#I KNOW what I'm feeling I just can't describe it without entering a long winded explanation of some unforgettable forgettable Tuesday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writingworda · 10 months

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Ok I haven't made a post here in a very long time because I haven't wrote anything in a very long time.

So since I'm posting again that means I've written something, write? No of course not.

Instead I took a retrospective look at one of my oldest writings called "Tellings of the Sky." And OH BOY I don't know wtf I was on.

Lemme get an image for you. So the base setting is kinda like one of them liminal spaces. I've got two characters, each in separate worlds that are similar except for one thing, the sky.

First there's a boy in an empty world with no other conscious life. The earth itself didn't even have color, it was in black and white. The sky itself behaved erratically, it would change shape, the sky itself would form different patterns and complex structures for inexplicable reasons. Think of like a 4 dimensional space somehow being observed, it's just weird as fuck.

The sky at night for him was different, it was pitch black with a bright white stripe cutting across it, and a small black dot traveling across it, from one point of the horizon to the other. White cracks would branch out from the stripe, and they varied from night to night

In the other world it was also empty of conscious life and devoid of color. However there was a single girl inhabiting the world, and her day was the exact same as the first world's night, however without the cracks. However her night was instead a blank white sky with cracks running across it, an amount and intensity of cracks that would change each night.

So the parallels here are the night of the first and day of the second, cracks during the night specifically, and that the worlds they inhabit are the exact same except for the presentation of the sky.

The story follows these two and how they interact with the world around them, mainly focusing on how they feel internally.

The boy is very focused on exploring the world around him. He never says it outright, but he's scared of his lack of awareness about the situation he's in, how he woke up to this world with no knowledge of a different existence. He has a strange connection to the day time sky in which, based on the form of the sky, he understands that he can sense what it is feeling. As for his relationship with the nighttime sky, there's a pattern that whenever it turns night he kind of shuts down, unable and unwilling to do anything or move. He entered a state of lethargy and a lack of motivation that he could not break out of, but at the same time he couldn't sleep, and rather has a light sense a paranoia throughout the night. Another thing is that he believes the sky is telling him to go somewhere, so as he explores the world around him he's always heading in the direction it's telling him.

The girl on the other hand hates her day time sky. She hates how blank it is, she describes it as a feeling like it's always watching her. She also decides to explore her world, however she doesn't have the same insecurity about a lack of understanding. Instead she's driven by the a sensation that there's something or someone she needs to find/catch up to. She finds herself constantly distracted by the details of the world and gets frustrated by the fact she feels she'll never reach her goal, not because of the impossibility of it but rather that she thinks she keeps getting in her own way. She finds a lot of comfort in the night sky, she interacts with it similar to how the boy in world one interacts with his daytime sky, she made a friend out of it. Her ability to understand the sky's feelings comes out of how many, how intense, and how bright the cracks in the sky are.

Another tidbit is that the girl finds herself often hyperfixated on screens. Throughout the world there's almost no movement besides the wind and tides, however every screen she comes across is covered with static, and emits a light hum. For a reason she can't explain, she finds solace in these screens, they take away her paranoia during the day and make her feel secure until the nighttime.

The extra bit for the boy is that he has no agency or control when it comes to the world around him. At some point he accidentally cuts himself, but the wound disappears almost immediately. Not in a sense of healing, but in resetting. After discovering this he decides to indulge in this phenomenon, coming to understand that anything he breaks, changes, or fixes, will only reset to the way it was moments later, including himself.

In his world, the screens are blank. In her world, changes are permanent.

These two characters have a little narration in the third person at the beginning and end of their chapters, but everything else is written in a journal like style, as a journal with seemingly endless pages and a pen with seemingly endless ink is all they had when they woke up, the only things that had color besides themselves and the clothes on their back.

The idea is the chapters would alternate between the two perspectives, until eventually the journals start relaying their writings to eachother. As in when one writes in their journal, it would appear in the other person's journal as well. The two would come to understand more about their worlds when talking to eachother, and slowly as they interacted with eachother more they lose their ability to sense the emotions of the sky. The ending is the apocalyptic merging of the two worlds, as their idea of what the world is starts to neutralize, effectively ending the two worlds and leaving both of them, finally meeting face to face, in a single world.

This final world of theirs has the daytime sky of the first world, the nighttime sky of the second, and now the sky has color. The tv screens have all shut off, and changes are now permanent, essentially neutralizing the differences between the two prior worlds.

Ok, so clearly, when I was writing this, I had a whole shit load of symbolic rubbish and themes going on. And now the current me is going to try to make sense of all of it.

The easiest things to note are the themes of mental health, as that's a theme I had jotted down in the skeleton for the story. The boy represents insomnia, depression, and schizophrenia. The girl represents ADHD, anxiety, and bi-polar disorder. The reason these disorders are represented aren't actually some moral theme or lesson, I wasn't trying to make some symbolic bridge to tell how people with these disorders interact with the world and humanize them. Rather it's all about coping, everything that happens internally. The story wasn't a tool for readers, rather a tool for me to better interpret how these disorders work and how to cope with them. I didn't have the direct thoughts or words to make sense of what I was feeling at the time, so I used these highly symbolic stories to capture those thoughts so I could make sense of them at a later date. In order to learn how to cope, I wrote a story about other people learning how to cope, weird right?

Either way, that's the only concrete theme I had written down. Everything else is just tied to speculation. At some point I thought I might've been making some gender commentary, as it's both a boy and a girl in these worlds and the interact with that world differently, but nope! The reason I know that's not the case is because of what character I used in these worlds, that's right, singular character.

I have an OC named Miso. This character has no concrete design, just varying designs that look kinda similar. This character also switches from being masculine presenting to feminine presenting and back all the fucking time. What is their actual sex or gender? Hell if I know, I just change it to whatever I feel like when I want to. Miso is a character that embodies what my idea of humanity is in its purest form, and a high factor in that is nuance and chaos (without the negative connotation). Meaning the two characters I wrote are actually the same character, even though they act differently. Their gender is irrelevant, and their 'universal humanity' symbology is supposed to come to light the moment the worlds merge.

And I actually have several cases of other stories I've written of Miso being split into two characters, like the main one I've shared in which you have Mi, the older sister, and So, a younger brother, in 'Dear You'. Miso isn't really a character per say, it's the embodiment of a hugely broad and nuanced theme in a character. The reason Miso is also often split is because interpersonal interactions are a huge proponent of that theme, and so in a story where Miso is the only character that split is necessary. Then in a story where Miso is a character that's supposed to represent the future and the upbringing of the next generation, that split is again necessary.

So no, I didn't have any themes about gender, but I did have a theme about universal humanity, which is why I used Miso. Now what is the theme about universal humanity actually telling? Well the only thing I could discern is that it's about the importance of emotion, mainly empathy, and balance. The boy finds comfort and companionship in the emotions of the day time sky as the girl does of the nighttime sky. The boy finds paranoia and fear of the nighttime sky, as the girl does of the daytime sky.

What the two are so afraid of when it comes to the sky is apathy. The boy exists in a world where nothing he does changes, he can't fix or break anything, but the only thing that is and has always been broken to him is the nighttime sky. The sky represents apathy, because in his subconscious he knows what would happen if things didn't reset. He feels he would break everything around him, and eventually himself, becoming unconcerned with the world around him and leaving it in the same way the sky looks. The nighttime sky is his fear of breaking the world around him, and his fear of being complacent with a broken world.

The girl on the other hand is paranoid with the day time sky, pointing out particularly how it was blank, had no emotion, and felt like it was always watching her. Her sky represents the potential of her apathy in a feeling of reduction. The sky watches her emotionlessly, as if she's nothing. She fears that, with how blank the world around her is, that one day she may lose her place in the world. She'd become just as colorless as it is, and eventually stop moving. She often describes the little details of things, how certain details have been seemingly forcefully ripped out. She fears her emotions being ripped out of her on account of her own inability to recognize her own worth in the world around her.

Essentially, he doesn't want to become a monster that defines everything, and she doesn't want to be reduced to nothing, equating herself to the world around her. So the parallel is that he doesn't want to be everything and she doesn't want to be nothing.

So what they find solace in is the opposing factors of the world, and what they heal from is eachother. The boy finds comfort and companionship in the daytime sky, in the fact that it is something that has form, something beyond himself, and he finds direction and purpose within it. The girl finds comfort in the nighttime sky, to her it's evidence that there's something more out there, that the world around her is worth more and is more complex than the nothing it's presented otherwise, that one day the cracks would break the sky completely and she could see the more that's beyond it.

The boy finds comfort in the fact that he can't break anything. Even though he's not presented as a violent or aggressive person, he's still just that afraid of doing harm. The solace is in the fact that he knows that things are going to be ok. He's still a careful and considerate person, but he has an understanding of that assurance because of the rules of the world around him. The girl finds comfort in the static, knowing that there's something beyond it. Even though she doesn't believe herself to be nothing, she's afraid of the world being nothing and becoming that herself. In the static of the screen, in the little details of the world that have been ripped out, she can tell that at some point there was something more. Her solace is in the fact that there's more she doesn't know, more she wants to learn, and more she wants to replicate, that she can make something of the world around her and therefore herself as well.

It's these things that keep them going, keep them sane. It's the universal laws that everything is going to be ok and that everything has meaning. That doesn't actually solve their insecurities however. Despite the opaque evidence that should quell their fear of apathy, it doesn't. He's still a careful person, she still gets frustrated with herself. Just because the truth is there, right in front of their face, it doesn't mean they can actually and fully understand it, that doesn't mean they can trust it.

That's the point of the two eventually connecting through the journal. It requires another perspective, another person's understanding, and another person's influence and support in order for these insecurities to actually heal. There's a lot of talk in relationships about how you can't fix someone, and this is true. However, no one can heal on their own. The interpersonal aspect of this story is supposed to emphasize that. The two can't heal with just themselves and the world around them, it requires them to actually meet eachother and support eachother. For humanity to heal and be better, we need eachother. When people say, "You can't fix someone," they mean you can't fix them on your own. It requires work from you, the other person, and more often than not everyone else in their life. The idea is that everyone needs to put in the work, not that since you can't do it on your own you should just up and leave. Healing is about worlds coming together, completing eachother, and being better for it, inheriting everything that scares and comforts us, and yet finding solace in both.

That's, what the current me, can deduce from past me's premise. Again, it's a story about coping, it's a story about healing, and it's a story about acceptance. The main message being that we need other people to heal, but we also need to put in the work ourselves. That we can't fix anyone on our own, but nothing will be fixed if we all just decide to walk away. It's a story about the importance of looking out for eachother, something I honestly think we're forgetting as the world gets more and more morally individualistic. I'm talking about actual individualism here, not the weird meta-term that I use all the time that confuses people.

The two characters need eachother to live in a world they both enjoy, they need eachother to live in a world that gives them purpose. Morality is about healing, betterment, and the aim is to show the importance of personal, interpersonal, and universal morality. What's right by you, what's right by the people around you, and what's right for the world around you.

I want to clarify that it isn't some peachy, "oh they're together now and everything is wonderful" or smthn. The story doesn't end on a tone like they could only find purpose and meaning in eachother. The world's merging is the last major event, but that's not where the story ends.

Now they have the opportunity to heal, but those insecurities don't just disappear once the two meet. In fact, if anything they're inflated for a while. The last few chapters are about learning how your morals affect other people, how things like defining yourself by the other person in your life can cause problems, how being too dependent or independent can cause issues, and how to rectify these things. In the story I had planned out fights and failures between the two and how they would need to work past it, what boundaries to set, understanding their own self worth but also dealing with the bit of apathy that had grown on them when they were separate.

So the progression goes like this; on our own we can cope, but we can't heal. It requires the work of ourselves and others to heal, and with others we get that opportunity. However, we need to understand sonder, we need to understand ourselves and eachother to actually succeed. It takes personal growth, and apathy can be a hinderance.

Empathy is what humanity needs, but empathy wont magically fix everything. We need to look out for eachother, but we also need to look out for ourselves. The story was meant to emphasize empathy, the importance of altruism, and then finding the right balance of it all as anything in extremes is unhealthy.

However, I never wrote past the third chapter, so what does it all matter eh? That's as fleshed out of a theme as I could get from my bare bones skeleton for the story, and I plan to try to write it again, but when has me planning anything ever actually worked?

Anyways, onto the actual important part, do they kiss? Answer, no. When writing the skeleton for the story, I didn't actually write it to be a romantic relationship between the two. The way I talked about it made it seem intimate yet platonic. Will it stay that way if I write it again? Should it stay that way? Yes it should, but no it won't, because I like writing cute comfy romance and I no longer care if that kinda takes away from the theme. Since they're technically the same character does that make it morally grey and kinda weird? Stop asking questions thank you.

#another interesting thing about this story #it was actually originally titled 'Dear You'#but I eventually abandoned the name #reusing it in what you know now as 'Dear You'#altho 'Dear You' has now been renamed to 'Time' because 'Time' was renamed to 'Self'#'Dear You' has also been retconed #again #so I might just change 'Tellings of the Sky' back to 'Dear You'#holy shit this is confusing

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leiazher · 3 years

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I want to scream.

#nothing has happened...yet #I'm just bipolar #and currently suffering from mania induced rage #also I can't describe what exactly I'm feeling and it's driving me mad #I KNOW what I'm feeling I just can't describe it without entering a long winded explanation of some unforgettable forgettable Tuesday #things only remembered in remembering #how am I feeling? hope you have time for some backstory that isn't actually relevant #but helps me build up to the actual answer #I'm not happy about it either #bipolar #mania #do not be mistaken I'm still in a depressive episode #but things are... calmer #IF IT WASN'T FOR MANIA #jfc I'm gonna stop or I'll be rambling on to some tag limit #probably #I'm going to bed I can't deal with today anymore

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to-all-the-stories-i-love · 2 years

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Here's an end-of-year gift for ya..

I've been so appreciative of your interest/feedback, so I wanted to say "Thank you", but couldn't figure how - then it hit me: say it with smut! I'm sure you've noticed I don't often describe physical characteristics of my OC's, nor use pictures in my "moodboards" (as to be more inclusive), so I decided to do one with more hints. NOTE: I wanted to use more things, but I changed my scene, so they didn't work out. And...if I'm entirely mistaken about what range of skin tone you're in: humblest apologies. PS. Don't feel pressure to keep showing interest, this really is a gift. PS.2. I can't insert the picture here, so I'll send it on msg.(The pic is a bit nicer than the actual story.)

HIGHLAND ISLAND

SMUT, Baek x R, wc:1,7k

"Jesus Christ, what on earth are you doing out here..!"

Too cold, too grateful to speak, you get into the passenger's seat of the Land Cruiser with limbs so stiff they hardly bend.

Turning on the light, he looks at you with shock, amazement and worry painted on his face before going to the trunk of the car. Even though you've trudged onwards for nearly three hours it's the gust of -21°C wind through the driver's door that impacts you the most - knowing you're inside you don't ever want to feel as much as a summer breeze again.

Coming back he drapes a sleeping bag over your body.

"It's not enough, but it'll do for now. Where's your car?"

"B-bus…"

"There aren't any buses here."

"Bus...ted..", you manage to say, your teeth clattering violently against each other. "I wa-a-a-ssss at the...l-lake…"

"You walked from the loch? Jesus, Mary and Joseph…"

"… so refrain from driving tonight. The ploughs will open the road tomorrow…" The radio crackles.

"But I…"

"Thought so. See the little house up ahead? That's me."

•

"Here, let's get you inside", he says, flicking the light switch up and down without any luck. "Damn it… Wait here."

Struggling to take your shoes off while he turns the light on in the kitchen alcove, you've barely managed to loosen half a shoe by the time he gets back, carrying a basin.

"Woh, woh, woh, sit down, let me", he tuts compassionately.

Submerging your feet and hands in the water you're surprised to find it's not hot, but lukewarm.

"It can cause tissue damage if it's too warm", he explains.

"Really? But I'll be fine, right? My toes won't fall off?"

"You really aren't from around here, are you", he smiles, while putting his own hands in, carefully working up your blood circulation. "Itching?"

"Like hell."

"Good. Keep moving your toes, I'll run you a bath. If that's...alright..?"

The mere thought of it makes you drowsy; sighing loudly, you nod a thankful yes.

"I don't know how much warm water there's left in the heater. If you want to wash your hair I can put some on the stove."

Even if you had your post shower army here nothing in the world could convince you to do it, nor to put him out even further.

"No, no, it's fine. And I'm just glad to have clean, dry clothes", you say, referring to his apology about the size of them.

"Okay, then...just holler if you need anything."

As off as it can feel even showering at a friend's house, things not being the way you keep them, bathing in the home of a stranger should be multiplied ten times over, but once your poor body enters the tub all worries fly away, all senses fade.

Some type of woodwork DIY, Baekhyun's tub with its small, rounded shape is straight out of olden times, but right now it beats any Waldorf or Savoy. Resting your head against your arm, the warm water unties the knots and soothes your body; you don't care about fighting when sleep looms over you.

When your arm slips down the sound of the splashing water jolts you awake. Not sure how long you've been out, it's long enough to've brought the water down to room temperature, so it's with goosebumps you towel your body dry, impatiently longing to be warm again.

There's no mistaking the smell or crackling of an open fire and you're proven right when you come outside.

"I was just about to see if you fell asleep", Baekhyun says from the kitchen. "I've put the kettle on, tea or coffee?"

"I did…", you laugh a little and sit down next to the hearth, instinctively rubbing your hands against one another, holding them up to the fire. "Whatever's easiest. I've intruded quite enough already…"

"Don't be silly - it's not every day I get to save a damsel in distress", he smiles cutely before bringing a pot from the fridge.

Now, no longer feeling like a frozen zombie, you realise this guy's quite good looking. Very good looking, actually...

"Kind, good looking, able… Should I be running for the hills over the fact that he's not wifed up yet..?", you think to yourself, and almost instantly feel a pang of guilt for saying such a thing about the man who probably just saved your life.

"Are you okay to watch these, let me hop in the shower real quick..?"

"Eh...what? Oh, yeah sure. Of course", you nod energetically.

"Great. I put the pot on the stove so we can eat. Nothing special, just a stew with taters."

"Taters..?", you echo him, raising your brow.

"What..?", he asks, matching his brow to yours as he leans against the table. "My appearance doesn't allow for me to say taters..?" His challenge is full of amusement. "If that's the case, then aren't you a bit high up north yourself..?"

"Touché…"

With your smile comes a most unexpected sentiment: an inward sizzle, that feeling of excitement, of someone exciting you. "Oh, no. DON'T. ", you frown at yourself.

"Quite the homemaker when you're thawed…", you hear his voice chirping at the way you've managed to find plates and cutlery.

"I should do something. Besides, most kitchens have-"

Oh, no..!

As if it isn't a big deal, Baekhyun's come out shirtless, ruffling his hair with a towel, to check on things.

"-eh, have the same layout."

Standing dangerously close to you, he lifts the lid and stirs.

"M-hm, looks about ready to eat. You must've worked up a real appetite", he smiles.

Using all your might you manage to look at his face and seem unbothered.

"Yeah, I'm famished."

"Let's sit by the fire."

•

"...I'm a farrier", he says, slurping up a spoonful.

"Ferryman?"

He barely stops eating to talk; you realise he might be just as hungry as you.

"Farri-er", he says again and points to a photo standing on the ledge over you.

Dirtied by soot in his face (you gather), he's still easy to pick out among the three men posing in their leather aprons.

"Ah..! You make horseshoes..."

/.../

"I've gotten used to the howling, but I hope you can fall asleep later…"

"Howling? Is there a draft?"

"You mean no one told you?", he asks, surprised.

Glancing left, glancing right, then leaning in closer he explains:

"Ghosts…"

"Ghosts..?", you smirk, but of course become intrigued.

"M-hm. There was a murder here back in the olden days… A shepherd, found dead on his land. There were no witnesses except! for his hound, his dog. The killer was never caught, nor was the dog, he ran away. Refused another owner. But...", he says, lifting his hand for effect. "...when the night is dark and the moon bright you can hear him howling, lamenting his master…", he whispers with a glint in his eyes.

"That dog move up here from Dartmoor?"

Laughing, he straightens himself up.

"Oh, you've read it."

"Baskervilles, who hasn't? Must be lonely out here. You trying to scare me into getting closer, huh?"

Looking to the side he chuckles - when his eyes meet yours again they exude boldness.

"I have other ways of doing that."

•

The sturdy wooden bed emits a muted creak on and off as Baekhyun pounds his body against yours on and on. Thighs spread wide your hands are on his waist partly to touch, partly to regulate impact as he feverishly draws pleasure from your body.

With a fur blanket draped on the small of his back your sex becomes a burning hearth of licentiousness; shy cordiality gone in favour of desires as natural and rough as the land outside the window. It's not only the feeling, but the sight - and mere thought - of his pulsating cock widening you, his hairs tickling around your entrance, that has you enthralled, unapologetically desperate for more.

Every part of his body seems to have been shaped by his work; thighs and glutes tightening, arms and chest flexing in the orange light where he hovers above you, panting.

Trembling, he lets out a groan, inhales sharply and picks up his pace before pulling out. Burying his head next to yours he whines into the pillow.

"Shit…"

Holding tight around his shaft, cooling himself down, he envelopes his lips over yours. His upper lip tastes like salt, damp like the scalp underneath your fingertips.

Keeping the anticipation, he teasingly dips into you; sliding his cock in then out, waiting, placing a wet kiss on your lips, slides again, feathering his nose against your neck, humming...

"Mh, you're so sweet…"

Trying to pull him down is no good but getting your fingers on his cock weakens his dominance. His moan comes from his stomach when you easily move the taut skin over his hard length, feeling the grooves underneath. He's content to let you tease him like he did you until he smoothly lifts your legs up and aligns himself to your entrance. Pushing past with its head, his cock fills you to the brim, once again being painted by your fluids.

Even in your abandonment you're cognizant of the vulgar scene the pair of you create; legs swinging aimlessly over Baekhyun's back; the animalistic, rounding thrusts of his pelvis; nails harshly dug into his skin, the sweat on his neck collecting under them - the sweat on your neck mixing with the saliva he breathes out in heavy gusts.

His chase is so tangible you can almost touch it, looking forward to his ultimate display of satisfaction as he now and again adjusts his grip, keeping your body tight against his.

His release pierces through your ear, jarring your brain with its high, clear, note, followed by erratic bucking as he empties himself into you.

"Ugh!", he grunts as if in pain, slowly pushing deep.

His loud exclamations turn to softer hums and coos, all the while continuing to enjoy the last bit of his orgasm, kissing your neck, stroking your breast.

•

The moon now brighter than the dying embers in the fireplace, listening to Baekhyun languidly talk about his daily this and that is an anodyne. Hearing a little chuckle you look to see him smiling gently.

"I don't think any howling dog could keep you up…"

"Mmm… I think you're right", you murmur back.

You also find yourself thinking that maybe, just maybe, you could stay another day.

Thank you @baeklination💕💕💕this has got to be my forever favorite gift that I have ever received and truly the most thoughtful! I so appreciate this. And I love this story the smut was perfectly done and I will be reading this for awhile in pure pleasure.

#baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun smut #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun fanfic

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mimisempai · 3 years

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Missing you comes in waves and tonight I'm drowning

Summary:

After seeing Loki disappear before his eyes and confined to the TVA because of the failed mission, Mobius decides to still believe in Loki and search for him. He witnesses the discussion between Sylvie and Loki on the train

Notes:

My theories on the method used by Mobius to locate Loki is probably very far-fetched and lacks technical truth, but that's not the most important point here, so I hope you'll forgive me for my short cuts. (I miss them together!)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32162878

2008 words - Rating G

"Loki! Wait!"

Loki looked at him for a moment before stepping through the portal.

By the time they got there, it was too late Loki and the portal was gone.

"I knew he would betray us as soon as he could!" said one of the hunters right next to Mobius.

"Shut up!" shouted Mobius at him before returning to the TVA.

As he walked toward Ravonna's office, the same thoughts swirled over and over in his head.

Had Loki betrayed him! What were his plans? But worst of all, was he in danger?

He tried to think rationally.

Loki always said he was one step ahead, but Mobius knew that wasn't true. Loki was improvising. Loki was adapting. So reason told Mobius that this is what he had done.

That's when Mobius decided to do something he'd never done in his life at the TVA, he was going to bet on chaos. On the fact that Loki had chosen to follow the variant not only for his own sake but also because it was his mission.

Because Mobius could not imagine that what they had shared was nothing in the eyes of the god.

"Mobius! In my office!"

Ravonna... he was already imagining her reprimands, "I warned you" "he can't be trusted"...

As soon as he entered her office, she showed him a screen and just said, "Look!"

A scene showing the variant fighting in a hallway with the guards and Loki in the locker room retrieving his daggers then arriving at the place where the guards were eliminated.

Next scene Loki and the variant fighting, Loki trying to convince her to team up, at this point, despite the faith he has in him, Mobius could not determine if this is a way to stop her or get what he wants.

Then Rovenna arrives and the variant uses Loki as a hostage.

Mobius could not prevent a gasp.

Still on the screen, seeing that Rovenna is not persuaded, Loki grabs an object that opens a portal above them and he and the Variant disappear.

Mobius tried not to show his relief, but he saw that Rovenna was not fooled.

"So you still trust him?"

Mobius looked at her defiantly, "As long as I don't have concrete, real proof that he betrayed us, yes I’ll trust him!"

"Always the idealistic dreamer huh?"

Mobius didn't answer, Rovenna continued, "You're grounded here until I tell you otherwise. You can get out."

Once out, Mobius sat in a chair, held his head in his hands, and began to think. He was grounded, but there was nothing to stop him from trying to figure out where Loki was.

He just had to figure out how to locate him.

The difference was that now, thanks to Loki, he knew to look in the apocalypses, what he had to find now was the equivalent of that candy, something out of the ordinary, something anachronistic.

He stood up suddenly, he had found it!

He went to the office, where the screen that displayed all the nexuses was located.

"Casey! Come here!"

The younger man got up and joined him. Mobius spoke more softly, "Will you help me with a secret project?"

Casey, who had great respect for the man, nodded.

"Follow me."

They headed into the archive room. Mobius chose a table a little out of the way.

"You sit here. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, he returned with a stack of files that he separated into two piles.

"In all these apocalypses, we need to find one where it mentions two Lokis variants and unusual magical acts."

"Got it!"

Mobius didn't know if his smoky theory would work out, but he didn't have much choice.

He couldn't help but think back to a similar scene a few days earlier, when Loki had fallen asleep. He had let his guard down in the presence of Mobius, so that meant something, didn't it?

He started to flip through the files.

"M-Mobius! I think I've got it!"

Casey was showing him a file, Lamentis-1 - 2077, a woman reports that two demons tried to attack her. One even allegedly posed as her deceased husband in order to get information.

Mobius could feel it in his bones. It was Loki and the Variant.

He was going to have to gamble on someone again.

"Casey. I need you to keep this a secret for a while longer. If Ravonna gets wind of this, I'm afraid she'll launch an assault and won't hesitate to eliminate Loki."

Casey nodded without taking time to think, "As long as you need Mobius."

Mobius was surprised that he didn't have to persuade Casey more than that.

After all, he seemed to be the good, loyal employee who never disobeyed.

Casey, seeing his reaction, added with a knowing smile, "You know, I like Loki too. He promised me he'd show me what a fish is and you know? The drink he took from me the other day, he bought me another one and apologized. A villain wouldn't take the time to do something like that right?"

Mobius's throat tightened. Casey was the first person other than himself to acknowledge that there was good in Loki.

"Thanks."

Casey nodded and returned to his desk.

Mobius headed straight for the video archive room. The advantage of being an agent of his rank was that he had unrestricted access to this section of the archives.

He searched through the shelves until he found the videos of Lamentis 1 in 2077.

He sat down in front of one of the small projectors provided for this purpose. He was going to start from the described scene that Casey had shown him.

After entering a few parameters, the screen lit up with Loki being blasted by an old woman.

The noise of the meteors that rained down around

Loki and the one who accompanied him, prevented Mobius from hearing what was being said.He pressed the fast-forward button until Loki and the girl, after some trouble to enter the train, found themselves in a box in the dining car.

He turned up the volume to hear their conversation.

He was amazed at how easily they seemed to converse, despite the jabs on both sides, and couldn't help a twinge of annoyance that he refused to recognize as jealousy.

The variant said to Loki, mockingly, "FYI, that wasn't even a plan."

"Oh, really?"

God how Mobius missed that cheeky attitude. Even when unmasked, Loki still had that irritating confidence.

The variant replied, "Plans have multiple steps. Dressing as a guard and getting on a train is just doing a thing."

She couldn't hold back a yawn.

Loki responded, "Oh, are you a bit tired? Feel free to, you know, get some rest."

One thing Mobius had realized and Casey had confirmed to him just before was that Loki cared more about others than he let on if you paid attention.

The variant grunted and replied, "I can't sleep in a place like this."

"You can't sleep on a train?"

The variant retorted, irritated, "No. I can't sleep around untrustworthy people."

Loki replied, still cheeky, "Oh, right. That's me?"

Fearing he might misinterpret what had been said, Mobius pressed rewind and let the scene play out before him.

The image of Loki nodding in agreement about not being able to sleep near people he couldn't trust was superimposed on the image of Loki sound asleep in his company.

He could not suppress the pang of his heart.

Loki trusted him, Loki considered him trustworthy.

While he was thinking, the video had continued and Loki was now talking about his mother.

Mobius had witnessed Loki's relationship with his mother and his devastation at the news of her death.

Loki's voice had become more hushed, with that hint of fragility he had whenever he spoke of her.

"She was, um... A Queen of Asgard. She was good. Purely decent."

Then the variant and Loki respectively provoked each other about the fact that they were adopted and Loki continued, "You know, when I was young, she'd do these little bits of magic for me. Like turn a flower into a frog or cast fireworks over the water. It all seemed impossible. But she told me that I'd be able to do it too because... Because I could do anything. You wanna see?"

Loki sets off tiny fireworks over his hand.

Mobius could not deny his feelings at that moment.

The sight of magic coming from Loki's hands, pure magic, was enchanting.

Loki continued, "She was the kinda person you'd want to believe in you."

Mobius could not help but whisper, "Loki, I believe in you."

For a few moments he didn't catch the conversation until it was audible again. Apparently they were talking about their love interests.

The variant asked Loki, "How about you? You're a prince. Must've been would-be-princesses or perhaps, another prince." She finished with a wink.

Loki, replied with a serious look, "A bit of both. I suspect the same as you. But, nothing ever..."

The variant finished his sentence, "real."

"Let me find you and I'll prove to you how real it is." Mobius didn't realize he was speaking aloud. He pushed fast-forward again.

The Variant had fallen asleep and Loki looked a little giddy.

Loki waved his hand and was back in his TVA agent costume.

He could wear the illusion of any outfit, and he chose this one. Why stay in these clothes?

Mobius really didn't want to be under any illusions, because how could he imagine that someone like Loki, a prince, a god, would want to claim a belonging to something like the TVA... to someone like Mobius?

Loki had started to dance and sing.

Mobius could not help but laugh. Then his laughter died down as Loki's song became more melancholic,

I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

og synger "når kommer du hjem?"

Men traner danser og fossene stanser

når hun synger, hun synger "kom hjem"

Then seeming to regain his spirits, Loki began to dance and sing happily again as if trying to prevent nostalgia from invading him.

When the music stopped, he joined the Variant and resumed his seat in front of him. Mobius managed to understand what they were saying to each other.

"What did you just sing to look so disturbed?"

Loki looked a little moved and answered him with the voice Mobius knew well, the one he used when he was serious, when he was sincere.

"It's Asgardian, it says:

In storm-black mountains, I wander alone

Over the glacier I make my way

In the apple garden stands the maiden fair and sings,

"When will you come home?"

Loki stopped, apparently moved, and the Variant simply said, "So there's a would-be-princess somewhere..."

Loki chuckled looking so sad before answering her, "I like metaphors you know, it's not a princess it's a prince, and I don't know if he's waiting for me or hoping to see me again, it's not even really my home, but..."

"But you'd like to believe that right?"

Loki nodded.

Mobius, didn't dare to believe that it was him that Loki was talking about, even though he couldn't stop the hope from rising up inside him.

The video continued, much more animated, after a wild fight, both jumped off the moving train and found themselves walking through a kind of desert towards the energy source they apparently needed to reactivate the tempad.

Mobius saw Loki suddenly stop, looking shocked. But Mobius was unable to hear what they were saying, the sound of the meteors again covering their voices.

Suddenly, Loki shouted louder, "But they don't know that!"

And they began to run.

Mobius could see that Loki was repeating something as he ran, an expression that Mobius had never seen on his face. Like he was worried. But he couldn't hear him. He zoomed in closer to try to read Loki's lips and finally succeeded.

Mobius.

_________

The whole serie here : The story of Loki and Mobius

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

#lokius fic #lokius #lokius rights #time husbands #loki #mobius m mobius #loki spoilers #loki series #moki #wowki #developing relationship #POV Mobius

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visd3stele · 3 years

Text

magic and kids

summary:

A/N: I really hope you like it. Thank you for your requests. Loved writing it.

art credit: @phantomrin

TW: none

@britishbookworm2 requested (if you want to leave a request as well, click)

masterlist

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

It's been four years since Taryn decided the mortal world would be a more suitable place to raise her child than Elfhame. Even if her sister was now High Queen, the fairies would still make life hard for her and her baby. Maybe not on purpose, she admits it. But magic runs wild, free and unstoppable. Used to it, the Fae Folk barely notices the dangers. And frankly, they don't care. Not allowed to use it on humans as cruelly as before, some meaner courts claim innocent ignorance. How can an entire society of enchanted beings change overnight? How could they be expected to adjust to human fragility all of a sudden?

So Taryn took her baby, promised her sister to visit and fled to Heather and Vivi's. It wasn't as hard as she'd thought. Getting used to the mortal world, that's it. And if her baby had longer canine than normal, or his ears sharpened to pointy edges to the top, it passed unnoticed. Her son certainly didn't stood out the way Vivi did, even with light brown eyes that looked orange in the sun and rusty red hair. He didn't need much glamouring either, not like Oak, Oriana or Madoc. By the time she sent him to preschool his hair was long enough to cover the ears and no one seemed to notice the teeth even without magic.

For all the talk Taryn did on how she wanted her son to be free of his father in all ways, snapping at Oak when the boy tried to teach him magic before he knew how to properly walk and forbidding her family to bring Fairyland up, she named him Renard.

Fitting, though not what she should have done. Maybe part of her can't let Locke go, not entirely. She knew he didn't particularly wanted the baby, that everything he promised her were pretty lies. But for a few months, it has been real. Their marriage, their love, their lives. She saw her dreams come true, one after another: the mistress of an important household, throwing parties for courtiers, motherhood.

Now that everything she wanted snaped broken in tiny little pieces carried away by harsh winter wind, Taryn Duarte couldn't phantom having her child become like his father.

"It has nothing to do with magic, for fuck's sake!" Vivi exploded once, after Taryn better than not threw Oak and Oriana - who came to visit - out of the apartment for trying to reach Renard's magic. "He won't become a sly, selfish fox if he can change appearance or grow horses out of leaves. It's all about his up-bringing!"

"I want him to be normal, Vivi! That's why I took him here!"

Renard has been barely one year old when the argument happened. But it was enough to take his mother's words to heart.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Four years old Renard and twelve years old Oak played outside, jumping in crusty piles of autumn leaves. The princeling hadn't given up his plans to teach his cousin magic. He refused to let go of such opportunity: a friend he didn't have to hide of, one he could play with like he used to in Elfhame.

"Hey, Ren-Ren," Oak said, "check this out!" The older boy held up his hand, brows furrowed in concentration, lip grazed between his teeth. Nothing happened for an alarming amount of time. And then... the leaves twirl around the two cousins, splashing then with guts of wind and scarce dew as it swept them up in a friendly tornado.

Renard chuckled in delight, stretching to catch some of the closer leaves. But as soon as he touched one, the whole thing fell apart. "No!" Do it again, Oak. Do it again."

"I'm sorry, Ren-Ren," Oak faked a yawned and laid on the ground. "Magic is very serious business. Very consuming. I'm too tired to even move." He let his eyes close dramatically, watching Renard between his lashes. Truth be told, every time he did magic Oak felt good. Vibrant. As if the earth itself reached out and gave him life. But Renard didn't need to know that yet. He can definitely learn it by himself if Oak's plan works out.

The younger boy pouted and dropped on the ground. "Not fair," he muttered to himself.

"You know, Ren-Ren, you're half fae. That means there's a pretty good chance you're magic too."

"No, I'm not."

"You can't know that. Come on, give it a try!"

"No, Oak! I'm not magic. I'm not like Father, I'm like Mom. Like Mom, just like that."

Oak straightened himself, but didn't rose from the ground. "Ok, Ren-Ren. Listen up. Magic is not bad. It's fun. Don't you think it's fun?"

"Yes!" Renard nodded enthusiastically. "It's super fun. When you do it, Oak." At that the named boy own enthusiasm faded away in an instant.

"Thank you, Ren-Ren," he deadpanned. "But do you know what's more fun than watching me practice magic?" Not giving the kid a chance to answer, to even take in the question, really, Oak said "To do it yourself."

"Do you really think I should try, Oak?" Clearly, the little boy was attracted to magic. And clearly something was stopping him. But his older cousin slowly made whatever that was seem less big and scary, dragging him along in his qualms.

"Totally!"

Renard pushed his lips forward with his tongue, sticking it out through the gap in his teeth. Caramel eyes shone with desire, his red hair flown around by a cold, pleasant wind. "Ok," he gave in, as expected. "How do I do it?"

The smirk that lightened up Oak's face can only be describes as evil. Though no ill intention hid behind it. Only the knowledge his plan worked out, just like his sister, Jude's.

"Listen to me very carefully, alright? There is not just one way to make magic, Ren-Ren. You have to find your own. But for now, try the basics. Think really hard on what you want to happen. Something easy. Got anything in mind?" Renard frowned, then his eyes landed on a tree which still had some green leaves on its branches and nodded.

"Perfect! Now, imagine whatever you want to happen. Imagine it happening. Are you imagining?"

"Yes."

"No!" Oak groaned. "If you're paying attention to me, then it means you're not focusing on magic."

"But how will I know what to do if I don't listen to you?"

"I told you! Magic is your own, Ren-Ren. It comes naturally. So, dig it up. Use your imagination."

Renard tried to shut out the world around him, picturing the sole tree in his mind. A warm pull tugged at him and he followed. His magic, he tried not to dwell on the joy, but instead focusing on his practice. His magic reaching out. Because he reached out first.

The boy allowed the warmth to take control, guiding him through it. The tree now carved in his mind by detail wasn't enough. He needed action. But just imagining the leaves to fall wouldn't do. Renard couldn't say how exactly he knew it. He just did. Something more tender was needed. The half fae kid had to imply what he wants and trust his magic to follow his lead.

So Renard made himself cold. Chilly. Feeling a breeze of wind creeping inside his clothes, whipping his skin gently. Enough to rip a leaf off a tree, though. Which it did. The wind he summoned couldn't be felt, not really. Only by himself and the green leaves that departed one by one from their branch as if plucked by an invisible hand.

Oak gasped. Then grinned. And then he laughed. Renard broke free of his concentration, pleased to see his magic didn't falter. Not until every and each green leaf from his chosen tree didn't fall. The sight made him still in awe for a couple of seconds. But soon enough he joined his cousin with a bubble laugh, jumping up and down and running to tackle Oak in a tight hug.

"I did it, Oak! I did it!"

"Yes, you did, Rem-Ren. Indeed, you did. Congrats!"

"Can we show auntie Vivi? And auntie Oriana?"

When Madoc and Oriana first came in the mortal world, Taryn wanted nothing to do with them. But years of being cared for by the blue skinned, white haired, pink eyes woman showed their tale. She agreed to see her, but only her. She could be part of her child life, if she wanted.

"Sure. But don't you want to show your mom first?"

"Mom and auntie Heather work a lot. We can show them later." Renard said, but he felt his magic shrinking at the thought of his mother. His Mom didn't like his father. And his magic comes from his father. Is that why his magic doesn't want to reveal itself near Taryn? He hoped it was just him overthinking it, because he loves his Mom and wants to share this with her.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Oak stayed with auntie Oriana, who was his mother, so Renard couldn't bring himself to be upset over it. He would want to be with his mother as much as he can as well. So he did a little trick for auntie Vivi, who told him to stay where he was, brought a camera and ordered him to glamour the tea cups again. Renard made them look like pumpkins, since the Halloween being over the corner made him impossibly anxious - in a good way.

Turns out even mortal technology can be fooled by fae's magic. Vivi showed the clip to Heather, who coed over him until Taryn came home.

"Hello, treasure. How was your day? Wanna give mommy a kiss?"

Renard jumped into his mother's arms, pressing a strong kiss on her cheek before starting to tell her about all the fun he had with cousin Oak. "And then he said I should try magic too."

Tamryn stilled. "And?"

"Look, Mom!"

Renard broke a vase, then, with a twitch of his fingers put it back together. "Auntie Vivi says I'm a natural."

"Does she? That's amazing, sweetheart."

But his mother didn't sound thrilled. In fact, her smile wasn't even a smile at all, but a thin line. "I'm sorry, mommy. I knew I shouldn't've done it, but I didn't know why. Now I know: you don't want me using my magic. It'll make me bad, like father."

Renard pushed his lips up front, scrunched his nose up, wiggled his toes, all in an atempt to stop the tears hurting his eyes from falling. When he realized it was in vain, he took off running to his room.

When Taryn entered minutes later she found her son curled on his left side in the middle of the bed, hugging a black goat plushie his uncle Cardan gave him on his birthday tight to his chest. She hated herself for causing the pain struck look on her son's face.

"Hey, sweetie."

"Hi, Mom." Renard wiped his nose with his jumper's sleeve.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie. Mommy was just scared, but that's not your fault. You could never be bad. Magic is not bad. Of course you can practice all you want, but we'll settle some ground, basic rules first. Ok?"

"Really?"

"Rules you can never, ever break. Really."

"Thank you, Mommy! You're the best! Just wait until Oak hears about it."

A/N: Renard means fox in french. Also: oops, guess I finished it earlier than expected and didn't really felt like waiting days to post it 😅

#taryn duarte #folk of the air #cruel prince #the wicked king #queen of nothing #tfoa #oak greenbriar #madoc #magicfolk #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the queen of nothing #wicked king #my fic #my writing #imagines #imagine #fanfic

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statusquoergo · 3 years

Note

Writing advise please?? How do you keep things fresh? How do you create an environment? HOWWW do you keep a consistent theme within a fic? Without veering off on a tangent? And how do you know what makes sense to you won't be too obscure for your readers?? Also I wuv you

Oh! Thank you so much for asking, I'm really flattered you want my opinion on all this!

It did get super long, though, so for the tidiness of everyone’s dashes, answers under the cut.

How do you keep things fresh?

Well... Okay, so, we definitely all have our favorite tropes and our writing trademarks and our signature styles and all that, there's no denying it. And that's not a bad thing at all! But there is a difference between writing with recognizable features, and writing the same damn story over and over and over. You want to write a million coffee shop AUs? Awesome! Go for it! But if all you're doing is like, changing the name of the coffee shop, that's pretty dull, don't you think? There needs to be at least some key feature to make each story unique. A coffee shop AU where all the characters are stressed-out college students is probably very different from a coffee shop AU where the coffee shop itself is a front for money laundering!

Now, that's not to say the same fundamental story can't be told in very different ways. I think we'd all agree I've tackled the prison arc...more than a few times (nine, to be precise), but I flatter myself to think they're not exactly carbon copies of one another. You can change the story dramatically by changing the development of a single issue (e.g., I've done "Mike has PTSD" a few times, but the presentation thereof has varied: "Mike has an emotional breakdown in public," "Mike hits his breaking point and runs away," "Mike has repression and anhedonia," "Mike cheats on Rachel with Harvey"), or by changing your overall theme. Maybe Mike and Harvey are finally moving in together! Do you want to write a comedy of errors full of corny jokes and terrible puns? Or maybe an insightful think piece about Harvey's relationship with his family versus his relationship with Mike? Both stem from basically the same prompt, are totally valid, and completely different.

The key here, I think, is to always be open to trying something you haven't done before. You've probably spent tons of time refining and perfecting the thing you're best at, and that's fantastic, but remember that we're all just trying to have fun here and none of this has to be flawless to be great. If starting off with a radically new take on something is too intimidating, you can always start writing a story that is in your comfort zone, find the point where things start to get too repetitive, and ask yourself, "Okay, but what if...?" Lean into that new direction! Experiment and see where it takes you!

Oh, and on a slightly more technical note, if you're talking about keeping things fresh from a writing mechanics perspective, do be on the lookout for overused phrases. I think we're all guilty of this at one time or another, there's no shame in it, but there are a million ways to describe a single item or feeling or scenic location or whatever; every character doesn't have to speak "pointedly," every gust of wind doesn't have to "whirl," every tree doesn't have to be "towering." Pinpoint why it's important to you to describe this thing at this moment, and then figure out what makes it stand out. What do you want to draw your reader's attention to? Hone in on that, and be specific.

How do you create an environment?

You most likely want your readers to identify with your characters, so it's important to identify what your characters are feeling, and then craft the environment around that. Is a serial killer on the loose in an abandoned penitentiary? Focus on the darkness, focus on sudden movements, focus on noises that don't have obvious sources. Create tension before your characters even enter the picture, and then use them, their actions and responses, to enhance it.

Contrast is a lot of fun here, too. If your characters are struggling with some profound turmoil that's completely inwardly-focused, you might go out of your way to describe an extremely banal, very normal setting (the conference room table is a long brown rectangle, the chairs are all exactly thirteen inches from the wall, the walls are laminated faux wood siding, every member of the board is giving the same speech in the same soporific monotone) and then jump into your character's head as they contemplate the fact that their best friend is considering some extremely dangerous methods of finding the money to pay off their student loans. Or it doesn't have to be a deep struggle; maybe your character is at a cheerful picnic but feeling very sad for some reason, or they're watching an action movie but feeling bored.

The big thing about crafting an environment is what you want to use it for. Does it matter where your characters are, or what they're doing while they're there? Or is the most important thing how they're feeling at the moment? Basically, what does the environment add to the story? It might be enough to say that your characters are in the kitchen and leave it at that, or you might want to go into fine detail about the gum ground into the sidewalk and the smoky cloud billowing out of the open manhole in the middle of the intersection. Both are suitable, but it depends on your intentions which one you want to write.

How do you keep a consistent theme within a fic?

If this is a major problem for you, I strongly suggest starting with an outline for your entire story. You absolutely don't need to plan every single detail down to the letter, but map out the starting point and an end point, and give yourself some milestone markers to hit along the way. What story are you planning on telling? How do you want to get from A to B to C? Tangents aren't actually the worst thing in the world! You can go off on them sometimes, if you want, they can be a lot of fun! But remember why you're writing in the first place. Where do you want your story to end up? The tangent might not be helping you get there, but is it actively moving you backwards, or just slightly off track? If it's the former, you may need to suck it up, scrap it, and start over, but if it's the latter, you might be able to cut yourself some slack and leave it in, or at least part of it, so long as you're able to bring yourself back around to the point without a huge amount of disruption to the plot.

Your own feelings are important, too; if you're trying to tell a particularly sad story, maybe you don't want to write when you're feeling super cheerful. If you're trying to tell a happy story, it might not be the best idea to write when you're absolutely furious. I sometimes find myself writing tangents that match my own mood at the time, but don't really belong in that particular story, so in that sense, it's important to check in with yourself before you get too lost in the weeds.

Ultimately, though, the key things here I think are the editing process overall, and not being afraid to erase something you spent a lot of time on. If you're extremely attached to a particular tangent, cut it out and save it for another project, but sometimes you just have to admit that something you worked hard on and are proud of doesn't belong in the piece you're writing.

How do you know what makes sense to you won't be too obscure for your readers?

You don't. And what's too obscure for some readers won't be too obscure for all. There's a difference, though, between "this makes sense to me because I have a wide and/or particular knowledge base," and "this makes sense to me because I am a party to my own train of thought." If it's the former, you can include background details that will help people who aren't as well-versed in whatever you're talking about as you are (though in this case, try to incorporate them into narrative rather than info-dumping for your own convenience), but if it's the latter, then you need to edit yourself.

For example, in The Simpsons episode "The Seven-Beer Snitch," Marge is trying to figure out how to upgrade Springfield's public image, and this is her thought process:

"Culture... Vulture... Birds of prey... Pray in a church... The Father, Son and Holy Ghost... Ghosts are scary... Scary rhymes with Gehry! That's it! Architect Frank Gehry!"

What the fuck? But since she voices the entire thought process out loud, the viewer understands where she's coming from. If you want to include a reference that relies on insider knowledge, and you're not planning on spelling out for your readers exactly how you got from 7 to pineapple, then you need to figure out another route.

Woof, that was a lot; I hope this isn't all too overwhelming. Thank you again for asking, and I hope at least some of it proves useful for you! Please feel free to ask any other questions, if you like!

Also awwww thank you so much, that's very sweet. <3

#fanfiction #writing is hard #anonymous

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

Something New

Summary: Joon young comes home to a surprise that leaves him winded and bothered.

A companion piece to “You’re My Favorite Song”.

Living together is harmonious chaos, that's the best way he can describe it. Song-ah fills all the spaces he never realized were empty, the kitchen is always well stocked, flowers suddenly appear in a vase he never knew he owed and his bed is warm, warmer than it's ever been. It's the happiest he's allowed himself to be in a devastatingly long time.

She seeks him out the moment she enters the apartment, the soft patters of her feet echoing on the floor as she searches for him calling his name,"Joon young ssi, are you there?" Sometimes he doesn't answer just to watch the adorable glee that fills her face when she finds him, twin dimpled grins on their faces.

"You're here."

If he can help it he'll always be here. Losing her once was more than enough, all those lonely nights spent never knowing what would become of them. Revealing his true feelings had been terrifying, like playing a new piece at a competition for the first time. Desperately hoping that a judge would give him a ten, but for her it would happily risk it all. She was his favorite song.

Waiting for her to finally move in had been torture, he cleaned and then cleaned again. The day she'd finally moved it, rain was pouring from the skies in a sheet, drenching everything in it's wake. Thankfully he had his umbrella and together they walked through the rainy streets, giggling as the skies thundered above them.

Her eyes sparked as she looked up at the very umbrella she'd gifted him. He'd kept his promise of carrying it everyday, sequestered away in his backpack no matter the weather or forecast.

They discuss things he'd never thought about before, like which side of the bed they prefer.

"When you slept alone which side did you sleep on?" She questions from her position on the edge of the bed, she looks flustered, unsure eyes darting all over the room.

He almost chuckles. There's always a nervous current of electricity that roars through their relationship.

"Hmmmmm." He ponders as he makes his way over to her, plopping down beside her before cocooning her hands in his. He loves how small her hands appear in his grasp.

"Joon young ssi?" She presses as he becomes entranced in the vision of their fingers interlocked. She tugs at his hand after a long pause and he smiles at her before shrugging, "I don't care. As long as you're beside me."

She blushes so prettily that he can't resist the urge to kiss her, in an instant he has her flat on his- no their bed, her hair spread out like black silk as he caresses her soft cheek and pushes a hungry tongue into her sweet mouth. They kiss until he's breathless and his heart is racing, "I can't wait to wake up to this everyday." He whispers awed by her and how much love fills his once empty heart.

He never wants to leave her.

Thus it is with a heavy heart that he accepts a concert in China, it is a small intimate performance and the pay is too decadent to decline. He needs to start saving if he intends to give Song-ah the wedding of her dreams, despite her incessant that she wants something simple. She deserves nothing short of perfection.

Her pretty pout saturates his vision when he informs her that he'll be leaving in a few days. Curling around his arm like a housecat, head fixed on his shoulder as he walks around the room picking up essentials and clothes.

"I won't be gone long." He promises leaning down to kiss her forehead through the fringe of her bangs.

She only sighs and pushes in closer to him, so he says no more allowing her to mope a little, he can't say he doesn't love how much she wants him around all the time. He hides a grin in his collar.

"Don't smile. I'm serious, I'm going to miss you. Why would you smile?" She whines pulling away glaring at him, he can't contain his joy and he chases after her tickling her when he catches her. Sadness is pushed aside that night replaced with airy giggles and guffaws.

The morning of his trip is far more forlorn, he longingly gazes at her in her sleep dress and the bunny slippers he bought for her months ago.

Precious.

"Call me when you land." Their hands swing back and forth, as they prolong their inevitable separation. Looking into her eyes, deep warm pools that shine with her love and that gives him enough fortitude to finally pull away, albeit reluctantly.

"I promise."

He wraps her in his arms, smelling her fragrant plum body wash and a scent that is irrevocably Song-ah, imprinting it in his system.

"I love you."

His insides churn at her soft declaration whispered into his skin, painting him with her love.

Embracing her ever tighter, he draws back meeting her head on.

"I love you too. I'll miss you, I'll miss you so much."

And with that he's out the door and hours later he lands and grabs at his phone to keep his promise, chatting about his flight and his plans to get something to eat.

A driver has been sent for him, a sign with his own name greets him at the airport and he tumbles into an expensive car, small luggage beside him. His hotel is luxurious with marble floors and gleaming crystal chandeliers, but it's lacking a certain petite violinist ergo it's nothing compared to his apartment.

The week blurs by before at long last it's time for his concert, it's an easy enough song and it doesn't take much practice before he's mastered it. The audience watches in awed silence before erupting into boisterous applause, he bows and diligently plays an encore before hiding away in his hotel room.

The day of his flight, he checks the airline website to see if there are any earlier flights, wincing when he sees the price increase. But with resolve in his shoulders, he confidently confirms the change because calling the front desk.

Hours later and a cup of coffee to combat his lingering fatigue he's back on Korean soil. He could kiss the ground he's so elated.

It's early when he lands, the sun has barely risen bleeding swirling majesty in the horizon and he eagerly hails one of the many cabs outside the airport knowing that if he rushes he'll be able to catch her as she wakes, sleep warm with bed head.

Handing a tip to the driver, he tugs at his luggage before bounding up elevator to their apartment. It's not until he's outside the door that he remembers to breathe, inhaling deep breaths that do nothing to stop the pounding of his heart.

I'm back.

Fetching his keys from his pocket, he opens the door an inch before poking his head through. All is quiet.

He slips into his slippers, leaving the luggage behind to be dealt with another day. He has more pressing matters such as holding his fiancée in his arms and kissing her until her lips are sore.

Turning the corner he peers at their bedroom door, slightly ajar and peeking inside he sees a sleeping Song-ah wrapped in a cocoon of blankets wordlessly beckoning him closer. He doesn't resist the call.

Sitting on the bed he watches her face, slackened in sleep only her head visible in her deep slumber. Long lashes fan out on her downy cheeks, smooth and plump to the touch as he strokes them. Then there are her rosebud lips, pink and oh so inviting and her delicate nose all contributing to his favorite face.

"I'll wake her in a moment. I just want to look." He says to himself, raptly drinking her in after a long week of being without her.

Seconds turn to minutes which stretch on until the sun has risen fully and he's still watching her, captivated.

Finally nature calls and he creeps off to the bathroom, careful not to wake her.

He walks back to the room, shirt discarded now as he dons a loose shirt and sleep pants, comfortable and free.

With a sigh he lifts the sheets, crawling under and immediately feels drowsy from the heat captured inside the blankets. He lays flat on his back, twisting his head to peer at her once more. Still gorgeous.

As if feeling the shift in the bed, she turns into his heat before cuddling into his side, he gulps at the sensation of her soft flesh pressed into his arm. Then with a whine she spins again, drawing the blanket off her shoulder and that's when he sees it.

The sun peeking through the blinds cuts a line straight down the bed and she's glowing under his gaze.

He almost swallows his own tongue when he fully takes her in. White lace floods his mind, and when she spins onto her back he pulls the sheet back up, covering her swiftly. His skin feels hot and thin as he pants, heart rate suddenly skyrocketing. Her nipples, he swears he could see them teasing through the material.

She sleeps peacefully next to him, not knowing the wildfire she has started.

Then it gets worst.

"Mmm Joon young ssi."

He straightens at the first murmur of his name, staring at her with wide eyes. She's flushed now, cheeks rosy red but her eyes are still tightly shut, still deep in sleep.

"Please."

His cock jolts to attention, he has no cognizant thought or control. It's uncontrollable at her utterance and the memory of the glimpse of her chest his body frizzles to life and arousal crashes over him like a tidal wave.

With a groan, he clamours from the bed rushing to the bathroom but his feet become tangled in the sheets and with a loud thud he crashes onto the floor.

Whining in pain he untangles himself, sitting up then her head appears above him. She stares at him, mouth opened in shock.

"You're here!"

He wants to answer, remembers what words are and remembers when he was able to effortlessly use them.

Now is not one of those moments.

Because now he can fully see what he only got a glimpse of before, a white lace baby doll dress curled around all curves, her nipples peeking through the semi transparent material of the lace. The bottom fans out and exposes a berth of naked skin, the rest is hidden from his eyes.

Suddenly she realizes why his eyes are straying, peering down at herself before gasping and clutching the blankets to her chest. He feels an uncanny urge to cover his eyes to alleviate her stress.

Silence shrouds over them thick like molasses as they both avoid each other's eyes. Her image is still burned in his retinas, he'll never forget it. Ever.

"I'm back. I took an earlier flight." He answers her question, trying to regain a semblance of normalcy.

"Oh. I didn't think you'd be back until later."

That explains her attire somewhat, he's never seen his modest girlfriend wear anything that... seductive before and while her enjoyed the view her discomfort is palpable.

Nodding in understanding, he begins to stand up pointedly not looking at her as he backs away.

"I'll-.... I'll go."

He walks to the door, resisting every urge to turn back and kiss her, devour her and see just how far down the lace goes and how it spreads generously on his thighs and what exactly she's wearing on the bottom. Temptation sings in his blood.

Days of missing her make leaving particularly difficult. But he'll never do anything without her explicit consent.

Twisting the doorknob, one foot out the door as blood rushes to his head he propels himself through the door but then she calls out.

"Joon Young ssi!"

His limps are frozen, suspended in time. But still he doesn't turn around, he doesn't trust himself not to run into the bed with her and give her more reasons to gasp his name like that.

Stop being a pervert.

"Don't go."

He shivers at her breathy request, knowing he's stuck now there's no way he's leaving this room but staying seems like torture with her looking like something out of one of his wet dream.

He spins around, gaze pinned to the ground before hightailing to the singular chair in the room, both too far and too close to the bed.

Nervously he wrings his hands, uncertain how to continue but then she's speaking again.

"I'm sorry."

His head snaps up at her apology, eyes immediately locking on her face compressed in sadness. He stares dumbfounded, forcing himself not to look down.

Finally he finds his voice, "Why? Why are you sorry?"

She looks down at his question, drawing the blanket back around her body almost shielding herself before she answers, "I....made you uncomfortable. You don't feel comfortable in our bed....I'm sorry."

Song-ah is so smart when it comes to work planning his concerts and effortlessly putting together events for the Kyunghoo foundation, meticulously piecing them together and stepping back into the shadows so the performers get the full spotlight. But when it comes to this relationship, to them sometimes she can be quite obtuse, thinking the worst instead of seeing the obvious.

The obvious lays rigid and long between his legs.

Before he can correct her misconception, she's speaking a mile a minute taking his silence as confirmation of his supposed discomfort.

"You weren't supposed to see this, it was a gift from Min Seong. I shouldn't have taken it but I thought I could wear it when you weren't around, practice looking like this....I didn't know if you would like it. But now I know, I can change so pleas--"

Standing resolutely he blinks down at her, her mouth drops open at his sudden movement.

In three large steps he's right beside her, her heat wafting off even through the blankets, teasing and calling to him.

"I like it."

She swallows gazing up at him in wonder, her bottom lip caught in the hard grip of her teeth.

"I like it a lot." He repeats, and now the blankets falls from her grip, immediately he sits on the edge of the bed bringing them face to face.

He can't resist the urge to glance down while this close.

He groans at the sight. Still perfect.

"You like it?" She whispers, different then her usual tone when she's testing him, pushing to see if he's being completely honest or if he's fluffing the truth to make her happy. She sounds terrified that he might be lying.

He reaches out to gently hold her face, letting all the love and arousal wash over his face allowing himself to be vulnerable with her, only her.

"I like it. No, I love it." He answers emphatically and when she whimpers almost shaking in his hold he can't control his body's reaction, the overwhelming need to comfort her. Dragging her close he wraps her in his arms, tugging her head into the heated skin of his neck.

"Song-ah ssi."

"Yes?" Her breath falls in warm puffs on his skin.

"I think I like it too much."

He can almost feel her blushing through their hold as she burrows deeper into him.

Hiding his face in her hair, he takes calming breaths that are all but useless with her in his arms, he hadn't thought this through. The need to soothe her overriding his decision making.

Then she starts to pull away from his hold and he blinks in surprise, caught off guard by her face a blush still stains her cheek but gone is her kicked puppy expression resolve blooms in its wake.

He just stares in confusion, awaiting for next move.

Slowly, she pushes the blankets further down her body and his heart thumps as each new inch of skin is revealed, his fingers are knuckle white in the sheet.

The bottom is a small panty, a barely there triangle that does little to cover her but it's the garter belt that undoes him, stretch tight around her hips and holding up her matching white thigh high socks. All he can see is white, his brain seizures as her attire is completely exposed to his ravenous gaze.

His head falls in absolute defeat before he looks back up at her with pleading eyes, drinking her in like a man lost in the desert.

"Can I....is it okay if I...." Unable to finish his sentence he almost screams in frustration, there was no preparation for this. They've had sex, loud breathtaking tumbles in this very bed with her wet warmth pulling him into the abyss but right now he feels shaken, he's been the one to initiate all those moments. Song-ah has never been this bold. It's making his head spin.

As if privy to his inner monologue (read. suffering) he suddenly feels a soft hand grip his own, after a moment's hesitation she tugs at his hand before placing it on her leg.

Her smooth stocking covered leg.

He runs his hand up her calf, folding over her knee before landing on her thighs, there's a couple of naked inches between the high stockings and her hips, he pauses as he reaches the intersection.

His hesitation drags by, as he tries to rein in his arousal. Too many images are flashing in his mind, he's scared to overwhelm her with all the feelings pooling in his body.

"Joon Young ssi? Are you okay?"

He honestly shakes his head in decline. He's nowhere being okay.

She takes a shuddering breath before speaking, "You don't really like it. Why did you tell me that you did?"

Wrong, again.

With a loud scoff he grabs her thighs, hardening at the plush flesh beneath his hands before pulling, hard. Tugging her down the bed until she's laying flat and he crawls over her, straddling her hands tight on her hips. She's gasps at the rough treatment, gaping at him with wild eyes but her body curls into his own.

His erection is impossible to miss in this new position, tenting the front of his loose sleep pants moisture starting to soak through at the tip.

"I like it."

She stares wide eyed at the obvious.

Its pointed directly at her, confirming how much he in fact likes it.

She squirms in his hold and at the brush of her hip on his hardened cock, he stiffens sweat breaking out on his forehead and shoulders.

"Song ah ssi, can I keep touching? I want to touch everything."

She's always sexy to him, all the time. When she's cooking dinner in their tiny kitchen apron fastened around her slim hips or when she's focused making plans on her phone, brow furrowed in concentration. There isn't a moment when she is not the sexiest woman in his eyes, but seeing her in lingerie has unlocked a secret desire he never knew he had. There's something irresistible about her like this, he knows the mental deliberation it took her to wear this and her fearlessness and devotion to him is the sexiest thing of all.

"You're so sexy."

She wouldn't be his Song-ah if she didn't peer at him with wide eyes so he takes it on the chin and simply smiles. He'll prove it to her everyday if she'll allow him.

As if opposite ends of a magnet their faces gravitate towards each other, first just a gentle brush of lips but he can only contain his lust for so long and he tilts her head forcing them into a deeper, dirtier kiss- filled with tongue and moans. Instinctively he grinds into her and at the silken feel of her panties he jumps, precum beading at his tip as he's reminded of what she's wearing.

When he breaks free of the kiss, she's staring at him dazed and he needs to make her scream, make her purr his name like she'd been earlier whilst lost in her dream, longs to make what had made her so pliant a reality.

With laser focus his gaze falls to her breasts, moving his eyes to her face he runs his hands up her ribs, watching her twitch before his hands are on the peripheral, close but not quite touching where he wants to.

She's heaving now and he's mesmerized, anticipation clings in the air.

He cups her breasts, squeezing them in his large palms watching the lace mold around them, her dark red nipples staring at him and he moves down without thought to taste them, popping a tightly curled point into his mouth, sucking through the thin lace. Her moan is symphonic, loud in his ears as he tongues and pulls at her hungry now, starved even releasing only to devour its twin- pulling that until she's breathing his name over and over.

"Joon young ssi, Joon young ssi!"

Moving swiftly he pulls back only to draw his shirt over his head, his skin is boiling hot and the way she gazes at his naked flesh makes him puff up a little.

She strokes across his chest and he leans into the touch, swaying and lightheaded all of his blood flowing southward.

Then her fingers trail down his chest, past the flat lightly muscled expanse of his torso pausing on his hips, now she's looking at him for permission and instantly he nods, head bobbling up and down so quickly his neck twinges from the movement.

With a nibble to the bottom of her lip- a move he's now wrecked by she yanks off his pants leaving him bare. His cock swings free, knocking into her hand before settling close to his stomach.

Delicate she wraps her hand around his swollen head smearing his own juice down the length of his erection, stroking from tip to root in a move that has him seeing stars.

He can't control his hips that thrust into her fist, too turned on to do anything but feel and react.

Shifting lower he thrusts into her, his wet tip sliding across her warmth and her grip on him loosens as she cries out on the bed, eyes shut and mouth wide open.

He leans down further to catch her lips in another kiss, slower this time just languid serpentine movements.

Simultaneously, he grinds into her core surging at the wetness that he feels there. When he feels her hands at her side he glances only to see her take the thin straps of her panties, knowing what comes next.

"Leave them on."

"Leave them on?" She stutters out, pausing at his command.

He nods, "Yes. I like it. I like you in them."

She shivers at his voice which has dropped an octave since they started this dangerous game.

He rolls into her again until that isn't enough and pulling one hand away from her breasts, he fingers at her panties stroking her lips through the material before sliding them to the side, bearing her sweet flower to his view.

"Oh."

That's all she can manage to get out before he pushes a finger deep inside, tight wetness consumes him and he groans at the implications.

Rocking into her his cock presses at her opening, gliding across her wet hole and boldly she thrusts back lifting her hips off the bed and tugging him in by his shoulder, when his swollen head pops in beside his finger he almost faints from the sensation his brain unable to process anything except good good fucking good.

With a slight push of his hips he's slicing through her until his hips smack into her ass, her legs now wrapped around his waist.

Then they're crashing into each other, wet obscene noises filling the room as he slams into her catching her hands and pushing them into the bed beside her head as he dismantles her, grunting as she bucks beneath him her sweaty bangs sticking to her forehead.

Her breasts jiggle in their lace encasement and he fucks into her and pinches at a nipple that pops free, leaning down to mouth at it as his rhythm never slows, the bed is now squeaking staccato beats from all the movement, in out in out innnn out.

He peppers her face with kisses as she begins to shake in his hold, breath hitching as he pumps into her relentlessly reaching down to rub at her pearl and almost collapsing when she screams and tightens around him, her hands hopelessly scratching at his back before they fall limp on the bed, and she's still.

He allows her a brief moment before pushes in as deep as he can go, her fluttering walls dragging him closer to the end and then she breathes his name and it's all he can take, he's shuttering into her painting her walls white as his vision blares and he finally does collapse into her, she wraps her arms around him stroking him in long calm waves.

"I love you, I love you, I love you."

She paints his skin with her love once more breathing it into him, he tries to remember what life was like before her but nothing comes to mind, she's filled all his empty spaces leaving him whole and restored. There was nothing before Chae Song-ah.

#do you like brahms?#chae song ah #park joon young #joon young x song ah #smut with feeling #inner monologues #still obsessed with these two #park eun bin #kim min jae #lingerie

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one-piece-dumpster-fire · 5 years

Note

Can you do a scenario for Law s/o can take people souls and body parts (likes Law) so she decides to take something of Laws that calls himself a man (if you know what I'm mean) and hides to where he can't find her, she calls him on his transponder snail and tells him she that she wants to play a game. She torture Law by pleasuring him very slow until he's a moaning mess (like screaming and begging) later that day Law gets revenge. Can you make it a long and rough NSFW please.

LOVE how Tumblr just randomly decided to reload the site while I was finishing this up so I could re-do all of my changes again :)

I hope I got this right and that youdon’t mind, but I changed certain things up a little bit (mainly by having Law accidentally givehis girlfriend the ‘you-know-what’ and forgetting to take it backinstead xD

This goes without saying but big warning for some odd(?) filth under the cut~!

Dirty Law scenario: Taken

A goddamn fool. That’s the term Lawwould use to describe himself right now. His hands were shaking as hestared down at the bowl sitting right infront of him, almost as ifthis ‘special soup á la Bepo’ held the answer to all of hisquestions, especially those concerning his current situation. The surgeons cheeks wereflushed and sweat ran down his forehead as he impatiently bounced hislegs against the ground, sometimes loud enough to distract from allthe little groans that escaped from his throat. How the hell did he forget?How the hell could he forget?! For a moment his eyes wandered down to his lapto check again and make sure that this wasn’t just an awful dream-but no, there was indeed nothing there. Another groan escaped hislips as he looked across the table, past all the concerned lookingcrewmates that hesitantly slurped their soup, and right into the eyesof the culprit. A faux innocent smile was dancing on (Y/N)’s lipsas she slowly lifted her spoon while wiggling her eyebrows in Law’s direction as she noticed his staring. How. Dare. She.

Said man clenched his teeth andmuttered a low curse before lowering his gaze to look at the souponce more. Oh, this was far from being over.

Last night certainly was wild- after all, both he and (Y/N)did all sorts of crazy stuff to work off their desperation and pent up tension- and while it felt amazing to completely let go of allworries and concerns for a brief moment, the surgeon made a terriblemistake. At some point he… god, Law couldn’t even remember how exactly ithappened, but he must have…. 'taken off’ his dick and handed it to(Y/N) so she could have some ‘fun’ while he probably watched (which was, to be honest, one ofthe hottest things they ever added to their collections of odd kinks),but- appearantly, Law must have forgotten to… ‘reattach’ it afterwards. So the next morning, while stillfeeling calm and relaxed from the great sex, the grumpy pirate was quickto notice that his girlfriend was missing from the bed. Must have gotten up early,he quickly assumed and walked into the bathroom to get ready himself,which was when he noticed. Something was wrong. Or, to be morespecific, something was missing. An until this point unknown feeling of panic immediately spread through hiswhole body and mind, the former state of relaxation now completelygone as Law tried to recall what exactly happened to his cock lastnight.

And then the call.

God forbid that you just leave him be for one day and not pull something that would get Law all worked upagain. What kind of game was this to you? Hiding from him, evadinghim- even threatening to hurt his manhood if he’d dare to come lookfor you!!! This whole day was just pure torture, you were clearly using thissituation for your own sick amusement while he was forced to walk around thesubmarine, barely able to go on with his daily chores and things whiletrying to repress any urges rising up- because clearly you weresomewhere, playing with him (or rather, his cock) while he had to stay strong and endure all ofit. And ontop of that, you even had the gall to show up to lunch withthat huge smile on your face and a little box by your side- oh Law knewwhat was inside but couldn’t do anything about it- which you were aware of, of course. I mean, imagine ifhis crewmates caught wind of this? No, he would not deal with that, might as well open a hatch and drown himself in the sea.Clearly you must have had some sort of wicked plan or perhaps just felt confident enough to make such a bold move, because now the surgeon wassitting across from you with his whole body shaking while you allowedyour hand to wander into the box every now and then to edge him on even further.

Oh you were going to pay dearly forthis, Law silently swore to himself while his eyes burned a hole into the bowlwith soup infront of him. Luckily the awkward lunch break didn’tlast too long either, and after a few small spoons of what he assumed to be simple cabbage water the young surgeon rosefrom the table to head into the direction of his room, but notbefore coldly staring at you once more and basically giving you the silent orderto come along. A small giggle escaped your tender lips as you stoodup as well and grabbed the box, which was already rumored to hold some sortof forbidden treasure by Shachi and Penguin, and quickly followedafter your boyfriend. However, much to your suprise, Law almost immediately seemed to vanish from your sight as you exited the kitchen to accompany him through the hallway- but with a simple shrug you carried on, humminghappily as you made your way into his large bedroom. Well, and fromthere on out things got… wild. again.

You barely managed to fully enter the room as thedoor already slammed shut behind you, and a cold hand quickly wrapped itself around yourwrist and basically pushed you against the wall. Upon looking up you came faceto face with your boyfriend, who was still gritting his teeth with aflushed expression dancing on his tired features. That sight alone already caused another giggle toescape from you as you tightly held onto the box- which was undoubtlythe thing Law was after, even if his eyes were locked on your face.

„I think you have something thatbelongs to me…“ was all he managed to get out, his voice sounding strained and hoarse as his hand slightly squeezed your wrist. But instead of giving in and ending this little game as well as his desperation, you decided to continueteasing him. „Mh… do I now? I think you’ll have toremind me,“ you pouted and blinked a few times to fakeignorance, but a moment later Law’s other hand slammed againstthe wall right next to your face, his expression furious as he slowlypressed himself against you in an attempt to keep you trapped between the wall and his body.

„Enough with the games, (Y/N)-ya,“the young man growled and lowered his gaze, seemingly prepared to just go ahead andgrab the box- but you were faster and quickly freed your hand from his grip andreached inside of it, giving its content a tight squeeze. Lawimmediately threw his head back as he started to hiss with unbearablepleasure and pain as you reminded him of who it was that had the upperhand.

„Your tone seems pretty pointed rightnow… why don’t you relax a bit~?“ you smirked and started to rub alonghis shaft again, which was already stuck in a constant state of hardness thanks toyour treatment. But of course you would always stop with touching it before Law couldactually come. All this pent up pleasure and the need to release made your boyfriend feel and look quite animalistic, after all he found himself close to losing itmultiple times throughout the day. But now that you were right there infront of him, enough was enough.

„AAAAH!!“ you suddenly started toshriek as your back rubbed against the wall- Law was nowlooming over you with his face only inches away from yours, and thehand that had previously grasped your wrist was now forcing its wayinto your pants, where it immediately started to rub against the fabric of yourpanties. And as expected, carrying his dick around all day did havean effect on you as well, which caused him to groan with relief. Now you weren’t exactly 'wet’, butLaw could clearly feel the heat that was radiating off of your core.Out of habit your hips started to grind against his coldhand, which immediately send a shiver down your spine as youtightened your grip around his manhood, forcing the surgeon release another loudgroan.

„Not so much fun getting roughenedup, right (Y/N)-ya?“ he growled and aggressively pinched your sensitive nub through your panties, which caused you to cry out in amix of pleasure and pain. „Hnnn… you…“ a disappointedwhimper left your lips as you paid him back by vigorously stroking along his shaft, but that only encouraged Law to rub against your still clothed entrance even faster.

„Whatever you do, now that I got you right here… I can pay you backeven worse,“ he whispered hoarsely and quickly pushed yourpanties aside to insert a single digit into your womanhood, causingyou to arch your back and press yourself against him with need. Truthto be told, having him treat you roughly like this after what you puthim through this day was actually exactly what you had anticipated,and the way Law looked at you, almost as if he was a feral beast…it was too much to handle. A loud moan escaped from your throat asyour hand held onto his arm while he continued to finger you, but unfortunately his mind wasn’t really as clouded as you had expected,and that small moment of carelessness from you was enough for Law to smirk ashe quickly pulled the box from you and almost jumped backwards, causinghis fingers to leave your hot womanhood in the process. „E-Eh…?“you blinked a few times as you noticed that the box as well as his hands and body were gone, and upon looking back at your boyfriend you couldn’t help butpout. Seems like your little game came to an early conclusion…

„Oh… not fair! You tricked me!“you huffed with faked anger as Law reached inside the box, seeminglyignoring you in the process, and pulled out his hard and erect cock. „Goddamn it, (Y/N)-ya…“ he hissedthrough clenched teeth as holding his manhood alone already send morepleasure down his body, but then a quick look at your squirming figure caused a light bulb to suddenly go off inhis mind as Law‘s eyes locked on you- or, more specifically- acertain spot between your legs…

Within the blink of an eye he waslooming over you again, his face cold and unmoving as he quicklypulled both your pants and panties down with one swift motion. „L-Law?“ you tilted your head tothe side as you reached out to wrap your arms around your boyfriendfor support, unsure on what he was going to do. I mean… judging byhis actions you’d assume that he was going to fuck you like usual, but… Hisdick was still not where it belonged, so what was he doing?!

„I bet you had a lot of fun doingthis last night, (Y/N)-ya… Too bad I can’t remember most of it, butperhaps this’ll help jog my memory…?“ he muttered and spreadyour legs with one hand while the other one was tightly holding ontohis still detached dick, now bringing it closer and closer to yourbo- oh. Was this it? Your eyes widened with shock as he suddenlyrammed his length inside of you, immediately causing your eyes to rollback with pleasure as he pulled it out again, only to slam it rightback in. You could feel his hot and ragged breathing as sweat randown Law’s browbone; his eyes were half-closed as he moved hisdick in and out of your dripping core at a fast pace. This was the sort of relief hewas seeking the whole day because of you and your ‘game’, and it didn’t matterwhether it was his hips or hands that allowed him to bury himself inside of yourdepths, he just needed to feel you. His hand speed up more and more as moan after moan rolled offyour tongue, your walls tightly clenched around him as the sight of Law fucking you with his detached dick only turned you on more and more.

Neither one of you was able to keep this going for long though, and after a few more powerful thrusts you felt your orgasm approaching- which caused Law to groan and lift one of your legs over his shoulder so hecould thrust in even deeper and fully bury himself in your warmth until he reached his climax and paintedyour insides white. His hand was keeping a tight hold on the base of his cock as his entire body began to shake, and a moment later you released a loud cry of your own to signal that you reached the edge as well.

Did he ever manage to fuck you that deep before…? Probably not, and as you tried to calm down yourbreathing your gaze wandered down to his now stained dick stillresting in his hand, which caused a small laugh to mix in with your panting. Your arms were still wrapped around his neck as you leaned forward topress a playful kiss to his warm cheek before whispering:

„So… are you all better? Then, can I have my little toy back now~?“

#y'all don't know how dirty I feel rn #i need jesus #one piece #trafalgar d water law #dirt #filth #op scenario #one piece scenario

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