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pseudowho · 23 days

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The Stacks

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

Stuck together on an all-night study session at the University library, you and your rival Higuruma Hiromi find you may have more in common than you thought...

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, rivals/enemies to lovers, breaking point smut, mild brat-taming/retribution, 'missionary so we can continue fighting'

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The twilight crept in-- but, while your fellow students were heading out for a night of drinks and debauchery, you walked under the evening-dappled willows, to the entrance of the library. You already knew it would be as quiet as the grave.

In the morning was your final, decisive Law exam; this was it. The culmination of years of effort. The final hurdle before the start of a glorious, prolific career. The recognition of yourself as the best Lawyer that your University had ever produced. And, with a curious, melancholy twinge of anger, the last time you would ever have to share a classroom with--

"You." Two voices rang out through the library entrance corridor; one disgusted, the other surprised. Higuruma Hiromi's hooked nose wrinkled at you, beetle-black eyes glinting as he straightened under a straining bag of books, to full height.

A taut moment of silence. Something in Hiromi's jaw clenched and unclenched rapidly, his foot tapping, and he looked aside. Looking back at you, his fury a thin veneer over a flicker of curiosity, he tensed to feel you sweep past him.

"I'm taking the Law section. You can grab some books, and fuck off to study somewhere else, Higuruma."

"Hey-- hey-- you can get fucked if you think you're taking over the place, sunshine--"

Hiromi prickled, rushing to catch up with you. You raced him, his long spidery legs easily putting him in front of you. Two sets of frantic footsteps running up the staircases, crashing and jostling-- "don't touch me!" "--stop it, you're a fucking menace--" "--not sitting with an arsehole like you all night--"

Hiromi and you approached the Law section at speed, a single plush sofa hidden away within circular stacked shelves, tables running between them like the spokes of a wheel. Hiromi shunted you aside at the last moment, slamming his bag on the couch with a satisfied hoot of success, turning to you with a grin and a twinkle in his eyes.

"Bastard!" You snapped, your hackles raised, and the twinkle in Hiromi's eyes dulled, replaced by tired disappointment as he looked away again, jaw twitching under your hateful gaze. Hiromi huffed, moving to empty his bag of textbooks and scattily-organised notebooks.

"Not like I'm going to stop you from studying here," Hiromi clipped, tense, "Lots of room. Didn't anyone ever teach you to share?" He teased, offering another wan smile. You rejected it categorically.

"I don't share with rats," you snapped, grabbing your bag and slamming it onto a nearby table. Hiromi was silent, tapping his fingers against his thigh, mouth puckering up into a bitter snipe.

"Yeah, well...let me know if you want to borrow my paper from the Spring term," Hiromi offered sarcastically, his anger burning low, "I know you didnt do so well on that one--"

"Shut up! My paper was perfect, it was--"

"--second best in the class?" Hiromi hissed air through his teeth, his crossed legs bouncing and jittery as he started to sort through notes, "Yeah, it's okay, I suppose...always room for improvement though, right?"

"Yeah, well..." You retaliated, stumbling over your words, "...you know where you can find a decent essay on Commercial Law, I know you struggle with it."

Hiromi ignored you, relaxed and not taking the bait. It pissed you off how effortless he found all of this, how he didn't have a competitive bone in his body...and all the while, you had toiled away blood, sweat and tears to get to the position you were.

You sat in stony silence for an hour, studying quietly. Any time you relaxed in his presence, you mentally snapped at yourself, not willing to concede one inch to such a snake--

A cup of coffee from the vending machine was dropped in front of you by one long-fingered, elegant hand. You looked up to see Hiromi loping away, warm and lackadaisical in his slim black jeans and Law school sweatshirt. You bristled. Hiromi sat on the sofa again, rolling his eyes as you pushed the coffee away from you with a huff, his own coffee hiding the hint of a smile on his lips and coal-ember eyes.

You tried to hide a yawn behind your hand. Between studying, and part-time bar work to pay your way, sleep was a rare resource. You knew no light in your life other than that from the candle you burned at both ends. Rubbing your eyes, your elbow slipped when you moved to rest it on the table. Your impeccably written flashcards hit the floor, scattering as you swore, kneeling to pick them up.

A few slow footsteps, and those long-fingered hands appeared in your vision again, helping to collect your flashcards with meticulous care. Your shoulders bunched up, and you snatched the pile of cards from Hiromi's hands when he offered them to you.

"Thank you," you begrudged. Hiromi remained on his haunches, hands clasped in front of him.

"Nice flashcards," he offered, and you bristled again, looking for insult, "want me to quiz you?"

"I can do it by myself," you snapped, turning to sit on your chair again, your back to him. You weren't sure if you heard Hiromi sigh.

"Suit yourself, misery guts." Hiromi moved back to the couch, not partaking in the bitter little competition he had never entered. As the clock ticked onwards, approaching midnight, the sky beyond the windows now an inky black, your brain began to fog. You caught yourself reading the same sentence again, and again, and again--

You heard a persistent little tapping. Hiromi had not looked up from his notes, but patted the spot on the sofa beside him in invitation.

"Come on," he pressed, soft and unyielding, "bring your flashcards over, and I'll quiz you. If we're here all night, we might as well be useful to each other."

Your resolve crumbled, despite your prickles of disgust towards Hiromi, and you picked up your lukewarm coffee and your flashcards to sit beside him. You hadn't realised how cold you were, until you felt the warmth of his thickly muscled thigh against yours. You shivered. Hiromi's gaze flicked up and down your body, his hangdog eyes impassively reading you.

He took off his sweatshirt in one fluid movement, holding it out to you. You pretended to ignore him, turning your face away with a pout. Hiromi scoffed. Momentarily, you squealed in indignation to feel his sweatshirt being pulled over your head, your arms being pushed through the sleeves like you were a child.

"Do as you're told," Hiromi chastised without venom, "and wear my fucking sweatshirt. You're cold." You swallowed, rendered speechless by his warmth, the soft notes of his shampoo, and, to your surprise, cologne.

"Did mummy buy you some nice perfume?" You jabbed, and you blushed as Hiromi surprised you with a laugh, deep, rich and genuine. Hiromi leaned across you, his face skirting so close to yours, on his way to reach for your flash cards. He moved his face even closer, his voice conspiratorial as you felt his warm, coffee'd breath over your lips.

"Mummy still thinks I'm some little boy."

You felt a shiver down your spine, feeling heat pool in your belly and pussy, before mentally shaking yourself. Higuruma Hiromi? You berated yourself internally, don't be so fucking ridiculous.

You had felt your eyes wander to him, early in your first year, his quiet confidence so magnetic. You had almost been pulled into his gravity. Then, he bested you in test, after test, after test, never seeming to break a sweat, being lauded as a prodigy, touted as the youngest Judge the Law school would ever see instated. It hadn't taken long for you to see him as the nuisance he was.

Then, he had done something unforgivably dirty, becoming a filthy little sellout, and your conviction in your opinion of him was solidified with brutal finality.

Your train of thought was interrupted by your coffee being pressed into your hands.

"Drink up," Hiromi urged, his tone broaching no argument, a wonky smile on his face which made your stomach somersault, "and get ready. I won't go easy on you."

And, he didn't. He grilled you mercilessly, becoming more and more thrilled as you snapped back each time with devastating precision and accuracy. The flashcards soon became secondary, and eventually discarded in favour of a soulful debate. The back and forth roared through you both like wildfire. You bounced off Hiromi's challenge with ease, his natural foil, and he took it all with a sultry delight that intoxicated you.

Your legs were entangled, now, facing each other on the sofa, and ribbing each other for all you were worth. You hadn't noticed how low your guard had dropped, until you saw how Hiromi looked at you, your wide sparkling smile, your twinkling eyes, your dimples. His square jaw leaned on one hand, his slim fingers stretching from chin to temple, one finger between his teeth, eyes dipped low and burning through you as he smiled. You gulped, feeling the fire warm you from head to foot.

"I'm, uhm..." you trembled, pushing your glasses up your nose as he raised his eyebrows, otherwise still as a panther in the rainforest, "...uhm...just going to get a snack...want anything?"

"...sure," Hiromi eventually answered, watching with mischief as you untangled your legs from his, "anything." You skittered past Hiromi, and it took everything in his power not to pull you to straddle his lap and see just how much he could steam up your glasses.

Turning the corner to the vending machine, you finally released the breath you had been holding. You fanned your face, pressing buttons, selecting a random assortment of snacks, and tapping your card to the card reader. Three little bleeps-- declined.

You felt a thread of panic. You checked your bank account with your heart in your throat...pennies. Literal pennies left to your name, until payday before the weekend. You now burned with shame, considering just leaving your books and bag and turning tail back to your apartment. Instead, with a furious blush over your cheeks, you headed back to the sofa, Hiromi looking at you curiously as you pulled a book onto your lap, empty-handed.

"Nothing decent," you lied, "sorry." Hiromi was silent; his gaze rendered you transparent in a way that was so unwelcome to you now. You felt a wash of relief as he stood up and walked away.

A few minutes later, Hiromi returned, gently placing a bag of crisps and a bar of chocolate down on the book on your lap. Tears of shame prickles in your eyes.

"You like these, right? I've seen you eat them before," Hiromi mused, gentle and casual. You pressed your eyes and lips shut, tears threatening to overspill.

"You didn't have to," you urged, your voice tight. Hiromi hummed to himself, taking a bite of his chocolate, and raising your chocolate bar to boop you softly on the nose.

"Big day tomorrow...today. You won't do well if you're hungry." A pause. "You work hard. It happens." You flooded with a sickening rush of gratitude, Hiromi's easy empathy almost washing away the shame.

"...thank-- thank you," you mumbled, fingers closing round his, your little heart thumping for him, as you accepted the chocolate bar. "I get paid on Friday, I'll pay you back--"

Hiromi scoffed, playful, "Don't worry about it. Just...buy the second round of drinks." You felt your stomach flip, your fingertips pressed over your mouthful of chocolate as you blushed. He was so casual about it. You couldn't see how his heart pounded in anticipation, awaiting certain rejection.

"...I...uhm...yeah. That sounds...that sounds...nice." Hiromi released the breath he'd been holding in a shaky, quiet whoosh. He felt the bridge of his aquiline nose redden. He tried to look surreptitious as he scooted closer to you on the sofa, pretending to choose a textbook.

The exam in the morning was now the furthest thing from Hiromi's mind. You shivered to feel the heat of his thigh against you again, and your fingers itched to reach out and feel the hot corded muscle of them. Hiromi wanted nothing more than to turn, pull your mouth to his, and share the taste of chocolate on each others' tongues. He was torn by indecision.

Shifting your legs, your textbook tumbled off to the side of you. You leaned back, reaching down to the floor, at the same time as Hiromi leaned over your body, his fingers stretching out, too. You found yourself suddenly bracketed by his lithe, long body, his arms either side of your head and his lap pressed to yours.

You stared up at Hiromi, like a little bunny rabbit, trapped. You reached one hand up to brush the black commas of hair off Hiromi's forehead and he shuddered, feeling his cock throb and fatten behind the zipper of his jeans. He leaned down towards you, pupils dilated, a pit of possessive thrill just above his aching length as he spoke, millimetres away from your lips.

"How long has this been almost happening for?" Hiromi pondered aloud, his cock thickening even faster as you squeaked, little hands gripping his biceps.

"Never," you challenged weakly, "it was never going to happen--"

"Yeah, right," he whispered, low and sarcastic, one hand looping behind your neck in preparation for fucking into your mouth with his tongue, "always the same shit with you--"

"-- it might have happened sooner if-- if you didn't sell yourself to that filthy company to become their corporate lawyer lapdog--"

Hiromi stiffened instantly, pulling away from you, your lips chasing his briefly in confusion. You blinked up at him, feeling so small as his face twisted in fury above you, his eyes incandescent with rage.

"I'm sorry-- what?" He snarled, climbing off of you and leaving you cold, confused, blinking.

"--you--you were scouted by that nasty finance company, right? And you accepted. Everybody said--"

Hiromi laughed, humourless, both of his hands cupping his nose and lower face as he leaned back into the sofa, staring at the ceiling, "Yeah? Everybody says, do they? You listen to everybody, do you?"

You felt a thread of dread run through you, the adrenaline of having almost been taken by Hiromi, now replaced with the adrenaline of confrontation. You felt a ruffle of indignation through you.

"I always thought you'd go that way," you asserted, doubling-down, rendered stupid by the need to win, "some little corporate rat for pay."

Hiromi's teeth clenched so hard, you heard the crunch, and you felt exactly how seriously you had fucked up. You gulped. You stood, brisk. You crammed books and flashcards into your bag, before moving to make a swift exit.

"--a--anyway. Good luck in the morning. Have a nice life."

You hurried away, towards the tightly packed bookshelves, at first hearing silence behind you, before the sudden rush of heavy footsteps chasing you and your heart in your mouth and--

You squealed, forcibly spun by one strong hand, your back slammed against the bookshelves. Books slipped and fell around your head, but none of them hit you; Hiromi barely winced as he craned over you, books tumbling off his head and shoulders while his arms blocked your exit. His hips pressing against your belly trapped you further, and you felt the erection you had left him with, straining against his jeans.

"You're smart, but you're such a fucking know it all," Hiromi spat, urging you to answer for your crimes by forcing eye-contact. You swallowed, heart fluttering between your legs, speechless.

"Oh, what? Now you shut up, huh?" Hiromi tsked, a wonky smile on his face, still twisted in anger as he laughed, humourless, into his shoulder.

"What the fuck did I ever do wrong?" Hiromi demanded, leaning down so the side of his hooked nose pressed against yours, your lips almost touching, "What did I do to make you hate me? So fucking competitive, you act like a total brat to the one guy who's good enough to keep up with you."

"Higuruma, I-- I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

"Oh, no no no," Hiromi whispered, nose still pressed to yours, his cock rigid and twitching against your belly, "Hiromi, please. Enemies are just as intimate as lovers, after all." You shuddered, and Hiromi felt a drip of pre-cum soak his boxers, to see you finally yielding beneath him, and in his sweatshirt no less.

"...I did accept a job, obviously," Hiromi sniped, watching the colour drain from your face as he told you, "...at the Public Defence Office...you gullible little tart."

"...but if you think I'm such a bad person, how about I fuck you like one, hmm?" Hiromi drank down your squeak with a nose-crinkling grin, before crashing his lips to yours, moaning with relief into your gasping, warm mouth. The tension snapped in you, brittle under Hiromi's righteous rage, and you tangled your arms around his neck, pressing your body flat against his, in a kiss that was three years in the making.

"--oh, fuck yes-- fucking pain in my ass-- hate me all you like, still better than being ignored by you--" Hiromi nipped your bottom lip between his teeth, before sucking it between his, soothing the sting. You could feel how he shook with restraint, wanting retribution for years of ill-treatment. In a fleeting moment of shame-faced acceptance, as Hiromi laid claim to your neck, you realised you absolutely deserved it.

Hiromi marked your neck, sucking with his teeth and lips, raking the neckline of his sweatshirt down to do the same to your collarbones with a sandy moan. He scooped his arms under your thighs, lifting you against him, carrying you back to the sofa where he fell back, forcing you to straddle him. The sudden jolt of your clothed aching pussy against his cock made you both moan, and Hiromi bucked his cock up against you instinctively.

Feeling Hiromi's gaze burning into you again, you blushed, looking aside and sheepish. He reached up, tangling one hand roughly into your hair, tilting your head to the side, examining the lovebites down your neck with a shudder.

"You-- you're such a dickhead-- always came so fucking easy to you--" You whined at Hiromi, blushing as he laughed, his hand snaking under the sweatshirt to cup your breast with a groan of satisfaction.

"Fuck off," Hiromi scoffed, "fucking easy-- you treat me like scum, and you think I'm going to let you see me struggle? Please. Been fighting me for three years when you should have been fucking me instead."

Hiromi scooped your tank top and bra down beneath the sweatshirt, doing the same with his other hand, taking both of your breasts between his long, kneading fingers as he rutted his aching cock up into you.

"So go on then, if you're so clever...fuck me with your clothes on." You whimpered above him, feeling both of your nipples rolled insistently between his thumbs and forefingers. Your skirt had rucked up around your hips, and Hiromi swore under his breath to feel your arousal soak through his jeans, onto his cock.

He bucked up against your pussy again, and you mewled as shockwaves ran through your clit. Hiromi's fingers dug into your breasts, squeezing them with barely-contained need. You did as you were told, and hooked your panties aside, your pussy now flush against Hiromi's concealed length, and began to ride the underside of his weeping cock.

Hiromi threw his head back with a hiss, "Good girl-- not such a brat, now you're doing as you're told..." Hiromi bit his lip, moaning unashamedly to feel you hump yourself to orgasm against him. Despite his punishment of you, he already longed for you to fight back. He bucked his hips into you in challenge, thrilled when you planted your hands on his belly, your breasts squeezed together in his hands beneath the sweatshirt.

"--bet you're-- bet you're really fucking pleased with yourself--" You blushed, tears glittering bitterly in your eyes, moaning into Hiromi's mouth as he laughed again, kissing the pout off your face.

"I am, actually," he gasped, tweaking your nipples hard enough to make you whimper, "--gonna cum on my jeans, huh? Shit...don't know-- you never knew-- so fucking beautiful when you're being mean to me--'

Your thighs burned with the effort of rubbing your pussy against Hiromi, but you felt your orgasm building with the rough friction of Hiromi's trapped, twitching cock. Hiromi helped you, rutting up into you, staring at where your lap joined his, his face twisted into a feral snarl.

"--cum on me-- cum on me...shit, I need it, need to see your face when you finish...come on sweetheart--"

Hiromi's insistent growls send you tumbling over the edge, and you came with the sweetest cries Hiromi had ever heard. He watched you convulse and twist above him, his fingers still rolling over your sore nipples, his pupils blown with lust, teeth clenched with the effort of not spilling in his boxers. Hiromi rutted slowly into you, guiding through the haze of your pleasure until you came back to him, glassy-eyed and supple.

Hiromi released your breasts, flipping you over so your arse was on the edge of the sofa, with you on your back. Kneeling, Hiromi positioned himself between your thighs, one hand squeezing the plush of them, while his other pushed the sweatshirt up, his tongue drawing circles on your belly. You tangled your fingers into his hair, tugging until he moaned into your skin. His mouth travelled downwards, dipping beneath your skirt.

"Want to taste you," Hiromi insisted, yanking your panties down your legs, balling them up and shoving them into his back pocket. You opened your mouth to object, suddenly self-conscious. Hiromi growled at you, squeezing your nipple again until you keened at him, high and whimpering.

"Just shut up, and let me taste you," he growled, nuzzling his nose between your folds in an instant, rubbing it harshly from side to side over your sore, abused clit. You clapped a hand over your mouth to hold back the scream. Hiromi reached up, tugging your hand away and gripping them both together on your belly, "and hear you."

Hiromi swore into your cunt, lost in the taste of you, licking quick little flicks over your clit, in a way that filled your head with stars. Your thighs trembled, and you babbled Hiromi's name, watching with fascination as Hiromi unzipped himself, pulling his fat, heavy cock into his hand. He began to stroke himself with wet little plap plap plaps, soaking your pussy with his spit in preparation for sinking himself between your folds.

"Hiromi I-- right there god yes keep going with your nose I love it-- so good, I-- gonna cum, Hiromi--"

The last syllable of his name was dragged out in a sobbing cry. Hearing you whimpering and begging him as his nose and tongue fucked you through the waves of bliss, was worth all these years of your miserable torture, Hiromi thought lightly.

You blushed deeply as Hiromi came up for air, his gleeful face glistening with your cum. He grabbed you by the hips, yanking you so they almost fell off the sofa at an angle you knew would have you twisting against him.

Hiromi grasped his red tipped cock, and you drank it in hungrily; its pretty upward curve, three thick veins running down its length, the thick jet-black hair trailing down his belly. You felt your mouth water, and Hiromi was hyperfocused, sliding his cockhead up and down your folds with hooded eyes, sloppy and pussy-drunk.

"...fuck...I can't wait-- sorry, I--" Hiromi sheathed his length inside your slippy cunt in one slick thrust, whimpering and gripping you to him with dimpled fingerprints, "-- I can't wait any-- ahhh shit, so tight...squeeze my cock, c'mon--"

You didn't need to be told, clenching involuntarily as Hiromi completely impaled you on his cock. Hiromi gasped and cursed, yanking his t-shirt up and gripping it between his teeth, so he could stare down at where his cock sunk into you unhindered.

He fucked into you, slow and smooth, eyes flitting between your fucked-out face, your hands clawing at the sofa, and his cock pushing through your tight walls, its sweet upward curve dragging harshly against your spongy sensitive spot, nudging into your cervix and belly. Hiromi rolled his thumb around your clit, pinching the fatty flesh around it, gently pleasuring you to feel the way your walls fluttered and gripped him.

You locked your ankles around Hiromi's lower back, dragging an animalistic growl out of him. Hiromi stood bringing your hips with him, holding you by the thighs as he planted one hand on the sofa above your head, and upped his pace, fucking into you with messy abandon.

Watching your glasses bounce in time with your tits as he rammed into you, stoked a competitive urge in Hiromi, and he cursed, spitting venom as he upped his pace again. You arched involuntarily, feeling him fill you with such ragged fucks, that you forget where you were, clenching and whining around him.

You felt a fire, deep in the pit of your belly, watching Hiromi with absolute awe as he chased his orgasm, using your body as a cock sleeve with total reverence. Every muscle in his body twitched with effort, and you felt his cock twitching within you as he moaned and cursed. You clenched your pussy deliberately around his length, and Hiromi almost fell apart, his fingernails leaving crescents in the smooth leather of the sofa, his face twisted in anguished ecstasy.

"--so long waited so long-- shhhhit, ugh, s-so tight-- wet, fffuck...squeeze me agai-- oh fuck yes, cumming, I-- I--"

Hiromi broke off into strangled, desperate strings of moans, spurting hot, thick glugs of cum against your cervix. Hiromi continued to pinch and roll around your clit, and you felt yourself judder weakly as you came again, Hiromi gasping as your wet, velvety walls sucked the last spurts of seed from him.

Hiromi dropped to his knees, weak, still plugged inside you, gasping. He dropped his head onto your belly, grinning at the feel of your fingers sinking into his hair, holding him to you. A few sweet moments of companionable silence.

"...still gonna beat you in the morning, though."

Hiromi laughed into your plush belly, biting the soft skin there until you squealed, hearing him mumble against his sweatshirt.

"You wish."

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universalitgirlsblog2 · 3 months

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👛🖤SELF-CONCEPT👛🖤

CONTENTS OF THE POST

- MEANING OF SELF CONCEPT

- IS IT NECESSARY TO MANIFEST ?

- HOW TO IMPROVE IT ?

- SELF CONCEPT AFFIRMATIONS

- QUOTES ON SELF CONCEPT BY NEVILLE GODDARD

👛MEANING OF SELF CONCEPT

The way we perceive ourselves and the ideas we hold about our competencies and attributes is called self-concept. ( This definition is from my psychology textbook but it described self concept really well )

🖤IS IT NECESSARY TO MANIFEST ?

Self concept is not necessary when it comes to manifesting but it is very helpful and it does make manifesting more simple and easy.

👛HOW TO IMPROVE IT ?

💞Affirm !! Affirm and saturate your mind with those affirmations. The best way to reprogram your subconscious is through REPETITION. The more you repeat a thought / affirmation , the more dominant it will become.

👡Never underestimate the power of music. If you go on a spotify , just search self concept or confidence or that girl playlist & you will find so many songs which are filled with powerful and positive affirmations. Artists like Nicki Minaj , Le sserafim , Ariana Grande always include powerful affirmations in their songs. Listening to their songs enhanced my self concept.

💞Find a role model! Refer to my post on self concept icons , there are three parts in total . Click here - 1, 2 , 3. Suppose you want a self concept like Blair Waldorf , you can use her effect affirmations and a playlist dedicated to Blair and her vibes. Or maybe your self concept icon is Song Jia ? Then use affirmations based on her and listen to playlists dedicated to her. I have made affirmations for Jia too !! Your self concept icon can be anyone !!!! If you go on spotify and just search Blair , Regina, Song Jia or Thewizardliz etc you will find alot of playlists dedicated to them.

👡Create an alter ego and start acting like her . YOU ARE HER NOW !!! STOP IDENTIFYING WITH YOUR OLD SELF WHO HAD POOR SELFCONCEPT. THAT VERSION DOESN'T EXIST ANYMORE.

💞Already assume that you have a perfect self concept . Don't give the old story any attention or don't waste your energy on your old self. Stop affirming how you have a " bad " self concept and need to work on it. Just assume that you have a perfect self concept already.

👡Mental diet can do wonders. Whenever you have a thought that doesn't align with your perfect self concept. Ask yourself , "Does this thought align with my perfect self concept?" . If the answer is no , then reject it. Become aware of your thoughts and only entertain productive and useful thoughts. Have a positive SELF TALK

💞Realize how powerful you are. You control your reality. You tell your reality/ 3D what to do. Your circumstances , 3D or reality doesn't control you, you control them. Your inner world creates the outer world. Stop victimizing yourself. You are the main character and director of your life. Start acting like it.

Self concept work is supposed to be easy and fun . Don't complicate it.

🖤SELF CONCEPT AFFIRMATIONS

I have a strong and empowering self concept .

I am the creator of my reality

I control how my life unfolds

Everything always works out to my advantage

Circumstances and things are always rigged in my favor

I deserve the best in every area of my life

I am the girl who has it all

I am the It girl of my reality

Nothing is impossible in my world

I am good at everything

I am a master manifestor

I am the best

I am loved and valued

I am wanted by everyone

I am the prize

The world is my oyster

I am successful at everything I do

I have Lucky girl/ boy syndrome

I am the universe’s favorite child, so all my needs and wants are always met, instantaneously

I am powerful beyond limits

I am fearless, unstoppable , invincible and antifragile

I am the one with all the health, wealth, and happiness in the world.

I have a perfect self concept

I can maintain a good mental diet easily.

I am aware of my thoughts

I only think useful and productive thoughts

I am completely in love with myself

I always get what I want

I don't chase , i attract

I am a priority , queen / king , and chosen.

👛QUOTES ON SELF CONCEPT BY NEVILLE GODDARD

"Your opinion of yourself is your most important viewpoint. You are infinitely greater than you think you are.”

“Change your conception of yourself and you will automatically change the world in which you live. Do not try to change people; they are only messengers telling you who you are. Revalue yourself and they will confirm the change.”

“Stop trying to change the world since it is only the mirror. Man’s attempt to change the world by force is as fruitless as breaking a mirror in the hope of changing his face. Leave the mirror and change your face. Leave the world alone and change your conceptions of yourself. The reflection then will be satisfactory.”

“To reach a higher level of being, you must assume a higher concept of yourself."

“I AM wealthy, poor, healthy, sick, free, confined were first of all impressions or conditions felt before they became visible expressions. Your world is your consciousness objectified. Waste no time trying to change the outside; change the within or the impression; and the without or expression will take care of itself. When the truth of this statement dawns upon you, you will know that you have found the lost word or the key to every door. I AM (your consciousness) is the magical lost word which was made flesh in the likeness of that which you are conscious of being.”

"Everything depends upon our attitude towards ourselves. That which we will not affirm as true of ourselves cannot develop in our life.”

"Our present mental conversations do not recede into the past, they advance into the future to confront us as wasted or invested words.”

"The individual’s inner speech and actions attract the conditions of his life.”

“Nothing is impossible to you.”

“Live your life in a sublime spirit of confidence and determination.”

“The world cannot change until you change your conception of it. 'As within so without'.”

"" The part you play on the world's stage is determined by your conception of yourself ."

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jade-len · 4 months

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i adore how mxtx sorta flipped the idea on the whole top/bottom thing with svsss, and just BL relationships in general.

making bingqiu very open to switching, not making the "bottom" super feminine and actually leaning more to the handsome side compared to the "top", how luo binghe is manipulative sensitive and cries easily, etc. one of the main themes in svsss is literally about sexuality (and possibly even about gender roles).

as a queer asian man myself, i absolutely despise the "yaoi archetype" and it was one of the reasons why i avoided consuming BL media. hell, years ago when i first saw heavens official blessing, i mentally groaned and went, "ugh, let me guess, the bottom is super feminine and innocent, while the top is masculine and experienced." of course, that's not the case now, but it's disappointing how that thought was there purely because of the god awful way fetish-y media portrays homosexual people and couples. because, believe it or not, we are not assigned male/female typical gender roles just because one likes to top/bottom (and even then, it's not even like that! some people have preferences, sure, but it's not so strictly "i'm top/bottom")

so, while i absolutely LOVE the english novel designs (especially luo binghe's cute curly hair, gongyi xiao, etc, and personally believe a lot of the takes from the western artist on the designs are an improvement), i am greatly saddened by people subconsciously assigning shen qingqiu as someone more delicate and feminine and luo binghe as someone super masculine and muscly. like, if you're going to have luo binghe depicted as the western design (i believe this stems from binghe being applied to more western ideals for men, and, admittedly, i actually really love his design), at least don't make shen qingqiu feminine and delicate? don't have his appearance play into the stupid yaoi thing?

i get that people have different takes on svsss, especially how the western version depicts it. but, people just... seem to very over exaggerate the top/bottom roles when it comes to bingqiu (again, these two are, canonically, VERY open to switching).

it's weird, it's uncomfortable, and it comes across as, "so, who wears the pants in the relationship?"

so, can we please have more canonically handsome shen qingqiu? canonically beautiful and pretty boy luo binghe (they literallly state that binghe looks EXACTLY like his mom, su xiyan! while a more handsome woman, is still very beautiful!! plus it is stated several times that binghe is slim, and that shang qinghua made him that way!) or at the very least, a BL couple who actually look like normal people (ok thats a little hard considering binghe is literally supposed to be perfect) and not just a stupid fetishized version of themselves.

and no, i'm not saying that queer men shouldn't be feminine or men who are feminine shouldn't be in a relationship with guys who are masculine, etc.

TLDR: please stop twinkifying shen qingqiu and going against what mxtx defied for us queer men (the stupid yaoi roles). and for the love of whoever you believe in, do NOT think that i hate the english design or people's personal interpretation of characters, i just hate the subconscious assigning of gender roles to bingqiu and how media portrays and fetishizes LGBTQ+ relationships in general.

edit: also i love teardrew's (check them out on twitter!) interpretation of shang qinghua. while i do really like the the eng novel design's tiny scared hamster vibes, teardrew's version just radiates "up to no good, paranoid but suspicious looking bitch" rat man and i love it so so so much. i'm not gonna repost their art bc i don't know how they feel about that but perhaps you can search up "svsss designs" on here, you'll see it pop up eventually lol.

edit 2 (1/16): i just saw someone reblog a post (that im pretty sure was referring to this one because, well, if you saw it i think it'd be a little clear kahxj) that was about how bingqiu switching and completely eschewing traditional top/bottom dynamics was a fandom idea or smth? so now i'm wondering, since i swear i remember that they were open to switching, but it's just that sqq preferred to bottom and/or was just a little too lazy to top. plus, sqq is a pretty unreliable narrator who says he doesn't want something one moment and then he does. how could he say no to bingbing? esp if he seems to wanna try bottoming too. perhaps i'm mixing things up though, idk? so if anyone can find that passage that says he only and strictly wants to bottom or whatever please show me! but i think the point of this post still stands haha (i wanted to ask about it, actually, but when i clicked on the og post's user it turned out that they blocked me ? so that was a little surprising oops. hey if ur somehow reading this, im... sorry for making you want to block me bc of this post? akdhxjj)

#JOIN THE 'STOP TWINKIFYING SQQ' GROUP #did i make sense? i have no clue i just wanted to rant about this #i really pulled a cucumber bro there huh #this also applies to GL #thinking about it more #there should be trans men and women bl and gl #and not in a fetishy way #of course luo binghe is still the big strong protag and taller than sqq but come on #i dont believe luo binghe is a twink exactly?? maybe?? but just feminine in a historical chinese male ideals way #for edit 2:#i was just saying how it made me happy that mxtx didn't follow the yaoi archetypes and how i lov her for it <3 #never said bingqiu was never done before and COMPLETELY flipped it over skdhjx #but i do believe that bingqiu did a good job providing variety and such :)#same goes for mxtx's other works as well i love her stuff sm #svsss #mxtx svsss #the scum villain's self saving system #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #luo bingge #shen yuan #luo bingmei #bingqiu #luo binghe x shen qingqiu #danmei

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loverofpiggies · 1 year

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IT’S POWER, EVERYONE!!!

Check out my etsy shop

If you want to see how I made this piece, check out the extended stuff below!

Okay, the story behind this piece is nuts, but. I’ve known I’ve needed to work on improving my art for a while, so as you can tell from all the newest pieces, I’ve been trying to push myself. It started like this:

This was actually the fourth sketch I made. I knew I wanted Power to be looking down at us (you know, what she does with everyone), and I wanted to have her swinging a blood scythe in one way or another. I set up composition lines, but the more I looked at the sketch, the more frustrated I got. I finally just had to accept my anatomy and my 3d understanding of the body is very much lacking, and If I wanted to improve I had to work on something.

I watched a bunch of tutorial videos, and decided to try out the 3D model in Clip Studio paint. It didn’t take too long to learn how to manipulate the model, and I came up with this:

From here, I decided to do my quick sketch with Power

While I was experimenting with Clip studio’s art stuff, I decided to try playing around with their new “Shade Assist”. I figured it could give me some more ideas to make my shadows feel more ‘real’ or have me look at my art in a different way. Once I finished the lineart, got the color in there, and drew in Meowy, this is what I tried.

I really loved how the ‘evening’ mode of shade assist looked, even after playing around with my own colors, but I liked how it gave her a slightly more ‘yellow’ tone, and how the shadows were actually just lavender and light pink. So I took those colors, and worked on the shadows.

From there, I made the background layer. I used one of the Clip Studio gradient pre-sets, the ‘evening’ one, and painted a texture on top of it to have it match more with the textured painting style I went with. I added blood splatters, and ‘rectangles’ in the background, just to have more things visually going on.

On top of all of that, I added another layer on top of Power herself, with a very slight tone color of the gradient behind her, to make her and the background feel like they’re supposed to be together. And that’s it!!

I’m really happy with this so I wanted to explain my process. Looking around at tutorials on youtube, talking to artist friends who- tbh, are WAY more knowledgeable then me, helped a ton. And using the 3d model helped visualize the body, and different angles, WAY better then anything else I could find.

So uhhh thank you, and enjoy!

#chainsaw man #power #meowy #power and meowy #cqart #fanart

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giorno-plays-piano · 8 months

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Metamorph

Part III

Pairing: art teacher!Aemond Targaryen x reader (Horror AU)

Warnings: dark!Aemond, obsessive behavior, murder, horror, yandere, kidnapping, misanthropy, general creepy stuff.

Words: 1.1k

Summary: Drawn to the artworks of one of the most esteemed artists in the city, you wish to learn from him and find out what inspires him to create his masterpieces. You have no idea how much his secrets will cost you.

Part I | Part II

____________

You clenched your fancy Kohinoor pencil between your fingers like it's a gun, staring at Aemond already posing in front of all of you. No procrastination, you reminded yourself firmly as you drew a long vertical line across the paper to balance the future drawing. Your teacher hadn't berated you for your mistakes even once. It'd be fine if you got this one wrong, too. Anything was better than an empty sheet.

God, but Aemond was so pretty. His high cheekbones, his strong nose and jaw, and those thin but expressive lips, the long scar across the left side of his face...

You quickly hid behind your easel.

Breathe. Just get out of your head, you repeated to yourself Aemond's very words. You needed to get started, and whatever happened next didn't matter as long as you allowed yourself to draw whatever came to your mind. Explanations and logic be damned. You were an artist! At these rare moments, you were supposed to feel, not think.

Slowly inhaling and exhaling to keep your anxiety at bay, you uncleched the pencil in your fingers and slowly started shaping the figure on a sheet. It's fine. Aemond wouldn't get mad anyway as long as you did what he said.

The more you put your pencil to the sheet, the easier it was getting, something unfurling in your chest, putting a stop to your anxious thoughts and fears of failure as you continued to build Aemond's body, starting to get into details once you finished with the primary form. Regardless of his talent and uniqueness as an artist, he was still only a fellow human being like you. There was no need to magnify his power.

By the time Aemond walked over to you, you were almost finished with the painting, landing the last strokes to color the palms of the man on the sheet. It was that very red paint you had been mooning over for many months, complimenting its unusual vibrant color and a pleasant consistency. It was hard to believe you were now using it for your own artwork, but time was running out, and you didn't have a spare moment to be drooling over the paint.

"What do we have here?" The artist hummed, making you jump in your seat. How on Earth did he manage to walk so quietly in a room full of tables, chairs, and people?

Trying to focus on his question, you suddenly realized you had no clue how to present your idea to the teacher. Did you even draw what he had asked you to? What was that, not changing the silhouette and using mainly paint to express yourself or something?

You felt the beads of sweat promptly forming on your forehead as you clenched your jaw.

"You've been improving," Aemond told you, eye on the drawing as he tilted his head to the side. "Body proportions seem right, and I like the way you shaped the arms and legs. You had difficulties with them before."

Oh, really? You surely had problems drawing arms, but you didn't notice you were becoming better. A pleasant surprise. Not that one wouldn't expect to improve after taking lessons from the most esteemed artist in the city.

"Why did you paint the head and hands in red?"

Oh, crap. Why did you? You frantically searched for an answer other than "no idea, Sir, I think my subconsciousness just took over my body." Shifting in your seat uncomfortably, you looked up to Aemond bent over, intently studying your artwork.

Cautiously, you muttered, "I-I think every change starts from the head, Sir."

Would that qualify for an answer? But Aemond quickly directed his gaze at you and demanded, "And hands?"

Biting your poor lip that no amont of lip balm was going to save after today's lesson, you mumbled, "Hands are the tool that make the change happen, Sir."

"Very logical, yes. Now, forget about trying to give me a logical answer and tell me what you felt when you were drawing this. Tell me about the paint."

He bent over even closer to you, practically breathing into your face, and you almost lost the ability to produce any adequate sounds. Your teacher clearly saw through your bullshit, and the thought that he was upset or even mad at you made you feel miserable.

"It's a metamorph, Sir," you whispered, one step closer to having a panic attack and hoping no student in the room was listening to your rambling, "and red is a color of life. Of change."

Aemond cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at you. "Why do you think red is the color of change? Is it because the change scares you?"

"It's not the change itself that scares me. It's what the metamorph is becoming, Sir," you uttered in a small voice and then added even quieter, praying only Aemond could hear you, "I think- I think he's turning into something violent, Sir. Something terrifying."

It took you a second to recognize what you've just said and what reaction it has provoked.

All of a sudden, you were staring in the face of Aemond Targaryen with his thin lips stretched so wide in a smile that it was even a little creepy. Was he... content? Did he want to laugh at your silly attempt to explain your feelings when you'd been drawing? You wouldn't even be offended, to be fair. It sounded like nonsense to you, too.

But no, he didn't seem to find it funny. Instead, you felt his palm squeezing your shoulder firmly, his smile unwavering as he spoke to you in a hushed voice the way you'd been answering to him, "Very good. My favorite artwork today so far."

As he got up, moving to the next student on your left, you were ready to jump and run away from the studio because, clearly, you were going to burst from the excess of feelings and anxiety in the next five seconds. Your teacher said it was his favorite painting today. This banal, lacking in originality in its every aspect thing was his favorite. When blood rushed to your head, making you sweat and feel disoriented, you clutched the brush between your fingers, squeezing your eyes shut.

Aemond Targaryen liked your painting. Despite being the very inspiration for the beautiful but horrifying metamorph, he actually had some sort of fondness for it because later, before you left, he actually asked you to allow him to keep the artwork for his own collection. Why did he like it so much? You had no idea.

_________

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #the house of the dragon #yandere

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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 10 months

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Law x Marco x f!reader threesome drabble

So I'm completely up for doing a gn!reader or m!reader version of this.

Tw's: modern au!, reader spit roasted (marco behind, law in front), law has a pierced dick and tongue, dom!marco, switch!law, sub!reader, lawxmarco action, they wear condoms bc they're doctors.

Not that it's really important but I wrote it with these roles in mind: Surgeon!law, General practitioner! Marco, Physical Therapist! reader

OF COURSE ALL CREDIT TO ARTIST (signature on Law's thigh but I can't quite read it)

It was supposed to be a learning experience- a medical convention. One where you would make some connections with doctors to find out how you could improve your own practice. You'd learn about new surgeries that were being performed, and how your job would tie into the rehabilitation of the patients. Yet here you were, being used like the whore you were. You were spit roasted between two doctors you'd gotten friendly with at the convention, and had been hanging out with all day.

"Focus on me, sweetheart" a deep, raspy voice clouded by pleasure whispered above you, and you arched your back slightly so you could look up at him while he fucked your mouth. The angle sent the cock in your pussy pounding into your g-spot and you moaned at the pleasure, eyes rolling slightly. Tattooed hands cupped your jaw gently, thrusting harshly to the back of your throat. You gagged around his cock, and your gaze found his amber eyes. He was breathing heavily, tanned cheeks flushed with lust and the heat of the room. You sucked in your cheeks as he pulled out, as if trying to draw out his cum. He gritted his teeth, snapping his hips slightly as you jolted forward from a particularly hard thrust from behind you. A large, muscled body curled over your shaking form.

"Now now, he's not the one fucking this tight lil pussy, is he? Focus on me, yoi~" The other man murmured in your ear, running a tongue up the shell of it. He moaned quietly, gripping your ass as he continued his thrusts. You were overwhelmed, tears beginning to drip down your face as you desperately tried to focus on swirling your tongue around the pierced cock as it pistoned in and out of your mouth. It was so much. You were so close to cumming, you just needed a little more.

Your fluttering pussy and shaking thighs must have sent the message to the doctor behind you, and he curled his arm around your hip and began playing with your clit. White hot pleasure shot through your veins, gripping his dick in a vice with your pussy and moaning loudly. Strong fingers gripped your jaw in one hand, forcing it open. Your tongue lolled out, eyes rolled back in your head.

"F-fuck! shit! So tight!"

"I'm gonna cum just from the look on her face! Shit!"

You felt the Jacobs Ladder piercings rub against your tongue as his hips stuttered, and he pulled out to let his cum land on your cheeks and tongue.

A few more quick snaps of hips behind you had the doctor groaning through clenched teeth as he emptied himself in the condom choking his cock. His fingers rubbed your clit harder as he orgasmed, and it sent you to a higher plane of pleasure, and you felt yourself wet the bed.

You slowly came down from your high, a softening cock still buried in your soaking cunt and tattooed hands cradling your face gently, a thumb stroking over your left eye brow. You swallowed the cum in your mouth, barely focusing on the man in front of you.

"You with us?"

You nodded, panting hard. You collapsed onto the bed, the doctor's softening cock slipping out easily. You heard a deep chuckle behind you.

"We'll let you rest before the next round, lil birdie"

You felt some shuffling, but you were too fucked out to think much of it. It was only when you heard some wet smacking did you realize what was happening. Your eyes opened, landing on the beautiful site of the surgeon and doctor making out while Law's hole was worked open with the doctor's long fingers. Law was on his back, hands held above his head by Marco. You reached out unthinkingly, twining your fingers with both doctors.

"Keep him there for me, okay lil birdie?" Marco asked you with a smirk. You nodded tiredly, but scooted forward to kiss the surgeon while Marco kissed down his tattooed body. You felt Law jolt under you suddenly, and you gripped his hands tighter.

"Right there huh?" Marco chuckled. Law looked to the side, a blush adorning his cheeks. Cute. You went to work on his scruffy jaw and down his neck, painting purples and reds with your lips.

"You gonna answer him?" you teased. Law bit his lip, but you surged forward with a kiss, licking it from between his teeth. Your tongue found his, tracing the little steel ball that was present. You glanced back at Marco, who gave you a smug grin. You could see his forearm flex as he obviously hit Law's prostate.

"Ah!~ fuck! yes right there!" Law finally cried out.

"Sit on his face, pretty girl. Doctor's orders" Marco commanded teasingly. You shuffled forward, hesitantly straddling the surgeon's face, leaning forward slightly to keep his hands still. His fingers had shifted to thread between yours.

"Down"

You lowered yourself, hovering above his face, unwilling to suffocate the surgeon between your thighs. Law's eyes bored into yours, and he snatched his hands from yours, resting on the fat of your ass.

"He said sit." He said gruffly. He yanked you down, off balance and resting your entire weight on his face. You immediately tried to hover again, but his grip wouldn't let up. His tongue began licking your clit before dragging down to taste around your hole before tongue fucking you. His tongue piercing felt amazing. He used your slick along with his saliva, slurping as he flicked his piercing over your clit, sending you yelping and arching your back in pleasure. Your hands ended up resting on the surgeon's hip bones. Marco took the opportunity to remove his fingers from Law and tipped your head back to kiss you messily.

You could only moan, feeling your climax building. His tongue traced patterns on your clit, hurtling you towards your orgasm before dipping back into your cunt to keep you on the edge. Marco released your lips, and you saw his arm move. Law grunted into your soaked cunt, stuttering in his pattern as Marco put a condom on him.

"Make her cum like a good boy" he ordered. Law moaned, and immediately started devouring your cunt like his life depended on it. His tongue flicked and rolled over your clit, bringing you hurtling over the edge with a scream. As your thighs tensed and spasmed, Law kept you in place. He only eased his onslaught when you tapped his hip with your hand, and he let you slide back to fall sideways onto the bed. You sprawled on your back, trying to suck in enough oxygen to ease the black spots dancing in your vision.

"Lemme taste her" Marco muttered. Your eyes flicked over to him, fearful he would overstimulate your poor pussy, but he simply cradled Law's jaw and licked inside his mouth. He traced kisses over the wet part of the surgeon's face, ending with a nibble to his earlobe.

"Delicious. Now get on your hands and knees, over our girl-yoi."

Law sent the older doctor a withering look, but still followed orders, knowing that only mind-blowing pleasure would follow. Marco knelt behind him, lining himself up with his puckered hole he had stretched earlier.

"Wanna be fucked again, sweetheart?" Law asked, already panting with anticipation. A smirk curled his lip on one side, and the look sent your heart fluttering and heat pooling in your abdomen. You nodded, spreading your legs for him. One hand guided a thigh to press against your tummy, and you followed shyly with the other. Your calves were on his shoulders, and you felt utterly helpless.

"Good. It'll be my cock, but his rhythm. Ready?"

Your eyes widened in understanding, slick beginning to pool in your pussy again.

"I need you to be good and say it nice and loud, birdie" Marco's head peeked over Law's shoulder. You gulped, unsure of what you did in this life to be so blessed with this night.

"I-I wan-want to do it" you said, loud enough for Marco to hear. A sly grin curved the doctor's lips, and Law's brow furrowed as he started panting harder. Your eyes flicked down, only able to see Law's hard length between your thighs, but you knew Marco had started to enter Law.

"Sh-shit you're big" the surgeon muttered as he gritted his teeth. Marco placed a gentle kiss on Law's shoulder.

"What did you want to do, babe? Did you want to get fucked by Law's cock while I fuck his tight little ass?"

You nodded profusely, and Law groaned in embarrassment at the crude language while he was penetrated even deeper.

"Then say it."

Shame had no place in your mind anymore, not like this. Your lust-glazed eyes met Marco's steadily.

"I want Law's cock in my pussy while you fuck his ass, Marco please!"

"Good job, lil birdie-yoi~"

His dexterous fingers reached around Law's hip and lined him up with your dripping hole, using his last thrust to get balls deep in Law to sheath Law's pierced cock completely into you. The column of piercings on the underside of his dick added bumps and ridges that amplified the sensitivity of your hole, and you moaned.

Law sounded like he was almost in pain, grunting and panting loudly above you. Marco wasn't moving yet, but he was about to bust.

"Sh-shit. You're so tight. You're so deep" he addressed the both of you, his praises beginning to slur together.

Marco took another few moments, massaging Law's lower back. You took the moments to breathe, letting your fluttering cunt get used to the sensation of his piercings through the condom. You admired Law's face, brow scrunched with pleasure, eyes shut in focus to not cum immediately, and his kiss-swollen lips shining with spit.

Marco began pulling back, his hands pulling back Law's hips with him. You hissed out a breath at the slow drag of his cock on your walls. Marco quickly snapped his hips forward, burying his cock into Law's ass and in turn, burying laws cock into your soft cunt. Law cried out, fisting the sheets near your head. You moaned as he nudged that one spot deep inside, your sensitive pussy clamping around him.

The doctor pulled back again, this time not as slow. He slammed back inside again, and you and Law both released moans at the same time. Marco built up a rhythm, and the obscenity of it all had him moaning. He praised both you and the surgeon for being so tight, so good, so obedient.

"God your holes are so good for me. Just like that, yeah? You like fucking her? Your tight little ass is just sucking me in, and I bet she's just clampin' down on ya. Fuck! I won't last much longer-yoi!"

Your orgasm was quickly approaching as Law panted above you, clearly no better off. Your hands came to cradle his face, and you brought him down for a kiss as you crested over the edge. You were blinded, arching beneath him, moaning and even screaming their names like a mantra. You felt Law's heavy breaths on your lips and cheek as he followed you over, letting your pussy milk his cock as he released into the condom inside. You felt Marco thrust for a few more moments, Law moaning into your neck as he started to become overstimulated. The doctor finally let out a guttural moan, curling over Law's back as he shot rope after rope of cum into his own condom.

You took a minute to come back down, wrapping your arms around Law as he shook. Marco pulled out slowly, and guided Law's hips back from yours. The surgeon moaned as his over-sensitive cock left your tight walls and he collapsed on his side next to you.

"I know, I know. You did so good. You both did." he murmured gently. He removed Law's condom before disappearing to the bathroom. You heard running water distantly.

"Law?"

He only grunted in reply, but you squirmed to nestle yourself into his warm arms, kissing his tattooed chest. You let one arm come up and play with his soft raven locks, and he hummed in pleasure.

"That was amazing" you whispered breathlessly. A small chuckle left his chest, and you heard Marco approach.

"Yeah? Well we can do it again sometime" he said, a smile evident in his voice. A warm washcloth draped over your thigh and you jolted a little. A hand gently cleaned you up after you shifted, and you felt him cleaning Law at the same time.

"I got a bath going. C'mon. Let's get you two really cleaned up."

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece smut #law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece law #marco x reader #one piece marco #marco smut #law smut #trafalgar d law x reader #law x marco x reader

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aclowntiny · 7 months

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Ink Trails- Hongjoong x GN!Reader (Soulmate AU)

Just about everyone has a soulmate, a person they're destined to be with, to go through life with in some capacity. The mark of this? Anything you write on your skin shows up on theirs.

Word Count: 2.4k | Soulmate AU, Banter, Faint Humor | Warnings: a bit of language

You weren’t a big fan of drawing on yourself. As a child, you were something of a neat freak, washing all the dirt you could off your hands and never wanting to add ammo to the enemy in yours and the sink’s war. Of course, your favorite sheet of temporary tattoos didn’t count as dirt, not when they granted you several days of carrying your favorite character, a little purple penguin, with you. In fact, you practically ignored the rest of the sheet besides a few snowflakes surrounding him, all of which everyone told you were now decorating some other kid, too.

Well, good, you thought, your penguin was the best and they probably loved it, too. Otherwise they couldn’t marry you or whatever soulmates did. Usually it was get married. Maybe you would get married when you grew up. Your grandparents liked being married.

As you grew a bit older, you wrote in school. Sometimes your pen or pencil slipped, skimming your hand with an accidental line. Sometimes your soulmate was clumsy, too, and you watched a pencil trail appear when you didn’t even have one in hand. The weirdest was when you watched a whole shaky ㅎ appear, the circle looking a bit square, then suddenly erasing and being reborn round again.

And then just like that, it was all gone.

It hadn’t really been your habit to write things on yourself like others you knew- it just didn’t come naturally to you when you had paper and, a bit later in life, your phone. Beside that, given the marks of soulmates, any notes you wrote would appear on someone else’s arm, hand, anywhere they could get scolded for if they had strict family or teachers or a barrier to looking presentable at an academic event. It just didn’t seem fair. That was the same reason why, even years after school and becoming an adult, you chose not to get any tattoos. What if your soulmate hated it? Then they get it removed and you lose yours and the cycle goes on like some sort of stupid cartoon sequence of ink and lasers.

Ok, that part maybe not so much, but you knew how personal and controversial tattoos could be, so kinda weird to put one on someone else without their consent. Sorry about the penguin, you supposed all those years later, I was four.

Instead, perhaps preferably, you doodled a lot on paper, keeping at it even when that rude boy Matthew from seventh grade told you your cat looked so bad, it made him think it was a dragon holding a cookie. Such insults would not be taken from the guy who used ‘I don’t like the color red’ as an icebreaker ‘fun fact’…while wearing a red shirt.

Even if you were no artist, improvement naturally came with age and frequency, and you favored keeping your drawings cute anyway. Yet another reason to put them down on paper- pen ink faded from skin, but on paper, it was like a tattoo. Permanent with all your other notebooks of doodles that would have more than covered your body.

Your body, which was semi-frequently decorated anyway, not of your own accord. Your soulmate, likely around your age, had no qualms about use of the forearms as a notepad, so it wasn’t the oddest occurrence by far to wake up with things like ‘7:00 독주회’ or a more frantic ‘ENGLISH TEST 9:00’ scrawled there. Or even once a very unceremoniously written, shaky, clearly hastily added ‘BUMJOONG WAS HERE’ on the back of your hand. That was a fun one to try to explain. It made you wonder sometimes if your soulmate was a less considerate person than you or if you’d simply proven well in your restraint.

You weren’t expecting any answers, or perhaps more questions, to come in the form they all did.

The morning was like any other: it was your day off, time you’d reserved so as to endeavor some shopping. Making yourself a nice breakfast and choosing one of your favorite outfits, you hopped in the shower. Deciding what the heck, it was your day off, you even busted out the new sugar scrub you’d bought as peals of warm, crashing water echoed around you, lathering some exfoliant luxury upon the skin you’d always cared for.

Never once had you expected it to entertain anyone’s notice.

But there it was as you strolled along the concrete of the shopping center’s sidewalk, completely unaware of what was exposed until you ran into a friend, waving and exchanging the platitudes of two meeting after some time.

“Wow, (y/n), what a surprise, I didn’t know you got a tattoo! I thought you didn’t want any!” Your old friend Brian exclaimed with a wide smile, tilting his head. “May I see the whole thing?”

His words rose slowly to your head as you blinked, gears turning. For you had not, in fact, gotten anything of the sort done. Instinctively you held out your hand, assuming your soulmate had scrawled another vague practice reminder on the back of their hand or wrist, but your skin was blank, just a smooth expanse the same tone it always was.

“No, not your hand, silly! There!” Your eyes followed as he pointed down towards the ground, toward…your leg?

Swiveling at the hips, you bent and tugged on any necessary clothing to reveal, sure enough, writing near your ankle. Your chest sunk.

“I didn’t get a tattoo,” you said quietly.

“What?”

“I didn’t get a tattoo,” you repeated, voice a deadpan.

He pointed, finger rising slowly, almost shakily. “Then what’s-”

“I don’t know. I- I guess my soulmate did it.”

“Your soulmate got a tattoo without asking you?”

“We haven’t met,” you burst out as you raised the fabric around your leg higher, “I guess they don’t care what I think! What’s this even say, anyway?”

Frustration pricked at you at the sheer height of the piece- it wasn’t exactly dainty. Quite a ballsy move, all things considered. Sheesh. Wait, those were wings, huh?

“It says ‘faith’,” Brian supplied, “and I think it’s nice. Could definitely be worse. Could have been a partner’s name or, like, naked Spongebob or something.”

You cocked a brow. “Naked Spongebob?”

“Well, would you want that on your leg?” Brian shot back, crossing his black t-shirted arms.

“No,” you sighed, staring at your new, involuntary body art, “I suppose I would not. Well, you’re right- this is pretty nice. I can live with this. Hopefully it’s not the first one of many, though. My soulmate better leave me some control of my own skin.”

“Yeah, and if they don’t, you’d better give them a piece of your mind.”

A chuckle escaped you. “Yeah, right. I don’t even know where they are.”

“Have you never tried to find out?” Brian’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowing at you like he was asking the dumbest question he’d ever uttered.

And maybe he was. Your chest contracted in realization that you had, in fact, never once considered taking any initiative into finding whoever it was had those recitals or English tests or who you really hoped had the spine to smack Bumjoong one for defacement of property. The person who, by the universe’s decree, was meant to be some miraculous piece of your life forever and you’d just…assumed they’d walk in whenever it was time. All your concern had gone to not bothering their appearance despite their clear lack of regard on the subject.

“Uh, (y/n)?” A hand waved in front of your face. Brian’s. “You’ve gone all spacey on me, what’s wrong?”

“Brian, I might be stupid.”

“Might?”

You descended back to earth, or at least close enough to its gravity, to find the wherewithal to smack his shoulder beneath the momentous echoing of reality throughout your brain.

“Also, I take it then the tattoo on your arm wasn’t your idea either?”

“The…what?”

Shopping day over.

Hongjoong couldn’t recognize his own handwriting. Or could he? Had he written that address on the back of his hand? He had to have. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. As if his schedule wasn’t busy enough, now here was some other errand he’d forgotten.

Pulling out his phone and typing it into maps, he saw that at least it wasn’t too far away. A reasonable drive, especially for a…tuesday? Oddly specific, but appointments were appointments, he reflected as he swiveled in his leather office chair.

After all, if it wasn’t important, he wouldn’t have written it down so visibly on himself like that. That was a habit he’d largely dropped in adulthood, image of greater concern and regard for mess a bit higher, too. Plus, the only other good it would have served seemed not his lot.

At least a fair number of songs had come from it. Ah, music- the eternal, universal processor. What would he do without it? Music was a way of filling every void-no, scratch that, coming to terms with the existence of voids within oneself- the thing that made him feel complete, or certainly one of them. Jokes had it that music was Hongjoong's soulmate, and while the songwriter didn't appreciate fun being poked at his expense, it was hard to deny the itching grains of truth beneath his skin at the words.

Music-related or not, this short trip was his lot, so why not make the best of it? After all, whoever had organized it picked a pretty nice café as the rendezvous point. Worst case, Hongjoong would at least get a coffee out of it.

You were starting to wonder if nobody would approach you, more singles and even couples getting in line and heading straight for a table or the door than you could count on one hand. In fact, in came someone else right in time with your thoughts, a super hot guy in fact, though he looked confused as hell. His eyes darted back and forth between the chalkboard menu and the industrial-style metal tables as he stood a little bit out of line.

Shit didn’t hit the fan until he pulled his phone out to check it, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. His loose black t-shirt sleeve fell back, revealing a tattoo suspiciously similar to the second one that Brian pointed out on your own body. And that font was very, very unique. And big. And it was on you now.

Moving completely of its own volition, your body peeled from its metal seat and strode right up to him. No thoughts swirled to the surface of your mind even as you reached his side, prompting him to turn on his heels.

The only words your mind could barely form fell out of your lips. "You're the one who gave me these tattoos."

Jumping back, the man gaze at you with saucer-wide eyes, saying nothing as you pulled your own sleeve back to reveal the second and luckily last set of writing Brian had found on your body, this time reading 'No 1 like me', and again showed your ankle.

"I designed that one myself, how could you possibly-" His wide-eyed gape fell slowly into a smile. "I have a soulmate?"

"Yes, of course you do!" You replied, incredulous. "Did you think you didn't?"

"You never wrote anything!" He shot back.

"I was trying not to mess you up!"

"I just..." The man's handsome features fell, first into seeming hurt then just into a pensive look. "For so many years I taught myself to make my own way. Sometimes I was fine with it, sometimes I wasn't."

"No wonder you thought there was no one like you," you said before panicking, thinking better of it, "not that the tattoo isn't cool! And still true. I really like the font, actually? You said you designed at least one of these?"

"Yeah, I knew what I wanted, so I drew up the faith one and..." He tilted his head, sliding his phone from his hand back into his pocket. "wait, do you want to get a table?"

"Only if you buy me a drink," you teased, nodding toward your arm as you got back in line, "you owe me for these."

"I think you owe me for years of radio silence," the man shot back with a smirk, crossing his arms.

Heat crept into your face at the way he fixed the intense look at you, but you refused to back down. "The way you described it sounded like I taught you a valuable lesson."

"Pain can teach lessons."

Ok, you were about spent at that. "Are we really fighting over something as stupid as one free coffee?"

"I mean, fighting wasn't the word I would have used there, but you're right. I've got this one."

"Oh, you two are so cute!" The barista waved her hand as you placed your orders. "I love couples who bicker like old married grandparents! So, what are your names?"

You and your soulmate glanced at each other, your eyes sliding back into those deep, dark, expressive ones you wouldn't mind getting used to. He searched yours, too, and a small smile played on his lips that had you wondering what he was thinking... until you realized it, too.

Maybe you had wildly opposite views over the years on using your body as a notebook, but you two soulmates had the exact same sense of humor.

"We don't know," you both said at the same time.

"I'm Hongjoong," the man in black introduced himself, smiling wickedly now.

"(y/n), nice to meet you," you replied, bowing back to him.

The barista mirrored Hongjoong's initial shock at your confrontation as you both headed to your table, laughing now. Somehow that all came as easily as bickering, all your interactions up to that point having a certain flow you'd never felt before. Placebo effect? Maybe, yet the tug you felt the moment you first saw Hongjoong was yet to fade. It was like those old sayings: it felt like you two were making music.

"Ok, please don't think I'm being rude," Hongjoong's voice cut into your thoughts, "but I'm a songwriter, and I feel like I just have to write down some lyrics right now."

All you could do was just grin at that. Well, shit. Maybe now you really would have to try leaving more of an ink trail.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #soulmate au #can't believe this is my first soulmate au piece tbh...but hope y'all enjoy 😁

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roguelov · 2 years

Text

Mine, Ours

Summary: A mortal, an aspiring artist, captured the heart of a muse, a Greek goddess, and an Endless. Soon these deities became entangled in your life. Their love surrounded you. And you always assumed they were unaware of the other, oh how wrong could you be. Now they wished to show you how much you mean to them.

Word Count: ~7k

Reader: Afab/fem

Warnings: Smut (threesome, oral (fem!receiving and fem!giving and faceridding), unprotected sex, fingering, voyeurism, minor dirty talk, minor praise kink), fluff sprinkled throughout

MINORS DNI/ 18+ ONLY

To create.

To dream.

To inspire.

You called them, and they answered.

You met her first, under the warmth of the guiding sun, by the park near your apartment.

Children laughed. People chattered. Fresh goods, from a bakery across the street, wafted on the gentle breeze. The late summer days still warmed your soul, while the creeping chill in the air nipped at your skin warning of colder days to come.

And here, you sat tucked in your corner, under a changing tree, watching the bustling life - recording it.

A worn sketchbook rested in your lap with a short, dulled pencil behind your ear. Your fingers smudged in graphite. Shavings littered over you and your blanket. New doodles filled the pages: drawings of the elderly couple on the park bench feeding the birds across the way, drawings of the dog zooming around chasing after a chewed up frisbee, drawings of a bird nest directly above you, drawings of kids on a quilt playing with their variety of toys.

Drawing after drawing.

Sketch after sketch.

And you somehow will never have your fill.

Yet, nowadays, you craved something more. Ideas tingled in the back of your mind, desperate to escape. However, they were fleeting and hazy, ones you could never quite grasp to put pencil to paper.

But, they were there. Somewhere.

“What are you doing?”

You languidly glanced up. Immediately, your breath was stolen.

An absolutely stunning woman stood over you. She wore a white floral dress which cascaded down her body, hugging her curves. Her chestnut hair flowed down over her shoulders, framing her exceptionally warm and kind face. It glowed like a fire in the sunlight. Her eyes the color of roots of change, of the earth beneath your feet giving the courage to keep moving forward.

Her rosy lips curled into a dazzling smile.

Her mouth moved.

You blinked, snapping out of your racing thoughts. “I’m sorry, what?”

Her smile widened. “What are you doing? Or I suppose, what are you drawing?”

Your thoughts slipped away. She pointed down at your closed sketchbook in your lap. You perked up. “Oh, oh! Yes, right, I’m sorry,” you cleared your throat trying to ease your rising nerves, “I was just sketching some of the people in the park.”

“How lovely.”

“Yes, well, people are more interesting than a basket of fruit.”

She chuckled.

You smiled. It was such a sweet melody.

“If you don’t mind me asking, and I hope it’s not rude, but may I see them?”

Hesitancy flickered.

But, you nodded.

You started to lift your sketchbook for this wonderful stranger to take when you realized she floated down, sitting next to you on your blanket. Her shoulder bumbled against yours, such a small act sent sparks over your skin. Her eyes focused on your sketchbook in your lip.

You stared, transfixed and in awe. Who was she?

Her eyes trailed up, connecting with yours. She was so close. Her beauty was the type found in centuries old oil paintings, utterly ethereal and needed to be captured. She smiled softly, her eyes crinkled. “May I see them?”

Your eyes widened. “Yes! Sorry.”

You flipped open your sketchbook to your most recent additions. She leaned forward. She tucked her hair behind her ear. Her fingers skimmed over the page, feeling the grooves, the scratched and erased lines.

“These are beautiful,” she commented.

“Oh, thanks,” you blushed, “they’re just random sketches, there’s places where I could improve and -“

“Do not belittle your talent.”

Your mouth closed.

She peered up at you through her dark lashes. “You have a gift, one you are developing. It is perfect now and will be perfect later.”

You tilted your head. A smile tugged on your lips. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

She raised her chin, smiling. A secretive one, full of knowledge you weren’t privy too. Yet. “And I think you will do great things.”

“Thank you.” You glanced away feeling hot under her intense gaze. Questions stirred. Where did she come from? Why did she come to you? But, you supposed you could start with who, who was she? “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“Calliope.”

Calliope.

“That’s a beautiful name.”

She dropped her head, smiling to herself. “Thank you, and you?”

“(Y/N).”

Her eyes locked with yours again. “It is lovely to meet you, (Y/N).” A warmth spread over you at the sound of your own name rolling off her tongue. It was if you were hearing for the first time. As if it was poetry and not a word you carried with you all your life. “I hope I am not too forward, but could we meet here again?” She asked.

Your heart skipped. “I would love that.”

“Tomorrow? Same time?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled.

You met him next, under the veil of night, when fears and nightmares overshadowed your dreams.

Your eyes snapped open.

Blood pumped feverishly through your veins. The sporadic uneven pounding drowned the silence. You leapt up, clutching the front of your shirt. Your heart thudded dangerously under your fingertips.

You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. “It’s was just a nightmare, just a dumb nightmare.”

Opening your eyes, darkness swallowed you.

Your heart rate spiked.

Every shadow crawled with monsters, every object morphed into horrendous, veil faces screaming out in terror.

Fuck.

Throwing back the sheets, you stumbled out of your room. The moonlight, and faded streetlights, offered very little. Even in your bare living room, things moved out of the corner of your eyes. You tugged on the collar of your shirt. Your clothes constricted, suffocating you. The walls loomed over and began to close in.

Run.

Fueled by the simple thought, you rushed over to the front door. You shoved on shoes and jacket with the collar flicked up, jammed your keys into your pockets, then sprinted out of your claustrophobic apartment. Your footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway, your untie shoelaces clacked against the ground.

Each sound sent a jolt through your scattered mind.

Ripping open the apartment complex door, the bitter air wiggled underneath your coat. You shrugged it closer. Your feet carried you, sticking to the streetlights. Your eyesight locked to the sidewalk.

The shadows still called out to you.

Unknowingly, your feet took you to a place you knew well. A place you knew you could navigate with your eyes closed: the park.

Crossing the empty street, you walked through the park and picked a vacant bench among the many. You sighed, flopping down. You craned your head back, letting the world turn upside down. You inhaled deeply. The crisp air was a shock to your system. A reboot. Your mind and body shifted away from its fears and focused on the ice filling its lungs. You exhaled loudly. The air fogged up.

It will be fall soon.

“What brings you out here?”

You jumped, sitting straight up. Your head snapped up to see a man in a dark coat standing a few feet back. Meeting a stranger, or any, at this hour should have frightened you. And although his initial presence did, once your eyes locked with his you felt oddly at ease.

“Apologies,” he dropped his head slightly, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“No, no,” you adamantly shook your head, “it wasn’t your fault, I was just lost in my thoughts and I didn’t hear you approach.”

His lips twitched.

You cleared your throat, “But, I, uh, couldn’t sleep.”

You skirted around the truth.

He hummed.

“And you? What are you doing out here?”

“Someone called.”

Your eyebrows knitted together at his vague wording. “Like, a friend of yours? Are they okay?”

He nodded, “Yes, and it is all taken care of.”

“Wow, must be an important person if you crawled out of bed this late.”

“You could say that.”

You smiled softly. “That’s good. Your friend is very lucky to have you.” You pointed to yourself, “I’m (Y/N) by the way.”

“(Y/N),” he repeated, trying your name. It was like a gentle song, a steady beat, to lull you to a peaceful slumber. “I’m Morpheus.”

“Morpheus.” You smiled at him, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“And to you.”

Your heart skipped. Under his unwavering gaze, a fuzzy warmth spread over your chest. You looked away, dropping your head. Somehow riddled utterly bashful from a stranger.

“It was a nightmare,” he said. “That is why you’re out here.”

You tensed. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. One with the utmost conviction, as if he knew all along. You chuckled nervously, “Was it really that obvious?”

He shook his head. “An inkling.”

You sighed, “Bit childish, isn’t it? To run away from an idiotic nightmare.”

“No.”

You cocked your head at his quick response. “No?”

“Nightmares make you face your deepest fears, and sometimes you’re simply not ready for them. But In time you will conquer them.”

You blinked, stunned, but then you slowly smiled at him. “How wise.”

A silence fell over you, comfortable and peaceful. Like two old friends enjoying each other’s company.

Morphues shifted his attention up to the starry night.

So, you studied him.

He glowed in this haunting lighting. He was made for the night, molded by it. His hair was elegantly messy, like ruffled raven feathers sticking up at odd ends. His lips, a dusty pink, puckered slightly in thought. His eyes the color of the morning sky uplifting you to wonders above the clouds. And he carried himself like royalty, shoulders back elongating his perfect posture.

A dark prince - no, king. A king of shadows and wonders.

He was captivating, memorizing.

You shook yourself from your wondering thoughts. “I should probably go.”

His eyes fell to you.

You stood up, wrapping your jacket around yourself, and started to walk pass him. He watched your every movement. As you brushed by him, drawn in by his magnetizing presence, he followed your figure.

Your eyes flickered over barely meeting his. “It was nice meeting you, Morphues.”

“That nightmare shouldn’t bother you anymore.”

Your footsteps halted. You peered over your shoulder, confused. “What?”

He turned, facing you, giving you all of his full attention. “Your nightmare won’t bother you anymore.”

You laughed once, cocking your eyebrow. “Really? And how would you know?”

A smile tugged on his lips. “A hunch.”

An idea took hold, one to promise another encounter with your new dark friend.

You smiled. “Well, if that’s true then let’s meet here again at the same time a few nights from now, and we will see who is right.”

He matched your smile and reached his eyes. “Okay.”

“Until then, Morphues.”

“Until then, (Y/N).”

Soon, these two figures became the center of your small world. You enjoyed each of their company greatly. They brought you comfort and newfound joy. They expressed interest in every aspect of your life. Even when you believed you rattled on about everything, your personal life and other mundane topics, to art from who inspired you, your favorite pieces, and your growing knowledge.

They never silenced you. They smiled and encouraged you.

And ever so slightly, you tumbled. You fell wholeheartedly in love with each of them. It almost felt wrong to love two people so deeply, yet your heart had decided. Both Morphues and Calliope. And you would give it over again and again.

You swore to yourself that you would tell them eventually. It didn’t sit right to keep the truth of either of them, even if you might lose one or both in the process. Yet, all of it rid on the notion that neither was aware of the other.

Oh, how wrong you were.

In the distance, you passed through the flow of people. Calliope, hiddened, watched intently as you began to shrink from view. A figure appeared beside her: Morphues. His eyes followed Calliope’s line of sight. He hummed, “So, I see you have laid claim on that mortal.”

Calliope barely turned her head. Her eyes were still on you. “Claim? I do no such thing.”

“Perhaps, but she certainly has caught your eyes,” he pressed. His eyes were also on you, completely transfixed. “A task very few have done.”

You vanished. A sorrowful ache sung in their empty chests.

Calliope faced Morpheus, looking up at him. “Is that a crime, Oneiros?”

“No, it is not.” He said, looking at his former love.

“Then why do you treat it as such?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Because she too has caught my eye.”

Calliope blinked. “And what does that mean?”

“I’m not quite sure yet.”

“If you think I will -“

“I think nothing. I am only sharing since it might interest you.”

Her lips thinned. Her eyes searched for an answer, one that was more clear, but Morphues would not give it. “I will not stop.”

“And neither will I.”

A promise lingered in the air. One that prompted something, something sinful, something sweet.

“Then good day to you, Morphues,” Calliope nodded.

“And to you, Calliope.”

Time blurred.

Time filled with a blossoming love.

You savored their individual time. And in turn, they inspired you. Their beauty was captivating. Your sketchbooks were quickly filled with their faces, and soon their faces haunted your dreams.

But, pencil and paper wasn’t enough.

You wanted to paint them, to give color and life to one of your sketches, to show how their eyes twinkled with love, to show how their lips curled into a heartwarming smile, to show how their hair framed their face down to the strands which could never be tamed, to show how -

To show how much they mean to you. To show them how you see them.

You decided you would ask Calliope first. She seemed she would be more open minded to the idea, and somewhat less intimidating than the king of night, Morphues.

“Calliope?”

The two of you were side by side, leaning against each other underneath the tree where you met. It felt like years ago, like she was always a part of your life.

“Yes, my love?” She answered.

Your heart skipped at the endearing name. No matter how many times it rolled off her tongue, it still gave you butterflies. Clearing your throat, you said, “I was wondering if you could model for me - and! And before you say anything please don’t feel obligated or anything, this is whatever you are comfortable with.”

She twisted, looking directly at you. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and excitement. “Would it be presumptuous to ask if it’ll be a nude painting?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with that,” you spilled out. “You wear whatever you want, or we can drape sheets over you to keep you covered.”

She cupped your face. “I would be honored.”

Your eyes lit up. “Really?”

“To inspire you is my greatest gift to you, and it would fill my heart with joy to be the muse of your next painting.”

You beamed. You buried your face into your touch, trying to hide your growing excitement and dopey smile. She laughed and brought your face to hers. She picked your lips. Pulling back, she gently held your face for a moment. She thought you looked adorable with your giddy smile, a smile she always wished to see.

“Okay, uh, how about Friday night? I’ll have everything set up and we’ll do it for just a few hours, nothing too long.” You suggested.

“Perfect.”

An idea stirred.

Calliope smiled to herself.

Oh, yes, this could work, she thought. An unspoken promise may be fulfilled.

Days later, right after sunset, you stood in your living room. Chairs and tables were pushed up to the wall. A cream sheet hung precariously from the ceiling, draping across the floor. The couch sat on top with a hand full of sheets for Calliope to cover up or use however she wished. A few dim lamps scattered around pointed at the couch to get the best lighting. Your easel, with a prepped canvas, and a cart, filled with all necessary supplies, was positioned a few paces back.

It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t a high grade studio, but it was enough.

You adjusted your stool in front of the canvas. You tightened your stained smock. Your heart, however, buzzed. Glancing down, your hands trembled. Fuck. You clenched and unclenched your fists trying to calm the tremor.

Knock! Knock!

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

You rushed over to the front door and flung it open. Almost off the hinges. Unbothered, or unaware, of your nerves, Calliope smiled at you. “Hello, (Y/N).”

“Hi,” you whispered.

“May I come in?”

“Oh! Yes, right.” You moved aside letting her through. Her eyes scanned over your makeshift studio setup. “I hope this is okay.”

“It’s perfect.”

You smiled, calmed a little by her words. “Okay, good, uh, well, please do whatever you want to get comfortable. I’m going to finish my setup, okay?”

She nodded.

You spun around, walking back to your canvas. Behind it, you couldn’t see her move. But, you certainly heard her. Fabrics fluttered. Some fell to the ground with a thud. With each drop, your heart jumped. I can do this. You let out a low shaky breath and began arranging your paints in color order on your palette.

“I’m ready.“

You scrunched up your face. So quickly?

You peered out from behind your canvas.

Draped over the couch, she laid on her side facing you. Naked, bare. An arm propped up her head, while the other rested on her side extenuating her curves. Her legs bent a little to fit onto the couch. Her fingers played with the thin sheet covering her thighs and part of her lower half. Only her lower half. She left her top untouched and exposed.

You tried not to stare.

You visibly swallowed. “Will you, uh, be comfortable to stay in that position for a while?”

“I can manage.”

You nodded. “Okay, um, would you like some music? Or anything?”

“I think I’m good, my love.” Her lips curled into a smirk.

Why did that send a spike of fear through you?

“Okay,” you mumbled. “I just have to finish my paint setup and we can start.”

You squeezed out the last few paints. You capped the tubes and reached for a paintbrush -

“I see you have started without me.” A voice, one you recognized instantly, said from the darkness.

You whipped around, startled.

Calliope, however, was unaffected. “You are late.”

Out of the shadows, Morpheus appeared. Your eyes widened. “Morphues - wh - how -“

“Do not worry yourself.” He calmly stated as he walked forth. His eyes focused solely on you.

You should have been frightened. He appeared out of nowhere, instead confusion settled over you. Your eyebrows knitted together as Calliope’s words tossed around in your head again.

Late?

You looked over your shoulder. Calliope smiled softly at you, trying to ease any worries. “You called him here?” Another thought popped up. “Wait, you two know each other?”

Fingers wrapped around your chin, guiding your attention back to Morphues standing directly in front of you. “We do.”

“But, how and - and what -“

“You have questions, and we can answer as many as needed.”

Sheets rustled. Light footsteps crept closer. A hand lightly touched your back, drawing your attention. Looking over, Calliope smiled at you.

Your heart thrummed.

The air sparked with something sinful with both of them here. You desperately kept your gaze on Calliope’s sweet, warm eyes. She floated over and behind Morphues. Her hands wrapped around his waist. Morphues turned his head, acknowledging her. They touched their foreheads, taking a moment.

Then both of their eyes flickered over to you.

You instantly felt small. Your heart leapt into your throat.

“Do you know of the Greek Muses? Of any mythos?” Calliope began.

You stared blankly, then gave the tiniest nod. You had some understanding of Greek Mythology, but just broad strokes.

“I am one of the nine muses, my love. A Greek Goddess.”

What?

“And Morpheus was once my husband.”

You tensed.

“Careful, you might frighten her,” Morphues said with a slight tease.

“I am only speaking the truth, one she should know if we continue down this path.”

What -

“And - and you?” You asked, finding your voice, and gestured to Morphues.

He smiled, a small tug. “I am no god. I am an Endless. Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares.”

Your hands dangled at your sides. “I’m sorry, a goddess? And - and an Endless?” They simply nodded. “What do you want with me? Why me?”

Calliope saw the fear rising in your eyes. She peeled away from Morphues and placed herself behind you. Her arms circled around you as she pressed a gentle kiss on your shoulder. Her warmth immediately comforted you.

“You needn’t fear us, we don’t wish to cause you any harm,” she whispered into your shoulder.

“Then what?” You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye.

“We want you,” Morphues answered swiftly

Your eyes snapped back to Morpheus. “Me?”

“An artist who dreams of inspiring others to create, or to inspire others to dream of a new world; you called out to us.”

Your cheeks warmed. “Yes, well, I, uh -“

“Do not be embarrassed.” Calliope whispered. “It is endearing and we soon both found ourselves falling in love with the artist who summoned us.”

“I - I don’t know what to say.”

“You needn’t say anything.”

“Right now we only wish to inspire you,” Morphues said. “If you like.”

Your eyes flickered between the two of them. Two of the most beautiful people you’ve ever laid your eyes on. And to think you called them? To know they became infatuated with you in return? It was almost beyond your comprehension. Now, they were both here. They both expressed their desires and love.

So, why say no?

It’s just for a painting.

You nodded, trying to catch your breath.

Morpheus hummed. He stretched his hand out, and Calliope graciously accepted. He led her over, and out of view, to the homemade stage.

You let out a shaky breath.

Breathe. Focus.

Morphues and Calliope each had captured your heart. It was an unfiltered love, it was a rose-hued world, it was constant butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

But, with them both here it called something darker within you. That sinful spark from earlier still lingered in the air. It was an insatiable hunger, it was a red haze fogging your consciousness, it was a wildfire coursing through your veins.

You flopped down on your stool. Closing your eyes, you continued to inhale and exhale in even, steady breaths.

“Are you ready?” Calliope asked.

“Yeah,” you murmured, opening your eyes.

You glanced over your canvas to your two new models. The air was knocked out of your lungs. Both standing, Morphues, now bare, held Calliope in his arms. Calliope, her back pressed into his chest, leaned her head back resting it on Morpheus’s shoulder.

They certainly hid nothing from you.

Your face was hot.

“Will this do?” Morphues asked, teasingly.

“Fuck.” It tumbled out of your lips before you could stop it.

Morphues smirked. He bent his head down, pressing his lips into Calliope’s shoulder trying to hide his growing amusement. Calliope chuckled, smiling widely.

You ripped your gaze away as your ear ignited.

“So? Will this not do?” Morpheus repeated.

“It’s - it’s fine.” You muttered.

“Have you not painted nude models before?” Calliope mused. Her tone was more sweet, but it didn’t hide all of her taunts.

“I have,” you said firmly.

“Then there should be no problem,” she chirped.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, my love, we are ready when you are.”

You closed your eyes once more and exhaled slowly. Focus, just focus. You’ll be fine. Opening your eyes, you picked up a brush dipping it into a light brown.

Your eyes slid over.

They melded together, like pieces from a forgotten puzzle. Somehow alway meant to be. His arms - muscular and taunt with its harsh lines - circled around her waist and contrasted against her soft, delicate curves. Her hand splayed over his, desperate to have more skin to skin contact. He kissed her shoulder, his messy locks blocked out most of his face and barely brushed against her skin. Her head was turned, staring lovely at him. Her slim fingers caressed the side of his face, drawing him in.

A lovers’ embrace.

Your lips twitched upward.

You leaned back over and began to sketch out basic outlines: the line of action, the curves, the building blocks of anatomy, and a basic, sloppy shading to remind you of your light source. Soon, you forgot who you were painting and fell into the flow. You built up each layer of paint, slowly adding color, and carving out their bodies and background.

You knew it wouldn’t be finished tonight, but you enjoyed the process.

Until, it was broken by giggling.

Your eyes snapped over. Calliopes was laughing while Morphues lifted his head looking directly down at her, directly into her eyes. He smiled as she laughed.

You smiled, genuinely. Although they spoke of their former love, you could still see it. It still lingered. You returned back to your painting feeling lighter. However, you had forgotten who you had invited into your home, neglected their true intentions for this night.

“Shall we?” Morphues whispered into Calliope’s ear.

“Sweet Oneiros, I’ve been waiting for you.”

He chuckled.

You hunched forward, tongue poking out, when a soft hum broke the silence. Curious, you leaned over.

You inhaled sharply.

Morphues’s hands crawled up Calliope’s body. His firm hands cupped her perked breasts, and began to knead and play with them eliciting low sensual noises from the goddess. She sighed, closing her eyes. Morphues, however, looked directly at you. His eyes hooded, filled with desire as his lips curled into a devilish smirk.

You dove back in front of your painting. Your smock was now impossibly tight around your flushed skin.

“Morpheus.”

You flinched in your seat.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t -

Curiosity pulled. You cautiously peered behind your painting. Morphues kissed and nipped at Calliope's neck. Love bites began to cover her skin. His hands gripped - white knuckling - her hips, desperate to keep her in place, to keep her from moving. Her lips fall open, sighing dreamily. She wiggled her hips, rubbing against him. Morpheus groaned. Its deep vibrations echoed throughout the spacious room. He dropped his head onto her shoulder. Calliope glanced over to you. Her eyes half opened, filled with pure lust. You instantly looked away, somehow embarrassed as if you caught them.

“Morpheus, we may have frightened our friend here,” she smirked.

Morpheus looked up to see you hiding behind your canvas. “We may - oh.”

Calliope rubbed against him again making him moan.

You fidgeted. You crossed your legs trying to alleviate some of your growing needs.

“(Y/N),” Calliope cooed.

You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Yes?”

“Look at us, my love.”

Fuck.

Obeying her command, you leaned over. “Oh dear god.”

Morpheus’s fingers slid down Calliope’s chest, down the valley between her breasts, and further and further. Goosebumps followed his delicate touch. Your eyes widened. He slipped two sinful fingers between her folds. Calliope moaned, falling into his touch. His fingers started slowly, stroking her walls. It was pratically pornographic: how his fingers pumped her, the wet sloppy noise, how Calliope mewled and how each sound went straight through you.

“She feels divine,” Morpheus purred.

“Fuck me,” you mumbled, clenching your thighs together.

Morpheus curled his fingers.

“(Y/N),” Calliope moaned, grinding down on his fingers.

Your paintbrush clattered to the ground. Your hands covered your hot face. Your ragged breathing barely drowned out their sounds.

Be professional, be professional - but how can I when they’re acting like this?

“Oh, darling,” Morpheus called out.

You peaked through your fingers. Morpheus slipped his fingers out of Calliope, she whined at the loss of friction. Staring directly at you, Morpheus stuck his fingers in his mouth tasting Calliope. His perfect lips wrapped around his fingers as his eyes fluttered closed, moaning deeply.

“Let me,” Calliope murmured.

She gently removed his fingers from his mouth and cupped his face bringing him down to her. Her tongue slipped between his lips tasting herself on Morpheus’s tongue. She hummed.

“Love,” he murmured against Calliope, “we mustn’t forget someone.”

Calliope pulled away, lips swollen. Their eyes darted over locking onto you.

Your hands fell down.

Calliope moved first. She glided across the room. Standing in front of you as you sat on your stool, she titled your head back. You peered up at her with glassy eyes and parted lips. In seconds, you relinquished all control.

The painting can wait.

Her thumb ran over your bottom lip. Electricity crackled over your needy body. She bent down, and finally kissed you.

You sighed, closing your eyes.

She guided you up onto your feet. Her hands skimmed up and down your sides, learning your curves. She tilted her head, moving her lips deepening the kiss. Your heart skipped. Her tongue begged for entrance. You happily obliged. A moan rumbled in the back of your throat as she explored your mouth. Every touch was a fire across your skin.

Hands, rough and stern, landed on your hips.

You broke away from Calliope. Craning your neck back, Morpheus loomed behind you. He smiled at you. Calliope did not let this deter her. Her lips skimmed over your neck, making you shiver. Morpheus gripped your chin to keep your eyes on him. He leaned in to kiss you. While Calliope was sweet and fire inducing - a dangerous nectar injected into your vines setting your skin ablaze; Morpheus was an icy chill leaving you gasping and clinging - an all consuming blizzard trapping you.

Calliope nipped you, and soothed the pain with her tongue.

You moaned into Morpheus’s mouth.

Their skillful hands wandered over your body. Bit by bit, one article of clothing after the other fell off your body. Their hands skimmed over your hot skin: over the valley of your breasts, curling around your neck, through your hair, and down your sides. They mapped your body. They touched everywhere, except for where you wanted them the most.

Frustration built. A roaring fire in the pit of your stomach.

You groaned and whined.

They chuckled.

You huffed. Taking each of their wrists, you led them to your bedroom. You were done wasting time, done with their teasing.

Letting go of them, you pushed Calliope towards the bed. The back of her knees hit the bed and she flopped backwards with excited giggles. You licked your lips, then slowly sank to your knees at the edge of the bed. You dreamt of this, dreamt of this moment ever since you first laid eyes on her. Your fingers trailed up and down your legs. Taking one of her legs, you hooked it over your shoulder.

Your eyes looked up at her, and kissed her inner thigh.

Calliope hummed, tilting her head back.

You bit her.

She gasped.

Morpheus smiled deviously. He fell into a lone chair in the corner of the room. The perfect position. He slowly stroked himself, watching intently as this unfolded.

Smirking, you started marking her thighs. Marking everywhere, and purposely avoiding where she needed you the most. Your eyes flickered up. Her eyes were closed as her chest heaved heavily in anticipation.

A goddess - a Greek goddess - was turning into a mess because of you. Because of your touch.

You wouldn’t - couldn’t - wait any longer.

You dived into her dripping folds.

Calliope moaned. Her hands immediately latched into your hair, desperate to find grounding in this high.

She tasted, oh so, sweet. Divine. Morpheus was right, she is divine. You ate her as if it was her last meal, worshipping every moment. You hummed. She bucked her hips. You did it again. She moaned, “(Y/N).”

You clenched your thighs together. You were wet and needy. But, you wanted to feel her pleasure more than anything right now. You moved, sucking on her clit. She instinctively yanked on your hair, crying out. You moaned as pain quickly turned into pleasure.

“Morpheus,” she whimpered.

“Yes, darling?” He hummed, absolutely amused.

“She is heavenly.”

Pride swelled within you.

“I have no doubt.”

Calliope buried her face into the bedsheets. “Love, (Y/N), I -“

You groaned.

You wanted nothing more than for her to come in your mouth. You became more feverishly knowing she was at her end. Your tongue swirled around, you hummed and moaned pushing her further and further towards the edge, and your fingers dug into her thighs no doubt bruising her.

She gasped. She yanked on your hair drawing you impossibly close, as she bucked and rid your face.

Her walls fluttered around your tongue.

You eagerly lapped up her juices. She wriggled and squirmed, crying out in pleasure and overstimulation. You pulled away, breathless. But, a hand raked through your hair and forcibly yanked your head back. Morpheus mouth latched onto yours tasting Calliope on your tongue. You whimpered, clinging to him.

When he broke apart, his lips glistened.

His lips stretched into a playful smirk

There you were on your knees with hearts in your eyes. Your swollen lips parted, and your breath erratic and fleeting. His hand slid down, cupping your face. His thumb traced down your cheekbone down to your lips. He dragged his thumb across your bottom lip. Without thinking, you wrapped your lips around his thumb and gently sucked on it.

“Love, come here.”

Popping out Morpheus’s thumb, you glanced over to Calliope who laid out on the bed. She pointed at you, then slowly curled her finger beckoning you forth. You didn’t hesitate. You crawled onto the bed and over top of her.

She drew you down to her. Her lips brushed over yours and murmured softly, “I wish to return the favor.”

Excitement coursed through you. You nodded shyly, biting your lip. You moved to lay down, when she grabbed your wrist. She shook her head. “On top, my love.”

You blinked. Oh!

You smiled sheepishly then moved up.

“Oh, sweet Morpheus,” Calliope cooed.

“I am here,” he chuckled. He knew exactly what to do without being told a word. He hopped onto the bed, and grabbed her hips. His cock poked at her inner thighs.

But, he patiently waited, waited for you.

You situated yourself over Calliope’s face. Your knees on either side of her face, digging into the pillow her head rested on. You laid your hands flat against the wall. You needed something to keep you upright. Your heart skipped as you peered down at her snug between your legs. She simply smirked up at you. Her fingers reached up grabbing your hips, then slowly dragged you down.

You threw your head back as her mouth delved in.

Morpheus smiled, at the sight of you on top of Calliope. He then teased Calliope’s entrance, barely rubbing the tip of his cock between her folds.

She hummed.

“Fuck,” you muttered, squeezing your eyes shut.

Morpheus chuckled then slipped in. Calliope’s grip tightened. Her nails buried into your skin. Her tongue swirled as she moaned into you. Your taste was sweet and tempting like a forbidden fruit. One that should never be consumed, and one two ethereal beings will happily break time and time again.

Morpheus steadily began to rock his hips. Tantalizingly slow and nearly losing himself. The feeling of how Calliope wrapped around him, how he watched his two loves cry out in pleasure, how you squirmed, and how you peered over your shoulder looking back at him with a sweat forming on your forehead.

You leaned forward, your forehead pressed into the cool wall. You opened your eyes, daring to look down. Calliope’s eyes were closed as she worked you. However, feeling your gaze, her eyes flickered open. Her dark eyes, practically black and devoid of anything but lust and pleasure. She moaned into you. The vibrations were dizzying. You whimpered as your first orgasm built in the pit of your stomach.

You unconsciously began to grind down on her. Desperate to reach your end.

Calliope’s walls fluttered.

Morpheus grunted. “Do that again, (Y/N).”

Morpheus lifted Calliope’s hips. He snapped his hips, setting a new fast pace. You grinded down on Calliope. “Calliope,” you moaned.

You rocked your hips. Pleasure built and built.

Calliope hummed, ready for anything.

“Calliope,” you whined, warning her.

She worked you, while Morpheus worked her. The sinful noises filled your ears. The way Morpheus pounded into her, with his soft sweet grunts, the way Calliope sloppily ate you out, the way your strained moans combined with it all.

“Come for her, (Y/N),” Morpheus groaned.

You moaned, throwing your head back as your orgasm crashed through you. Calliope desperately held you in place as she continued to work you through your high. Morpheus moaned, feeling Calliope’s walls clamp around him as they reached their own highs.

You squirmed, and cried out. It was too much, and somehow not enough.

Calliope finally released you.

You fell onto your back, breathless. You glanced over to Calliope. Your juices covered her lips. Her tongue ran over her lips. You squirmed at the sight. She smiled lazily and reached out, stroking your cheek. You hummed. However, someone wasn’t done with you.

Hands yanked on your hips.

You yelped.

You soon found yourself in Morpheus’s lap staring directly into his eyes. Your breath was stolen. He kissed you, gently and sweetly. You exhaled through your nose, and cupped his face. Your fingers curled into his hair. He hummed. Soon he lifted you up, guiding you, and slowly sunk you down on his cock. You moaned into his mouth. He filled you and stretched you in a way you’ve never felt before.

He pulled away peppering kisses down your neck.

You craned your head back, and began to move up and down. Slow and languid movements as you wanted to draw out this moment. Morpheus groaned, as his arms tightened around your waist, desperate to have you closer. And with every movement, Morpheus met you, bucking his hips up. Every movement left you feeling lightheaded in the best way.

Calliope asked, watching the two of you, watching her two loves, “How does he feel, my love?”

“Good,” you breathed out, unable to process any sentences, “Really good.”

She chuckled.

Morpheus nipped at your neck, making you gasp. “Fuck, Morpheus.”

His lips curled over your skin. He lifted his head and pressed his forehead on yours. “You are being so good for us,” he whispered.

Your heart fluttered.

Biting your lip, gaining more and more confidence, you slammed down on him. Faster, more demanding. A vein popped in his neck. He clamped his mouth as a moan rumbled in his throat, and his eyes squeezed close.

An Endless, a cosmic being, was at your mercy.

You bounced up and down, loving how Morpheus’s face twisted in pleasure. “(Y/N),” he moaned.

Your heavy breathing and his filled the close space between you. He opened his eyes, peering up at you through his dark lashes. He bucked his hips, matching your pace. You whimpered, tugging on his hair. Your walls fluttered, warning him. Morpheus groaned. You rolled your hips, sending a new wave of pleasure. Morpheus chuckled, pulling you close. His hands trailed down your back, grabbing your hips. He guided you, helped lift you as you started to stutter in your pace. Your legs burned but you desperately wanted to continue. Your head fell to his shoulder. Your hands traced over his back muscles, feeling as they flexed under your light touch.

“Ah, look at me, darling.”

You lifted your head. Your brain hazy as pleasure built clouding your senses. His everlasting, all consuming, blue filled your vision.

He grounded you.

He bucked his hips, hitting the right spot.

You moaned, and you saw stars.

He smirked to himself repeating the action. Desperate for release, you grinded down. Your breath hitched. Your end was soon.

“Come for him, love.” Calliope hummed.

Your heart rate spiked.

At her simple words, your walls clamped down. Your lips fell open, as you fought to keep your eyes directly on Morpheus. He groaned, seeing you in absolute bliss and bucked his hips once last time, finding his own release. His forehead pressed to yours, kissing you feverishly one last time.

You hummed.

Breaking apart, you smiled at him. Breathless. And now utterly exhausted.

Calliope’s gentle hands guided you backwards into the softness of your bed. You fell back. Instantly, Calliope and Morpheus positioned themselves on either side of you.

“You were lovely,” Morpheus mumbled in your ear.

Calliope caressed your cheek, lulling you. “And so patient with us.”

You laughed once through your nose. “Thanks.”

Inhaling, you yawned. Your eyelids weighed down and thoughts of sleep tugged at the back of your mind.

“Rest,” Morpheus whispered.

You whined quietly. Not wishing for the night to be over.

Calliope laughed. “Rest, we will be here in the morning.”

Yawning once more, you reluctantly agreed.

You turned, snuggling into Morpheus’s side. Your hand splayed over his chest, feeling his calm heartbeat. Your chin propped on his shoulder as your steady breaths blew through your parted lips. Morpheus tilted his head resting it on yours. Calliope looped an arm under your waist, drawing herself close. Her lips pressed between your shoulder blades. She reached over you, and Morpheus intertwined his fingers with hers.

Warm. So warm.

#the sandman #the sandman smut #morpheus x reader #calliope x reader #morpheus x y/n #calliope x y/n #Morpheus x reader x calliope #morpheus x fem!reader #calliope x fem!reader #morpheus x reader smut #calliope x reader smut #the sandman imagine #smut #fem!reader #afab!reader

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daughterofcain-67 · 1 month

Text

𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 (𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁)

(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender! Female Reader)

(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 1) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 2)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An argument leads Dean into finally confessing the truth of his career but before you can make the choice on whether or not you believe Dean you find out some disturbing news which awakens you to a harsh reality.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: character death (oc) i think that’s it

Things were about as tense as you thought they would be,. You had never felt this uncomfortable in your own home until this very moment as you stood here with Dean. But you supposed for the sake of your own sanity, you knew you would have to break the ice somehow.

“Make yourself at home I guess, agent.” You spoke and motioned for him to have a seat on the couch.

Dean walked further into your home and he straightened up the jacket from his suit, uncertain if he should bother with taking it off or not. But then something caught his eye. Dean started walking towards wine of your bookshelves, the one that had several sketchbooks you had from over the years.

“You mind if I have a look at one of these?” Dean asked.

You glanced over and saw he was looked it through your bookshelves. “Sure, have at it.”

Then you sat down on your windowsill and picked up your current sketchbook once more so you could get back to work on the cover art you were asked to do. Meanwhile, Dean pulled out a random book and he was slowly going through the pages.

As Dean looked at your work, he was amazed at the detail you put into it. You’ve definitely improved your skills over the years, though back in the day he didn’t know how you could have possibly gotten better. Obviously he was wrong.He continued to look through different sketchbooks but then there was one that he hadn’t expected to find.

This one had a photograph of the two of you glued to the first page. Then as Dean flipped through the pages he realized you had drawn pictures of him, each of them were dated and from what he could tell you often wondered what he would look like over the years or even what he did for a living, judging from the different uniforms you drew him in.

“I didn’t think you’re talents could get any better. You were already really good back then.” Dean finally spoke, but you ignored him.

Dean looked up at you and saw you were focused on your artwork. He closed the book he had in his palm before he put it back on the bookshelf and he walked over.

“What are you working on now?” He asked and started looking over your shoulder. He watched as you were drawing some sort of steampunk looking piece, as if it were some sort of Cinderella alternate reality.

“Cover ideas.” Your shortness didn’t surprise him but it still stung nonetheless. He let out a sigh before he tried to speak again.

“Look, at the bar I didn’t mean for you to misunderstand anything. I was really happy to see you there.”

“Dean, what was there to misunderstand? You’re an agent here to do a job and walk right out of my life all over again, leaving me with no clue as to where you’re going or if you even care to see me ever again. Danielle was right. And I should have forgotten about you decades ago.”

“It’s not as heartless as it sounds. I can’t afford to just catch up with anyone i want to, I can’t afford any kind of closeness with anybody. You have no idea how many enemies I’ve made with this job, how many innocent lives have been ruined, how many people have gotten hurt or worse just because they knew me.” Dean tried to explain but you scoffed and tossed your sketchbook to the side.

“That’s a coward’s answer. Lots of FBI agents have families. That means they’re brave enough to take the risk. But I get it, a simple conversation that isn’t work related isn’t worth the risk. I’m not worth the risk, I get it.”

“Y/N, that’s not what I’m saying!”

“Isn’t it though? It may not be your exact words but that’s the implication.” You got up from your spot and started walking to the kitchen.

Dean’s jaw tightened and his brows narrowed before he started to follow you into the kitchen.

“Alright, you want the truth?! This job sucks and I’ve gotten attached to people like you and the moment I let my guard down, ninety percent of the time those people die. Knowing me is a death sentence. My brother and I have lost too many people because of it. I can’t let you die like that because some monster takes it upon itself to break in and gut you up just because you know me.”

You, under the impression Dean was using the word ‘monster’ as some term for a serial killer or some sick sort of human being, scoffed. “Please, I’m plenty capable of protecting myself against some killer. You make it sound like the Boogyman’s after you.”

“The thing that killed your friend could easily kill you too and you can’t protect yourself from any of them, Y/N! You don’t know the kind of shit that’s out there. I didn’t expect you to be a part of this job and trust me if you weren’t involved I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Thanks, Dean. That makes me feel a thousand times better. And what kind of thing do you think will come after me, huh? Nothing could be that bad. Bad people do eventually get caught.” You said and you opened the refrigerator door to grab something to drink.

Dean rubbed a hand over the lower half of his face, wondering if he really needed to risk telling you the truth after all. You were being so difficult but you didn’t even understand the shit he’s ever seen.

“The think that’s killing your coworkers and your boss’ wife isn’t just any bad guy. You have no idea what we’re going up against.” Dean’s voice was a little calmer, yet still deadly serious. You turned around to see if he’d elaborate or if he’d keep you in the dark just as he always has.

“The business that I told you I was in with my brother and my dad… it’s sort of um.. a traveling extermination business. Sam isn’t my partner in the FBI. Neither of us are agents. He’s my brother, and we hunt monsters. Vampires, werewolves, demons, doppelgängers… every ugly ass creature you can think of, we’ve probably killed before.” Dean finally confessed.

Your brows arched upward with shock. This was the excuse Dean decided to give you? This was why he avoided you all these years and he really expected you to believe he was hunting monsters like Van Helsing? Yeah right.

“Monsters? Really? Dean if you aren’t going to tell me the truth I think you should just leave. I don’t want to see you around here anymore.” You said, growing angrier the more you saw him, hurting even more knowing he would lie to your face like this.

“Y/N, name someone in this town that would gut innocent people and steal their hearts. That’s something a werewolf has been known to do in my field and they are stronger than you can handle.” He was still insisting you believe these lies?!

“Dean, I’m serious. I’m not buying this story of yours, okay? Why don’t you just go with Sam to make sure Danielle and her boyfriend are alright.” You said and when you went to brush past him, you felt his strong grip on your upper arm and you looked up at him.

“This isn’t just a story, Y/N. It’s the ugly reality.” He told you and you searched his eyes.

What the hell had Dean seen over the years that made him so sincere about this? You swore he had to be crazy if he expected you to believe this whole monster thing like he believed it. But before you could ask any questions about it, Dean’s phone started ringing.

Dean sighed a little before he let go of your arm just to answer the phone, figuring it must’ve been Sam.

“Sam? What’s happening?”

“Dean, it was Danielle’s boyfriend. He was one of them. Danielle and I were safe and I took care of Chris but maybe one of his guys broke in and knocked me out or something. I can’t find Danielle anywhere. They took her belongings too. I don’t know where they could have taken her.” Sam said on the other line.

You must’ve heard bits and pieces of what Sam was saying because when Dean looked at you, he saw the stunned expression on your face and he watched as you started looking around to find your shoes to put on.

“Are you sure they took her? What if she had something to do with it? Did you do the test on her?” Dean asked.

“Test? What test? Dean what the hell is going on?!” You asked, wanting to know if your friend was alright. What test could they have possibly been talking about? None of this made any sense.

“I’ll explain in a second just hang on, alright? Sam, how fast can you get here?” Dan asked, turning his attention back to his brother.

“I couldn’t tell you. You and I may have to meet somewhere on foot. They took the car.” Sam said and Dean’s eyes went wide.

“You let them take the car?! What happened to you being the responsible brother, huh?” Dean asked and he ran a hand through his hair.

“Wait wait.. I found something. Dean it’s a notebook with all the workers’ addresses on them. Y/N’s name is circled. She’s bound to be next and I don’t see Danielle’s name anywhere on this list.” Sam explained and that was when Dean heard the familiar roar of the impala from outside.

“I think she’s here. Sam, You need to find Nelson and find out what the hell happened on that hunt.” Dean said sternly and your brows narrowed with confusion.

“Nelson? How can he be a part of this? What hunt are you talking about? He’s not a hunting kind of guy.” You said, thinking Dean meant hunting wildlife and you still refused to believe this whole monster killing story.

Dean hung up the phone before he looked over at you while shoving the phone in his pocket, “You need to go in your room. Lock the door and don’t you dare come out until I tell you it’s safe.”

“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on, Winchester! What happened to my friend?”

Dean shook his head, “She stopped being your friend a long time ago. I need you to just trust me and stay out of the way until I tell you it’s safe. I promise I’ll explain everything when this is over.”

As much as you desperately wanted to argue with Dean, you could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t going to argue because this was no longer up for any debate, let alone discussion. You bit your tongue to keep from saying anything else and you walked towards your bedroom and shut the door behind you. But you didn’t lock the door as Dean advised. If what Dean was saying was really true, then you had to see it for yourself.

Dean took the gun he had from behind his back and he made sure there was plenty of ammunition. Once he found he had plenty of silver bullets on him, he made sure to keep it on him so he’d be prepared for when Danielle would come in. No wonder she seemed hesitant to leave with Sam. She had a job to do and he was willing to bet she was the one that killed Callie. Some actress.

Before Dean could even think about anything else, the door was suddenly kicked down and not only was it Danielle that walked through the door but there were two guys that were about Sam’s height dressed in leather like they were a couple of bikers from the bar or something. Sort of matched the charisma, or lack of, that Callie’s former boyfriend was talking about.

“Well well… You were just gonna spend the night with your friend and when she least expected it, you’d kill her like you killed Callie, huh?” Dean said as he lifted the gun to aim at their direction.

“Oh what would you know. Nelson deserves what he’s got coming. But it serves him right to watch everything he worked for fall apart, just like he did with my father’s pack.” Danielle seethed.

You could faintly hear the conversation from behind your bedroom door and your heart sank. Danielle was going to kill you? That was why she asked if she could spend the night? Why would she do that? She was one of your good friends, or at least that’s what you hoped. Clearly you were wrong, but what was this talk about a pack?

You reached up and carefully turned the knob, doing your best to keep quiet and you slowly started to open the door so you could hear things a little bit better. You simply cracked it open, not wanting to give your location away completely.

“Come on, you know Y/N better than anyone and you knew Callie better than anyone. You know damned well neither of them deserve what you’re doing to them. They’re good people and you know it.” You could hear Dean say but Danielle scoffed.

“My father was a good man before your kind took it upon yourselves to massacre my family! We never hunted anyone, strictly animals because my father wanted to be civilized. Live under the radar and stay clear of hunters. But Nelson… Nelson decided all of us are the same ugly things that keep you up at night. When he killed my family there was anarchy. I took the lead and said to Hell with it, we’re going after Nelson in the most.. traditional.. way possible. Show him the monsters he wanted us to be.” You could hear Danielle say, but your heart sank down to your feet.

Dean was right, she must’ve never been your friend if this was her plan all along. You felt so naive, gullible and stupid.

“Come on, Danielle, don’t make me pull this trigger on you and your friends. You think this is what your family would have wanted you to become?” Dean retorted.

“Who cares how I avenge them. This is how I’m getting my payback against Nelson and I’m not letting you, Sam, or any other hunter stand in my way.” Danielle said and from what you heard a fight broke out after that.

You heard furniture get moved around, you flinched at the sound of a vase shattering to the floor. Slowly, you moved to where you could look through the crack in the door. You finally saw the truth of what was out there. Your friend and her two companions had fangs, their fingernails turned to claws, their eyes changed color. You couldn’t believe what you saw, and you didn’t think werewolves could possibly be real. All of it felt so unbelievable.

Your eyes widened when you saw Dean get knocked to the ground. You didn’t know what to do but you could tell that Dean was starting to lose the fight. Everything in your was screaming to help him but you didn’t know how to fight these things. What if you did something wrong and Dean died because of you?

Still, as Dean was wrestling with one of the werewolves on the floor you saw him drop the gun and the weapon slid on the ground towards your door. This was your chance to do something. You just hoped that things wouldn’t go wrong.

You took in a deep breath before you opened the door wider and stepped out of the room.

Dean heard the door creaking open and he saw you standing there. Were you nuts?! What the hell were you doing?!

“Y/N! Get back inside!” He called out but he watched as you ignored him and rushed to get to the gun and you picked it up.

You could feel your heart beating fast and before you could think, you realized one of the wolves was coming after you and you aired the gun and you closed your eyes before you took a shot. When you opened one of your eyes, you saw that the werewolf was on the ground with a gunshot wound to the chest.

The werewolf above Dean was distracted by the gunshot and when the creature looked over at you, Dean took the opportunity take a shot and kick the werewolf off of him. Then, Dean rushed over to you while you were stunned about what you’ve done.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You did what you needed to, now go back to the room and I’ll finish up.” Dean said and you hesitantly nodded as you backed away and stayed in your room but you couldn’t help but to keep watching everything unfold in front of you.

You watched as Dean was fighting both Danielle and the other man she came with and Dean managed to shoot the man Danielle was with and she knocked out your former friend. The next thing you knew, Dean stood over the unconscious creature and shot her in the heart so she’d never wake up again.

You didn’t know what you should be feeling in that moment. Should you be angry that Danielle was never your friend, but a monster? Should you be angry that Dean had knocked out the person you thought was your ally?

When you slowly walked out of your bedroom again you walked over to your friend. You saw the claws on her fingers and her fangs still showed. You wondered if this was just some sort of never-ending nightmare. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do and it felt like you had been blind to so many things your entire life. Your world was turning upside down.

Dean saw the look on your face as you looked down at the corpse. He could tell you were questioning so many things right now and he never wanted things to be this way. He never wanted you to get wrapped up in this horrific bullshit of a hunting life and he never wanted you to know what was out there.

“Do you believe me now?” He asked softly, but you gave him no response.

“Y/N… I never wanted you to find out about any of this. That’s why I never told you much about my family or what we did.” He said in a gentler tone and you ran your fingers though your hair.

“Well now I know, Dean. I can’t just unsee everything that just happened.” You said softly and you felt a soft hand on your shoulder. You looked up and saw Dean looking up at you.

“Is it at least over now?” You asked.

“I’m not sure. It should be over if Danielle was the leader of this new pack, but I have to check with Sam if there were any indications of any other members of the pack and if he got in contact with Nelson again.” Dean replied and you looked back down at the body.

“She was the sweet one out of the three of us. She seemed so concerned about Callie when we hadn’t heard from her for several days… I never would’ve seen the attack coming.”

Dean frowned a little when you spoke, knowing all of this had to be a lot to take in for you.

“Let me call Sam and see if he’s got everything squared away on his end, if he was able to talk to Nelson and everything.” He said and you nodded as you walked away from the bodies and went to your bedroom again.

Dean watched you walking away, knowing your life was forever altered at this point. He pulled out his phone again and he dialed up Sam’s number. Luckily he didn’t need to wait long for an answer.

“Dean? Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah… turns out Danielle wasn’t as innocent as she lead on. She and two other wolves are dead.”

“How did Y/N take all of it? She alright?”

“Honestly I don’t know, Sammy… It might take her a little time with Danielle specifically. You get in contact with Nelson?”

“Well… yes and no.” Sam replied and Dean lifted a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Well when I tried calling him there was no answer. So I took a taxi to his house and when I walked in, it looked like another attack. I guess someone caught word that you were facing the new leader and they wanted to make sure the main goal was accomplished so it looks like they killed Nelson before I had the chance to talk to him.”

“Shit… so what does that mean? Do you think they’ll still go after people working in the bar?” Dean asked.

“I’m not so sure… I think we may need to stay a few days and lie low to see what happens. It’s better to be safe than sorry.” Sam insisted and Dean looked over at your bedroom and saw you sitting on the corner of your bed, disassociating because of everything that transpired.

“Yeah… That might the best option. You think you can swing by to help me take care of these bodies and get Y/N somewhere safe? You said the werewolves had addresses in that notebook right? I think she may need to stay with us for a few days just incase anyone tries to go after her again.” Dean insisted.

“Yeah, just give me about fifteen minutes and I’ll be there.”

When Sam and Dean hung up, Dean walked over to the bedroom and towards you. He knelt in front of you and saw you were just spacing out and thinking of so many different things, he could practically see it on your face how lost you were.

“Hey, you’re gonna be okay. I promise.” He said and he placed a hand on one of your knees, which broke your trance and you looked down at his hand then back at him.

“Dean… I’ve never even shot a gun at a person before… I just killed someone.” You said in such a timid little tone.

“Y/N, you’ve got to realize that wasn’t a person. None of them were. Not anymore. They would have killed you, your coworkers, and who knows who else they would have killed if you hadn’t helped stop them.”

“Danielle… was a person to me. I can’t believe she lied to me like that. Then again what the hell do I know about anything anymore. You must think I’m so stupid for not listening to you before.” You scoffed and your eyes started welling up with tears, one slipping from your face and you swiftly wiped it away.

“It’s natural to have doubts. I know what I was telling you is hard for a lot of people to believe. I wasn’t expecting you to believe me instantly. Stuff like this isn’t easy to take in.” he continued and you looked back at Dean again.

“What am I supposed to do now? Where do I go from here? Am I going to get in trouble with the police? Surely my neighbors heard the gunshots.” You started to ramble.

“The cops are bound to show, but they still think Sammy and I are FBI agents. We claim self defense which unfortunately ended in fatalities.” Dean answered.

“You make it sound so simple.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Sweetheart.” Dean said before he moved his hand from your knee and he held one of your hands.

“But as far as beyond the police are concerned… We don’t know if there are more werewolves. So after Sam and I handle the police when they come, I think it would be better if you stayed with me and Sam. Just for a few days until we know there won’t be anymore attacks against you or any of your other coworkers. They have your address so we don’t think you’ll be safe here right now.” He continued.

You bit down on your bottom lip before you nodded a little, deciding to go with Dean after all. You didn’t exactly want to be alone after tonight, but maybe you’d be alright after a few days.

“Okay… Let me pack some clothes before I go with you.”

A few days went by and things seemed to settle down. You had found out Nelson passed away and the cops connected Danielle to the murders so they believed Dean’s claim of self defense. Not that you were really surprised. Dean seemed to be a pretty good liar when it came to the cops.

There weren’t anymore threats against you at least that you knew of, and now that it’s been a week of silence, Dean said it was safe for you to go back home and now you were riding with him in the impala.

The car ride was quiet, as if the both of you knew this week long journey was coming to a close and you weren’t sure if you would ever see him again. You wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t see him again, knowing he’d more than likely say the same things as he did in the argument before the attack. It was disheartening to know that Dean didn’t want to take a chance.

When the two of you made it to your apartment, it was like nothing had ever happened. Only because Sam and Dean went out of their way to clean up the bodies. Naturally some things did need some replacing like the vase, or the living room couch that had been splattered with blood, but you would get those things on your own since you had been looking into buying a new couch anyway. But it was sweet that Sam and Dean took it upon themselves to help as much as they could.

“Well… I guess this is the part where I take off.” Dean said and you looked over at him.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’m a crummy cook but I can order something. My treat. It’s really the least I can do after you saved me and helped clean the place up after everything.” You insisted.

Lucky for you, Dean didn’t really put up much of a fight so he followed you into your home. Dean sat at one of the love seats since you no longer had a couch at the moment and you sat down on the recliner as you pulled out your laptop to see what you should order.

“Chinese sound alright to you?” You asked and Dean smiled a little.

“Whatever you want to order’s fine.” He replied and you pouted a little.

“Dean, this is supposed to be for you as a thank you. I need a little help here since I’m not exactly a mind reader.” You said and Dean let out a little chuckle before he tried to think.

“What about a burger and some fries?” He said then it was your turn to smirk.

“Diner food again? Sure.” You snickered, “Want anything else with that?”

“Maybe some pie.” Dean said and somehow you knew that was a must, considering he just went through a whole pie in three days during the week you stayed with them.

“Sure thing.” You insisted and you started placing the order online for delivery and a couple of minutes later, the order was completed.

“It should be here in thirty minutes or so.” You said, shutting your computer and you set it down on the coffee table.

“You know you didn’t have to order anything.” Dean replied and you smiled.

“Again, it’s the least I could do.” You insisted

You and Dean were watching a show just to think of how to kill some time but the two of you settled on some sort of cartoon. You and Dean couldn’t find anything decent so the Boomerang channel seemed to be a better option at least for the time being.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t… have to hit the road after today, do you?” You asked and Dean looked at you.

“Well… I mean that’s what I normally do with cases. I never really stay in the same place for a long time. There’s a lot more than just werewolves to worry about and… and well it’s better if Sam and I kept on moving.” He said, looking away from you even though he could still feel your gaze on him.

“Don’t you ever just slow down? Catch a break? Surely there are other hunters out there that can handle the stuff you do.” You said and Dean shook his head.

“Not really… the stuff Sam and I see… they’re pretty much apocalyptic and we can’t put that on anyone else. It’s our responsibility, our burden to bare and it’s a death sentence to bring anyone else into it.” He said and you scoffed a little, causing him to look at you again.

“What?”

“You and your liking for the coward’s way out.” You said, recalling the argument again when he gave a shitty excuse as to why he didn’t get close to people.

“It’s not a coward’s way, Y/N. It’s reality. You saw yourself what’s out there. And I’m risking a lot just being here right now.” He said and you rolled your eyes before you got up and went to your room.

Dean lifted a brow before he got up and followed you. When he did he noticed you were looking for something and he couldn’t help but tilt his head as he leaned against the doorframe.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Looking for something.”

“I can see that.” He said and watched you pull out a box. He didn’t see a whole lot inside until you pushed it towards the end of the bed. That’s when he saw a few shirts and cassettes, mementos of that summer.

“You don’t realize how many lives you affect when you travel, Dean. I know I can’t possibly be the only girl you’ve come across just to leave behind. And from what I can tell, I’m not the only one that could have died but survived. But when you just leave people behind you take a piece of them with you and it’s like you don’t even realize it. You’re too blind with the whole idea of keeping your distance that you don’t realize the people you hurt along the way by not giving them a chance.”You began and Dean lifted a brow.

“Y/N, I’ve gave people chances and they still lose their lives. You’re right, you aren’t the only woman I’ve come across. But once I get too close they get killed. The last one got hurt severely so I had a friend erase her memory to forget everything about me. It’s to keep her safe and I can’t lose anyone else.” He told you.

“Do you realize how you’re making yourself sound, Dean?”

“What do you mean?”

“As far as hunting, you’re bound to be one of the strongest men that I know. Not that I know many- obviously. But what makes you a coward and what makes you selfish is the fact that you can’t allow yourself to be close to someone long enough to know if they’re willing to stay with you even if this life is tough. Hunting is scary shit, I know that now. But you don’t deserve to go through it alone. It’s unfair to you.” You said.

“I don’t deserve that sort of fairness. If you knew half the things I’ve done-“

“Do you think any of that matters to me, Dean?” You set the box down on the floor again before you walked towards him.

“I don’t know much of what you’ve done all these years, and I don’t know the pain you’ve gone through. But I know that no one should ever have to be alone like that. I can tell just by looking at you that you’ve been through a lot. You deserve to have someone by your side to at least give you some sort of relief from this life every once in a while, give you a break from your ‘apocalyptic’ stressors.” You said and took a bold move by taking one of his hands.

Dean looked down at your hand with his before lifting his gaze to meet your own.

“But what happens if you get hurt, or worse? I can’t stand that risk, not with someone like you.” He said gently and you sighed a little before you gave his hand a little squeeze.

“Didn’t you ever think about me accepting that risk? You can teach me a lot and I’m willing to learn. Obviously I won’t have as much experience as you and I never will, but you can teach me enough to defend myself so you won’t have to worry about me so much.” You were trying so hard to compromise and Dean could tell.

What seemed to surprise Dean the most was that you were actually willing to learn how to hunt. You were actually willing to be a part of this much shittier side of life. It was amazing that out of the choices you had, this was the one you were willing to make.

“What about your art? Or the bar?” He asked and you shrugged.

“I can still work on art. The bar was just to keep my lights on. And now that both my friends are dead… I don’t really have anything keeping me bartending.” You explained.

“But what if-“

“Stop with the what ifs and the hypotheticals. Please?” You said, practically begging him to stop trying to make excuses for you to not join him. You didn’t have anything left going for you here.

Dean looked down at the floor between both of you as he tried to think of his best options. So many things swirling through his head about how things could go wrong. How would be able to protect you? How quickly would you be able to learn everything he’d have to teach you? If anything they could always use the help with research while he and Sam were on the field. But what happens if you were researching while he and Sam were out on the field working and something happened to you while he wasn’t there?

You could practically see the gears turning in his mind with how so many things could go wrong and you reached up, touching his face gently.

“This is the kind of thing I’m talking about. You’re thinking about so much already. You have so much on your shoulders, I can see it.” You said softly and he started looking at you, gaze softening as he started to relax against your touch.

“You don’t deserve to carry that stress…” You whispered and leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek, close to his mouth.

“Let me be at least some sort of distraction.” He listened to your voice barely above a whisper and he could barely feel your lips against his cheek.

Dean carefully moved his head and your faces were so close to each other. One small movement and he’d have his lips over yours if either of you simply leaned forward.

“Do you think you could handle everything you’d distract me from?” He asked, his mind slowly starting to open up to the idea of you coming along even if he still had an overwhelming reluctance within himself. Still, he felt your thumb lightly graze his cheekbone.

“I wouldn’t be asking to go with you if I wasn’t willing to try. I could never fathom everything. You’ve been through, but I can try to make it easier even if it’s for a moment.”

Dean tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as if he were still thinking about it before he lifted a hand and brought it to the back of your neck. He felt the way you seemed to melt into him but all he could think of was how he let Jo and Lisa down.

“Please… just give me a chance.” Your voice broke him from his thoughts, or at least a strand of them. Only to start a new strand.

Dean started to think of the two weeks he spent with you. Those two weeks he had never felt so normal, even happy because of you. It was like the hunting world hadn’t even existed for that amount of time when he was with you even if he was supposed to be working on a job. Seeing you happy and realizing he could make the world safe, make sure you were safe, that’s what gave him the reason to hunt that summer. He thought back to the drawing you had given him, knowing he had never forgotten you over the years and knew he never could. He remembered the way you made him feel and a part of him now was screaming not to let you go like that again. John wasn’t in the picture anymore to lecture him like a child about who he told about hunting. He was a grown man and you were a grown woman, and you were begging him to take you along. He knew you were capable after watching you kill one of the werewolves when you were attacked. So why shouldn’t you come along?

He remembered just how Jo passed, how so many others have passed and who he’s lost and his jaw tightened for a moment.

“You have to promise me that you’ll listen to everything I tell you on a hunt, swear that you’ll listen to every precaution Sam and I tell you. When there is a plan, you stick to the plan so you don’t get hurt.” He said, tone stern with a certain gentleness about it.

You softened, realizing that he’d likely be so cautious with you and you wondered just how many people he’s lost with this life. But you knew that’s something you might never know. You could tell it was taking a lot for him to even think about you coming along.

“Promise.” You swore.

Dean then leaned down and he was so close to pressing his lips on yours. Your noses barely brushed against each other with how close he was and eat somehow he was already at ease. He didn’t know exactly what made it so easy, but it had felt like ages since he was able to feel this calm, decades since his mind finally slowed down just because of a small action like this.

The abrupt sound of someone knocking on the door interrupted the moment and the both of you pulled away before you had the chance to kiss. The voice on the other side of the door alerted you that it was just the delivery guy. He heard the way you sighed with a little irritation and he cracked a small smile at the reaction.

He let go of you so you could tend to the guy at the door. After you paid the guy you set the food on the coffee table just as he was walking out of your bedroom. You were in the process of pulling everything out of the plastic bags but Dean kept his gaze on you.

“I’m not kidding, though.” Dean said, his mind going back to the roller coaster it always was, but you gazed up at him.

“I know you’re serious. I’m not a child, Dean. I’ll be careful, but you and Sam will still need to teach me a few things. Plans have to change sometimes and we have to adapt. Nothing in life is cut and dry so you’ll have to trust me to take care of myself too.” You said, and that was the part Dean may have the issue with at least for a while.

“That… may take me a little time to do.” He warned and you walked over and handed him the bag with his burger in it.

“Naturally.” You replied and he was surprised you were taking this so well.

“I’m not expecting things to be smooth right away and for you to be so nonchalant with me on a hunt. So long as you’ll eventually be able to trust me on these things, then it’ll be fine. I’m a bit of a fast learner so we’ll get there eventually.” You promised before you sat down.

Dean listened and smiled slightly. He knew you’d need that determination. It’d be a good thing to have especially when he and Sam were both so close to having enough when it came to facing demons and angels. But trust.. he knew that would be the biggest thing he’d need to work on.

Dean knew he could trust you with certain things. He could trust your willingness to learn, trust your ability to adapt to a changed plan quickly, but he didn’t trust other factors of a case and when things would inevitably go wrong. Maybe the more you’d be around, the more he’d get better at that.

Either way… it would be nice to have you around, at least to let him forget about his own personal hell once in a while.

“You gonna join me or am I going to have to eat and watch Scooby Doo by myself?” You asked, breaking Dean away again. He smiled before he walked over to join you in the living room where you moved the seats closer to the coffee table.

One day it will be easier to let his worries go, easier to let the weight on his shoulders get a little lighter, and Dean hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d be the one that could help him along that journey.

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