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#(if you discover something that works better for yourself let me know that too so i can share with everyone!)
honeyboylovee · 2 days
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i can do it (for you)
Pairing: Non-idol!Vernon x reader
Word count: 1k
Genre: Fluff, Angst(just a little cos I can’t, for the life of me write angst), implied strangers to lovers
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, reader refuses to accept any help, mentions of negative experiences from the past
A/N: Before saying anything else, I have to say that I am not satisfied with the ending. But I really do not know how to end this. Also this is a little different from my previous works. This may or may not be written from personal experiences. Also, I did a little word play in the title if you guys notice that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading! Feedbacks are appreciated.
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You believe yourself to be self-sufficient. It hadn’t always been this way. Several times in the past, there had been instances when you’d had to ask for people’s help- be it your peers, friends or your then-partners. And more times than not, these people, after helping you, made you feel like you owe them something. Their help started to feel like an obligation. You hated the feeling. You still do.
As you grew both mentally and emotionally, you stopped asking people for help. It wasn’t immediate. It took you time to get rid of. You wouldn’t care how difficult a task would be, you never asked for assistance or help. It was almost as if you had a point to prove. You didn’t know who you were proving it to, but you were.
This wasn’t a habit you were particularly proud of. You hated that you couldn’t trust someone enough to ask for help or accept the offered help. You hated that you were scared of people imposing an obligation on you. You hated it. And yet you did nothing about it.
That was until you met Vernon. You met him at a party. Your friend introduced him to you as her coworker. As you chatted, you discovered you had similar taste in music. And so the conversation flowed. You later discovered that you didn’t have a ride back home since your roommate left early. And it was too late for you to find a taxi. Vernon was quick to offer a ride back home. That’s when your habit of declining anybody and everybody’s help kicked in. You politely refused making a lame excuse. An excuse that you needed to sober up and so you’d walk back home. He didn’t want to push you on that. After all you’d just met. You ended up exchanging numbers with Vernon that day.
It was early on in your relationship when Vernon started noticing this habit of yours. He was observant when it came to your mannerisms. You loved and hated that at the same time. There had been an instance where he offered to bring you some lunch at your workplace. You had been late that day and hadn’t gotten the time to make any food. You had once again denied his offer.
‘I love the ramen from the cafe downstairs. I’ll just have that today.’, you’d told him.
You ended up eating two protein bars for lunch since you had a meeting at lunch and didn’t find the time or energy to go and have actual food.
Another time, it was a task as minuscule as tying your shoelaces. He noticed they were untied before you did. And so like any boyfriend(not all of them but that’s not the point) would, Vernon proceeded to bend down to tie them. That’s when his hands were stopped mid-air by your hands.
‘Wait wait wait…I’ll tie them’, you were quick to say as you beant down to tie your laces.
To say that he was dejected was an understatement. Man, he just wanted to tie his girlfriend’s shoelaces! Was that too much to ask for? As an ‘acts-of-service’ man that he was, he often became sad when you did that. He had to have a conversation with you soon.
As you reached home, he had been looking for an opportunity to start the conversation. He could see the opportunity from a hindsight when you complained about how sore your shoulders felt. He knew what he had to do then. He casually offered to massage them to make you feel better. And as he had expected, you refused. Frustration bubbled in him. But he managed to remain calm.
‘You never let me help you, lovie.’
He watched as your eyes widened for a second. Then, you were normal again.
‘That’s not true. They’re not that sore anyway. Maybe I just need some sleep and I’ll be fine.’
‘I’m not just talking about your shoulders. It’s just in general that you never accept any help from me or from anyone.’
Now you were the one getting frustrated. He could see it in the way you sighed. But he wasn’t going to leave the topic right now.
‘When have I ever refused any help from you?’, you said with a raised pitch to your voice. That was another indication that you’d lose your temper soon.
‘When have you not?’, he continued. He knew it was a tricky shot but he hit it anyway.
What he didn’t expect was the tears in your eyes following your prolonged silence. How could he forget? The raised pitch of your voice also meant you could cry soon. He was quickly on your side comforting you as you sobbed a little.
‘I don’t do it because I don’t want your help or because I think you can’t do a task.’, you spoke through your tears. ‘I just don’t want to be a burden on you. I have always done that to everyone around me. And…people, sometimes even my own friends made me feel like I owe them something even if they were the ones who offered to help me. It’s not the help that makes me anxious but the feeling after.’
You looked at him through your damp eyelashes. He was speechless, to say the least. When he decided to confront you about this, he hadn’t expected the reason to be that. Hell, he had even expected you to change the topic or make a poor excuse. His first instinct then was to engulf you in his arms till your sobs turned to sniffles.
‘You’re not a burden on me, lovie. You know I like helping you with chores, right? It makes me happy when I’m able to help you, be it making you food, tying your shoelaces or ordering your skincare for you. I feel zero burden doing that. Trust me, lovie.’, you listened to him as he poured his heart out, not looking at him.
You nodded then, not saying anything else.
‘What am I supposed to understand from that, hm?’
‘I’ll let you do some of the work from now.’, you said so softly that he would’ve missed it if he didn’t have all his attention on you.
‘You don’t need to ask for help. It’s good that you can do your work yourself. But if you ever need some, let me know, okay?’
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pamicakery · 7 hours
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˚₊‧꒰ა How to accept your desires as true + you must trust your Divine nature ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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Accept : consent to receive or undertake (something offered).
To accept your desire as true, you have to first, eliminate what contradict your desire, and mostly don't contradict yourself in the 4d. Don't contradict your divine self.
When you visualise yourself in the 4d, is your divine self giving it to you.
Ex : I visualize myself working at Disneyland. That means that my divine self gave me a job there. I accept this job because this is my desire. And now it's true because I am being a person who have this job because I can see myself,hear myself, touch and smell all around me in my 4d.
I can't deny it, I have it right know. This is the truth.
Everytime I would contradict myself, I'll go to my Divine realm, because I can have everything there. And no one and no body can contradict me, firstly because the 3D world/People doesn't have access to the Divine realm (You are the only being in this universe who have consciousness in your reality, you are aware of every reality, you can change the past (revision), go to the future (Living in the end), if you have Divine consciousness, you are Divine/God... But let's say Divine it's Prettierr) and second because you can actually have everything in your imagination. It's your divine power.🌸
I am working on myself those days, listening to Edward Art times to times. It's time to practice now, because the post I make are based on what I've learn and what I have figured out on tumblr and outside tumblr.🩷🩷
And.. I think that I know the law, I know what to do, the step to make. I just had any trust in myself because my parents made me believing so.
When I was a kid, I always wanted to.. Discover that we are magical beings with magical power. But I've been discouraged because I've been looking too much in the 3d and listened to people who didn't saw the good in me, who were mocking me and belittle me for fun .🩷
I've manifested crushes when I was a teen, and I knew how to manifest. But when I discovered the law, I assumed that I was new to it and what I was used to do was wrong.
I put trust outside of myself. By listening to doctors and mean people (including my parents) I let myself have an appearance reflecting my inside self hatred, a sick skin, bad hair, unemployed).
That's why in my opinion, religion and science exists. To make us believe in something outside ourselves. Because the world fear our power. What I want to say is that with our mind we can do anything or be anything for our own good. We can feel good in our life, we are not delulu because we want to be happy, loved and safe .My only desire is to be surrounded by happy people, travel, feel myself pretty. It's my right and it's your right by wanting better for yourself. I don't want to nourish the assumption of other that I am this or this. It's time to break free and only your mind can set you free 🩷🩷
Media and outside people doesn't want us to figure out how powerful we can be that's why media are bathed with bad news, war, catastrophes etc.. Because they know how only naïve but also powerful we can be if we assume something true . We are eternal being and we must take our power back. You must accept your Divine realm because it's the real world, the eternal world, a world ruled with love and well being. It's the true world. 🩷
You are not flesh and bones. You are pure creative energy.
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xorafe · 1 month
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cam girl (part seven)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
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summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
Rafe’s hands are immediately all over you.
The front door shuts behind him and his teeth are nipping at the crook of your neck, his fingers digging into your waist, making you melt beneath him.
He pushes you backwards, your butt hitting the hard edge of your kitchen table. You breathe in the smell of his sharp cologne, having it committed to memory by now.
He couldn’t get through a minute of you on camera before rushing over to your apartment. The feeling of the power you have over him is like a drug.
He’s hard against you and you feel like even though the bra and panties you’re wearing for him are the skimpiest things you own, there’s too much fabric on your body. You want to be entirely naked for him.
The legs of the table rock and you hear one of your textbooks fall and slam onto the tile floor as you both clamber towards your bedroom.
You’re on your back in your bed when you watch Rafe feverishly pull off his shirt and jeans, acting like he can’t move fast enough, stripping down to his briefs.
You drink him in, how big and commanding he is, how taut the muscles that line his body are. This man could have any girl. But he’s in your bedroom.
Rafe’s rough when he kneels down and puts his hands below your knees, pushing your thighs against your chest. You’re curled into the tight position, short of breath.
“Don’t pull that shit with me again,” he mutters the first words between you since he arrived, his mouth inches away from yours. “Don’t…” Rafe shakes his head like he can’t find the words. “It wasn’t funny.”
You look up at him with wide eyes, quickly grasping that he’s referring to your spat last night. You nod, your mind replaying the way he stormed out.
Don’t tease him when he shows any sort of concern for you. Got it.
You know better than to think that it actually messed with him to think something happened to you. He was pissed because you didn’t obey him. You’re his property. He doesn’t actually care.
“Okay,” you whisper.
“Fuck,” he chuckles, looking down at you. “You already made a mess.”
You follow his gaze, seeing the moisture on your pink underwear.
You’re grateful the moment of confrontation was so short, brushed away so quickly. You don’t want to fight with him. You just want to fuck.
“All I had to do was think about you,” you tell him.
“You get that wet for me only, huh, baby?” he taunts. “I don’t think you should wear panties anymore if this is what I do to you.”
“Whatever you want,” you say, completely submissive to him.
“That’s fucking right, whatever I want,” he states. “Is this pussy gonna squirt for me tonight?”
“Yes.” You promise yourself you’ll do whatever the hell it takes to do it for him. His eyes are on you as his thumb rubs over your clit.
“Every time you get close to cumming, tell me,” he orders you. He shifts to put his hand on your face to force you to look at him, squeezing your cheeks like he did last night. “I want you to be so desperate to cum that once I let you, it fucking spills out of you, understand?”
You can only nod, at a loss for words. Every time you think he can’t get any hotter, he proves you wrong.
“Understand?” Rafe repeats sternly.
“Yes.”
“Where’s that toy I bought you?”
You wordlessly point to the nightstand’s drawer. He moves off the bed, digging into his jeans to pull out his phone first. He remotely turns on the vibrator, tossing his phone on your bed.
When he presses the toy against your clit over your panties, you shudder.
“Fuck,” you groan, your voice weak. He hovers over you, watching you writhe.
“I put it on the highest setting, princess,” he drawls. “Feels good, huh? You like when I buy you shit like this? You like whoring yourself out for me?”
“I fucking love it,” you say. “I’m your slut.”
“Say that again,” Rafe demands.
“I’m your slut.”
“Yeah, you fucking are.” The sound of his deep voice mixed with the buzzing toy is perfection.
The vibrations make your hips involuntarily buck and you groan. Your body tenses.
“I’m close,” you whisper. He moves the toy off of you.
“Already?” Rafe’s tone is mocking. He snaps your bra strap against your collarbone. “Take this shit off.”
You obey and he slips his fingers beneath the thin band of your panties and drags them off, leaving you entirely naked.
He pushes the backs of your thighs down hard again, putting you into the same curled position he started with. Your knees are almost next to your ears and the way he’s contorting you is blissfully painful.
He taps his dick over your pussy before he shoves into you with a long exhale, filling you entirely, sliding in so damn easily.
“Whatever happened to liking it slow?” you provoke him, thinking back to your first cam session.
“I’m…” Rafe’s smile is lazy. “I’m fucking addicted to you now. I’m not taking anything slow anymore.”
His words make you feel high. His gaze is focused on where his body is meeting yours, and you take in the sight of him sitting up on his knees and thrusting into you, his stomach muscles flexing.
Rafe’s lips are parted and turned up into a smile while he watches your pussy take him in.
“Goddamn,” he says. He pulls out of you and reaches for his phone. You realize he wants to record you as he points the camera at your pussy, then buries his cock into you again.
You watch as he uses his thumb to push up past your clit, stretching you so his camera captures every part of you.
Rafe pulls out, then pushes in again, watching his screen with his bottom lip trapped under his teeth. He’s so fucking dazed right now, savoring the way you take all of him, entertained by how he can use you.
He withdraws, leaving your cunt empty again. With his phone lowered to film you closer, he curls two fingers into you, making you moan as he twists his wrist to feel you at a different angle, knuckles nudging against your walls.
Rafe is playing with you like the toy that you are and you can’t help but feel satisfied that he’s so fucking enamored by you. You think back to when he called you his dream girl and you know he wasn’t just saying that. He looks like he’s under a spell.
After he pulls his fingers out, he stretches your lips apart with his forefinger and middle finger, displaying you like you’re a work of art.
Blue eyes trail up to meet yours and Rafe looks nothing short of captivated. It almost makes you shy that he’s gazing at you like this. You realize how odd it is to feel that way after everything you’ve done together.
“What?” you laugh. He only tosses his phone back onto your bed before pushing down on your hamstrings, positioning himself to enter you again.
“Fuck,” you shudder at his force. “That’s so fucking good.”
“I can use this pussy whenever I want, huh?” he groans, his tip hitting your cervix.
“Mhm, baby,” you promise, your breath growing faster.
Rafe leans over you, putting even more weight on your legs, forcing them tighter against your chest. It makes it even harder to breathe, but you love when he’s rough.
His balls hit your ass with every solid pummel, your mattress springs digging into your back from the way he has you folded over yourself.
The familiar sensation builds up in you and you groan, wishing you didn’t have to stop him.
“Cl-close,” you whisper, putting a hand on his chest. Rafe pulls out quickly, rubbing his slick cock.
He aggressively pulls your legs down and shifts to hover over you, his knees framing your face.
To your sick delight, he reaches for his phone again. You look up at the camera pointed at you through low lids, your lips parting when he puts the tip of his dick against your chin.
“What’d you call yourself, baby?” Rafe asks behind the phone, recording you. You truly feel like his personal pornstar now, the sinfulness of what he’s doing turning you on even more.
“Your slut,” you groan. “I’m your whore.”
“Fuck,” he chuckles, pushing his dick into your mouth. You keep your eyes trained on the camera as you take him in.
His hand rests on your cheek, the ring on his forefinger cold against your skin. His thumb strokes over your temple as he pushes his dick into your mouth, only going halfway.
“You live for this cock, hmm?” he asks.
“Mhm,” you say, muffled.
“I fucking own you.” He taps his fingers against your cheek, giving you three gentle slaps, making you shut your eyes and smile with your mouth full.
“Stick out your tongue,” he orders you. When you do, he chuckles darkly, rubbing the curve of his cock up and down on it.
Rafe tosses his phone to the side again, putting his hands on the bed to bend over you and guide his entire length inside your mouth.
“Stay still,” he orders you. You feel him push slowly until he hits the back of your throat. He pulls out agonizingly slow, then pushes himself in and out over and over.
“Never get tired of fucking this mouth,” he groans over the sounds of you gagging on him.
You moan, feeling your feet plant onto the bed as you buck your hips up, wishing he would just fuck you again.
When Rafe shifts back down, he grabs you by the roots of your hair.
“You’re gonna ride my face,” he tells you. You nod desperately, letting him pull you into a seated position.
Rafe flips onto his back and you straddle his face, groaning at the feeling of his hot breath against your pussy.
You’re holding yourself up on your knees, hovering over him, and he digs his fingers into your asscheeks.
You look down, writhing over him, rubbing yourself on his open mouth. Your movements turn into harder grinds, and you put your fingers through his soft hair, keeping his head steady.
His eyes roll back and the arousing image makes you smile. Maybe he likes being used a little bit, too.
You feel his hand curl around your butt, his finger pressing against your asshole. The stimulation makes you tremble.
Rafe captures your clit, sucking hard. You feel the same tightening again.
“Almost…” you breathily warn and he pulls you off of him.
With his big hands on your waist, he pushes you onto your back again. His hands find your tits and he roughly squeezes as he sits over you.
It’s all so transfixing, the way he’s rapidly changing through positions, so sure of what he wants to do to you next.
“I know you wanna cum so bad, princess,” he coaxes. “You’re doing such a good job.”
“Thank you, baby,” you whimper, arching your back as he fondles your tits. He bends low, putting his mouth on your chest.
You’re overwhelmed as he bites and sucks and pinches and plays, and you tightly shut your eyes, feeling the throb between your legs.
Rafe gives you enough time to come down from the near orgasm, then shifts to sit up against your bed frame.
He beckons you to him with his hands, his cock swollen and leaking.
“Bounce on it,” he tells you.
You mount him, sinking down onto his hard length. Rafe grabs the toy, pushing the vibrator against your clit. You tremble and start to bob up and down, pussy wrapped around his firm cock, the feeling absolutely fucking electrifying.
Your hands are on his firm shoulders, your eyes locked on his, your clit stimulated and your cunt full.
You keep bouncing and riding and writhing and moaning. You’re sweating and you notice Rafe is too, both of you breathless from fucking so hard.
“I’m…” You can’t even tell him you’re close because the rising orgasm silences you, taking you prisoner.
Your veins are hot, every nerve tightening, and the greatest orgasm you’ve ever had begins to tear through you. It’s hard to keep your eyes open, but you force yourself to look down, feeling yourself clench and convulse.
You can’t believe your body’s doing it, but your cum squirts out of you, splashing in different directions on his stomach.
“Oh, fuuuuck,” Rafe groans, tossing the toy to the side and rubbing your clit feverishly to make you spatter in every direction. “Oh, my fucking God. That’s my good fucking girl.”
Your pussy is almost numb from pleasure, as if your body can’t handle feeling this damn good. Rafe takes over the pace, hands clutching your hips, penetrating your wet cunt hard until your body releases everything it has.
Your sigh is strained, your limbs loose. You lose all your strength, limp on top of him, but he continues to fuck you, his cock reaching deep inside you.
“Keep bouncing for me,” Rafe tells you. “Keep fucking bouncing.”
You obey, thighs burning, and he tilts his head back, Adam’s apple prominent, as he reaches his peak. He finishes inside you through hot, fast throbs.
You’re flushed and breathless, tilting forward. You’re quivering with your cheek against his temple, his damp skin on yours.
His hands move up and down your back in slow strokes, making your tits press over his chest.
“You did so good, baby,” Rafe says, panting.
“Yeah?” you whisper, gently convulsing. He chuckles at the way you’re trembling on top of him, his cock still stuffed inside you.
“You like when my cock stays inside, hmm?” he rasps. “You deserve it. Sit like this as long as you want.”
You tighten your arms around him, sitting on him and panting, your nose in his hair. You smell his shampoo, listen to his breaths.
Nobody has ever done this to you. Pushed you past every limit. Excited you this much. You had no idea this was who Rafe was.
He continues to hold you silently. You know you can’t like him, and you won’t, but you allow yourself to pretend you’re more than just fuck buddies in this small, sweet moment.
Then you pull yourself back into reality and know you should just appreciate it for what it is.
You find the strength to raise yourself off of Rafe, his dick slipping out of you, your mixed cum dribbling out onto him, your bed soaked.
“Fuck,” you whisper with a laugh. You’ll have to change your sheets tonight.
It reminds you that you’re working at his house tomorrow. How will you manage to see him and not want to rip his clothes off?
You spot Rafe’s phone on your pillow and pick it up, meeting his eyes when you hand it to him.
“You still want private shows now that you have those videos?” you ask playfully, your voice weak.
“Yeah,” he nods, a smirk on his lips. “I’ll always want them.”
“I’ll make you go broke.”
Rafe looks up in mock annoyance, but his laugh gives him away.
“Worth it,” he finally says. You giggle and swing your leg off of him, your pulse slowly going back to its regular pace.
Rafe gets out of bed and starts to put his clothes on as you grab a towel and get ready for a much-needed shower. You’re glad he’s not staying the night. Being cuddled to sleep by him even just one more time would confuse you all over again.
You follow him out of your room, bending down to pick up the heavy, torn up textbook the two of you had knocked over.
Rafe notices and looks at the cover.
“Jesus, what’d you do to that book?” he asks.
“Shut up, it was like this when I bought it, okay?” you say. “Used copy.”
“For school?” You realize just how little he knows about you.
“Yeah. I’m actually kind of smart,” you joke.
“I could tell,” he says. You figure he’s being sarcastic and trail him as he opens the front door, shutting it behind him and letting out a big breath.
You make it to the Cameron estate right on time the next morning. Your stomach is in a knot as you clean, wondering when Rafe will walk by and tempt you to risk your job by fucking him during work hours.
After cleaning the kitchen floors and surfaces, you open the cupboard below the sink to take out the trash. You tie the top of the bag, but when you try to pull it out, it’s too heavy.
You grunt as you try again but you’re unsuccessful. And honestly, you blame Rafe for making you so weak. Your body is still recovering from last night.
You spot one of the gardeners through the kitchen window and decide to ask for his help instead of straining yourself any further.
You can’t remember his name, but you open the nearby patio door leading out to the backyard and wave him over.
“Hey, sorry, could you help me with the garbage? It’s too heavy,” you ask the man. He’s a little taller than you, maybe a few years older, and is wearing a smile.
“Sure,” he says.
You both step into the kitchen and you point him to the cupboard. He takes off his gloves and yanks at the knot you tied. Finally, the bag wiggles free.
“I saved the day,” he jokes. “Where does this go?”
“Out there,” you say, leading him through the kitchen and right outside the door to the bin. “Thanks.”
“Better wash my hands,” he replies. You both walk back into the kitchen and you replace the garbage bag while he turns on the faucet.
You wait for him to move out of the way so you can close the cupboard, wash your hands, and tend to your next task.
“They treating you nice in here?” he asks quietly, looking over at you.
You try not to smile as blood rushes to your cheeks. If only the other staff around here knew what you were up to with Rafe.
“Yup,” you simply answer.
“Can’t lie, I’m glad I’m outside all day,” he says. “Nobody bothers me.”
You politely laugh, silently wishing he’d hurry up and let you go on with your day.
“I bet,” is all you can say.
He turns off the faucet and smiles at you.
“Back to it, huh?” he says, patting your shoulder. “Let me know if I can help with anything else.”
Your eyebrows draw together, feeling awkward that someone who’s not Rafe is touching you, even though it’s a friendly, innocent gesture.
He steps away and you hear the door to the backyard close behind you as you start to wash your hands.
When you shift to find a tea towel, you see Rafe standing on the other side of the big room.
You’re excited to see him, until you take in how he’s looking at you.
Even from here, you can see the anger in his gaze. You stare at him wordlessly, wondering what he’s thinking.
“What the fuck was that?” he snaps.
You quickly pace towards him so he doesn’t speak so loudly. You can’t risk anyone hearing. You could lose this job if anyone found out about you two.
Rafe crosses his arms, biceps jutting out his t-shirt, eyes lowering when you reach him.
“What?” you say, tone hushed.
“What. The fuck. Was that,” he repeats sternly. Is he seriously angry about your exchange with the gardener?
“Rafe, someone could hear you,” you say quietly.
He steps back, head titling, a look of disgust on his face.
“You think I give a shit?”
You brush past him to head somewhere private, knowing he’ll follow you.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he orders, his deep voice thundering through you.
You rush, heart pounding from anticipation, and hear him stalking behind you. When you reach the dark and empty laundry room, you turn to face Rafe and he’s suddenly pushing you back against a closet door.
He’s towering over you, fingers wrapped around your wrist, his jaw clenched.
“Why’d he touch you?” he mutters. “Why the fuck did you let him touch you? Why were you laughing with him? Are you fucking him, too?”
He’s pissed. Jealous as hell. And it sends a ripple of arousal through you. He’s seething over someone simply tapping your shoulder.
“I don’t even know his name,” you say with amusement, your heart skipping a beat. He’s unhinged. You’re with him every night. When would you even have time to hook up with someone else?
You feel yourself get wetter as Rafe pushes up against you.
“Do you need to be reminded of who you belong to?” he threatens.
And even though you definitely don’t need to be, you nod, desperate for him to have his way with you.
{ read part eight here }
author’s note - want to say a quick thank you to everyone who’s reading the series 🥰 i see and appreciate every single reply and comment and message! the positive feedback keeps me inspired to continue to write. love you all
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hyuckiefluff · 4 months
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𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 | na jaemin
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pairing: roommate!na jaemin x fem reader
genre: smut
wc: 1.6k
summary: jaemin notices how innocent you are and he can’t help but take advantage of this.
content warning: loss of virginity, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, missionary, reader is very inexperienced, jaemin is pretty manipulative, usage of pet names (good girl, princess, angel)
a/n : this is not what i was planning to post next but oh well it’s here now! hope u enjoy it! feedback is greatly appreciated as always and happy new year! my new year’s resolution as a writer is to stop trying to write a million stories at once and then not posting any of them lol. also just realized this is my second time writing roommate jaemin hehe idk i’m kinda obsessed with him and this trope
pss: would you guys like me to post drabbles? i’ve been thinking about it but can’t decide, lemme know in the comments or my req/ask box :))
masterlist
Jaemin was so glad that you were clueless.
When he first moved in as your roommate, he immediately noticed you were too trusting… Letting a stranger like him move in with you without asking many questions. But the rent was good and the prospect of living with someone as pretty as yourself kept him from saying anything about it.
As he discovered the extent of your innocence, Jaemin found himself unable to resist taking advantage of it. He wanted to know just how much he could get away with.
So, on a particularly chilly winter night, Jaemin seized the opportunity and knocked on your door while you were cozily tucked into bed.
"Can I sleep here, princess? I think the heating broke down in my room," Jaemin asked, his head peeking through the door.
Even he knew that was a weak excuse. The apartment had centralized heating, so if it worked in your room, it definitely worked in his. But surprisingly, you fell for it.
"Oh, of course, Jaem," you replied with the softest tone, the nickname you’d given him already making him semi-hard.
He joined you in bed, keeping some initial distance. However, as soon as he noticed you in the skimpiest pajama dress, he felt himself growing harder in his sweatpants. You lay facing him, a sleepy smile on your face, your eyes glowing in the night light, completely oblivious to the thoughts racing through his mind and down to his dick.
"Are you okay, Jaem?" you asked softly, noticing him wince and shift a bit.
"Uhm... yeah, just... uncomfortable," he said absentmindedly.
"Are you uncomfortable with me?" you asked, your big eyes staring up at him.
"Oh no no, princess, it's not you. It's just..." he sighed, "Sometimes it hurts down there, and it will keep hurting until I do something about it."
It's amusing how he tried so hard to explain it, treating you like a kid despite you being his age, and ironically, the reason he was like this in the first place.
"Why does it hurt?" you asked, genuine worry in your eyes.
Contemplating whether to use your innocence to his advantage, he decided to take the risk. "Well, you see... whenever I'm with you, it kind of just hurts. It gets so hard, and I can’t handle it," he said, hoping you bought his act.
"Because of me?" you brought your hands to your cheeks, the action pushing your boobs together and making them practically spill out of your pjs "And c-can I make it better somehow? I feel so bad..."
Oh, clueless pretty thing.
"Of course, you can make it better, princess... you're the only one who can," he said, getting closer to your smaller frame. You didn't move away and simply let him grab your hand.
He placed it on top of his erection, "See how swollen it is? It hurts," you pouted, feeling terrible that this was your fault. "Will you help me fix it then?" You nodded at once, and Jaemin smiled. "Good girl."
He took off his shirt, and you were momentarily stunned by how toned his chest and abs were. You'd seen him shirtless before but never from this close.
"Princess, you're drooling," he teased, softly grabbing your chin so you would look at him.
"I'm not," you whined but still attempted to clean the imaginary drool off your face.
"So cute," he laughed, "will you take this off for me?" He pointed to his sweatpants.
"M-me? Uhm... okay," you said, and with shaky hands, you slid his pants down his legs. It was a bit hard pushing them past his bulge, and he noticed how this made you blush.
"Thank you, pretty girl," he pulled you back up, and now you were straddling him, only the thin fabric of your panties and his boxers separating your cores.
He experimentally rutted against you to gauge your reaction, and it was entirely worth it. Your face contorting, the way you gasped and made an "O" with your pretty plump lips. He never saw anything better.
"You trust me, right, princess?" he asked, his eyes heavy on you.
"Y-yes... I trust you."
He smiled and switched your positions, now hovering over your body. He caressed your cheeks, and then his hand went down until he reached the border of your PJ dress. He pulled it up until it was pooling right below your chest.
"So pretty," he said, his lips ghosting over your stomach.
"Jaem, that tickles!" you laughed, pushing his head.
"Princess, before you can help me, I gotta prepare you, okay?" He suddenly got serious again, his eyes with that dark glow you saw earlier. You nodded, your heart picking up pace when he suddenly hovered over your clothed core.
Then, locking eyes with you, he pulled your panties to the side. The abrupt shift from the cool air hitting you to his warm breath so close to your most private part gave you goosebumps all over.
Out of the blue, he licked a streak along your core. You gasped, nudging his head away. No one had ever touched you there, let alone licked you.
"You gotta relax, baby," he said, his voice so growly it almost had a purr to it.
Though he didn’t really give you a chance to relax. He latched his mouth directly to your cunt, sucking viciously, and the sensation was almost overwhelming.
"Oh my g-.. Jaemin," you moaned, the intensity taking you by surprise.
After a few minutes of relentlessly eating you out, he pulled away, his nose, mouth, and chin glossy with your juices. The knot in your stomach was so tight it could explode. But just when you thought he was finished, he inserted a finger. He explored your insides with vigor until he found that sweet spot, causing you to release a string of curses and curl your toes.
That was your first orgasm.
"You're ready for me now, beautiful," he said, planting one last kiss on your inner thigh before crawling until he was directly on top of you.
“… m’ so tired, Jaem..." you mewled.
"I know, I know... just hang on a bit more. You wanna help me, right?" he asked, gently moving some stray hairs away from your forehead.
You nodded, and he rewarded you with a chaste kiss on your lips. With a playful grin, he pulled down his boxers and even though you were spent, curiosity got the best of you so you peeked down. He was so big and thick; it startled you for a moment.
"Now, angel... tell me if you feel uncomfortable."
Jaemin was trying so hard to be gentle, but seeing you like that, all pliant and open for him, made him want nothing more than to fuck you hard into next week.
He pulled down your panties, amused by the way they stuck to you from how wet you were. Tossing them aside, he wasted no time positioning himself at your entrance. The tip was barely in, and you already felt overwhelmed. "I don't think it'll fit..." you said, but he seemed not to have heard, leaning in to kiss all over your neck and collarbone.
This distraction allowed him to go in more, and you held onto his shoulders for support.
"You're doing so good for me," Jaemin whispered against your skin.
When he bottomed out, he already felt like he would cum fast from how tightly you were squeezing him. He kept whispering for you to relax, and only when you did did he start moving at a somewhat slow pace.
"You feel so fucking good," he whimpered, his thrusts picking up pace and turning you into a moaning, writhing mess.
"J-j-Jaem..." you were unable to form a coherent sentence with how hard he was fucking you now.
"Fuck… I… should've… done… this… sooner," he grunted, his eyes locked on the mesmerizing bounce of your boobs.
"I'm… I feel so…" you whimpered, tears forming in your eyes as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
He could tell you were getting there from how your walls were pulsating around him. So, he grabbed your legs, hoisting them up on his shoulders for some deeper access. This new angle had him hitting just the right spot, and in no time, you turned into a moaning, sobbing mess. He eased into a slower rhythm, helping you ride out your second orgasm.
"That's it, good girl," he moaned looking at the scene between your bodies as your release dripped down from your pretty cunt.
After you came, he didn't pull out. He was the one wanting to get a little more out of this, after all.
So, once your breathing had calmed down a bit, he resumed thrusting into you, each one driving deeper than the last.
"Jae… I- I can't…" you whined, too sensitive down there.
"You said… you would help me, princess..."
And so he kept fucking you hard. It didn't take long for your third orgasm to creep up, your walls squeezing the life out of him again. Relentless, he kept going even after you'd cummed again, pushing until he felt his own orgasm approach. That’s when he pulled out right away, his release spilling generously over your lower stomach.
He collapsed next to you, both of you panting.
"Does it still hurt, Jaem?" you asked innocently, looking at him.
He smiled softly at you and gently caressed your cheek.
"No, princess. You made me all better."
Jaemin loved how clueless you were.
btw i’m not ignoring requests it’s just taking me forever to finish the other stories i’m writing so requests are on hold for a little bit, you can still send but it’ll take me a minute to get to them :(
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shu-porang-porang · 2 months
Text
Slow Moments
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He's yours and it's raining, life couldn't get better!
Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader
Theme: fluff, explicit
Warnings: cock warming, not proofread, 18+ NO MINORS
Word count: 0.7 k
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You had plans to dine out tonight, but the soft drizzle of rain turned to a somewhat thunderstorm. You open the window and take a deep breath, but you have to close it soon since the cold air makes you shiver. You stand there, looking at the blurred city lights through the glass, listening to the pitter patter of the rain. The dim lights of the evening invite you to stay in the coziness of your apartment
You feel his arms wrap around you from behind, he kisses the side of your chin.
“All I wanna do right now is cuddle up with you.” He says as if he read your mind.
“Me too.”
“Really? So can we have our dinner date tomorrow night?”
“Sure baby. Just let me make some coffee, then we can cuddle all you want.” You turn on your hill to give him a quick peck and then disappear to the kitchen.
Minutes later when you’re back with two mugs of hot coffee with milk and cinnamon, you find him sitting on the bench beneath the window, peering out the view. You place the mugs on the table next to the bench and sit in his lap. His hands are quick to circle your torso as he rests his chin on your shoulder, the soft tuft of his hair tickling your neck.
At moments like this, it feels as if the time has stopped, as if the whole world stayed still, and you two are the only people in it, the only people who matter. You don’t know how long you sit there, utterly silent, only the rain and the occasional sipping of coffee can be heard.
He’s done with staring at the rain, he can only control himself so much when your bodies are flushed against each other like this. He starts with lazy kisses on the side of your neck, he takes his time with each kiss, closing his lips on a patch of skin, giving it a lick, sucking a little, and finally letting go of it with a wet smooch. You roll your head back to give him more access, your hand reaches behind his head to play with his locks. He does the same to your shoulder and when your sweater stops him from further marking your skin, he lifts his head up to kiss your chin, working his way along your jawline, your cheek and finally his lips are brushing against yours. You adjust yourself in his lap so you can properly kiss him. His warm wet tongue swirls around yours, probing every corner with so much excitement as if discovering unmarked lands. You pick up the faint taste of cinnamon on his tongue. His hand slides under your sweater, rubbing your side.
He needs more, you can sense it, but he knows how much you love the rain, so he’s holding back until it’s over, then he’ll take you to bed and make love to you properly. For now, he can settle for a make out session by the window. You, being the sweet caring girlfriend you are, decide to give him some relief. So, you break the kiss to say: “I wanna try something.”
His big boba eyes meet yours with curiosity, waiting for more explanation. Your hand fumbles with his waistband and drags his sweatpants and boxers down to free his member. It’s not entirely soft but you need it fully erect for your little plan. You stroke it up and down while kissing his neck, his head rolls back and little whimpers start to fall off his lips. When he’s hard enough, you pull your sweats and panties down and align it with your soaking wet entrance. His eyes screw shut as you slowly sink down on it.
“Let’s stay like this while it’s still raining. I’ll keep you nice and warm for me.” You say as you rest your body against his, your head on his chest where he’s heart is beating with excitement. He holds you tight in his arms, peppering kisses atop your head, whispering sweet nothings in between.
Feeling full and wrapped in his warmth, somewhere between listening to the melody of raindrops tapping against the window and his heartbeat pounding against his ribcage, you fall into a slumber. He lets you have this little rest as he’s gonna make sure you won’t get much of it later that night.
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angelltheninth · 7 months
Note
I wonder how neuvillette acts in heat because he is s dragon
Well let me see if I can figure it out for you.
Pairing: Neuvillette x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, kissing, mating mark, biting, tail use, growling, mating press, begging, pregnancy mention, semi-public sex
A/N: I feel like a werewolf during a full moon around this man, I just... want him you know? Feraly.
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It's important to remember that even with hormones coursing through his system he will still try to perform his duties first and have pleasure second
Trying to get him to take a week off won't work
You will be getting fucked every night though, all the way till morning so your own sleeping schedule will be a little messed up when Neuvillette is in heat
During his heat he does get hard at random times because even at work he is thinking about how good your warm pussy would feel around his dick
When it gets to be too much he will ask you to take the edge of him
You have to swallow, he can't make a mess of his desk
It pains him greatly to see his cum go down your throat instead of your womb where it would get you pregnant with his babies but this isn't something you spoke of much so he wouldn't pressure you into it despite what his dragon instincts are telling him
Trust him if he could get away with more then a quick blowjob, if he could get away with fucking you in the courtroom he could
As it stands he can only do it in the bedroom or if he's feeling really pent up in a empty room that he found
For most of the day he will try to keep his desire for you at bay even if you're standing right next to him, honestly it's almost better for you both when he has all this pent up energy to spare
There's a lot of rain that day though, it's the only way he can make his frustrations known
One of the sure ways for him to lose control is if he catches a glimpse of the mating mark on your neck, it's a weak spot of yours that he created, and one that is also his weak spot because the moment his teeth find it he's coming, doesn't matter where, in you, on you, your hand, your back, your pussy, you will be covered in lots of cum
Not above begging you to relieve him, sure he could overpower you easily should he choose to but again, it feels better when he's pent up and you love teasing his cock when it's being so sensitive and responsive to your touch
Dragging your palm over the throbbing length, up and down, spreading all that cum from tip to his balls and watching him clenching his teeth and fists against the sheets until you hear them tear is impowering for you, having control over someone so powerful
But it's also exciting when he takes control back, his tail firm and soft and hard and gentle as it manhandles you around and puts you into any position Neuvillette wants you in
He loves the mating press of course because it's a good way to get in so deep and make sure most of his cum doesn't spill, also really easy to eat you out afterwards, your pussy is practically served up to him
Growling is a thing he discovered you like a bit too much, every time he does it your pussy milks him some more, or if he does it before he's inside he can smell you getting more horny, which makes him less able to resist breeding you when it's clear to him how much you want just that
Spreading your legs and your pussy with your fingers, showing him the emptiness you want him to fuck and fill with his cock until you can't help yourself, you finally beg him for the one thing he's been wanting to hear, you beg him to breed you
How can he ever say no when you're being so cute and sexy and your pussy so inviting, no one could resist, not even him and he won't even try
Of course he will give you what you want, what you both want
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willowbelle · 4 months
Note
i would kill for you to write some Law smut where he has a breeding kink please ^~^
as someone who literally has a breeding kink, say no more, anon. i’m on it! \(>ᴗ•)/♡︎
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Hidden Desires
❤︎ trafalgar law x fem reader ❤︎
𖤐₊˚.༄ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) 𖤐₊˚.༄
cw: established relationship, oral (f receiving), teasing, unprotected sex (don’t), breeding kink (duh), missionary, mating press, rough sex, slight stomach bulge, creampie (duh), petnames, fluff at end
summary: established relationship, reader is a member of heart pirates, Law has a secret kink that reader wants to figure out, Law lets his desires out, super nsfw with some fluff at end!
word count: ~2600
note: only loosely proofread so bear with me, my loves.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
Hidden Desires
Your boyfriend was a cynical man.
He liked things to be thorough and correct, nothing to be left to interpretation. He was a doctor, after all, a very practical one at that. His analytical precision was nothing to gawk at. For example, when it came to your sex life, he always insisted on rolling a condom over his impressive length before he railed you into the mattress.
But you were about to discover that there was something about Trafalgar Law that made him want to stray away from this methodical way of life.
He buried this desire deep inside himself, too frightened for what might happen if it were to see the light of day, if it were to make its way to your unsuspecting ears.
You knew there had to be something. Something about himself that he was hiding from you. Sometimes, when he fucked you, you saw some glimmers of this yearning slip from within him. On one occasion in particular, when he had you pressed against one of the icy walls of the Polar Tang, your legs wrapped around his waist shakily as he pounded into you, he let his aching speak for him,
“I want to fill you to the brim, y/n…”
The confession was quiet, so much so that you asked him to repeat himself, surely you had heard him incorrectly. Hips still snapping away against yours, he shook his head and groaned into your neck, refusing to elaborate.
This interaction had sprouted a seed in your mind, a tiny one, but one that you determined to nourish and sprout; what longing resided inside your boyfriend, your captain, that he insisted on keeping hidden from you?
Law was seated at his desk in his office, scribbling away in his notebook, his other hand holding open an anatomy textbook, dark gray eyes scanning back and forth between the two.
You laid on his bed, your body still, but your mind racing.
Silence had hung heavy in the room for over an hour now. The two of you had an agreement, if you wanted to keep him company while he worked, you needed to stay quiet. You knew Law was busy today, like every day, and you knew better than to disturb him.
You anxiously picked at your fingernails, trying desperately to catch up with your turbulent mind.
“What’s got your brain so preoccupied, y/n?” your boyfriend’s deep voice began, much to your surprise. He was speaking to you, of course, but his eyes remained glued to his notes. Law was an observant man, you weren’t surprised that he could still pick up on your mannerisms, even with his back to you.
“Thinking…” you admitted, knowing it wasn’t much of a confession.
“Clearly,” he toyed. You couldn’t see his face, but your brain filled in the missing piece. You knew he was smirking, as he always did when he bantered with you.
“What are you hiding from me, Law?” you began, moving off of the bed and bringing yourself to your feet, “I want to know what’s in there,” you spoke, motioning to his head with the point of your finger.
Your boyfriend finally brought his face up from his textbook to meet your curious eyes.
“What are you talking about, doll?” he chuckled, “You know me better than anyone.”
“I know I know you, Law,” you grinned at him, making your way towards him, placing your hand on his toned chest beneath his shirt. “But I want to know what you want to do to me. What you really want to do to me.”
To the outside perspective, Law’s face was cold and calculating, but to you, his partner, you could make out the slight blush that now dusted his cheeks, and the glimmer of arousal in his eyes.
“You really want to know, y/n?” he began, his voice now a seductive whisper.
Staring up at him, you gulped dryly. Even with no idea what to expect, you placed all of your trust in Law’s tattooed hands, and nodded your head.
With your assurance, Law began to speak again, bringing his fingers to the buttons of his shirt.
“Ive always wondered,” be began, starting to undo the buttons, “what it would be like,” working his way down his shirt, shrugging it off of his toned shoulders, exposing his tattooed chest and abdomen to you, “to fill you up.” Law gazes down at you, face painted with a knowing smirk.
You felt heat begin to grow in your core as you stared up at the shirtless man before you, your cheeks now glowing pink.
“L-Like how?” you stuttered meekly.
Law chuckles at you before sinking to his knees before you, placing his strong hands at the waistband of your skirt before pulling it down in one swift motion, leaving you in nothing but your slick-coated panties, causing you to blush even deeper, heat now boiling in your core.
“I want you to think about,” he begins, pausing to kiss along your thighs, “what it would be like,” he kisses more, making his way towards your slit beneath the fabric of your underwear, “to be stuffed full of my cum,” he begins to kiss your slit, causing you to gasp and reach down to grab ahold of his dark hair, “to be filled with my babies, y/n”
“L-Law…” his name is the only thing you can utter in response to his lewd confession.
He hooks his fingers beneath the band on your panties, pulling them down, too, to meet your skirt in a pile on the floor.
He spread your legs slightly to give himself access to your dripping pussy, rewarding it with a long stripe of his hot, wet tongue, causing you to throw your head back and cry out for him.
“A-Ah, L-Law-!”
His tongue continues its ravenous assault on your clit and opening, causing your legs to shake and buckle beneath you, but your strong boyfriend holds you up, not stopping for even a moment, his tongue still working wonders into your cunt. He lapped and swirled his tongue at your swollen clit, earning more gasps and cries from within your throat. Your vision began to grow hazy as Law pulls you further and further towards your impending orgasm.
“L-Law, i’m c-coming!” you cried, fingers still locked in his dark hair.
He only groans into your pussy in response, still feverishly working at your clit.
In an instant, the knot growing within your stomach snaps, and you’re gushing fluids onto Law’s hardworking tongue, throwing your head back and crying at the intensity of your orgasm.
“O-oh, my god, Law!”
Before you can even have a chance to recover, Law scoops you up and hoists you over his shoulder, carrying you to his bed.
“H-Hey!” you meekly protested, hitting your delicate fists into his back, “I need a second!”
“Sorry, dear,” he began, voice ridden with lust, “Need you now.”
You blushed immensely at his confession as he throws you gently onto the bed, wasting no time as he climbs atop you and locks his lips with yours. He’s breathing heavily as he kisses you, overcome with passion and desire. Your tongues dance together as you moan into one another’s mouths, Law dipping his hand down to begin working at the button and zipper to his jeans. You hear the familiar sound of a zipper being dragged along its track and clothes hitting the floor. When you open your eyes and glance down, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend’s long, beautiful cock standing upright against his stomach, pulsing with desire to be encased within your hot, tight, welcoming walls.
You wait patiently for Law to climb off of you and retrieve a condom from his nightstand, like he always does. Except, this time, for the first time, it begins differently. Law catches you offguard by taking his throbbing cock in his hand and rubbing his flushed, leaking tip up and down your slit, bare.
“B-But Law,” you started, voice trembling, “W-What about protection?” you uttered meekly.
Law chuckles as he holds himself up on top of you, his muscular arm flexing, still using his other hand to rub his bare tip against your leaking slit. “I want to feel you, y/n,” he begins, “Really feel you,” his voice is low and husky, “Everyday I sit at my desk and imagine what it would be like to fill you up with my cum until its spilling out of that pretty pussy of yours. I want to pump my babies into you, y/n” his face is in your neck as he confesses, his voice like warm honey in your ears.
Your legs tremble around his waist as you feel the evidence of your arousal now leaking more profusely onto your boyfriend’s thick cock.
“Then stuff me full, Law, please,” you purred into his ear, your voice velvety and seductive.
Law’s breath hitches in his throat and you feel his big cock twitch against your opening, clearly aroused by your desperate plea. He groans in your ear as he begins to push his blunt tip into your tight, leaking hole.
“F-Fuck baby,” he groans, “You ready?”
“Fuck me, Law,” you grasped at his muscular back as you pleaded, “Fill me with your babies.”
At this, Law wastes no time pushing into you, you let out a loud cry as he stuffs you full, in one swift motion, his long cock is fully enveloped within your tight, gummy walls.
“O-Oh my god, L-Law, you’re so big-!” you cry out, nails digging down his back.
He groans at the familiar feeling of your hot walls squeezing him in so tightly.
“I know I am, baby, show me you can take it,” he teases, voice shaky with pleasure.
Law begins to thrust his hips into yours, fucking you into the mattress as you shake and cry beneath him.
You inhale sharply each time he thrusts forwards, his blunt tip kissing your cervix with each movement, causing a small bulge in your stomach. Noticing this as well, Law smirks and presses a hand to your stomach to intensify your pleasure,
“Look at that, baby,” he groans, his eyes motioning to where his cock shows through your skin, “look how good im stuffing you,”
You cry out in pleasure, looking down to be greeted with the sight of Law’s cock pulsing beneath your skin.
“M-Mmm! Law-!”
Law’s tattooed hand moves upwards to hold your face, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into your cheek before he wipes your tears.
“You’re being such a good girl, y/n, taking this big cock of mine so damn well,” he praises.
You moan at his lewd remarks, wrapping your legs around his waist and pushing your ankles into his back, silently begging for him to go harder, faster, anything, you just needed more.
“Oh yeah?” Law smirks, “As you wish, my love.”
Law brings his hips back before slamming into you, making you scream out for him.
“Fuck! Law!” you cried, helplessly digging into his back. Your head spun at the intensity of the entire situation, your boyfriend finally letting his lewd desires escape his brain, his stoic composure breaking and coming undone and he pounds into your tight pussy and groans your name from atop you.
A serious 180 from earlier, when nothing but silence filled the room, but now, as your boyfriend had his way with you, the walls vibrated with the obscene sounds of moans and wet skin slapping together.
Law’s balls slapped against your cunt with each forward thrust, making you moan out delightfully at the feeling.
You felt yourself reaching your limit, colored tars dancing beneath your eyelids as you squeezed them shut while Law’s cock battered your cervix.
You dug your nails harder into his toned back, surely drawing blood, making him groan out loudly in pleasure.
“Shit, y/n, you’re taking me so well, you’re so fucking tight.”
You knew exactly what you had to say to break him, to make him burst inside you.
“F-Fill me, Law…” you whimpered in between thrusts, “stuff me full of your babies, make them leak out of this little pussy,” you cried, your eyes filled with tears, drool spilling from your mouth as you moaned for him.
“F-Fuck, y/n! You have no idea what that does to me-!” Law groaned through gritted teeth, his body trembling as he railed you.
And then, he pulls your legs from the death-lock they had on his waist and presses them down into the mattress, forcing you into a mating press.
“L-Law-!” you cried, now feeling his cock even deeper.
“G-Gotta make sure I get it all into you, y/n,” he groaned into your ear, making you shiver, “None of this cum can go to waste,” he purred, “Need to shoot it straight into your womb~”
You blush immensely at his obscene words.
He thrusts harder, now, the bulge in your stomach showing more prominently.
“N-Nghhh-! L-Law! I’m s-so close-!” you screamed, feeling yourself coming undone beneath pleasure-hungry, lust-ridden boyfriend.
“I’m right behind you, dear,” Law groaned, assuring you, “Let it out.”
And with his permission, you felt stars dance beneath your skin as you orgasmed, gushing onto Law’s throbbing cock, coating him in your slick.
“F-Fuck, baby,” Law cursed, voice hoarse, “I’m coming,” he groaned into your ear.
In an instant, you feel as Law’s cock shoots hot ropes of cum into your pussy, decorating your inner walls.
You throw your head back and moan out, digging your fingers into the bedsheets, trembling at the new sensation.
“L-Law-! Fuck! I feel it!” you cried, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and spilling down your hot, red cheeks.
“Y-Yeah? You feel my cum shooting into you, baby?” he groans, still thrusting into you, riding out his orgasm, forcing his cum deeper into you, “Gotta stuff it all into you,” he moans out.
You shake beneath him, feeling his hot cum begin to spill out of your cunt as he continues to stuff you with his big cock.
Eventually, Law’s hips slow and then still, his tattooed chest heaving up and down as he breaths heavily, coming down from his high.
He reaches down with a shaky hand and pulls out of you slowly, making you whine as you throb around nothing.
“Y/n?” he inquires, looking down at your flushed body, wet with sweat and moving up and down shakily as you breathe, attempting but failing to catch your breath. “Are you okay, doll?” he voice was ridden with concern, fearful that he overstepped with his kink.
You smirk and him and sit up, making him lay down before settling into his warm chest, his cum running down your legs.
You feel at home.
You hum happily before you looking up at him with your big doe eyes.
You grab his large hand in your smaller one, placing it gently on your stomach before leaning in to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, mirroring his statement from earlier,
“Everyday, I sit on your bed and think about how empty I feel.”
You feel your boyfriend tense beneath you, blush tinting his cheeks as you playfully bite at the shell of his ear,
“Thank you for filling me up, Law~”
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
anon, my dear, i sincerely hope this quenched your thirst-! it surely did mine (,,> ᴗ <,,)
i hope you all enjoyed breeding kink law!! ʚ♡︎ɞ
kisses,
willow ꒰⚘݄꒱
©this work belongs to willowhaze26.
do not repost, modify, plagiarize, translate, or share on other platforms. 
comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated!
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redwing4life · 23 days
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ASHES TO EMBERS MASTERLIST
PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbor!Bucky x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS: Night terrors (bucky), copious amounts of fluff, angst if you don’t search too hard for it, smut, firefighter bucky is a warning in itself
SUMMARY: When an unfortunate event forces you to confront the crush you’ve had on your neighbour since you moved in, you learn that Bucky knows you better than you know yourself. As the two of you grow closer, how does he deal with his past without pushing you away.
CHAPTERS: 5 - Ongoing
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tap whichever chapter title you want and enjoy reading <3
ONE: Forgotten Alarms
WARNINGS: Mentions of night terrors, trapped in small spaces, brief mention of reader being worried about bucky holding her weight, nothing else other than bucky being cute af
SUMMARY: When you get stuck in an elevator with your neighbour (who also happens to be your crush), you discover your interest in the firefighter isn’t as one-sided as you thought.
TWO: Shadows
WARNINGS: Fluff, talk about night terrors, ALPINEEE, reader continues to be oblivious, bucky being a flirt
SUMMARY: After yesterday’s elevator fiasco, you’re left with the guilt of overstepping in Bucky’s business. He could barely look at you when you went to the firehouse to thank the crew, so it’s fair to say you’re surprised when he turns up at the cafe you work at.
THREE: For You
WARNINGS: Mention of night terrors, Bucky being upset, fluff, flashbacks containing the death of a child, plenty of unholy thoughts, half naked bucky, dirty talk???, sexual tension, please let me know if i’ve missed something!!!
SUMMARY: You find Bucky at his most vulnerable when he’s sent home from work at 2 in the morning. While doing everything you can to comfort him, you realise you’re falling for him.
FOUR:
a/n: please lmk if you know the creator of the ai bucky images, full credit to them!!!!!
comment if you’d like to be added to my ashes to embers taglist 🧡
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ourautumn86 · 7 months
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Anderson’s Anatomy
neurosurgeon abby anderson x fem! reader (pt1)
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synopsis; you wake up next to the girl you’d met the night before. but what would happen once you get to your new job and discover you’d just fucked your boss?
cw: +18! minors dni!, implied sex, nudity, kissing, dirty talking, teasing, degradation, tension, sex in a public space (hospital), fingering (r receiving), orgasm denial…
It was your first day of work, and you were already running late. Last night had been a blast. And you had ended up having pretty much the best sex of your entire life.
Her name was Abby. More than 6ft tall, blonde, blue eyes and incredible body. She had been smooth. Really smooth as she had sat down next to you on the bar, offering you a drink. You couldn’t turn her down. She was beautiful, and her voice was making you feel dizzy. You could still remember the touch of her fingertips on your cheek as she brushed off a strand of hair that had fallen on your face, the feeling of her lips when you asked her to kiss you.
The drive back to your house, in which you had moved recently, was quick, but not less than the amount of time it took the two of you to get undressed.
You pulled from your bedsheets, covering your naked body as you got up from the bed. God, your whole body ached, and you could feel the bruises on your inner thighs, her fingers thrusting inside your pussy. You shivered, bitting down on your lip as you looked at her naked body, splayed on your bed, ass showing as she was laying on her front, her braided hair now free and softly laying on your pillow. She looked so relaxed…
You opened your drawers, getting a pair of panties and a bra to start dressing yourself. Abby seemed to hear your fumbling, slowly opening her eyes.
“You need to go.” you said, and she looked at you, raising herself, you really tried to not look at her muscles as she moved to sat up, abs, quads and biceps popping with her movements. Your skin grew in goosebumps at the reminder of how easily she had manhandled you last night.
“Why don’t you get here so we can continue where we left off?” she hummed, and you knew she knew you were tempted. But you shook your head, ignoring the way her eyes trailed down your body as you hooked your bra.
“No. I can’t.” you saw her smirk. “It’s my first day at my new job and I’m running late, something you’re not supposed to do on your first day.” you put on your shirt, before picking up hers from the floor and trashing it against her face. She huffed.
“I can drive you there.” she offered, getting her clothes to join you in getting dressed.
“Thanks. But I’m alright. I’m sure you too have places to be.” she smiled, before getting closer to you, her hands on your hips as her lips kissed softly your neck. For a moment your brain disconnected.
“I do… Into you. But you won’t let me.” you rolled your eyes, slightly pushing her with a sigh and a smile you tried to fight off. y
You dangerously pointed at her. “Keep it in your pants.”
“That’s not what you said last night. Begging so cute to fuck you dumb.”
You groaned, cheeks glowing red, and she chuckled. But still let you go. You pulled your pants up your legs.
“I’ll text you later. Alright?” you promised, and she nodded, cupping your face to leave a messy kiss on your lips.
“You better.”
-
“Uhm, Nora, excuse me. Lily’s parents are asking some questions. Do you know where her doctor is?” you inquired to your resident, she was scribbling something down on her folder.
“Oh yeah… That would be Anderson. She’s in there talking to some other neurosurgeons, go in.”
“Thanks.” you smiled, nodding and walking towards the rest room. You opened the door and looked at the people inside, but your smile quickly evaporated when you saw her.
Your eyes shot open, your skin growing pale.
“Oh fuck.” you muttered to yourself, quickly trying to get away before she could see you. But it was too late. She already had. She seemed surprised as well, shocked. What were the odds?
You quickly left the room, but she followed you after excusing herself.
“Hey, wait!” you made your way to the stair and she pushed inside, closing the door behind your back.
“Doctor Anderson…” you tried but she cut you off with a smirk.
“Doctor Anderson? It was Abby last night.” you sighed.
“Exactly. Last night. This is a brand new day. And this…” you pointed at the two of you. “, it’s not gonna happen again.”
“Why not?” she inquired.
“Because you’re my boss!” you quieted down as someone passed by you and went down the stairs. You gave them a smile before turning back to her. “I can’t be fucking my boss.”
“Your boss…” she hummed, getting closer. “That’s hot.”
You stepped back. “Abby.”
“Fine.” she rose her hands. “If that’s what you want. I won’t touch you anymore.” you nodded.
“Thank-
“Until you ask me to.” you groaned.
“Abby!”
She tutted. “It’s Anderson for you now, baby.”
-
“You paged?” she inquired, not even looking at you.
You knew this was for the best. You couldn’t get involved with your boss. It could bring a lot of trouble. It was wrong. But fuck, why the hell did she have to look good all the time?
She was wearing her white coat with her scrubs, her hair on her signature braid, strong arms showing as she wrote down on the medical report.
“Yes. Doctor Anderson, Doctor Moore was asking for a diagnosis on bed 5. Young woman on her 20s…” you followed behind her like a lost puppy as she started walking towards the bed, drawing the curtains. “Melissa Greens. Complains about dizziness, lose or consciousness and extreme headaches. Familiars have also told us that she usually passes out and has mild seizures.” you informed and she nodded.
“Good morning, Melissa. I’m Doctor Anderson. I’m gonna give you a quick exam, is that alright?” the girl turned beet red at her smile, and you felt your stomach turn. “Good. Please follow this pen for me…” she instructed, waving her pen in front of her eyes. “Pupils reactive to light…” she blinded her with its little light. “Fluid movement. Great.” she saved it back on her coat’s pocket. “Let’s do a MRI, put on an IV. Start her on a slow drip. Something for the seizures to make sure she doesn’t move too much during the test. We need a clear image of the brain.” this time she talked to you, and you nodded, taking the necessary things to put on the IV. She was still not moving, inspecting your every move, arms crossed over her chest.
“This won’t hurt.” you promised her with a smile, to what she nodded. You circled her arm with the rubber band so the veins would show up, disinfected the zone, and prepared the needle. “Just a little pinch…” you muttered, as you put it on as quick and as painless as possible. Once it was in, you got out the rubber band, putting some cotton and tape so the IV wouldn’t move. Later on, you took the baggie and hung it on the hooks. “A nurse will be here in a second.” you smiled and she thanked you.
You took some notes, and talked to the nurse, telling her that she’ll need an MRI and to page you when it would be done.
“Good job.” Abby suddenly spoke, and you looked at her.
“Thank you.” you entered the coffee room. You were almost finishing your 24 hour shift, and you were truly exhausted. You needed some coffee. You poured some of it on a cup, trying not to look at her. She trailed up behind you, you could smell the pine of her skin at your back. You sighed.
It had been two weeks since you told her you two couldn’t see each other anymore. And fuck if it was difficult.
“You look good…” she muttered. It was only the two of you in the room. You turned around to face her. Her eyes were bluer than you remembered. They were so pretty…
Your cheeks turned red. You missed her voice so much…
“Doctor Anderson…” you sighed. “We can’t…” she caged you against the counter, her hands on each side of your hips, still not touching you. She hadn’t since the day she told you that first you’d have to ask for it.
“I’m not doing anything.” she smirked, leaning closer, and your eyes fell to her lips. “Something tells me that disappoints you.” your breath hitched, one of her hands pushing behind your ear the hair framing your face.
“I’m not disappointed.” you shook your head, and she chuckled.
Her other hand grabbed your hip, pushing you flush against her. You gasped. You could smell her stupid pine scent, her deodorant. It was intoxicating. “You sure?” she bit down on her bottom lip, and you unconsciously wetted yours with your tongue.
Before you could control yourself, you were tugging from her white coat, crashing your lips against hers. She groaned, pushing you harsher against the counter as her tongue entered your mouth. You whimpered, jumping when her hands tapped on your thighs to pull you up in between her arms and on the counter.
“We should stop.” you muttered in between deep kisses, although you didn’t want to. Fuck. She tasted just like you remembered.
“Yeah.” she agreed, but still pushed her tongue inside your mouth. Her palms felt heavy on your ass, your panties soaking wet and pussy throbbing. You needed her. So bad it was almost like a disease. “Fuck. I’ve missed you.” she muttered against your lips, kisses trailing down your jaw to your neck. Her hands snuck inside the back of your coat and blue medical shirt, feeling up warm skin. “You know how hard is to be professional when you look so fucking good all the time? Even on scrubs. Shit. Makes me go crazy and want to fuck you on one of the surgical beds.” you moan when she sucks on that sweet spot on your neck.
“Me too… Shit. I think about you all the time.” you whimpered, pulling from her braid as you felt her hands move from your back to your chest, squeezing your tits.
“Oh, yeah? All the time?” you could feel one of her hands trailing down your stomach to where you most needed her. And you knew you should stop her. You were on a public space. Somewhere anyone could walk in any time and see the two of you. But her touch felt so good after so much time depriving yourself from it… You cried out when she pushed inside your pants and panties, fingers running through your slick folds and drawing tight circles on your clit.
“All the time.” you promised in a breath, too gone under her touch. She chuckled at the sight. Jaw slack, droopy glazed over eyes, flushed cheeks and swollen lips.
“Aw look at you. Already so fucked out and haven’t even fucked you yet.”
“Abby, please…” you pleaded, your hips thrusting against her touch.
“So it’s Abby now, huh?” she teased you. “Can’t call me Doctor Anderson without thinking about the fact that you’re begging your boss to stuff up your pussy with her fingers?” you blushed so deeply it made her chuckle. And you didn’t answer, yet she still spoiled you by pushing in her middle finger. You two heard the slick sound the entering of her finger inside your tight cunt made, and it made you shiver.
She groaned. “So wet it slid right in.”
You whimpered, trying to muffle out your moans as she started to pump it in and out of you. She wanted to take her time with you, but she knew she couldn’t, so she added a second finger when you seemed to be loose enough before curling them to hit your g spot.
You were so pent up and sensitive that you felt your orgasm creeping in. Her thumb was against your clit, rubbing and stimulating you like you knew you could never do to yourself. How many night you’ve touched yourself with her on mind you wouldn’t know nor count.
“I’m gonna cum…” you sobbed, thighs clenching and shaking, walls tightening around her fingers.
“Oh, yeah?” and before it could hit you, she was pulling her fingers out of you and taking her hands away.
“What the fuck?!” you screamed, your eyebrows knitting together and anger building up on your stomach as you felt the pleasure disappear. You had been so close…
“You want to cum?” she questioned. “You know how to find me.” she pointed at her pager, pushing the two fingers she had plunged deep inside you into her mouth before walking towards the door and leaving, closing it behind her back.
You groaned, jumping down from the counter. You almost squirmed at the wetness in between your thighs. And you surely almost screamed in frustration.
Fuck Abigail Anderson. You didn’t need her.
You absolutely didn’t.
-
a/n; 🤭 had to do a surgeon abby fic!!
credits for the idea to: @cherriesxinthespring
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indigovigilance · 7 months
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A Nightingale Sang in 1941
This is my inaugural meta (yay!) Eventually I will learn how to add gifs and whatnot to make this more interesting but today, I give you a wall of text.
I need to give credit where credit is due to three existing metas that I’m drawing upon heavily here:
A speculative continuation of the 1941 story, which includes an almost-kiss while “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” plays on the gramophone,
A behavioral analysis of Aziraphale during the S2E6 finale (will find ref later if possible)
A meta-analysis of the way in which “coffee” is used as a symbolic equivalent for liberty and freedom of choice, a running theme of this show (will find ref later if possible)
I’m going to expand upon meta #2 and #3 and explain why I think there is are very compelling reasons to believe that #1 will be canonized.
At the end of S1E6, an instrumental version of “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” plays diegetically, but the lyrical version plays non-diegetically over the credits (we hear it but the protagonists don’t). So we the audience could plausibly say “that’s their song,” but as of the close of S1, we have no reason to believe that they know that it’s their song. Even Aziraphale’s S1E3 (1967) suggestion that they dine at the Ritz could be a reference that only he gets, or just a fancy restaurant suggestion.
So when I was watching S2E6 and Crowley said “no nightingales,” I was jarred. What does that even mean? We know it has something to do with dining at the Ritz, but what does it mean to them? The reference only works if they know it’s their song. But we’ve only ever seen them hear it together after the averted apocalypse; if this is the direct reference that Crowley is making, it leaves our 1967 reference contextless and twisting in the wind.
If we assume that there was a romantic story beat in 1941, wherein “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” (which, incidentally, was written in 1939 and saw the height of its popularity at the end of 1940, so timeline-wise it’s spot-on) became their song, then a lot of events get renewed interpretations through this lens, in a way that makes this story much more cohesive and the “no nightingales” comment even more soul-shattering than it already was.
Let’s presume that immediately after this became their song and just as they were discovering their romantic potential, they were forced back into hiding. Forever after, references to the song serve as a macro for “I’d like to pick up where we left off that night.”
The 1967 suggestion of “dining at the Ritz” now becomes a directly romantic suggestion. It also gives better context for “you go too fast for me.”
Actually going to the Ritz in 2019 is not simply a celebration or even a callback to 1967, it’s a callback to their almost-romance of 1941.
When Crowley says “no nightingales” in 2023, this isn’t to say “we’re not going to eat together at the Ritz anymore.” It’s saying that the romance that began that night, the precious, fragile romance, is over.
I’ll give you a moment to dry your eyes before we move on to metas #2 and #3.
In light that this is what has been going on - they know they want a romantic relationship but have gotten so used to hiding and denying it that they are more comfortable keeping the status quo static and quo-y then trying to achieve their ideal - a lot of S2 behavior can get a fresh view.
Crowley’s reaction to Nina isn’t a realization that he’s in love - he knew that already. You can only ask someone to run away with you so many times before you are forced to admit some things to yourself. No, he’s realizing that trying to hide it (which was justified by survival), hasn’t been working, but despite failing at being stealth nothing bad has happened. He’s realizing that it may finally be safe to show it.
Crowley’s confession, then, is not a revelation. It’s making the subtext text. He’s not telling Aziraphale anything he didn’t already know. He’s saying it now because he thinks he’s safe to do so. Pin in that.
Lots of people have lots of theories about Aziraphale’s motivations in the S2 finale, which can more or less be divided into 4 camps: the genuinely held belief, the coffee theory, the lie theory, and the mutual trick theory (some version of the body-switching at the end of S1). Let me start by saying that I love all the fans and all their theories and I find their analyses to be insightful. The genuinely held belief theory, while I believe it to be erroneous, has been incredibly conducive to so many wonderful conversations and I love being in a community that has those conversations. But I’m going to explain why I think the lie theory finds the most support in canon.
Re-watch the finale (when you feel like you can) from 35:18 to 36:19 and then from 40:45 to the end, paying very close attention to Aziraphale’s words and his eyes. Michael Sheen is telling us a LOT with his eyes, and in the back half of the finale scene, with pacing.
For 60 seconds of footage, this setup is doing a lot of work. If Neil Gaiman wasn’t doing enough to beat us over the head with how evil the Metatron is, that glare at Crowley at the end with the non-diegetic ominous horns should convey the message. But again, focusing on Aziraphale. He initially refuses to talk to the Metatron; he’s made his position quite clear. There is no hint of regret or wavering; this is not someone who’s aching to return to the fold. The Metatron ignores his refusal and functionally forces him to accept a “cup of coffee.” The coffee isn’t spiked, but it is a metaphor. It is symbolic of choice. The Metatron is going to force Aziraphale to make a choice. Meta #3 does a great job of exploring the idea that a choice between anything and death is never really a choice. Hang onto that thought.
Notice I had you start up again 3 seconds before “The Conversation.” That’s because it’s important to note where the Metatron is right now. He is across the street, staring straight in through those giant windows to where our protagonists are about to have The Conversation. He is watching.
When Aziraphale returns, Crowley begins his “let me talk” riff. Aziraphale ought to be interested in what Crowley has to say, since the preamble is pretty compelling. You’ll notice that Aziraphale quickly turns to the window and back, through which he (but not we) can see the Metatron standing there, watching them. Aziraphale is then doing his best to get Crowley to STFU without raising the suspicion of the Metatron, eventually having to cut him off.
Because unfortunately, Crowley’s entire impetus for speaking up now is that it’s safe to do so. Only Aziraphale knows that they are in very real danger (or at least, Crowley is, but I’ll come back to that).
You might take something from the fact that he’s shaking his head while talking about “incredibly good news,” and seems to self-censor his criticism of Metatron (or more specifically, he takes ownership of any criticism of the Metatron, censoring out Crowley’s role in that, with the emphasis on I in “I might have misjudged him”).
Notice in the flashback that he begins the conversation reasonably relaxed. The Metatron also says a series of things about him that not only are false, but everyone, including the Metatron and Crowley, know are false: Aziraphale is not a leader, he’s a defector; he’s not honest, he lies all the time, in fact this entire season revolved around his one huge lie of hiding Gabriel. Not only does the justification not make sense coming from Metatron, but it shouldn’t make sense that Aziraphale would accept these reasons and it shouldn’t make sense to Crowley either. So is Aziraphale including these details in his recounting to Crowley so that he will get suspicious and figure out the jig? Maybe. Let’s continue.
Immediately upon being offered the job of Supreme Archangel, Aziraphale says “but I don’t want to go back to Heaven.” This is direct evidence against the genuinely held belief theory. If returning to Heaven and making a difference was a genuine motivation, we would have gotten a different response at this moment. But then we get something more.
“Where would I get my coffee?”
This is a beautiful response for a number of reasons; coffee should be trivial compared to the opportunity to be a Supreme Archangel, so it serves to highlight just how little interest Aziraphale has in returning. Taken at face value, it’s the Aziraphale equivalent of “not even at gunpoint.” But remember that coffee is a metaphor for liberty in this universe and this season. So what Aziraphale just said, in the language of Neil Gaiman metaphors, is:
I don’t want to go back to Heaven, I would rather have free will.
What does the Metatron do next?
He brings up Crowley.
Watch Aziraphale’s eyes before and after the mention of Crowley. He goes from confused to eye-flicking panic in the space of two syllables. Aziraphale already understands that his “no” is not being accepted, and that bringing Crowley into it can only possibly serve as a threat.
So the coffee, the choice, is a false choice. No one ever orders death. The Metatron has forced Aziraphale into a situation that looks an awful lot like a choice (it comes in a blue cup, after all) but it isn’t.
We definitely have some reliable narrator problems here. I’m going to presume for purposes of analysis that these cut-outs are accurate but incomplete, and that a more explicit threat about what would happen to Crowley if Aziraphale did not return to Heaven was made.
If we assume that Aziraphale has been made aware of a threat and is trying to hide that from Crowley, the rest of this scene reads very differently. Aziraphale cannot say, “you are in danger but you will be safe if you swear your allegiance to Heaven” or “I have to go, no matter what, and the only way we can be together is if you come with me,” but nonetheless he now has to convince Crowley to do the one thing he ought to know Crowley definitely doesn’t want to do all through subtext. Which we’ve spent an entire season establishing that they can’t communicate well when they are allowed to use their words. Disastrously, this is not a magic trick that Aziraphale can make work when it counts. Their failure to practice good communication means that, right now, when it counts most, they are not going to pull it off.
We see that Aziraphale is very hopeful that Crowley will pick up on his cues and play along. Obviously, he doesn’t.
If the whole riff about Hell being bad guys and Heaven being the side of truth and light is taken as genuine, it discards a massive amount of character development that we’ve witnessed in Job, Edinburgh, etc. (again, to all the genuine belief subscribers, I think it’s a compelling argument but it simply doesn’t account for the evidence). So if it’s not genuine, why say it? Again, to alert Crowley that something is Off, because Crowley should know that Aziraphale doesn’t actually believe that. They saved humanity from Heaven and Hell. They hid Gabriel from Heaven and Hell. Crowley knows that Aziraphale knows that Heaven and Hell are just two sides of the same coin. Notice again that Aziraphale glances out the window while he’s talking up Heaven; he knows the Metatron is watching, he can’t not defend the position of Heaven. I think it’s also worth noting that Aziraphale forcefully glances and gestures off to Crowley’s left (away from the window) when talking about Hell, and then turns his head to Crowley’s right (towards the window) to try to get him to realize that a representative of Heaven is literally standing right over there, just look out the window please dumbass!
When Crowley is asking Aziraphale if he said no, and we see the back of Aziraphale’s head, again we can see him turn his head to glance out the window. This is also when he changes strategies, and admits that Heaven could use a little reform. Because now there’s a problem almost as big as getting caught, which is that he won’t be able to get Crowley to go with him.
Which unfortunately makes the next part of this so much more heartbreaking. Because when Crowley begins his speech about being a team, Aziraphale wants to hear it. He can’t bring himself to shut down Crowley again, even though it could get them both in massive trouble. Notice that he glances out the window again during this, and the look of panic on his face. He begins to shake his head when Crowley mentions that Heaven and Hell are toxic; this can be taken a lot of ways but I’ll argue for the interpretation that he’s trying to get Crowley to STFU and stop saying shit that could get him destroyed.
After Crowley puts on his sunglasses we are in the “back half” and Sheen is doing a lot with phrasing here, specifically pregnant pauses.
“Come with me… to Heaven!”
“We can be together… as angels!”
Based on the pacing decision I am thoroughly convinced that the first half of each of these statements is intended to be the message to Crowley and the second half is always a qualifying statement to satisfy the Metatron.
Unfortunately, these pregnant pauses are completely backfiring in their effect on Crowley. The sentiment gives him hope and the qualifying statement crushes it again immediately. He is being taken on a horrible emotional rollercoaster with these declarations which are only further amping up his instinct to run away.
The only truly genuine, unaldulterated statement I think we get from Aziraphale is
“I need you!”
When it becomes clear to Aziraphale that there’s been an irreparable breakdown of communication between them and the subtext is not getting across, he says:
“I don’t think you understand what I’m offering you.”
He means this literally. Crowley has not understood that Aziraphale is offering him protection from whatever threat the Metatron has made.
Which makes this part extra-devastating and also absolutely in keeping with a major running theme of this season.
“I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do.”
Your understanding and my understanding are different understandings.
Crowley views the offer to return to Heaven through the lens of his trauma. He understands what life in Heaven would be like. But he doesn’t understand that Aziraphale is offering him protection.
But Aziraphale just heard Crowley say that he understood everything, and he’s still going to leave. There might be a little suspense of disbelief here to believe that Aziraphale really interpreted the statement this way, but we know that Aziraphale isn’t always the brightest battery-operated candle in the drawer. So under the assumption that Crowley did understand him and is still rejecting the offer, rejecting him—
“Well, then there’s nothing more to say.”
Please pay very close attention to Aziraphale’s body language for the next part. He’s active, agitated, turning side to side, arms swinging. This is a very fidgety angel.
“No nightingales.”
Aziraphale is now completely still. He’s feeling that feeling. You know it. The one where your entire body is getting sucked into the pit of your stomach. The aching paralysis.
This is their song, the one that began their romance in 1941, the secret code for all other attempts at flirtation. Crowley has walked out on him before, Aziraphale has been stubborn and obstinate before. But they always came back together, sometimes with an apology dance or other rituals that belonged solely to them.
But now the song is over.
By saying this, Crowley has broken up with Aziraphale. We can see in Aziraphale’s sudden transition from fidgety to paralysis that he has understood it this way.
Then he turns away from the window so that the Metatron won’t see him cry.
The kiss was heart-wrenching already. But we’re not done with this analysis.
During the kiss, Aziraphale has a choice to make between two very compelling bad choices. This is the Job dilemma. But worse.
If he doesn’t kiss Crowley back, he will let Crowley think that he doesn’t love him. He will have missed out on this (maybe/probably their first kiss?) and regret it forever.
If he does kiss Crowley back, in full view of the Metatron, they are in deep trouble.
He seems to do his best to split the difference. I would even go so far to say that the awkward arm waving is Aziraphale acting for the Metatron’s benefit, to try to portray that he doesn’t want this even though he absolutely does (just not like this). The anguish when they break the kiss is absolutely real, and the first thing he does is glance out the window. Through all this he has remained painfully aware of their spectator.
He wants to say I love you. He mouths it. He breathes it.
But the Metatron is watching.
He can’t tell Crowley I love you. So he has to say the only other thing that has always unequivocally meant “I love you” when he said it to Crowley. He has to hope that Crowley understands him now, even though he never has before.
Spoiler alert: Crowley doesn’t.
My forgiveness and your forgiveness are not the same forgiveness.
One more point against the genuine belief fans (I love you): if the offer to let Crowley back in is what changed his mind, then Crowley declining removes that incentive. Aziraphale should/would have consequently retreated to his last stated position of “I don’t want to go back to Heaven, where would I get my Crowley—I mean, coffee?” [post-publication nod to @theonevoice for a great little meta] It simply doesn’t hold up to scrutiny.
I think a lot of fans were already making these assumptions about the use of the nightingale song so this meta may not feel revelatory, however, it isn’t canon (yet), and I’m sure I’ll find company that agree that canonization of this connection would strengthen a lot of these story points, as evidenced by how it is already assumed by many fans.
If you made it to the end - omg thank you! Please leave a note and tell me your thoughts!
Bonus: somebody already made the song connection here
~~~
if you liked this, you may also like:
Book of Life and what it means for Crowley
The Erasure of Human!Metatron
Baraqiel and Azazel
~~~
Recommended related (lie theory) metas by other people:
making the subtext text by @theonevoice
Aziraphale's Decision Matrix by @yowlthinks
Nothing Lasts Forever: META by @phoen1xr0se
1K notes · View notes
zepskies · 9 months
Note
This is more of a Sam and Dean request than a reader and Dean request but what about Sam having a crush on Dean's gf? How would he react to that, I am honestly CRAVING angst and this is the angstiest, is that a word, thing I could think of, I am so sorry if you don't like angst or this makes you uncomfortable!!!
Oh my God. You killed me with this one, hun. 😫😫 I have another SB imagine coming next week, but I thought I'd put out this one for Dean to break it up a bit.
Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,500
Imagine: You are Dean's one exception.
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Sam knows it's wrong.
You're smart, with a degree in history that aids them well on hunts.
You're sharp, with a smart mouth that rivals Dean's (and keeps him on his toes).
But you're also kind. You take care of him and Dean with all the feminine grace and care they've never had in their lives.
Sam realizes it when he's up until 3 a.m. in the bunker's War Room. He's sat at the table, researching, eyes bleary, hands cramping from turning pages. And he finds a mug of hot tea sliding next to his idle hand on the table.
You're there with a smile and a hand on his shoulder. "Workin' hard or hardly working?"
Sam clears his throat and nods, chuckles a little. "I'm good." He eyes the mug. "Thanks, though I might need something stronger."
You eye him with gentle reproach. "Nope. Green tea is better for you this late at night. You really should go to sleep, Sam."
Sam tacitly agrees, but only because he can feel the warmth of your hand through his clothing, and it makes his face warmer than the tea. He watches you walk away, notices the curve of your ass in those little shorts. He can imagine your warm hands on his body, caressing him. He can imagine letting his lips graze your skin, exploring you, then devouring you.
And that's when his thoughts stutter to a halt. Sam inwardly cringes.
Despite his sleep-deprived brain, he's reminded that you're traveling down the hall to the room you share with his brother, and for Sam, it's nothing short of torture.
Because he realizes then that he isn't just fond of you. He doesn't love you like an older brother, or even a quasi-brother-in-law. He wants you.
Again, Sam knows it's wrong...but he can't help it. It's one of the saddest cliches in the fucking book. You're his brother's girl, and he wants you for himself.
And it's getting harder to hide it from Dean. They know each other too well -- a result of having no one but each other, but more practically, having lived in such close quarters for so long before they discovered the bunker.
When Sam gets hurt on a hunt, the cut is at a bad angle. He can't quite reach, so you dutifully come around and gently move his hand out of the way to do the stitch yourself. You tsk at him in playful disappointment. "I swear, it's a wonder you and Dean aren't walking patchwork quilts at this point."
Sam chuckles through his nose, wincing when the movement pulls on the stitch. You shoot him a stern look. "Stop moving."
"You're the one making me laugh!" he says, smiling incredulously.
"I don't accept excuses," you retort. "Keep still, please."
"Yes, ma'am," Sam says, his breath hitching for a different reason as he feels your soft hands along his side. He plays it off as pain. "Sorry," you murmur more sincerely. He tells you it's okay. His gaze flicks up, unconsciously finding Dean's face across the room.
He's just finished cleaning a cut on his hand. But he's been watching; Sam can tell. Dean's too perceptive not to notice Sam's discomfort. He probably even knows why. Sam can see a glint of it in Dean's eyes, the stoic front of his face.
"There we go!" you say in satisfaction, and you pat Sam's bare arm. He gives you a wan smile. "Thanks."
"You done, sweetheart?" Dean asks. You get up from your seat by Sam. "What do you need?" you ask.
"You. Come 'ere," he says with a smile, giving you a beckoning finger. "I felt that knot on the back of your head earlier. Think you're slick?"
You huff, but you also smile, in the way you only do for Dean. Sam watches you get up and go to Dean, who touches your cheek, stroking with a thumb first. Then he parts your hair to inspect the back of your head, and you wince a bit. You did fall pretty hard, now that Sam thinks of it. He frowns.
Dean lets out a deep breath. "You've got a nasty bump. You're taking it easy tonight, got it?"
"Yeah? Gonna help me relax?" you whisper. But Sam still hears you, because apparently no one taught you how the hell to whisper.
Dean smirks. "Watch it. I'll think you're flirting with me."
You give him a coy smile as your hand travels up his chest, between the open edges of his plaid shirt, then all the way down, to tease at his belt. "Believe me, when I do, you'll be the first one to know."
Dean's smirk deepens, but his eyes are softer. He closes a hand around yours and brings it to his lips. You lean up and request, wordlessly, for a kiss. Dean obliges you, capturing your lips with a soft kiss.
He eventually breaks from you, only to press his lips to your forehead next, closing his eyes with a sigh. He doesn't like it when you try to hide your injuries from him. You just don't want him to worry so much.
You smile and rest against his chest afterwards. It's clear as day what your heart holds.
It's hard for Sam to watch. His throat constricts, but he takes pains to avert his gaze.
He's so full to the brim with this that he sees no other recourse. He catches Dean alone in the kitchen and tries to make a confession. "Dean, we need to talk."
"Can it wait 'til I'm done?" Dean's plating up some stovetop mac and cheese -- your favorite.
"You're done cooking," Sam points out. Dean looks up at him. "We're doing a little dinner in bed situation. I made her promise to take it easy."
Sam admires the way Dean takes care of you. He really does. But it's also like a small oyster knife twisting in his gut. "Good. I'm glad," is all he says. "Yeah, we can talk later."
"Later" doesn't come for a long time. Weeks, in fact. But every time he tries to broach the problem, Dean finds a way to wiggle out of having the conversation. Always a distraction. A hunt. A fire you almost started in the kitchen. Being "in the middle" of something -- something in the bedroom that you insist needs Dean's immediate attention. Sam gives up for a while after that.
But Winchesters are nothing if not goddamn stubborn. Sam finally catches Dean alone in his room for once. You've gone to the grocery store, leaving the brothers alone in the bunker, but not for long, so Sam needs this chance.
"Dean, can we talk?"
Dean looks up at his brother from where he sits on the edge of his bed. He taps his knee, releases a breath. They both know what this is.
"Are you gonna do more than talk?" Dean asks. It's not what Sam expects. "What?"
"Whatever's on your mind, are you ever gonna do something about it?" Dean asks.
Sam stares back at his brother. He thinks. Hard. He's flipped back and forth for months. If he tells you how he feels, it's over. Things will never be the same between the three of you. It'll confuse you. It might even hurt you. It'll hurt Dean. Sam loves you both, if in very different ways.
So Sam is a bit deflated when he raises his resigned gaze and meets his brother's. "No."
After a moment, Dean nods. "Then we've got nothing to talk about."
But... Sam wants not to want you. Not to love you. Deep, deep down, a large chunk of him feels that he shouldn't have to hide himself. That you have a right to know the depths of what he feels, and what he feels for you.
"I see you're not convinced," Dean says dryly. Sam is silent, until Dean sighs and beckons him over. Sam obliges and sits down next to his older brother, the man he's looked up to (at least metaphorically) his whole life.
"I'd give my life for you. You know that. Right, Sammy?" Dean says. "If I couldn't tear the world apart, I'd lay myself out flat."
Sam sighs. "Dean..." Of fucking course he knows that. Dean already had given his life for him once. Remembering that only adds to Sam's guilt.
Dean meets Sam's gaze directly then. "But this is where I draw the line. She's my line," he says. His face is almost stoic, but his eyes are filled with unyielding fire. "I'm not layin' down on that. Not for you. Not for anyone."
Sam's heart clenches with every kind of pain, but he's also never respected his brother more. He nods. "I get it."
"No, you really fucking don't," Dean says. He's more than serious. "I mean it, Sam. I'll break your damn nose."
After a long moment, Sam nods. He knew Dean loved you. Of course he did. But this is the first time Sam truly understands how deeply. How completely. It's more than jealousy can fathom.
Sam realizes then that he lost, even before he began.
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AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 I got way deeper into this than I expected to. Poor Sam. 😭 But I hope this scratched your angsty itch, my dear!
Read the Sequel
Here's the requested sequel to this: Sam crosses the line.
Also, if you want to read the reverse of this (Dean is in love with Sam's girlfriend): Dean gives you an impossible choice.
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Dean Winchester Imagines
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Dean Tag List:
@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin
@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine
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yeyinde · 1 year
Note
OK but i need to know if price allows his wife to trim his beard …can you please write a drabble on it to feed my price addiction
Oh, absolutely!! I bet it’s easier for him to have someone he trusts cut his hair for him. His beard, though—I imagine he grooms it himself (too many oh, sir, you should cut it this way—), and he prefers a straight razor over a blade. If he really, really trusts you, he'll let you do it for him, but he's been grooming his beard since he was 28, and so. No one does it better than he does. 
His hair, however? He considers it a free cut.
》 WARNINGS: Um. Just some domestic bliss, really. Bantering. Allusions to sexual content, PTSD, and trust issues (not as serious as it sounds; just briefly mentioned). This is basically just gratuitous fluff. This was written with absolutely no discernible characteristics for the Reader—gender-neutral reader 》 WORD COUNT: 1,9k
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"Hold still."
"Holdin' as still as I can, love."
His words are thick—little more than a grumble rasped into the collar of his shirt, distorted from the tilt of his head, chin resting on his sternum. 
To someone else, his tone might be misconstrued as waspish; a scathing snap sawed between his clenched teeth, and coloured in a thick paint of impatience. 
But you know him more than most, and the huffiness of his tone only serves to amuse you. 
(Your irascible man.)
Still. 
Your fingers snake through the overgrown locks on the top of his hand until you have a fistful trapped tight between each of your digits, and then you tug just so. A warning. Not enough to hurt him, of course, but enough that it makes him tense—makes him groan. 
His voice loses the surly pinch, and sounds decidedly breathless—a fact that makes you stifle a grin. 
"Gonna start somethin' you can't finish, you bloody minx."
"Gonna cut your skin if you don't stop wriggling around," you volley back. 
He huffs, shoulders slumping down with his sharp exhale. "Just get on with it. Getting stiff sittin' like this."
You ease off the clutch of his hair, but keep the locks between your fingers, eyeing the length, before nodding to yourself, and bringing the scissors close to the tuffs spilling out. 
The snipping sound of the shears cutting through his hair fills your small washroom. His shoulders seem to relax, if only slightly, as you work. 
You cut the locks between your pinky and ring finger shorter than the rest, and wince. 
"You know," you murmur, brows furrowing as you try to gauge whether or not it's passable enough to be overlooked, or if you'll need to cut all of it shorter to match. "You could go to a barber. A professional."
He grunts. You know what he's going to say before he says it, and you wordlessly mimic the words that leave his lips:
"Cheaper this way, ain't it?" He drops his chin when you nudge his head. 
Cutting his hair has become a small tradition between you, one that started a few months into your relationship when he showed up at your door, three hours late to a planned date with a bucket hat on his head, and a package of forget-me-nots in his hand (seeds, he said, because flowers will wilt and die in a day but if you plant them in your garden, they'll regrow forever). His hair was longer than usual, curling just under his chin, and the sight of him—so frazzled and unkempt compared to how put together he normally was—made something inside of you ache.
He'd rushed here as soon as he could, complaining that his flight was delayed, and his barber quit on him, and all the while, your fingers itched with the urge to run them through his overgrown locks, to feel the silken hair against your palm. 
(To grip tight and not let go.)
The words slipped out with very little conscious thought: I can cut it for you. 
He seemed almost caught off-guard, but the obvious discomfort of having his hair tickle the nape of his neck made his acquiescence much easier. 
You discovered that night just how much you liked having his hair in your hands, and he seemed to realise that fucking you against the wall, while you tugged on his freshly cut hair, in lieu of payment was much more preferable than dealing with a barber. 
"No," he grouses. "They're always goin' on 'bout undercuts, and tryin'a get me to shave my chops, and I ain't dealin' with that when I 'ave you." 
"Free labour?" 
"Hardly." He scoffs. "Gonna break my damned back one of these days, you bloody—"
"—hold still, love," the stolen endearment makes him shudder, but he quiets when you rest the flat of the blade over the crest of his ear, cutting the overgrown hair around his sideburns. "That's it. Good boy."
"Keep playing with me, love, and I'll show you who's a good—" 
Another tug. His scorching words taper off into a growl. 
"You don't seem to complain much when you pull me in for another round—ah, ah—" You tug his hair again when he moves, fighting a wide grin. The plastic handles of the scissors slide back until it arches off the back of your hand, thumb brushing the loose hair from behind his ear. "God, you're so stubborn. You want to get cut, don't you?"
"Trust you not to leave me a bloody mess by the end of this." 
With his chin dipped so far down into his collar, his words are honey-thick and robust, and the deep cadence alone makes your toes curl in your slippers. 
"Trust me that much, hmm?" 
Despite the transparent barb, the tease in your slightly breathless tone, he doesn't hesitate. "With my life." 
"Aren't you a charmer?" 
"Almost done? I'll show you how charming I can be—"
"Nearly. Would've finished an hour ago if you'd keep still."
He grumbles again, but the words are swallowed by the snip of the scissors. An impasse blooms in the scant space between your front, and his broad back. Comfortable, like all silences with him have become. Despite your griping, cutting his hair is soothing—intimate in a way you'd never come to expect it to be. 
It might be the explicit trust he places in your hands when you direct him to tilt his chin for you at a mere tap against his jaw, or the crown of his head. Wordlessly following your commands as soon as they're conveyed. 
To anyone else, such a display is commonplace, but you've been through the thick of everything to know that exposing his neck in such a vulnerable way to you, and so soon after a mission, is more meaningful than any declaration of trust could ever be. The innate drive to protect his fragile pieces from harm often leads to him flinching away from the sharp end of the shears, but it diminishes just as quickly as it rears, and he sits, docile and accommodating, for you. Allowing you this minuscule power over him. 
Maybe that's why he refuses to see a barber, opting to let you chop his hair in whichever style you deem attractive instead. Explaining to someone else why he's so tense, why he sometimes can't stifle the small jerk when cold metal kisses the nape of his neck, seems tiresome. The unneeded opening of a barely healed scab. 
It was a battle getting him to open up to you, to let you invade his space, and squeeze through the splinters in his resolve when it became clear that you weren't going anywhere that wasn't with him. 
The thought of it alone warms you. The ache in your joints from holding your hands still, cutting through the thick tufts of hair, feels like a small burden in comparison to what he's shown you with this. 
It's been barely five hours since he touched down at Heathrow. His duffle bag is still packed. His fatigues are still on. He hadn't even showered off the stench of the mission, or scoured the blood and dirt from between his nails, and yet—
You tap his cheek. His head lifts, and then lists to the side. The smooth curve of his neck is exposed. His exterior vein throbs through his sun-kissed skin. 
Affection blossoms in your chest. 
"Missed you." 
The words are barely a whisper, but his eyes peel open, icy blue finding yours as you lean over him, getting the last patch of hair near his temple. 
John says nothing in response, but he doesn't have to. You see it all—feel it. The vein in his neck throbs more intensely as his heart rate picks up, and that alone is more than an echoed sentiment in return. It's enough. 
But still:
His hand lifts with a deliberate slowness until the pads of his fingers kiss your wrist. He burns red-hot—skin just as fiery as his temper—and the warmth of his rough skin bleeds into you when he wraps his full palm over your arm, thumb brushing your flesh in a distinct pattern. 
When you recognise it, you falter. 
It isn't quite Morse code, but it's something he taught you on the eighth date when you asked if the wordless hand signals were accurate in the movie you'd just seen. His hand found yours as he led you out of the theatre, and down the cold, wet streets of Liverpool. 
"No," he snorted, derisively. And then spent the three blocks back to your flat showing you the different commands they used in the SAS, and the ones he taught his men. "If you can, skin on skin is better. Less likely to be seen. We save it for hostage situations. Like this—"
Blisteringly intense cerulean never wavers from yours as he lets you feel the words he rasps over your skin. 
You try not to tremble with the shears pressed too close to his skin, and quietly pull them away. He watches as you place them on the ledge of the vanity, hand never releasing yours. 
You brush the loose hair from his shoulders, trying to hide a smile.
"All done." 
John hums, the noise a crackling ember that fills the hush in the room, and notches between your ribs where it sticks against your thudding heart. 
"What's the verdict?"
"Why don't you see for yourself?"
Loose hair falls from his shoulders when he stands until it dusts across the tile below his feet. He leans over the sink, shaking his head above the basin, before settling, angling his chin as he takes in your shoddy handiwork. 
"Looks good."
You snort. "Sure. I'll have to go over it once you finish showering because someone wouldn't sit still long enough for me to clip around your crown, and—"
He turns to face you, and the playful diatribe is cut off when his warm palms fit against your hips. It's his turn to tug, and he does so with a sharp jerk of his wrists, pulling you taut to his chest. 
His eyes bore down into yours, mirthful blue. "Yes, yes," his eyes roll briefly toward the ceiling, lips curling into a soft smirk. "But someone kept tryin'a clip my ears, and pullin' on my hair."
"Someone, eh?" You volley coyly, reaching up, and curling your fingers into the bristles of hair spilling from his cheeks. 
At your gentle touch, his expression shifts to contemplative. His chin tilts when your nails graze his skin. 
"You like my beard, don't you?" 
Your brow lifts in question. "Yes, you know I do. Why? The boys making fun of you for it?"
"Gaz said I looked like an Edwardian lord—" you snort at the comparison. He pinches your side. "Watch it."
"Is that all?"
"Soap said they're grabable."
"Yeah, they are," you purr, taking in as much as you can in your fists. "Very steerable, too. But why is Soap concerned about that?"
"Said someone could grab 'em. Drag me by 'em, and—"
"Like his mohawk?"
He concedes your point with a flash of teeth. "You don't think I need to trim 'em?"
"And lose my handlebars? No way—"
His darken. "Dirty little thing, aren't you?" 
"For you? Always." 
"Mmm," he tilts his chin down, and presses his mouth to yours, teeth nipping your bottom lip. "Insatiable little minx."
"You love it." 
"You know I do." His hands tighten on your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. When you peer up at him, his pelagic gaze turns turbid with desire. "Now, about your payment…"
2K notes · View notes
kalki-tarot · 5 months
Text
Love & Career in 2024 🖤🍷💸
@kalki-tarot
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I'll be using tarot cards and my own intuition so it may not resonate with everyone. Keep in mind that this reading is purely for entertainment purposes so be mindful of your own actions and choices. I'm not responsible for any decisions you make on behalf of my readings.
Pick a pile masterlist 🖤
Pile 01
8 wands, 6 wands, page of swords, queen of swords, knight of pentacles
Hello beautiful souls 💓
Let's talk about your career first. I'm seeing you getting praised or popular very fastly. If you're manifesting something career related then it's your sign it's gonna enter your life soon! You'll get a promotion at your workplace and if you're still studying then I'm seeing you're gonna be the top student of your class. Everyone will praise you and you'll be in Everyone's talks and gossips about how did you achieve it.
If some things got stuck or stagnant then a change is coming soon. All this stagnant energy will flow away and new creative and inspiring energy will lead you towards success my dear pile 1. Don't worry just be consistent and your efforts will be recognized and appreciated very soon.
New ideas will be put into action or will be manifested in reality. If you wanna start a new course then it's the right time to do so. I'm seeing communication for you too. You'll get new opportunities and will make new contacts and connections in your work life which will help you alot leveling up more.
Your overall energy is the Queen of swords which tells me that this year, you'll just focus on your goals and won't spend too much time thinking about the bs. Your plans would be clear cut and will be put into action. I'm not seeing you procrastinating or smth like that. It's a very fast, quick and easy going energy, but stable throughout.
New opportunities on the way! I'm seeing you getting a job letter or something like that. If you're struggling with getting a job then an opportunity is out there in 2024! So be ready ♡
2 wands, 8 wands, 9 pentacles, Temperance, 6 swords, 9 swords ( 5 pentacles, the devil, 4 pentacles, the moon, 5 swords)
Woah! You know what pile 1, we need to let go of some things before before it's too late. We need to let go of things even if it hurts only for our own good. The bad or good news is I'm seeing you breaking up or finally letting go of a toxic relationship or love. You've held it in for so long and in 2024, I'm seeing you releasing all of that. It's better to leave than being left out in the cold, right?
2024 is the year of a fresh start and ending the cycles. It's the year to relax and heal. It's great that you're walking away from such people. I know it takes a lot of strength and courage to do that and you have the guts to leave someone so toxic and unhealthy for you. I'm not necessarily seeing someone new entering in your life. I'm seeing YOU, choosing to walk away from this situation.
You'll know that the grass is greener on the other side. You'll explore new things in love. Maybe go on a few dates? By the end of 2024, you'll be balanced spiritually and physically. You'll be properly healed and you'll discover much more about yourself rather than other people. It's necessary to know ourselves before trying to understand some one else. That's it for you, please reblog this post if you liked it. Thanks ♡
Pile 02
3 of swords, page of pentacles, ace of swords, 6 of wands, the devil, 8 of wands
Career wise, Things may get a little rocky for you this year. But don't worry, with extra caution and mindfulness you'll be able to thrive through this. The advice I'm getting for is to not take any shortcuts for success to come fast, as it'll only result in your own downfall.
Be careful of people who look very nice and popular as they're not what they seem from their outer side. Just focus on grabbing opportunities and working truthfully for yourself and your loved ones. Your creative energy would be at peak this year, it's time for you to realize your potential and work with it next year.
Your 2024 is the year to hustle hard so be dedicated to your work/study. Lot's of success will be at your door if you don't fall into any traps.
Knight of cups, wheel of fortune, 9 of pentacles, 4 of pentacles, the hermit, 7 of wands ( 9 swords & 8 pentacles )
Wow babe! You've done lots of healing and lot's of self care in 2023! And now it's the time for love finally coming into your life through divine intervention in 2024. As we have the wheel of fortune here, I'm seeing You've finally let go of the old cycles and karmic patterns.
The old thinking patterns and attachment wounds will be healed. You'll fight your way through this very powerfully. You've done a lot of self introspection and self discovery in 2023.
You are one step ahead of pile 1, you're asked to just go with flow and let the universe guide you through the vast ocean of sadness to the never ending love. A romantic, water sign energy may approach you with love 👀 next year. Abundance and clarity will flow through just don't complex your emotions any more. Trust your intuition and let it guide you.
That's it! Pile 2 ♡ If this helped you a little bit please comment and reblog xoxo
Pile 03
The magician, Temperanc, ace of wands, 8 wands, ace of cups, the fool (king of cups)
The year 2024 will bring you lots of emotional satisfaction in terms of your career. You would be a successful person, but with the right actions and decisions. Create a path for yourself and walk on it. You should have the desire amd commitment if you wanna achieve something in life.
In 2024, there is a need for you to have a clear mindset snd step wise approach. Do everything in a proper balance. Good things take time to manifest. Your dedication and ability to stay composed under pressure will help you stand out.
Whatever you're thinking about, go for it. Just "go for it", don't think too much if that gives you happiness. Whether you've been thinking about launching a project or reaching out to a new networking connection, 2024 is the time.
Next year would be an year of swift progress and rapid growth. Everything will seem so fast and would gain momentum. You may even travel for work.
Something would be headed your way in your professional life, whether that's a new job, a new responsibility within your current role, or even a new business partner or connection, a new and promising path may be opening up.
You'll overall enjoy this year in terms of your professional or career life.
10 swords, 2 of wands, knight of pentacles, 5 of pentacles, queen of swords, 5 of wands, the tower ( 9 swords, 7 cups, magician )
Listen pile 3, to be honest 2024 would be rocky for you, you know. I channeled that you should not go alone in clubs or pubs or take any drinks with strangers. Be careful guys.
For some of you I'm getting that you guys are just staying single this year and focusing more on your self growth and options in love. You may solo travel or go on solo dates. You know loving yourself and all.
You may actually reach out to a therapist if your experiences were not so good in love before. If not, then I'm seeing you reaching out for yourself, my love. You're giving yourself the love and warmth you've never received from anyone else. You're now, not letting bs people get into your life and make a hell out of it. You're tryna stay healthy and happy.
For some of you, there's an advice of manifesting new love in your life. Get into that mindset. List down all the qualities you want in a partner and visualizing would also help you.
I'm seeing a divorce for some of you, or even a legal matter that involves a person you once loved. They probably lied and deceived you. You may fight for yourself in the court this year. Sending Lots of hugs and love to you dear if this is happening to you. Stay strong and you'll be more blessed. 💓✨️
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glassartpeasants · 1 month
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How to Love
Eustass Kid/Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, semi-slow burn?, beginnings to chapters are hard </3
A/N: yeah here we are. just wanted to set a light on what the base plan is. Also, this takes place RIGHT after the prologue ends. hopefully, it's good for a first chapter.
~~~
Your heart beats harshly against your ribs as the events of only moments ago replay in your mind like a broken record. The images of the two most significant people in your world, your boyfriend and your best friend, betraying you, makes your head spin. It almost feels unreal, like a nightmare instead of reality.
But it wasn’t a dream. It was a harsh reality, a stark contrast to the life you thought you were living.
Instead of waking up next to your boyfriend, you find yourself in a disorienting place: your ex-best friend's ex-boyfriend's car. Random items you managed to grab scattered across the passenger side and on your lap. The smell of Eustass’s cologne, a scent that used to bring comfort, now only added to your heartbreak, still plaguing your nose.
“Thank you, Law. You really didn’t have to.” Despite being almost inaudible, Law still heard you like you were screaming. The tremble in your voice notifies him of his own inability to speak without breaking down.
“It’s fine. Thank you for telling me about (.....)-ya’s infidelity.” The fact you even told him in the first place shocked him. You had known (.....) for years, and she was your best friend, while you only had a class project with him. Given that it was a whole semester-long, you were willing to throw away a friendship just like that. 
“You're a good guy, Law. You don’t deserve to be cheated on. Whether we’re friends or strangers. I would have told you regardless. No one deserves such heartbreak.” Law can see tears slipping down your cheeks out of the corner of his eyes. The fact that you're trying to stay strong after being the one to discover the affair is admirable in a sense. It could also be that you didn’t want him to see you cry. The latter sounds more plausible.
“I'm glad I didn’t delete your number. It would have been awkward if I had tried to catch you at work.” A small, sad chuckle left your lips. The tension in the car was too much, and you needed something to keep your mind distracted so you didn’t start wailing in front of Law.
“That would have been a scene I’m grateful we avoided. I like to keep my private life and work life separate.” 
“I’m the same in a sense. I don’t tell my co-workers much except to recommend shows or movies. I know you're more of a book guy, but have you seen any shows or movies recently?”
“(.....)-ya made me watch a movie the other day. It was a horror movie.”
“Oh. Was it good?”
“No, it was terrible.” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at Law's cold tone.
“Bad effects, or was it a storyline issue?”
“I could’ve made a better movie with a budget of two dollars.” Even though tears still fall from your eyes against your wishes, Law manages to make you laugh to ease the pain.
“Well, have you read any good books recently?”
“Haven’t had the time.” Law’s admission made your eyes furrow together. You know the medical field could be rough, but there wasn't enough time for him to read?
"The bookworm hasn't read recently? Are you sure you're the real Law?" A small smile tugs at the corner of Law’s lips as he listens to you talk, but even he can only hide the effects of heartbreak for so long.
Whether Law knew it or not, you could see tiny droplets of water gather in his eyes. Seeing him trying to hold it together made it just a bit harder to prevent yourself from breaking down. You grip the seat of his car and try to regulate your breathing. Clenching your teeth together,  you lay your head on the window and look outside. The sudden tap of water hitting the glass makes you jump. You look around and watch as more water droplets start hitting the car. 
“It’s raining. I thought it was supposed to be sunny all day?”
“I thought so, too.” The thick, tense silence rose once again, making it hard to breathe. If there had been enough room, you would have curled yourself up in a ball and cried. But you could do that when you get to...
“Where are we going?”
“My apartment. Just for now.”
“Ah, okay. Do you have any alcohol at your place?”
“Maybe some (.....)-ya left. Why?”
“So we can drink away our sadness.”
“I’m not much of a drinker.” A second silence covers the car.
“So I can drink away our sadness.”
“We’ll see when we get there.”
~~~
Your feet feel heavy as you walk into Law’s apartment. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside it. After the project was finished, you stopped coming over. Law’s busy schedule and your own just didn’t mix. Sometimes, you’d text him to check up on him and ask him how he was doing. He’d take hours or a day to respond, but you never held it against him. He always answered before it had been 48 hours, so it was okay with you.
Looking around his apartment, you see things that hadn’t been there before: some plants, many pictures on the wall, a TV, and some knickknacks you recognize that belong to (.....). The atmosphere was more welcoming than when you first visited Law’s apartment. If an apartment could feel like a hospital waiting room, then that’d be Law’s place before (.....) put her touch on it.
Placing your things near the couch, you take a deep breath as you rub your sternum to try and soothe the pain in your chest. All the pictures of Law and (.....) smiling happily nailed to the walls made your throat go dry. The images of your own apartment clouded your vision as you remembered your own photos with Eustass. Pictures of times when you did matching Halloween costumes, went to concerts together, relaxed at a beach together, or the two of you would just stay home. Every picture held a memory. 
A once cherished memory is now tainted by the image of betrayal. No amount of effort can make that image disappear. Even your happiest memories become blurry when you hear (.....) calling out Eustass's name. It ignites a fiery rage inside you, and seeing (.....)'s face everywhere makes you clench your teeth. You feel like tearing apart every picture of Law and (.....) just to remove her face from your sight. Every bone in your body screams at you to lose control. To destroy everything that reminds you of Eustass and (.....) until it is nothing but microscopic pieces.
But you weren’t home. The home you once had was now lost to time. For now, your ‘home’ depends on whether Law will allow you to stay the night for tonight.
“You can stay the night on the couch for tonight if you want. I have blankets in the closet over there.” You let out an internal breath of relief from Law, answering your question without being asked.
“Thank you, Law. Can I make you dinner or something? Just so I can repay your kindness?” You watch Law lean against the kitchen counter before crossing his arms. His eyes staring out into space.
“I haven’t gone shopping yet this week, so I don’t have much.”
“I’m sure I can craft up something.”
“If you want, then go ahead.” The sound of a ringtone brings a silence to the both of you. You check your phone and see the screen’s black.
“I think it’s yours.” Pulling out his phone from his pocket, you watch Law look at the screen. A frown crosses his face immediately, letting you know the caller. Letting out a heavy sigh, you watch him answer the phone.
“What do you want (.....)-ya?” While you couldn’t understand what she was saying, the tone of her voice was frantic. You could hear sobs coming from the other line. Hearing them pissed you off to hell and back. Didn’t (.....) have a shred of decency? How dare she plead and beg after she committed such an act?
You had to sit on the couch to calm yourself down just so you wouldn’t start screaming at (.....) through the phone. As soon as your body relaxed on the couch, a wave of soreness came over you. It feels as if you’ve been working out for hours on end and only now stopped. Even your eyelids felt heavy as you feel tears starting to form and blur your vision. Trying to breathe normally falls short as you begin to hyperventilate. Your lungs burn as you can feel your throat constricting. It feels like you're swallowing your heart just to keep yourself quiet.
“I meant what I said (.....)-ya. I’m breaking up with you, and that’s final. You can come get your things tomorrow afternoon.” Hearing Law’s voice helped soothe a part of your aching soul. Hearing something other than your own ragged breathing helped calm down the streams of tears that were flowing down your face.
“I’m done talking with you (.....)-ya. Goodbye.” The sound of Law’s calls ending made you rub your face, trying to hide the tears that plagued you seconds ago.
“Your more civil than I would have been. I probably wouldn’t have even picked up her call.” Your voice cracked as you tried to let out a small laugh.
“She was asking me for a ride. Apparently, her and Eustass got in a fight, and he threw her out in the rain.” Scoffing in disbelief, you turn your head to look at Law, hoping he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes.
“She asked you for a ride after cheating on you? Serves her right, getting thrown in the rain. Hope she gets a cold.” You can see Law’s body tremble and how he bites his lip. His eyes get glassy as he looks at the ceiling.
“Fucking a man.” Even from across the room, you can hear Law whispering to himself. You hated seeing him like this. Watching someone you care about hurt only adds to the pain you feel.
“Hey…do you wanna watch something to get our minds off them?”
“I should go back to work. They probably need me.” You let out a hum, hearing his words. A slight feeling of rejection crosses your mind, but you're quick to shake it off. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable. And if he was the type to work away his feelings, who were you to stop him?
“Well, drive safe. It sounds like the rain is hitting harder.” The sound of rain beating against the windows of Law’s apartment was finally acknowledged. Its beat almost matched Law’s own heartbeat as he thought about the phone call only minutes ago.
Hearing (.....)’s voice felt like nails on a chalkboard as she tried to explain what happened. The voice that once calmed his aching heart was now the reason it hurt. It was astonishing how fast his whole world flipped upside down. Earlier today, he couldn’t wait to come home and see (.....) and have her talk to him about her day. But now, instead of (.....) smiling at him, you were sitting on his couch with puffy eyes.
The way he could hear the tremble in your voice and how the light shined against the path of tears left on your face made his own wave of emotions try to surface. Even if he could tell you were trying hard to hold them back, he could see tears collect against your eyelashes. The sight had tears accumulating in his own eyes, making him look up at the ceiling to try and stop them. He didn’t need to show how bad (.....)’s betrayal has affected him. At least not in front of you.
Sure, you guys were going through the same thing together, but it wouldn’t help him or you if he let his own emotions out. It’d just be easier to shove them down, ignore them, and work until the pain left. He’s done it before, so he can do it again. 
“Um, Law?” Looking back down, he sees you standing in front of him. You refuse to meet his eyes as you fiddle with the bottom of your shirt.
“Yeah?”
“Can I hug you?” Law felt his heart skip a beat hearing your request. A part of him told himself no that he’d break down the moment you wrapped your arms around him. Yet, the voice of someone he used to know told him something different.
“Okay.” As soon as the words left his lips, he felt your body smushed up against his. Your arms held him in a tight embrace as the sound of your hushed sniffles made Law finally cave. Wrapping his own arms around you, a sense of comfort filled him. The feeling of being cared for once again was nice yet terrifying. As soon as the feeling would come, it’d leave just as fast.
But for now, he’ll indulge in your hold.
~~~
The blanket that wrapped around you did little to replicate Law’s hug. Sure, you were warm, but it wasn’t the same. It reminded you of how alone you were. You had no family in this city, and your only friends were (.....) and Law, but you wouldn’t count him as an option due to the current predicament. It felt like you were running in circles with every idea that popped into your head. Always leading to a dead end and making you start all over again.
You couldn’t go back home. It’d take you around three to four hours to drive there! Plus, you didn’t leave on a good note with your parents when you left for college. And if their last words to you were anything to go by, they didn’t want you back. You shake your head at the thought of your parents.
“No. No need to drag myself down even more thinking about them.” Slithering your hand out of your blanket cocoon, you grab your phone that was on your right. The black screen stared at you as it showed your reflection. Eyes red from tears earlier and a cut lip from biting on it so hard earlier.
A ding echoes across the empty apartment as the phone's black screen soon turns on. The quick flash makes your eyes burn before squinting to try and get used to the brightness. Once adjusted, you see a message from Law hiding in your notification bar.
-“I need a favor from you.”
-“Sure, what ya need?”
-“(.....)-ya is supposed to be getting her things this morning. I want you to make sure she takes everything and leaves her key in the dish by the door.”
A frown skims across your face as the thought of seeing (.....)’s face makes your stomach churn. It’s only been a day, and you're already forced to see her face? At the same time, Law did allow you to stay the night last night. So, despite your distaste for seeing (.....), you agreed.
-“Will do. Can count on me :)”
-“Thanks.”
-“How’s working going so far?”
-“Fine.”
-“That's good”
The urge to ask him what his plans were with you after you did him this favor ate at your conscience as soon as you sent that last text. Law was really the only one whose place you felt safe enough to sleep at. And he’s the only person you have in the entire city. You didn’t have a license since a lot of things were always within walking distance, so you never had a reason to. 
But now, you were on the complete other side of the city. What used to be a five-minute walk to your job now would take at least thirty minutes. You had no idea where anything was on this side of the city. Sure, you and Law would go grab an energy drink from the gas station when the two of you worked the night away on that old project, but that was two years ago. Who knows? Maybe that gas station doesn’t even exist anymore!
“Do you go here a lot?”
“To buy an energy drink and coffee every now and then.” The sound of small pebbles crunching under your and Law’s shoes goes unnoticed as you walk next to him.
“Okay, so every day then?” A laugh escapes your lips as Law rolls his eyes, yet a small smile plays against his lips.
“This gas station is the only place that sells my favorite one.”
“Which is?”
“Can’t tell you. What if you take it?” A smirk appears on his lips as he puts his hands in his pockets. Scoffing, you place your hand on your chest in fake offense.
“I can’t believe you’d think so lowly of me. Stealing your beloved drink? Only a monster could be so heartless!” Hearing Law let out a chuckle from your words made a heavy feeling of confidence run through your veins. He was always relatively quiet when in class, so it was nice to see him show emotion other than ‘bored.’
“How much farther? I’m dying to know the favorite drink of the future best doctor in the world.” A faint pink tints Law’s skin as he tries to look away from you, hoping you don’t see what your comment did to him.
“You really think so?” Despite trying to copy your playful tone, you can hear his self-doubt and hopefulness that your words were true.
“I know so! No one works harder than you! If anyone says otherwise, tell me and I’ll kick their ass.” Law could feel his palms grow sweaty, and his heart beat a little faster. 
Sure, he’s gotten praise from his teacher, but hearing it come from someone he had just met and barely knew felt a little more sincere? Why, he didn’t know, but he won’t complain.
“Will do.”
KNOCK KNOCK
The sound of light knowing pulls you from your memories. Looking up at the clock, you see it’s nearly three pm. You sigh as you shed the multiple layers of blankets you were snuggled in. The rage and anger from yesterday are still strong in your system, making you clench your fists. You walk towards the door when you hear your fingers popping from the sheer force. Unlocking it, you take a deep breath before fully opening it.
In front of you stood a very unkempt (.....). Her hair was in a messy ponytail, accompanied by red eyes and a red face. Makeup from the night before was still applied to her skin as mascara streaked down her face. Your eyes even caught the barely covered hickeys and bite marks that shined through her concealer.
“(Y-Y/N)?...Why are you…Where’s Law?” Her pitiful voice made you squeeze the doorknob tighter to try and calm yourself.
“He’s at work. Not that it’s any of your business, but he was kind enough to let me spend the night.” Your eyes narrowed at her as you couldn’t help but glare daggers at the marks on her neck. Noticing your stare, (.....) moved her shoulder to cover her neck.
“I see…” You move to let her in and shut the door behind her. She lets out a shaky breath before beginning to take down the multiple pictures hanging along the wall. The sound of sniffles hits your ears as you watch her grab the frames with shaky hands. Listening to her hold back tears made you struggle to hold your own.
How could she have done this? Years of friendship only to throw it away for some dick? Did you mean so little to her? You’ve been with her for everything! Breakups, grandparents passing, getting in trouble together, anything and everything you’ve done for her! If she needed a kidney transplant, you would’ve volunteered right away!
Now, seeing how a friendship can easily be thrown away like trash after years made bitterness fill your heart. If your best friend and boyfriend could betray you without so much of a second thought, what does that say about the strangers all around you?
What does that say about you? Did you do something to deserve this? Was (.....) mad at you and thought fucking your lover would get back at you? There had to be a reason. To be an explanation for the horror you saw yesterday. Maybe after a drink or two after (.....) leaves will calm you down.
~~~
“You got everything?”
“Yeah.” Just as she was about to walk out the door, you remembered that she still hadn't given you the key.
“I need the apartment key.” Putting your hand out, you move your eyes to your hand and back at her.
“I-I don’t have it.” Furrowing your brows, you sigh.
“Don’t bullshit me. I’ve known you for years, and I know when you lie. Now give me the goddamn keys (.....).” You watch (.....) bite her lip before digging into her jacket pocket. The light shined off the key as she gently put it in your hands.
“Can you say goodbye to Bepo for me?” Confusion hit you like a train at her request.
“What the hell are-you know what? Fine. I’ll say bye.”
“Thanks.” Closing the door, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. After locking the door behind her, you placed her old key in the dish Law has near the door for his keys. (.....) request puzzled you as you tried to think of what she was talking about.
“What the hell is a Bepo?”
Just then, a light pitter-patter echos in the apartment. Your heart stops as the sound gets closer. There shouldn’t be anyone else in the apartment but you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you try to move quietly towards the kitchen to grab something to defend yourself.
“Meow!” You stop in your tracks upon hearing that noise. Embarrassment floods your body as you move even closer to the noise. Upon turning the corner, you see a white cat walking in your direction. A big white cat.
“Can’t believe I got spooked by a damn cat. Didn’t even know Law had a cat…a fatass one nonetheless.” Bending down, you move your hand to let the cat smell you. A smile appears on your face when it rubs against you.
“Hmm? What’s this?” Moving the fluff from his neck, you see a collar with a tag. Squinting your eyes, you finally see the name engraved on the tag.
“Ohhh…your Bepo! Well, aren’t you a cutie-pie?” With (.....) 's request finally making sense, you fight to actually fulfill it. With a sigh, you pick up Bepo and hold him gently. 
“Let’s send your dad a selfie. I think he’ll appreciate it.” You go to the couch, pick up your phone, and find the right angle for the picture. When you find the right spot, you smile as Bepo rubs his head against your face.
“Say cheese!”
~~~
It’d been a long day at the hospital. It felt like nothing went right. Sure, he put in his all, but he had to tell people how they were diagnosed with a terminal illness or dealing with dumb co-workers. The only good thing today did for him was keep (.....) out of his head. But now that work was over, the nagging thoughts could finally bother him once more.
Sighing as he unlocked his apartment door, he was immediately hit with the smell of something cooking. Whatever it was, it smelled good, and he was happy that he didn’t have to make anything tonight. When he went to put his keys in the dish designated for them, he saw (.....)’s key lying in the middle. A wave of relief washed over him as he finished taking off his shoes and coat.
“Oh, Law, are you home?” Your voice rings in his ears as he walks further into his apartment. He spots you setting up the table while humming to yourself.
“Yeah, I’m back. Did you make something?”
“Well, you’ve been at work for sixteen hours, so obviously, you should be hungry! Not to mention that you deserved a home-cooked meal after working so hard.” Moving closer to the dinner table, he sees a plate of grilled fish along with a can of what looks to be sparkling water. The smell of his favorite food drew him closer, and he felt a sense of calm filled him. It’d be the second night in a row you made him dinner.
“Where did you get the fish? I don’t remember having any?”
“Oh, after (.....) took her stuff and left, I used GPS to find a store nearby, and there was an organic type of food store only two blocks away! So I went shopping and got things! Except for beverages, so I stopped by the gas station we used to go to and got sparkling water 'cause you don’t drink and no way you’d drink an energy boost at eight pm.” You continued talking, but it was lost on Law’s ears as he stared at the set-up table. The fact you put yourself to go grocery shopping and making him dinner made his sour mood from only moments ago lighten.
“Thank you.” As he moves to wash his hands in the sink, he sees his beloved cat following you and purring.
“I see you’ve met Bepo.” Upon speaking, the cat changed his attention to Law. Bepo begins to meow as he prances towards Law’s feet before rubbing against them. Leaning down, Law gives him a few pets before washing his hands.
“I didn’t even know you had a cat. Did you just get him?”
“No. I’ve had him for almost a year and a half. Why?” He watches you lift your eyebrows and look at Bepo before looking back at Law.
“What?”
“Law. Do you see how big that cat is?” Despite just washing his hands, Law picks up Bepo and holds him in his arms.
“What about it? He’s growing.”
“That cat is obese. He needs a diet.”
“Bepo is perfect the way he is.” You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched him hold Bepo protectively and away from you.
“You can be delusional all you want, but come eat before the food gets cold.” Turning your back, you begin to dish up after washing your hands. You can hear Law rewashing his own before sitting on the opposite side of the table.
As awkward as it may be, the presence of one another brings a slight calm to your new chaotic world.
~~~
TAGLIST: @yuki190 @stachelrose @loraleiii @axcel-lucci @st4rfevrr @rexspersonalhell @nanapurinpurin @elen-alambil @starlightkitten19 @bby-deerling @queenofthekill @chaes-tea @emmaiscool22 @shuujin @augustanna @likeliterallywtf @iraaiitz @cherrybomb5000 @lavenderkaye106 @jabean @wrennyx @jamaicaa-blakee @ashortdork @kat2tired @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @getsue @kaptain-rebekah @reigenmagnet @rebeccawinters @keenzinemugstudent @mydearlybeloathed @firefistussy @throne-inmyside @littleleelee @thepurpleempath @yuji4lierrr @whodissbitj @slut-for-buck i hope i got everyone and if i didn't im sorry. I tried writing everyone's names
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sluttywoozi · 7 months
Text
Morning Glow | Daydreaming Part III
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Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.0k
Summary: You should have known you were telling on yourself by begging Seonghwa to just fuck you without opening you up first.
Part I | Part II
Warnings: pwp, talk of f. masturbation, kissing, praise kink, dirty talk, fingering, hand kink ? idk, multiple orgasms, oral f. rec., squirting, size kink, big dick hwa, dacryphilia, soft sex, creampie
Reader Notes: cums easily, wap, size queen, has longish nails, gets emo (my bad)
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You blink awake to soft sunlight and a sleeping Seonghwa. You’re laying on your stomach, the sheet low on your hips and his arm draped over your waist, and you’re almost annoyed to discover he looks even more angelic in the cool morning rays. His eyes are closed gently and his face is smoothed out, though a small smile quirks up the corners of his plush lips. 
You test your legs, tightening your thigh muscles and letting out a quiet hum when you realize you’re not very sore at all. He fucked you hard last night, bent you in ways you didn’t know you could bend, and you expected to have to army crawl to the bathroom. 
Instead, you can inch away, slide out from under his arm and off the bed. You tiptoe to the ensuite, flicking on the light and closing the door as softly as you can before going about your business and brushing your teeth. You still feel giddy putting your toothbrush back into the jar next to his, though you started keeping one here months ago. 
You turn off the light and open the door slowly, peeking out to see if Seonghwa is still sleeping. He’s lying in the same position, his back to the door and his arm stretched out over where you were, but when the door squeaks, he lifts his head and turns to you.
You grin at him, nearly skipping back to your side of the bed before climbing in and snuggling under his arm and the sheets. “Hi, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips and tasting your fresh breath. He pulls away, grimacing and covering his mouth as he rolls to the edge of the bed. 
“What’s wrong?” You ask, staring at him in bewilderment while he all but runs to the bathroom. 
“I’m brushing my teeth!” He calls from the bathroom, his words garbled but intelligible. You inspect your nails as you wait for him to spit and rinse, noting absentmindedly that you deserve a manicure. 
“I don’t wanna kiss you with a gross mouth,” he explains as he jumps back into bed, the mattress bouncing with his added weight. He wiggles in close, laying his arm over you again and kissing you with minty lips. 
You see an idea light up his brain, something like a realization sweeping across his face, and you don’t know whether to inch closer or back away. The last time he looked like this, he started calling you a good girl and praising you for doing the bare minimum. 
“So, it seems you know what you like when it comes to sex. What else have you discovered?” Seonghwa asks, his fingers slowly walking up and down your spine. 
“Well,” you stall, nervous to be so open with him. You should have known you were telling on yourself by begging him to just fuck you without opening you up first. “I can cum five or six times in, like, half an hour, even with nothing inside.” 
He takes in a deep, measured breath, his eyelids fluttering gently like your words touched him viscerally. 
“Of course, I like it better with something big to squeeze down on-“
“I noticed,” He smirks, his fingertips digging into a knot just under your shoulder blade as if in revenge. You wince, wiggling away from his touch before forcing yourself to stay still and let him work. 
“Also, I can squirt.”
Seonghwa freezes, his gaze suddenly locked onto yours and burning with the same fire you saw last night. 
“Show me. Please.” 
“I don’t have my vibrator.” That’s not the only thing stopping you. You’ve never touched yourself in front of anyone before, and this is Seonghwa, and you’re scared you’ll feel too self conscious to even orgasm at all. 
Thankfully, he doesn’t push. He just sighs, deflating a little before perking up again and asking, “If you’re not too sore, can I try to make you squirt? You didn’t yesterday, and you didn’t cum five times either.”
“You can try, but don’t feel like you have to compete with me. I’ve been touching myself a lot longer than you have.”
His full lips spread in a wry smile, a smile you soon feel pressed against yours in a soft kiss. It doesn’t stay soft for long, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue soothes the sting. 
“That just means I’ve got a lot of time to make up for,” he exhales as he braces himself over your body. “Can you get on your back, baby?”
You listen, twisting around beneath him until your breasts brush his chest and you can feel his cock stir. He’s big even though he’s barely hard, and you swallow the moan that suddenly coats your tongue at the thought of him fitting inside you. 
His lips cover yours one, two, three times more before he drags them over your jaw and down your neck, sinking his teeth into whatever spots strike his fancy. His mouth catches on your left nipple, his tongue laving over the bud as he purses his lips and sucks. He doesn’t neglect the other side, his fingers rolling and plucking at your right nipple as he takes long, deep pulls of the left. 
You moan and so does Seonghwa, like he feels the sparks down his spine and the throbbing between his legs too, and when his dick twitches against your thigh, you think he might. You wonder if you could cum just from this, just from his mouth and fingers on your tits, and decide to save that for a rainy day. You’re sure Seonghwa will be all too eager to participate in your plans. 
His mouth replaces his fingers, his now free right hand sliding down your body and cupping your center, the groan that vibrates over your skin making you gasp. You must be wet, you feel like you are, and Seonghwa’s fingers glide as they trace from your entrance to your clit and back again, exploring for minutes that feel like hours. 
You try to be patient, try not to arch into his mouth or push into his hand, but it’s difficult when he’s touching you so softly you can barely feel it. It’s only when he dips a fingertip inside that you finally whine and let your hips buck, your pussy sucking his finger in deeper and deeper until his knuckles bump against you. 
“Impatient,” he chuckles lowly, pulling off your nipple and shuffling down your body before pushing your legs up and apart.
“Can you keep your thighs open for me? If it starts to hurt, we can put you on your stomach.”
You nod, hooking your hands under your knees and feeling exposed in the morning light. You don’t have time to be shy as Seonghwa pulls his finger out and sinks two inside on the next stroke, curling them up and searching for your g-spot. You’ve found it before on your own, that’s how you made yourself squirt, and you know it’s only a matter of time before Seonghwa finds it too. 
Seconds later, his fingers graze over the patch of nerves inside you and a sharp gasp escapes, your pussy clenching down and your eyes squeezing shut. He hums, tapping the pads of his fingers into it once before retreating. 
He builds the pace slowly, sliding his fingers in and out and just barely rubbing into your g-spot. You want him to go faster but it’s also luxurious to feel someone else do this to you for once, to just lay back and let your inhibitions slip away as he works you up. 
His fingers are longer than yours too, not much thicker because his hands are so beautiful and delicate, but they’re able to really press into your g-spot and grind. It’s a feeling you almost don’t know how to handle, a pressure deep inside that grows and grows and grows until it breaks like a wave, your back bowing and your voice high as you keen your way through an orgasm. 
Neither you nor Seonghwa expected it to happen so fast, but you won’t complain and it’s obvious he won’t either, his face slack with awe while he watches your entrance cinch and loosen around his crooked fingers. 
He doesn’t let up, instead he lowers his mouth to you and laps at your clit, his tongue soft and hot and perfect against you. You feel a third finger press inside, the slight stretch of your walls delicious, like a taste of what you felt with Seonghwa’s dick inside of you. Thinking about that feeling has you shivering, has your pussy fluttering, has your clit throbbing, and when he spreads his fingers apart, you can’t hold in the whine. 
Seonghwa responds with a groan, the vibrations of it traveling through your clit and straight into your core. It doesn’t take more than that for you to cum again, your cunt leaking around his digits and your nails digging so hard into your thighs you fear you’ll break the skin. 
“So good, baby, just like that,” he mumbles into you, puckering his lips around your clit and sucking, drawing your orgasm out so long you start to shake. 
“Should I keep going?” He pulls away to ask, slightly concerned as he eyes the way your thighs tremble. 
“Yeah, I can take more,” you assure him breathlessly, staring down at the picture he makes. His hair is tousled, his eyes half lidded and blazing, and his lips are swollen, red, wet with your arousal. He looks so handsome you could cry, and as he wraps those luscious lips around your clit again, you honestly think you might. 
Tears start to dampen your lashes as you take in a deep, shuddering breath, his fingers pressed tight to your g-spot and his mouth searing hot on you. It’s inescapable, the pleasure, and so unbelievably different with his touch rather than yours. You can’t anticipate what he’ll do, how he’ll touch you, what he’ll say. Everything is a surprise and the excitement just heightens your senses, makes every touch feel like the first. 
You wish he was your first, but you’ll be happy with him being your last instead. 
You can’t imagine anyone else making you feel like this, anyone else handling you with such care and passion. You can’t imagine anyone else, period. Seonghwa is it for you, and at that revelation, you fall apart again. 
His thumb replaces his mouth on your clit so he can lap at your stretched entrance, his wrist tilting down, spreading you open even further so his tongue can delve inside along with his fingers. Your pussy feels so full but now your head feels empty, devoid of all thoughts beyond Seonghwa Seonghwa Seonghwa. 
That’s all you can say too, just whimpers of his name in between gasping breaths and weak cries, tears bubbling over and spilling down your cheeks as he presses down harder with his thumb. 
You fall into a daze, your hearing muffled and your vision dotted with stars, when he makes you cum for the fourth time. The sea of bliss is hard to swim through so you just try to stay afloat, try to keep breathing and keep holding your legs up, try to listen to Seonghwa as he pulls his tongue out to speak filth into you. 
“My pretty girl, so beautiful when you cry for me. I bet your tears taste almost as good as your perfect little cunt. Want one more?”
You don’t know if he’s talking about fingers or orgasms, but the answer is an affirmative either way, so you nod frantically and push out, “Yes, Hwa, please,” knowing he’ll tell you to use your words. 
He rewards you by tucking his pinky inside on the next stroke, fucking you open with four of his fingers and digging them into your g-spot with every thrust. All you can do is whine feebly, feeling something starting to build deep in your pelvis as his thumb speeds up on your clit and his fingertips grind into you. 
“Seonghwa! I’m gonna, I-I’m,” a wail interrupts your warning, but Seonghwa must get it because he doesn’t change anything, just lowers his mouth to you and breathes, “Gonna squirt, huh? Gonna get me all wet with you? I wanna be fucking drenched, baby.”
That’s what gets you, hearing just how bad he wants it, and you feel the dam inside of you break, your wetness flooding out around his fingers in spurts. He groans so deep you can feel it in your stomach, his lips touching his fingers as he presses his open mouth to you, catching as much of your arousal on his tongue as he can. 
You can’t stop clenching, can’t stop crying, your cheeks just as wet as your pussy, and you feel him switch back into doting boyfriend mode when you let out a pitiful little sob. 
He’s wiping his face off on the sheets in no time, rising to hold himself above you with his left hand and leaving his right between your legs to keep you full. He coos quietly, dotting kisses all over your face and sucking away your tears before whispering, “You okay, baby?”
You try to nod but you can’t really move, your body not cooperating with your brain as it slowly comes back online. You manage a shaky, “Mhm,” and attempt to release your thighs, wincing as they fall back to the bed. Your hands are numb, your hips aching, but you can still feel yourself throbbing around his fingers, desperate for something thicker, longer, harder. 
“Will you fuck me?” 
He narrows his eyes at you, prods your g-spot one last time, and pulls away. Your face crumples and he rushes to soothe you, cleaning off his pruney fingers and cupping your face with both hands. 
“I just don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”
“You won’t! Not in a way I don’t like, at least.” Seonghwa arches a brow at your words, something in his gaze telling you he’s filed that little tidbit away for later, but agrees with a sigh. 
“Let’s get you comfy, then, hm?” 
You still feel weighed down to the bed so he moves you himself, rolling you onto your stomach and pulling you up on your knees so he can slide a pillow beneath your hips. He straddles your thighs, pushing your asscheeks apart with both hands and letting his cock skim your folds, the head bumping against your clit in a way that makes you jump. 
“Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you.”
You feel your muscles untense one by one until you’ve melted into the bed, pillowing your head with your arms and tilting your hips up to give him better access. 
“That’s it,” he breathes, gripping his dick with one hand and lining himself up before starting to press inside. There’s not as much of a stretch as there was last night, but he still feels better than any of your dildos. He’s longer, thicker, hotter, and, best of all, he’s Seonghwa. The man you love, the man you trust, the man whose cock absolutely does not match his frame. 
You feel thankful, blessed, to have met him. The way he sinks into you is sheer perfection, his dick so big it fills your weeping pussy to the brim and then fills it some more, the angle allowing him to root himself all the way inside you. He shivers above you, his fingers spasming on your ass before they dig in deep, and he pulls his hips away slowly, pausing with just a few inches left to spare. 
You expect him to snap forward, to plunge back into you, but he softens his grip instead, bends to hover over you with his hands braced on either side of your head. His chest brushes against the sensitive skin of your back and you move your hands to cover his. He tangles your fingers together, lays a soft kiss on your shoulder, and pushes inside of you. 
He slides in just as slowly as he slipped out, and part of you wants him to go faster, to fuck you like he did last night, but the rest of you thinks it might be nice to be treated delicately, like someone to be treasured, to be held. 
And that’s how you feel, you feel held by him. Tears burn in your throat again and you let them well up, let them puddle beneath your turned head. Seonghwa leans in, kisses your shining cheekbone, and rests his head against yours. You feel more than hear him say, “I love you,” his bedroom silent but for the whirring fan and your pounding heart. 
“I love you,” you whisper, gasping as he grinds into you and turns to press his face against your spine. Rolling his hips into yours again, he starts to speak quietly, “Move in with me. I know I shouldn’t a-ask you now, like this, but I just, fuck, I just want you around all the time.”
“I want to wake up with you every day, and go to sleep with you every night. I m-shit, might’ve already cleared out some space, but you don’t have to answer now, and I won’t be upset if you say no.”
It takes you hardly any time to mull it over. Logistically, it checks out. Seonghwa lives closer to campus than you do, your lease is up this month, and he has a spare room that’s only half filled with legos so you can still have a bit of your own space. Emotionally, you adore Seonghwa and yearn to be near him at all times. Moving in with him would be a dream. 
You’re proud of yourself for even thinking it through while he’s still moving inside of you, all of the veins on his thick cock rubbing against your walls in the absolute best way. You’re even more proud of yourself for gathering your voice enough to answer him with more than a sob. 
“Of course I will, Seonghwa. I’ll literally move in t-tomorrow if you want.” 
You can feel his teeth press against you, and you know he must be grinning, beaming, and suddenly, you wish you could see him. 
“Hwa, can I flip over?”
He hums his yes, gently freeing one hand from yours and using it to hold the base of his cock as he pulls out of you. You wriggle around as gracefully as you can, widening your legs just enough for his waist to fit and sighing as he fills you again, your hips still propped up by the pillow. 
The angle is immaculate, especially when he starts to pull further away, dipping up to graze your g-spot on his way in and out. He leans in to kiss you and you melt into him immediately, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck as he pushes into you over and over, your lips opening on a gasp. 
He sucks your tongue into his mouth, gentleness giving way to filthiness just like with his hips. You’re still getting wetter, somehow, though your walls hug his cock every time he pulls back like you don’t want him to leave. You wish you could stay like this forever, stay wrapped around him, stay connected with him, but you’ll settle for getting to live with him. 
You rock together, the movement of his hips as constant as the tide, while he kisses you breathless. The remaining thoughts in your head start to slip away and soon, you can barely even concentrate enough to kiss him back. It’s too difficult to participate when he just keeps filling you, just keeps grinding against all the sensitive spots deep inside, just keeps throbbing and twitching and leaking inside of you. 
“Getting close,” he murmurs against your lips, “Can you cum again?”
You’re honestly not sure but it’s worth a try, so you nod and do your best not to dig your nails into the back of his neck when he works a hand between your thighs and sets his fingers on your swollen little clit. He’s gentle, just barely swirling the pads of his fingers over the aching bundle of nerves, but it’ll be enough. 
You know it will be, because you can feel the coil starting to tighten in your stomach, feel your pussy get tighter around him, feel the way your heart skips a beat before galloping away. He grows inside you, his cock hardening further, just before he groans brokenly into your mouth and breaks. 
He collapses further, laying himself out over you and pressing you into the bed as his balls empty inside of your spasming cunt. Hot streams of cum paint your walls, the jerking of his dick and the feeling of him flooding you pushing you over the edge into one final dizzying, blinding, life-changing orgasm. 
It steals your breath, robs you of the ability to think, speak, move. You drift for who knows how long, the only thing anchoring you to this world being the weight of his body on top of you. He pets your hair, whispers sweet words of love and devotion to you as you slowly come back to yourself. 
“Love you so much, baby.”
“Did so well for me, pretty girl.”
“Anything you want, anything you need, I’ll give it to you.”
His love seeps into your skin like sunlight, warms you from the inside out, makes you feel so bright, you could shine. 
When his cock fully softens inside of you, he slips out slowly, covering your cunt with his palm to keep his cum from dripping out. You jump at the feeling, your pussy tender and oversensitive, and he hums an apology, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb as he disentangles himself from you. 
You feel the loss immediately, though he doesn’t go far. Just to the ensuite to turn the tub faucet on, it seems, and you relax again at the sight of him padding back into the bedroom, naked as the day he was born. 
He sits on the edge of the bed and gazes at you, sighing a bone deep, satisfied sigh before smiling gently and saying, “I had a little, um, daydream last night, about eating you out and tucking you in and watching your favorite movies and ordering your favorite takeout. I already got to eat you out, and now I get to do the rest. I’m so lucky.”
He almost sounds embarrassed telling you this, and you feel so fond of him, you could die. Before you can respond, he continues speaking, like he’s in a rush to move on. 
“Let’s get you into the tub, it should be nearly full by now.” 
You scooch to the edge of the bed, standing on legs that shake like a fawn’s and making your way (with Seonghwa’s help) to the bathroom. He leaves you to grab towels and pajamas, but you can manage from here. You haven’t had sex without a condom with anyone other than Seonghwa but you know you should pee after to avoid a UTI, so you take care of that business and sit for a little bit longer to let the cum drip out of you. 
It’s an odd feeling, emptiness where there was once such fullness, even though you’re aware that’s your usual state. You just feel more whole when he’s inside you, like all your sharp edges are rounded out and all your fractures are filled in. 
Seonghwa returns after you flush, holding your arms as you climb into the steaming tub and settling in behind you when you reach for him. He wraps his arms around you, taking both of your hands and pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder when you squeeze his fingers. 
“Love you,” you murmur, your words blending together in your lethargy.
“Love you too,” he mumbles into your neck, his voice low and drowsy. 
You’re asleep before either of you can speak another word. 
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AN: for @whatudowhennooneseesyou wowowow this one took me so many months to start and like two days to finish! it's been almost a year to the day since i posted Daydreaming and I never planned on writing another part, let alone two, but here we are! if you can't tell, i love and adore Seonghwa and also want him in ways that are concerning to feminism like i DESIRE this man carnally, emotionally, physically, metaphysically, metaphorically, theoretically, all of the lly's
come scream with me about this fic or about seonghwa or ateez or kpop or anything! i love to interact!
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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year
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can we have a headcannon of y/n (female) thats throwing dark humour around everytime and have 141 + Rudy, Alejandro nd konig react to her lmao 🤣
Can we have that? 💜 Thank you
Girl. Literally me. (I give my coworkers whiplash but they dish it pretty good too lmao)
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
Might actually get a decent laugh out of him, we’ve all heard his horrendous hilarious jokes, so we all know he can dish it, but can he take it? Depends on the type of humor
If it’s self-depreciating, probably not. Doesn’t really get it? Like he does but he sees you too positively for the humor to click.
Unalive jokes? Definitely not. Hates hearing it from you even if you’re laughing about it, so if you want to make them, you better be cheeky about it (“Head down, sergeant you’ll get spotted.” “Aw sweet, you think so?” You don’t have to be near him or even see him to feel his glare)
Jokes about your traumas? Not super keen on it but if you’re at a point in your life that you feel ok enough to laugh about it, he’s not one to take wind out of your sails (“Damn, this drink hits harder than my dad.” “Sweetheart. Please.”
But if your jokes are similar to his, then your chances of getting a laugh out of him went up exponentially (he thinks he’s so god damn funny and he’s right. king.)
“How do you turn a salad into a Cesar salad?”
“How?”
“Stab it 23 times.” Soap audibly groaned,
“That’s my girl.”
All in all, you’ll get a deep sigh with pinching the bridge of his nose for every joke you make, and maybe you’ll get a pretty laugh from him (god I bet his laugh is so nice 😭)
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
(laughs nervously) what the fuck?
He’s heard Ghost’s jokes firsthand, so the dark humor isn’t new to him. He might even laugh with you and crack a few of his own
Honestly, as long you’re having a laugh he’s not really that worried (still a little worried tho)
He trusts that if you’re feeling particularly bad about something, you’d talk to him about it and he’s here for that
He kind of enjoys the theatre of it, the dramatic reactions to something so seemingly mundane,
“So when are you gonna take me out?”
“To dinner? We just ate, bonnie.”
“… not what I meant but I love where your heads at.”
“Not in a million years.” He laughs kissing your temple and squeezing you against him
“So you’re saying there’s a chance? It’s just a matter of when, got it. Thanks babe, I owe you”
John Price:
He’s not thrilled about it but he’s worked with Ghost so he’s somewhat built a tolerance
He knows you sometimes use dark humor as a coping mechanism but he’ll tease you saying you should come with a warning label
He’s definitely choked at hearing some of the things come out of your mouth, at least the jokes relating to your own traumas, those always give him whiplash
He finds your situational dark humor much funnier than anything you might say that involves you being harmed, even if it is a joke that’s kind a nightmare scenario for him
Those will definitely get a chuckle out of him, just please stop making jokes about yourself, he loves you a little too much to stomach them
“What does my dad have in common with Nemo?” He refuses to answer, he knows, he fucking knows
“They both can’t be found.”
God damn it, sweetheart
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:
He’ll join you for sure lmao
He’ll see you sparring on the mats with Soap and he sees you land a particularly rough kick that he managed to block
“Damn babe, that was clean. Now do it right here.” He’s pointing at his temple, you laugh and throw your sweaty towel at him
You’re out on recon and you’re making your way towards the targeted area,
“I’d be terrible if I was discovered, sure hope there aren’t any snipers to take me out. That’d be awful.”
Price groaned even as Kyle stifled a chuckle,
“Come on, love, we’re a bit too good to let that happen to you.”
“That’s the real tragedy, honestly.”
“Enough, you two.”
König:
He thinks you’re funny but low key a little worried at how easily the jokes come to you
But if you’re laughing and having a good time, then so is he!
Sometimes you really do say some crazy things and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or to hug you
He likes the jokes that have nothing to do with you much better, you’d be sitting at a briefing in the far corner when you lean in and whisper quietly,
“Köni, what’s red and bad for your teeth?”
“Hm?”
“A brick.”
He stifles a laugh and shakes his head, you can see the corners of his eyes crinkle as he tries to hide the smile.
Alejandro Vargas:
Honestly, he kind of gives me the vibe of “telling a joke becomes receiving a lecture”
Like you’ll make a joke and look at him and he’s deadpanned,
“Mi amor, that’s no laughing matter.” And then he goes into a full lecture about why what you said was out of pocket and a little hurtful
It’s not that he doesn’t understand the humor he’s just concerned
But, he prefers the goofier jokes I feel like,
“An apple a day keeps the doctor away, or at least it does if you throw it hard enough.”
“Mensa.” He pushes your shoulder playfully with a laugh.
Dumb jokes like that get a good laugh out of him, just don’t make them about you please he loves you so much and he will lecture you
Rodolfo Parra:
Mortified in Spanish
“Mi vida, please don’t make those jokes.”
They break his poor little heart :( he loves you so much it makes him sad to hear make such harsh jokes about yourself or even see such awful things
He sighs every time he hears one of your jokes and gives this look 🥺
He doesn’t like that you joke about yourself or the things that have happened to you like that
He understands that humor is sometimes a coping mechanism, but he’d much rather talk through the things you’re joking about
He just cares about you so god damn MUCH
But if they’re nonsensical, then he’ll chuckle quietly,
“You don’t need a parachute to go skydiving.”
“What? Amor you definitely-”
“You need a parachute to go skydiving twice.”
“Dios mío, amor.” He chuckles.
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