that classroom when Kawi told him he was annoying. He was trying to keep his shit together but was *this* close to having a breakdown when he was scrambling to gather his stuff so he could haul ass out of there. He didn't even turn in the quiz.

LOOK AT HIM!

I'm glad Kawi chased after him, but Pisaeng is really begging for someone to care about it, yet Kawi refuses.

He is quick to forgive and share his food with Kawi, so when Kawi told him that he is bothered by Pisaeng's behavior (thinking it's funny when Kawi is upset), Pisaeng clearly looked pained to know he unintentionally hurt Kawi. He wanted to fix it, but Kawi left immediately when Knot showed up.

Kawi turning down every offer Pisaeng extended to hang out upset him, and he even mentioned it later in the classroom. He tried to joke it off in the class, but he was hurt when it happened.

He went from being happy seeing Kawi and Pear together, to being somber since the realization of what he set in motion hit him.

Because he likes Kawi, a guy he can't have.

And he has liked him the entire time. TEN YEARS!

The worst part of all of this is Kawi isn't bad. He is trying to fix this, yet is delivering the most blows to my guy. He doesn't want Pear to be hurt in the future, so he must keep his distance from Pisaeng. He doesn't want to owe Pisaeng, so he pays him back. He doesn't want Pisaeng to be lonely, so he tries to mend his friendships. He wants his life to be better, which includes befriending Max again, saving his dad's life, and being with Pear, but he is missing what is right in front of him. He needs Pisaeng for his life to be better.

And then next week?!

Yeah, so like I wrote.

I'm fucked.

#be my favorite #be my favorite the series #pisaeng x kawi #is this show about to be a Hot Tops for me?#Pisaeng is my baby boy and I'm about to fight everyone in this show #Treat him with kindness and love!#And then Max!#I can't believe this is happening #I'm feeling feelings for the pursuer in a JittiRain show

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elliebyrrdwrites · 1 month ago

Text

Marriage Law Trope part 3

Obviously, Granger refused to have the ceremony at the manor, despite all of my mothers requests and horde of howlers. Mother wanted to save all of the time and money she spent planning her only sons wedding. So, she brought the ceremony to Granger.

Inside of the ministry, is this sad little room for the kinds of witches and wizards who want to get married without all of the hoopla. They either don’t have the money to spend on a big wedding, or they just need the marriage for legal purposes.

But mother fills this room with the white Lillie’s and the pink carnations and she charms to ceiling to sparkle. There’s a massive wedding cake in the middle of the room on a table she set up herself. It’s three tiers with the smallest one holding two figurines of a bride and groom. The bride originally resembled Astoria with her black hair and pale skin. I had to ask Theo to transfigure it to resemble Granger. He managed to transfigure the skin to resemble the sandy color of Grangers and the hair to grow two sizes bigger, but it’s still black. Not brown.

With a shrug, he moves back to my side. We’re both leaning against a wall, and I’m dressed in the first clean(ish) suit Theo could find before forcing me out of the door.

The finality of last nights drunkenness simmered into a buzz and is now boiling rapidly into a hangover. It starts with a headache that begins at the base of your skull and then it wraps around and you swear you can feel your brain scraping against your scalp because you’re so hungover you think everything has shrunken or expanded. You aren’t really sure, but all of those scenarios pop into your head and you just can’t even blink without the pain landing into your brain, behind your eye sockets.

The point is, I feel like shit on what some may consider the most important day of my life.

Theo peers at me from where he’s leaning and begins to dig through his pockets. Inside of his jacket, in his pants pockets. I don’t know what he is looking for and I can’t understand how he keeps digging around in the same pockets for long periods of time but finally. He produces a vial of something bright red and holds it out to me as I watch my father hiss into my mothers ear. Across the room, he’s telling me, my mother, the worl, that at this is the worst thing to ever happen to the Malfoys.

“Take this.” Theo says and I take the vial, without looking it. I take the vial and uncork it before tossing the entirety into the back of my throat.

Because potions are not new to me. Potions are what I do. It’s just that, ever since Granger rolled into that room last week, I don’t want them. I hate them. They dull everything inside of me and everything around me. And so, every other night, I skip them. Every other night, I let myself feel the spread of my sheets as i lay down to sleep. I mull over data and information, mostly about the things insane and heard and I felt.

And then I close my eyes. I blink and then it’s morning. Everything stops and then speeds up until the sun is shining through my curtains. Sometimes I doubt that I even fell asleep.

The point is, I didn’t take my potions last night because I wanted to feel the enormity of this day. I wanted to remember the way it felt to watch Granger say ‘I Do to Draco Malfoy.

It’s not like I have any romantic feelings. It’s just interesting and something about the way she stood up to father makes me think she’s going to do something stupid and reckless and I really just want to remember it. I want to feel it all.

The point is, we have to kiss. This isn’t just a business deal, because we’re expected to get intimate. We’re expected to stick my parts into her parts and make a fucking baby.

But the point is, I got stupid drunk last night because I couldn’t figure out what kind of kiss to give her. It’s not like I even want to kiss her. But if I don’t, or I do, what is then outcome? If I kiss her like she’s repulsive, she’ll likely hex my balls off.

If I kiss her like I want to fuck her, like I want to consummate this, she will likely still hex my bullocks off.

And I don’t. Really, I don’t.

It’s just that, she has the greatest set of tits I’ve ever seen wrapped inside of fabric.

The potions tastes like pepper up with a kick of something tart. And my tongue tingles just as the door to the room opens.

Granger is dressed in a white dress. Her shoulders are bare and the dress is simple, like something you’d wear to an afternoon garden party and her hair is pulled back with intricate braids that meet at the back of her head but the rest of her hair is down and wild and she feels like the falls of Asaranca during summer. It’s Warm and wild but there’s a cool steady mist blowing in your face.

Trust me, I know.

But, behind Granger, there’s Harry Potter and there’s Ginny Weasley. And there’s Ronald Fucking Weasley.

Ronald Weasley is as freckly as ever, but that’s not why I hate him. Freckles don’t bother me. He’s combed up and dressed in a suit that actually looks new and fits his big gangly body, but that isn’t why I hate him, either. I don’t even hate his copper colored hair. Copper has its appeal.

The point is, just the mere presence of him grates at my nerves.

It’s like being lit on fire and being able to do nothing about it. Your blood is boiling and it feels like your skin is tightening around your temples but really it’s just your nerves getting frayed and there’s nothing you can do.

And the point is, that when Granger steps into the room, his hand moves to the small of her back and I can feel the possession in his touch, even from here I’m standing.

And the point is, I’d rather die than have my wife be something Ronald Weasley feels like he owns.

The room fills with the tension that spreads and reaches out for all eight of us. It’s threading itself into our skin and through the fibers of our muscles until it settles deep into the gut or carves itself out a little space in our chest.

There isn’t enough room in there for my heart and my lungs and all of that tension.

Because it’s pounding and my lungs are contracting over and over and Granger is looking at me from across the room like she’s just seen life on the moon. She takes her big dumb eyes and shines them on me like I’m that thing she lost years ago, and totally forgot all about it until this moment.

Until she’d stumbled upon it like we stumbled upon it in the middle of looking for something else. And now she can’t remember what she was looking before she found me.

And the point is, it’s unnerving. The look of this witch with her lips parting and her eyes glimmering, it’s too much. Because she’s about to give herself to me, and I’m going to pull her into my life and into my chest and lock her in there. I’ll have to protect her from everyone,even my father. I’ll have to care for her and we don’t even like each other.

My magic is buzzing and my heart is pounding and Theo is nudging his shoulder into mine, telling me to calm down.

“Either the potion’s kicked in, or you’re very excited to see your bride to be,” Theo says and when drag my eyes away from Granger, he’s pointedly looking at my nose. There’s steam pouring out of my nostrils and my ears and I can feel it wafting up my throat as I step away from the wall to greet my bride. But, I cough and puff out a cloud of tart flavored smoke.

Grangers face lights up in a way I’ve never seen before.

Her lips quirk and her eyes latch onto mine and then she smiles. She’s smiling at me like she can’t help it. Like the smoke and my nerves are all something precious and I feel like I’m being bolted to the floor. I can’t move and the best of my heart increases and so I just stare.

I stare and staresndstareandstare. I can’t stop staring at the way her lips lift and show the row of pearl like teeth, the slight sliver of her top gum.

“Ahem,” father clears his throat and the spell is broken. The mudbloods magic fizzes out and her smile transforms into something cruel and bitter as she looks to look at my father.

The tension thickens as the Marriage Commissioner enters behind Grangers gang of Gryffindors.

“Are we all ready?”

The little room is bursting with flowers and tension and the nine of us.

Nobody is ready. We’re all fidgeting and on edge.

Potter is shifting from foot to foot as he squeezes onto the hand of Ginny Weasley. She’s narrowing her eyes on me, a brow lifted like she’s sure I’m about to take a shit on the entire thing. Theo is fiddling with his bow tie and I don’t know why he’s nervous. He thought the entire idea of me and Granger getting married is hilarious.

But now he’s adjusting his tie and shaking his hair from his face and staring at my parents like they might do something.

Mothers just wringing her fingers together and watching Granger with something like wonder filling her blue eyes, rounding them out and lifting her brows.

Father is scowling as he watches everyone step into place.

I step up to the little alter that is on the far east side of the room. The commissioner stands at the podium.

Theo and my parents line up on one side. Potter and the Weasleys on the other.

Granger steps up to the podium and then all of the eyes in the room are on me.

They’re poking and prodding. They’re waiting and predicting.

Because what will Draco do?

Something stupid, his fathers eyes say. Theos eyes are begging me to be reckless.

Harry thinks I’m going to do something to hurt Granger.

Ron Weasley is telling me to run away. His eyes are gobbling up his golden princess and he’s begging me to give her back, give her back.

Granger barely looks over her shoulder, and her eyes don’t land on me. I don’t know what Granger wants.

But I step up beside her and her shoulder brushes against my arm and my headache is gone but in its place, my heart has spread into my throat and into my head. I can feel and hear it in every part of my body.

The commissioner doesn’t drag it out. It’s like ripping off a bandage. It’s better to just get it over with, don’t prolong the pain. Just pinch the edges and pull.

And before I know it, I’m turning to face Granger and she’s turning to look up at me and there’s a ring shoved into my hand. I slide it onto her little fingers that look like they belong between my teeth and I’m promising to care for her and protect her. I’m promising to love her and she’s doing the same and isn’t that some shit.

Were promising to do something that we had no choice in. They’re forcing us together and now they’re making us swear to love each other when we never got the chance to figure it out on our own. And we don’t. We don’t love each other. We hate each other but now we’re going to love each other for the rest of our lives.

You may now kiss the bride.

The words crack into my mind like a whip. I’m jolted back into a moment I can never forget because I’m not being dulled down by the potions my father encouraged me to take. And this is why I drank last night.

Because I’m forced to make a decision that neither of us wants to make.

I clear my throat and I can see Granger swallow as her eyes flick to her friends, to the commission, who nods encouragingly.

She looks to my parents and to Theo.

I lean forward and I have to bend my knees so that I can lower myself to her height and gently place my lips against hers.

I settled on a respectful, closed lipped kiss.

Her lips are soft and firm and warm. There’s a spark of magic that dances against my mouth and I gasp. I gasp and make to pull away.

But Grangers hands suddenly clasp over the back of my neck as she lifts up onto the tips of her toes and deepens the kiss. She takes advantage shock forces her tongue into my mouth and, I think I’m falling.

The point is, my hands hold onto her, grasping at her face and her waist and I’m falling. I’m falling into Granger and she takes me, catches me and devours me.

The kiss is wild and it’s inappropriate but I think I’m cursed because I can’t stop kissing her back. I can’t stop slanting and molding my mouth to hers. I can’t stop letting her massage my tongue with hers I can’t stop her little fingers from gripping onto my neck or from finding their way into the little hairs at the nape of my neck.

I can’t stop the way my fingers press into the fabric of her dress like I might rip into it. I can’t stop the way I, forcing her body to crowd into mine.

The kiss is like a dance that is synchronized and well practiced, like we’ve been doing it forever.

Someone clears their throat and Granger slows the kiss down, kissing me once, twice, three times before she pulls away with my eyes still closed.

She pulls away and when I open my eyes, she sends a smirk at my father and the point is, I can’t care.

The point is, that ancient beast that was a part of me is now a part of her and something wild and frenzied is suddenly brewing right here. Here in this space between her body and mine, my mind and hers The point is, it’s here to stay and the point is, I can’t stop this, even if I tried.

Trust me, I know.

#dramione fanfic #dramione #fanfic #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #dramione fanfiction #dramione ship #dramione fan fiction #dramione drabbles #dramione drabble #dhr drabbles #dhr drabble #dhr fandom #dhr #dhr fic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months ago

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AITA for not buying something for a friend on card when they only have cash? (profanity warning up ahead lol) 🦈🦈🦈

A few months ago myself and some of my friends (fake names: Lucy F, Mark M, Kai NB, Jenny F, Charlie NB) decided to go see a movie at the local cinema (we chose it because it's the cheapest in the area). For a very long time, this place only accepted cash unless you booked tickets in advance but after COVID now operates exclusively on contactless payments — no exceptions. Whenever we got there everybody had already booked tickets so we went right into the theatre to get good seats (tickets don't have specific seats at this cinema; it's first come, first served). Once we got our seats of choice, we decided to go to the cinema shop for food in pairs so that nobody would take out spot and after Mark and Kai went, Lucy and I went.

I went first and paid for a medium popcorn and a small box of Maltesers but when it was Lucy's turn she only had cash, therefore could not pay, which made her get snappy at the worker there who obviously couldn't do anything about it. Lucy then asked me if I could pay on card and she could repay me with cash (which is a reasonable request but shit goes sideways after this) so I checked my balance to see if I could. Turns out I only had twenty cents left on my card.

Side note: we're all teenagers and Lucy, Mark, Charlie and I don't have jobs because at the time we were still considered to young to be hired in my area unless we wanted to get paid severely below the minimum wage (McDonald's, I see you). My money consists solely of birthday money that I can spend on buying gifts for myself and others, and going out with my friends. I budget myself strictly because I don't have a steady source of income and keep my unspent money in my savings dedicated towards university. My parents won't start a uni fund for me until I get my first job (which I personally think is fairly reasonable so that I can work for my education) Also I've been saving money in my budget to see this movie for a while since I was excited about it's release (FNAF lol).

Anyway, I tell Lucy I only have 20c and I'm sorry, but she snatches my phone without asking to look at my bank details to see $400 in savings (I know it's not enough for uni but please bare with me /lh). I naturally freaked out in my head and take it back from her, worried that she was going to try buy food anyway, read my bank account details or take money out of my literal uni fund. When I quickly explained it was my only fund for university and I didn't feel comfortable whittling it down (we're in public and there's a line of three people behind Lucy) she gets mad and properly yells that I'm being a "selfish bitch" and only thinking about myself, and that I should just pay for her anyway so she can give me the cash (I would have nowhere safe to keep it in my house as my sister takes any physical money and lies about it, which she has done to me before). I offer to go back to the group and take someone else down like Jenny or Kai who can make the trade or that she can share my food (she likes popcorn and Maltesers) but she again called me a "bitch" at the top of her lungs in a public space with people behind her and families with young children nearby, and stormed back to the theatre, leaving me to apologise to the workers and members of the public.

We go back to the theatre and I again offer for her to share my food and ask if any of my friends could do the trade but she once more announced I was a "selfish, stupid bitch" quote unquote and that it didn't matter anymore anyways. She proceeded to sulk the rest of the movie and later when we walked around the area just for fun.

Later when we all went home, it turned out Lucy, immediately after I got on my bus, made a group chat with everybody but me to talk shit about me. I found out about this because I was on the bus home with Mark (we're practically neighbours) and he showed me the messages right away. She had completely changed the story to make her a hapless victim that I, the unfeeling antagonist, publicly shamed even though after the movie I apologised to her again (I genuinely felt like shit after all of it) and explained the situation to my curious friends (Lucy agreed with what I said then — except I kept out the "bitch" stuff — but rewrote the whole story in their group chat).

At school she started avoiding myself, Mark, Charlie, and other friends who didn't go see the FNAF movie with us because apparently they were all on "my side" (I didn't realise that this whole thing was a big deal or that there were definitive sides people had to choose). Kai and Jenny (who were sticking with Lucy but still talking to the rest of us) came up to me separately and told me that Lucy was "hurt by my actions" and just because I didn't like her, didn't give me the right to "take that experience away". I asked why they thought I didn't like her and that's how I found out she had been talking shit about me for months behind my back (and others like Mark and people who didn't go see the movie), which did upset me because I still considered Lucy a friend despite all this.

Kai and Jenny told me to apologise. Mark and Charlie told me not to. I haven't yet and it's been over a month now. Lucy, Kai and Jenny still hang out with us but Lucy still shit-talks myself and others and will consistently bring up that I didn't pay for her despite the fact that it was ages ago now and I really didn't think it was that deep.

Do you guys think I'm the asshole for not draining my uni funds to get my friend a popcorn and Maltesers, and then not apologising when she tried to turn our friends against me over it?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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alexjcrowley · 2 months ago

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So, I watched Casino Royale (2006), in my quest to rewatch all of the Daniel Craig's James Bond movies and answer the question: "Do I really hate James Bond movies? Or was I just a kid when some of them came out and I didn't care for spy movies?"

I'll start by saying that I liked Casino Royale much, much more than I had expected. It's 2 hours and a half long, which today is the standard running time for any blockbuster, but lately I had managed to convince myself that, during my childhood, blockbusters were shorter and didn't kidnap an audience in a movie theatre for almost 3 hours. I was wrong.

(Now, SPOILERS ahead)

Starting with what I liked.

First thing first: James Bond. I was never fond of Bond's character, I have always thought him boring instead of serious, slimy instead of charming, and generally very annoying with the whole "I'm the man" demeneanor. I was also wrong. I really liked Daniel Craig in this first movie. We see Bond at the very start of his career, he has just been promoted 00 status and he has a lot to learn. He takes almost as many punches as he gives, he is too instinctive and his ego often gets his own way. He is far from perfect and many people give him shit for that, especially women. Casino Royale holds his main character accountable for most of the bullshit he does and that was a welcome surprise.

The plot. I am proud to say I think I understood the entire plot of the movie. I know it might not seem much a of a brag and I swear I can usually understand the plot of a movie- but James Bond's ones are often too convoluted for me. I feel like Casino Royale, partly thanks to chunk of explaination given by M, was fairly easy to follow. There were also many predictable twists- not necesserily a bad thing though, because they did make sense. I really liked how Mads Mikkelsen- brilliant as always in the role of the main villain Le Chiffre- was being hunted both by Bond and by far more dangerous people he owed money to. I think the movie lost itself a little bit in a the last part, but I'll discuss that later.

Vesper Lynd. I have no idea what the press conferences around Casino Royale were like, but I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of them focused on a better treatment of female characters in the Bond's franchise. I was expecting to be bored to death by the umpeteenth only apparently hard-to-get woman falling for Bond's charms, and I am happy to say it was nothing like that. First of all, and I mean it as a compliment, the Bond and Vesper banter is ao3-tier. The chemistry is there, there's equal teasing on both sides, which makes it looks they just work very well as a couple. But the scene I liked the most is right after James Bond loses a really important game of poker. He goes out on the balcony, Vesper follows him and James asks her to give him more money, because he thinks he can win the next game. Vesper says no. James insists, in what you could call the classical "all or nothing" scene of a movie. The one in which the protagonist is like "you have to believe in me, I can do this, look into my eyes, trust me one more time and I'll prove it to you", sprinkled with a little more "If you don't do this, all that money" that he lost "will be in the villain's hands" and grasping Vesper's arm very tightly. And Vesper's response is not "Okay, I will give you the money to save the world, but don't let me regret this, James". The first thing Vesper tells him is get his hand off of her. The second is that she is not going to give him more money, because he lost that game due to his ego (a motif that had already been introduced at the beginning of the movie) and if he keeps playing now, he is going to keep losing. And then she leaves. This, and the dialogue in which she basically asks if she has to worry about Bond's breaking into her room and trying to force himself on her with Bond reassuring her he won't, were moments I really appreciated. The James Bond saga is not exactly well known to be fair to female characters and, especially, James Bond's love interests are often poorly written. They could have gone the easy route, they could have had Vesper trusting James blindly because he is the main character, but, instead, she stood up to him. I really, really like this decision. As James Bond has been cemented as an icon of masculinity, it is shown that not only even he can be wrong, but also that this is rightly pointed out by a woman. In this occasion, he's being emotional and illogical, while she is being the reasonable one. And I feel this is as relevant today as it was in 2006.

Favourite scene: the torture. I am not really crazy about torture scenes usually, but I really loved the one between James Bond and Le Chiffre. It's not just that the acting- especially on Daniel Craig's part- is phenomenal, it's what that scene means. According to my interpretation, based purely on how Craig played the character, that seems to be the first time James Bond has ever been tortured and you can see he's fucking terrified. And you see him going from terrified back to that mask of neutrality, even though it is now dented. There are moments in which pain slowly morphs into an exasperated laughter and James is turning to crude humour to deal with the situation because he has already made his decision- he won't give up the code, so he's gonna die there, if he is lucky. If he's not, many hours, if not days, of torture await him. It's a momumental test of an actor for Craig.

So, yeah, lots to love. Let's now move to what I didn't like.

The action. Not all the action in Casino Royale is bad, on the contrary, but a couple of things were simply goofy. Like the first bomber being a parkour God, especially compared to James Bond's clusmy ass? Top-tier comedy, maybe intentionally, maybe not. I know for a fact the dramatic zooms were not intentionally comedic, but alas. And I gotta ask, other than being the easiest way to kill off Vesper, what was the point of that last Venice action sequence? To me, that was really overdrawn and forgetful.

The wife of the first villain. Her dialogue about liking bad guys is very cringe and I don't know who directed Daniel Craig in the scene in which reacts to her death, but holy shit that's one of the worst sequence of the movie. At first he seems indifferent to her being tortured and killed, then M goes on her whole tirade about Le Chiffre, and then, suddenly, when she asks if James Bond can handle the mission, Daniel Craig is looking at dead body of the villain's wife doing the most exaggrated heavy breathing since the stuff you could find of Looney Tunes. And then says "no" in a completely neutral, and accidentally comedic, tone. Jesus Christ. What a shit show.

James Bond's character arc, a.k.a. the romcom act. Yeah, I know, I said I liked James Bond before. But I have beef with the way the character evolved. I would say I pretty much like what we see in 2/3 of the movie. The problem for me arrives post torture, when we are made believe we have finally reached a happy ending. Vesper and Bond declare their love to each other, great, it was to be expected. But the fact that a few days after that- at least it looks like a few days- James Bond is like "Yeah, no, I'm in love with you, I wanna quit my job and spend the rest of my life with you" feels very rushed to me. Sure, near death experiences really bond people together, but let's recap the events of this movie. At the beginning of the movie, James Bond has just become 007. If I am not wrong, Casino Royale is James Bond's first mission as a 00 agent. We don't know how much time he has spent hunting down the parkour-bomber of the beginning of the movie, but we know that something like 2 days later he is sent to the Bahamas, then goes to Miami, all in the span of 2 days, and then he gets sent to Montenegro for something like 3 or 4 days. At the end of the Montenegro section, there's the torture scene, so all we know is that he ends up in a hospital and stays there for an unspecified while (which he spends mostly unconscious) and it's at that point, after declaring his love to Vesper, that he goes "Yeah I don't want to be a spy anymore". Bitch, you have been a spy for less than a month and you have known this woman for 2 weeks at best, and I am counting the time you were unconscious. Am I the only one who feels this is rushed? Especially because, during a game of deduction he and Vesper played, Vesper seemed to rightly deduce James wanted to be a spy because he had a chip on his shoulder about proving is worth- did that just go away? Wow, James, you gotta teach me how to solve self-worth related issues that fast. And the canonical reason why James wants to leave the job is because it's "eating his soul away" or some shit like that, and he wants to leave with that little bit of soul he still got. Once again, bitch, please. You have not been on the job for one month, what the fuck are you talking about. Maybe it's because you're not used to have a job, Mr Bond, but every single job eats your soul away and you live with that, because otherwise you won't be able to pay the bills. Just to be clear, I'm not mad at the idea that James Bond wants to leave his job. I think it feels rushed and I think it's a little bit too obvious something will happen to Vesper at this point because there's no way James Bond is quitting the job in his first movie, but I would have accepted this change of heart from Bond if I had been given a good reason for it. For example, the fact that he has been tortured. To me, it would have made much more sense if James Bond would have been like "You know what? Being tortured is fucking terrifying, much more than I thought during my spy training, I don't think I can handle that again", I would have believed that. But instead, we got some bullshit on the soul. James Bond screenwriters, being afraid of torture doesn't make you any less of a man, I swear. All in all, James Bond deciding to change his entire life goals just because he fell in love seems the kind of shit writing the female lead would get in a shitty romance movie, not the one of the main (male) character of a spy movie. Maybe it's poetic justice, but I think James Bond somehow found himself a victim of what is usually regarded as misogynistic writing. He then regresses to the emotional maturity of a teenage boy who spends too much time on reddit when he feels betrayed by Vesper, while M has to explain as you would to a 5-year-old that Vesper, if anything, tried to save Bond. A very undignified main character arc, if you ask me.

Vesper's death. Why did Vesper basically kill herself? I genuinely thought her death was a Jack and Rose situation- they both could fit on the door! I think James would have been able to save Vesper if she only didn't lock herself in the elevator. The only explaination that I can give myself to that decision is that Vesper didn't want to live with the guilt of condemning her past lover to death in saving James.

I am not good at giving grades to movies, instead I will say this: it's definitely worth a watch if you're into spy movies and the bisexual panic induced by Eva Green and Daniel Craig will not leave you for a good while. If you're willing to be forgiving of a few sequences, it's a very enjoyable action flick.

Onto the last part: my quest to prove James Bond is aro and/or ace.

Why do I want to prove that? I guess if there were more aromantic characters I could just turn to them for representation, but I have to do everything by myself around here.

My reasons to believe James Bond is aro: as someone who, for the moment, identifies as aroallo, I really sympathise with characters that indulge in a lot of sex, but keep romance at an arm's lenght. I don't think they're shallow, I think maybe romance is simply not their thing, just like it's not mine.

My reasons to believe James Bond is ace: I think James Bond may have a pretty fucked up relationship with sex because of his job. His entire body basically belongs to the governemnt: it's a weapon to kill, a disposable dummy to be tortured and, in some occasions, an object of desire, used to seduce, possess and be possessed. You could pretty much say that a fraction of his job is similar to that of a sex worker. Far from implying that being a sex worker automatically fucks up your relationship with sex, I think being forced to have sex with people who you sometimes despise and who might want to hurt you or even kill you is not, like, the best thing ever. And also, while a sex worker can theoretically pick their clients, James can't. He has to seduce who is useful to seduce for the mission, regardless of how he feels about them. And, to top it all off, I like the idea of James Bond being ace because I am tired of the whole "James Bond is so cool because he fucks a lot and which man wouldn't want to fuck a lot". Maybe James Bond doesn't want to fuck a lot, or maybe he doesn't derive as much pleasure from it as people believe he does.

Okay, so. Starting with aro spectrum, even though James falls for Vesper, I think we still have good chances of him being aro, either fully aro or something like greyromantic. After all, aromantics can still, even if rarely, fall in love and I think, for the way the character of James Bond has been presented, him falling for Vesper was quite an unexpected/out of character thing for him. Him deciding ti quit his entire past life to be with Vesper...is truly just bad writing for me, but even accepting it, I don't think it makes him any less aro, because as I explained he could have had much better reasons to want to quite his job and, personally, if I fell in love with somebody after years of that just not happening for me, I wouldn't know how I would react. Maybe I would also call it a miracle and just roll with it.

About the ace spectrum, we see him seducing a villain's wife at some point, but I will be honest. That shit don't count. There is this moment in which the woman is like "I always fall for bad men😏" and James Bond immediately gets out of the sexy mood and goes "So would you say your husband is a bad man? Why? Because of his job?". He does a 180 and goes from wet dream to interrogator in less than a second. Plus, he seems to leave her without having sex with her to go chase her villain husband. Very professional of him, but also makes me think he was never that much into her as he made her believe. The whole thing felt too calculated on his part, I would definitely say he was faking the whole time. James does have very enthusiatic sex with Vesper, though. If I want to stick to what the movie implies, without going off the tracks with something like "he pretended to be enthusiatic during the whole thing but he was faking for Vesper's happiness", I may still go with the fact that he is for sure sex positive and maybe demi-sexual.

Well, if you have read until this point, I am genuinely surprised. You don't have that much to do, I guess, good for you.

Onto Quantum of Solace next, and I am already shaking: I know that movie is bad. I know about the writers strike. God help me.

#james bond #agent 007 #007 #casino royale #casino royale 2006 #casino royale (2006)#daniel craig #eva green #bondverse #vesper lynd #aro #aromantic #asexual #ace #arospec #acespec #movie review #movie analysis #movie

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weebsinstash · 1 year ago

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Not gonna lie if I were the reader after they got replaced by YouTwo I would be a neurotic mess lmao. I already mental issues but I can't imagine going through their trauma on top of everything. I would definitely be scratching myself again out of sheer stress and anxiety about whether or not everybody will replace me again. My arms would look horrible. Oh boy imagine everybody's reaction to realizing they've messed up this badly and absolutely ruined the reader

Other people: fun ways we can write! Coffee shop au! Red string of fate! Hanahaki! Enemies to lovers!

me: what if I sat and tried to seriously and realistically contemplate the ramifications of a severely traumatic experience and the following neurotic habits that arise from the spiral down

Reader gets back to Spider Society, either glitching back in or "being rescued" whatever, and, you're just doing shit like digging food out of the trash "you'd never guess what kinds of perfectly good stuff people throw away, and it saves time to not have to wait for anything to be prepped! Never know when you'll vanish in the middle of a meal or that one serial killer will pop out at you again!! Ahaha!

Someone comes to check on you and you deadass have a fucking, tripwire web trap all around you, you're not even sleeping in a bed you're in your own webbing (because we rock organic webbing here because it fucks) so the second anything like, opens the door of your apartment or comes near you, you're instantly aware. Peter B comes in "heeeey, just wanna check in, make sure you're doing ok--" and there's fucking web wires rattling cans as he opens the front door and suddenly you're wide awake with an actual fucking knife or some kind of equally brutal survivalist weapon and it takes you a few seconds to fully snap out of it and let him calm you down and he has to tell Miguel You Are In Fact Not Doing Ok

You've got real "scaring all your loved ones and everyone around you" energy during those times you're just like going through some manic shit, opening your mouth and going on a sudden 'epiphany' like "i know what would help!! I'm gonna start cutting my face in really visible prominent places and that way you guys will know by the scar who I am :) and when it heals I'll cut myself again :) and again :) maybe I should just cut off a finger, how many of me do you think are missing fingers? Or maybe I could give myself a cool scar!!" And it's just like. What the fuck do they even say to that. A lot of them just genuinely could cry over this, seeing what this did to you. You sound genuinely cheerful at the realization and give no mind to how casually you just suggested self harm out of paranoia and self preservation.

You're just having like hard-core eating disorder issues going from overeating to undereating, binging because you're suffer9ng trauma from starving and then starving yourself "no its fasting, I'm FASTING to save food and money and resources, ok, I can only fit so much in my backpack and--"

You have this backpack from your multiversal glitching travels and keeping it with you basically 24/7 even when you go to the bathroom becomes a comfort habit, because, "never know when your camp has been found by the runners and you've gotta make a break for it" or some other cryptic memory you babble at them like you're discussing coffee when it could be one of the most vile horrifying things they've ever heard

I think the most interesting but tricky thing I've thought of is, what if Reader's trauma-humor coping mechanism gets dialed up to 11 and you can basically never turn it off because, your brain is protecting yourself. It's like you're Doing A Bit but literally all the time like some traumatized method actor and you're just, they're never sure if you're actually telling the truth or actually recounting things you experienced after a while

"Oh man the last time I ate a meal this big was when I finally stopped glitching and I had to break into someone's house and rob them for food! Just call me Santa Claus! But this Earth had suffered a nuclear fallout so all they had was like, DRY CRACKERS and, a lotta canned stuff, icky, and, I was in the middle of trying to pry a tin of lil cocktail weenies open with my teeth when the irradiated house centipedes smelled my blood, just imagine like a normal centipede but, like, the size of a Shetland pony, hey, friendship really IS magic right, and me and these centipedes got SO close, so anyways they smelled my blood, right, and it made them hungry, and--" and here you got like The Entire Squad speechless, Hobies just over here like "fuck, I don't even know what to say to that, you want some ketamine bruv" and yall just hit em with "nah last time I tried ketamine I had a fever dream of being replaced by an evil clone and I was shunned by all my close friends who i thought of like family. Oh wait, that was you guys! That's awkward!"

#yandere spiderverse #sinprompts #yandere stuff

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littlefankingdom · 6 months ago

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~ Batgirl (2000)

They are sad and disappointed in themselves and they should be. What they did is not justice.

So, I'm mad about this issue, like really mad for personal reasons I will explain later. For context: a young girl has been kidnapped by a thief who escaped jail. It's not the first time said thief kidnapps this girl. This young girl, around 10 years old, is an artist and her mother exploits her, making money by selling her daughter's art. They are rich. This woman doesn't love her daughter, she loves the money she is making from her daughter. The man that keeps kidnapping this young girl? Her father. Her father that loves and cares for her, that turned to crime to take care of his daughter, and refuses to sell any art she makes because she made it for him, because she loves her father. And she pleads, she pleads Batgirl to let her with her father and not bring her back to her mother who doesn't love her, she pleads her to not put her father in jail. And what do Batgirl does? She stops the father, gives him to the cops and brings back the girl to her mother. On those panels, they are looking at a sad child with her abuser they brought her back to.

My mother doesn't love me. She will say she does to others, but it's not true and it has been the case for a long time, since I was very young. I wasn’t unwanted, I was just not what she wanted. My life was supposed to be centered, until my death, around taking care of my mother (she is not disabled or anything, she just wants people to do everything for her). Raised to make money I would gift to my mother, so she could have luxuries, but I was not successful in that. I grew up pleading for love, pleading for people to listen to my pain. Nobody did. I learnt that people prefer the comfort and peace of their lives over helping others. I learnt to distrust authority figures (teachers, doctors, any adults/people at least 5 years older than me in general), because either they were power hungry assholes who abuse kids, either they preferred to look away, who would tell me to be nice and listen to my mother. It's too much problem to help children. In the end, I could count on nobody but myself to get out. I can count on nobody but myself. I hate the system, and I promised myself I would never be like those who look away, I will defend any child that needs it.

So, to read a story where a little girl pleads a HERO to not bring them back to their abuser, only for said HERO to still bring her back to her abuser, to tell her to be nice and stay with her awful parent... I am furious. This issue is literally telling me that, if heroes existed, the heroes you adore since you are a child, they would not have saved you. They would have bring you back to your mother and told you to be nice, like everyone else. They would have let you go through those years of pain. Heroes would have looked away.

What is the logic here? Because it's neither justice or the good thing to do. That it is the law? Since when do they follow the law? I don't remember vigilantism being legal, or assault and battery, or owning all the weapons Bruce owns. Yes, it was still a kidnapping, her father is a criminal, it would not have been a good life for a child. But, the Bats could have tried to find a solution, instead of simply giving this child back to someone who will treat her like shit.

I know it's just a fiction, so it's not like a real child is being exploited and will be more abused later when she stops being good enough because her mental health deteriorated, nobody is going to become depressed and lose trust in heroes because the bats brought her back to her awful mother. And also, it's not the characters who are at fault, it's the writers. It's not about Cass and Bruce being bad people heroes, it's about who the fuck decided to write that. New entries in my list of enemies, Keller Puckett and Dylan Horrocks.

#batman #bruce wayne #batgirl #cassandra cain #dc comics #my ramblings #and let's not even talk about the takistan storyline after that because I'm also mad at this #propaganda telling you that the people defending themselves against a violent gov are as bad as their gov #no a war criminal planning a genocide because that's what is going on is way more bad than the “terrorists”#reading this with what is going on rn in Palestine was a ride #“we don't do politics” than let the guy kills the war criminal who is genociding his people Bruce let him #it's not like justice will stop a gov from doing what they are doing if you don't stop it nobody else but those “terrorists” will let them #I'm furious I cannot even explain how much I'm mad #Screaming crying breaking shit like I'm Jason Todd high on pit's madness

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angelsanarchy · 1 year ago

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One Long Weekend: - Clyde/YN One-Shot Series CH 05

"Thanks for letting me stay." "Thanks for staying."

Tagged: @roryculkinluvr Let me know if you want to be tagged in these updates.

SATURDAY, 2:15AM

Y/n looked at herself in the dirty mirror of Clyde's bathroom. The shirt he had given her fell to about the middle of her thigh. She silently wished she had at least worn shorts today so she would be more comfortable sleeping with something on her legs. When she walked out of the bathroom, Clyde had tossed a pillow onto the couch.

"So I can't guarantee the last time I cleaned the sheets but I did just wash the comforter so you should be good to go." Y/n looked over to the bed and realized he was giving up his bed for her.

"Clyde, I can't take your bed. The couch will be fine." Y/n tried to argue but he laughed.

"Trust me, the bed is much safer to sleep on than the couch. Especially if you have your legs exposed." Clyde took in the sight of you in one of the oversized band shirts he kept laying around the apartment.

"I guess I'll take your word for it. I'll make a mental note to burn my jeans once I get home." Y/n teased. Clyde had changed into soft pants but kept the same shirt on. He walked over to the door and made sure she was watching when he locked the door.

"Are you feeling safer already?" Clyde asked running his hand through his hair.

"I should be asking you that. Sorry about the whole...mauling you thing." Y/n could feel the heat in her cheeks and Clyde laughed.

"Mauling me? You sat on my lap. That's hardly grounds for public shaming." Clyde shrugged it off plopping back down on the couch. Y/n sat next to him, feeling much more exposed now that her legs were bare.

"I guess thanks for not holding it against me. I don't do this a lot...ever actually. I haven't spent a night away from my apartment in years, let alone with a guy I met at a club." Y/n explained seeing Clyde smile.

"You don't go home with guys who aren't even in the band to get high and have an impromptu date?" Clyde teased.

"No this is very out of the ordinary. I'm usually working my ass off or visiting my dad." Y/n confessed.

"You seem a little young to be a workaholic." Clyde wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to know what she liked, what she hated, why the hell she had given him the time of day and how he could get her to stay.

"Paying for an apartment and trying to keep my shit a float has been a bit more challenging than I'd like to admit. I wasn't really prepared to support myself at 18 but when you drop out of school and have no where else to go, it's kind of the only option." Y/n didn't like to talk about her home life. She hated when people showed her any sort of pity. She was in control of the decisions she made.

She dropped out of school to take care of her dad. She moved into a shitty apartment with a roommate in order to save money to afford his care facility. She could count on one hand how many people she trusted and confiding in Clyde didn't make a lot of sense to her either but she just felt like she could openly be herself with him.

"Hey dropout twins, let's go!" Clyde held his hand up for a high five and y/n shook her head meeting his hand.

"I'm not sure that's the thing we should have in common but I won't leave you hanging." Y/n laughed.

"Maybe it's not. We both seem to like live music. I don't want to get into favorite bands just yet because I don't want to lose this feeling I currently have." Clyde put his hand over his heart.

"Hey! What makes you think I like shit music? I happen to have a very eclectic taste in music." Y/n defended but Clyde put his finger to his lips.

"I'm not doubting that but we've had such a great first date, why chance it with the possibility of you liking Nickelback?" Clyde joked earning a playful slap to his chest.

"How dare you. Now I'm truly offended. I think I'm going to go see if Johnny will give me a ride-" Clyde reached out and grabbed y/n's hand.

"No no...if you approach Johnny without pants and ask for a ride, you'll definitely get more than you bargained for." Clyde seemed genuinely worried she was going to actually leave but instead she plopped back down next to Clyde, closer than before, him still holding onto her hand.

"If I had my pants on, I'd consider tasering you just for insinuating I was a Nickelback fan." Clyde softened and held your hand between his own, bringing the back of your fingers to his lips.

"My apologies. Thank you for resisting the reoccurring urge to taser me." Clyde's smile was intoxicating. She just wanted to feel his lips pull into a smile against her own.

"You're just lucky you're cute." Y/n tested seeing Clyde blush. She could feel a yawn crawling up her throat as she turned away and Clyde stood up, pulling her by her hands.

"You need to sleep. We can compare playlists tomorrow over breakfast...stale bagels or donuts?" Clyde asked leading her to the bed. She sat down and he tossed her a blanket.

"You know how to spoil a girl." Y/n grinned laying back on the comforter. It smelled of coconut shampoo and cigarettes. It wasn't an awful smell which was surprising. Rarely did she ever find herself surrounded by band guys who smelt halfway decent. Clyde jumped over the back of the couch and let out a heavy sigh.

The two of them laid in perfect silence, trying not to breathe too hard or start snoring randomly. Y/n moved around under the blanket trying to get comfortable and not get caught checking over by the couch where Clyde laid, one leg dangling over the back, arm stretched behind his head. Clyde felt tense. He hadn't ever just had a girl spend the night with him. Snow, Lola and the rest of their friends were different. None of them really looked at him the way y/n seemed to look at him, or flirt with him. He didn't want to make things weird or fuck this up. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to want to stay because of him, not because she was hot for one of the guys.

"Clyde?" Y/n broke the silence.

"Yeah?" He sat up to see her sitting up in the bed.

"Would you be completely opposed to just laying in the bed next to me? I just...its a big bed. There's no point in you sleeping on the couch and I don't want to wake up freaking out in a strange place." Y/n explained and Clyde shook his head.

"Yeah of course. I just didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable." Clyde walked over to the bed and laid down next to her carefully. He let her keep the blanket over herself and put his hand up when she tried to offer it to him. He laid on his side facing her and she smiled at him.

"Thanks for letting me stay." She said softly.

"Thanks for staying." Clyde returned equally as soft. The light in the room was dim but they could still see one another clearly. Y/n reached over and pushed some of Clyde's hair off his face and noticed his hearing aid for the second time this evening.

"How do sleep with your hearing aid in? My grandfather never kept his in to sleep. He said the slightest noises startled him." Y/n brushed her fingertips over the piece and Clyde brought his fingers up to hers.

"Um...I don't usually sleep really well anyway so I just don't bother taking it out." She was right. Clyde never took his aid out when he was sleeping in the apartment. Anyone could just sort of bust in and he never wanted to be caught off guard.

"Have you tried taking it out to sleep? Maybe that's why you can't sleep well." Y/n suggested.

"I used to at my Dad's but not here. You never know who'll sneak up on you." Clyde tried to joke but y/n scooted closer.

"The door is locked. I'm a light sleeper. Why not just taking it out while you have someone here to watch your back?" Clyde was surprised at her offer. No one really cared this much about his lack of sleep, let alone his comfort level.

"No pressure of course. I just...I want you to be able to be as comfortable as I am." Y/n didn't want to push Clyde into doing something he wasn't comfortable with but to her surprise, he leaned over her and removing his aid placing it on the nightstand next to her. She felt the trust he was putting into her by taking his aid out. She put her pinky out and Clyde laughed locking his pinky into hers.

"I gotchu." She mouthed. Clyde laughed shaking his head.

"I'm partially deaf, not completely deaf." He reminded laying back down. The silence that grew between them was so much more peaceful now. Y/n could feel the mattress moving whenever he moved, which wasn't a lot but after a while she could hear his soft snores. She peered over his shoulder and saw his mouth hung open, hair covering his face and his elbow as his arm stayed tucked tightly under his head. She glanced at the clock on her phone that barely had 20% charge on it and saw that it was 3:10 AM. That was the last thing she saw before she passed out, snuggled into a fuzzy blanket and a soft pillow that carried Clyde's scent into her dreams.

#electrick children #Clyde x y/n #Clyde #rory culkin #One Long Weekend Series #One Shot Series #y/n fics #5/18

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zagranismusic · 1 year ago

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TRANS WOMAN FACING THREAT OF HOMELESSNESS

CW//Depression, suicide, and verbal abuse

Hello, my name is Serena Zagranis, I’m 20 years old, and I’m a trans woman living in New England. My mother is holding homelessness over my head, stealing my money from work, and emotionally abusing me and I need help bad.

Long story short, I don’t live in a good environment. I currently live in a house with my mom and my disabled little brother, we’ve been having financial troubles since I was born. We currently live off government checks and food stamps which is barely keeping our heads above water. My mom is physically and mentally unable to work due to her disabilities. As such, I have become the defacto “breadwinner” of the house, I’m the one with the job bringing in money and the one relied on to buy food.

I need to move out of my house, my mom has decided she is entitled to my money due to my existence under her roof and I simply don’t feel safe in the house due to her emotional outbursts, gaslighting, throwing out my furniture, manipulation and frequent use of her trauma and my housing as a weapon. I’ve been berated for getting food delivered for myself and when I ask her why, she’s “blown away” and “anyone with actual responsibilities would see how ridiculous it is to pay that much for food” when she is very painfully aware that I have no transportation, no constant savings and barely any food money, and no real choice over how my own finances get spent. This is on top of her asking me for monthly rent and taking money from my account whenever she feels she needs it. Now, I am very much aware, and I do not like ordering out but I need to eat. When I talk about how I feel judged she takes that as me painting her as a “fucking ogre” and I’m “not aware how good I have it”. I have tried numerous times to explain it to her but she will constantly give me the silent treatment, tell me to move, not be a reliable source of transportation for my job, or just be passive aggressive to further prod and instigate.

I’m posting this here because I am simply scared that if my mom finds any of this stuff she will threaten me into deleting it and silencing myself from the world, as she feels I am misleading people and spending their money on “useless shit” when I should just save up myself and take initiative which she knows is impossible with how she’s treating me. It’s hard to do that when I’m constantly losing money due to her stealing it and having no way of standing up for myself considering the threats and manipulation.

Linked below is my gofundme to help me move out along with my kofi for commissions. The situation is not life threatening but my mental state has been spiraling more and more over the past year and because of it I’ve had to seek external mental help for suicidal ideation and general c-ptsd after years of this treatment. Please help donate if you can, and if not, a simple reblog would be amazing. Thank you all for reading.

https://gofund.me/2ec89945 https://ko-fi.com/zagranis

#transgender #lgbtqia #tw abuse #homeless #fundraiser #signal boost #signal boosting #donation post #mutual aid #queer #trans #gofundme #kofi #boost #girlslikeus

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rossellini-tyrell · 1 year ago

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Nothing's Gonna Change My World

Ch. 8 - i sat on a rug (biding my time, drinking her wine)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Word Count: ~7500 Pairing: Pavitr x F!Reader

Warnings:

THIS IS SMUT. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE SMUT, OR NOT BETWEEN THESE CHARACTERS, DO NOT TOUCH THAT KEEP READING LINK. Under 18? Please click out of this post! All characters here are in their early-mid 20s. things that happen: reader receives oral and it's cash money. Pav aesops a lot about healthy experiences. Gwen gets a little (or a lot OOC). also found on AO3 and Wattpad.

"I swear, I could have put the damn ring on Miles's finger myself after that!" gushes Gwen from her spot on your couch. She's tipsy, you're each on either your second or third hard seltzer, and your living room is starting to wobble and melt before your very eyes. "I would wholly support that," you agree. Gwen giggles in that overly familiar way, the one that tells you she's cooking up something wicked in that brain of hers. She leans in closer, slings an arm around your shoulder and peers at you through conspiratorially-squinted eyes. "So, (You), how's Pav?" she asks, a lilt in her voice that tells you there's definitely an ulterior motive to this seemingly innocent question. "Oh, he's great!" you reply, ducking out of wherever this is going. "He just raised another round of funding, so he's going to be able to expand his company more!" "That's great, but that doesn't answer my question," she says. "How. Is. Pav?" she enunciates. Her top two teeth peek out, pressing into her lower lip. You start to sweat, remembering the topic of conversation you'd been on. Gwen had given you the New York Times review of all the wild shit her and Miles had gotten up to since you last talked to her. You'd immediately learned that drunk Gwen has zero concept of propriety. "He is...the best, honestly," you deflect, but voice still deeply earnest. "I mean, can I ask for more than a handsome man with great hair who takes care of me when I'm sick, he even cleaned me up and—" "zzzzz, BORING!" Gwen shouts. She gives you a good-natured but maybe a tad too aggressive shove on the shoulder. "Skip to the good part, I want details!" "Gwen, I don't know if I should be—" you try to dissuade her. "Back when he was with Gayatri, we got trashed and she told me he was eating good, is that still true?" she whisper-growls with a saucy wink, in no way trying to lower the volume of her voice.

"Gwen!" you chide. Blood rushes piping hot to your face, heart absolutely banging off the walls of your chest. Gwen cackles maniacally and nearly spills her drink on your nice sofa. "Christ on a crutch, (You), your fucking face right now is precious! It's just a lil' girl talk, nothing here leaves this room, you get me?" she rambles. "Well, I mean, I wouldn't even know what to say about...about—" you stammer. "Oh come on! It's not like you're some kind of virgin or somethi—wait, holy shit, are you a virgin?" Gwen's eyes widen. You think she looks like a fish staring like that. "Oh my god, you're a virgin! That's so sweet!" she cooes at you. She reaches to pinch one of your cheeks. "No! No no no no, it's not like that! I'm not a virgin, definitely not, we just haven't—" you race to clarify, hands waving in front of your face. "Well what's the holdup, then? Are you guys trying to up the sexual tension? Are you saving yourselves for some special occasion or..." Gwen wonders aloud, before tapping her fingers together while her face morphs into a faux-dismayed expression. "You're not scared to be with him, are you?" "No way!" your rejection of the idea is immediate, emphatic. Gwen doesn't seem to have heard that, however, with the way she keeps on prattling.

"Like, I totally get it, he's Spider-Man, he's loaded, he's got some experience, he's really fucking attractive, that's intimidating and all for, like ninety-nine percent of everybody, but I promise he really wants to be with you too, you don't have to just fantasize when you—" "Gwennnnn, for Christ's sake, I do not fantasize about my boyfriend and—" you interrupt that very, very salacious thought. "What?! Why on Earth would you not? Who are you fantasizing to?? Is it Tom Holland??" Gwen questions in rapid-fire, face clearly scandalized. "What the fuck, Gwen. No," you deny. "I'm not fantasizing about any of these people, I'm not fantasizing, period." Gwen seems awfully confused by that statement. "But, how else is a girl supposed to get off by herself? I don't get it." You shrug your shoulders. "I don't know, I must be broken or something. I've never had an orgasm," you deadpan. "You what??" Gwen sits up ramrod straight, flabbergasted. "What?" a shocked third voice sounds outside the apartment. Followed immediately by a blur of red and blue at the window near your fire escape, and then a heavy crash. You and Gwen share an alarmed look for a moment. You can almost see the steam coming out of Gwen's ears, she marches over to the window, pulls it open, and with a terrifying force, yanks the eavesdropper into the apartment by the hair. "Ow, ow, shit!" the voice yelps. It's very familiar, you realize. Because it's your boyfriend. "Pavitr Prabhakar, you have five seconds to explain to me why in the fuck you were spying on our private conversation—" Gwen starts reading him the riot act. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to..." Pavitr's groveling, apologies awkwardly spilling from his lips like a leaky P-trap. You don't stick around to hear them. You about-face and beeline to your room to curl up and die of mortification, only briefly stopping to consider that you just watched your seemingly-normal human friend drag a superhero into the apartment by the hair, like she might bring in a small bag of groceries. How much did he hear? Would he think worse of you? Did he hear Gwen talking about his— Nope, we're not doing this today.

You belly-flop onto the bed. Your pillow makes a great set of earmuffs, and doubles nicely as a dark cave to stick your head into while you hear Gwen and Pavitr arguing (more accurately, Gwen winning the argument in a one-sided fashion while your boyfriend tries and fails to form a coherent sentence) in the kitchen. Your head is spinning, dust kicking up from discussions put to the side for far too long that is now filling your lungs. You're not sure why you and him haven't talked about this, whether it was fear, nerves—

Was he scared of you?

You're not sure how long you're hiding there for, but there's one, two, three soft knocks, the squeal of your door-hinge, then, a dip in your mattress. You know it's Pavitr right away when you feel the soothing stroke of a hand on your upper arm.

"Can I hide under there too?" he softly asks.

The idea of your big, strong, superhero boyfriend being scared of Gwen Stacy makes you giggle (although it's not hard to be scare of Gwen Stacy, if you're honest with yourself). You lift the pillow up and make some room on the bed, he lays down on his side to face you, suit and all, save for his mask.

"I'm sorry if I said anything that was—" you begin.

"I'm sorry I was listening to your—" he talks across you.

You both pause. Pavitr sighs heavily and rubs his sore scalp.

"I deserved that," he admits.

"I'm not so sure you did. The direction that conversation was going was..." you trail off, you gesture vaguely in front of you, trying to communicate something to the effect of "cringe".

"You aren't broken," he says suddenly, determined.

You snap your head up to meet his eyes. They're serious and shine with resolve.

"I'm...I don't get it," you say.

"You're not broken for never having an orgasm. And I'm not convinced you can't," he explains.

You chew on the thought for a bit.

"I mean...I've tried on my own, until I just gave up. That sounds like a 'me' problem," you mumble.

"Look, I know you might not believe me, and I know you might not even be interested but..." Pavitr hesitates, runs his hand through his thick, black hair. "I'll give you one. Or as many as you want, I don't know. And I don't want you to worry about doing anything for me, or for anything to hurt, I just want...fuck, (You), my heart broke when I heard that," he admits. His mouth is wilted into a pained frown.

Your face droops, you hate the idea of sweet, sensitive Pavitr being sad on your account.

"Pav, I don't want to get your hopes up though, I feel bad already that with all of the—the bullshit in our lives I haven't taken the time to think about your own needs and—"

"No. You're the one who had three boyfriends that couldn't be assed with your needs, and were put in a situation where your choice was taken away from you, even though it didn't get anywhere," he cuts you off immediately with an open hand below your collarbone. "The only 'need' I have is the need to show you it can be so, so good when you're with someone who loves you. But only on your terms, only ever when you feel the time is right."

You feel the urge to turn away, but you can't resist Pavitr's puppy-dog eyes, the kind he gets when he sees a stray animal that he wants to adopt on the spot.

"You seem very invested in this," you tell him, like it's a strange idea. Should it be?

"I just wanna make my girl feel good" he cooes. He pulls your face against the hollow of his throat. "Hobie told you once that you could ask for whatever you damn-well wanted, and I wouldn't say no. He's not wrong, you know."

"So you are an eavesdropper!" you accuse him.

"Okay, the Amazing Spider-Man has a minor personality flaw, sue me," he snarks, but is sure to drop a kiss in your hair after the words leave his lips. "My point stands, though. If there's anything you ever wanted to try, I'd love to do it for you. That includes giving you your first orgasm. And your second, your third, your forty-eighth—"

"Forty-eight?" you gasp.

"That's really not that many!" he protests, which earns him a well-deserved flick to the forehead from you. "But, in any case, it's up to you. Like I told you when we first got together, all at your pace, sweet girl. If the thought strikes your fancy, just say the word."

"I'll think about it," you agree.

"That's all I can ask of you," he says, and brings your hand to his lips to kiss your palm.

---- The heat in Pavitr's room is stifling. The air conditioner isn't cutting it, you're in a tee and sleep shorts while he's shirtless in jeans, you only have the energy to watch an old sitcom on the bedroom TV while Pavitr works out the fatigue from your sore feet. You lay with your legs across his lap, hissing when the pad of his thumb digs in to your arch. "Darling, you have to start wearing actual shoes when doing big chores," he gently chastises you. "A slipper is a shoe," you argue back. Pavitr's thumb arcs up towards of the ball of your foot and you wince when he lands on a tender spot. "Your poor, abused feet don't seem to think so," he retorts. "Well, then you can make it better later with those magic hands of yours, mister 'I'm so good at everything'", you declare. Pavitr snickers, his thumbs find their way to the lower end of your calf, just above your ankle. "I'm good at a lot of things, dove, but not everything," he says in dulcet tones, one corner of his mouth quirked up just so. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe it's the perfect amount of pressure his hands are putting on your leg. Maybe it's the silky feel of his voice when it resonates in your ears. But today, you start to notice a difference. You feel...aware, like a deep itch, well below the layers of skin, muscle, fat. A thirst, yet, your mouth feels full and cottony from the humid air of the room. "You're very good with your hands," you praise. The knot in your leg dissipates, and he moves on, this time pressing at the outer side, halfway up near the heart of the muscle. You exhale as he draws slow, deep circles into the tension there, it's achy, but it's pleasant, too. Pleasant in a way that makes your legs twitch, something that Pavitr doesn't miss under his thumb. "So I've been told. Among some other things," he purrs. This tone has always brought you to your knees when he used it, and he knows it. Today, however, the shiver you feel isn't the same as the others, instead of a nervous, delighted tickle, it curves lower, warmer, lingers a bit beneath your ribcage in a thick haze.

Pavitr lifts your leg by the calf, places an open-mouthed kiss over the imprint his thumb left there. Then, a second one next to it, intentional, calculated. The stuffiness of the room is so much you think you could scoop it into a glass and drink. "Pav..." you murmur. It's a little bit questioning, a little bit commanding, a little bit hesitant. The show's laugh track rings obnoxious in the background. "Sonu...you should take me up on that offer," he suggests. Or is it pleading? "...Right now?" you gulp. You can feel your pulse in your voicebox. "If you wanna," he affirms. "You don't need to do anything, just relax and...enjoy." The juncture of your thighs starts to feel uncomfortably sticky against the fabric of your shorts, you fight the urge to press them together. "What did you have in mind?" you inquire. Pavitr rolls over to kiss at your shin, then the inside of your knee before crawling up your body to level with your ear, you can feel his breath tickling the shell. "I think Gwen mentioned to you that I'm happiest when I'm eating well," he husks directly into it, and then traces the inner rim of it with the very point of his tongue. You shiver from the contact, from his words, the way they felt so close to your skin, or the teasing of his tongue, you're not sure which. You're definitely pressing your thighs together now. "Good luck with that. It's been tried, and hasn't worked," you warn him. You hate the idea of him doing all that hard work for no reward. Pavitr is nonplussed, he takes your face in hand to kiss you slow, beginning the dance you know well by now. "Did whoever was trying give you head for its own sake? Or were they trying to butter you up with oral so they could say they did before doing what they wanted?" he asks pointedly, one eyebrow quirked. You don't have to think about it for very long, you've never been given this on its own. Only before sex, and it'd be difficult to argue they were into it, or trying particularly hard to please you. "You're probably right. I don't think they were trying too hard at all. But I should have felt...something, right?" you wonder. Pavitr sighs and sadly shakes his head. "There's a world of difference if someone really wants take their time and make you feel good, instead of just half-assing it so you'll give in. It also helps to have...skill, which I can promise you, I have plenty of," he slips you a wink and licks his lips, and the subsequent jolt of thrill makes your core twitch. "All you need to know is that this is for you. I wanna give you oral because I love you, dammit. No strings, no bullshit, just very, very good head. I'll give you the best orgasm of your life, and it's going to be amazing. Sound good?" You worry your lip with your canine, thighs squeezing together at the image he's planted in your head. Pavitr waits for your reply patiently, he's not leering, his expression is fond, gentle. He's never led you astray before, so he wouldn't now, right? Right? "But...if I can't?" you trail off, leaving Pavitr to fill in the blank. He does, with ease, one hand takes yours and gives it a soft squeeze. "If something's not working for you, we can change it. If it doesn't happen today, then no hard feelings, we'll go back to what we were doing. Even if you don't orgasm, sex can still feel really good in and of itself," two of his long, elegant fingers walk along your arm while he talks, voice even and mellow. "And when you feel done, we'll be done. It's like a conversation, we go down a line, and change the topic when it feels right to," he explains, kisses your knuckles on the back of your hand. "I think I can get you there, I think you just weren't given a fair shake and need someone to actually try. But if it doesn't happen, we can try again another time. Or never, you're wonderful all the same." You exhale through pursed lips. "Okay, I'd like to try at least," you acquiesce. Pavitr nudges your chin with his hand. "Do you want to try? Or do you just feel like you should because I asked?"

You understand immediately what he's asking. His eyes are soft, but stern, he scans your face for any sign you are simply appeasing him, rather than agreeing of your own enthusiasm. He's searching for fear and apprehension where there should be desire, curiosity. You don't think you've ever been asked this, and while you can't say your past experiences were ever coerced, save for the circumstances under which you and Pavitr met, you're grateful that he's thinking of this.

"I do want to," you confirm. "I'm...nervous that I'll be disappointed again, but what you're offering feels different from what it's been like...before. You've never given me any reason not to trust you, and I'm ready to try if it's with you."

You smile up at your boyfriend, and Pavitr seems satisfied with this answer. His eyes darken further than the rich cocoa they already are, and he leans in to kiss your mouth deeply, explores every ridge, every surface of it with his tongue, a little preview of his repertoire.

"I am going to eat you up so well, for hours," he rasps directly into your ear, leaving you shuddering, getting even wetter at the seam of your shorts. "On my bed, on the kitchen counter, in my car, on my desk at work after everyone's gone home, every damn day if I have to until you come on my tongue. You deserve that much, dove." His lips ghost on the shell, then along the hollow of your throat, where he leaves gentle, slow little nips and sucks while he crawls back down your body.

You have enough sense to turn off the television before he's back over your legs, kisses and suckles getting closer and closer to the hem of your sleep shorts. Your breaths catch and stutter, each little contact a sweet torture that leaves you jumping under his mouth, your center grows slicker and you'd think he could smell you from here.

And then, to your surprise, he stops. He reaches behind you for one of the pillows.

"Lift your hips a bit for me, darling," he instructs, the tone of his voice honey-sweet.

You comply, confused, and he slides the pillow beneath them.

"What's this for?" you ask.

Pavitr grins brightly and plops a smooch on one kneecap.

"So my girlfriend is comfy, of course!" he says in a voice almost inappropriately upbeat for the situation.

Your heart melts at this thoughtfulness, never has anyone you know associated the word "comfy" with sex, but with someone as attentive as Pavitr, you're learning things can be different. Maybe those words should go together, you think.

Pavitr's nails catch on the waistband of your sleep shorts, they pause there.

"Yes?" he asks, looks to you for your assent through the dark curtain of his fringe.

You're frozen in time when you meet his eyes. It's not a particularly hard choice. It's easy enough to say no, sorry you're not ready for that. Or even ask if you can reschedule to next Wednesday, maybe work it in between the gym and your dentist appointment. He'd be happy to drop it and continue doing what you were doing, wait a hundred years if he had to. What sways you is when you meet his rich, coffee-colored eyes and there's no

want I want gimme give it lemme grab tug squeeze grab take have

You're so used to that by now. No, these eyes are soft, round, curious, even. Curious to know this part of you, to share this with you, a whispered secret on the breath of butterfly wings. To give you something that was always denied, see the way your face would light up when you got there. By the look on his face, you knew Pavitr wasn't lusting after you and what was under the shorts, no, he wanted to try, and you knew that he'd only ever try if it was for you.

"Yes," you affirm. There's no warble in the note of your voice.

Pavitr grins, lazily and closed-mouthed, hooks his fingers around the elastic and starts working the whole thing down in one shot, shorts and underwear all. Warm lips press to the bony cradle just above your mound, your hips twitch under their smack.

"Thank you for trusting me with your body, sweet girl," he says. "I promise you, you will not regret this."

The shorts are worked over your knees, your ankles, and then they're off. Your knees drop off to the sides, you ponder closing them for a moment, covering yourself up like the shy virgin you once were all that time ago. That thought doesn't get a chance to linger, as sloppy, sucking kisses are quickly alternating up your inner thighs, firm enough not to tickle, but enough for the muscle to tense beneath Pavitr's mouth with a yelp, the sensitive spot a direct line to your exposed core.

"Aanhh—" you whine as Pavitr gets closer and closer to where you'd really like him to be. He does get awfully close, the rounded point of his nose bumping against the juncture of your hip and thigh, the corner of his mouth brushing the curve of your vulva as he inhales, smiles. Suddenly, the really nice pressure is sadly gone, Pavitr's propped up on his elbows and gazing down between your legs, while you're slack-jawed huffing and puffing from arousal.

"You're really pretty here," he husks. He mouths at the soft swell just below your navel with deep mauve-colored lips, lets warmth curl up there.

"Why are you staring?" you whinge, averting your eyes.

"Why not? This part of you is divine," Pavitr waxes poetic. "And you deserve to be told as much, because it doesn't sound like you've been hearing it."

"Umm...thanks? I guess?" you sputter, incredulously. You want to shrink away from the compliment, but your boyfriend (your insufferable sap of a boyfriend) isn't having it.

"Shush, you," he jokingly chides, his breath hot against your delicate flesh. "Go away. Let me explain to my girlfriend that her pussy is perfect in peace."

"Pavitr, you're obnoxio—oh FUCK!" your words are cut off with a cry as your entire cunt is swallowed up in a sucking kiss, like the ones Pavitr had dotted along your thighs. There's nothing lazy or perfunctory about this, the suction is just right and there's nothing like the way his soft lips feel sliding against your intimate skin. He pops off with a wet, lewd smack that rebounds around the bedroom.

Pavitr snickers lowly at your reaction, and turns his head to take each of your lower lips between his, run his tongue along and beside the soft, fatty parts before delicately suckling the inner lips betwixt them. His next kiss finishes with a deep lick, one that parts your lower lips at the seam and makes you jump when a wet tongue brushes past your clit.

"Good?" he asks, an inquisitive arch on his brow as he attempts to get a glimpse of your face. His mouth doesn't leave your pussy, simply ghosts against it when he speaks. It's a hint of a touch that makes you prickle, teeny frissons along your spine from your core that sprout behind your ears.

"Very," you tell him, nodding furiously, hoping that will spur him to get on with it.

Pavitr smears a messy, affectionate kiss to the inside of your left thigh before securing his hands on the crests of your hips.

"Love you," he purrs. He nuzzles against the inner thigh with his cheek before returning to his work.

Pavitr treats you to a make-out session with your lower lips, his tongue and lips exploring every dip and curve he can find. Every flick, kiss, suck, even gentle tugs between his teeth carries intention, you can feel the weight of it in each stroke. This is not the same halfhearted attempts at the pretense of 'doing his part' you're used to, he's losing himself to the task, eyes fluttered shut behind the ebony drape of his hair as he drinks you down. It's the same way he moves his mouth when he takes a bite out of a ripe mango, your wetness dripping down his chin when he slurps on your sex. "Pavi....Pav...hah..." you wheeze. Your chest heaves in harsh breaths as a delicious, gentle heat stretches out low in your belly and finds a home there. Your boyfriend steadily continues to make love to you with his mouth, you can't resist locking your ankles together atop his upper back, he responds in turn by scooching your hips just that little bit closer, wanting as close to zero space between his tongue and your intimate flesh as possible. "Your taste, it's sofuckengood, fuck," Pavitr slurs into your cunt. You notice him shifting around just out of your field of vision. Is he...rutting his hips into the bed? Pavitr licks straight up your seam on the flat of his tongue, ends with a suck on your clit that's enough to pull it out of its hood. A sharp bolt of pleasure triggers your cunt to clench around nothing. "Holyshitholyshitdontstop" you babble to the room. Your feet kick out behind him, your hand that was bunching up the flat sheet flies to his shade-colored waves, tangles in the dense mop of hair to hold his face against your pussy. "That's the plan, dove," Pavitr rasps. He gets right back to it, delivering the same treatment to every part of your pussy. The two-o'-clock sunlight streams in rich sheafs through the window, it leaves amber dapples on his back that bend and stretch with every flex of his well-developed back muscles, they collect in the valley of his spine, the two little dimples that sit above his waistband.

This? This is nice. It's nice like this, the both of you laying here, embraced by the mid-day sun. Pleasure laps at you like waves at low tide, it's warm, warm like the sand between your toes. Your boyfriend is taking your pussy apart with his mouth, the touch of his tongue isn't teasing, neither harsh, nor lazy. It's earnest, steady, and oh is it affectionate, too. He's not here to pay some sort of toll or fee to access your body, he's basking in how wet you're getting for him, the plush of your skin against his lips, your heady scent, the sharpness of your flavor on his tongue. Pavitr's mouth cherishes this entire part of you the same way he does to the rest of you with his words. He's in no hurry, but he has no intention of making you beg or plead for your first release, he simply wishes to take you by the hand and lead you there, walk you to the door and kiss you goodnight at the threshold of a place you didn't believe existed. He knows the way, has learned the road well, and guides you there with no fuss. Yes, you think, this is nice. It starts out as a fullness, a pressure on the inside that makes you want to tighten up, squeeze around it and keep it from getting out. The pleasure sitting heavy in your belly becomes urgent, it sinks low, low, lower. The sensation is strangely familiar to you, but it's off. You feel like you're about to burst, about to— "Pavitr, stop, I'm gonna—I have to—" you reach with your free hand to stop him. Pavitr finds your hand with one of his, takes it and laces your fingers together.

"Hey. No, sweet girl, this is good. You're supposed to feel that. It means you're here," he explains, gives his head a shake so you can meet his eyes without his hair in the way. A thumb strums back and forth along the dorsum of your hand. "All you have to do is let it ride. I'll catch you, I always have," he reassures. Your head feels like it's full of bees, it feels like there's a water balloon sitting low in the cradle of your pelvis, it's scary, it's intimate, but you want more. "You promise?" you ask timidly. It seems silly to ask this of him, but you do anyway. Pavitr responds with a kiss, the softest one yet, to your lower lips. "Baby girl, I'd promise you everything," he almost growls into your pussy.

Pavitr renews his focus onto your clit, taking it between his lips and tracing upon it the outlines of flower petals with his tongue. He sups on you, over and over again, batters your pearl about with the point of his tongue, coaxing it out from its protective cloak with a please please oh please pretty please. He does not demand, he waits, arms outstretched. The fullness and urgency quickly returns, you clench down, breath held instinctively. You can't hold it anymore, you yank on his hair, and he moans into your vulva when he feels the sharp twinge on his scalp. You feel like you're going to pop and his face is right there eating you and he said he'd catch you and he's holding your hand when you pav pav pav please oh please pav i have to It's warm here The molten heat nested below your navel loses its shape, pours like molasses down your legs, between your ribs, to the points of your fingers and burbles at your throat. Warm, sticky, wet, spilling out of your core in a steady trickle. Your voice catches in a sigh, the floor of your ribcage drops as the tension eases away in a steady throb, you feel it in your cunt as Pavitr keeps on drawing mindless doodles over your clit with his mouth. It's not fireworks, it's not an explosion, it's sunrise on the roof, three o' clock on the beach in July, it's hot chocolate in December, sticky sweet affection poured into you through your sex and spilling out over the edges. It's a safe place, a joyful place, bubbly, bright, and warm. A place, a home he built for you beneath your skin, in a grove you've been too wary, too exhausted to claim as your own. He presses the key into your palm, at long last, and you are all too happy to invite him inside, in that space between your ribs. Your eyes flutter shut as a gentle tongue laps slowly, soothingly at your swollen flesh, cleans up your release as you give yourself over to the ebb of the tide. Lips tenderly trail up your mound, your navel, your sternum, your nose. Hands cup your face as the lips find purchase on your forehead, your unfocused eyes open to fuzzy strokes of bronze, charcoal, ivory. "Yes, Ahava, hello. Hi," Pavitr purrs. Your eyes adjust, the blotches of color wend into a familiar form, and there he is. He's positively glowing, both with a fondness and pride, not of himself, but for you, like he's swallowed down the sun itself. His chin and mouth bear a fine gloss from your wetness. "Whazzat? Pav?" you burble, your tongue fumbling with the words. You find that you've been curiously transformed into a pile of mush, your corporeal form broken free of its solid container.

Your boyfriend chuckles above you, and brushes a few downy hairs off your forehead where sweat holds them down.

"How's that orgasm treating you?" he smugly inquires. "...S'nice," you slur, not quite realizing how dopey your face must look. "Kinda feels like I have to pee." Pavitr covers his mouth with his hands to hide his laughter. "Alright, well, you hang tight and enjoy the afterglow, beautiful. I just need two seconds to take care of something real quick," he says. You watch as he reaches over the side of the bed and fishes around for something. "Where are you going?" you ask, a wave of sadness and worry coming over you, remembering past partners who would never stay when the act was said and done, leaving you to your feelings. "Nowhere, silly," he teases, tongue stuck out. "Just gotta make a wardrobe adjustment, then all the snuggles you can handle, I promise." You find yourself unable to reply when he works his jeans off of his hips, and the boxer-briefs with them. The tips of your ears heat up like a gas grill when you're given a generous glimpse of prominent hip bones, lithe, defined quads, and an absolutely sumptuous ass that makes your mouth water, you resist the urge to sink your teeth into it. "Hey, Pavitr, I can, 'yanno, return the favor," you offer. "Oh, that won't be necessary," he quickly replies as he skips the boxer briefs and pulls on a pair of sweats he'd left on the floor. A hint of something you can't put your finger on tinges the timbre of his voice, and that's when you notice the flush in his cheeks. Oh.

"Pav...did you...?" you hesitate to say it out loud, your brain refusing to form the words. Pavitr crawls up the bed next to you, immediately rewarding you with the tightest, most perfect snuggle he's ever given you. You're face to face, noses but a hair's breadth apart. "As a matter of fact, I did," he admits, turning his cheek into the pillow. "Knowing I was giving you this experience and seeing how much you were enjoying it, it was so damn erotic and I couldn't help but go off the edge with you. Imagine that, being the woman that made Spider-Man come in his pants by just being." "Well, I'm glad I could do that for you," you jape. Your head feels less foggy, the afterglow abating to something cozy and secure, nicely contained in Pavitr's hold. "I'm glad I could do this for you," he counters with a tap of a finger to your nose. "This was all for you, anyway, you owe me nothing. I knew you could do it, and I'm so proud of you. You just needed a patient hand. Or tongue," he winks. "You're insufferable," you groan, burying your head against his bare chest. Pavitr chortles and kisses the top of your head. "I'm talented. And I have many, many orgasms to make up for," he rebukes. His voice feels like silk, it's dripping with ego and it makes your mouth go dry. "Hopefully they're all like this one was. I keep hearing that it's supposed to be...erm...explosive, but this one was just...nice," you comment. Pavitr considers this a moment, and then you know you fucked up when you see his lips quirk into a wicked grin, a devilish gleam in his eye as one hand tightens its grip around your bare hip. "I see...say, I don't think I ever returned the favor for that upside down kiss you gave me when we met," he muses aloud. "No, I don't believe you did," you confirm, wondering where he's going with this. "Oh..." he rises to a kneel on the bed, the covers falling away to expose your calves. "Then I guess now might be a good time to do just that," he proposes.

"What do you mean by tha—ohgod!" you yip, as Pavitr uses his enhanced strength to pull you down the bed by your ankles, and then hoist your thighs all the way up to his ears, his hands settling on your hips. You're nearly suspended entirely upside-down and he's immediately ravaging your sensitive cunt with this mouth, lewd smacks rebound around the room as the blade of his tongue digs deep between your lower lips. "Jesus fuck, Pav, why are you so good at everything?" you whine, your heels thumping against his back, an expression of the pleasure rapidly coursing through your body. Pavitr doesn't reply to this, only hums an acknowledgement into your pussy. At this angle, the extra pressure from his face on your clit does a lot of work, and being manhandled by your superhero boyfriend like a ragdoll...yes please. His fingers curl into the flesh of your thighs, his lips lathe aggressively at your inner lips and clit, you can only watch as he pulls his head up just enough to tug at them with a firm suck that makes something deep in your core light up like Christmas, and then releases them with a salacious pop before going right back in to swallow, to consume, to lap you up until there's nothing left to. Pavitr's playing for keeps this time, he's not looking for a gentle release, he wants to give you the orgasm you've only heard about in stories, one that knocks you on your ass that you'll still feel the next morning. He's nothing if not a show-off, and that trait of his is on full display.

"Pavitr Prabhak—ah!" you moan, your legs flailing behind him. "You smug jackass! It's not faaaaaaair!"

Your kicking and screaming (literally) does nothing. Pavitr doesn't let up, his lips and tongue devour and his face smashes into your pussy in relentless pursuit of your climax. You squirm, but his mouth chases, and with you upside down in what you would have never expected the Spider-Man kiss to entail, you're helpless to stop it, vulnerable and ripe for the taking. But you're safe. Cared for. Loved. You can feel it in how his grip on you is gentle enough to leave no marks, the way his thumbs stroke over the skin there. The way he bends forward just enough to keep your head and shoulders on the pillow so you won't hit them on anything, or get dizzy. This scene is filthy, pornographic even with his athleticism, but as your second peak of the night comes hurtling at you, neither of you have ever felt more in love than you do right now. You have trusted him with your body in all ways like you rarely have before, and he's more than shown you he's worthy.

You come with a shout, you clench hard on empty space until you can't, it feels like a sneeze, an insane blossom of pure ecstasy from your center that blooms in a riot of red, pink, yellow, orange behind your eyelids. You feel your cunt gushing, squirting even, followed by an immense relief. Your heart pounds in your ears, your ribcage struggles to expand and contract with your breathing, it feels like you're flying, soaring in the wind. There's a fizzling, tickling feeling creeping along your arms and legs and worming its way into your brain, your pussy feels aflame, overtaxed despite the calming strokes Pavitr is now using to soak up your juices. Your abs feel sore, and you feel physically and emotionally drained, the overstimulation hits all at once, and—are you crying?

"Awww little love, it's okay. Come here, darling, I've gotcha, shhhh," Pavitr's voice breaks through the swell of emotions frothing in your chest, he sets your legs down and bundles you close beneath the blankets. "You've been through a lot of new things today, sonu. You're overwhelmed, it's completely normal and your mind just needs a minute to sort itself out," he explains, you turn your head to see all traces of mischief gone from it, only soft features remain. The flat of a hand drags up and down your spine, warm lips dot squishy kisses along your cheek and temple. "I—I thought I was broken," you blubber. "I've been trying for years." "Not broken at all, no ma'am, I even double checked," he quips with a wink. It makes you snort and you can't stop yourself from swatting his chest. "You simply hadn't been shown how sex is supposed to be: none of it works if you're not feeling safe or secure first," he says more seriously. The blunt edges of his nails slowly drag along your back, scratching carefully, it's deeply satisfying and it makes you feel calm.

"So you're saying I couldn't for so long because...I wasn't feeling safe?" you ask, past memories starting to click into place.

"Mmm, precisely so," Pavitr hums. An unhurried kiss is fluttered against your lips, the flavor a bit different than the ones before, you wonder if it's you that you're tasting. "Sex is art, dove. It doesn't just come down to technique, if your mind is worried or not feeling cared for, you're not going to be able to be vulnerable with yourself enough to feel good, or your partner, for that matter. Your partner needs to be invested in your experience, and not as a means to an end for them," he explains, his nose nuzzling yours now. "That means taking the time to make you comfortable, listening to you and instead of rushing you through, and for fuck's sake, they need to give proper aftercare, Jesus," he finishes his rant with a grumble. The protective hold around you tightens, cuing you to snuggle closer into your boyfriend.

"Aftercare...is that why I got upset when an ex went to play video games when we were done?" you ask, everything suddenly making so much more sense.

Pavitr shudders and pulls you even closer, if that were possible, you burrow into his chest. Your legs tangle together under the blanket as he kisses the space between your eyebrows.

"Oh my God, why are men like this," he mumbles under his breath. "Yes, aftercare is making sure your partner is feeling okay and safe after you're done. Sex is intense, physically and emotionally, and if they weren't making the effort to take care of you like this after, it's no wonder you didn't have any fond memories of it. I hate that those were your first experiences, but that will never happen again, I can promise you that."

"Oh...so right now, this...this is aftercare?" you ask shyly. You think it sounds silly at your big age to be asking this, but since you're both putting everything on the table, you might as well learn for the future.

Pavitr senses the discomfort and tips your chin up to meet his eyes. They're still sparkling, but carry a stern edge to them.

"Hey, there are no dumb questions with me," he firmly reassures, his eyes softening further. "Yes, this is one way aftercare can look. It can also mean things like...like rubbing their back, or watching a movie they like together. Maybe even taking a bath with them or giving them a massage, just little things to reassure them and help them come down gently from an intense moment. It's the best part, in my book," he purrs.

You're inclined to agree. You're all tuckered out, your limbs have definitely turned to jelly with no chance of reconstitution, you feel buzzy on the inside in the best way, and it's warm and toasty here under the blankets, tangled up together, his bare skin on your cheek. You're basking in each other's afterglow and he's lavishing as much affection on you as he's got to offer, there's nothing closer, nothing better than this. Well, except maybe one thing...

"Can we...can we take a bath too?" you suggest, uncertainly.

Pavitr scrunches up his round nose as his eyes wrinkle at the corners.

"You act like I'd say no to that. Of course we can, dove!" he exclaims. "You're the one who had her first two orgasms in a row, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't let you pick?" he's already hefting himself off the bed to carry you there himself.

"Together with me?" you kiss at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, all you can reach from his hold, your feet dangle limply in the bridal carry. Pavitr looks down on you with a besotted expression.

"I like the sound of that," he cooes in your ear as you cross the room. "And I wanna wash your hair with my shampoo again, I loved smelling it on you the next morning."

"But Pav, your shampoo is expensive!" you protest.

"You just had a screaming orgasm, like, ten minutes ago, let me spoil you at least a little," he counters. He nudges the door open where it's ajar with a hip check, being sure not to jostle you.

"That's already spoiling me!" you argue.

Pavitr laughs, deeply kisses your mouth like he did your center, and closes the bathroom door behind him with his heel.

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