#i have no desire to know anything about this

[kiragecko]

I decided to do this for the Batfamily. (Preboot version, because I disagree with DC's modern decisions.)

If the Batfam were queer, how would they talk about it?

Dick - awkward and tentative. No clue when he picked up the terminology he's using, but it's probably pretty general/balanced¹. He's not going to be using microlabels, but may have done a reasonable amount of research on whatever term he's accepted. Possibly the most ashamed out of everyone? Look, people haven't been very gentle with him about his romantic, sexual, or personal choices. And he's internalized that. I could see him EVENTUALLY being comfortably open about his identity, but that would be a long journey.

Babs - only talks to romantic partners, if she can help it. Clinical. Probably also prickly. Maybe dismissive. More focused on how it will affect their relationship than on how it affects her, or on specific terms. But also the most likely to explain the split attraction model, or pull up a graph? Possibly she'd shift tactics based on what her partner was comfortable with. Probably it would be to tactics her partner was LESS comfortable with? Babs, make things easier for yourself!

Jason - What flavour of fanon are we using here? Or canon? Using slurs that the people he grew up used for themselves could be accurate. Reading up on all the latest terminology so he can support the street kids seems in character for some versions. (He sounds like he's reading from a brochure, but like he's a counsellor reading from a brochure for your benefit!) Not having thought about it at all because he's been 'somewhat' distracted for most of his life seems VERY likely! Jason contains multitudes.

Tim - avoiding this conversation at all costs. Refuses to use labels. Might describe his experience, awkwardly, if he needed to, but would get distressed if you tried to give it a name. He might be able to accept BEING some flavour of queer, but openly talking about it in ways people can use against him? That might affect social standing and job opportunities? That might disappoint authority figures? No. Most likely to use a fake identity to explore. Has almost certainly done all the research, KNOWS current terminology, and will use it for other people. Just don't suggest he applies it to himself.

Steph - Would probably get extremely attached to language when first accepting it. Maybe to the point of policing things a bit. Because she's defensive and has spent her whole life being policed and judged! MIGHT sound like she was reading out of a college brochure. Possibly DID read it out of a college brochure!

Cass - summarizes complex topics into a 2 or 3 word sentence, and if you aren't following along, that's on YOU. Might like listening to someone else explain their extremely nuanced identity. Might be impatient. It's a toss-up, depending on how obvious she thinks things are, how much you seem to be overcomplicating it, and how much she's picking up from HOW you're saying it. I hope she figures herself out before she learns TOO much terminology, because later Cass respected words a bit too highly, and I want her to be able to understand the fluidity of self without thinking it NEEDS boxes.

Damian - okay, preteen Damian doesn't WANT to know about any of this, thank you. Many preteens do! Damian does not. Damian wants to join in on every rape and hate crime investigation, and also thinks kissing is gross. Wrangling and protecting Damian is a challenge. Older Damian would probably use microlabels, if any applied. (And he felt safe saying anything.) Accuracy is always to be desired! Also, they fit his worldview of exceptionality and isolation.

Duke - I think he'd be pretty comfortable with general, broadly understood, terminology. But he might struggle if that stuff didn't fit. Feeling compelled to explain the nuances of self seems like something he'd find really uncomfortable? So I can see him casually talking about himself if it was easy to talk about, but struggling to be open otherwise. Also, he might get pretty stuck on not being SURE about his identity. How can he talk about it if he might be wrong?? (Tim and Dick might struggle in a similar way, but it would be less obvious because of their other issues.)

Bruce - Extremely likely to used old-fashioned or clinical language, especially if it lets him sound like he's reading out of a psychology text-book. Most likely to accept the language without internalizing the identity. (It might be accurate, but that doesn't mean he needs to ACT on it.) Also most likely to have accept-ED some term 25 years ago and then just never brought it up again or acknowledged it in any way.

Alfred - wouldn't talk about it at all. Relationships are private. If it was important to do so, would use euphemisms like 'close to', 'cared for', 'did a small amount of exploration', etc.

-

¹ I kind of think of modern queer identities coming in 3 broad categories:

general - uses language like 'queer', 'LGBT', 'nonbinary' - commonly understood umbrella terms. Prioritizes fluidity of identity and connection with community over precise description

balanced - prioritizes connection with people of similar experiences, uses broad subcategories like 'gay', and 'trans', or combines broad terms together to suggest more precision, like 'nonbinary lesbian'.

microlabels - breaks down identities into more precise subsets like 'greyace', 'fem-aligned androgyne', 'genderfae', etc. Precise understanding of self prioritized over other people's understanding or connection.

'Microlabels' as shorthand is often used to mock people, so I thought it helpful to explain where I'm coming from.

he would not fucking say that but it’s he would not fucking talk about his queer identity like he was reading out of a college campus lgbt center brochure

[gottencents]

Fallin’ All In You - Giselle

pairing. idol!giselle x girlfriend!reader

synopsis. giselle playfully takes on the role of makeup artist while sitting on Y/N’s lap, turning every brushstroke into an excuse for a kisses.

The soft hum of lo-fi music filled the cozy living room, sunlight filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow across the scattered makeup on the coffee table. Brushes, palettes, and foundation bottles were spread out in a chaotic but intentional mess—courtesy of Giselle.

Y/N sat on the couch, leaned back comfortably, arms resting lazily on the cushions as Giselle settled herself on her lap. Her knees framed Y/N’s thighs, and her weight was perfectly balanced. She had a brush in one hand and a mischievous glint in her eye, which only meant trouble.

“Alright, sit still,” Giselle instructed, her voice light but authoritative. “I’m making you my masterpiece.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And by masterpiece, you mean clown, right?”

Giselle gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. “How dare you? I’m an artist!” She leaned in closer, their faces just inches apart, her expression softening into a grin. “Besides, you’re already too pretty to mess up.”

Before Y/N could respond, Giselle pressed a soft kiss to her cheek—just a brief touch of her lips, but enough to make Y/N’s heart stumble.

“Is kissing part of the makeup process now?” Y/N teased, her hands naturally resting on Giselle’s waist to steady her.

Giselle pretended to think, swirling the foundation brush in her hand. “Hmm… It is now. It’s called the kiss-and-glam method. Super effective.”

Y/N chuckled, her eyes following Giselle’s every move as she dabbed foundation onto her face. She was meticulous yet playful, her concentration occasionally interrupted by her own desire to lean in and sneak another kiss.

“There,” Giselle said after applying a thin layer. She tilted her head to inspect her work, her fingertips grazing Y/N’s jawline. “Flawless.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You barely did anything.”

Giselle grinned, grabbing a blush brush. “Patience, baby. Perfection takes time.” She lightly dusted Y/N’s cheeks with blush, leaning in close as she worked. Y/N could feel her breath against her skin, warm and comforting.

“Oops,” Giselle whispered, biting her lip as she lightly tapped the brush against Y/N’s nose. “Too much blush.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Guess you’ll have to kiss it better.”

Giselle didn’t hesitate. She leaned in, brushing her lips against the tip of Y/N’s nose in a soft kiss before pulling back, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Better?”

“Much,” Y/N replied, her voice dropping slightly, a playful challenge in her tone.

Giselle moved on to the eyeshadow palette, choosing a soft shimmer. As she leaned in to apply it, her body shifted slightly on Y/N’s lap, sending a jolt of awareness through both of them. Y/N’s fingers tightened their grip on Giselle’s waist instinctively, and for a moment, the air between them felt thicker.

“You’re staring,” Giselle said without looking up, her voice teasing.

“Can you blame me?” Y/N shot back, her eyes lingering on Giselle’s lips. “You’re kind of hard to ignore when you’re sitting on me like this.”

Giselle paused, her eyes meeting Y/N’s. A slow smile spread across her face as she set the eyeshadow palette aside. “You’re distracting me, you know that?”

“I thought that was your job,” Y/N said, her fingers lightly tracing circles on Giselle’s waist.

Giselle leaned down, their faces barely an inch apart. “Maybe it is,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Y/N smirked, her eyes flicking to Giselle’s lips and back up. “I might kiss you until you forget what you were doing.”

“Tempting,” Giselle murmured, brushing her thumb along Y/N’s jawline. “But you’ll have to catch me first.”

Before Y/N could respond, Giselle leaned in and kissed her again—this time, slow and deliberate. Her lips were soft, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary before pulling away.

Y/N blinked, slightly dazed. “That’s not fair.”

Giselle giggled, resting her forehead against Y/N’s. “Life’s not fair. But I’ll make it up to you.”

Her lips found Y/N’s again, this time with more certainty. The kiss deepened, and Y/N’s hands slid up Giselle’s back, holding her close. The rest of the world faded away—no music, no makeup brushes—just the warmth of Giselle’s body pressed against hers and the electric connection that seemed to hum between them.

When they finally pulled back for air, Giselle smiled, her cheeks flushed. “Forget the makeup,” she said breathlessly. “I think you look perfect just like this.”

Y/N grinned, her thumb gently brushing a stray strand of hair from Giselle’s face. “I told you, I was already pretty.”

“Yeah,” Giselle whispered, her eyes soft. “But you’re also mine.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at the words, pulling Giselle in for one more kiss—slow and sweet, a promise sealed in the warmth of their embrace.

The makeup could wait. This moment? It was too good to let go.

[sunseed-fandump]

The Tarot from the new trailer has me FLIPPING OUT (Sorry for the shitty screenshot) I was already making an analysis on the previous cards we got, but THIS has really got me doing backflips in my head because of the implications.

Let me explain.

First off, have you noticed that one of these cards is not like the others?

The first card, Strawberry Cookie, is in reverse. She is on the major arcana card XII - The Hanged Man. When the Hanged Man is in Reverse, it represents Delays, resistance, stalling, indecision, stagnation.

"The upright Hanged Man encourages you to pause for a moment and see things from a different perspective. Reversed, this card can show that you know you need to hit the pause button, but you are resisting it. Instead, you fill your days with tasks and projects, keeping busy and distracting yourself from the actual issue that needs your attention. Your spirit and body are asking you to slow down, but your mind keeps racing. Stop and rest before it’s too late. The Universe will only dial up the volume if you ignore it, and as a result, you may end up crashing. So, as soon as you hear the call, clear your schedule and make the space so you can tune in and listen."

Next we move on to Gingerbrave's card: 0 - The Fool.

In the Upright Position, the Fool represents new beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit, and adventure.

"To see the The Fool generally means a beginning of a new journey, one where you will be filled with optimism and freedom from the usual constraints in life. When we meet him, he approaches each day as an adventure, in an almost childish way. He believes that anything can happen in life and there are many opportunities that are lying out there, in the world, waiting to be explored and developed. He leads a simple life, having no worries, and does not seem troubled by the fact that he cannot tell what he will encounter ahead."

Finally we have Wizard Cookie's card: I - The Magician.

In the Upright position, the Magician symbolizes logic, desire, resourcefulness, willpower, intelligence, skill, and manifestation.

"When you get the Magician in your reading, it might mean that it's time to tap into your full potential without hesitation. As a master manifestor, The Magician brings you the tools, resources and energy you need to make your dreams come true. Now is the perfect time to move forward on an idea that you recently conceived. The seed of potential has sprouted, and you are being called to take action and bring your intention to fruition. The skills, knowledge and capabilities you have gathered along your life path have led you to where you are now, and whether or not you know it, you are ready to turn your ideas into reality."

So what do these 3 cards mean together? Well, we have someone who is stagnating, who is stuck and unable to move forward. But they go through a rebirth - an epiphany - and start on the path of a new journey. And on that new path they unlock their full potential.

This is Pure Vanilla Cookie's story in the next update in a nutshell!

Sorry for the sorta long post, i just wanted to geek out about this since I love love love it when Tarot is used as a narrative device :)

[littelovelunette]

reader begging sevika to put a baby in them...

Shimmer And Silence G!P

Contains smut, breeding, biting, nipple play, impregnation, mentions of drug and addiction, blowjob

Sevika has always been hard headed and never gave into your desires too quickly but she never understood if it was for the best or not.

Shimmer often made her cranky and violent from time to time and being her wife, you didn't like that she made herself get high on the drug so damn often due to her loyalty and work for Silco.

It hurt, because despite wanting to settle down badly you could barely even imagine bringing the topic up to her because what if she didn't approve of your needs and had a Shimmer crashout.

Sighing to yourself, you made the bed as usual and got to doing the chores. You were used to your housewife routine by now.

You'd work at home and ensure she had a clean and cozy place to come back and rest, by the time she's done fighting for Zaun for the day.

You'd approach the topic again today and try to get her to understand that you wanted to settle down.

It had been 5 years you both were married together after all and in all honesty, whether Zaun got free or not life wouldn't pause so you both could settle and find happiness within the battles.

You finished all your work and took a shower, it was evening by then. Sevika was probably gambling after work, she'd be back soon. Maybe drunk, maybe not.

You put on one of your lacy white panties and the matching bra you bought along with it, slipping on one oversized t-shirt over the underwear, you didn't feel like wearing anything else for now.

The door opened and Sevika walked inside, “I'm home,” she called lazily, she didn't go to Last Drop which was a little strange.

Maybe she was just tired.

“Hi, baby,” you smiled and helped her take her poncho off, she walked to the bedroom after giving you a brief kiss, getting out of her clothes.

She laid down and you went over to her, sitting down beside her, “Baby, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Sevika gave you a little nod to acknowledge your words and gesture that she was listening.

“I think we should start trying for kids.”

The silence sunk in the air around both of you. “Did you just say what I think you just said? Or am I mishearing things already?” Sevika asked, her tone a little condescending.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and responded, “I just feel that if we don't, y'know, I'm not getting any younger… I might not be able to even have children. We don't know what the future holds for us,” you placed one hand over her bigger one, rubbing your thumb over the calloused skin, “The battle won't pause so we can have children, please, this is the one thing I really want.”

Sevika stared at you for a while before sighing, shaking her head. “I don't think this is a good idea.”

Exasperated, you shifted so you were now on her lap, “Baby, please,” you said, cupping her face in both your hands as you sighed a little feeling her bulge against your clothed heat.

“You're a tease, y'know that?” Sevika slapped your ass, grabbing the lump of flesh and squeezing, “Fine, I'll give it some thought.”

“No, you always say that and then your mind changes,” you moved a little so her growing bulge could rub against the soaked spot on your panties.

“Just say it, you get off on the thought of me breeding you,” Sevika whispered in your ear, instantly catching you off guard. She grabbed you by your frame and shoved you down on the bed.

“Look, you even dressed up all pretty tonight,” Sevika smirked, raising the hem of the shirt to check out the underwear you had on.

“I just, I thought maybe there'd be a possibility,” you said, face growing hotter with the second.

Sevika tsked, “Bullshit, I bet you're so wet by the thought of me filling you up, filthy little whore having semen dripping from your holes because you can't even hold all of my load inside.”

Sevika's rough, thick fingers rubbed over your pussy, as if readying it for her massive cock. She pulled her pants down just enough for her cock to slap up against her stomach, precum dripping from the tip of her impressively massive shaft.

“Oh my…” you couldn't help reaching forward and grabbing her shaft carefully in your hands.

Sevika placed a hand over her hip, the mechanical arm holding you in place as you started sucking on the tip of her cock.

“Want me to suck you off?” You asked, looking up at her with those pretty puppy eyes and she nodded, guiding your head as you deepthroated her cock with years of experience.

Sevika gasped, fingers entangling themselves in your hair as you sucked her harder. You had to hold on to each side of her muscular thighs to steady yourself as you bobbed your head, the head of her cock slamming into the back of your throat every now and then making you gag and saliva messily ran down your chin giving you a further lewd expression.

Sevika, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. She used your head roughly to get herself off, shooting ropes of cum in your throat, forcing you to swallow it down.

Sevika smirked down at you as you pulled back, catching your breath from the ordeal and then she gestured to you to get on the bed. As you laid down, she undressed you, taking your shirt off, unhooking your bra and lastly pulling your panties down your legs. Sevika was being extra slow just for the sole reason of riling you up and getting you even more wet.

“Sevika, please, put a baby in me,” you began, “I need you to impregnate me, please, I need it.”

“Mhm? Do you need it?” Sevika mocked cock already aligning against your hole and going in with a single thrust.

Your eyes rolled back as she bottomed out and pulled right back out before slamming it back in, hitting that on sweet spot that back you scratch on her back and bite her shoulder.

Sevika loved it when you bit her shoulder like that, it made you wilder and she loved rough sex. Sevika started slamming her huge shaft into you, grunting from the strain of her muscles every now and then, “Gonna fill you up, gonna fill you up to the brim,” she mumbled under her breath, the headboard of the bed slammed against the wall and you were sure the neighbours would likely come down with a noise complaint.

You buried the thought down, crying as Sevika bit your nipple, pulling it with her teeth, “C-C-cumming!” You stuttered and a gush of liquid went over her length, making her eyes close in bliss but she didn't stop there.

She continued ramming into your pussy, her dick throbbing, “Gonna fill you up, take it, slut.” You gasped as you felt the warm semen fill you up, moaning loudly, legs and hands falling back onto the mattress.

You were gonna be a mother soon.

[enwoso]

REGRET IT LATER. | alessia russo 🔞

first ever smut fic, dunno how i feel about it. definitely not the best but i tried! maybe the last smut i write, maybe not x

masterlist | SMUT MDNI 18+

"alessia, we shouldn't-"

"save your regret for later, baby," she cut you off quickly finding your lips and pulling you in for a sloppy kiss.

pinned against the wall, her muscular body pressed against your own. you knew salvation wouldn't come. there wasn't anything, no force of nature that could stop what was bound to happen. that could stop the two of you.

"we're going to regret this tomorrow," you mumbled between the kiss, your voice was hoarse and low, panting. your mind starting to sober up just that little bit as you remembered where you were and who you were with.

"god sake, darling. can you shut your mouth for a second?" she asked with a small smirk, her breath sparse as her hands roamed your body. pinching and poking at any bit of skin they could find. and with the skimpy outfit you were wearing it didn't take much finding.

"always so snappy. wanting to have the last word, control everything.." as the taunting words left alessia's mouth, her right hand started moving painfully slowly.

from your neck to your collarbones, to the valley of your breasts, to your lower belly - applying just enough pressure to hear that small whine slip from your lips once again.

to be able to hear you lose control, losing your morals and everything she had ever believed to of happened between them.

"let go" she whispered so sweetly in your ear, her plump lips brushing against your ear and gently biting your earlobe. "let go my love, i'll take care of you. i promise"

everything was a mess. this wasn't the moment nor the place for it to happen. you weren't even supposed to do as much as look at her - not after the way everything went down between the two of you.

but something about her in a mini skirt and strapless top showing just enough cleavage that you couldn't help but stare, the intoxication smell of her expensive perfume and that goddam smile of hers that makes every thought in your head disappear, being guided by something so basic that you had yet to understand.

"its a.. a fucking club bathroom. anyone could come in?" alessia just groaned, beginning to get annoyed and frustrated. she knew she'd chosen the only girl who wouldn't want her tonight - but she also knew that was merely a facade.

if you thought she hadn't noticed your lingering stared as you sipped slowly at your drink, the way you would hold your breath next to her whenever you were caught slightly by surprise and the desire in your eyes — you couldn't have been more further from being right.

"let them fucking come in, they'll see me and leave in the same instant. i don’t fucking care if- i'll deal with my behaviour tomorrow." she said, staring into your eyes, her tone firm as she reached up to move a strand a hair from out of your face.

"let me take care of you. i know you need it baby. you forget i know you like the back of my hand."

you opened your mouth to come up with some smart retort but she was quicker. alessia's hands went to the back of you thighs, so effortlessly pulling you and lifting you off the ground with ease.

guiding you to the sink countertop and gently placing you there - maybe the only gentle act of the night.

"the more you make those smart lips work the more i'll want to shut you up." she warned with a husky tone, her finger resting lightly on your chin to make you were looking at her.

"and that'll just make me tease you more and not give you what i know you want." you gulped and gave her a small nod although your head hardly moved. you'd never say it out loud, never give her the pleasure of agreeing with her.

you were being difficult but she wouldn't have it any other way. after all alessia was more than happy with the challenge of making you scream her name to prove otherwise.

"good," she said, her thumb tracing your bottom lip as you looked at her. uncertainty, desire and frustration placed behind your heavy eyelids. she could see all of it,

"you're so pretty." alessia whispered, her mouth so close to yours that you could feel her breath. "wouldn't want you to spend the night without anyone else." she paused for a moment, "it'd fucking kill me, darling."

you could barely remember how you'd ended up in the bathroom. how you'd gone from barely being able to look at the blonde to being this close in the span of a few hours.

you knew you'd drank as much as her - the two of you wouldn't be there otherwise, wouldn’t be pinned up only inches away for each other. not when you've claimed to hate each other in past year.

if the two of you were in the right minds, you wouldn't even be in the same room as her.

you remember having a man hit on you as you sat waiting at the bar for your drunk. sure he was attractive for sure but nothing would make you give him any attention.

you remember taking a sip of your cocktail, only just getting your lips around the rim of the glass when alessia abruptly took it out of your hand when she wasn't even that close a few moments before.

her tight grip on your wrist, not enough to hurt you but enough to keep it there as she guided you away from man hitting on you at the bar which was something you could forget.

"what the fuck are you doing alessia?" you asked her with annoyance as she guided you to a more secluded spot. a scowl appearing on your face as you looked back at your overly priced cocktail you'd just bought, not even getting a chance to have a taste of the colourful drink.

"taking you away from that fucking weirdo that was eating you with his eyes-" she retorted, the anger clear in her tone as you took the moment to look at her. and god, you hated admitting it but she did look so good in a such skimpy clothes.

"i'm sorry? but since when did you feel entitled to control my life in any way whatsoever?" you asked with a sarcastic smile, annoyed at her attitude.

the blondes eyebrow quirked as her hands stayed firmly on you, “if you think for one second i’d let you leave the club with that guy with someone that’s not even close to your level-“

she stopped once she realised what she’d said. licking her lips as she sighed, her hands letting go from you as they lingered near you as you looked at her with confusion.

“enlighten me? who is close to my level, then?” you asked with crossed arms, tilting your head. alessia just gave that small, confident grin that she always had.

thank god for her drinks cause only then would she have had the courage to retort you so easily.

“who do you think, darling?”

after that, it was all blurry. a mix of tongues against each other, the taste of her strong drink, her sweet perfume as her hands pulled you closer.

the anger, the frustration, the desire - until stumbling upon the bathroom as they had no other option when lust controlled then the way it did, so easily and effortlessly.

the feeling of the cold tiles of the countertop and alessia's confession brought you back to the moment as you looked into her bright blue eyes.

"i wasn't going to leave with him" you admitted lowly as your eyes falling to her mouth. so, so close that you could remember the taste of them, "i wasn't going to leave with anyone."

alessia seemed rather pleased by your response, her body finding a way to be even closer to yours. despite the two of you being adamant in past months on the fact your hated each other; it was always the same - like magnets being drawn.

all they had been doing, this whole time was prolonging the inevitable. and to be quite honest? alessia was fucking sick of it. 

"good." she whispered, her hand slowly travelling to the inside of your thighs, dangerously close to your warmth as you bit your lip holding back the best you could the whimper that was so likely to slip from your lips.

a grin appeared on her lips at the sight. it was almost as if you were already coming undone from a single and simple movement.

"wouldn't want anyone but me to have the privilege." you looked up through hazy eyes at alessia, suddenly realising how tall she was. how easily she was towering over you and the fact you could barely see past her shoulders.

and with a sudden movement your arms were now resting on her shoulders caressing them.

"need you to say it's mine, darling. can you do that for me, hm?" she whispered in your ear, alessia half expecting a tantrum or a bratty remark to fall from your lips.

but her fingers were too close to your core for her to even come up with something smart.

"that what is yours?" was the best your foggy mind could come up with, you acting so innocent despite the way your voice cracked.

alessia in response only looked deeply into your eyes as she pressed two fingers over your clothed warmth, feeling the dampness which had formed.

"that this is mine." she spoke lowly as she pressed her fingers even harder earning a sharp gasp from you, your eyelids shut as you were trying to hold yourself back. gather up any self control that was left.

"i- its, y-yours" you stuttered out as your brain fogged over again more concentrated on what her fingers where doing then the question she had asked.

alessia thought about demanding you to speak louder but it was already so much more than she had expected you to say.

her middle finger tossed your underwear to the side so effortlessly as her index finger was already moving over to your clit with enough pressure, in slow circle motions.

"so wet already, baby. all that denial and for what?" alessia chuckled lightly as if she was taunting you as if her one underwear wasn't already feeling extremely wet.

"tell me what you want, love."

you sighed loudly. you'd been holding back for so long that you decided that it wasn't the time to play around anymore.

"w-want you to fuck me," you said, looking into her bright blue eyes which were slightly darker than usual in a silent plea. and who was she to ever deny you of anything when you were looking at her like that?

she inserted two digits into your core, moving them around your walls, trying to know which spot pleasured you the most just from the way your face twisted and the way your eyes would screw shut.

you felt so warm and looked so desperate that the pool of wetness in her own underwear was becoming even more apparent - if that was possible.

"wish i could just have you to myself all the time" she whispered in your ear as her fingers began to stretch you in ways you hadn't felt in a long time - probably not since the last time you were in this position with the blonde.

her fingers dragging slowly as she pumped them inside you, drawing gasps from you with each one. small whimpers fell from your lips as alessia chuckled against your ear. you clenching around her fingers, knowing exactly what was going on inside your head.

eager and impatient, you moved your hips. alessia adding another finger into you as you so desperately chased a release as you adjusted to the extra finger stretching you that little bit further as she pumped her fingers inside you.

alessia gave you some time to get used to the extra finger but as your whimpers started to get needier she speeded up. "shit." she mumbled in your ear, trying her best not to go too hard and fast as she littered small kisses to your neck.

you clenched around her fingers, whimper and moaning her name like it was the only word you ever knew not bothering anymore to hide a single sound. it was driving  her insane.

"you feel so, so good,"

"alessia," you called out, your eyes shut. she thought it was the prettiest sight she's ever seen. your hair all messy, wrinkles in your freshly ironed clothes as you panted all desperate. if she wasn't in the same state, she would be taunting you.

usually that was how she was. but for some reason, it was different with you. she needed to be inside you. she didn't even release when her fingers which were thrusting inside your harder and more erratically.

she only knew as you'd began to moan her name more often, louder. moaning her name more often, and louder.

when she accidentally hit your sweet spot, you saw stars behind your eyes. the bright lights in the club bathroom were long gone. your back was arched as your eyes rolled.

god, if you had more of this, you would drool. everything you'd ever known had gone, your head was empty. you couldn't think - especially not when she was slamming her fingers into your walls like that.

"less, i-i'm.." you clenched tightly around her fingers as she moaned.

“i know baby,” alessia cooed, as you were panting. she wanted to make you cum, take care of you as you came down from your high.

you didn’t know how much more you could go, “cum for me love, you’ve been such a good girl, taking my fingers so well. go on”

it felt slightly that she was ordering than praising, but as soon as you cummed, her fingers stilled before helping you to ride out your orgasm before pulling them out, her fingers being slick of your juices.

“fuck,” alessia said, trying her best to grab for air as his head fell to lean on your shoulder, as she caressed you softly. even though you were both a mess and could barely breathe, alessia was still making sure you were ok. littering small kisses to your jaw as she spilled small praises in your ear.

you breathing starting to come back as alessia stared into your eyes, you looking at her with a dopey smile, a smirk appearing on alessia’s face, “since i think we’re over the hatred stage, how about i take you home and we show each other how much we really love each other..”

[marsdql]

hold me close L.HS

불안한 ╱ 𝘴oft ! 𝘥om ! 𝘩eeseung х 𝘧em ! 𝘳eader ──── 0.1𝘬 ㆍ slight smut(implied), teeth rotting fluff ㆍ your first time with hee who knows nothing but to comfort you ㆍ @teddybeartaetae

The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the sheets beneath

you. Heeseung’s hands were warm, gentle as they slid along your skin, exploring but never pushing, always giving you the space to breathe, to adjust.

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering nervously, the self-doubt creeping back in. Your body felt sensitive, unfamiliar to the sensations. The warmth of Heeseung’s hands, his fingers brushing so carefully over your skin, only made you more aware of your vulnerability.

“I’m here,” Heeseung whispered, his voice soothing, soft, like a caress. His face hovered above yours, his eyes watching you with so much love and care. “You’re safe, baby. If it hurts, we can stop. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

You tried to relax, tried to focus on his voice, the way his hands moved so tenderly, as if you were fragile, as if you were the most precious thing he had ever held. But the tightness in your chest didn’t loosen, and the butterflies in your stomach refused to quiet.

“I… I’m nervous,” you admitted, your voice shaky. You could feel the heat of your embarrassment rising in your cheeks. You were being so vulnerable, and you hated that feeling, the feeling of being inexperienced, of not knowing how to navigate this moment.

Heeseung smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His thumb gently traced the outline of your jaw, his touch reassuring. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, his voice full of tenderness. “There’s no rush. We’ll go at your pace. I’m right here. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me love you, okay?”

You nodded, your breath hitching slightly. The way Heeseung spoke to you, so softly, so patiently, it was like he could read your mind, knew exactly what you needed to hear to calm your racing thoughts.

He leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, his lips lingering just a little longer each time. His hands moved to your waist, gentle, guiding, but never forcing. “You’re so beautiful,” Heeseung whispered against your skin, his voice thick with admiration. “I can’t tell you enough how amazing you are. You don’t need to be anything but yourself.”

Despite your nerves, despite the rush of emotions flooding through you, Heeseung’s words felt like a balm on your soul. He wasn’t looking for anything from you but honesty, trust, and love. The thought made your chest ache, a mixture of sweetness and vulnerability flooding your heart.

He kissed you again, this time more deeply, his lips soft and insistent, but never demanding. His hands slid under your shirt, gently pulling it off, exposing the soft skin of your torso. You flinched, but Heeseung was quick to reassure you.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured softly, his fingers tracing the soft lines of your skin. “You’re so gorgeous. Just breathe with me. I’m here, baby.”

You closed your eyes, your heartbeat loud in your ears. Despite the feelings of insecurity, of being new and unsure, Heeseung’s presence was a gentle anchor. You let yourself melt into him, allowing his calm to wash over you, even as the tightness in your chest remained.

He moved slowly, easing you through each step. His hands gently caressed your back, his lips whispering sweet nothings, comforting you in a way you never imagined possible.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice low and careful, like he was worried about every little reaction you might have.

You nodded, feeling a slight ache, but it wasn’t just physical. Your body, too, was flooded with emotions—nervousness, desire, and a small hint of pain from the unfamiliarity of it all. You tried to hold back the tears that stung at the corners of your eyes, but Heeseung was quick to notice.

He leaned down, pressing his lips softly to your temple, then your cheek. “Shh, baby, don’t cry,” he soothed, his voice thick with tenderness. “You’re doing so well. It’s okay to feel sensitive, okay? I’m here to take care of you. You’re so strong. I know it’s a lot, but you’re doing great.”

His hands were gentle as they continued to caress you, exploring, moving slowly, never pushing. Heeseung’s voice was soft, a constant reassurance, as if reminding you that you didn’t have to be perfect, you didn’t have to do anything but trust him.

“I’m right here,” he repeated, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re not alone in this. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll take it slow, okay? Just breathe with me.”

The pain was still there, a subtle throb that made you wince, but it was beginning to fade into the background of everything else—his soft touches, his reassuring words, the way he held you so close, so tenderly. His patience felt like a warm embrace, wrapping around you, calming your nerves, letting you feel safe even in your vulnerability.

“It’s better now,” you whispered, your voice trembling but full of gratitude. “You make me feel safe, Heeseung.”

He smiled at you, his eyes filled with warmth and pride. “That’s all I want, baby. I’ll take care of you. Always.”

And with that, he kissed you again, deep and tender, his hands exploring you with the utmost care, always giving you the time you needed, always reassuring you with his softness.

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling this time, but they weren’t tears of pain. They were tears of release, of finally being able to let go and trust him, trust that you were safe with him. Heeseung was patient, so incredibly patient with you, and in his arms, you felt something you never thought you could feel—truly seen, truly cherished.

[short-honey-badger]

Plss make Shanks falling inlove with someone he just met but they were Shamrock runaway fiance

This one was funnnn anon. Thank you for the amazing request!

Redheads, am I right?

Pairings! Shanks x Female Reader , Mentioned! Figarland Shamrock x Female Reader

Masterlist for Shamrock and Shanks-> HERE

Shanks doesn’t know who you are or where you came from, but he does know that he wants your attention yesterday. You sit on the beach, legs splayed out in front of you, and curvy body on display as you lean back on your hands, face tilted up towards the blazing sun. You look like a dream brought to life, and the redhead wants more than anything to bow before you and worship the ground you walk on for the rest of his life, and he hasn’t even spoken to you yet.

Before he can follow his heart’s desires and act on them, he is elbowed in the ribs by his first mate. He winces and turns to glare at Benn, lips pulling into a pout.

“Stop thinking with your dick and help us unload the cargo, captain. I’m sure she’ll be right there when we get done,” Benn grumbles good naturedly, and Shanks pouts even more but does indeed tear his eyes away from where you are lounging on the beach.

You pretend that you don’t feel those vermillion eyes on your body, carefully keeping your face turned away from the redhead you can see out of the corner of your eye. You can’t believe that you’ve run into your fiance’s -ex-fiance you remind yourself- twin all the way out here in the middle of nowhere on the Grand Line. You had hoped to be done with redheads, but fate had a way of really messing with you.

It’s been three months since you escaped from Mariejois, and the sham of a marriage you would have had with one Figarland Shamrock, and those three months had been the best you’d ever had. More freedom and choice than you've ever had before. You weren’t ignorant enough to think that the Holy Knight wasn’t looking for you, but so far, he hadn’t had any luck finding you. Not yet anyway.

You sigh and reach for the book that sits on the towel beside you. You didn’t want to think about the harsh redhead right now, but it was hard not to when his literal twin wouldn’t stop making eyes at you every chance he got while he helped his crew unload cargo to be sold off in the market later on. You ignore it for as long as you can, not wanting to go back to your hotel room quite yet, and that ends up being your undoing.

Shanks turns back to the beach as soon as he is done doing his part, loping down the docks with a wave of his hand at his crew. Benn rolls his eyes but knows that there wasn't any stopping his captain when the redhead got like this, so he just left him be. Shanks hops from the wood and into the warm sands, carefully loping forward until he stands behind you, a teasing smirk pulling on his lips.

“Watcha reading?”

He laughs when you jump all over yourself, book flailing into the air, and you brace for the sharp edges to hit you only for nothing to happen. You peek your eyes open and find that your book has been caught by the same man who scared you in the first place. You snatch it back and glare at the redhead who hovers behind you, a mischievous looking look on his face as he meets your eyes.

“Something that I'm sure would go right over your head,” you snap and shift to hold the book closer to your chest, hiding away how the top you wear hardly covers your modesty. You suddenly regret allowing the sales woman to talk you into such a skimpy swimsuit when the redhead flicks his eyes down your body and you watch those vermillion eyes, so similar but so different from the burgundy ones you know, take you in with an almost revenant look on his face.

To your surprise, Shanks throws back his head and laughs, something loud and delightful that makes something in your chest light up and flutter with sudden interest. You soften your posture, relaxing in the presence of his humor.

“Yeah, you're probably right. You seem like a real smart girl,” He says and drops his head to smile at you, those eyes going soft as he points at the sand in front of you, “May I?”

You blink, taking a half second to debate if this was okay or not, before shrugging and tossing your hand at the same place, “Sure.”

Shanks smiles against and plops down, heedless of the sand that flies up to stick to his pants and his exposed shins. He can't describe the feeling that sticks in his breast now that he is by your side. The redhead has been around countless beautiful women, but there was just something about you that drew him in, something familiar and safe that he wanted to bask in for the rest of his life. He nods at the book in your hands, his smile open and friendly, “Tell me about it?”

You are once again thrown for his behavior. You are used to surly sneering and hot demands of your attention, not this innocent curiosity that Shanks seems to wield like a second skin. You lick your lips and glance down at the cover of your book, then turn it around to show the redhead.

“It’s uh called The Time Traveler’s Wife,” You begin a bit awkwardly. You’d chosen the book because it reminded you of your own dealings with the man who you had run from, what you knew would have been nothing but a problematic marriage. You explain how the main character, Henry, has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to travel through time and how his wife has to deal with his absence. It’s not a very happy book, but it had spoken to you all the same, but you weren’t about to wait around for a man who didn’t love you to begin with.

“Sounds sad, sweetheart,” Shanks murmurs when you are finished and you shrug in answer, a weary smile on your lips.

“Maybe, but it’s pretty romantic when you think about how Clare stays loyal to Henry even though he’s made her life so difficult. She’s a stronger woman than I am,” you say, and Shanks notices a distant look in your eye when you stop speaking. He can tell that there is a story there, but he doesn’t want to be rude and ask, not when he’d just met you.

“Love is a powerful thing,” he says instead and watches with a soft sort of glee as your cheeks pinken and you duck your head to look away from him. You turn your face to the waves crashing along the beach, brow furrowing for a second before it smooths away with a soft sigh.

“It can be, if given to the right person,” you say softly, and Shanks gets the impression that you are talking about yourself again, and this time, he can’t help but ask.

“Sounds like you’ve got some experience there, sweetheart. Do you wanna talk about it?”

You huff in weary amusement. You can’t help but like this redhead far more than the other one you know, that Shanks most likely knows. You find in yourself that you don’t want to keep that secret from him, and so turn, setting your book in your lap to give him your undivided attention.

“I do, and weirdly enough, you probably know him,” you say, and Shanks cocks his head, brow furrowing in confusion and waits for you to continue, “My fiance, ex-fiance really, is your twin brother, Shamrock.”

Shanks goes through a lot emotions all at once, jealousy, in knowing that his older brother had met you first, anger that his twin had obviously done something to you that caused you to run away, and relief that he had met you before Shamrock found you and dragged you back to Mariejois. He takes a moment to digest what you’ve dumped on him before ultimately shrugging and sending you a cocky smirk that makes you flush.

“Well it’s a good thing you ran into me then, isn’t sweetheart?” he drawls and boldly reaches out to curl his fingers over your cheek in a soft caress that you can’t help but lean into, “I’m much better than my brother, anyway.”

@mit-suri @sanjisleggy @nocturnalrorobin @mfreedomstuff @sordidmusings

[chenlezip]

bf!mark thoughts…

warning: smut under the cut.

annas note: i want mark so badly why can’t he be mine :(

FLUFF :

whenever you visit mark during practice, he always comes over to you during his breaks and presses soft kisses against your lips, sighing and leaning his head into the crook of your neck, “doing so well baby, ‘m proud.” you praise him and he feels himself melt into you even more.

never lets you carry anything yourself. you’ve tried begging him countless of times so you can help because.. there’s no way he can manage the shopping himself- no, he cuts you off instantly and shakes his head, “i can manage.”

no matter how busy mark gets, he’ll always find the time to open up his packed schedule for you. whether that be just calling you late at night despite the time differences between you two while he’s on tour, pushing schedule back just two hours so he can spend more time in bed with you snuggled into his arms..

writes endless songs about you, performing them with his guitar and smiling brightly as he sees your reactions. if you start crying during one of them, he quickly drops everything and shushes you, “hey- hey, babe, what’s wrong? i didn’t mean to make you cry, i didn’t know my song was that sad.”

SMUT :

whenever mark is too tired from work, you’re quickly on your knees. “can make you feel better markie, release some of your stress from today, hm?” and god, he can’t say no when you’re looking up at him with those perfect doe eyes of yours that have a hint of desire in them. he hummed in response, leaning back against the headboard, “go on pretty..”

he always teases you for being sensitive just like you do with him. whenever you’ve got a hand on his thigh so close to his dick, he has to move your hand further down and groans, “not so close.. please..” but you never listen until marks keeping your hand there, rubbing his crotch against your hand, “k-keep it there..”

loves keeping close to you and teasing you with soft touches here and there, reminding you that you’re his in the simplest of ways. maybe if he’s too busy in the studio, you sat on his lap, his hands wander while he’s sorting out which notes to play on his guitar. “markie..” you feel him moving his hand below the waistband of your panties. he just hummed in response, tilting his head at you. “what’s wrong, babe?”

[muletia]

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐜𝐡 ✧˖°

[tfp] obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader

summary: optimus is uncertain about touch, fearing that he might hurt you, but with your help, he learns that touch does not have to be associated with fear

cw: mild angst, a sprinkle of fluff, soft!optimus <3

word count: 1400

Cyan optics flicker between you and the report on the datapad. Optimus reads a few sentences without distraction, absorbing the information about the amount of energon acquired and consumed this month with ease, fully capable of focusing for those few nanokliks. But a few sentences are his limit when you are nearby. His thoughts drift elsewhere, into soft, organic realms where they linger, tempting his optics to join them, to make daydreams a reality. And so they do, when the report becomes a dull memory, irritating him with its obligation, and reality becomes you — lying on your stomach on his desk, utterly engrossed in what must be a far more interesting book.

He wants to join you. To set the report aside and return to it later, once your presence is no longer a sweet distraction from his duties. Knows he has let himself slip. Once again, he wants to push work aside at the price of spending time with you, though he cannot afford indulgence. He has put it off for too long; must focus and win this battle against his own addiction. Duty — this is his current priority.

But he cannot look away, still captivated by the smallest movements of your body and its beauty. That is all he can do. Watch. That is enough. He allows himself to look for a few nanokliks, to temporarily satisfy the craving, and then return to what he must do, though he knows full well it is not enough. Optimus knows his own body, knows what it demands, pleading for physical contact with you. But reason advises otherwise, and reason prevails.

Too many dangers, too many unknowns. A fraction too much force, a single gram over the limit, and you cease to exist. You cannot die by his servo. He does not need to witness your death to know that his spark would extinguish at the very same moment. Must be cautious with you. Has learned that he may touch you when he must, but not when he wants, reducing the probability of catastrophe to a minimum. It will never be enough for him; will never be satisfied by necessity alone. But eons of being Prime have stripped him of whims and impulses and have taught him the meaning of true sacrifice. He only hoped that you understood.

Indirect touch is acceptable; that does not frighten him as much. His free servo moves above you, then lowers, forming a kind of shelter over you. It protects, it reminds, telling you that Optimus is with you and thinking of you constantly, yet it does not touch. That must be enough, he convinces himself, though it will never be. You will understand. Perhaps you will appreciate it if you wish to make him happy. But you will grasp that he cannot allow himself more, not out of lack of desire, but out of fear, though he longs unimaginably to feel your beauty, not only with his optics but beneath his own digits.

He does not deny himself the lightest graze against the edge of your foot or calf, but that is all. It is only about sending a signal: I am here. I am watching over you. Anything beyond that terrifies him because he does not know how much he can allow himself. How much force to apply before he breaks you. Yes, a mere brush is enough. He convinces himself. And he does not deserve more.

You lift your gaze from your book and meet Optimus’s optics. He offers you a subtle, endearing smile, an unspoken declaration that you have his full and undivided attention, even if you soon return to your reading.

But you do not. You warm his stoic spark instead, giving him an excellent reason to forget about the report.

"You can touch me if you want to," you break the silence.

You shift onto your side to look at him without straining your neck and place your open book to the side, marking the page with a bookmark. Propping your elbow on Optimus’s desk, you rest your head on your outstretched hand, settling into a comfortable position for the conversation you had been meaning to have with him—because, knowingly or not, he had touched upon a subject that had been weighing on your mind. And his, even more so.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to distract you."

"It’s okay, you didn’t distract me. And you can touch me. If you want to," you repeat, sending a smile his way that melts part of his spark.

He wants to. Longs to. Needs to.

But cannot.

"I fear harming you," he admits, incapable of lying when you look him straight in the optics.

"Is that why you hold back?"

"Yes," he sighs. "I have concerns that I may not be able to properly gauge my own strength. I do hope you understand my restraint regarding physical contact. I assure you, it is not your fault, my dearest."

"I understand. But you won’t hurt me," you reassure him. Yet he does not seem convinced, his optical ridges creasing slightly, uncertainty still visible in optics. "Okay, let me put it another way. Remember when I dropped my phone once? You picked it up between your fin— digits and there wasn’t a single crack. Not even a scratch! I know that from my perspective, you are unimaginably strong, but you can control your strength. You have precision. So I know that you won’t hurt me."

He processes your words in silence.

"I trust you, Optimus. More than anyone else."

That seems to break something in him. Not completely — not yet — but enough to try.

"Very well. If you truly grant me permission…"

"You may. Please." Just to emphasize that you desire this too.

You roll back onto your stomach, and his massive servo hovers above you, fighting hesitation. For a moment, you fear that you have pressured him into physical contact, pulling him out of a comfort zone he was not yet ready to leave, but your worries vanish when Optimus chooses to lower his servo, leaving the restraint on the surface.

His large digits envelop your back and remain there, servo holding still in one place. His touch is incredibly subtle and measured, but the hesitation remains. The fear he cannot yet overcome, even when faced with the exceptional softness of human skin, tempting to sink deeper, to explore everything you have to offer as a human. But he refuses to be enslaved by temptation when he is still on edge. Cannot harm you. He must be careful. That is enough; he dares not ask for more.

Optimus does not tremble with stress, no visible signs of anxiety appear on his frame, but the title of Prime binds him to outward composure in tense situations. Inside, chaos reigns. He sees no sign of discomfort on you, no grimace of pain, nor do you make any sounds that might suggest suffering, which should reassure him. But he cannot be at ease when worries churn in his processor. Am I pressing too hard? Pinning them down? He is grateful for your trust, but he cannot trust himself. Needs certainty that he is not about to kill you by accident.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"Better than alright," you murmur. "Like someone wrapped me in a warm, giant weighted blanket."

"That is… a pleasant sensation?"

"Wonderful." You reach up, stroking the nearest digit. "It’s alright, Opti. You’re not hurting me."

"I trust you," he says, and you gift him a smile he cannot help but return.

"So? Do I feel nice to the touch?"

"You always do. Thank you for placing your trust in me." Because even though his fears still gnaw at him, for the first time, he does not ache for touch. Finally, he can stop wondering, stop dreaming about what he once thought were unattainable desires, and instead focus on the here and now. He reaches for the datapad and resumes reading the report, discovering how clear his processor has become now that his longing has found its grounding in your presence.

"Thank you for allowing yourself something nice for once," you reply and return to your book, wrapped in safety and warmth unmatched by any other source.

[woozinhos]

Hii can I request for pregnancy sex with jeonghan?

Notes: guys I’m so back this is great! This was so cute to write enjoy!

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

Jeonghan watches you as you move around the house, your pregnant belly prominent. He can't help but feel a surge of desire every time he looks at you, but he's hesitant to act on it.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" he asks for the third time that day, concern etched on his face. You smile at him and nod, placing a hand on your belly. "I'm fine, Jeonghan. The baby and I are both healthy." Jeonghan lets out a sigh of relief, but his eyes still linger on your stomach. He's been struggling to control his urges, wanting nothing more than to take you right then and there.

As the day goes on, Jeonghan becomes more and more restless. He finds himself constantly touching you, his hands roaming over your body as if he can't get enough of you. You can sense Jeonghan's growing need, but you don't comment on it. You know he's been holding back, afraid of hurting you or the baby. As the evening draws near, Jeonghan finally can't take it anymore. He pulls you onto his lap, his hands resting on your thighs.

"I need you," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

"I know," you reply, a hint of amusement in your voice. "I could tell." Jeonghan groans and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. "You have no idea how much I've been wanting you," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin.

"I'm scared," Jeonghan admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to hurt you or the baby." He pulls back to look at you, his eyes filled with worry. "What if we do something that's not safe for the baby?"

You cup his face in your hands, your expression gentle. "Jeonghan, we'll be careful. We can figure it out together." Jeonghan looks at you for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay," he says, his hands moving to your waist. "But you have to promise to tell me if anything feels uncomfortable or wrong." Jeonghan carefully helps you into bed, making sure you're comfortable before he climbs in beside you. He pulls you close to him, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks again, his voice laced with concern. You nod, leaning into his touch. "I want this, Jeonghan. I want you." Jeonghan takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. It has been a while since he's been intimate with you, and the thought of it is both exciting and terrifying.

"I just... I don't want to disappoint you," he says, his voice shaking slightly.

"You could never disappoint me," you reassure him, running your fingers through his hair. "I love you, Jeonghan. No matter what."

L Jeonghan closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. "I love you too," he whispers, his heart racing in his chest. "I just want to make you feel good." Jeonghan slowly undresses, his eyes never leaving yours. He's acutely aware of the changes in your body as you watch him, and it only fuels his desire further.

Once he's completely naked, he stands there for a moment, letting you take him in. You can't help but admire his toned body, your eyes roaming over every inch of him. He's still just as beautiful as the day you met him, and you feel a rush of affection for him. Jeonghan moves closer to you, his hands tracing the contours of your body. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his lips finding yours in a deep kiss. Jeonghan takes his time undressing you, being careful not to put any pressure on your stomach. He peels away each piece of clothing, his hands roaming over your skin as he exposes more of you to him.

"You're glowing," he says, his eyes darkening with lust. "Absolutely gorgeous." Jeonghan takes a moment to compose himself, trying to control his desire. He positions himself between your legs, his hands on your thighs.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" he says, his voice low and gravelly. You nod, biting your lip in anticipation. Jeonghan slowly pushes into you, his eyes locked on yours as he watches for any signs of discomfort.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice strained. You take a deep breath, adjusting to the feeling of him inside you. "I'm okay," you say, your voice shaky. "Just... go slow." Jeonghan nods, his movements slow and deliberate. He keeps a close eye on your face, looking for any signs of pain or discomfort. As Jeonghan continues to move, he starts to relax a bit more. The feeling of being inside you is overwhelming, and he can't help but let out a low moan.

"You feel so good," he whispers, his fingers digging into your thighs. "I've missed this." You moan in response, arching your back as he hits a sensitive spot. "Jeonghan... harder." Jeonghan's eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly complies with your request. He picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming deeper and more forceful.

"That's it, baby," he groans, his hips snapping against yours. "Take it. You're doing so well." He leans down to capture your lips in a messy kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he loses himself in the moment. You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body tensing with pleasure. Jeonghan senses it too, and he reaches down to rub your clit with his thumb.

"Come for me," he urges, his voice rough with need. "Let go, sweetheart." It doesn't take long for you to reach your climax, your body shaking as you cry out his name. Jeonghan follows soon after, his own release spilling inside you. Jeonghan moans loudly as he cums, his body trembling against yours. He buries his face in your neck, riding out the waves of pleasure as he fills you up.

Once he's done, he stays there for a moment, his chest heaving as he tries to regain his composure. "God, I needed that," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You smile and run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the feeling of him still inside you. "Me too," you say softly. Jeonghan lifts his head to look at you, a look of pure adoration in his eyes. "I love you so much," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you for letting me do this with you." Jeonghan pulls out of you and quickly rolls onto his side, apologizing to your stomach. "I'm sorry, baby," he says, pressing a gentle kiss to your belly. "Daddy didn't mean to get so carried away."

[krakereir]

Part 2 - My Best Friend's Girl (you're something else) Trafalgar Law x reader

18+ Rating: E - Sexual content. 10k. fem!reader

PART 1 HERE

They find their seats, but as Law pulls up his phone to switch it off, yes, he switches his phone off at the movies, it’s not that weird, he sees that she’s sent him a new message. A new picture. No no no no, not now. Bad idea. Unfortunately, there’s no way he can refrain from looking at it now that he knows it exists. That would be asking his imagination to fire up all his dirty fantasies right before the movie starts. He’ll just have a short peek. Who knows, maybe it isn’t even- Fuck. Law is fucked.

“So Penguin is dating Shachi,” Law says the moment Bepo picks up his call.

“Hey Law!” Bepo answers and though he sounds like his usual cheerful self, there’s a subtle, yet unmistakable nervousness to his tone of voice.

“And you knew,” Law continues.

“Well, I-” Bepo begins.

“So when I called you last week complaining about Penguin’s girlfriend-”

“Law,” Bepo pleads.

“-it didn’t occur to you to mention that he can’t have one?”

Only silence meets him at the other line.

“Why? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It wasn’t my place,” Bepo explains. Law waits for him to continue and after another pause Bepo does so, albeit reluctantly. “If for any reason Penguin lied to you and said that he got a girlfriend, it wouldn’t be right to tell on him, not even to you.”

“You couldn’t even have told me that he by chance also has a sister with the same name? That it all could be a big misunderstanding?”

“Law, you’re being unreasonable. Two people can be named the same thing.”

“I know that! But-” Law sputters. “Well, it’s just- Argh!”

“I know,” Bepo says and Law could have sworn it sounds like he’s holding in laughter.

Oh, so this is funny to him?

“So when are you arriving today?” Bepo asks and Law decides to let it all go for now.

“I got off the train just now, but there’s a lot happening today, opening of the conference, dinner and probably drinks afterwards,” Law says with open disgust. Just the thought of the kind of people he’ll be forced to be congenial with is making him sick to his stomach.

“Are you still free tomorrow evening?”

“As planned I have bought our tickets for the movie at 8.30pm tomorrow.”

“You’ve booked them already?” Bepo says, now openly laughing. “Law, this is a small town, you don’t have to book cinema tickets in advance on a tuesday.”

“I know that,” Law protests, “but now we have good seats. You know I hate sitting up front.”

Bepo laughs again and all the nagging in Law’s brain has been silenced, he smiles too as he wonders how a town as unassuming and unpleasant as this one could feel so much like home.

----

In the days that have passed since Sunday, and the dramatic reveal of Penguin’s true relation to Y/N, Law has been feeling off.

Of course it was a nice surprise. He was happy to learn that she was single and very likely interested and first and foremost, NOT dating one of his best friends. Yes, it made him happy.

It just left him feeling, well, off.

Just the tiniest bit unbalanced. Ever so slightly unwell. High-strung, jumpy and a little sweaty. Totally normal bodily fluctuations that don't necessarily mean anything.

The problem was just that the situation was so… anticlimactic. In the true sense of the word.

They didn’t even kiss.

No wonder he was feeling high-strung. It’s only natural.

He didn’t manage to get even one measly little peck and the most frustrating part is that it was absolutely his fault. She threw herself at him all week and when it was revealed that he could act upon all his indecent desires, that she wanted him to, he didn’t do anything. They formally exchanged numbers and a mutual interest in seeing each other again as if they were at the end of a fucking job interview. But really, what else could he have done with the threat of Penguin constantly looming over them like a hawk?

Still, he can’t shake the feeling of having lost his chance. Why couldn’t he have made a bolder move when he had her right there? She had basically confessed to seducing him.

Law would be lying if he said that it didn’t still drive him crazy just to think about that part.

Especially now when it’s early in the morning and he finds himself hundreds of miles away in a tiny hotel room with the blinds down and his hand down his pyjama pants, lazily jerking himself off, wishing he had her at the other side of the wall again.

Looking back on last week, Y/N’s actions are even more arousing now that she has confirmed that it was all for him. It was all to seduce him.

He’s jerked off to the memory of her sounds so many times that his fantasies have practically overwritten his memories by now. He finds it difficult to differentiate between what really happened and what he later has made up in a daydream, attempting to fill in the blanks. It’s still effective material, but when he knows that the real thing might be within his reach it ends up lacking.

He slows down the pace even further to make himself last longer. He knows the climax will be nice, but again, lacking, and as long as he keeps it at bay, his pent-up mind half-way believes that it’s not his own hand making him come.

In his head, he can see how pretty she would be underneath him. He would take it slow and she would complain. She would be so fucking needy. Maybe she would try pushing his buttons to provoke him. Shove and hit and pull and bite. She would bite him hard and he still wouldn’t budge. Then when the time was right, he would-

Beep beep, be-be-beep beep, beep beep

Fuck.

He forgot to turn the alarm off when he woke.

The annoying melody drags him down from his high, unfortunately skipping the release, and he regrets dragging out the climax, but finds himself depressingly indifferent to whether he reaches it or not.

With a groan he grabs his phone to turn it off, but as he does he sees something that brings back all the excitement and more to spare.

Two new messages. One text and one… picture.

Y/N When are you coming back?

It’s so simple, so casual and really could mean nothing at all, but then the picture beneath loads.

It shows her face and naked shoulders lit up by an early beam of sunlight. She’s lying on a bed with two fingers stuck in her mouth as if she’s licking something off of them. It’s a beautifully filthy picture. So subtle in its suggestiveness that it in turn becomes pornographic, offering everything up to imagination, but with a subtext clear as day.

Law can’t deny the grin spreading on his face at the sight, he wouldn’t want to. He collapses back on the bed, phone in his hand, and finishes what he started, swiftly and passionately.

----

One day earlier

When Y/N wakes up in her own apartment for the first time in a week, it’s a disappointment. It feels like waking up from a very pleasant dream to see that your everyday is bleak and lonely in comparison. What she priorly thought of as a quite pleasant apartment now seems boring. And empty.

She feels defeated. She had the chance of a lifetime, a week living in the same apartment as the boy of her dreams with her neurotic brother way out of the picture. She had 6 whole days and still she couldn’t bag him.

She shakes the disappointment away and gets up, getting in the mindset of a new day. A new, normal day. It’s not so bad.

She works part time in the small, independent camera shop where the pay is as bad as the people are nice. In the beginning she was hired to help them move the bookkeeping to a digital system and keep up the website, but as the years went by business declined horribly and now there’s only a handful of employees who haven't left for where the grass is greener, so the manager needs her help with a lot more. She likes that it’s varied, but it’s not as flexible as it used to be when she mostly did digital work.

Once upon a time her friends and family were shocked when she told them she would become something as mundane as an accountant, but to her it was never a hard decision. At least you can do bookkeeping from Bali. And it’s a pleasure to keep an independent shop afloat, albeit barely.

Today she’s been more restless than usual and the last couple of hours before they close she’s left alone to tend the shop, which means that instead of being cooped up in the dark room, which she is partial to, she has to stand up front at the cashier, which she finds horribly boring.

No one has come by in almost an hour now and she’s starting to consider leaving a note and going out back again when the doorbell tells her that someone’s entered the shop. She looks up to see-

“Shachi! What are you doing here?”

“Pen mentioned that you were working today, so I thought I’d stop by,” he grins. “He recommended that I come see it before it goes out of business and you lose your job.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” she teases back. “I’m closing up in 40 min, do you want to wait and then grab a bite?”

“Nah, I don’t have much time. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Well, it’s not much,” she says, gesturing to the one room shop they’re in, “but it’s a lot more fun than other jobs I’ve had.”

“I didn’t know you were into photography.”

“I guess I have developed an interest as a result of working here,” she explains. “It surprised me, but I actually like the service work too. I mostly do digital bookkeeping, so I have been able to keep the job even when abroad.”

“You are a very fascinating person,” he says.

“Not any more than you,” she counters. “How are things? Has the school-year begun yet?”

“Last week,” he confirms. “I’m setting up a volleyball tournament to get the kids excited. It’s fun to see them flail around.”

“And how’s my brother doing?” she asks with a comical wiggle of her eyebrow.

“He’s fine,” Shachi shrugs, but a slight, pinkish tint appears over his cheeks. “It’s nice to have the apartment to ourselves, with Law gone this week.”

The silence that follows is filled with the awkwardness of indirectly bringing up both her brother’s and her own sex life in the same sentence, and none of them manages to find anything to say. A customer comes into the shop and hands her a film roll, pays and leaves.

“Are any of these yours?” Shachi asks when they’re alone again, gesturing to the photos on the wall behind her.

“No no no,” she protests. “I could never. Besides, the photos I like to take aren’t the kind you hang on the wall.”

“I see,” he says, smirking. “Have you sent any to Law yet?”

She shakes her head. “Do you think I should?”

“Yes,” he says in all seriousness.

She stops abruptly.

“Really? I- uhm, are you sure? I don’t want to presume-”

“If you want to make him lose his mind, you absolutely should.”

“You’re not messing with me, right? I don’t want to scare him away. He seems so… respectable?”

“I see your concern,” Shachi says, “and if you want to take things slow, you should.”

“But?”

“If you want to seduce him, you should send him the most desperately horny pictures, but show minimal nudity. Trust me, he’s depraved, but prudish at the same time. He loves that convoluted shit.”

“Hmm,” she contemplates it. “You gave me great advice last time. If it weren’t for the fact that he did his best to keep away from me, I’m pretty sure it would have worked.”

“It did work! He’s hooked, you just need to reel him in.”

“You’re horrible, you know that? You enjoy this way too much,”

“Maybe,” he snickers. “Well, I have to go now. Have a good one!”

“Thanks for stopping by!”

----

At the end of the second day of the conference, Law is already sick of it. He can’t stand the thought of even one more quarter of an hour in the presence of his colleagues. He even had to forgo his usual, most-needed 3 o’clock coffee, simply to avoid the flock of assholes surrounding the machine and the conversation they most-likely would trap him in.

But now the day is over and he can finally get to the whole reason for this extraneous trip in the first place. The beam of light in the darkness. The only reason Law even said yes to this horrid idea of a 5 day conference: it happens to take place in the same town where Bepo is doing his residency.

Despite only being 3 hours by train, he hasn’t gotten to see him much at all lately and getting one or two nights with his best friend is worth all the stuck up academics he needs to refrain himself from smacking.

They meet downtown after Bepo is done with his shift, have chinese and then a glass of wine before wandering through the small centre of town, waiting for the movie.

“You seem very happy,” Bepo says, his brows furrowed, as if happiness is a rare disease Law has contracted.

“I’m not,” Law argues, “this conference is at my personal 4th circle of hell.” He keeps his voice level, but the corners of his lips lift up on their own and he can’t make himself mad at it.

“I’m so happy for you!” Bepo exclaims and Law wonders if Bepo ever really listens to what he says.

“It’s nothing big, it’s just-” Law begins before he knows how much he actually wants to reveal. “It’s just that I might have met someone.”

Bepo’s eyes get huge with shock and his smile widens even more. "Does this have something to do with Y/N?"

Even though Law already had called Bepo to berate him for not telling him that Penguin has a sister, he had refrained from mentioning anything concerning his indecent desires about said sister, but it seems that Bepo had already put two and two together.

“It might,” Law answers with a sigh.

“I knew you two would hit it off!” Bepo exclaims. “Hadn’t it been for Penguin, I would have insisted you two meet a lot sooner.”

“I’ve been wondering about that. Shachi hadn’t even met her, so when did you meet her?”

“Oh, she moved apartments last year. Shachi was away and Penguin didn’t want to invite you, so he asked if I could help out. She’s so sweet!”

“I didn’t think Penguin would be the type to be overprotective of his sister.”

“He’s not.”

“Oh yes, he is,” Law insists.

“He’s overprotective of you,” Bepo says and Law’s mind screeches to a halt.

“… what?”

“He doesn’t want her to steal you away from him,” he explains. “Apparently, she’s kind of a flirt.”

Law chooses not to comment on that.

They find their seats, but as he pulls up his phone to switch it off, yes, he switches his phone off at the movies, it’s not that weird, he sees that she’s sent him a new message.

A new picture.

No no no no, not now. Bad idea.

Unfortunately, there’s no way he can refrain from looking at it now that he knows it exists. That would be asking his imagination to fire up all his dirty fantasies right before the movie starts. He’ll just have a short peek. Who knows, maybe it isn’t even-

Fuck. Law is fucked.

The picture is arousing alright.

She’s splayed out on a couch, dressed in only a loose robe that has slipped off her leg, showing off skin all the way up to her hip bone and large parts of her outer thigh. The picture’s taken from above her head so her face isn’t in the frame, but her one naked shoulder is. The fabric hanging loosely off it barely covers the left part of her chest and he’s sure he can see the darker skin of her areolae just beyond the hem of the robe and the hand that isn’t holding the phone is casually resting on her thigh, fingers reaching ever so slightly into the robe on their way to do god knows what and Law is turned on like a light switch.

His cheeks flame up with heat and he grips his phone harder as he struggles to turn it off before someone else sees what’s on it. Then there’s the humiliating task of positioning himself so that there’s as little friction as possible between the coarse material of his tight jeans and his very unwelcome erection.

At his side Bepo looks at him worriedly and seems like he’s about to say something, but then the commercials come to an end and the light goes down in the theatre. Law takes deep breaths, forcing himself to push all indecent thoughts away and when the familiar theme music of Sora, warrior of the sea: Encounter of Kings blast out of the speakers, he feels confident that he will succeed.

That’s when Pink Poison takes the screen. Dressed in a sheer nightgown she kills 5 soldiers. With her mouth.

Law is so fucked.

----

Bepo lives on the outskirts of town in student housing and has to get up early the next day. When the movie ends, Law walks him to the station and they say goodbye. Maybe they’ll manage to see each other once more before Law leaves, maybe not. Right now though there’s only one thing on his mind and the moment Bepo’s bus drives off, Law calls up Y/N.

“You ruined Sora,” he accuses her when she picks up, but despite his stern tone, he’s sort of smiling.

“Law?”

“Your actions have consequences you know.”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t understand at all,” Y/N says. “What are you talking about?”

“The pictures,” he explains painstakingly.

“Ohhh.” There's a pause before she continues, “so you did get the pictures.”

He swears that he can hear her smirk.

“Yes, I got the pictures,” he says.

“Well, you didn’t answer, so I wasn’t sure,” she explains. “I thought maybe the first one didn’t go through, so I sent one more.”

It hits him that he didn’t even think about answering her pictures, despite having masturbated to them, twice. That’s not only embarrassing, but blatantly disrespectful. Not to mention frightfully uncool.

“Well… did you like them?” she asks and her amusement is obvious.

“That’s besides the point!” he sputters.

“So what you’re saying is that you’re mad you had to sit through a movie with a boner?”

“I’m mad that I missed 10 minutes of it when I was forced to do something as downgrading as relieving myself in a cinema toilet.”

It just spills out of him and the moment he admits to this out loud he’s struck by regret.

“What?” she exclaims in shock, then a laugh follows, so loud he has to pull the phone away from his ear. “Why didn’t you wait it out?” she asks.

“I couldn’t,” he mutters, cursing himself for continuing on this degrading and embarrassing subject.

“What do you mean you couldn’t?”

“The movie was sexy, okay?” he whispers reluctantly into the microphone.

“‘Sora, warrior of the sea’ was too sexy?” she asks, now cackling even louder.

“It wasn’t a problem the last time I saw it, so obviously it’s-”

“Law, hold on.”

He freezes at the change in her tone.

“You’ve seen it before?”

“Well, yes. Once, but-”

“You’re blaming me for making you miss 10 out of 200 minutes you’ve seen before?”

“... yes.”

“Law, do you want me to stop with the pictures?” she asks and it’s a straightforward question, free from teasing and flirting.

“Of course not,” he says, without even thinking.

“Then I won’t,” she says simply. With a short chuckle she adds, “Sorry about Sora.”

“I forgive you,” he says genuinely before realising that she wasn’t actually that sorry. She laughs loudly again.

“You are really something, Trafalgar Law.”

Law doesn’t know what to say.

“Call me again soon,” she says and with that, she hangs up.

He’s left dumbstruck.

Then his hands move on their own and before he knows it, he’s pulled up the message log with the pictures. Looking at them now, they’re quite tame. Not that they’re bad, the very opposite actually, they’re good pictures. The composition and lighting enhances its subject in a very… flattering way. It’s just that they’re not as risque now at a second glance. It’s embarrassing to think that this was all it took to rile him up so thoroughly.

He still saves them to his phone.

Then he sends off a text.

LAW I’m coming back on the 10th.

After a second of contemplating he sends off another one.

LAW I really like the robe.

Compared to how much he enjoyed the pictures, it’s a weak compliment, but he can’t get himself to be more explicit. Being sexy in person is hard enough, the pressure of being sexy over text is terrifying.

And he does like the robe. He really, really likes the robe.

Y/N Come see me on the 10th? LAW Okay.

He cringes at how indifferent he sounds, but doesn’t dare to write anything more, afraid to make an even bigger fool of himself.

----

Y/N I think the pictures worked! I kept it very subtle, but he even called me to complain about them. That’s a good sign, right? Shachi complain how? Y/N That he got too horny I think? I didn’t really understand, but he was sort of annoyed that he was out in public when he saw it. Shachi amazing!! your on the right track next step is leave him wanting more! if you want to send more pictures, make sure they’re not as desperate as the ones you started with Y/N I can’t say I understand, but I trust you wholeheartedly. Shachi update me l8er Y/N Say hi to Pen for me Shachi he says hi back! Y/N Really? Shachi actually he says “stop texting my bf, homewrecker” Y/N That’s more like it.

----

By the time Friday rolls around, Law has been to 4 boring dinners, 1 slightly fascinating lecture, 3 frightfully bad ones and 1 disgustingly opulent fundraiser. He’s gotten 5 new pictures from Y/N and masturbated a lot more times than he wants to count.

He’s spent.

Really, he can’t remember the last time he was this exhausted and he regularly does 12 hour shifts.

He got sick of the group of academics he’s travelling with already at the first lunch, they’re all terrible conversationalists. He’s used to zoning out the long monologues and self-praising around these guys, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying.

Tonight is the goodbye dinner and he would pay good money to get out of it, but alas, his boss is one of the worst of the bunch and Law can’t afford pissing him off more than he already has. One can say Law has toned down his punk attitude since his manifesto-creating-days and is now what you can call a typical 30-year-old sell out on the cusp of his big break, who very well knows the importance of pampering important men with big egos.

She would laugh at him if she were here.

He hasn’t called her since that day. She did tell him too, but he figured it would be too much. What would he even tell her, how many more times he’s masturbated to the thought of her since last they spoke? No, thank you.

The pictures were a blessing at first, a welcome escape from his personal hell, but lately every new message he receives is like an additional ball and chain around his foot, reminding him of exactly what it is he doesn’t have. They’re still very modest, but paired with the knowledge of how she sounds when she chases her climax, it’s awfully effective even so.

The more she sends him, the more starved he feels.

----

Y/N I think I fucked up Shachi shit what did you do? Y/N Just what you told me to! But he hasn’t called me again and he’s not responding to the pictures, it’s been like 2 days since he replied maybe he’s disappointed by the new ones? They are a lot less horny than the first Ahhh, now I just feel stupid I’ve spent hours taking these photos, Shachi… HOURS Shachi nooo but honestly it sounds like hes only being his regular loser self and doesn’t know how to text but if you really feel like your losing him you could try to amp up the heat a little gtg now but good luck!!!!! update me l8er

Amp up the heat, huh?

----

“Trafalgar! Are you married?”

Just when Law believed he could go through the whole week without answering questions about himself, one of his colleagues had to learn just a smidge of common decency in the nick of time and ask him a question.

“No, I am not,” he answers simply.

“Thought so,” the other man grunts. “None of you youngins are able to keep a job and a girl at the same time. In my time…”

Bla bla bla.

At least Law won’t be forced to answer more questions for a while now that the “When I was young”- monologue has begun.

He subtly glances down at his phone and sees that he’s received 1 new message and 3 new photos from Y/N in only the last 30 minutes. He knows he should wait until he’s back at his room to have a look, but he can’t help himself. Something nice for his inner eye to look at is exactly what he needs to survive this dinner and none of the latest pictures have even come close to being as explicit as the first two, so he figures he’ll be fine.

He opens the app and the first thing he sees is that she’s sent him her address and an invitation to come to her when he gets back. Then he slowly scrolls up to see the new pictures and-

… Law flatlines.

“Trafalgar! Are you alright?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, boy.”

He locks his phone and looks up to see everyone around the table looking at him in a mix of confusion and curiosity.

“I have gotten some disturbing news,” he says slowly and doesn’t even have to pretend to act shocked. “If you will excuse me.”

On the way out of the restaurant he grabs their waiter, pays his share and gives her a weighty tip, while asking her to communicate to his dinner companions that he was forced to leave in the case of an emergency.

30 minutes later he’s checked out and on his way to the train station. He gets to his platform just in time to see the last train roll into the station and he thanks the lord above, who he doesn’t believe in.

4 hours later he’s at Y/N’s address.

----

“Hi.”

“Law,” she greets him, a slight indication of a smile on her lips, as if she’s considering whether to laugh or not.

“Hi,” he says again, softer.

“Why are you here?” she asks.

“It’s the tenth,” he says and holds up his arm to show her his watch. It shows 00.42.

“So it is,” she chuckles softly in surprise.

“And you asked me to come,” he says, slightly short of breath, “on the tenth.”

“I did do that,” she says, almost in a whisper.

The silence is loaded with everything unspoken. He catches her glancing down at his mouth. She catches him trailing her figure with his eyes.

“So, did you want to come in?” she asks, as if he was just a normal guest ringing her doorbell on a normal day, not the man she’s been thinking about constantly the last two weeks ringing her doorbell in the middle of the night.

“Please,” Law says. He too almost succeeded in sounding completely normal.

When she lets him in, it dawns on her what this means, having him here, now, in her apartment. The embarrassment seeps into her as the overwhelming shock of seeing him again settles.

“I didn’t expect-” she says, with a slight stutter.

She was going to shower, she was going to shave, she was going to take out the trash blocking the doorway and she was going to clean up the multiple bowls of old, soggy cereal on the kitchen counter. He was not supposed to come before-

“Y/N,” he says in a quiet, breathy voice. He speaks so close to her ear that she feels a tingling down her spine. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, I just-”

He stops himself mid-sentence and she looks up to see why. In the dim light of the corridor, his eyes almost look black. They’re still golden, but now they’re dark, like petroleum, like oil, and she could simply drown in those eyes. What a terrifyingly sweet death. She would let him drag her down into the sticky black goo of delicious tar in a heartbeat.

“Y/N?” he repeats, for the first time tonight with a smile.

“Ye- Yes,” she says, a small chuckle escaping her at how utterly stupid she must look and the fact that she simply does not care. She doesn’t even care about the two bags of trash at their feet. She doesn’t care about her greasy hair, about being sweaty and dirty. This is the best thing that could have possibly happened tonight.

“Am I interrupting?” he asks.

She nods before she can register what he was saying and a prominent line draws down over his brow in worry.

“I am?” he asks. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Law,” she coos and without even thinking, she lays a reassuring hand on his cheek, her fingertips gracing the soft strands of his hair. “It’s good to see you.”

He eases up under her touch, ever so slightly even leaning into it.

“Likewise,” he murmurs.

“Would you like to stay the night?” she asks, not really sure why, it’s really way too late for him to go anywhere else, but it does feel right to ask. It lets her reveal that she really wants him to.

“I would,” he admits, a shimmer of amusement in his eyes. “And would you like it if I kissed you now?” he asks her in a low murmur.

She gives him his answer by running her hand further into his hair, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him towards her slowly.

Firstly, their noses meet for a second. It’s only a small colliding of noses, but it breaks the ice and makes what comes after seem easier.

Secondly, their foreheads touch. A touch that is not innocent, but rather heavy and solid. A meeting of two minds, aching for connection.

When their lips finally meet it’s slow, but more than that, it’s deep. It’s as if they just skip past the first stages of a first kiss and instead swiftly fall into the hungrily unabashed type of kiss, slowly and meticulously tasting each other. They fit together like they were always meant to be doing this.

The sizzling chemistry between them does not crystallise itself in a fit of passion, but rather as an all-consuming void. A black hole swallowing their whole world and opening up the pathway to something completely new. Something scary, but exciting.

But with him, there’s no need to worry. It feels like she’s been kissing him for years and she knows exactly what to do. Even though it's scary to feel as if she’s being swallowed down into a hole of nothingness, it feels as if they’re going down together. She doesn’t doubt for even an instant that he will follow her.

“Thank you,” Law manages to say in between kisses.

“For what?”

“For- Fuck, the pictures. Thank you for the pictures.”

“You’re very welcome,” she grins into the kiss.

“But also for being so…”

“So?”

“So… Ehm, it’s just, I’m not a brave person, Y/N,” he begins while she places a trail of kisses down his neck and behind his ear. “Ahh- I- Well, I find these things difficult. And it might have been a lot harder if it weren’t for the fact that you’re so…”

“So…?” she repeats, absolutely teasing him for his ramblings.

“So fearless.”

“What-?” she protests, smiling wide from the flattery, but too embarrassed to do anything else than pull away from him and hide her face.

“So easy to want,” he further explains, cupping her face with both his hands and chasing her back to steal just one more kiss before he adds, “So kind.”

Y/N simply looks back at him for the longest couple of seconds before she can’t contain herself anymore. She needs him. She firmly grips a hold of his jacket and starts dragging him up the short flight of stairs.

Law makes an undignified yelp at being hauled away and he momentarily halts them both in an attempt to take off his outerwear. She tries to drag him with her despite it and he almost loses his balance.

“My shoes-?” he asks, in a way of explaining why he can’t just let himself be dragged inside.

“Leave them on, throw them away,” Y/N suggests hastily, letting go of the grip and disappearing into the bedroom. “I don’t care about the shoes! Just come here.”

“Yes,” he adheres blindly and follows her shortly after.

She waits for him by the edge of the bed and has begun slowly pulling off her sweater. He rushes to reach out and wrap his arms around her when her arms are lifted and the skin of her torso is exposed. As her face appears again from under the fabric, he kisses her lips softly, lazily.

“Y/N,” he moans.

“I need you so badly,” she murmurs back into his lips.

“Tell me more, please,” he begs her.

“About how much I need you?” she asks with an insolent grin.

He nods, his eyes are droopy and fluttering closed as he touches her, kisses her.

“So much,” she breathes out. “I need you so much, Law, I can hardly-”

She interrupts herself when she drops down on the bed and unexpectedly lands on something cold and mysterious. From under her ass, she pulls out sheets of paper- Oh fuck. The fucking comics. She doesn’t even know why, but that’s so embarrassing.

“Oh, these,” she says, not having a clue what she’s going to say, “I borrowed these from the library, just-”

“It was so fucking hot,” he groans and follows after her down on the bed. He takes the comics out of her hands and carefully slips them down on the floor. Then he pulls her over in his lap and grinds up against her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “All the pictures were, but- those last ones with the comics and the- Oh, fuck, it was so sexy.”

“Really?” she almost whines, shocked by both his enthusiasm and at the sparks of pleasure shooting up in her at the way he ruts against her.

“I couldn’t help myself, I just had to jump on the first train,” he pants. “Only for you. Because I need you too. So much.”

“Fuck, Law, we need to,” she sighs, “we need to hurry. Off with these. Now.”

“Yeah?” he asks, not speeding up the touches, but actually slowing down and not making any move to remove any of his clothes either. “Are you impatient?”

There’s been a change in him. She couldn’t say when, but at one point he grew confident and now, he’s teasing her.

“Come on,” she orders, “this is not the time.”

He smirks, it’s small and subdued, but so free. It makes her want to smile along and join whatever he’s got planned, but Y/N has an agenda and Law getting fired up with teasing her is not a part of her plan.

“It’s not funny,” she says, trying to sound stern and failing.

“It is actually funny, Y/N,” he argues, “because I knew you’d be like this. All week, while you’ve been teasing me with your pictures, I have spent every waking minute thinking of ways I wanted to tease you back, when I finally got my hands on you.”

“Oh fuck, really?” she asks, getting warm at the thought.

“I knew you’d be so easy to rile up,” he murmurs as he embraces her to unclasp the bra at her back. When he finally gets it to work and pulls the fabric off of her, he lets out a satisfied groan. He starts kissing her chest, gently cupping her breasts with his large, warm hands.

“Oh, these are-” he moans and then his words get muffled as the kisses turn into small, tender nibbles and then an insistent sucking, “mmmh…”

Y/N can’t help the self-consciousness seeping through her pleasure and making her tense.

“They’re not that- I mean, I know that they’re-”

“No, they’re so perfect,” Law interrupts, pulling back to look up at her. “I love them.” He looks so wasted, so far gone. It puts her at ease.

“You think?”

“You are made for me,” he whispers, before once again putting his hot mouth on her nipple, giving it a light tug and releasing it.

“So are you going to give me more?”

“What are you talking about?” he chuckles, cupping her breasts and now even massaging them gently, taking a lot of pleasure in every squeeze. “I’m giving you so much already.”

“You know what I want,” she challenges him, her voice weak and breathless, but he ignores her.

“You smell so good,” he murmurs to himself, burying his face into the crook of her neck again, taking a long whiff of her scent.

Her head falls against his shoulder. She’s giving in to his teasing, revelling in the pleasure she gets, the way his touch feels so feverish and tingling against her skin. She does her best to just enjoy that and to put off all thoughts of what more she wants. She tries her best to just stay in the moment with him, not get impatient and definitely NOT start to beg or anything of the sort. But alas, she can’t help it.

“Please fuck me,” she whimpers before she can stop herself. “I just want you to fuck me hard, Law.”

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, but there’s no warmth in his reassurement, only vicious satisfaction at her weak state. “Begging already? You couldn’t wait any longer? I must say I’m almost disappointed. So impatient, but still so docile.”

She groans in frustration and gently tugs at his sweater to get him to take it off.

”Uh-uh,” he says. “You first.”

He undresses the rest of her and when all that’s left is her underwear, he lets her pull the sweater off over his head along with the t-shirt underneath. When Y/N lays her eyes on his naked chest and shoulders, it’s like she’s equipped with new energy. She takes charge and pounces, pushing him down on the mattress and keeping him there with force as she straddles his hips.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about these,” she says, letting a nail scrape against a line of his chest tattoo. Law inhales sharply, clearly affected by her newfound initiative.

She keeps tracing his tattoos with a faint touch and he responds instinctively, arching his back and lifting up to meet her touch, to get her to do more.

“Fuck, I just love your tattoos, Law,” she whispers, currently following the markings on his left arm, then all the way out to his fingers. She continues exploring the tattoos, but now with her mouth. Greedily, she takes three at a time, letting her tongue circle around each finger.

“Y/N,” he warns, sounding utterly weak.

She hums and buckles her hips down against his’, making him curse. At once she lets go of his hand and she leans over to meet him, face to face.

“Miss being in control?” she asks, teasingly. “Is that it?”

“No,” Law scoffs.

“I don’t believe you,” she sing-songs.

“So now you want to tease? I thought you were getting impatient?” he asks, obviously trying to get back in the driver’s seat. She isn’t going to let him.

“I think you’re very uncomfortable with giving away control,” she says, tenderly placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth, “but I also think it makes you even more turned on when someone takes it from you.”

Law manages to laugh, but it’s a hollow laugh, only made to conceal that what she’s saying is right. That the way she’s holding him down and taking the reins, is simply making him go insane.

“I am not going to deprive you of that depraved lust, baby,” she whispers, grinding down on him once more. “I’m going to shower you in it. I’m going to take care of you.”

“Y/N,” he moans.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Just give it to me,” he sighs. “I’ll take it all.”

She laughs. “Oh, how the tables have turned,” she teases, “but now it’s your turn to wait.”

“Please,” he begs, “I think I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying, Law,” she says, fondly caressing his forehead. “You’re living.”

“Ah,” he sighs. “It’s exhausting.”

While she strips him naked, he’s mostly quiet. A soft gasp here and there as her nails scrape against his skin or as she leaves an unexpected kiss along his thighs.

The last item of clothing she removes is the black boxers, keeping his very hard dick encaged in the tight fabric. She’s already noticed that it’s big, that it would be more than satisfying. She’s caught herself biting her lip in suspense just looking at the outline of it, more times than one. He’s probably caught her a few times too.

But when she actually strips the boxers off him and it bounces against his stomach in its natural state, she can’t help but widen her eyes at the sight.

“Shit, you are big,” she murmurs in surprise.

“Yeah, uhm, well,” he begins, shifting uncomfortably up to lean against his elbows, “it can be a bit much.”

She swallows hard, feeling excitement bubbles inside her at the thought and wondering just what “a bit much” would entail.

“Do you have any lube?” he asks. Suddenly he’s back to being uncomfortable and anxious, avoiding her gaze.

“Sure,” she says, moving closer to him and picking up his hand, “but I don’t think we’re going to need any.”

Then she leads his hand to push past the edge of her underwear and into the pooling wetness that lies beyond.

He inhales sharply when the tips of his fingers easily slide deeper into her, lubricated by one simple touch.

“Fuck me,” he gasps, “that’s incredible. You are fucking incredible.”

She recognises that if there’s one time where it’s appropriate for her to take control, it would be now. Even though Law’s eyes are clouded with lust from feeling her wetness with his own fingers, he still looks unsure of how to proceed. She would guess that he’s had multiple bad experiences with feeling guilty from hurting people during sex with his big, fat dick. Y/N would laugh if he didn’t look so distraught.

“Are you clean?” she asks, pulling off his panties.

He nods slowly.

“Me too,” she tells him, “and I’m on contraception.”

“What are you saying?” he asks.

“I guess I’m asking you if you would mind fucking me without a condom?”

Law’s jaw goes slack, then he nods.

“So you would mind?”

“What? No, I mean, no, I wouldn’t mind,” he corrects himself, his cheeks flaring up.

“Ok?” she asks as she takes a hold around his dick

“But shouldn’t we-” he begins.

“Just let me give it to you,” she reassures him, finding her place on top and lining herself with him.

“Are you sure?” he asks through gritted teeth as the head hooks into her entrance and the tip enters her.

“Yes,” she gasps at the delicious stretch, “I’ll take care of it. Just give me a minute before you do anything.”

“Fuck,” he curses, “yeah, ok.” He does his best to control his breathing as she begins sinking down.

He’s warm. And of course big. Girthy. She’s overwhelmed just from taking a little part of him.

“It’s not that bad,” she gasps, “just a little more time and I’ll be opened up and-”

That’s when the stretch becomes almost too much. She shifts her knees in order to lift herself up again ever so slightly, but then her knee lands on something slippery under the covers that makes her thigh glide further away.

In an attempt to keep herself upright, she tries leaning forward with her hands planted on his chest, but at the same time, Law lunges forward too, trying to grab her hips to keep her from falling and-

She slams down on his hips and he bottoms out into her, going deeper than she’s ever felt anything before.

“AHh, fuck.”

He groans at the long-awaited friction while she whimpers at the overwhelming stretch, painful and pleasurable at the same time.

“I’m so, so, sorry,” he begins. He takes a hold of her hips and tries to help her off him, but she won’t budge. She’s frozen, clinging to his torso with all she’s got.

“Y/N, get off,” Law orders, but it’s clear that it takes him a lot of restraint to utter those words, “I’m hurting you.”

“No,” she groans, “no, we have to stay like this for now.”

“Y/N-”

“It’s just so good, I can’t-” she gasps for air. Then she moves her hips in the slightest buckle and lets out a moan.

“Oh fuck,” Law groans, automatically gripping her hips in an attempt to get more movement out of her.

“Don’t move,” Y/N orders.

“Of course not,” Law croaks. “Wouldn’t fucking dream of it.”

“I just need this for a little bit,” she murmurs, once again grinding down very gently and very controlled, drawing out a frustrated whine from Law.

Oh. That’s nice.

She wants to hear it again, so she does it once more. It’s really too much for her, but it gives her just what she wanted. His groans are so deliciously arousing and she begins rocking in a constant movement to keep them coming.

“No, this is no good. You’re hurting,” he says and stops her movement with a firm grip around her waist. “Let me.”

There’s something in his voice that makes her turn compliant again and she lets him lead her off him and down to lie on the mattress. He pulls out another comic from under the sheets, presumably the cause of her little slip up. She whines in disappointment, already aching at the loss of him inside her, but then she feels a touch at her entrance again and quickly after a finger plunges deep into her.

Even though the pressure from one single finger is lacklustre compared to what she just experienced, the swift motion makes sparks fly all the way up to her ears.

“Again,” she begs.

He complies, but he must have added another finger already because the pressure increases, giving her a new type of shock.

“I’m done teasing you now,” he murmurs softly, “this is purely practical. Now that I’ve felt you all the way, I can’t help myself. I need to open you up as quickly as possible, so that I can fuck you hard, just like you asked me to.”

His words send a jolt through her stomach in time with his fingers sliding back in. This time, though, he keeps them there and slowly begins pulling her open from the inside, stretching her good. Then he pulls them out to an indignant groan from her.

“Y/N. Lube,” he orders.

“In the drawer,” she pants, “the nightstand.”

When his fingers return, they’re colder.

“You can take one more, right baby?” he asks softly. “You can take three of my fingers?”

“Yes,” she insists.

She can. Three whole fingers are stuffed into her and when he somewhat curls them, deep inside of her, her hips involuntarily buckle up into the air. She lets out a breathy whine.

“Yes! Do that again,” she pleads.

“Of course,” he grins.

And he does.

“Oh, I- it’s… ah,” she whines incoherently.

“You’re getting so loose,” he praises her. “Can you do one more?”

“I’ll take anything you give me,” she says, so high on the endorphins, feeling like nothing more than a pliant blob in his grip. He adds one more and now the stretch returns, but now it’s only good, no longer painful.

“You’re ready for another go?” he asks. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes!” she moans. “Fuck, I want to.”

His fingers pull out and she waits for him with her eyes fluttering closed. He finds his place and lines himself up, but he doesn’t push in. He rubs his tip against her folds, dipping in and out of the pool of heat.

She loves it so much, she doesn’t even think to complain about the teasing of it. She is even disappointed for a second when he stops, but then he begins sinking into her again and she can’t focus on anything else. She breathes deeply, ordering herself to relax into it, to be good. She wants him to think that she’s good.

He sinks in completely and stays there,

“Breathe,” he orders her. She releases the breath she’s holding. “Good. How does it feel?”

“Good,” is all she can think to say. “So good.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No, not like last time.” It’s hard to put together the words in whole sentences. It does hurt, but it’s not a scary hurt. It’s good. It’s so, so, so, so good. She feels like her brain is submerged in goo, making everything happen slowly.

“Just keep breathing. Until you’re completely relaxed,” he inhales deeply, “I won’t move at all.”

Y/N focuses all she’s got on her breathing. With each inhale she feels him stretch her more and with each outhale she relaxes around him. She’s sure he could have begun moving a long time ago without bringing any real hurt to her, but the slow pace brings a kind of excitement with it.

“60,” Law whispers, “59, 58.”

Slowly, he begins counting down. Without actually knowing what will happen when he reaches 0, Y/N can feel her arousal blossoming up even more. She begins yearning for movement, for friction.

“43, 42, 41.”

His mouth is almost at her ear and each whisper causes tingles down her spine.

“36, 35.”

She moans in response, showing him what he’s doing to her and how eager she is for him to reach the end of his countdown. He chuckles, but he doesn’t lose track of the counting.

“19, 18, 17.”

“Yes, Law,” she whispers. “Please, I want it.”

“11, 10, 9.”

She clenches hard around him, eager for the stimulation and he skips a number in response.

“6, 4,” he gasps. “3, 2, 1.”

Law pulls out halfway before he slowly pushes back in.

“Yes!”

It’s bliss. It’s only pure bliss.

He begins pumping into her, still not fast, but hard. Long, deep strokes. He takes her legs and lifts them up to get even deeper and she gasps at the sensation.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he pants, “is this okay?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes, it’s perfect.”

He replies with a filthy groan, picking up the pace considerably.

She can’t stop making sounds, it’s like he’s fucking them out of her. It’s like he’s unlocked a blockage in her chest and now all her airflow has to be made into sound. She’s chanting his name with each thrust.

“You’re so good for me,” he praises.

“Law.”

“Y/N,” he gasps, sounding close to his climax, “how can you come?”

“On top,” she manages to croak in between breaths.

In the next moment he pulls out of her and she’s being tossed around to land on top of his chest.

“Come on, please, just use me however you want,” he begs. “I’m yours.”

And she does.

It takes a while to build up, but when it arrives, she rides him through her climax with a grip around his shoulders so firm that she probably bruises him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, “fuck, you’re sexy. So perfect.”

“Law,” she groans, tensing up and collapsing on top of him.

“Let me fuck you, please, let me fuck you til I come,” Law begs.

“Yes. Just use me back,” she complies, feeling so completely relaxed and submissive, as if no real tension exists in her body. “Whatever you need, Law, take it.”

He fucks her fast, up close and intimate, forehead touching forehead, untill he comes deep inside her with a long-drawn groan and a sigh of her name.

----

When she comes back from the bathroom she finds an extremely relaxed Law, spread out across the bed. He lifts his arms, just barely, to show that he wants her to lay down next to him.

“Next time, I’m going to tease you-” he yawns in the middle of the sentence, “-a lot more. So just prepare yourself.”

“Yeah,” she grins, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You don’t think I could drive you insane?”

“Sure, but you would drive yourself insane first.”

A sheepish grin draws on his lips. It’s the most precious thing she’s ever seen and she pulls herself closer into him.

“Law,” she sighs.

“Yes?”

She hasn’t got anymore to say, but she lets out another satisfied sigh. He chuckles in response.

“I agree,” he murmurs.

“Remind me to thank Shachi,” she mutters to herself.

“Ok. Why?”

“He was the one who told me to send you the pictures,” she explains, almost half-asleep already. “He was the one who gave me all the advice during last week too. Told me to wear those skimpy shorts and to get you to drive me everywhere. To show up in the middle of the night with a bottle of wine.”

Law wakes from his postcoital stupor with a jolt.

“Wait a minute.” His face is drawn down in a frown of confusion. “You’re taking advice on flirting from Shachi?”

Y/N now too recovers to a more conscious state. Regret flashes over her face as she says, “Yeah, I uhm- Is that bad?”

Law falls back on the bed and buries his face in his hands. For a second it looks like he’s crying and Y/N begins to really freak out, but as he moves his hands to reveal his face, she sees that he’s laughing. Like a proper laugh. Big mouth, showing teeth. She even gets a glimpse of his tongue. It’s so different from all the smirking, chuckling and sinister laughter he usually does, it catches her completely off guard.

“I really overestimated you,” he sighs, coming down from his laughter high.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asks.

“Here I thought you were some magical siren creature, created from my deepest desires. Instead, it appears that I have a mole in my midst, leaking private information and you, it turns out,” he smiles, “are just as neurotic as me. Fuck, that is such a relief actually.”

As he says it, he reaches out after her and pulls her into his embrace. She ends up resting against his chest with her head against his shoulder. Suddenly him calling her neurotic is the highest compliment in the world.

“I might be neurotic, yes, though I could never compete with your nerves,” she argues, but all real concern is washed away and she is now in a blissful state of complaisance.

“Are you sure?” he counters. “Seemed like you could very well compete with my need for control. Maybe there’s more we have in common.”

“Let’s find out,” she chuckles.

“I can’t wait,” he responds fondly.

Y/N turns around and lies down on the top of his chest to look at him face to face. After studying him for a few seconds, gathering courage, she asks, “Be my boyfriend, Law.”

His eyes go big and his jaw goes slack. She holds her breath waiting for his response.

“Oh, okay,” he finally says. “Yeah, I would love to.”

“Really?”

“Fuck yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend,” he confirms, “and you’ll be my girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” she says.

“Shit,” he chuckles. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“But good.”

“Good.”

They both sigh deeply, almost in unison, both knocked out by the heat and passion of what they just experienced. And by the fear of finding something this good. Something they would want to keep forever, if they could.

Part 1

On AO3

[strwbrychffoncke]

"you'll feel it deep down whenever you're alone,, 1.1k words synopsis: caleb can't find it in himself to regret this if its something you've always wanted ,too contains: nsfw! (+ angst?) ,lnds caleb x afab!reader ,wouldn't call it 'forbidden love' but just playing w the idea of yearner!caleb (& coming to terms w being able to have u) ,caleb wrestling w guilt over his feelings ,reassurance from reader (u both want this) ,you sit on his lap ,confession ,kissing ,touching ,implied first time (more for caleb than for reader) ,hand holding ,unprotected sex ,piv ,caleb is kinda possessive right at the v end ,i think thats it note: (unedited!) knew this song was perfect for him but had to try had to write smth that would fit too.... this is lowkey a character study disguised as a fic :x also thought ab this + this art while writing which helps convey the feeling i was going for here (go support the artist they mean sm to me)

-

caleb knows he shouldn't feel like this.

he's known since he first realized his feelings back then.

how many years has it been now? he couldn't tell since he's loved you for as long as he could remember.

he's known he shouldn't feel like this, he does, but when you asked him so sweetly, sitting on his lap, testing the waters, pressing yourself against him and finding a shred of boldness to spill what's been on your mind all of these years, what could he do but comply with your desires?

"i'm in love with you, caleb. i always have been. i need you to know. i... i need you, more than anything. you're the only one that i want."

his hands caress the apples of your cheeks and he reminisces about your baby fat from when you were younger, admiring the current softness of them, unable to resist the urge to squish them just slightly.

he watches you nuzzle into his familiar touch, eyes fluttering shut at the comforting warmth of his hands.

his breathing picks up ever so slightly.

how many times have you been in this sort of situation right now? so close in proximity, breaths beginning to intermingle with one another, wondering who will make the next move.

a thumb glides over your lips, caressing the plushy flesh.

how many times has he held you like this, wanting more than anything to close the distance, but unable to find it in himself, hesitating before pulling back altogether?

your eyes crack open, looking directly into his.

'don't....'

"caleb..."

'don't look at me like that.'

you lean forward ever so slightly, eyes locked with his.

'don't....'

he feels your warm breath on his lips, so close that if he leans forward just slightly, he'll meet you.

'don't say it....'

"kiss me."

your words are a whisper against his lips, and his eyes are wide, looking back into yours, so close yet unwilling to make the move if he really isn't willing.

you've never made it easy for him.

his thumbs brush over your cheeks.

"are you sure?"

"i'm sure."

his forehead rests against yours.

"you've really thought about this?"

"more than anything."

he inhales a shaky breath.

"okay."

he closes the distance.

-

the kiss slowly escalates to now, his fingertips traveling slowly down your skin, hands trembling at your sides, torn between holding you in his firm grasp and pulling away completely.

you were the worst kind of drug to him.

but he could never stay away.

noticing his hesitation you gently rested your hands over his, pushing them flat against your abdomen.

"its okay," your voice was soft, too soft, too sweet right now.

don't say it like that.

"you can touch me, caleb."

his breath hitched.

don't say that so easily.

"i want this, too," you breathed out, offering a kind, reassuring smile devoid of the usual teasing you two were used to engaging each other with.

and he felt what little restraint he had left, snap.

don't....

he took a deep breath, planting his hands firmly onto your stomach, feeling the soft material of your shirt under his fingertips before he started dragging his hands up and down.

he looked up at your face.

you nodded. keep going.

his touch moved up, feeling your breasts through your shirt.

you hummed under the kneading of his large hands, and he felt his heart lurch.

he was really touching you like this.

you were so soft, just how he'd imagined you'd be. his heart hammered in his chest, unable to tear his eyes away from you, unable to tear his eyes away from the face that he was the one corrupting you this way.

even so, even if he felt like he was ruining you under the touch of his fingertips...

"caleb, take it off."

when your sweet reassurances were all that continued to spill from your lips, looking up at him pleadingly and longingly, how could this possibly be wrong?

-

caleb is taken aback at the sight of your body in all of its beauty.

sure, he had grown up with you, watching you grow in return, and would often be reminded of just how much you'd grown from back then.

this was a sight he'd only dreamed of.

he realized he'd been staring for too long when you squirmed under his gaze, looking to the side and shielding yourself with your arms.

"dont just stare.... i know i'm—"

"you're beautiful, pipsqueak," he breathes out.

you meet his eyes staring right back into yours, and watch as his hands reach for your wrists, removing your arms from your center and gently pinning them to the mattress.

his eyes rake over your body again, his hands inching up to intertwine his fingers with yours.

"i just.. can't believe i really get to have you like this."

you heart thrums, small smile curling on your lips. you knew exactly what he meant.

"me too," you whisper.

caleb lets out a shaky breath.

he feels you squeeze his hand.

"kiss me, caleb."

he doesn't think twice this time, leaning down to capture your lips with his, the depths of his feelings pouring directly into you, and you can feel it, feel how badly he's wanted this, how badly he wants it, and you're only filled with relief that the sentiment is shared.

when you break away and urge him to keep going, he does so with little hesitation.

each touch of his is spurred on by your pleased sounds and urges of "just like that" and "there" as he explores your body, learning about what exactly makes you feel good, committing it to memory for future reference of this repeated time together.

when you urge him on, whining about how you need him inside, caleb is slipping out of his shorts and boxers and tossing his shirt over his head, wasting no time in pumping himself with one hand and caressing your stomach with the other before lining himself up with your awaiting entrance.

he looks up at you again, another look.

"are you sure?"

and you grab onto his arms, eyes full of determination and desire.

"yes, wanted this for so long, please caleb!"

a relieved sigh.

"me too, pipsqueak."

when he sheathes himself into you for the first time, he can't bring himself to feel guilty anymore, not when this feels so right, not when you feel so good.

and when he begins moving within you, thrusting in and out and setting a steady pace, your sounds of pleasure filling his ears, the sight and feel of you enveloping his sense, he leans down to kiss you again, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you two were always meant to be together like this.

he wouldn't let you go. he would make you his properly, and you would always be together: caleb would make sure of it.

-

a/n: i know i know im behind... working on the other fics as we speak :x

-

[sossolei]

things that have helped me shift ⊹₊⟡⋆

DISCLAIMER, Just because I have shifted before doesn’t mean I am the Library of Alexandria. I’m a person just like you, learning as I go so I don’t have the answer to everything but I do try! I’m also not saying any of this will absolutely, 100% make you shift, but hopefully it can provide some perspective or insight into something you hadn’t thought about! !!! ANTIS DNI !!!

LANGUAGE — I’ve noticed since I first got into shifting that shifters will talk about/treat these realities like fanfiction or a role playing kinda thing??? It confused me before I had shifted because if this is real then why are people talking about themselves in the third person, or referring to others as “npc/non main characters”, or scripting in some crazy trauma for “fun”??? If you read anything of mine, you will notice I do not use words like “main character” or even “desired reality” because for me personally, it’s just reinforcing in my mind that this is not something that’s real or even close to something I can achieve.

Cut out third person language entirely. Stop referring to your “failed shifting attempts” as such, in fact, stop referencing it AT ALL. Stop keeping track. Stop referring to people in these realities as “main characters” or “npcs.” Stop coming back from an attempt thinking “damn I didn’t shift.”

INSTEAD, start saying that you shifted every time you attempt. “But I woke up in my O.R” who says? only you have a say in whatever reality you want to live in. Fake it til you make it. Start talking about people as they are, people. Use their names or nicknames. Watch a TikTok and think to yourself “yeah I’d send this to them.” FEEELLLLL IT. MAKE IT REAL TO YOUUUU.

LOGIC — After successfully shifting, I don’t tend to think about the “science” or “spiritual” side anymore BUT this is the logic that makes the most sense to me and is the simplest explanation I can think of. When you wake up in the morning, do you first check your phone or stand up to brush your teeth or stretch? Whatever path you choose is a shift in your reality. Every single choice you’ve ever made is a shift in your reality. As far as you know, if you checked your phone instead of stretching, you might pull something later on in the day that you wouldn’t have pulled had you stretched. But you didn’t. And now there’s a reality where you stretched, did the exact things, and didn’t pull a muscle because you stretched that morning.

THAT is reality shifting in its simplest form.

Manifesting can even be considered reality shifting because you’re shifting your current consciousness into one that is receiving said manifestion. The universe is infinite. Do not let the constrictions of others constrain you too.

“Yeah you can shift realities but not to those fantasy places like hogwarts, that’s not possible” why not? If you’ve just admitted can shift realities, why are “fantasy” realities so different to you? Because HERE in THIS reality, they are fantasy. In that reality, it is everyday, it is normal, it’s just another Tuesday. Shifting is simply becoming aware of your consciousness in another reality, similar to switching characters in video game like The Sims 4, from one plumbob to another and yes, that easy.

MEDITATION — You don’t need anything to shift realistically, but the one thing I recommend for anything is meditating. It’s a skill and, like any other, one that can be refined and perfected over time. Learning to get into a state of pure consciousness is a practice that existed for centuries, anybody can do it and doing it will only ever benefit you. You can meditate when you wake up, before you fall asleep, when you’re sitting up, WHENEVER! I’ve always felt better after a meditation, shifting related or not. It also helps me feel better when I don’t end up shifting because at least I’ve honed in and practiced that meditation technique, yk? Positives in everything!

OTHER PRACTICES — If nothing else, I recommend trying different spiritual practices and adding a lil sprinkle of shifting in there! This applies to religion as well in case that isn’t clear lol. If you don’t follow any specific spiritual practice, try pegan spell work (with protection and research ofc), research any herbs that aid in things like enhancing spiritual energy. If you pray to a God, you can “work” with your God in a sense to aid you in this personal journey, whether that be through journaling or actual prayer, prayer is an amazing manifestion technique and I do believe it can help with reality shifting considering it’s not against any religions. And if you don’t want to do any of this, come up with something for you and you only! A ritual can be anything you make it. You decide what works for you at the end of the day.

REMOVAL — This helped me the most in my opinion, I completely stepped away from online communities doing anything with reality shifting ( specifically shifttok ) and followed my own intuition of how to go about shifting, doing shadow work to figure out any blockages/questions I had, and just overall made shifting fun again for myself! The main thing I did was learn more about manifesting because the manifestion community does NOT play, they do not believe in limitations and they love LOA(ssumption) which is my fav so!

LUCID DREAMING — Not the actual act of lucid dreaming but learning about lucid dreaming and astral projection really makes you understand that anti shifters are so ignorant to what these things actually are it’s insane! People didn’t even believe that you could control your dreams 10-20 years ago, they genuinely thought dreams were just something that happens to you. Nowadays, we obviously know that you can control your dreams but this is just proof that nobody knows what they’re talking about fr. I guarantee you, a few years from now, people are gonna be talking about reality shifting the same way they talk about lucid dreaming, CASUALLY. Reality shifting is not some big thing of grandeur that only “special” people can do, the same way everyone can lucid dream, is the same way everyone can reality shift, and astral project.

All this is to say, stop fucking listening to other people LMAOOO. That’s gonna be my advice every single time because too much of anything will become a problem. Advice is good when you’re starting out and I don’t mind giving advice on that, but nobody knows you better than you know yourself, even if you don’t think you know what to do, I PROMISE you on everything, you know what’s best for you. You know what works, and you know what doesn’t, YOU KNOW. Believe yourself. Nobody else matters.

“you are the light. it’s not on you, it’s in you. don’t you ever in your motherfucking

life dim your light for nobody.”

[ghoularaki]

May I request, Sylus at the Gentleman’s bar? For the love hotel(?)

NOW ENTERING HEART'S DESIRE MOTEL

cw: public sex, shameless sylus, cockwarming, fingering

Tucked in the back of the bar, on the upper level, you stare down at the other people mingling. Sighing loudly on purpose, you glanced at Sylus immersed in his phone. You sighed again more exaggerated and at that he peered up at you.

“I know, I know, sweetheart. There’s much better things—or people—I rather be doing than entertaining some boring supplier.”

You wave your hand flippantly, “Yeah yeah, business is important. But why do they insist on bothering you when we are supposed to be having fun.”

Sylus gave you a side smirk. You did not like that look.

“Let’s have some fun then.” Putting his phone down, he lugged you on top of his lap. Pushing you to sit on his knees, the unzipping of his pants reached your ears.

Gaping over your shoulder, you watched him pull his already half-erect cock from undone pants and underwear. “How you already hard?” You were baffled by him.

“What can I say, I can't help it when you act like a spoiled princess.”

You pouted with a scowl, “You are impossible.”

He hummed and pulled your hair to the side to kiss your neck. A shiver shot up your spine. Hitching up your dress, Sylus pulled your panties to the side. From the front, he instantly went for your slit. Like muscle memory, he swiped up and found your clit.

“You think you can get wet enough for me in five minutes?”

“Why the time crunch?” You asked, already breathy.

He tilted his head with a sly grin, “You’ll see.”

Before you could question him further, his fingers dipped further down. Two fingers entered you and you winced a little at the stretch. You welcomed it, though. You loved how he split you open whether it was his fingers or his cock.

Rapidly, he thrust his fingers while the heel of his hand grinded on your clit. Little moans left your lips as he played with you like his favorite toy. Leaning forward on your elbows, you grinded your hips to match the pace of his fingers.

Sylus’ phone ringing pulled you from your haze. He flipped his phone over without stopping him pistoning his digits deep in your cunt. Your mouth dropped as he picked up the call.

Bringing the phone to ear, he answered, “I’m on the upper level by the right side… Uh huh… See you soon.” He hung up and dropped the phone back on the table.

“What are you doing?”

He ignored you, “I think you are wet enough.”

You whined as he departed from your core, leaving you empty and on the edge. Using the slickness that coated his palm, he pumped him cock a couple times to get it wet. Clutching your waist with one hand to force you up, he used his other to guide his dick to your twitching hole.

A moan ripped from your throat at the stretch. His cockhead popped inside your cunt. Using both hands, Sylus forced you back until you took him to the hilt. Your thighs spasmed from being fill to the brim. Back to chest, you leaned your head on his shoulder as gasps fell from your lips. His head hit right on the spot deep in you. Leisurely, he gyrated his hips to keep bumping against it.

“Do you think you can keep silent while I talk to the supplier? It won’t take more than twenty minutes tops.”

Sylus stared straight at you. You knew his question had a double meaning: Can you keep quiet and are you okay with this?

Smiling at him with a dopey grin, you gave your enthusiatic consent. You trust him completely.

Kissing your temple, he stopped his hips right in time. Composing yourself, you sat up to not look as fucked out as you already were. The supplier rounded the corner, a look of surprise on his face at you sitting on him and not next to Sylus.

The supplier didn’t say anything, fully aware any ill spoken about you was a swift death.

Sylus greeted him and the meeting started. As the two men talked, you tried not to move. Even without any friction, Sylus filling was enough to keep you on the edge. Seeming to already to be bored with the men in front of him, Sylus shifted his hips. To the supplier, Sylus was getting more comfortable but you knew better.

Your mouth almost dropped at sparks igniting behind your eyes as Sylus hit deeper inside. Sneakily, Sylus dipped his hand down and up your skirt to swirl your neglect clit. You couldn’t help the moan that left you but you quickly covered it with a cough.

With quivering hands, you grabbed your drink and took a sip. The supplier didn’t say anything besides side-eye you but continued the conversation.

Sylus added more pressure. Clicking could be heard from your soaking cunt and heat crept up onto your face. You hoped the supplier wasn’t paying close enough attention. Though when you glanced at him, his face was flushed.

Your gaze bounced to Sylus who had a smirk on his face. Being caught only made him bolder. Not being subtle anymore, he lazily pumped his hips up to bounce you on his cock. At the movement, you fell forward on the table again.

Biting your lip, you tried to muffle your noises to the best of your ability as Sylus kept driving into you. Your body bobbled with each buck. There was no way to hide what was hiding. With a pathetic whimper, you collapsed onto the table. Gnawing on your own arm, you spasmed as you came right in front Sylus and one of his suppliers. Sylus gave your overworked clit a couple of reassuring pats.

Clenching your eyes closed, you refused to make eye contact as Sylus kept talking. The supplier stuttered as he tried his best not to look at the spectacle in front of him. He talked faster like he wanted out of there as fast as possible. You didn’t blame him.

“It was pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Sylus.”

“You as well,” Sylus had a cocky, pleased expression obvious on his face.

The supplier awkwardly got up and hightailed out of there, an erection straining against his pants. He didn’t want to die today.

Sylus’ chest heaved as he chuckled. Satsified with himself, he thrusted harder into you, ready for his turn to cum.

“F-fuck,” you groaned, “You’re so mean.”

Leaning down, he planted more kisses on your neck. Licking his way up to your eat, he bit the shell of it, “You love it.”

[damnfeelings09]

VALENTINE'S DAY COUNTDOWN

You're in love - Leon S. Kennedy x fem reader

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x female reader Tags: fluff, comfort, love, love, love, stablished relationship, memories, cheesy stuff. Word count: Prompt: you and Leon have been together for 10 years, yet every day still feels like the first. One day while Leon’s not home you find your old diary and find yourself reliving your love story. Notes: The tears/shivers/emotions I felt while writing this I can't compare to anything. I loved this one so much I'm totally writting one for Shadow just like this. It makes me very happy to be able to express my feelings and “relive” them even if only in this way, hopefully someday I and everyone will find a person who loves us just like in the books, until then I will keep pouring my heart in my writing.

The summer heat was present in your home. The sunlight reflected colorful flashes as they hit the window. The floor was littered with boxes, some marked with “fragile” others with “Leon stuff” but your attention was on the box with your name on it. In it you had found your childhood stuffed animal, pictures of your family, a few unused stickers and an old notebook. You recognized it perfectly, there was no way you could forget that beautiful blue notebook with green hearts that had been with you for so long. Having a diary sounded childish, but for you it was important to keep your memories somewhere safe and if you ever wanted to relive them you could do it. For more than half an hour you had been rereading all your witticisms, the stale jokes you made with yourself, the desires and goals you had set for yourself when you got to college. Almost halfway through the journal you found a sheet of paper with your name and Leon's name on it with a big heart around it. Of course you knew where that drawing was from, you had drawn it the first time you had seen Leon, turning the page you found the entry for that day:

02/02/1998

The University of Illinois is really nice! I am so excited to leave for the summer. Mom says she's not ready for me to leave home but she's secretly happy for me. We visited some stores, museums, but the best part of the trip was going to the Italian restaurant Olio e Piú. Our waiter was sooooo cute. His name is Leon Scott Kennedy, he is 21 years old and just finished the police academy, he said that being a waiter was only temporary while he was waiting for the draft to know where he would be sent. I almost fell out of my chair when I saw that on the bill was his number written. Of course I didn't waste a second and sent him a message on my way out of the restaurant. We are still here for 3 more days and he offered to show me around. I don't want to sound urgent but I think Ms. Kennedy sounds great.

You chuckled. Back then you were so love-struck and dreamy. Your younger self had so much faith in life, wanting to take it in hand, and besides, you were right about one thing, Ms. Kennedy sounded so good in you. You kept turning the pages until you found an important date, once again a heart adorned the page, this time only with Leon's name.

25/04/1998

I'm on my way to Ilinois again, I know, I know, you'll say I'm crazy, that we're going too fast because we've actually only been on 2 dates, but Leon and I text to each other every day. He understands me, laughs at my witticisms and I love his dad jokes. It may be soon but I would love for it to be him. I had to lie to my parents that I would be staying with my Aunt Sarah for the next 10 days, actually I will be staying with Leon, don't judge me, Aunt Sarah was the one who insisted on covering for me. I am very excited, Leon will pick me up at the bus station and take me to a special place. I'll tell you later how it went.

12:45 am

He asked me to be his girlfriend! There were candles, roses, strawberries and stars. I couldn't ask for anything more. I think I am in love with him.

At that moment you didn't really know what it meant to be in love, it wasn't just the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, it wasn't just the happiness of having him close to you or the excitement you felt every time you kissed him. Love was something very complicated to understand, even more to explain. It was like an invisible force that attracted you to him, altering all your senses, making you addicted to that feeling, excited, but at the same time it managed to keep the other emotions at bay, you felt protected, comfortable, whole.

11/29/1998

We had a fight. Leon told me he had to report to his new job in Raccon City, today! Today of all days. He knew how important it was to me that he come to this party with me and he didn't care. Right now he must be on his way or whatever. Idiot

06/29/2001

Leon is working. It’s almost been a year since the last time we saw each other and I don't know how long I can go on enduring it. It is unfair that all this has happened, stupid pharmaceuticals and their greed. If it wasn't for them we would be together now living in an apartment in Raccon City. I feel bad, I miss him so much, I miss his kisses and his kind smile, but I can't tell him. The last time I saw him his expression had changed, his eyes didn't look friendly anymore, they turned cold, he looked calculating, as if he was waiting for something to happen. I can't judge him, he has been through a lot, only the gods know how he is still in one piece after the massacre he lived through. I'm happy he's still with me, but I keep wondering if he's still the same Leon I fell in love with.

The Raccon City incident had changed the jovial, awkward, fun-loving Leon into a distant, apathetic, dry one. He had confided in you all that had happened, or at least a little more than the government had allowed him to say. He had cried in your shoulder lamenting for those people he had been unable to save, trying to justify his every action as self-defense. You had listened to him, wiped away his tears, stroked his back as he let it all out. You had shown him that no matter what had happened you loved him unconditionally, you had even encouraged him to take the job offered to him by the U.S. government assuring him that you would wait for him and you did.

11/11/2004

He came back. Three days ago, as I opened the door to take out the garbage, Leon was there, with his travel bag in hand and a bandage covering half of his right shoulder. I know he said he would, but part of me didn't believe it. The state he's in, gods, you don't know how I regret encouraging him take this job. Sometimes he wakes up screaming babbling about “the plagues”, when that happens he reaches for my chest, lies on me and holds his ear close to my heart, he says it calms him. I'm just glad he's back home with me, I don't know how or how long it will take but I'll help him put all his pieces back together, I love him, I can't stand seeing him like this.

When he left for spain, the fear of not knowing anything about his where abouts for almost a month was unbearable, then one day he shows up on your door. Beaten, bruised, tired, haggard and thinner than the last time you saw him, but alive, yes a few cuts and his shoulder bandaged but he was there. You couldn't help but run into his arms, he catches you in the air, and then both fell to the grass as you filled his face with kisses. The following days you took care of him, his nightmares were recurrent but your touch always managed to bring him back to the real world. The necklace you had given him before he left, a locket with his favorite picture of you and the phrase “Love, always” engraved on it, always in place, just like you did with yours, a small reminder of the love between you two.

05/06/2006

I said yes.

I can't believe it really happened. Seven years ago I dreamed it as I watched him clean the tables and today that dream came true. I know we are not perfect, I know Leon's line of work will keep him away from me more than I would like to, but I can't imagine my life with anyone else. I chose him long before I knew what would happen and even if I did back then I would do it all over again.

Leon recreated our first date, rented a cabin in Georgia, brought a blanket, a basket with candles, wine, glasses and strawberries. We sat under the stars and when I least expected it he got down on one knee in front of me, told me that I was the woman of his dreams, that he couldn't live without me even if he tried, that I was the only good thing in his crappy world, that all he thought about when he fought those B.O.W's was that he was making the world a little safer for me and that it didn't matter how many zombies he had to take down as long as he came home to me.

Of course I said yes. No matter what, he's the one.

You closed the diary, hugging it tightly, trying to push those memories into your heart again. Yes, things had been difficult, complex, sometimes the cost had been high, the tears, the anger and the loneliness had been more constant than you wanted to admit, but you wouldn't change any of it because somehow, the little piece of heaven seeing Leon's smile every time he came home, his scent enveloping your senses as he took you in his arms, was enough.

The sound of the door opening brought you back to reality.

“Hey honey, what you doing?” Leon said, putting down the bags he was carrying in his hands and walking towards you “I see someone got distracted and forgot to unpack” he laughed kissing you.

“You've no idea” you smiled intertwining your hands behind his neck, kissing him once more.

[fairyminnie444]

Inertia Method: How to Fix Your New Identity in the Subconscious ︵‿୨♱୧‿︵

In the context of the Law of Assumption, inertia means that the state you’re in tends to continue until you consciously change it.

Your current state—how you see yourself, what you believe to be true about your life—has been constructed through unconscious repetition and acceptance. If you don’t actively change your identity, your reality will continue to reflect what’s already ingrained in you.

Example of Inertia in Practice

𖤝 If you’ve always seen yourself as someone who struggles to make money, that identity continues automatically, effortlessly, because it’s already ingrained.

𖤝 If you consciously shift into the identity of someone who’s a millionaire and maintain that assumption, your new reality will take hold and maintain itself in the same way the old one did.

The key is to saturate your mind with the new identity until it becomes your new inertia. At that point, you don’t have to “try” anymore—reality will just naturally respond to your new state.

𓉸ྀི THE METHOD 𓉸ྀི

To saturate your mind and make your new identity become your natural inertia, you need to have ready answers for when doubts arise. The goal is that, instead of fighting against 3D, you condition your mind to only accept your new reality as an absolute fact. Here are some techniques you can apply in your daily life to stay grounded:

1. Corrected Self-Talk (Absolute Control of the Narrative) ༯

When a doubt or negative thought arises, you immediately correct it without hesitation. Don’t argue, don’t rationalize—replace it on the spot.

❌ Doubt: “What if this is all a delusion?”

✅ Response: “Nothing is more real than my certainty. 3D is just adjusting.”

❌ Doubt: “But what if it doesn’t happen?”

✅ Response: “It already happened. I only see what I already know to be mine.”

✘ This is automatic. There can be no room for questioning. ✘

2. “Closed Loop” Technique (There Is No Other Option) ༯

You act as if the other possibility doesn’t even exist. Your mind only has one story to repeat.

🥀 Example: If doubt arises, you respond internally:

𖤝 “I am (insert your desire here). That’s a fact.”

𖤝 “It’s always been this way. How could it be different?”

𖤝 “What I am, 3D reflects. I know who I am.”

✘ You create a mental loop where only this truth exists. ✘

3. Calculated Reaction to 3D (Total Control of Emotions) ༯

If something in 3D tries to challenge your assumption, you don’t react negatively. You treat anything as something irrelevant and temporary.

📌 Example: If your sp still doesn’t text you or acted like you want, instead of doubting, you think:

🖤 “Obviously it’s already worked. It doesn’t mean anything.”

🖤 “My success is already real. Time is irrelevant.”

🖤 “I’m on top. The rest is just adjustment.”

✘ The key is to treat anything that isn’t your assumption as insignificant and transitory. ✘

4. Saturation Through Repetition (Relentless Affirmations) ༯

You constantly reaffirm, as if you’re reminding yourself of something that’s always been true. This isn’t to manifest, it’s to reinforce your identity.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐ Examples of short, powerful affirmations:

𖤝 “I’m a millionaire and always have been.”

𖤝 “My beauty is surreal and everyone notices it.”

𖤝 “My life has always been perfect.”

𖤝 “I am desired, idolized, and untouchable.”

✘ Use this as a mental pattern throughout the day. ✘

5. “Mandela Effect” Technique (Erase Old Reality) ༯

If your mind tries to remind you of the past or a “problem,” you change the memory right away.

📌 Example: If you remember a difficult time in the past, you immediately correct yourself:

🖤 “It never happened like this. It was always easy.”

🖤 “I’ve always been a millionaire.”

🖤 “I am my SP’s absolute priority, I always have been.”

✘ You literally rewrite your story in your mind until it becomes automatic. ✘

6. Congruent Behavior (Act As If It’s Already True) ༯

You act and make decisions like the version of yourself that already has it all. This sends a clear signal to your mind that there is no other option.

🥀 If you’re already a millionaire: You don’t feel anxious about money. You just know you have it.

🥀 You already have your SP. You don't care if he/she is in thinking of you or not. You know they are.

🥀 If your life is perfect: You don't act like someone who's still trying.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Bottom line ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

✔ Always immediately correct any thoughts outside of the new identity.

✔ Never react negatively to 3D.

✔ Keep mentally repeating your assumption all day long.

✔ Erase any old memories or beliefs that don’t serve you.

✔ Act as if it is already real—because it is.

The more you practice this, the faster 3D bends to reflect your new inertia.