#there is nothing I want to see in the ocean or in space

[darlingdaisyfarm]

My Love Mine All Mine | Stanley Pines

★ Caryn Pines gives her son the only thing that truly belongs to him. love that will live in the people he loved and in the people they will love after him.

for Stanley Pines, whose soul was too big for his own body, so he gave the extra away. who had nothing and so he gave everything

i highly recommend listening to this song when reading <3 its by Mitski

before anything else, before words, before thought, there is love. and love is red, love is screaming, love is Stanley Pines coming into this world.

and his world begins with a cry. Stanley is loud as he will ever be, his tiny body shaking with a ferocity.

she holds both of her sons to her chest, skin to skin, two tiny bodies curling into her warmth, and she knows. these are mine.

and she loves them both like the ocean loves the shore.

Caryn feels two new hearts against her. she presses Stan close, feeling the tremble of his breath. he is too small to know what he needs, but she does.

Caryn knows that everything she does will leave a mark. she won’t leave them money, she won’t leave them houses, but she will leave love. a love so vast, so infinite, it will fill spaces long after she is gone, after the years pass.

“you are mine. all mine, my love. i will teach you how to love, because that’s the only thing that will ever belong to you.”

Ford is quiet in her other arm, calmer, softer, less of a storm, more a ripple in the ocean. but his twin is a storm and he will carry that storm with him always. it will be his curse and his blessing and Caryn will teach him how to contain it. she hopes it plants something deep inside him that will take root, that will never leave him, even when she does.

“Stanley,” she breathes, pressing a kiss to the forehead of the loud one. she shifts, pressing another kiss to the quiet one. “Stanford.”

Stanley never stops crying unless Caryn holds him. and Ford never cries at all. unless Stanley is taken away, so Caryn carries them both at once because her arms are strong and her heart is stronger. Ford rests in the crook of her arm, Stanley clings to her like a little stubborn monkey.

she sings to them before they understand words, sings because love is the only language they will ever need.

“moon, tell me if i could, send up my heart to you? so when i die, which i must do, could it shine down here with you?”

Stanley kicks his feet in time with the melody. Ford watches her mouth move, curious.

Caryn takes Stanley to the ocean, cradles him against her chest as the tide curls around her ankles. the waves roar, and he giggles, his small hands grasping at the sea spray.

“see, sweetheart?” she smiles, bouncing him gently. “this is yours. the whole ocean.“

Stanley realises, this is home. this is the ocean. and he will love it, because Caryn loves it and Caryn is his, so it belongs to him too.

Stan buries his face in her neck, grinning against her skin. Ford is on the shore, his tiny fingers curling into the sand, fascinated by the way it shifts beneath him.

her boys. her whole world.

it’s strange, the way children grow. they exist between moments, one minute they are so tiny, and the next, they are already eight.

and Stanley, with all his fire, all his want to hold the world in his hands, is too much. too much for this small house, too much for his small body. so he reaches.

when it rains, Stanley runs outside, arms wide open like he could hold the whole sky, mouth open to catch the drops. Caryn doesn’t mind, she never minds. she takes his hand and twirls him in circles until they are both dizzy, rain-soaked, laughing.

Ford stands under the porch, watching, waiting. he is quieter still, more thoughtful. he is different. he watches moths with wide eyes, reaches for mushrooms with eager hands

Ford loves the quiet things, the soft things, the dark, the mysterious. Stanley doesn’t understand it. how could he understand the silence when he was born from a cry?

Stanley finds the moths disgusting, he sticks out his tongue when it flutters too close. but Caryn only laughs, cupping one in her gentle hands, watching the delicate way it moves. “he sees the world different than you,” she tells Stanley. “and that’s beautiful.”

Stan pouts. but later, she catches him watching Ford watching the moths. he wants to understand.

that is the thing about love, she thinks. you don’t have to understand someone to love them. and she is proud of them both. they balance each other

but Stanley does understand love, because his mom has given it to him in every moment, in every touch. she is raising him on it, feeding it to him like milk.

but he doesn’t know yet that one day, when he is older and the world becomes too rough for him, love will be the only thing he has left. it will be the thing that pulls him through.

Stanley is joy. Ford is quiet. and Caryn is the bridge, the hands that hold both at once. she knows that love is different for each of them. she loves them in the way they need to be loved.

one more thing about love: it does not stop the world from moving forward and it's not enough to keep Stan and Ford from growing up.

the house is too quiet without Stanley’s voice filling the halls. he leaves with his mother’s love carved into him, so when she'll be gone, it'll feel like he is bleeding.

but when Caryn dies, she lives in him. Stanley wonders if he could send his heart up to her. he wonders if she knew if he still carried her love in his hands because no one else in the world could ever take it from him.

and that love, the one she taught him, it moves through him like a pulse, and Stanley doesn’t know how to let it go. but he does not need to. it will never leave him, even when everything else does

years pass, and his mother's love is still in him.

it’s many years later when he meets a boy without a father. a kid with a too-big heart. the same hunger for a love that doesn’t ask for anything. so Stan does what he was taught, he holds Soos close, he becomes what Caryn was for him.

Stanley does not think about it when he ruffles his hair, when he buys him lunch without being asked, when he shows him how to fix things.

he pours that love into the boy, as best he can, knowing full well it isn’t enough. but love, as his mother said, it is all he has to give. it is the thing that will stay, even after he is gone.

years pass, and when Mason and Mabel are born, Stanley stands at the edge of the hospital room, hands shaking.

Mabel is first, she arrives screaming, loud, red. Stanley strokes her tiny cheek with his thumb, only now realising how he looked when he came into this world. so this was me, he thinks. Caryn always mentioned it. now he knows. because now Mabel exists and she is warmth, she is loud, she is life, she is the echo of his own baby wail. too much love in too small a body.

Stan does not expect to cry, but he does.

because when Mason is placed in his arms, there is a birthmark on his forehead. a constellation written into his skin. Stan doesn't know if he's crying or laughing because the universe must be playing a joke on him.

six fingers, the big dipper, twins.

it’s too much like Ford, too much like the thing he lost

Stan's heart is too full, too raw, too open. and when he holds both kids, so small, so pure, he understands. he understands what it means to love something so much that it hurts. because this is what he does and he will do it for as long as he can: he loves. he loves the children, he loves the world in pieces, he loves the moment he’s in, because that is all he can do.

Stanley swallows hard and pulls Mason close, because he misses hugging his brother. he presses his forehead against the baby's and laughs. “kid, you got some big shoes to fill.”

Mabel gurgles in his other arm, as if reminding him she’s here too. Stan grins. "don't worry, sweetheart. i won't forget you."

he never does. because they are his now.

when they’re little, Stan carries them both at once, just like his mother did. he rocks them in his arms, sings to them like his mother sang to him and Ford.

so when i die, which i must do, could you shine it down here for her?

the years pass, and Stanley is there.

he carries Mabel on his shoulders, spins her in the rain, lets her paint his nails and knuckles with glittery nail polish.

Mabel reminds him of himself. she is messy, untamed, wild with love. Mason reminds him of someone he cannot say out loud, but that is okay.

Mason. . . Mason with his notebooks and his questions and his hunger for the strange. Stanley listens. always. because he remembers Ford’s voice, too. remembers what it was like to have so much inside you and no one to tell it to.

nothing in the world belongs to him. not really. not his home, not his name, not even his own history.

except his love.

Stan looks in the mirror and sees his mother’s hands, sees the way she used to hold his face, thumb brushing his cheek.

“i did good, ma,” he says, not expecting an answer. the moon is outside, glowing with a light it doesn’t own.

and Stanley knows. love is the only thing that never left him. his, all his. it lives in the ocean. in the rain. in the wings of a moth. in the laughter of a child.

it lives in the hands of a boy who learned how to fix things. in the laughter of a girl who runs into storms. in the eyes of a boy who sees magic in what others ignore.

when he dies, his love will not.

it will live in Soos’ hands, when he holds his own child for the first time

it will live in Mabel’s loud laugh, when she spins her brother’s kids in the rain

it will live in Mason's voice, telling stories to people who will listen

love is the only thing that does not end.

his love, his, all his.

[chiefguideandcentre]

If going to a certain place means that I can’t breathe normally and on my own without the need for special equipment, special suits, or a special means of transport, then I’m not going.

[blvdheart]

LIKE A LITTLE PIECE OF HEAVEN

→ Sneaking around with your grandparents’ ranch hand during the summer!

CW: x Fem!reader with she/her pronouns, starts with fluff and turns into smut, switch!Leon, dry humping, cowgirl, butterfly (i think that’s the position name?), fingering, short hold the moan snippet, reader wears a sundress at one point, mention of a palm injury via a cut

WC: 1.8k

NOTE: written just for fun to entertain myself during an excruciatingly long car ride, sorry that it’s fast paced </3 title lyric is from ‘tulsa jesus freak’ also i tried my best at a southern accent for him okay

MASTERLINK

You always complained whenever your parents sent you on your annual trip to your grandparents’ place. Mosquitoes ran rampant and a prayer whilst holding hands was mandatory before every meal. Summer was supposed to be a break so you could be lazy in bed all day, but now you had to go help tend to the animals.

Sure, farm animals are cute and all…but gushing over how adorable they are is much different from actually taking care of them. So much for that ‘Charlotte’s Web’ childhood dream of yours, none of the pigs are like Wilbur!

But you had a change of attitude when you went the summer after your freshman year of college. Upon your arrival, your suitcase was hauled by strong skin-kissed hands, like if your packed belongings weighed a mere pound.

Looking up, your eyes met irises that rivaled the beauty of the ocean.

Oh.

You almost had to physically lift your jaw back up to introduce yourself. Then you ran upstairs to bury your face into your pillow.

Leon Kennedy. Would his last name suit your first name? Or vice versa? Jesus.

That first summer was full of fleeting glances and flirtatious conversation. There was something romantic about being in a space far away from civilization. Like you were in your own little universe with him whenever the two of you snuck around. During dinners, you always nudged at his leg with your boot to mess with him, liking the way he cleared his throat to ward off a smile.

And maybe you relied on silly methods to see if your feelings for him were reciprocated.

Pluck.

He likes me.

Pluck.

He likes me not.

Pluck.

He likes me.

Pluck.

He likes me not.

Pluck. Last one.

He likes me!!!

Childish excitement coursed through you, an instantaneous smile on your face. You thanked Mother Nature for giving you the answer you wanted.

You also thanked the Sun every day for gifting freckles to Leon. One day, you held onto his face and tried to count them all. Squinting your eyes, you counted aloud, missing the way he looked at you with nothing but sweetness in his gaze.

The world around you was muted, as if the cows standing behind the fence had stopped mooing just for the sake of your concentration.

“Sure this is gonna work? Listen, I’ve always been an optimistic fella but—“

“Shh, you’re distracting me.” After a beat, you groaned. “Fuck I lost count. Okay, hold still for real this time.”

“Sure, doll.” She’s real cute, he thought to himself.

Or that one time when the Sun’s beams were too hot and made Leon take his hat off so he could pour a fresh bucket of water on his head. You felt so betrayed at the sight.

“You’re shitting me!”

“What?”

“Your roots…” Not very polite, but you pointed at his hair. “I thought you were blonde. Like, born blonde.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He hid his amusement with a shrug, lowering his head to give you a better look. “Haven’t had time to dye it.”

And of course, you owed the Moon some gratitude for being an audience member to a memory you cherished. If said memory could be physically stored, you’d keep it on a frame so you could rewatch the moment your relationship blossomed.

The confession came when two heartbeats aligned, two bodies snuggled against each other on top of the roof. Leon gazed at you as if you hung up the stars and moon that were beautifully assorted in the sky, the same ones he had admired all alone prior to you coming here. He never thought he’d have a pretty woman wanting to get to know him.

“This is crazy…I can actually see the constellations out here.” Your words were a murmur, the glimmering dots above reflecting in your pupils.

“And ya couldn’t back at home?”

“Pfft. With all the pollution in the city? Not a chance.”

“Yeah? Mus’ be a special night for ya, then.”

It was. But not because of the view, rather, because of the handsome guy holding you close like you were his girlfriend.

“Yeah, it is.”

A hat was placed onto your head. His hat.

You broke your admiration of the stars, turning to look at him instead. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, suddenly his hand was cupping the side of your face. His skin was scarred and calloused against yours, a physical manifestation of how different his lifestyle was from yours.

Books always made it seem like butterflies would be swarming in your stomach at moments like these. But you felt calm. This was fate, it was supposed to happen. And who were you to deny the universe’s pull and Cupid’s arrow?

Leon was a gentleman first and foremost. “Can I…?”

“Mhm.”

Your first kiss was witnessed by the moon.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

You kept in touch through letters. Leon was old fashioned, and very rarely did he pick up his cheap flip phone when you tried giving him a call. Something about his phone always being stored away, he hardly used the thing anyway. He already had the task of picking up the mail, so it wasn’t like your grandpa or grandma would get it.

You didn’t mind much. There was something endearing about sending letters, running to the mail like you were a dog fetching the weekly newspaper. It was hard to imagine his voice sometimes when reading his letters because he wrote all properly, it didn’t match his accent.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to send another letter. I accidentally cut my hand when fixing up a fence and it took a while to heal, it left a scar. I’m okay though, promise. Just don’t want you to think I forgot about you or anything like that. Your grandpa was real nice about it, he gave me some time off, he’s got a kind heart. And your grandma kept cooking up some soup…said it would help me heal quicker. Not sure if it’s true, but it left my stomach happy and that counts for something.

The entire time I was resting, I found myself thinking of you. Would you have patched my hand up if you were here? Kissed my pain away?

Every time I look at the moon, I wonder if you are too.”

You always traced over his handwriting with an unclicked pen before proceeding to leave a kiss mark on the corner of the page and putting it in your stored pile.

Summer became the highlight of your years. You actually packed cute clothes now, flowy sundresses and some matching undergarments you wouldn’t mind Leon seeing. Of course, you also bought some riding gear, wanting to partake in his hobbies too.

The instant you were back at the farm and the two of you were alone, Leon grabbed you by the hips and pressed you up against the outdoor wall of the house, smiling at you all coyly.

“Missed ya. Shoulda jus’ stayed here with me.”

“Thought you liked me for pursuing a higher education?” Your grin matched his. Maybe after you got your degree you’d join him more often.

“Mhm.” God, that intellect of yours was sexy. He could listen to you ramble about your ambitions for ages. “Wish that college of yers was nearby, though.”

“That makes two of us…I missed you too, by the way.” Your lips inched closer to his. “A lot.”

His cheeks turned roseate, his heart thumping as fast as the hooves of a bronco at a rodeo. “…Yeah?”

“Don’t sound so unsure! Need me to show you?”

“I’d appreciate that, y’know how I am.” Leon wasn’t the most self assured, having been worried you’d find some college guy to get with.

All it took was some more sweet talking and daring touches on your end before he hoisted one of your legs up with your permission, the fabric of your dress lifting and bunching around your hips, the plush of your ass pressed against the weathered down paint of the walls.

He let you set the pace, keeping you steady as you bucked your hips against him, your panties soaking from the friction of his rough denim jeans. Your mouths clashed messily out of pent up desperation.

It didn’t go farther than dry humping, though.

Leon made sure your first time with him was more planned out, not wanting it to be in some confined space or rushed. You rode him until dawn, your knees meeting the soft blanket he laid down against the grass with each roll of your hips.

“Ah ah ah. Slow, sweetheart, slow.” He pleaded in a throaty voice, you were killing him, milking him over and over.

“Fuck…okay.” You slowed your pace, your breaths mingling when you rested your forehead against his.

“That’s it. Like that.”

And after that, there were more spontaneous times.

You wanted to get dicked down on your mattress so that’s what Leon gave you, if only your bed wasn’t so fucking squeaky. He had to put pillows behind your headboard.

“Shh…gotta be quiet f’me.” His hand covered your mouth, muting the moans that almost spilled from your mouth.

Leon wouldn’t live to see another day if his boss found his sweet granddaughter’s ankles hugging his neck and her toes all curled.

You ran your nails against his scalp, turning his hair into a mess, taking advantage of the fact he didn’t have a hat indoors. He bit down on his lip harshly to prevent himself from groaning aloud. Yeah, he had to climb out your window after that.

You almost got caught once inside one of the rundown abandoned stalls that was in need of some fixing. You were sitting betweens Leon’s spread legs, his hand down your pants. His palm gently smacked your clit with every push of his fingers inside your cunt. Open-mouthed kisses grazed your neck, making you loll your head to the side.

If only your granddaddy hadn’t interrupted.

“Son, ya in here?” Some incoherent grumbles before he got to the point, thankfully giving you some time to smack Leon’s hand away, snickering at the expression on his face — like he was about to be put six feet under. “Need yer help with the pipe I was tellin’ ya about earlier.”

“‘m on it.” Leon called out after pecking your lips, but there was a crack in his voice that left you silently giggling as he got up and wiped his fingers on his pants. He seemed so embarrassed, sparing you an apologetic glance and then tipping his hat down to hide his flustered expression from his boss.

But who knows, your grandparents adored Leon. One day he’d muster up the courage to tell them he was sweet on you, or maybe they’d catch the two of you holding hands under the dinner table.

Either way, you were no mere summer fling, and he let that be known by adorning your finger with a shiny promise ring.

[jaredpadonlyyyy]

𝘿𝙊𝙂𝙂𝙔 𝙎𝙏𝙔𝙇𝙀 𝙄𝙉 𝙃𝙊𝙏𝙏𝙐𝘽

• 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙔, 𝙉𝙊 𝙋𝙇𝙊𝙏

• 𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝘿𝙉𝙄 𝙄 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙇𝙊𝘾𝙆 𝙔𝙊𝙐

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎: 𝙐𝙉𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙏𝙀𝘾𝙏 𝙎𝙀𝙓 (𝘞𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴) 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙔 𝙏𝘼��𝙆, 𝙁𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙐𝙎𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙔/𝙉

𝙅𝙅. 𝙈𝘼𝙔𝘽𝘼𝙉𝙆 𝙭 𝙔/𝙉

It had been a few hours and you had gone inside the chateau, everyone else asleep inside and you saw JJ sitting outside in the hot tub he had gotten from the restitution money. You walked over and he looked up as he lets out smoke from the joint he was smoking. “Hey.” You greeted him softly as you took off your shorts and your shirt leaving you in your bikini and got inside sitting inside the warm water. “Sup.” JJ greeted you back. “Want some?” He asked you but you shook your head no. “I’m okay.” You said as he looked into your eyes. “Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask. Your heart hurt knowing that the bruises on his ribs were the cause of his father the piece of shit. You hated him so much for treating him that way. JJ’s jaw clenched as he looked at the water.

You moved closer to him. You reached over to his cheek making him look at him. “He’s a piece of shit, jayj.” You softly told him as he didn’t look into your eyes. You could see the sadness inside his beautiful ocean blue eyes. “I deserved the beating.” He said softly as you shook your head. “No you don’t, look at me JJ.” You told him but he couldn’t look at you as he was embarrassed. “Hey, hey, look at me.” You told him softly, and slowly his eyes found yours. You could tell how his ocean of blue eyes were watering and so full of sadness. You got even closer to the Maybank.

“You deserve to be loved, you have a good heart, JJ Maybank, you are nothing like your father. Nothing, do you understand me?” You Said softly but firmly. He just looked into your eyes, both not being able to look away. There’s always been an attraction between both of you, but not you or JJ had ever had it in the other to act on those feelings. You had loved JJ since you can remember. The first time you laid eyes on the beautiful blonde boy, it changed you for ever. He was your first friend, then it was John B and the three of you were an unstoppable force of trouble

He closed the space between the two of you and your lips touched. You didn’t push him away

The kiss started to slowly get heated, he wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you on to his lap as he slipped his tongue into your mouth making you softly moan. Both of his hands reached lower to your ass cheeks and grip them grinding you against his dick that’s getting hard. You slightly pulled away from the kiss breathing heavily. “Are you sure?” You asked him. The moment you both crossed the line. There was no going back. He smirked and leaned in to kiss you and then pulled back. “As sure as I’ll ever be in my life.” He told you making you smile and kissed him again. Reaching lower her moved your bikini to the side making you gasp against his lips as his fingers teased your entrance. “Fuck, JJ.” You groan.

With one push to his fingers, they entered inside your pussy walls. “Ah.” You moaned against his lips as your hands held onto both sides of his face. Both of you looking into each other’s eyes as he started to move them inside of you. You didn’t want to moan loud as you were both outside and the rest of your friends were inside sleeping and didn’t want to get caught. “You like that? Huh? You like getting fingered by me?” He softly whispered against your lips as you tried with everything inside of you not to moan loud.

His fingers touched your sweet spot over and over and you felt like you’re going to orgasm at any given moment. “JJ, I’m cumming, fuck.” You accidentally gasped loudly as he curled his fingers inside of you. “Aah!” Your legs wrapped around him started to shake as you grit your teeth trying to not moan to damn loud, but you couldn’t help it, it’s been a while.

JJ just watched you fall apart against his two fingers as your walls fluttered around them. He let you ride out your orgasm. He loved the way your hips started to roll against his hand as you started to moan softly against his ear making his dick twitch against his swim trunks. Finally you stop moving breathing hard as you laid your head on his shoulders with your eyes closed. He then slipped them out making you gasp.

“Turn around.” He whispered as you turned around as he lowered his swim trunks making his dick pop up. You backed up as he lined his cock in your hole and you slid down, your mouth dropping open as he filled you in. “Aah.” Your voice cracked as you let out a moan. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” JJ commented as his nails digs into the skin of your hips. After he filled you up. You stayed still breathing hard, your body was erupting in chills as you felt how long he was.

Putting your hands on his thighs, you slowly started going up and down. JJ helped you by holding your hips. “Fuck.” He cursed as he groaned feeling your walls clench around him. Since the water was making too much noise. He stood, him still inside of you and turned you around making you face the water as he adjusted his grip on your hips and started to thrust into you. “Oh, fuck, shit.” You moaned as you held onto the sides of the hot tub. Enjoying the sweet moans and grunts coming out of JJ’s mouth as he fucked you. “Faster, please.” You told the Maybank.

JJ started to pick up his pace making you gasp as he was hitting your sweet spot over and over again, you were trying to be quiet but it was becoming impossible as he felt so good inside of you, the way he was fucking your insides was driving you insane, that you started to shake as your second orgasm was making its way and fast. “Oh, JayJ!” You couldn’t help it and let out a whimper. Your walls clamps on his dick as you covered your mouth with your own hand letting out a loud moan as you orgasmed all over his cock. Your whole body shaking as he kept on thrusting trying to bring himself to his own high.

With that JJ pulled out quickly, turning you around and pumped his cock making you sit down as his whole body tensed. He lets out a grunt as his spilled his seed all over your chest. His head falling back in pure pleasure as his shots hit you. One last pump and he lifted his head to look down at you, his heart beating so fast. “Whew, that was. . .” JJ pulled up his shorts over his already softening dick and sat down on the other side of the hot tub looking at you with those beautiful ocean blue eyes you had fallen for.

You pulled your bikini bottom back to its place as you both sat in silence not knowing what to say.

You both crossed a line that was now uncrossable. But you don’t regret it one bit. You just wanted to know if he did regret crossing that line with you, one of his best friends. “It was a mistake, huh?” JJ asked before you could say anything. You stayed quiet for a moment before looking back at the guy. “Honestly, no.” You said as he looked at you. “Was it a mistake to you?” You asked him as he looked away from you.

“No.” He said looking back. You went over to him. Getting in between his legs as you softly placed your lips on his and he accepted them kissing you as well.

Hope you enjoy it! If you have any requests even if it’s not outer banks lmk!

[st4rpiece]

needing space after an argument pt. 2

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, sanji x reader summary: they earn your forgiveness CW: groveling, making up, fluff, and over 600 words each

pt. 1 | pt. 2

────────────────────₊˚.༄

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy wasn’t himself. It was the first thing everyone noticed after you left the ship. His laughter, usually loud and contagious, was quieter, forced. Mealtimes felt emptier, and the energy on the Sunny had shifted. He tried to act like nothing was wrong, but even the crew could see the shadow of regret lingering in his eyes.  

But now, here he was, standing in front of you in the quiet port town where you’d taken refuge after leaving the crew. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by a desperate determination.  

“I’m sorry,” he said for what must have been the tenth time. His voice was raw, almost breaking. “I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have told you to leave. I was stupid.”  

You stood with your arms crossed, your expression guarded. Seeing Luffy like this—so uncharacteristically vulnerable—caught you off guard, but the sting of his words still lingered, fresh and sharp.  

“Luffy, you can’t just say whatever you want when you’re mad and expect everything to go back to normal,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. “You told me to leave. So I did.”  

“I didn’t mean it,” he repeated, stepping closer but stopping just short of touching you. “I was mad and didn’t think. I... I need you on the ship. Not just because I want you there, but because you’re part of the crew. You’re important to us all and i shouldn’t have made you feel otherwise.”  

You searched his face, his big, earnest eyes pleading with you. You could see the regret there, the weight of his mistake hanging heavy on his shoulders. For a moment, your resolve wavered, but you quickly shook your head.  

“I can’t just come back because you say you’re sorry, Luffy. What happens the next time we fight? Are you going to tell me to leave again?”  

“No!” he blurted out, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I swear. I’ll never say anything like that again.”  

You frowned, unsure what to make of his declaration. “Luffy, words aren’t enough.”  

He nodded, his straw hat shadowing his eyes for a moment before he looked up at you with renewed determination. “Then I’ll show you. Whatever it takes.”  

True to his word, Luffy didn’t give up. He didn’t force you to return to the ship, but he didn’t leave the island either. Every day, he showed up—whether it was to bring you a freshly caught fish for dinner, fix something around the small inn you were staying at, or simply sit outside and wait in silence. He didn’t push, didn’t demand, but his presence was constant.  

When the ship needed supplies, he was the first to volunteer, taking on tasks he’d usually leave to someone else. The crew later told you how he’d started taking more responsibility, trying to step up as a better leader.  

Even when you didn’t speak to him, he never faltered. Every action, every small gesture, was his way of showing you how much he regretted his words.  

One evening, you found Luffy sitting on the dock, staring out at the ocean with his straw hat resting in his lap. He looked smaller somehow, as though the weight of his regret had worn him down.  

When he noticed you approaching, he stood up immediately, his expression shifting from surprise to cautious hope.  

“Why do you keep doing this?” you asked, crossing your arms.  

“Because I was wrong,” he said without hesitation. “Because I hurt you, and I have to make it right. Even if you never come back, I’ll keep trying. I don’t care how long it takes.”  

His sincerity stopped you in your tracks. He wasn’t making excuses, wasn’t brushing over your feelings like they didn’t matter. He had made changes—small ones, but noticeable—and for the first time, you truly believed he understood the gravity of what he’d done.  

You sighed, letting the silence linger before speaking. “Luffy... I’ll come back.”  

His eyes lit up with hope, his lips parting as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.  

“But,” you continued, holding up a finger, “this only works if things stay different. I’m not going back just to deal with the same problems again. I need to know you’re taking this seriously.”  

“I swear!” he said immediately, his voice brimming with determination. “I swear that things will be different. A good different. No more reckless fights for selfish reasons or saying things I don’t mean, I promise.”  

You studied him for a long moment, the sincerity and determination in his eyes unmistakable. Finally, you allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips. “Alright, Lu.”  

Relief washed over his face as he heard the familiar nickname, and for the first time in weeks, you saw his grin return, bright and full of life.  

"I missed you so much, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and certainty, as he wrapped his arms around you.

The comforting warmth of his embrace, felt like home—safe, secure, and exactly where you wanted to be.

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro wasn’t one to grovel. Stubborn and prideful as he was, apologies didn’t come easy for him. But as he sat alone on the Sunny’s deck, replaying his words from the fight, regret gnawed at him like a dull blade.  

The memory of your face—shocked, hurt, and then resigned—kept flashing in his mind. He hadn’t just lashed out; he’d cut deep. You were trying to help, and he’d thrown it back at you, calling you controlling and annoying when you didn’t deserve it.  

He groaned, pressing his palms against his face. He hated how small he felt for failing to show up to the dates you’d so carefully planned, how your suggestion—simple and kind—had poked at an insecurity he didn’t want to face. And now, because of his pride, he’d pushed you away.  

For days, you’d been distant, giving him space, but that only made the guilt worse. He needed to fix this.  

You were sitting on a quiet hillside overlooking the ocean when Zoro found you. The breeze tugged at your clothes, and you looked peaceful—too peaceful, considering how much turmoil you’d left him in.  

“Hey,” he called softly, his voice unusually hesitant.  

You glanced at him, surprised to see the normally stoic swordsman looking... sheepish. He stood awkwardly a few feet away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.  

“What is it, Zoro?” you asked, your tone calm but distant.  

He swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides before he took a step closer. “I wanted to apologize.”  

That caught your attention. Your brows lifted in mild surprise, but you said nothing, waiting for him to continue.  

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he said, his voice low and gruff, but steady. “You weren’t being controlling or annoying. You were just... trying to help.” He exhaled heavily as if forcing the words out of himself. “And I was an idiot.”  

You blinked, his sincerity throwing you off guard. “Zoro—”  

“Let me finish, please,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. There was something raw in his gaze—an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I’ve been thinking about it, and... I hate that I’m always late. I hate knowing you’re waiting for me while I’m stuck wandering around like an idiot who can’t follow a simple route. It’s embarrassing.”  

Your expression softened, but you stayed quiet, letting him speak.  

“When you suggested we go together, I know it wasn’t because you thought I was useless,” he continued, his voice tightening. “But that’s how it made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough to get it right on my own. And instead of dealing with that, I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”  

He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “But I don’t think you’re controlling or annoying. You’re the most patient and understanding person for putting up with me. So you deserve better and I want to be that.”  

The sincerity in his voice was almost overwhelming, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t just saying the words—he meant them.  

“I know I can’t just say sorry and expect everything to go back to normal,” he added, glancing away briefly before meeting your gaze again. “So, please baby just… give me a chance to make it right.”  

Your lips parted in surprise. Zoro wasn’t the type to take the initiative when it came to things like this, but the determination in his eyes was unmistakable.  

After a long pause, you let out a soft sigh, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “One last chance.”  

He nodded, relief flashing across his face, but there was also a quiet resolve in his expression. This wasn’t just a promise—it was a vow.  

The next time you guys went on a date, Zoro was ready. He showed up early, finally getting the chance to wait on you. He led you to a quiet clearing overlooking the sea, a picnic already set up with food he’d personally asked Sanji to help him prepare.  

The effort was clear in every little detail, from the way he chose the spot (easily accessible, no chance to get lost) to the careful decorations and crafts you mentioned liking/wanting to try. Showing that despite his stoic nature, he was listening to you during previous dates. Even now as you spoke, he would chime in at just the right moments.  

It wasn’t perfect—he stumbled over a few of his words and complained when a seagull tried to swipe the food—but it was Zoro, trying in his own way. And that meant everything.  

By the time the date ended, you leaned back on the blanket, gazing up at the stars, feeling closer to him than ever before. When he reached for your hand, you let him, squeezing it gently.  

Zoro glanced down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His gaze softened, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “I know you agreed to give me another chance, but I need to know if you’re still interested in giving me that chance.”

Your heart softened at the rare vulnerability in his voice. You turned to meet his eyes, and they were steady, full of quiet determination.  

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and you leaned into him as the waves crashed gently in the distance. For a man of few words, Zoro was surprisingly good at them.

“Well,” you began, tilting your head with a teasing glint in your eye, “that depends. Are you going to keep being so dramatic about it?” You bit back a laugh as you watched the tips of his ears turn red, his expression shifting into a familiar scowl.

“Tch, not being dramatic,” he grumbled, looking away, but the redness in his ears betrayed him.

You chuckled softly and squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “I was being serious about giving you that second chance,” you said warmly. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and the tension in his jaw eased.

“But,” you continued, your tone more firm, “next time something like this happens, promise that you’ll communicate it properly. Okay? No more bottling things up.”

Zoro stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding once. “You have my word.” His voice was low but steady, carrying the weight of his promise.

“Good.” You smiled, squeezing his hand again as a soft breeze brushed past, carrying with it the sound of the waves.

God Usopp

The day had been quiet, almost too quiet, and the silence weighed heavy between you and Usopp. Since your argument, things haven’t been the same. You still spoke, but the words felt hollow, and the laughter you once shared now seemed distant and forced. He noticed it all—the way your smile never quite reached your eyes, the strain in your voice when you tried to act like nothing was wrong.  

And it tore him apart.  

Usopp sat on the deck after dinner, absentmindedly fiddling with a half-finished invention. His fingers moved on instinct, but his thoughts were stuck on your last conversation. He hated himself for the way he’d lashed out, for the way he’d let his insecurities push you away.  

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sea in shades of orange and pink, he made up his mind. He couldn’t let this fester any longer.  

When you stepped onto the deck for some air, Usopp hesitated, watching you from a distance. Finally, he stood, his hands clenching at his sides as he approached you.  

“Hey,” he called softly.  

You turned, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey.” Your voice was casual, but your guarded expression told him you were bracing for something.  

“Can we talk?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious.  

You nodded, following him to a quieter spot on the ship where the others couldn’t overhear. The soft sound of the waves filled the silence as Usopp struggled to find the right words.  

“I’ve been... thinking,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “About what I said. About the fight.” He looked down, unable to meet your gaze. Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, giving him the space to explain.

“I know you don’t see me as weak,” he continued, his voice growing tight. “But hearing you scream for him... it made me feel useless.” He exhaled sharply, his hand tightening around the railing. “And I hate feeling like that. I know I’m not like Luffy, Zoro, or Sanji. I’m not the guy who can punch through walls or take down ten enemies at once, but... I at least want to be someone you can count on. Someone you can feel protected with.”

He paused, his words faltering slightly. “But instead of talking to you about it, I projected my insecurities onto you, and made it seem like you were wrong for asking our friends for help. For that, I’m sorry.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and guilt pooled in your chest. “Baby...” you started, your voice soft. “I’m sorry, too. I never meant to make you feel that way.” You stepped closer, resting a hand on his arm. “But you are someone I can count on. Someone who’s saved my ass more times than I can count. Your strength may not look like theirs, but it’s just as important.”

He finally looked at you, his eyes wide, searching for any trace of doubt. “You... you really mean that?”

“Heck yeah, I do,” you said without hesitation. “I trust you, Usopp. I always have.”

A small, hesitant smile tugged at his lips, and he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. “Thanks... I needed to hear that," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

After a moment, he straightened and rubbed the back of his head, suddenly looking sheepish. “Actually, uh, there’s something I’ve been working on. For you. I wanted to make something that could help you in a fight.”  

Your brows lifted in surprise. “Really? What is it?”  

Grinning now, Usopp reached into his bag and pulled out a small, compact gadget. “It’s not finished yet, but it’s kind of like a smoke bomb, but better. It creates a flash of light to blind enemies and a smoke screen to cover your escape. I thought... you know, it might come in handy.”  

You took the gadget from him, turning it over in your hands. “Usopp, this is amazing.”  

“Yeah, well,” he said, scratching his cheek, his grin turning bashful. “I wanted to make sure you had another thing to keep you safe. In case no one else is around.”  

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “Thank you, Usopp. I mean it.”  

He relaxed then, the tension between you finally melting away. “I’ll finish it soon,” he promised, his confidence returning. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll come up with even more stuff for you with full bragging rights.”  

"Thanks, now I can let everyone know just how my amazing boyfriend is," you laughed—genuinely this time—and Usopp’s chest swelled with pride. He knew he still had work to do, but for now, the weight of your fight had lifted, and the bond between you felt stronger than ever.  

Vinesmoke Sanji

Sanji stood alone on the deck, the moonlight casting a silver glow over his slumped figure. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette burning low between his fingers, though he hadn’t taken a drag in minutes. His mind replayed every moment of your relationship—the laughter, the stolen glances, the warmth of your touch. And then, inevitably, it would circle back to the breakup.  

He’d failed you. The person who mattered more to him than anyone else in the world. His actions—so thoughtless, so wrapped in habit—had made you feel second to strangers. The realization haunted him, clawing at his chest.  

Sanji thought of groveling, of falling to his knees and begging you to take him back, but he knew you too well. That would only push you further away. You were someone who needed actions, not words, and he knew his words had already failed you. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to give up. You were his person, his muse, his everything. How could he possibly accept a life without you in it?  

So he did the only thing he could. He began to show you through his actions.  

The change was immediate. The next time the ship docked at an island, Sanji didn’t so much as glance at the women who usually flocked to him. When they batted their lashes and called out for his attention, he brushed them off politely and kept his focus on his task. His compliments, once scattered freely to strangers, were now reserved only for you. Even when you ignored him, his words never wavered—soft, sincere, and meant only for you.  

In battle, Sanji was more relentless than ever. But his priority was always your safety, stepping in before danger could reach you, even if it meant taking a hit himself. When the crew sat down for meals, he made sure your favorite dishes were prepared just the way you liked them, his eyes flicking to your face to see if you’d noticed.  

And when he thought you weren’t looking, he’d linger nearby, silently watching you. There was a sadness in his gaze as he admired the person he’d once had the privilege of holding close. You saw him sometimes, hovering at a distance, and though you tried to ignore it, part of you couldn’t deny the pang in your chest. You still had feelings for him—of course you did. But you couldn’t settle for someone who had once made you doubt your place in their life.  

Weeks passed, and Sanji’s quiet devotion didn’t falter. Even now as he stood near the railing, waiting for you, his hands slightly trembling. He had spent all day preparing for this moment, and now the weight of his plan felt heavier than ever.  

When you finally stepped out onto the deck, he straightened immediately, smoothing his suit jacket with nervous fingers. "Hey," he called softly, his voice careful, like he was afraid of scaring you off.  

"Hey," you replied, your tone hesitant but curious. He’d been walking on eggshells around you for weeks, and now this—an invitation for "something special" without much detail. Against your better judgment, you’d said yes, curiosity getting the better of you.  

He smiled faintly, stepping toward you. "I, uh, thought we could spend the evening together. Just... talk."  

You raised a brow. "Talk?"  

He nodded, motioning for you to follow him. "Come on. I’ve got something to show you."  

Despite the uncertainty in your chest, you followed him across the deck, and your eyes widened when he led you to a corner of the ship bathed in soft, golden light from lanterns he had strung up. A blanket was spread out neatly on the deck, adorned with a small basket, plates of your favorite snacks, and a bottle of your favorite drink.  

"Sanji..." you murmured, taken aback.  

"I know it’s not much," he said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "But I wanted to do something for you. Something simple. Something that doesn’t involve me screwing it up."  

You blinked, your hesitation softening slightly at his earnestness. "You didn’t have to go through all this trouble."  

"I did," he countered, his voice firm but warm. "I needed to."  

He gestured for you to sit, and after a moment’s pause, you did, settling down on the blanket. Sanji sat across from you, his hands fidgeting in his lap.  

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the ship filling the space between you. Finally, Sanji took a deep breath and looked at you, his expression more serious than you’d seen in a long time.  

"My love," he began, "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since... since we broke up. And I just... I need you to know how sorry I am."  

You looked away, unsure how to respond, but he continued.  

"I wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved," he admitted, his voice low. "I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, and that’s unforgivable. You should’ve never felt like anything less than the most important person in my life. That’s on me."  

His gaze was unwavering as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but feel the sincerity in his words.  

"I still have feelings for you," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I never stopped. And I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, or even to trust me again right away. But I need you to know that I’ve changed. I’m changing. And I’ll do anything to prove it to you."  

You stared at him, his words hitting you harder than you expected. Sanji was always smooth with his words, but this was different. There was no charm, no performative flair—just raw honesty.  

"Sanji..." you started, your voice faltering. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edge of the blanket. "I... I still have feelings for you too. But..."  

"But you don’t trust me," he finished for you, his tone understanding rather than hurt.  

You nodded. "It’s not that I don’t want to. I just... I’m scared of getting hurt again."  

He reached across the blanket, his hand stopping just short of yours. "I understand," he said softly. "And I don’t blame you. I don’t want you to rush into anything you’re not ready for. If we have to take things slow, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll show you, not just with words but with actions, that you’re the only one in my heart."  

His hand lingered near yours, and after a moment, you tentatively placed your hand over his. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you looked up to meet his gaze.  

"Okay," you said quietly. "We can try. But slow, Sanji. No rushing, no grand gestures to win me over. Just... be honest with me."  

A smile broke across his face, softer and more genuine than any you’d seen in weeks. "Slow it is," he promised.  

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between you eased. You still had a long way to go, but as you sat there, sharing a quiet meal under the lantern light, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things could work out.  

───────────────────₊˚.༄

One Piece Masterlist

hey…I was supposed to post this yesterday but I ended up working a double 😭.

[this is lightly edited]

anyways I saw a couple people asking about a tag list ngl i don’t know shit about that 😭😭 but hopefully this finds you !!

and for the op women/queer smau I will be posting that soon as well but I got a really cute idea from anon yesterday and I want to start on that first.

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: What Will Your FS Admire Most About You?

⚤ “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” - Pablo Neruda

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, disregard any pronouns that do not apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✠ Pile One ✠ (King of Cups,Page of Cups,The World,7)

✧ Cards went wiillldddd. You stir up so much emotion in this person, it’s crazy. Your heart chakra is front and center here. You are picture-perfect harmony and universal love to your spouse. Your love can’t be contained, you love them, your friends, your favorite mug, worms out in the rain, strangers, the moon, and all the stars in the sky.

✧ All I see is a wide-ass smile, the biggest, wateriest eyes, and full cheeks. Your spouse thinks you’re sunshine-incarnated.

✧ This will sound corny, but your heart and love for the world and all its diversity make you appear angelic; God’s gift to humanity. The emotional depth you have is nothing shy of divine. Your ability to understand and reconnect your person with their inner dreamer makes you irreplaceable in their eyes. 

✧ I feel like your future spouse had to navigate around a lot of emotionally stunted people who left scars that prevented them from forming healthy relationships. Your empathy and desire to make space for peace and unity in this world give them hope that true love is alive and they are the lucky son of a bitch who gets to call an angel, theirs.

✧ I smell salt and hear waves. (I bet you’re tired of the cheesy poetry but HEY, me and your boo are OBSESSED with your energy) You truly are as beautiful and powerful as the seven seas.

✧ You know the Ouroboros, and how it's sometimes depicted as a snake wrapped around the oceans, holding onto its tail to keep the world together? Yea, that. To your future partner, you hold the key to their world. You add so much color and vibrancy. You turn over their inner ocean and awaken so much repressed child-like wonder within them.

✧ Wow. Your spouse loves the depths of you.

✧ Check for water placements, signs, and houses, in your natal chart. Some of you have insane intuition and have clairsenses. Clairaudience to be specific.

✧ Some of you are active in charities or aspire to make a difference in society. Maybe you’re into esoteric practices or anything else metaphysical.

✧ I even have a few philosophers here. Okay, KANT! (somebody please get this joke)

She Excites the Seven Seas

✠ Pile Two ✠ (Ace of Pentacles,8oW,The Emperor rev., “I Want”)

I love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me

✧ Of course, you don’t have to be a woman but that TikTok sound SCREAMED at me. Your future spouse is lowkey intimidated by you and they love it.

✧ You have big dreams. Big plans. But most importantly, a million and one ways to get you where you need to be. Your ability to say “I want this,” and then actually go out and GET it?? Your spouse is like the meme that goes “I’m a little scared, but I’m turned on.”

✧ I also see that you’re unconventional. If people have been doing whatever you want to do a certain way for years, you'll find ways to do it differently, just cause. You’re a true trailblazer. Your self-conviction is so damn alluring. Even for the people who struggle with insecurity sometimes, once you get over that hump and decide that you desire something, you fucking get it. Your partner sees you like magic. They are impressed by just how quickly your desires are set in motion for you. They feel that you are powerful and bring a great deal of power to them from just being in your proximity.

✧ You are also the “I don’t take shit from nobody” type. Not from strangers, not from your friends, your family, not even from your partner. In their eyes, you know your worth and have a strong self-foundation that nobody can tear down. There is genuine admiration and respect here. I even get the “I want to be like you when I grow up” mentality.

✧ There is a speediness to you they find very attractive. Either the way you behave, speak, or just stress about time, your pacing holds a special place in their heart. (or maybe, despite all of your responsibilities, you manage to find stillness in the chaos and slow down when necessary)

✧ The way you speak drives this person wild. It's like your voice narrates their thoughts and is the source of all of their arousal. Do with that information what you will...(don't be cruel, you make this person so nervous).

✧ I shuffled through a playlist and E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE!! by Corpse came on and one of the lyrics goes,

She just look into my soul with them Shinigami eye Coke in my nose and a blade on her thigh. Man, I think this girl is really trying to plan my demise

✧ Yea, you put the fear of God into this person, but in a good way! Your presence can be chilling sometimes. Fire energy for sure. There are definitely people here from pile 2 of my first pac, “What are your most alluring qualities?”, check that out if you want to.

✧ Okay, this energy has me needing to take a LAP, bye.

"Man, I Think This Girl Tryna Plan My Demise"

✠ Pile Three ✠ (10oW, 9oW)(no other cards wanted to come out, real stubborn)

✧ Okay so, this feels specific?... and maybe even a lil off topic but I feel called to say this

✧ I sense that you and your person are psychically connected and share the mutual feeling that the two of you are meant to cross paths. The both of you have gotten your fair share of fuckery in this lifetime and this union feels like divine justice.

✧ This sounds a little fucked up, but you guys flourish amid trauma. Dark energy alchmaziers. You best wield your potential while you’re going THROUGH it.

✧ You had to “die” and bury yourself a dozen times to get where you are today.

✧ You are a very evolved individual. Throughout your life, traumatic events and relationships have forced you to bear a lot of weight on your back and it’s like the pressure has forged you into a diamond. With each curveball life threw at you, you stood tall and pushed to make something of yourself, proving your worth after a lifetime of strife and instability.

✧ Scorpio/Capricorn and 8th house/10th house placements. (check midpoints).

✧ A lot of you have tense shoulders, upper back, shoulder, and neck pain from the unease and anxiety your body carries. You have insomnia and may even struggle with nightmares.

✧ This person you’re coming into union with is so healing.

✧ This is something the both of you broke down and prayed for on your darkest days. This is a true partner, the soul that kept yours warm when the world was so cold. You had to put your dreamier side on the back burner to survive. This person will make you feel safe to dream again.

✧ I don’t have anything specific to say because you and your person feel so secretive  You two recognize each other’s pain and are the only people you guys trust. Like not even lil ol’ me can really get through to y'all. Y’all ride AND die for each other, in this life and the next.

✧ If you’re into astrology and already have a feel for who this person is, check your guys’ composite chart. Strong Scorpio energy here.

✧ Coming into union with this person will feel like a wish fulfillment.

✧ (short pile, it felt like a quick message for those of you who feel this connection telepathically. This is probably a secondary choice.)

"I Want To Caress The Piece of Me Within You"

✠ Pile Four ✠ (Queen of Wands, 9oP rev., 7oP, 4oP rev., the high priestess, queen of cups, “I will”)

✧ You’re a bad bitch, truly. Your fs isn’t calling you a bitch, buuuttttt she a baddie, she know she a ten! She a baddie with her baddie…. wait a minute…

✧ You may not have a lot of friends? You keep your circle tight-knit because you have been deeply hurt in the past and you guard your peace fiercely. For some of you, your home life was quite tumultuous and you struggle with financial security and inner happiness. It seemed like the world did not want you to feel good about yourself or succeed.

✧ Do you know that viral display of a deer’s ribcage with a spear through it, and how even though an attempt was made on the deer’s life, he managed to survive and lived for years after that event; all while still growing bone marrow with a giant fucking spear through its ribcage?

✧ “A close encounter with a hunter left the deer with several broken ribs and part of an arrow embedded in its body. Remarkably, the animal survived, and bone grew around the shaft and arrowhead lodged in the creature's side."

✧ "The deer lived with the arrow inside its body until years later, when another hunter killed the animal, cut the deer open, and discovered its amazing secret…As the tough tissue formed over the arrow, it acted as a splint for the damaged rib cage, strengthening the deer's injured body.”

✧ I highlighted some words that needed emphasizing. That’s how your partner sees you. They are in complete awe of the resilience and sheer tenacity you hold. They look at you and can’t believe the person before their eyes. The troubling history you usually try to hide from your romantic partners is exactly what allures this person. 

✧ You won’t ever lay on your belly and cry about life passing you by. You aren’t the type to victimize yourself and “woe is me” your way out of self-improvement.

✧ You are quite ambitious and aim to push forward, even if the odds are stacked against you.

✧ I get the message that some people in this pile have struggled with self-harm over the years. Your partner wants to kneel down and kiss your scars like a white knight, and vow to protect you emotionally and physically for as long as you’ll have them.

✧ The spear-deer imagery is so interesting. The deer represents virality. It is a symbol of piety, gentleness, devotion, and fertility. Especially with the queen of wands, the high priestess, AND the queen of cups, you provide profound love, passion, and insight to this person. However, even as a deer, you are quite badass???

✧ You are as gentle as a strand of hair but as strong as wool. Dainty but unbreakable.

✧ They have no desire to infantilize you because they know you are already your own greatest warrior. But they don’t want you to feel that you have to fight alone. Whatever burdens are on your plate, they take away as much as possible because they want to be a piece of the paradise you fight for.

✧ This is meant to be a short pac, a Tumblr post won’t do the unbelievable strength in your character much justice. Just know that your fs is so fucking in love with you and wants to spend their life by your side because of just how awe-struck they are by you.

✧ I mean c’mon… will YOU ever forget the story of the coolest fucking deer in existence??

"I Yearn To Be the Name You Call Out in Victory"

[ninikrumbs]

move in with me

satoru gojo x reader. fluff. independent reader. domestic satoru

You’ve always prided yourself for being strong and independent. Solving your own problems, dusting your own shelves, and you knew when everyone else lets you down, that you could always count on yourself. So when you started dating Satoru Gojo, it threw you off kilter.

To say that it was an adjustment would be an understatement. He treated you like a princess, not wanting you to lift a single finger. He would tie your shoe laces, open doors, cook for you, carry your grocery bags, and with one single grimace from your face- due to you unfortunately wearing heels to dinner- he’d carry you on one arm with your strappy heels on the other.

In the beginning you’d frequently voice out to him that it was unnecessary, that you could do all of those things yourself. But he would just shrug before saying, “I know you can, but that doesn’t mean you have to.”and when you wouldn’t budge, he’d add, “ Doing things for you, you relying on me makes me happy. And you want me to be happy,right?”

And what were you suppose to answer to that kind of blackmail? So eventually, you mellowed out. You slowly got used to relying on him and it was nice finally able to turn off you brain for once and just let him take the lead.

Going out for dinner? He’d say just wear something nice and he’ll pick you up at 7:00. Vacation? He’s got all the tourist spots all mapped out and you don’t even know what airlines your taking, only that the he has everything covered. Birthday? He’ll plan a full on surprise at the stroke of midnight with balloons, cake, a ridiculously huge bouquet of your favorite flowers, and that pair of cute earrings you’ve been eyeing for weeks now. All this simply because, “You deserve nothing but the best out of everything, princess.”

But time and time again you’d prove that old habits die hard.

Gojo watched amused as you paced around the living room of his spacious and modern apartment, trying to find a solution to your current predicament. You just got off from a call from your landlord telling you that he just doubled your rent due to market prices rising and other things you didn’t care about. All you knew is that it was too much for you to afford and your brain immediately went into problem solving mode.

“I could find a smaller apartment, but its dead in the winter. There’s barely any good apartments available this time of year.”

“Or I could move in with Shoko! Yes! She always wanted me to so it would take a load off her rent and this way I could finally help her stop smoking-”

Satoru pulled you by the hand to his lap on the sofa making you yelp in surprise. “Baby, slow down.” He snaked his arms around your waist as you made yourself comfortable on his lap. You huffed, “But Toru, Im basically homeless next month.”

He shook his head and pinched your nose making your face scrunch. “You’re not gonna be homeless, your forgetting that you have me.”

“If you’re gonna tell me that you have an extra apartment on hand, I won’t know how to answer that.”

He guffawed a laugh, the type that made your stomach flip that it was hard to not smile at him. “Baby, no- haha- no,” He pulled you closer to his chest and his thumbs made soothing motions on your side. “I’m telling you- no asking you to move in with me.”

“What?” You leaned back in surprise.

His hand gently cupped your cheek, making you lean in to his touch. “Move in with me, princess. I’ve got the space. You’re already here most of the time and I was already planning on asking you to move in with me anyways so this spans out perfectly.”

His ocean eyes held nothing but warmth and sincerity, yet you still looked at him skeptically, “Are you sure? I don’t want you too feel pressured into asking me, Toru”

“Baby, are you forgetting all the times I practically latched on to your legs to stop you from leaving?”The memory of him trying to bribe you into staying made you snort making him grin. “See? I want you around 24/7.”

“I don’t know, Toru.” You were coming around, but Satoru could still see a little doubt in your eyes. He pressed a kiss on your cheek, “I want to see your clothes besides mine,” a kiss to your other cheek, “Your ridiculous amount of skincare in the bathroom,” A kiss on your forehead, “I want the house to smell like those scented candles that you love so much,” a kiss on your nose, “I want to leave home with a kiss from you,” and finally a kiss on your lips, so soft and sweet as if trying to pour everything else he couldn’t say into the kiss. “And I wanna come home to you sound asleep on our bed if I get home late.”

Your face burned with warmth from his kisses and small confessions,”Okay..” He raised an eyebrow, “Okay, Ill move in with you.” You said with more enthusiasm.

With a satisfied smile, he pulls you into his warm chest, placing his head on top of yours, “Please rely on me more. Promise to rely on me more?”

You pull away a bit to look him in the eyes, “I promise, Toru.”

He leans his head down closer to yours, with a playful glint in his eyes,”You promise what? Use your words, princess.”

“I promise to rely on you.”

“Good girl.” He mumbles against your lips before capturing it in his, his hands move to cup your face as he deepened the kiss. His tongue danced with yours as a hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, as if trying to eliminate any space between you. Your chest pressed into his, making you moan into his mouth. He pull away with a lustful groan, a delicate strand of saliva connecting your lips before he licked it away. He dazedly nudged your nose with his, “Yeah, I’m really gonna love having you around, princess.”

I accept requests ^^

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. pretty brown eyes.

about. gojo might be the one with the six eyes, but there’s nothing special about those. your brown eyes are real weapon, here.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, hurt comfort. slight hints to insomnia, idk how infinity works sorry, reader has brown eyes, afab!reader.

“you could kill me if you wanted to.”

it’s the dead of night when he whispers your name. though low in volume, his tongue curls around each syllable loud enough for you to hear him. “

“‘toru, what are you on about—” digging the heal of your palm into your eyes, you dislodge the crust from your lash line and groan. the red lines on your digital clock read sometime between three and four am— but the digits blur as your mind swims with sleep.

“your eyes. they’re so perfect.” a loving grin etches itself onto his face when you crack one open to look at him, masking over the exhaustion seeping from his pores and the anxiety that spikes in the sapphire pools of his own eyes. “you should be able to get away with anything because of them.”

“baby,” you reiterate and roll over to face him fully. gojo gets like this when he’s overworked and worried, when there’s something big on his mind you’re not quite sure you’d understand. you move to jab a thumb into his forehead, right between his brows to alleviate the ache in his skull but you don’t let your disappointment show when rough skin meets the dull buzz of his infinity.

you forget that his six eyes flow in the dark — that his blue eyes are not as blue as they seem. “you’re talking nonsense, it’s late. get some sleep.”

“my eyes. they could kill me if i worked too hard.”

satoru’s eyes are a lot stormier than most would expect, they can be dark and cold. like an angry ocean tired of tournament. they can be bright, full of hope and loving — you notice that change whenever he’s with your students. they hide behind the frame of his ability, the one that hardly ever turns off despite how it really could kill him.

his mind is always running, his body almost always on empty.

in the moonlight, you see a faint sliver of silver between the flecks of diamond and stormy skies.

he swipes a gentle thumb just over cheek yours to catch a fallen lash. “but yours,” gojo continues, voice thoughtful and low. tired above all else. “those pretty brown eyes…baby, they’re dangerous in a different way. beautiful in another that makes me feel safe. puts my mind at ease or somethin’. one look ‘nd I’d be doing anything for you,”

there the two of you are, face to face in the dark — cheeks pressed to pillows and heads under the covers as if you’re children shielding yourself from the world. creating the safe space to let satoru confess.

“if those pretty brown eyes were the last thing i got to see before i died. then i think i’d be okay.”

“don’t say that.” your face crumples and his infinity falls away as if gojo had been anticipating your touch, the buzz just shocking through your skin as you wrap your arms around his larger frame, pull his head down to your heart beating in your chest. “you’re not allowed to die, satoru. not yet.”

“i know.” for once he’s grateful he can’t see your eyes — he hates the way they shine when you cry.

“i need you.”

“i know.” he’s quiet. “i need you too.”

“then rest, you don’t have to keep watch.” gojo feels the shake in your lungs as you speak. you worry too much about him. but with your hand cascading through his soft locks, and the other squeezing him close he’s finding it hard to resist.

usually when he lays next to you, he’s stiff as a board, always anticipating whatever danger might come next. but the biggest threat to him of all is you, and those big brown bambi eyes of yours — the way they’re wet with love, shiny with tears because you adore satoru gojo. you care about him way too much for your own good.

those eyes of yours are convincingly treacherous , he can’t help but let his body sag and let go of his cursed technique while you rub his back and soothe him.

“you’re dangerous, yanno,” satoru grunts, lips dragging along your skin with every word. “especially when you look at me like that, with those puppy dog eyes…can’t say no to you.”

but you smile as he drifts off, his tall frame heavy against you — your lashes blinking soft against his forehead as you curl around him protectively. “i’d rather use them to get you to rest, rather than kill you. ‘toru.”

your words are wasted on deaf ears — his deep snore indicating that gojo is finally asleep, doing himself a favour and locking his pretty blue eyes away.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[luveline]

WOULD LOOOVE to see badass reader get jealous over someone flirting with spencer

ty for requesting ♡ —spencer reassures you when he catches the eye of a receptionist at the ocean city precinct. fem!reader, 1.3k

Hotch lives on coffee lately. Any type from any source, he doesn't care what it tastes like so long as it keeps him awake. You're similar, in that even if you hated it, you'd keep it to yourself. 

But you're frowning in disgust at your cup. Eyebrows wrinkled, lips in a fierce line. Hotch sighs and puts his hand on the back of your chair. "Are you alright?" he asks. 

You've never told him otherwise. "Fine. Thank you." 

"There's water in my bag," he offers. You won't meet his eyes. You probably have a headache. "And aspirin." 

For as long as he's known you and worked with you, you've been as you are now, quiet, stern, with little sense of humour at work and not much more outside of it. The only evidence of your soft heart is how you work like a dog, and how you treat your coworker, Spencer. He's your achilles heel, your tender spot in all the tough scarring. Hotch knows there's nothing anyone can do to make you feel better if they aren't him. 

Hotch turns on the spot to look for him. The case you're working on here in Maryland has hit a lul, and exhausted faces peek out from behind their desks at Hotch's looking. He searches for the short mop of brown hair that's required and finds it in an unusual place. 

Spencer has been waylaid by a receptionist. Glimmering eyes, shiny silver fingernails that tap the desk in front of her as she speaks, the receptionist clearly has Spencer hanging on. He takes a step back and she doubles down, her storytelling audible from across the room. 

"You'll have to see it for yourself, Dr. Reid, it's a sight!" 

Hotch looks at you from the corner of his eye. "I see." 

"Don't know what you're talking about," you mutter. You stand and tip your coffee into the bin, letting the cup fall in after it morosely. 

"Why don't you go and help Reid?" Hotch asks. 

"Help Reid what?" you ask. Your tone betrays you —jealousy, sure, that slight crisp to your words that must hurt on the way out, but worse is the weakness as your sentence ends. You're jealous, and it's upsetting you. "I don't think I want to help him with that." 

Derek swings into the sequestered space you've been using to operate and beams at you like he knows exactly what you're thinking. 

"Isn't it surprising how quiet he can be? Years of catching bad guys and he can't say no to a pretty woman," Derek says, giving you a knowing look.

You and Derek have a half-hearted rivalry in that he loves to flirt and you disapprove. Your soft spot extends solely to Spencer no matter how hard Derek tries to sway you, though as you and Spencer have gotten closer, you've softened.

Hotch thinks that Derek's teasing might erase any progress that's been made. 

"Morgan," he says reproachfully. 

Derek makes a who, me? face but quickly gives in. "Why don't you go save him?" he asks you. 

"He doesn't need saving. Spencer is a grown man who can make his own choices," you say quietly. 

Hotch bites his tongue. Thankfully, Derek speaks up, without any teasing. "Spencer's been expected to  know how to do things without any help since he was a kid. I really think he just doesn't know how to walk away." 

You look down at your hands. Hotch has been doing his job for a long time, and he can guess what you're thinking from a misaligned finger. You don't feel like you measure up to the woman at reception. You're insecure about Spencer's affection for you, because you can't understand why he likes you so much to begin with. Hotch has thought it about Haley, Derek of Savannah. It's a very human doubt.

"Spencer tends to stand straight," Hotch says, bringing the lip of his paper cup up. "Right now, he's leaning away." 

It's in as simple terms as he can put it without outright telling you that he really, truly believes that Spencer wouldn't bother with anyone who isn't you. That Spencer loves you in the young, all encompassing way, even though neither of you seems to have realised the depth of it yet. 

Confident, no air of the girl frowning down at her hands, you leave the nook to approach Spencer from behind. 

"Hi," Hotch hears you say, "you okay?" 

Spencer visibly relaxes. "Hey, I'm fine. Uh, Y/N, this is Anabelle. Annabelle, this is my partner, Y/N." 

"Partner?" Derek asks. 

It's news to Hotch. Perhaps news to you, if the way you take his hand is any hint. It's like you've never held it before, and Hotch knows you have, he's seen you linking pinkies under tables. 

You strangle his fingers with yours. Spencer doesn't move an inch.

"She was just telling me about the sightseeing you can do here. Have you ever seen the world's longest worm on a string?" he asks you. 

"Hi, Annabelle," you say, turning to Spencer with poorly masked whiplash. "We're gonna try narrowing the search radius." 

"Oh, right." Spencer lets go of your hand in favour of putting a hand behind your shoulder, saying his thank yous and goodbyes to Annabelle before guiding you back to the makeshift BAU base camp. "What took you so long?" 

"What took me so long?" you ask.

"I thought you liked me!" Spencer says, teasing, his voice pitching higher. "I didn't know how to tell her I've already read the pamphlet she was quoting. She seemed nice though, right?" 

"She seemed nice, Spence," you agree, a little wobbly still but a thousand times less sullen than before. "I– of course I like you, you know I like you. Right?" 

Hotch is proud of Spencer for how remarkably he responds. Spencer puts his body between you and Hotch and Derek where they're standing to offer you the privacy you prefer, dropping his voice to match your tentativeness. "Yeah, I know. I was kidding. I think they'd have to reassess my position on this team if I didn't know that." He grabs your arm, thumb pressing into the crook of your elbow. "Are you okay?"

"I thought maybe she was flirting with you." 

Spencer shrugs uneasily. "Maybe. It wouldn't make a difference to me. Do you know that?" 

Your head dips down. Hotch can't hear what you say, honestly, he doesn't want to know. Eavesdropping on the people he cares about in their unhappy moments isn't something he makes a habit of, but it's hard not to hear Spencer's response. "Don't say that," he murmurs. "That's not true… We'll talk about it later, okay?"

You clear your throat. "Yeah. Whatever you want."

Derek doesn't hide that he's been listening very well, pulling a crime scene document up to his eye line as you and Spencer pull apart. Your eyebrows furrow into a glare, but it's Spencer who says, "What?" 

Hotch bites back a smile. Derek grins and holds his hands up in surrender. 

"Just nice to see you taking care of my favourite girl," he smarms.

"Stop. You're extremely unprofessional," Spencer says, helping you into your seat unnecessarily.

"And you're not?" Derek asks, gesturing to his hand where it lingers behind your shoulders. 

You finally chip in, apparently back to your regular self. "Only one of us was responsible for a unit wide HR mandate about inappropriate behaviour." 

"You cannot keep bringing that up." 

"Why not?" 

Hotch takes a sip of his tepid coffee. He'd rather not get involved. 

[genderless-naper]

candle shopping

trafalgar law x strawhat!reader

smut! a lil ooc rough law hehe

nsfw, wc: 3.4k, lowercase intended !

a boring day on the sunny draws law to go ‘candle shopping’ from your personal collection. it accidentally escalates to something deeper than meant to be

being stuck on a ship in the middle of the ocean with the strawhats was not the most ideal for law. they were loud, obnoxious, and have no concept of personal space. law would often find himself locked away in rooms to find some peace and quite from the hectic crew.

the only strawhat he could bear being around was you. you had the personality to match with the others humors, but he would discover a completely different side whenever he found himself on the deck at night starring at you while you rambled about how endless the sea was. he could have spent the time lost away in books, but in reality he didnt mind exchanging his time with you. that was more than he could say about any of the strawhats.

law knew something was wrong with him when he looked forward to seeing you during breakfast. the way you appeared in his view made made his mind generate hundreds of thoughts at once. sometimes he would curse himself and avoid looking at you all together. this tactic didnt last long since you were always asking him something.

“hey law do you need any sugar for your coffee?” you held out the small container with sugar cubes

he never added sugar in his coffee, but how could he resist when you asked him so earnestly? how could he say no when you made the effort to think about him?

he took two and added them to his cup as he watched you make jokes with luffy about eating sea monsters for lunch. he was starring at you again before he realized it.

you on the other hand were no stranger to how the surgeon was the slightest bit friendlier to you. he didnt immediately leave when you approached him like when others did. hell, he actually made an effort to converse with you when you said something.

during one uneventful afternoon laying on the lawn you decided to check on your friends to see if they were doing anything interesting. you found luffy, usopp, and chopper fishing at the side of the sunny. their activity seemed more boredom-inducing than yours. you found zoro doing his usual 2000 pushups which were apart of his training routine. you found sanji prepping vegetables for his next meal. you saw nami and robin enjoying the weather laying on chairs on the deck. you found brook cleaning his violin while being told an ailen story by franky. everyones activities just seemed uneventful. you thought of your next stop on your checking-in-with-friends train.

knowing where to find the last subject, you headed to the library of the sunny. you found law nose-deep in some mundane book.

“he’s probably the most uninteresting person to check up on.” you thought to yourself. law heard the door open. he simply didn’t care enough to look up to know who entered, or give a thought of acknowledgment when the unknown person approached him. he only withdraws from his book when you sit next to him asking how his day was. you rambled on about how bored you were and how the crew had nothing fun to do.

at this point law would usually get up and go somewhere else secluded to finish his book. he wanted to, but something was holding him back. maybe it was the way you talked, or the way your hair fell perfectly over your shoulders, or how your confidence radiated when you held his eye contact. he would never admit how he would give anything just to hear you say his name on a loop. it made him feel special.

and yet he pushed those feelings deep into his abyss when he replied, trying to sound as cold as possible, “i honestly dont care. im busy so leave me alone” law was expecting you to be offended or leave. the last thing he thought he would hear was you bursting into laughter.

‘did i say something embarrassing?’ he thought to himself trying to retrace his words exactly.

you shook your head and tossed his book to the side while replying,

“all this reading has made you become the most boring person on this ship! who cares about some variant-strand of a virus whose last infection was recorded 200 years ago?” he kept a cool expression on his face.

you were desperate to find something entertaining to do. realizing how dimly lit the library could be you thought back to your candle stash you kept which had varieties of scents.

“hey, do you like candles?” you asked the raven haired man.

law raised an eyebrow suspiciously, “candles? why would you ask that?”

you lit up finally finding an activity to pass the time with. you grabbed his hand and pulled him to the girls cabin, “lets take you candle shopping!”

this was laws first time entering the girls cabin of the ship. he never had a reason to. he was quite surprised to see how much more spacious, cleaner, and taken care of it was compared to the boys. your bed was made, and it looked like heaven to the heavily sleepy-induced doctor who constantly disregarded his insomniac habits.

you rummaged under your bed and pulled out a bag with different colors and sizes of candles. you put the bag on your bed and pulled out candles one by one.

law stared in an utter state of confusion. you popped the top off of one and handed it to him, “smell this and see if you like it”

at first the doctor quietly refused, trying to hand the candle back so he could go back to reading. you huffed and dragged him to sit on your bed, “if youre gonna coop yourself in that library all day like a chicken you might as well take a candle with you. its so dimly lit i dont get how you can read at night. now find one that you like! dont worry i wont charge you.” you winked playfully at the doctor

law fought the blood threatening to rise to his cheeks. he gave up and started ‘candle shopping’ through your pile. he smelt some that were vanilla heavy, fruit heavy, lavender heavy, tobacco heavy (he hated that one specifically), and more. they all left him feeling unimpressed.

you thought for what the man sitting next to you would enjoy. you grabbed another candle that was a shade of deep green. you read the label and handed it to him. “this one has notes of deep forest, sandalwood, and fresh spring water.” law smelt it not expecting much.

he was pleasantly surprised to find how he actually liked this scent. you were excited to see if he found a candle that fit his interests, “do you like that one? should i light it for you??”

he saw at your excitement radiating off of you. how could he say no when you went to the extent to find him something he liked? how could he say no when you cared this much about him? he silently handed the candle back.

you cleared away the other rejected candles and got off your bed. you ordered law to lay down as you lit the candle carefully, “you need to relax to be able to fully enjoy the energy it offers! try to get comfortable.”

he was astonished at your directness, “you want me to.. lay down on your bed? it’s made and ill just get it messy.”

you shook your head and pushed him to lay down. you carefully placed the candle on the floor right next to the bed, “close your eyes and really try to relax trafalgar”

he felt a warm sensation spread in his stomach when you said his name. he was left with no choice but to close his eyes. the scent of the wax filled the room gradually. it wasn’t a scent that was overpowering. he could still smell you on your sheets with the candle’s notes lingering in the background.

you stay quite as you watched the once stoic man fade into a state of relaxation. you were feeling proud of your succession.

law heard footsteps starting to approach the door of the cabin followed by laughter of the other two female members. his once relaxed state quickly washed away not wanting to be caught. he wasn’t just in the girls cabin. he was in your bed. who knows what the strawhats would think of him? he gave you a look of alarm.

as the cabin knob twisted you quickly jumped into bed and pulled the covers up. you were on your side with your back facing the door trying your best to conceal the tattooed man. your legs were practically tangled with each other. mere centimeters was the distance between your faces. you shushed him quietly and pushed him slightly lower while hiding his hat under your bed.

the door opened as the two females walked in. nami saw you in bed and wondered what was wrong, “hey y/n is everything okay?”

nico robin hummed, “its not like you to be in bed in the middle of the day”

you faked a cough trying to convince them of you feeling unwell, “i just wanted to lay down for a bit.”

nami replies, “if you want me to ask sanji to make you some soup then let me know”

you okay’d a response back to her.

law wished he activated his powers before becoming stuck in this predicament. he wished he never got sucked into your side quest. he wish he could be able to say no to you. maybe then he wouldn’t have been stuck hiding in bed with you. his hand was naturally placed on your waist as you had left your hand in his hair after trying to push him down. the position was dangerous for him. he looked up at you while you flashed apologetic looks.

you finally noticed your hand slightly tangled in his hair. you tried to move it to make the position less awkward. moving it a few centimeters before opting to return it to its original position to avoid attention being drawn to you. the feeling of your fingers trying to move yet returning back to him made his mind blank out. his eyes turned half lidded as the forestry scent was of the candle made him slightly sink into you. dangerously closer than ever.

you took in every feature of the man right before you. you quietly moved your thumb from the roots of his hair to trace his facial features softly. you dont know what came over you. you ran your thumb lightly across his eyebrow, his nose bridge, then cheek bone, and finally to his lip. you hesitate, resting your thumb on his lower lip, not daring to move it any further.

laws gaze had changed from its previous cold appearance. he looked different from before, as if he wanted you to continue. he needed you to admire his features just like how he admired yours every moment he saw you. both your desperations climbed in attempt to keep quiet. his hold on your waist pulled you ever so slightly closer to him. enough hoping you wouldn’t notice. you continued to slowly trace his lower lip, pulling down on it slightly to see how far he would really let you take it.

he shot you a dangerously possessive gaze. it was his turn to return the act. he slowly ran his once resting hand down your waist and down your thigh. your curves fitting perfectly in his hand. he gripped your thigh slightly, which earned a surprised gasp from you.

nami looked back over, completely oblivious to the unsuspecting man in bed with you, “are you sure you’re okay y/n..?”

you responded quicker than you liked to admit, trying to hide the panic in your voice, “im fine really! just a bit of a headache i guess. ill be fine once i take a nap.” you glanced back down at the raven-haired man who pressed a ghosting kiss against your thumb.

you felt your heart skip a beat as your body’s heat started to rise. you couldn’t believe how daring he’s trying to show you he could be. any moment other than now would’ve been better to see.

you try to move your legs to untangle them from the man in front of you. you bit your lip as you felt your thigh brush harshly against law in between his legs. you freeze while you feel him harden slightly; member pressing back onto your thigh.

law tried his best for fight these sensations, but it was difficult when all you did was light his body on fire every time you moved. the warm sensation in his stomach from earlier growing into a blaze. he mouthed words at you carefully quiet, ‘don’t move’

you smirk once you realize the position you were in. you were towering over law as he looks at you with eyes which showed slight desperation. you kept tracing his lower lip as you continued to push your thigh against his growing member. you wanted to be the sole reason he fought to make any noise in that moment.

law cursed you silently in his head. he gripped your thigh while digging his fingertips into your skin. he shot you a now threatening look. knowing what you were doing and how you deliberately were doing it to get a kick out of him drove him insane.

he could easily take control of the power dynamic now in place if it hadn’t been for the women still in the room. he knew you were taking advantage of the situation. he fought a growl as you trailed your hand from his lip to the collar of his shirt. playing with it innocently while devilishly tormenting the man with your thigh drove you to feel your stomach blaze as well.

the two women bid their farewells as they left the cabin shutting the door behind them. you felt a sense of relief wash over you, but were pulled back into reality when law grabs your ass while slightly grinding himself on your thigh to feel some relief.

he spoke words of venom to you, “you’re gonna regret this y/n..”

you tilt his chin up to you, reminding him of the power dynamic still in place, “who says i don’t want this?” your words sweet like honey.

law looks back at the door to make sure no more disturbances would bother his current moment with you. he flipped you onto your back and towered over you. hands between your head to support himself.

he leaned down to your ear and spoke while smirking, “now its my turn to see how quiet you can be”

your eyes widen once you see the position you were in. the blaze in your body abandoned any rational thinking you had at that moment. you pulled the man down into a sloppy kiss as you tug up on his shirt desperately trying to expose his body.

he pulled the shirt off mid kiss then worked on taking this belt off. you whined for him to hurry while the desperate between your legs painstakingly grew with each passing second. you both pushed the rest of your clothes off in an attempt to not waste anymore time.

law grabbed his member with a slight groan, “look at what you did to me y/n..”

you couldnt help but feel proud of being able to draw this side of law out. not too long ago he was a mysterious identity on the ship. now he was just mere seconds away from fucking your mind out of you.

he opened pushed open your legs and ripped your panties to the side to give himself more accessibility. you pulled him closer in a desperate attempt to get his member in you. he chuckled deeply at your failed attempt.

he flashed his golden eyes up and down your body, “i should make you wait for being such a tease..”

you shook your head fast. ecstasy completely taking over all your sense, “i didn’t mean to do all tha-“

“you still did it y/n” he shot back lowly, “i want you to beg for me” he smiled sadistically down at you.

desperation on your mind left you no other choice, “please law..”

he raised a brow unimpressed, “thats it? i know you can give me more than y/n” he slowly moved the head of his member up and down your wet folds to tease you.

you shut your eyes as you spewed a line of noncomprehensive begs. you didn’t even understand what you were saying at that point.

once satisfied with your obvious desperation on display law slowly pushed himself into you. the way he disappeared into you made his stomach do flips. your warmth completely captivating him.

you let out a quiet moan as you grip his tattooed biceps. you begged him for more.

every whine and beg drove law further off the edge. granting your wish he started his pace. it was a slow motion which picked up into a faster, harsher rhythm.

law was fascinated with how well your body took him in. every time he pulls to almost abandon your hole you take him back in fully. your moans starting to pick up as the man above you tries to fuck sense back into you, “you think you can pull stunts like that and get away with it?” he grunts in your ear, trying to suppress his own moans.

the slapping of skin becoming louder with every snap of laws hips hitting you. his rhythm, once steady and strong, starts to falter and get sloppy. your own blaze turning into a burning fire reaching the depths of your stomach. you slapped a hand over your mouth to mask the loud moans escaping your lips. law pushes your hand away and pulls you into a messy kiss while taking in every moan you gave to him. you dig your nails into his shoulders indicating you were climbing fast to your high.

the man above you fucks into you with a rough pace. he made the mistake of looking down at your eyes. the way they glossed over with ecstasy and your eyebrows taking shape of desperation made law lose his rhythm completely. he just vigorously pushed into you chasing his own high. he wanted to take a picture of your sight before him. he knew the way you looked at him would burn into his memory forever. you moaned his name while repeating how close you were. unable to suppress his own moans he started to repeat your name back to you. both your names rolling off each others tongues so effortlessly.

the knot in your stomach pulled so tightly. you felt the harsh waves of ecstasy hit you as your orgasm forces itself onto you. you dig your nails into law while he covers your mouth with his hand. the sight of you moaning mindlessly because of him was enough for his knot to pull. he knew he was dangerously close as well. he continued to fuck into you to chase his high. the overstimulation causing your eyes to roll back slightly.

the sight caused laws own orgasm to hit him faster than he imagined. he pulled out quickly and released himself onto your stomach. he collapsed next to you as you both pant to regain your breaths. he stares at your messy hair, plump lips, and how your chest rises and falls. he’d be lying to himself he if he didn’t want to experience seeing you like this all the time. with sweat glistening both your tired bodies he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close to him.

he mumbles to you tiredly, “you dont know how long ive been wanting to do that..”

you giggle as you ease into him, “then you should’ve done it earlier”

the crackling of the candle returns you to your senses, “its good we lit a candle before hand..” you laugh tiredly at the ironic situation.

he rolls his eyes while the corner of his lips tug up slightly. he grabbed your chin and kissed you passionately to make up for all the sloppy kisses he gave earlier(he just wants your lips on his any way possible). you cup his cheek and deepen the kiss while smiling. law feels you smiling into the kiss, and it causes him to smile a bit more than he usually would.

even he’d admit that ‘candle shopping’ maybe wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

you can find pt.2 here!

[4linos]

breaking the silence

lee know x gn!reader

synopsis: after an argument that involves several tears and hurtful words, your boyfriend gives you the silent treatment.

wc: 2060 (,,> ᴗ <,,)

You had both had a long and tiring day, but it was the silence that had you awake, not the exhaustion. Since the argument earlier in the evening, there had been an unbearable, uncomfortable silence between you and Minho. Really, it had been a dumb approach. It was a small miscommunication that might have been cleared up in a few minutes. Instead, the words had come out of your lips quickly and harshly before you had a chance to think about them, and Minho had snapped, his face tensing in anger. You tried to explain and apologize right away, but he didn't listen. He had turned away without even looking at you, which was an obvious sign that he didn't want to speak with you.

Hours had gone by now, and the tension in the room was intolerable. Your pulse is racing and the knot of anxiety in your chest is getting tighter as you lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. Half expecting him to be there, you reached to his side of the bed, but the room was cold and empty. He was still on the couch. After a moment of hesitation during which you bit your lip, you got up and walked quietly into the living room. With his back to you, Minho sat on the couch and watched the TV without paying much attention. The distance between you two felt like an entire ocean, and his shoulders were stiff.

"Minho," you said softly, your voice tentative. “Please… can we talk?” He didn't answer. The ensuing silence was suffocating. As you waited with your heart pounding faster, he stayed motionless with his back to you and refusing to acknowledge you. In an attempt to calm yourself, you swallowed. "I’m sorry Minho. I didn't mean to upset you. "Look at me, please." Nothing. He didn't appear to have heard you at all. It felt almost like a physical barrier because of how heavy the silence was between you two. You tried "Minho…" once more, your voice hardly audible above a whisper, the words suddenly desperate. "I really apologize. Talk to me, please.”

Still nothing.

A part of you wanted to turn away, to give him the space he so obviously needed, to leave him alone. The other side of you, however, couldn't take it. You felt the weight of the unsaid words weighing down on your chest as the silence tore into you. You felt as though the silence was choking you. Gently resting your trembling hand on the back of the couch, you were almost touching him, but not quite. "Please, Minho. I don’t want to lose you. When you act like this, I'm not sure what to do.” You thought he may finally say something as his shoulders stiffened. But the words that came out of his mouth were quiet, icy, and far away.

Without even looking at you, he murmured, "I don't want to talk right now." His voice was flat, with a hint of concealed rage boiling beneath. The words hurt more than you thought they would. Tears threatened to spill out of your throat, but you fought them back. "Minho, I'm at a loss for what to do. I hate this. I hate the way you're ignoring me. Tell me what's wrong, please.” When his head finally turned, you could see that his eyes were filled with a mixture of hurt, frustration, and possibly a hint of disappointment.

He repeated, "I don't want to talk about it," this time with more firmness and a clenched jaw that made it clear he wasn't going to back down. "I don't feel like doing this at the moment. Leave me alone, please. It felt like a face-slap. Your breath caught in your throat as the hurt of his words sunk deep in your chest. You felt so tiny and unimportant all of a sudden, and the pain was unbearable. You said, your voice a mixture of despair and irritation, "You've been like this all night." "Will you please just let me in? Why are you afraid to just speak to me?”

After a while, Minho straightened his posture and kept his gaze fixed on the ground. "You don't understand, do you?" The bitterness in his voice pierced you like a knife, even though it was quieter now. "You're constantly trying to fix things and restore everything, but sometimes I simply need space. I don't require fixing. I don't need to hear your apologies again. All I need is time.” The tears you were suppressing burned in your eyes. "Minho, I'm not trying to fix you. I'm just… All I want to do is put things right. When you refuse to communicate with me, I'm at a loss on what to do. When you cut me off in this way...”

When his eyes finally met yours, he ran a hand through his hair in irritation, yet there was something cold about them that made your stomach churn. "It's not always your turn to fix things. I need time to reflect sometimes. I need you to leave me alone sometimes.” Your chest tightened under the weight of everything you were suppressing, and the intensity of his remarks caused your heart to shatter. He had never been this detached, so angry, and so unwilling to compromise with you. It seemed like he was getting farther away each time you attempted to close the distance.

You said, "I'm sorry," once more, your voice cracking under the pressure of everything. "Minho, I have no idea how to go about this. All I want is to comprehend. Please don't ignore me. He stayed silent for a long time, and the emptiness between you two felt like an endless ocean that you were unsure how to cross. Then he spoke again, softer but still unpleasant, in a voice that was hardly more than a whisper. He murmured, "I'm not trying to hurt you," as his eyes briefly met yours before averting them. “But, I'm not sure how to deal with this either. Right now, I'm not sure how to deal with *us*.”

You were left whirling by his quiet, raw words. Even though you were drowning in your own pain, you could sense it seeping from him. Your heart thumping in your chest, you took a step closer. "Please, Minho... I am not planning on leaving. Just don't ignore me. Together, we might resolve this.” He remained silent for quite some time. However, you stayed put. You stayed there, both of you trapped in the limbo of suffering and annoyance, close yet still far away. His hand hesitated as though it would have reached for you, but he stopped.

He sighed at last, his breath trembling, the weight of everything between you two bearing down on him. He made a tiny move, brushing your palm with his, but it was the most subdued apology he could offer. His voice was almost heard, but he was sincere when he said, "I'm sorry." "I just want some time. I'll talk with you when I'm ready. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you nodded. "All right. I'll hold off. Just don't be silent for too long. Minho didn't respond, but you could tell he hadn't actually cut you off—at least not entirely—by the glint of remorse in his eyes. Not forever.

Even if it passed for the time being, the silence between you lingered, serving as a reminder that sometimes the quiet that followed a fight was just as difficult.

—

It seemed like there had been no end to the silence between you and Minho. For days, the room felt heavy, and you both cautiously avoided each other, not knowing how to heal the rift that had developed. However, time was doing its silent magic, and gradually the barriers you had put up between each other started to come down.

It started with the small things.

You noticed that Minho was beginning to leave small signs of himself where he typically didn't. His jacket was carelessly placed on the chair's back, as though he had decided it didn't need to be neatly folded. His shoes kicked off at the door in a hurry, a sign that he was starting to feel like his own home again. Nevertheless, things didn't start to change until you were in the kitchen making coffee one morning. Minho came into the room quietly, his hair a little disheveled from sleep, and he was still dressed in pajama trousers. For a long time, he watched you from the doorframe, his face unreadable.

Although you both understood that the silence between you wouldn't last forever, you kept silent at first. You just continued doing what you were doing because you had to take the initiative and didn't want to push him. He apologized in a low, reluctant voice that sounded almost like he was trying things out. His eyes were on the floor, not looking into your eyes, and his hands were in his pockets. "For everything."

Your heart skipped a beat as you froze. It was there. The first break in the silence: the words you've been waiting for. The weight of all that had been left unsaid made your chest tighten as you turned to face him. You started to say, "Minho," but your voice trailed off as your throat filled with emotion. When he finally looked into your eyes, his face softened and he took a step forward. "I should have spoken to you. "I shouldn't have pushed you away like that," he added in a remorseful tone. "I simply... I shut you out rather than letting you in because I didn't know how to deal with anything.”

You gave a small shake of your head, not because you didn't comprehend, but rather because the pain and suffering of those silent days remained present. You tried to control your emotions as you whispered, "I know you needed space, Minho." But when you refused to communicate with me, I was at a loss on how to make things better. I was really lost. He took tentative but resolute steps toward you. Almost whispering, he replied, "I don't want you to feel lost." "I apologize for making you feel that way. I just want you to understand that it wasn't about you. I was the one. I've honestly been overwhelmed.

The pain in your chest slowly begins to ease as you finally release a breath you were unaware you were holding. "I get it, Minho. Yes, I do. But if you don't let me in, I can't support. At that moment, he extended his hand and lightly touched yours. The tender touch served as a reminder that you were still there for one another despite the stillness. "I'll try," he answered in a quiet but genuine tone. "I swear. I'll let you in more. I don't want to isolate you again.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the relief of hearing him say it. For the first time in days, you put your arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug as you moved closer, your heart overflowing with emotion. After a moment of hesitation, Minho wrapped his arms around you and held you tight, allowing you to both feel as though the burden of the last few days had been lifted. It was a subtle acknowledgment of guilt and a subconscious understanding that although things weren't flawless, they could still be fixed.

You muttered, "I'm here, Minho," against his chest. "I'm not leaving either." His voice was muffled as he talked into your hair, holding you closer. “I know. I’m sorry for making you feel like you didn’t matter. You do. You always have.”

Even though there was still some tension, hurt, and stillness, it didn't matter just now. The important thing was that you were both prepared to start over and, no matter how long it took, find your way back to one another.

Minho then said, "Let's take it slow," while planting a gentle kiss on your forehead and wearing the smallest of smiles. “But let's do it together.”

From then on, you were aware that you would deal with any challenges together; there would be no more silence, only love, understanding, and patience.

—

nini’s notes 111124

hi everyone! this is my first full length fic & it’s angst! i personally lovee reading angst so i thought i’d try it out, i hope you enjoy & don’t forget to leave any feedback that you may have 🤗🫶

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

[egcdeath]

life's a beach

pairing: patrick zweig x reader request: @diorrfairy: i can't stop thinking about patrick x reader who's an introvert, kinda shy but with a fiery temper just like him. and she knows it's better not to get involved with guys like him but she can't help it. and he's constantly teasing her trying to get on her nerves like … summary: a chain smoking tennis player disrupts your day on the beach and uproots your entire summer vacation. word count: 6.5k warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda… the reader folds like a paper airplane pretty quickly), smoking, no use of y/n, low speed police (pool security guard) chase, mentions of smoking, brief mention of alcohol, so much exposition, vague descriptions of sports, some kissing, patrick and reader are spoiled rich kids author’s note: this fic definitely got away from me, but i hope that you all enjoy it! also, i apologize in advance for any characterization issues, since i’ve only seen the movie once. with that being said, i’m still taking requests if you want to send me anything!

For all your life, the beach has been your happy place. The soothing, repetitive push and pull of the water and the endless crashing of the tide was a guaranteed way to make your loud mind quiet down. Next to the endless ocean, you were just a tiny little dot–not a girl who was a golf prodigy, or someone whose parents' financial power caused everyone around you to treat you like a delicate doll. In fact, that was part of the reason why your parents purchased the lot in the first place, as you insisted that the comfort of a semi-private beach was necessary for you to properly enjoy your vacation.

That was also what made your smoking companion on the beach all the more jarring.

You were fully reclined on a beach chair and deeply immersed in the novel in your hands when you first caught a whiff of the strong, putrid scent, which immediately left you annoyed. Turning your head to follow the scent, your face somehow fell further when it fell upon the culprit of the foul cigarette smell. The side profile of a man who was about your age, casually smoking as he stared out at the body of water across from you.

Perhaps you had become so immersed in your book that you’d failed to realize that only a few steps away from you, someone new had joined you on the sand. After all, when you sat down just an hour ago, you were completely alone. Somehow, that managed to make your mood sour even more. There was all this space on the beach, yet this man decided to sit down right next to you and smoke a cigarette!

You were sure that you were gawking at him at this point, if at nothing else, his sheer audacity. When he finally seemed to sense your seething gaze, you quickly looked back at your book as if it was the most interesting thing in the world—despite you completely losing your spot.

After a moment of pretending to resume your reading, the stale scent of the cigarette had lessened, indicating to you that the man next to you had finally stopped. Good. Maybe your simple glare had been more effective than you realized.

But nearly as soon as a self-satisfied smirk could find itself on your face, the scent returned in full force. You practically had to physically restrain yourself from uttering, “Seriously?” aloud.

Seeing as your first passive aggressive attempt at getting him to stop was futile, you decided to pull out the big guns.

With your all but abandoned novel in hand, you curled your unoccupied arm around your mouth and began to cough profusely. You put all your might into pulling out the most atrocious sounds you could muster from your lungs, and when you decided you were satisfied with this passive aggressive approach, you glanced over at your beach companion, only to find him looking back at you.

With him looking straight at you, you felt your stomach trip over itself. You’d always been a sucker for pretty men, and with one pointed look, you were sure that this would be no different. Yet, armed with the knowledge that you were the one who started this, you willed yourself not to give in to someone with good looks and cigarette breath.

You continued to stare him down, hoping that you were coming off as intimidating, rather than swooning. Though, the longer the two of you glared at each other, you swore you could see his lips mold into the look of a smirk, particularly as he took a pointedly long drag from his cigarette.

It quickly became abundantly clear to you that he wasn’t interpreting your gaze to be anything near threatening—if anything, he saw it as a challenge. Unluckily for him, you were incapable of backing down to a challenge.

As soon as you opened your mouth to form some sort of sassy remark, you were surprisingly beaten to the punch.

“Want one?” he asked, the smirk unwavering on his stupidly attractive face.

“Ew,” you replied, then immediately regretted it. Seriously? Ew? That was the best that you could do? You would think that years of dodging and delivering verbal daggers over family dinner would’ve better prepared you for this moment, but leave it to you to be tripped up by a pretty face.

You paused for a beat too long before retorting, “You can keep your lung disease, thank you very much.” You readjusted the book in your lap, still not feeling completely satisfied with your reply, but anything was better than your first statement. “Maybe go smoke somewhere that’s not right next to me, like,” you paused to gesture to the widely empty beach. “Literally anywhere else.”

“I didn’t realize that you were queen of this strip of beach. My apologies, Your Highness,” he shot back snarkily. You swore you could feel your blood boiling as it pumped through your veins.

“I’m not saying you can’t stay here,” you could feel your volume increasing as more adrenaline pumped through you, “I’m just asking that you don’t smoke.”

You watched as his brows raised questioningly the longer you spoke. “Or at least, don’t smoke next to me,” you clarified, folding under the pressure of a set of rather piercing blue eyes.

“Fine,” he agreed with a shrug, to your surprise. That hadn’t been so hard after all. Maybe he wasn’t all that bad. You bit back the part of you that wanted to feel triumphant at your clear victory over this random, pain-in-the-ass man.

Once more, you pretended to read your book while in your peripheral vision you watched him grab his few items, including his box of cigarettes, and stand up to move. What you weren’t expecting to see was him plant himself just a few feet further from you, sit down, then begin to aggressively tap his box of cigarettes, just loud enough to grab your attention. Naively believing that he wouldn’t actually have the audacity to begin smoking again, you were slightly scandalized when he pulled a stick out and returned to happily chain smoking.

He briefly glanced back over at you, the smug look on his face telling you that he was eagerly awaiting your reaction. As much as you didn’t want to humor him, you clearly couldn’t hide your annoyance.

“Oh my god,” you huffed, grabbing your tote bag and towel and standing up to head back towards your beach house. Maybe the beach just wasn’t in the cards for today. At least that man couldn’t bother you in your sunroom.

——————

One of the benefits of owning and spending your summer at your vacation home was being able to have your friends stop by and spend a few days with you. Seeing as your parents were utterly uninterested in spending any of your summer break together, it was also nice that you were basically able to do whatever you wanted over the summer.

As a teenager, this mainly meant parties and intense summer flings, but as your time in college began to mature you and your friends, the novelty of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing began to wear off. What never seemed to wear off was your love for the local ice cream shop, with its sweet dairy scent lingering in the air and a waffle cone that was nothing short of to die for.

With one of your friends’ visits coming to an end, the two of you sat on the patio of this shop, racing against time and heat as you worked on your cones. In between gossip about which one of your classmates had to attend graduation with a baby bump, you caught your eye on someone exiting the shop to join you on the patio.

You practically had to hold back your groan as you processed who it was. Unfortunately, your enemy from the beach hadn’t felt nearly enough shame, and he openly waved at you.

Upon seeing your eyes wander, your friend turned around to see what it was that caught your eye. Just as quickly as she turned around to view the asshole, she turned right back to you with a newfound excitement.

“Oh my god, you know him?” your friend asked you, shock and elation written all over her face for a reason you couldn’t understand.

“Unfortunately,” you replied, taking a bite of a bit of exposed cone. “Do you know him? Did he go to your high school or something?”

She scoffed at your words as if you were missing the most obvious point in the world. “‘Did he go to my high school or something?’” she repeated in disbelief. “That’s Patrick Zweig. He’s about to go pro.”

You tilted your head and furrowed your brows, as if to ask for more context.

“In tennis? He’s like, the thing right now,” she explained.

“Maybe that’s why he’s such an asshole,” you glanced back over at him, only to find that he was unabashedly staring at you as he licked his own cone of ice cream. If you hadn’t had such a ridiculous encounter a week ago, you would’ve thought that he was being suggestive towards you.

“What happened that made him such an asshole?” she prodded, and you swore that she leaned forward as she asked.

“Please try to look a little less excited,” you laughed, entertained by your friend’s investment in your story about someone who was a celebrity in her eyes.

“Sorry,” she apologized disingenuously. “Go ahead.”

“Well, I was just trying to do some reading out on the beach, when he sat like, two feet away from me. Mind you, the entire beach was empty. He could’ve gone anywhere else.”

“Dick,” she interjected, though the unsubtle glance over in Patrick’s direction and her overzealous body language suggested to you that she might’ve meant the words less than she thought she did.

“Right,” you agreed. “But that clearly wasn’t enough. So he starts chain smoking. Right next to me.”

“Rude,” she added, doing her best to validate you as you told the story. Her ability to only add commentary in a monosyllabic manner was entertaining you, but you couldn’t focus too much on that now.

“So I called him out. I was like, ‘Hey, you dick. I know that you want black lung, but not everyone else does,’” you explained, embellishing your story to disguise your lackluster responses.

She giggled as you explained and you continued on. “Obviously, he was embarrassed that I called him out. So he looks me right in the eyes, and-“

“And what?” she asked, her eyes practically glimmering, as if you were about to tell her a story about some wild tryst that left you with a negative impression of him.

“Babe, I don’t think this story ends the way you think it does.”

“We’ll see,” she said with a shrug and a wink.

“Well, he got his ass up and started walking away. Internally, I’m celebrating. But then, he sits down pretty close to me… and starts smoking again. And he’s staring me down the whole time he does it.”

“Ugh! He is an asshole,” she shook her head as you wrapped up your story. “But like, isn’t he kinda…?”

“He could be the sexiest man alive and couldn’t seduce me with that personality,” you replied confidently, although you weren’t completely sure of your words.

“That’s certainly not stopping him from trying,” she glanced over her shoulder once more, where he was still looking at you while very intently eating his ice cream cone.

“Gross,” you replied, feigning a full-body shudder. “You couldn’t even pay me to go anywhere near him.”

“It’s probably for the best anyway. A friend of my friend said there was some super messy relationship drama with him recently.”

“Lovely,” you replied, trying your best to look and sound disinterested, but feeling curious regardless. “I feel bad for whoever has to spend any extended period of time with him,” you popped the bottom of your ice cream cone into your mouth, then crushed a paper towel in your hand. “Wanna head out?”

——————

After that, you truly tried your best to avoid Patrick. Like clockwork, he seemed to appear on the beach in your backyard during the late afternoon. You weren’t ashamed to admit that you had watched him through the windows of your bedroom more than a handful of times, and you could almost swear that his head was on a swivel, as if he were looking for someone before he settled into his spot.

Unfortunately for you, it felt like he seemed to pop up wherever you were. As you evaluated boxes of strawberries at the grocery store, you noticed him eyeing bunches of bananas not all that far away from you. Midway through a hike, you noticed a familiar set of distractingly muscular thighs and tried your best to hide, much to your friend’s confusion. While drinking a fruity cocktail at a bar, you noticed him and finished off your drink and threw down a bill at record speed.

You guessed that you never realized how small a town was until you were actively attempting to avoid someone. In a way, it was a little bit exciting to be dodging him so vehemently, though you’d never really admit that to yourself. At least, it was exciting until it became an utter annoyance, much like it was becoming at that very moment.

After you’d decided that you’d spent enough of your summer lounging around without practicing any golf, you decided to take it upon yourself to head to your local country club and take on the familiar course. Of course, you couldn’t play any golf without fueling up first, which left you in the restaurant of the club snacking on a cup of fries when you spotted the one person you had been trying desperately to dodge.

You averted your gaze down to your phone and acted as if you were reading the most interesting thing in the world, but not even that farce lasted long, as you were met with the sound of a chair scratching the floor across from you. You looked back up and were met with Patrick’s intense, searing stare.

“Are you following me, or something?” he asked, his brows furrowed at you as he looked at you with concern.

“What?!” you asked with disbelief. “You’re the one who keeps showing up around me and keeps licking ice cream seductively at me!”

“Seductively?” he laughed right in your face, and you could feel your face immediately warm up in embarrassment.

“Shut up,” you replied weakly, though you knew what you saw. “Who even are you?” you asked, despite now having the displeasure of knowing exactly who he was, thanks to your friend and a Google search.

He began to smirk, and it took everything in you to not want to wipe that smug smile right off of his face. “I’m Patrick, and you are?”

You introduced yourself while mentally berating yourself for the butterflies erupting in your stomach over his intent gaze. Unfortunately, Patrick was even better looking than you could’ve imagined up close, with sunkissed skin and freckles that seemed to go on for miles.

“Well if you’re not stalking me, what are you doing here?” he questioned, though it was clear from his crooked, goofy smile that he wasn’t being serious.

“I play golf,” you explained with a casual shrug, though the feelings you were having inside were far from casual. “So I’m here to do that. You?”

“I knew I’d heard that name before,” Patrick began before stealing a french fry from you and popping it into his mouth. “You won a championship recently?”

You nodded with what you hoped was a neutral expression on your face, hoping to brush him off despite the fireworks going off in your stomach and the heat returning to your face. Sure, it wasn’t the first time someone had recognized you for your accomplishments out on the golf course, but it felt different coming from him.

“I did,” you replied as casually as possible, not acknowledging his fry thievery or reciprocating your knowledge of his athletic achievements. It was always better to be more mysterious with the type of person who seemed to love the chase, and it seemed clear to you that Patrick was one of those people. “Anyway, I need to go practice so I can win the next championship.”

You pushed your unfinished dish of fries towards him and stood up before grabbing the golf bag propped up next to your feet. You pushed your chair in and didn’t even spare him a glance back in his direction as you walked away, secretly hoping to yourself that he was still watching you as intensely as he’d been watching you at the table.

You tried your hardest not to ruminate over your conversation and feelings too much, but as you walked out to the first hole, you couldn’t help but over analyze everything. The first and most confusing of which being your feelings towards Patrick. Clearly, you were attracted to him. Despite your terrible first impressions of each other and having what could arguably be described as a meet-ugly, you couldn’t pretend like his good looks and charming, yet cocky demeanor didn’t have an effect on you. It was clear from the way that the butterflies in your stomach decided to stop lying dormant every time he was in your vicinity.

What you still couldn’t quite place were his feelings towards you. It was obvious that he was getting some kick out of teasing you. Hell, it was obvious from the first interaction you had with him. And it seemed like he might be interested in you, based on the way he seemed to be magnetically drawn to you, and his less than appropriate treatment of his ice cream cone, which he could deny all he wanted, was definitely a shoddy attempt at flirting. Even your friend had noticed.

Just as you began to try to make sense of your previous interaction, you looked up to find a golf cart headed your way. The cart was manned by none other than the subject of your deep thoughts, and as Patrick got closer to you, you swore you could see a fiery excitement ignited in his body.

“Play with me?” Patrick asked once he parked, despite already being off the vehicle and reaching for his rented golf bag.

You paused for a moment, as if you were considering his proposition, despite you already knowing your answer. “As long as you don’t mind getting your ass whooped.”

You made sure to deliver on this promise, beating Patrick with ease. In a way, it felt like comeuppance for him being a nuisance towards you just a few weeks ago. But that didn’t mean your mini tournament was without its downsides for you. You tried desperately to fight the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl when he said something stupid and snarky, and to quiet your screaming brain during the many, many, times you corrected his stance.

What you were also surprised to find was that Patrick wasn’t all that terrible of company to keep. He seemed to know exactly what to say to make you laugh, despite your effort to be unimpressed with him, or how to throw you off right before you swung at a ball. More than once, you had to remind him that no amount of teasing would change the fact that he had a terrible score, but it certainly didn’t stop him from trying.

With your landslide victory clear and your game over, the two of you made your way back to the rental station.

“You definitely cheated,” Patrick commented as he put his equipment back.

“You’re such a sore loser,” you replied with a roll of your eyes and a laugh. You’d been doing a lot of eye rolling and laughing while playing golf with him, and it was oddly quite pleasant.

“I’m not!” he insisted, turning back to face you as if that would somehow prove his point.

“You are, though! You’re a dirty player, too. I don’t think anyone has ever come up behind me and yelled for me to focus before.”

“Whatever,” he dismissed you casually, “You would be eating your words right now if we were playing tennis.”

“Yeah?” you questioned with raised brows.

“Yeah,” he parroted back, taking a step towards you and locking that intense gaze on you once more.

Feeling bold, you matched his step forward, practically getting in his face. “Fine then. Let’s play.”

“Really?” he sounded shocked by your proposition, and looked utterly unintimidated by the fact that your faces were practically touching.

“Sure. There are some courts over by the pool,” you turned to look in the direction of the pool, taking that as an opportunity to step away from him. You feared what you might do if you stayed that close to him for any longer than you needed to. “Isn’t that what you came here to do anyway?”

“So you are stalking me?” he joked, referencing your earlier conversation.

You rolled your eyes once more. At this rate, your eyes were going to be stuck at the back of your head. “Do you want to play or not?”

If you were a beast on the golf course, Patrick was a sight to behold on the tennis court. The brief article you read online simply did not do the man across from you justice as he served balls at you that probably would have wiped your head clean off of your body if you had any slower reflexes.

While you were able to get a few good hits in, courtesy of the lessons your parents put you in before they realized that golf was your calling, none of them remotely compared to the man across the court.

But your embarrassing loss was rewarded by hearing the repetitive loop of grunts and groans from your competitor. It was somewhat of a miracle that you were able to keep it together without bursting out laughing or squeezing your thighs together. You were also handsomely rewarded by seeing those muscular thighs in action. To be completely frank, there were more than a few moments where you lost momentum due to distraction from Patrick’s good looks.

While Patrick had proved himself to be a sore loser while playing golf, he wasn’t a terrible winner. He only gloated about crushing you once the two of you had finished playing, but he did happen to revel in his win for the entire walk from the tennis courts to the locker rooms.

Surprisingly, you weren’t that annoyed by him. In fact, you were pretty sure that you were hovering around the feeling of endearment.

You sat out in the lobby, freshly showered and playing on your phone when a familiar presence joined you once more.

“Are you hungry?” Patrick asked you as he made himself right at home and sat down across from you.

Was he about to ask you out on a date?

“I could eat,” you replied, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach once more.

“Let’s get dinner, then,” he suggested, and you tried your best not to look too excited. He was asking you out on a date. What an unexpected turn of events.

“Sure. There’s a place just up the street if you want to walk?”

The diner was slightly further than you remembered it being, but the time passed by quickly as the two of you divulged stories of your sports accomplishments on your trek over. Over dinner, the two of you instantly bonded over a similar upbringing of wealthy parents who couldn’t really be bothered to raise you, and backgrounds in boarding schools that prioritized your athletic skills over anything else.

After spending way too long at your booth and working through a spread of food that would send a shiver down your coaches’ spines, your waiter finally stopped by your table with an exhausted look on their face.

“One check or two?” they asked you.

“One,” Patrick replied before you had the chance to pipe up. The waiter turned around without inquiring anything more, clearly tired of having to serve the two of you.

“Wow,” you said with a giggle. “Chivalry is not dead.”

“I’m single-handedly keeping it alive,” he joked right along with you.

Feeling emboldened by your day of camaraderie and teasing each other, you decided to ask something. “Does that make this count as a date, then?” you asked it as a joke, though you were genuinely curious about the answer. While you’d previously found yourself intrigued with his looks, you’d now learned that he was far more than that. It was safe to say that you’d developed a full-blown crush over the span of the day.

“Do you want it to count as one?” he asked almost earnestly, and despite the fact that you were sitting, you swore you felt your knees go weak.

You shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin on your face was anything but. Fortunately, he was wearing a matching grin, and you almost swore there was a dusting of pink on his cheeks. You buckled under his gaze, and looked down into your nearly empty cup of water. “Sure.”

“Then it’s a date,” he confirmed.

“It’s so hot,” you huffed as the two of you stepped outside and into the humid night.

“Wanna cool off at the pool?” he suggested after holding the door open for you.

“Wow, you just don’t want this date to end, huh?” you teased. “The pool is definitely closed by now.”

“So?” he replied.

“So you want to break in?”

“Why not?” he shot back.

You stared at him for a moment with a mostly blank expression.

“You’re such a bad influence. Let’s go,” you conceded, heading in the direction of the city’s pool.

Once the two of you arrived at the locked gate, you stood expectantly, waiting for the next part of Patrick’s plan. You didn’t have to wait for too long, as with a brief confirmation that you were ready, he hoisted you up and over the fence. You then watched as he flung his own body over the fence, and you bit your lip as you attempted to distract yourself from how that image made you feel.

With both of you on the correct side of the fence, you took it upon yourself to shuck off your clothes—save for your underwear–before you dipped your toe in the cold water.

“How’s the water?” Patrick asked as he approached you, taking his shirt and shorts off in the process. You tried your best not to ogle too much, but his six-pack was definitely staring at you. Yeah, you were definitely ogling, and he was definitely noticing.

“You tell me,” you replied, then pushed him into the pool without really thinking. You probably wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t just been caught looking at the man like he was a piece of meat, but you had been doing exactly that, and panicked.

After a moment, he resurfaced and spat out the water that he’d swallowed from your surprise movement. Yet, as he came back to the surface, he didn’t say anything to you.

You eyed him nervously while he began to approach you in the water, and you opened up your mouth to apologize just as you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. With a yelp, you were dragged down into the water, luckily dodging the ledge on your way down.

Coming back up, spat out the chlorinated water and coughed out what you’d swallowed. “I deserved that.”

“You definitely did,” he agreed, lightly splashing you with water from where he stood.

You splashed him right back, putting a little more effort in and splashing him with slightly more force. “But you also deserved that.”

“And why is that?” that overconfident look appeared on his face once more. Just twenty-four hours ago, if you’d seen that look, you’d probably want to knock it right off of him. Now, you were tempted to keep prodding.

“Because you were being a dick about smoking not that long ago,” you replied, getting a little closer to him and matching his look with your own confident gaze.

“Huh,” he hummed. “Fair enough.”

“So why’d you do it?”

“Who knows. Maybe I just really wanted a smoke. Maybe I wanted to catch the attention of the cute girl on the beach.”

“Shut up,” you replied with clear disbelief. “I like how you try to flatter your way out of every sticky situation.”

“I mean it.”

“So you thought annoying me was the best way to get my attention?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“What if I was allergic to cigarette smoke?”

“You weren’t.”

“What if I just didn’t react, then?”

“You did,” he said.

“Must’ve been fate,” you replied dryly.

“Must’ve,” he agreed earnestly. Immediately, you felt a tension in your chest, and you wondered if he felt the same way. You didn’t have a witty or sarcastic comeback, and his face was dangerously close to yours.

Unsure of what to do, you splashed him once more.

“What was that one for?”

For making me fall for you in the span of a day, you idiot.

You shrugged, unable to come up with a coherent answer with you realizing just how physically close the two of you were. Now that you were beginning to have a bit of clarity, you could hear the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums. Or maybe it was Patrick’s. With your bodies this close to each other, you couldn’t be too sure.

You wondered what was going through his mind, but if the quick glance to your lips and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulped was any indication of his thoughts, you were sure you were on the same page.

You found yourself in somewhat of a standoff as the two of you stood there, wordless and hearts pounding as you stood together in a freezing cold pool. You shut your eyes for a moment, and when you opened them, Patrick’s nose was practically pressing against yours. But just as you began to follow his lead, you were met with a blindingly bright flashlight.

“Hey!” a new voice yelled out, pulling the two of you out of your trance. “What’s going on here?”

Patrick’s eyes widened and you were sure yours did too.

“Shit, security,” you muttered to yourself as it occurred to you what was happening. The two of you immediately scurried to the side of the pool. “I don’t think they saw us, but they definitely heard us,” you whispered.

“Do you think you could outrun them?” he asked, matching your low tone as the light of the flashlight moved across the pool without

“What?”

“Come on,” he hoisted himself out of the pool and you did the same, trying your best to be quiet as the two of you grabbed your discarded clothes.

“Patrick…” you trailed off, glued to his side.

“Come on,” he repeated as he shepherded you to the fence. “I won’t let them get you. Now,” he gestured for you to come over so he could help you climb over again, and you did. As he climbed over, the security guard’s flashlight had finally caught up with the two of you.

“Hey!” the guard repeated, lunging in your direction just as Patrick made it over.

“Run!” you yelled at him as the two of you took off. All of that tennis training clearly paid off, as he was far faster than both you and the security guard.

“Get back here!” the guard shouted as he chased the two of you.

The two of you sprinted, your bare feet screaming at you as pebbles and sticks poked your soles. Running on pure adrenaline, you swore you could hear Patrick laughing as he ran ahead of you.

The two of you ended up by his car, parked safely at the country club. You desperately tried to catch your breath as you leaned against his car door, now completely sure that you’d lost the security guard who was chasing you.

“I hate you so much,” you got out in between panting heavily.

“No you don’t,” his chest rose and fell quickly as he corrected you.

“No I don’t,” you confirmed, taking satisfaction in hearing his heavy breaths next to you and knowing that you weren’t the only one affected by the chase.

It felt as if the two of you had been transported right back into the moment you were having in the pool, a heavy, undeniable tension settling over the two of you, with the adrenaline of the chase and your hearts still rapidly pumping blood from all that running. It was almost as if one second you were standing next to each other, and the next you were pinned up against his car door, kissing like your lives depended on it.

With one of his hands up your shirt, you somehow found the willpower to use the logical part of your brain. “Wait, stop,” you reluctantly said as you pulled away for air. “I don’t want another security guard chasing us.”

“They won’t,” Patrick insisted before leaning back in to kiss you.

“They will,” you disagreed, exerting all of your willpower to dodge his advance. “Take me home?”

Patrick’s hand sat securely on your thigh for the entire ride back to the beach house. With the tension between the two of you crackling and the excitement of successfully running away beginning to die down, the two of you were mostly quiet on your way over.

After he pulled into your driveway, he looked over at you with hesitance. If you didn’t know any better, you might even say that he looked a little nervous.

“Wanna come inside?” you broke the ice, knowing that was what he was surely thinking about, and just as you predicted, he seemed to light up at your invitation.

The heat of the moment seemed to have passed, with the two of you now safely in your home, and not coming off the heels of being chased down the street. Patrick sat on your living room couch while you poured two tumblers of a criminally expensive whiskey.

You returned to the living room and sat down on the far end of the couch, passing him one of the cups before extending your legs out. You were pleasantly surprised when he positioned your legs over his lap and began to soothingly rub up and down your calves.

“What a day,” you sighed, taking a long sip from your cup.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckled in response.

As you laid there, you realized that you were actually quite exhausted. A silence settled over you once more as you yawned, then Patrick yawned not too long after you.

“You know, you’re nothing like I expected you to be,” he said randomly.

“Oh?” you replied questioningly. “Should I be offended or flattered?”

“Up for interpretation,” he looked over to you to gauge your reaction, and you playfully pushed his thigh with your foot.

“Then I’m gonna interpret it in a good way.”

“I meant it in a good way,” he said after a beat.

You smiled softly as you peered at him. “I didn’t expect you to be like this, either. I actually had a lot of fun beating you in golf and running from security guards.”

“No way you’re still talking about golf after I absolutely demolished you in tennis,” he laughed, a sound that you’d grown rather fond of throughout the day.

“It was pretty amazing watching you play golf with such bad form. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone use that many strokes on that course.”

“You wanna talk about bad form?” Patrick laughed again. “It’s a miracle you didn’t pull something when we played tennis.”

“Hey! My form is not that bad. You know I was in tennis lessons as a kid, right?”

“And how long ago was that?” he probed, looking at you with a suspicious raise of a brow.

You tried your best to do some mental math, but you were far too tired to be precise. “I mean, it was a while ago…?”

“Clearly,” he shook his head.

“Rude,” you replied, though your tone carried across you not really caring. “I’m still here for a few more weeks. Maybe you could teach me.”

“Only if you teach me how to get better at golf. I’m gonna have to impress my fellow board members someday.”

“Deal,” you agreed. Part of you wanted to leap for joy after establishing that this wasn’t some sort of one-and-done thing, and that you could at least see Patrick until you went back home.

You watched as he leaned further against the couch and tilted his head against the cushioned back of the piece of furniture, his eyes fluttering shut as he did so.

“Want to go sleep on a real bed? The guest room is clean,” you offered.

“No, I’m comfortable here,” he yawned and patted your calf. You didn’t believe him in this slightest, with his long limbs and less than ideal sleeping position. But you were quite comfortable, so you didn’t bother with insisting he leave the couch.

In the morning, you woke up in the same position that you’d fallen asleep in, with your legs draped over Patrick’s lap as he sat up and snored.

You did your best not to disturb him as you got up and went about your morning routine, taking a shower and changing into something comfortable before heading back downstairs. You were surprised to find Patrick somehow still upright and asleep on your couch, but you didn’t question it too much. It had been a long day and night.

You brewed some coffee in the kitchen, making sure to leave a portion for your guest, before you grabbed the book you’d been reading and headed out to sit on your portion of the beach.

You’d lost track of time while sitting out there, listening to the sound of the ocean and getting caught up in the contents of your book. In fact, you’d gotten so lost in your book, that you hadn’t even noticed that you’d gained a presence on the beach.

After Patrick cleared his throat, you turned to look at him. A smile grew on your face as the two of you locked eyes, and you scooted to the left on your oversized beach chair. Surely, there was enough space for both of you.

He took your invitation and sat down next to you, glancing between you and the ocean as he settled in. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and occasionally peered down at your book, but otherwise didn’t bother you. The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, your chests rising and falling in sync with each other as the two of you lost track of time.

Maybe Patrick wasn’t such a terrible beach companion after all.

[syatbs]

Suck the Drug

summary: When Y/N wants to set farewells to her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, Nam-gyu, she uncovers something terrifying.

➳genre/au: Nam-gyu x reader [she/her, female anatomy}, smut, plotwist, 18+, Dom Namgyu, Dom Reader, explicit content.

➳ Word Count: 2.624k

Find me on Ao3 for more frequent updates.

“Don’t let that asshole foul you, Y/N.”

The words of my closest friend reverberated within my head like obnoxious little bells. She always tries to protect me from the painful outcomes, but I just don’t fucking listen.

 I was fully aware of where this relationship was leading, but I still chose to tear my insides apart until nothing remained but the empty words that I loved him.

Him… The guy who ignited a spark within my heart and the same one who purloined it like a thief in the night.

Nam-gyu.

That’s his name and crossness spurted in my chest. It was resentment for myself who melted at the thought of his name for a tad second. How the vision of his handsome features entering my mind, made my pulse hammer against the veins.

I was a lost cause, yet I was desperate for him.

Not in love as I thought when we first crossed paths. Just yearning for affection from a man who only gifted me with mixed signals and nothing else.

“What’s wrong?” A deep voice bloomed in the dim red room, my rumination fizzling out like the smoke of a cigarette.

Following the sound, I was met with two pairs of eyes. They had the deepest color, so dark that oftentimes I had the impression that what I was seeing was the abyss of the ocean… So deep like forbidden secrets that are banned from being professed.

I didn’t realize when I was pulled into a privet room, the loud music now becoming dull, and fainted through the soundproof walls that were enclosing us. I wasn’t even permitted a proper period to grasp what a terrible mistake I had just made… Where instead of being in my bed and asleep, I had visited the club Pentagon in search of a man I should be running away rather than lusting over.

It only dawned when Nam-gyu was between my legs with the purpose of pleasuring me. His long thin fingers that were clad with silver rings, grazed the inner side of my thighs, a peculiar expression creasing his handsome face. It was crystal clear that this man wanted to devour me whole, though when he saw I was spacing out, he seemed rather reluctant.

And it shouldn’t pester me one bit for the reason why Nam-gyu looked quite different from our past encounters.

Conversely, it did. A lot.

Though when that sensation festered me like a hurricane brimful of unfortunates, I shook my head mentally.

No. This time what I’m about to do is for my own selfish benefit. For once I will spoil myself without giving something in return.

In instinct, the edge of my lips was tugged into a smirk. “Nothing. Just the thought that we had a long time to see each other.”

Kissing now the exposed skin, I had to swallow a whimper.

“Is it?” Nam-gyu mused as his kittenish demeanor returned. His teeth skimmed over the inner of my thigh before sucking down lightly, only to draw away and leave his teeth marks on the other leg.

My back arched as I moaned and my French Manicure nails sunk into the velvet cushion of the sofa beneath me.

There was no more hesitation in his motives.

With hazy eyes, I stared at his fingers grazing the upper of my legs, while his mouth was busy leaving mark after mark, and traveled them up to the hem of my leather skirt.

“Look at you so eager… I started to believe that you actually missed me.” I teased, though there was some truth alongside my telling.

On the other hand, he didn’t waver to my words only to crane his neck and gaze up at me in a look that made butterflies waltz in my stomach.

“I always do.”

At that everything around me ceased, trapping me in an environment that was only just the two of us. No music from the speakers or laughter from the guests who were gliding outside. Every length of my body was now trembling as I was not able to contain the sadness that took over. I wondered if he was genuine or if it was another of his believable lies… To push me further in the obsession I have for him.

Before I could open my mouth and demand an answer to my troubles, his fingers disappeared into my short skirt, and hooking his index fingers at the edges of my panties he pushed them down to my legs. Then shoving them into the back pocket of his dark trousers, with a drag of my hips, Nam-gyu forced my wet pussy close to his face.

My bloodstream was now racing with the exhilaration of my heartbeat as blush crept on my cheeks. Despite being no stranger to this man, such intimating moments were always making me shy away.

I felt vulnerable, yet simultaneously, the most delectable woman in the club. It was ridiculous such ideation; therefore, it gave me a sense of power that I never knew existed.

“So fucking beautiful.” He rasped, his voice dropping an octave.

Parting my legs even wider, he darted out his tongue and licked the wetness that coated my walls since the very moment I spotted him in the club. He slowly traveled it up to my sensitive bud and sucked it between his front teeth before two fingers were shoved inside me in replace of his tongue.

They weren’t that deep and I had to move my hips in desperation to find some friction. Perversely my craves soon came to a halt when his free hand forced me to stay immobile.

“Nam-gyu…” I mewled his name.

In an instant, a growl rumbled within his chest as I knew that he was getting off with how addressed him by his first name. However, his hold didn’t grow slack. In lieu, he nibbled harshly on my clit, earning a scream from me.

When I threw him daggers, a lethal expression took over his exterior and drawled. “Patience is the key, Y/N. So be a good girl and take what I’m giving you.”

At that goosebumps blazed down my spine, his dominance having a foreign effect on me. In the past, our intimating moments weren’t so intense and ardent. There was no eye contact or words, merely the animus to bring ourselves into the high.

This time, however, he was acting on a different hue and to be frank, I didn’t like it. At all.  

Because it made me feel. Because this sudden meet-up was for me to visit him for one last time before I take our memories and burn them in the flames of what I call “moving on”. To forget for once and for all that, this man made me more alive than any other mortal being and not dwell on the webs he set for me, so he could keep me as his lover prisoner.

Placing my legs on the edge of the sofa, my fingers ran through his long dark hair, and taking a fistful I pulled until a low hiss fell from his lips.

“There is no patience if there is no time.” I heaved.

I could see my words echoing within his skull, and once he understood the message his jaw clenched.

He finally realized that what I was doing wasn’t our usual routine, where I visited the club where he works, getting railed, and once the building closed he would take me to his apartment so we could continue from there.  

It was a hook-up. A farewell to the failure of our relationship.

Once he makes me come undone, I will depart and never return.

In a trice, Nam-gyu’s nostrils flared as fury licked his dark orbs. His breaths became ragged, causing his chest to deflate and inflate in rapid rhythms that still simmer with control, and his face was stone-cold with a lingering vibration that screamed authority upon this situation.

Of his silence for a moment, I had the deliberation that he would leave me hanging sans doing something to complete my plan — to give me the upper hand and the satisfaction. But when his fingers curled inside me and deeper than previously, it settled in me that Nam-gyu was letting me win.

He pushed them in and out of me while our eyes were locked, and my lips parted in silent moans. With each second, my warm walls were clamping down his fingers like a vise, the craving to reach my climax more potent than ever.

By my eagerness, he picked his pace up, and dipping his head once again he sucked my clit hard. The sensitive bud was either flicked by his tongue or his teeth were lightly biting at it and when he noticed my legs starting to sake by his assault, he changed motive.

Replacing his fingers with his mouth, Nam-gyu was tongue-fucking me as his hands hooked around my legs to bring me closer to his face.

Conversely, one of my hands had been placed beneath my head while the other one was at his head — pushing him harder against my opening. My nails were scraping his skull and a low groan of his vibrated through me.

It was such a euphoria that I never wanted it to end. A Nirvana I never experienced before… Somehow it felt quite bitter when I knew it wasn’t a situation that would last, no matter how much I begged to maintain.

A pinch of my clit and his tongue being shoved in my pussy was all it took for me to cry out and my fluids to coat his lips and chin. My breaths had now turned uneven, the high I was entrapped had me spinning and seeing stars.

Our gazes never strayed from each other and the dim LED lights of the private room gave me a slight glimpse of my glistening arousal on his lips. Peculiarly, such a spectacle that was displayed in front of me made me wonder if I ever would be able to find a man so spellbinding as him.

A man who still shines with handsomeness notwithstanding the flaws that corrupt him whole.

Slowly or rather cagily, I took his hand and sucked his coated fingers clean. His eyes followed the movement of my pink tongue swirling around them as if what I was sucking was his veiny cock, and my Louboutin heel was planted on his sternum.

Letting his fingers with a pop, I pushed him harshly on the floor straddling him with my hips. Bewilderment overpowered his features when I reached for his belt.

He always was my Dom, though this time I will be the one to ruin him and ravish him.

Like an expert, I unbuckled the leather material around his waist, the sound of it snapping from his jeans’ loops, having him gasp silently. Smirking in his way, I seductively bent over my torso, my hot breath grazing over the shell of his ear.

“Wrap it around your throat.”

I could feel his body stiffen beneath me, a body language that spoke louder than words that signified he hated being controlled. Yet the tightness of the center of his trousers and hips slightly raising to dry hump my wet pussy was a hint that there was some liking at my sudden dominance.

Reluctantly, he took the belt and placed it around his neck giving me now the initiative to loop it through the buckle and pull it tight. So tight that the metal bit into his skin as the belt constricted.

Nam-gyu choked and his back arched as panic flashed before his vision, thus a single caress of my hand down to his cheekbone and a soothing voice, his muscles relaxed.

“Relax. You can breathe.”

With one hand now holding the edge of the belt like a leash, my other one found the zipper of his trousers and undone it, my palm pressed hard against the swollen of his manhood.

He was bigger than the average size, having my core skated with dark desires. I wanted his dick inside me, the sensation of being filled compelling me to move quicker and hastily. Without any further ado, I pulled out his swollen length from the waistband of his boxers, and giving a few strokes of my palm — while my thumb traced his pre-cum — I then rubbed it up and down my coated folds.

Soon, I sink into him, taking bit by bit every inch and my eyes roll at the back of my head as my opening burns at the sudden stretch of his thick length.

Once he was fully inside me, both of us groaned in unison.

“Y/N…” He growled once my hips started rocking against him. He attempted to grab and guide them with a more brutal bounce but a single tug of the belt restrained his efforts.

“Patience is the key, Nam-gyu. So be a good boy and take what I’m giving you.” Throwing his words back in his face, something dark gleamed in his eyes.

Beaming in his way, my hand was placed against his strong chest for stability and continued bouncing on his cock, as my head was lolled back. My pussy was basically screaming for another orgasm — to be filled with his cum and leave the room like a dirty whore.

The sound of skin hitting skin bloomed into the dim room, our panting breaths the melody in our silence.

Every unused muscle in me was aching with such intense hip movement, my eyes stinging in tears as my folds creamed and squeezed him. The orgasm wasn’t far afield and leaning to his way, I sucked the quick pulse in his neck. Lapping up his sweat and aroma that smelled like cigarettes, my lips crashed into his. I could taste myself on his tongue and like a grinding woman, I sucked it, fought it with my own, and flicked his bottom lip before ravishing it between my front teeth.

The taste of coppery was inserted into my mouth and I swear I could feel his erection growing even larger at the roughness my nature provides.

What I was doing was a silent message that tonight he was all mine. Mine to devour and mine to ruin. For one last time until another female has him as her own.

Soon my whole body had been paralyzed as the orgasm hit me like a thunderclap. I arched my back, driving my climax until the very end.

It surprised me when his hand snaked around my nape and pulled me once again for a kiss — with the difference that it was now softer and more loving. There was no rush between us and as we were breathing in each other’s pants, I released the belt.

His thumb wiped the red lipstick that I’m damn sure was now smudged and we looked at each other debating if we should withdraw or remain in this position for eternal eon.

Regrettably, his phone rang and he rolled his eyes in irritation.

“Sorry,” Nam-gyu apologized as I rolled over, already feeling the emptiness between my legs.

But it didn’t vex me when I found out that the one who was calling him was no other but his friend, Thanos. It troubled me when a card fell from the pockets of his jacket while he pulled out his phone.

A card with three shapes in the center. One circle, one triangle, and one square.

Since he was busy with the call, he didn’t notice that it had fallen out nor how my face paled at the sight. Because that card was no stranger to my eyes since I already had one.

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

ITS EVOLUTION, BABY !

pairings ⸺Yandere! Justice League! x Inmortal!Fem!reader.

couple of today! ⸺Yandere! Kal-El x Inmortal! Fem! Reader

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ You had seen it all. From the first whisper of life in the primordial oceans to the deafening buzz of the modern era. Every advancement, every innovation, a heavier burden on your shoulders. Nothing surprised you anymore; everything was predictable and monotonous, so you found refuge in a small apartment in the heart of Metropolis, away from the bustling human nonsense.

Until one day a flying bus crushed you.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, Religion, murdering, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Discrimination, War, Street Fights, Gaslight, Suicide, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Kidnapping, NSFW, Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia, Manipulation.

A/N — Bah, just another story pulled from my imagination after dancing all afternoon to Pearl Jam songs while cleaning the house.

This land is mine, this land is free

I'll do what I want but irresponsibly

▪︎Your immortality is neither epic nor glorious. You were not born from the stars or from scientific labs. There was no cosmic ray, no magic potions, no caped heroes to save you. Your existence is simple, without ornamentation.

▪︎You are water.

▪︎Or, to be more precise, you were a microscopic being living in a drop of water attached to a wandering meteorite that roamed through the void, in the infinite silence of space, before arriving on Earth. In that tiny liquid bubble, you were happy, surrounded by other beings who knew neither pain nor time. Everything was calm.

▪︎Until one day, your home plummeted toward the planet you would come to know as Earth.

▪︎There your true evolution began.

▪︎Millions of years passed, and you witnessed it all. You observed the first spark of life in the primordial oceans, the giant reptiles crawling across the continents, and the hominids standing upright on two legs. With each evolutionary cycle, you adapted, but you always remained, indifferent to the passage of time. Nothing truly affected you… Until Martha appeared.

▪︎Martha was your youngest daughter, for now. At eighty years old, Martha was the only thing you had left in this world that no longer mattered to you. Time, that relentless enemy that did not touch you, was wreaking havoc on her. Wrinkles adorned her face, her hands trembled as she knitted. But she made you feel something you thought you had forgotten: humanity. Martha kept you anchored to a world that had become irrelevant to you.

▪︎You did not live in Metropolis with her because she had her own life, and you spent your time wandering to every corner of the earth. Aimless and without a home to sleep in.

▪︎But you decided to visit her when you learned from her husband that she was in the hospital. It wasn’t serious, but she was the most important thing you had, and even at eighty years old, she would still be your little sweet baby.

▪︎Your journey was calm; listening to rock bands and old songs relaxed you. Nothing could disturb your zen state.

▪︎But then came the bus. The fucking bus.

▪︎An empty bus flew out from a nearby building, a flash of blue and red, and chaos erupted in the streets. Superman, facing Lex Luthor, knocked a bus right onto you. One second of distraction and you were crushed, like a puppet torn to pieces.

▪︎Your blood spilled onto the pavement and the broken glass of your car, which was now nothing more than scrap metal.

▪︎Superman, the defender of justice, landed right next to your car, using his infrared vision to see your mangled body inside the vehicle.

▪︎His face filled with horror.

▪︎Why always an innocent person? A choked sob, his eyes full of remorse as he saw you, a pool of blood and broken bones.

▪︎It was not the first time he had a lapse, but it was the first time it cost a human and innocent life.

▪︎The worst part was that you were young, with a long life ahead of you, and his carelessness took that gift away. What would happen to your family when they found out? How would they feel knowing that Superman, the so-called greatest hero, couldn’t save you?

▪︎He was devastated.

▪︎Until, to his surprise, you got up. Your body began to regenerate, bones rejoining, skin closing over the wounds. Superman watched you in disbelief, his hands trembling.

▪︎“Can’t you really be more careful?” you said, your voice filled with exhaustion, brushing off the dust as if nothing had happened. The hero was left speechless. You were immortal.

▪︎That was where it all began.

A/N - And well, this is just a little Headcanon that might turn into a series (hopefully not, because it would be way too long)

I’ll upload more soon, as well as another DC Yandere series. I’ll also post a few updates to explain some things—no need to read them, but it would be app

P.S.: If you’re a reader of the Silly Little Bat series, don’t worry. I’ll upload chapter three soon.

Don’t forget, if you want to request something, the shop is open

Take a bath!

[ennabear]

− ⌗ CATALINA ISLAND ⊹∿

cw: catalina!abby/mamabear!abby/loser!abby/sub!abby, yara mention (i’m sorry… we miss u babygirl), slight themes of homophobia but nothing too heavy, post-pillars timeline so abby has short hair and no muscles, abby falls first but reader falls harder, tribbing eventually… 🙏 (not proofread)

wc: 6.0k

quite vividly does abby remember the first time she saw you. bright overhead lights stabbed through her vision, gloved fingers and cold metal tools poked and prodded at her extremely burnt, extremely sensitive skin. but not you, you were gentle with her. speaking in a hushed voice that comforted the dull ache crawling up her head, hands keeping their distance from her sore and aching body.

she felt at ease. for the first time in… months? years? decades? suddenly the weight of previous events didn’t seem so heavy. she felt lighter, calmer, unafraid. but maybe it was just the morphine making her feel this way, because she passed back out minutes after having this epiphany.

“abby…” the boy whispered. she didn’t hear it, too deep in her slumber to respond.

“abbyyyyyy, wake up.” he pleaded. nudging her sides and arms in an attempt to wake her. still, her rest was uninterrupted.

“ABBY!” he finally shouted, yanking her braid in despair.

“j’sus christ, lev, wha’ddyou want?” she yawned. one benefit of living out at sea was that there were never any threats out there. other than the occasional storm, they were completely safe, and abby could let her guard down for the first time in what felt like forever.

“come look at the stars with me.” he demanded, pointing to the front of the boat.

“are you serious?” abby asked, somewhat furious she got woken up for this, but could she blame him? his childlike wonder provided a refreshing new perspective. and as abby always said, lev used to live under a rock, so she was always happy to introduce him to new things, although his lack of general knowledge sometimes startled her.

“come on, please?” he added. “i’ve never seen them so bright before, pleaseee?”

abby huffed and got up, grabbing her blanket and taking it with her, already predicting lev would be shivering in an instant. and she was right. somehow, in the middle of the pacific ocean, the sun beating down on them for 12 hours a day, lev was always cold.

she took a seat on the deck next to him, wrapping the blanket around the two of them as they stared up into the sky. it was beautiful, she had to admit. it was hard to see the stars this clearly on land, and seeing the whole galaxy like this was such a treasure. it never stopped, no buildings or mountains concealing the sky, it was just pure space for miles.

they were silent for a while, lev looking up at the night sky with wide eyes, and abby still trying to shake the sleepiness from her mind.

“…abby?” lev asked after a while.

“yeah?” she responded.

“do you believe in a god?”

she debated this for a while. what a tricky question. did she want to believe? yes. 1,000%. but did she believe? … did she? does she? will she?

“i’m not sure.” she says. “no, i guess not.”

“i do. and i think that’s where yara is right now.”

oh. abby’s face falls, it’s always tough to think about lev’s sister. sure, she died a hero, but she shouldn’t have. she was so young, so strong, so determined, intelligent, kind, strategic, resilient. abby never knew her very well, but she replays the conversation she had with yara quite often. she wishes so badly she could’ve saved her, but at the end of the day it’s permanent. a script written in ink, a final decision.

if there is a god, i swear i’m gonna kill him she thinks.

“do you see that star?” lev asks, pointing up to an extra luminescent star twinkling brighter than the rest of them. “i think that’s her.” he continues. “and she’s always with us.”

abby huffs a laugh and stands, returning back to bed. “i don’t believe in all that.”

lev has no choice but to chase after her if he wants the warmth of the blanket back, so he does. “maybe your dad is up there too.” he states truthfully, climbing into bed next to her. her arms wrap around him as she settles back into slumber. “maybe,” she says. “or maybe he’s just gone.”

“do you ever miss him?” lev asks.

“every day. more than anything.” and suddenly she’s asleep again.

“abby?”

“abby?” …..

“ABBY!” the voice asks again, and suddenly she’s wide awake. she’s not on the boat with lev anymore, instead she’s… in a hospital? or an office? somewhere too bright that smells too much of disinfectant.

“it was just a dream,” you soothe, shushing her pained whimpers and cries. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

she looks over to you, one of the sweetest sights she’s ever seen. “i’ve seen you before.” she whispers.

you smile and pat her hands, abby is one of your favorite patients. being on narcotics for weeks makes for an easy client, all you really do is change her bandages and occasionally silence her night terrors. you’ve actually gotten to know her quite well from her… son? you still don’t know the full story on that, apparently she betrayed the entire washington liberation front to adopt him and his sister, and that she’s been a better caretaker to him than his biological mother ever has been. but you can see in her youthful features that she’s still young. too young to be a mother. and lev cringes at the thought of calling her mom.

“where am i?” she asks, voice gravelly from being asleep for so long.

“catalina island critical care unit.” you respond gently. “or, CICCU, but i don’t wanna confuse you with too many letters.”

“where’s lev?” she asks frantically, suddenly fully aware that she’s not in the same room as him right now.

“he’s okay. sleeping. it’s pretty late.”

“was i talking?” she asks, cringing at the thought of someone as perfect as you listening to her blabber in her sleep.

“no, not this time. but i always prefer your talking over your screaming.” you joke.

“what do i talk about?” she asks, although not sure she wants to hear the answer.

“lev mostly. sometimes others, usually ‘manny’ and ‘alice’.”

“oh.” she sighs. she feels so much better compared to the night she first saw you. was that when she arrived? whatever, she can’t remember anything other than you. her muscles aren’t sore anymore, her skin feels cooler and softer, finally.

“you should go back to sleep.” you say. “your body needs the rest, and i’m not really supposed to be talking to my patients anyways.”

she raises an eyebrow at this. “why’s that?”

“my social skills are no good, that’s why they put me on the night shift. i’m not sweet or gentle enough for daytime caretaking.”

blasphemy. you? not sweet or gentle? this is the first time in her whole life she’s felt truly comfortable, and it’s all because of you. she closes her eyes, willing herself to get more rest before she sees you again.

her daytime nurse fucking sucks. she’s an old lady with a scratchy voice, not deep and smooth like yours. and she’s mean. abby always catches her talking shit about other doctors at the hospital, and it’s not even normal stuff like gossip or personal experience and whatnot, she takes real jabs at the people in the community, coming for their looks and personalities. worst of all, the mean nurse hates you.

she always chatters on about how you can never do your job correctly, and apparently you’re wasting all of god’s honor by not being married yet. but it’s not until the mean nurse mentions “sleeping around with… females…” that she finally listens to what the mean nurse is saying, and she has a strong feeling she relates to you just fine.

abby sighs in relief when you walk in for your night shift. you catch this, giggling a little “what was that about?”

“i hate the other nurse.” she pouts, grimacing at the thought of seeing her again when dusk turns to dawn.

“who, dr. cosby?” you ask.

“yeah, if that’s her name.”

“i don’t like her either,” you admit. “but she’s the only one completely trained in full time caretaking.”

“do you have to work with her?” abby asks, growing slightly defensive over you. she’s gotten to know you over the past few days, too, and you’ve been able to fill in some of the gaps from the stories lev has told you.

“yeah, almost every day. she’s kinda like my boss since she’s training me, but she doesn’t pay me or anything… which kinda makes it worse. i feel like i deserve an extra paycheck for putting up with her.” you laugh.

abby still can’t get over your laugh, the sweet, deep giggles that seem to float out of you like bubbles. abby doesn’t realize this yet, but she has a huge crush on you.

“anyways, you’re supposed to be asleep, anderson.” you accuse, pointing a jokingly angry finger at her.

“yeah, yeah, i know.” she says, sighing deeply. “but i missed you, and i wanted to see you again after the mean nurse.”

“that’s sweet.” you start. “but if the mean nurse finds out you haven’t been sleeping because of me, i’m fired. and they’ll replace me with someone worse.”

abby laughs, pulling a pillow over her face to cover her giggles, and falls into another restful sleep after a few minutes.

she manages to survive a few more days with dr. cosby. or, the mean nurse, in the vocabulary the two of you share. the only thing that makes it bearable is knowing she’ll see you every night, and lev even visits her sometimes. tonight is different, though, because you don’t walk in at 9:00 pm when you’re regularly scheduled. dr. cosby does. abby groans audibly, she wishes she would’ve done it louder. well, she wishes she could scream in dr. cosby’s face, but she isn’t trying to get kicked out of the CICCU before she’s fully healed.

“usual nurse is out.” the mean nurse spits. ‘usual nurse’? so she can’t find the courtesy to learn your name?

“out where?” abby questions.

“on a… date.” she hisses.

oh shit, abby grins. a date with a woman i bet. dr. cosby isn’t happy about that.

and then it hits her.

oh shit… abby frowns. you’re on a date with someone else right now. you decided to spend the night with another woman, ditching your usual visits with abby. this hurts. her heart twists with jealousy, suddenly the room is spinning, and she has to turn and face the wall before dr. cosby can catch her weeping into her blanket like a little kid.

abby hasn’t seen you once since the night before your date. when the mean nurse comes back in the morning, she discharges abby and orders a soldier to escort her to the lodge she and lev are to share. so that’s it? she’s never gonna see you again? lev is out at school when she gets there, so abby has the whole place to herself until he gets back. she finds herself staring into the mirror for an unhealthy amount of time. christ, she looks different. her hair is short and choppy, although it’s gotten longer since she’s arrived. her muscles are almost completely gone. whatever the lack of training couldn’t remove, malnutrition withered away. she has scars all over her face and arms, her skin is still bumpy and blistered from the overexposure to the california sun. she looks… smaller? not tall and buff and scary anymore, but weak. fragile. she doesn’t look like abby. and that’s a terrifying thought.

she spends about an hour in the shower, scrubbing the hospital scent off of her skin and running her fingers through her short hair. she decides to spent the rest of the day orienting herself in this new space. she’s never lived in a real house before, and she feels like an alien trying to do so. lev finds her laying on the couch, studying the bumps and ridges in the ceiling.

“abby?” he calls from the doorway, slinging his backpack off of his shoulders. the poor kid almost cries when he sees her, out of excitement or fear, nobody knows. abby tries to pick him up as he throws himself at her body, but she can’t anymore. she doesn’t have the strength with how much she’s been weakening and how much lev has been growing. this crushes her even more, but she settles for a firm squeeze to the kid, and realizes how much her ribs do still hurt.

she doesn’t sleep well that night, it’s not the same without you. she misses your heavy voice lulling her to sleep and the euphoria she got from laughing with you. something deep and heavy settles in her stomach when she remembers you now spend your nights with someone else. she’s jealous. and she’s sad. overwhelmed from being in such a new place. and she misses you. and tonight when she sleeps, it’s dreamless and restless and leaves her even more exhausted.

you miss abby. you didn’t know the night you were gone would be the night she got discharged, and you wonder if this is a coincidence or if it’s some evil plan from dr. cosby. your date wasn’t even a date anyways. the girl you were meeting showed up to the diner, but left after a few minutes after saying she needed to freshen up. you saw her leave out of the back door. so you snacked on soggy fries and day-old fish until you got fed up and went home and cried into your pillow. was dr. cosby right? are you really not likable? to make matters worse, now that abby is gone you don’t have any more easy patients. you have to take care of a snappy old man who was in a boating accident. nobody can tell if he’s suffering from brain damage or if he’s just stupid, and it’s starting to drive you mad.

you miss abby. you miss watching her sleep, how her sweet face would contort into an expression of pure bliss as she finally had a peaceful dream, and how sometimes she would reach out and hold your hand for a few hours while she slept. she might be the only person on this whole island who likes you.

you two don't run into each other for about a month. the community you live in is small, but the whole island is divided into communities of about the same size. abby is sentenced to a desk job, something she'd never seen herself doing. she spends all day crunching numbers, scribbling things down on various documents and punching in even more symbols on her calculator. she's surprisingly good at it, her brain works efficiently and she's incredible at finding mistakes and working through them. lev teases her about becoming a nerd, but he's the one who voluntarily stays after school for tutoring, so she teases him right back.

you run into her right before one of your shifts, picking up a prescription from the pharmacy and dropping by her workplace to pick up some more documents. you freeze in your tracks when you see her, awkwardly blurting out an "abby! wow, uh... you look good."

and it's true. she looks better than good, she's glowing. her hair looks softer and fluffier now that it's not matted from the pillows, her skin is clearing up and restoring its natural color (which is a lot more peaceful than the burnt red it was), and she looks fuller. not nearly as big and muscular as she used to be, but she's started to gain some weight back and finally doesn't look tiny. abby notices you staring, taking in her new appearance. "thanks... so do you." she chuckles.

"i didn't know they cleared you to work." you stammer. actually, you didn't know anything about her ever since she was suddenly good to go, which you've decided is definitely dr. cosby's fault. so the two of you spend the rest of the night chatting and catching up with one another. she tells you about her job, her house, and how good lev is doing in school. you tell her about some of your newest patients, and when she asks about your date, you find pleasure in telling her that it was terrible. abby feels giddy after hearing this, not that she gets a kick out of your humiliation, but she's happy to know that you're single, and that you regret ditching her that night.

the time completely slips away from both of you, and before you know it you're an hour late for work. "shit!" you jump. "god, i'm sorry. i gotta go, i'm about to get fired!" you cry as you run down the hallway and out of the building. she laughs at this, tidying up her desk before clocking out and waking herself home. she sleeps very well that night, knowing that you're single and that you're willing to be late to work just to talk to her.

she greets you two days later with coffee outside of your office. "glad to see you didn't get fired." she jokes, you roll your eyes. "if i get written up one more time i'm done for." neither of your bosses are in today, so you finally have some peace to do your job without being yelled at. when you're not meeting with a patient, you let abby follow you around like a lost puppy, you notice how soft her hands have become when you grab them and tug her along next to you.

"thanks?" she mutters, cheeks sparkling with a pretty pink blush.

"oh, shit, i didn't mean to say that out loud." you cringe. "but it's true. they're very soft."

abby blushes impossibly more at this, so you like her hands? does that... mean anything? you're so forward with her it makes her a little dizzy, it's hard to keep up with your subtle flirtatious remarks when she can barely look at you without stuttering and tripping over herself. you're like a savior to her. you are her savior, if you didn't patch her up after her and lev had arrived, would she still be here? if she didn't get eaten alive by an infection she might've offed herself after the countless exhausting interactions with the mean nurse.

“how did you know how i take my coffee?” you ask suddenly. abby doesn’t know how to answer. well, she does, actually. but she’s too shy to say that sometimes she’d wake up and watch you while she was supposed to be sleeping. you’d place your coffee cup on her nightstand and flick on the lamp next to it, and then instantly stick your nose in a book. when she got done studying your face, she memorized the books you liked and the coffee you drank.

“if you’re stalking me, i won’t be upset.” you joke. abby laughs awkwardly, still calculating her answer in her mind.

“i dunno, i just know you, i guess.” she finally responds.

“fair, but now i feel bad because i don’t know how you take your coffee.” you frown. she chuckles, dismissing your concern.

“no, seriously. i feel like i barely know you, and i miss getting to know you ever since the mean nurse discharged you the night i was out.” you tell her. she can’t see where you’re going with this, so she just freezes and waits for you to make it obvious. “we should go out for coffee sometime. this weekend, maybe, if you’re free.”

are you asking her on a date? platonically or romantically? do you actually like her as much as she likes you? abby stares at the ground as she thinks about what to say again. “if you don’t want to, that’s okay.” you smile. “i won’t be offended.”

“i-” she starts, trying to speak deliberately as to not stumble over her words. “i do want to. that would be really great.”

you plant a kiss on her cheek as she turns to leave, heading to her own job instead of yours. she barely registers it, giggling and swatting you away before realizing that you kissed her. she halts her stroll when she finally processes it, reaching her fingers up to feel over the spot your lips pressed to. her cheeks turn beet red as she replays what happened, and fuck, she wants you to do it again. she debates running back into the hospital to beg for another kiss, but decides not to make a fool of herself. not today, at least.

her shift passes in what feels like forever. she wants to see you again, she wants it to be the weekend so badly. curse the calendar for deeming today a thursday, and curse your work schedule for not letting you go on a date with her now.

she clocks out excitedly as soon as her shift is over, practically jogging home to meet lev for dinner. they eat on the couch, watching some old dvd of a pre-breakout day cartoon. lev falls asleep as the show crawls on, so she has to face the disappointment of shaking him awake, wishing she still had the strength to pick him up. she watches as he waddles with all ten of his blankets to his bedroom, and then collects the dishes to scrub them off in the sink.

just as sleep is about to take her, she bolts awake with a great idea. shoving her shoes on, she jogs back out of the door, practically sprinting to the hospital to catch you before you clock in for the night. when you see her standing behind you, you jump backwards and yelp, almost knocking over a cart full of needles. “god, abby!” you curse. “you scared the shit outta me.”

“sorry…” she smiles sheepishly, a look you’ve grown to love.

“what are you doing here?” you question. “are you hurt?”

“no, i just wanted to see you. i couldn’t sleep, if that counts as an ailment.” she says, lying through her teeth. she was about to sleep soundly knowing your date was only in a few days.

“well, i’m glad to know you’re okay, but you really need to work on prioritizing your sleep.” you scold her, but you can’t help but melt at the dopey smile on her lips.

“yes, doctor.” she laughs, rolling her eyes. “are we still on for this weekend?”

“of course, if you’re not a zombie by the time we get to saturday.” you smile, nudging her with your elbow.

“alright, sorry,” she sighs theatrically. “i guess i’ll leave you alone now.”

“i’m sorry for kissing you on the cheek earlier.” you blurt out, although you probably should just let the moment be. “it was just… muscle memory i guess.”

“muscle memory?” she asks, dumbfounded.

“i dunno, sorry, it was definitely inappropriate. but you used to ask me for a small peck whenever i woke you up from your night terrors. i’d be surprised if you remember it, though. we had you on some pretty hefty meds.”

abby has always had trouble sleeping. as a kid, she’d have terrible nightmares that she couldn’t wake up from on her own. her dad would nudge her awake, and then soothe her back to sleep with a firm kiss on the cheek. it helped every time, and she slept like a baby knowing her dad would protect her. after he passed, the nightmares were more frequent, and there was no one to calm her down once she woke.

that must’ve been why she’d wake up screaming, eyes open yet unable to focus as you calmed her down to the best of your ability. you’d take her heart rate and blood pressure to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary, and then stroke her short hair while she fell back to sleep. she’d huff and kick for the first few minutes, and then reach out for your hand, guiding it to the apple of her cheek. you thought at first she wanted something cool against her burning skin, but once you moved your hand away, she demanded a kiss in a raspy and very delirious voice.

“no, it’s okay, really.” she assures you. “it’s a comfort thing i used to do with my dad. you don’t need to feel bad, i promise.”

“go to sleep, princess abby.” you demand again. “i’ll see you saturday.”

with a smirk, abby turns and walks back out the door she came in. she slips back through her front door as silently as she can, and falls asleep thinking about all the ways she’s embarrassed herself in front of you. how many more times can she do it? and how long until she cuts the shit and admits her feelings for you?

saturday comes quicker than abby would like. ever since that night, she couldn’t help but fret about your feelings toward her. did you really kiss her out of muscle memory, or did you genuinely want to? her heart warmed at the sweet gesture of you soothing her back to sleep on the nights her dreams were infiltrated with death and fear and abandonment, but did you do that with all of your patients?

she tried to ignore these thoughts as they came up, but it was nearly impossible to. she dressed herself in a beige sweater and a pair of jeans, tucking her hair behind her ears and accessorizing with a black hair clip. she looks gorgeous. it’s hard not to faint when you see her, the fluttering in your stomach keeping you on your feet.

the pair of you sit tucked away in a cafe booth, chatting away like time isn’t real. you’re surprised to learn that abby knows quite a bit about medicine, the knowledge coming from her father who was a doctor too. she tells you stories of her childhood, and you can see the resemblance between her and her dad, she treats lev just as well as her dad treated her. you don’t mention this, though, because you can tell she’s starting to tear up the more she talks about him.

when the conversation slows down, you decide to bite the bullet and ask her something that’s been on your mind. “abby? can i ask you something?”

“shoot.” she says.

“do you… like me?” you try. “i mean— i dunno. i’ve never really had friends before, not like you. i guess i just wanna know if you enjoy hanging out with me, or if you’re just doing this because i seem desperate.”

“of course i like you.” she affirms. “i’ve never met anyone as sweet or as gentle as you, and i’ve met a lot of people.”

“okay, cool. good. i like you too.” you say, reaching out to grab her hand that’s resting on the table. she smiles and squeezes your hand, looking deeply into your eyes.

“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask.

sand fills the holes in your shoes as the two of you stroll the beach hand in hand. abby still has that giddy feeling in her stomach, although she still can’t tell if you’re actually into her or if you just wanna be friends. you did mention just friends earlier, but you’re also holding her hand sweetly in yours.

you don’t know how to explain your feelings for abby. she’s such a sweet girl, and she’s a few years younger than you. you want her all to yourself, you want to take all of her pain and suffering away and start a family with her. you wanna run away with her and live in a small beach house together. but is that crazy? you’ve only known her for about four months at this point, how long is too long to wait? how long is too short? you don’t wanna overwhelm her, she just started a completely new life after escaping seattle where all of her friends and family were murdered in front of her. it’s obvious she’s still grieving, missing the family she created and the life she had.

when you reach the top of the hill, you sit and dangle your feet off of the mini cliff, looking out at the horizon painted in front of you. abby takes a seat next to you, wrapping both of her hands around yours. you smile at her, proud of how far she’s come ever since rolling in half-dead and practically fried. she looks human now, and she looks really… pretty.

“you flatter me too much.” she says with a shy smile.

you groan. jesus christ, you need to stop thinking out loud before it kills you.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to make things weird.” you cringe again.

“it’s not weird. i think you’re pretty too.”

your heart skips a beat at this. it’s too late, your habit of thinking out loud is about to kill you right now. because your lips are on abby’s and you’re kissing her with all of your might. her lips taste like honey and coffee, a sweet mix of flavors that you’ll crave for the rest of your life.

“is it weird that i just kissed my doctor?” she asks.

“i’m not your doctor. i’m the crazy person who’s job was to watch you sleep in case you had seizures or heart attacks.”

she giggles at this, leaning in to capture your lips in another sweet kiss. you both stay there until sunset, giggling and kissing and chatting like little kids in love.

to your dismay, you get up and leave as soon as the sunset fades, not wanting to be stranded at sea in pitch black darkness. abby walks you home, arm thrown over your shoulders. you frown when you reach your own cabin, not wanting to leave her. “can i see you tomorrow?” you ask, praying she’ll say yes.

“of course,” she says. “i’ll be here.”

it’s impossible for you to sleep after the incredible day you just had. you keep licking your lips in hope that the honey-coffee taste will still be lingering, but it’s not. tomorrow can’t come soon enough, and now you feel bad for teasing abby about her lack of sleep because you finally get it.

abby sleeps soundly tonight. all of her fears are dissolved floating away like ashes in the wind. she feels free. finally ready to start a new chapter of her life now that she’s escaped the tragedies from seattle and the torture from santa barbara.

you wake up bright and early the next morning, showering and cooking and cleaning and dressing yourself as efficiently as you can. the excitement of seeing her again fuels your motivation, but once your whole lodge is spotless, it’s hard to find something to do with your energy. you sigh in relief when abby knocks on your door ten minutes early, her brain must be in sync with yours.

as you open the door, you practically jump into her arms. she pulls you in for a big bear hug, seeming to have missed you just as much as you’ve missed her.

you have nothing planned, so you snack on a box of cookies while sitting in bed, staring out of the window that overlooks the ocean. it’s a gloomy day, but it’s nice to people watch and gossip about various things you’ve heard through the grapevine.

after a while you get tired, and abby lets you rest your head on her shoulder in case you wanna fall asleep. you don’t, though. no matter how heavy your eyelids get, you force yourself to enjoy every second that passes with her. well, there is something you wanna do with her, but you’re not too sure how she feels about it.

“abby? can i ask you another weird question?”

“always.” she laughs.

“do you wanna have sex with me?”

her heart thrums harder in her chest, and heat spreads from her cheeks to her ears.

“sorry, i shouldn’t ha—”

“yes.” she interrupts. “but, i— it’s been a while. i’m not very… i dunno…”

“if you don’t want to it’s fine.” you assure her. “it’s also fine if you wanna just lay there and let me do the work, i don’t mind.”

she nods at the second option, leaning back and throwing her shirt off while you do the same. her abdomen is less bloody and bruised than you remember, but you can still see her ribs and a few scars. she blushes when she catches you staring, leaning back timidly.

“don’t be nervous, abby. i’m a doctor, i’ve seen bodies. especially yours, and i think you’re beautiful.”

she blushes harder at this, but laughs and says “i thought you were a creepy nurse who watches people sleep, not a doctor.”

you giggle and shut her up with a kiss, reaching down to unbutton her jeans. “can i?” you ask.

“yes, please, fuck.”

as soon as you get her jeans down, you tug her boxers down too. sure you should wait, and it might be polite to engage in a little foreplay, but you’re craving her right now. her bush is curly in the center, right where is dripping wet, and she has a beautiful blonde happy trail that crawls all the way up to her belly button. she’s so hot you might need an oxygen tank.

“the quicker you stop staring and fuck me, the quicker we can get you that oxygen tank.” she laughs.

“oh god… i didn’t mean to say that. again.”

you tug your own underwear off and sit your cunt right on top of hers. abby intertwines her legs with yours, and the angle lets you slide across her perfectly. “jesus christ.” she moans, currently unable to control the noises she’s making.

she’s so sensitive it drives you mad. the last time she hooked up with anyone was more than a year ago, and ever since then she’s been prioritizing keeping herself alive over jacking off. whenever your clits bump, you feel a small, warm splash of her squirt against your cunt, and it makes you more aroused than you’ve ever been.

it gets very messy very quickly. your lips crash together in a heated and very wet kiss, and your cunts are creating a pile of slick that’s currently dripping down abby’s ass and making a puddle on the bed. you can’t tell if you’re dizzy because of your arousal, sleepiness, or love for her, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

abby cums after only a few minutes, and when she does she twitches and writhes and squeals so much you think you might have to sedate her. you keep grinding on her until you cum, which quickly overstimulates her even further until you’re almost positive she’s blacked out or something.

when you come down from your own high, you scoot yourself off of her. two clear strings of slick connect you to her, but eventually break and drip down onto the bed. she sighs when you lay next to her.

“was that good?” you ask.

“fuck. i think i need the oxygen mask more than you do.” she pants. you laugh and wrap your arms around her, ready to get a few minutes of cuddling in before you force your aftercare routine upon her.

she sighs. “thanks for taking care of me.”

“you know i’ll always take care of you, abby. right? just because i’m not your nurse anymore doesn’t mean i don’t love you anymore.”

“you love me?”

“ever since the day i met you.”

[whereforarthur]

So Much Restraint

Request: george (dom) smut where we have been on a group holiday and stopping ourselves from having sex cos of the other ppl (staying in the same villa/b&b) but once we get home its like practically clawing at each others clothes

Pairing: George Clarkey x Gf!Reader

Category: Smut

Word Count: 3.2k

*****

Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained. - William Blake

George leaned against the railing of the villa balcony, his gaze following the boundary between the sea, which was as blue as the ocean, and the sky above. After daybreak, the warm hue of the blazing sun engulfed the clouds, displacing the surging sea below that had looked so blue at the break of dawn. The warm wind blew through a coconut palm, and one could detect the smell of the sea and tropical cream. He sighed and glanced at the heavens, taking in the final moments of solitude before the party commenced.

The past week was a rollercoaster of enjoyment and annoyance. He and his girlfriend, y/n, had to restrain themselves from giving in to each other so as not to disturb their mates on vacation, just nodding and winking at each other as they walked around the living spaces with their friends—Chris, Arthur Hill, and Arthur TV. The villa was very nice, but with people constantly around them, there was no way of giving in to the passion that had been threatening to ignite ever since they set foot in the villa.

As the sun set that evening, George was weak, wanting to give in to his desires. It was a standoff, a power struggle that had been going on all week, one that was palpable yet wordless. As he got up, he saw Y/N standing at the door as she looked straight at him, suggesting that she was fighting the same battle as him. She wore a light summer dress that hugged her curves perfectly.

“It's time for dinner,” Y/N whispered, her words resonating melodiously. ”They are waiting for us downstairs.”

George nodded, yet neither of them looked away from the other. “I know,” he said quietly, the roughness in his tone giving her goosebumps. "I can only imagine what we are going to get up to once we get home."

Silence filled the space between them when he moved closer, and despite the heat in the villa, he only wanted her closer. As if in response, Y/N’s hand slowly extended, touching his chest lightly and causing his spine to tingle.

George saw her looking back at him, and for what felt like hours but could only be a few seconds, an incredible sensation engulfed his entire body and mind. He pulled her closer, the touch of his lips on hers hard and passionate. This was the kiss of love, of desire, the kiss that had been waiting to happen and which was ready to unleash after being pent up for this long.

But as soon as they started, they stopped. Hearing the boy's laughter from the pool below pulled them back into reality. They separated hesitantly, both attempting to calm themselves down. “We can’t,” Y/N whispered, her cheeks burning red.

“I know,” he said, calming her down as he took her hand. “When we get home, I will show you exactly how much I’ve missed you.” It was in his voice that she found the assurance she needed, and with that, she pulled him closer, her arms around his neck as they kissed.

They disappeared from each other for a while; the sound of their pulse echoed with the thump of the sea waves. They were able to keep it to themselves, and the anticipation of the arrangement made it seem like a couple’s promise.

At dinner, they had to wade through desire, circle it like a choreographed dance, sit across from each other at the table with friends, laugh, and chat about the delicious meal and wonderful company. But every time George cast his gaze at Y/N, he could see the same desire in her eyes.

After the meal, they made their excuses, claiming jet lag and the need for an early night. The boys raised their eyebrows in amusement but said nothing.

In their room, George and Y/N took turns in the shower, the sound of water a tantalizing backdrop to their stolen kisses and gentle touches.

Once Y/N emerged, her skin dewy and smelling faintly of coconut, George found his resolve slipping once more. They were both sitting on the edge of the bed; their legs were entangled; they felt the insatiable desire to strip each other. “We can do this,” George whispered, his fingers rubbing through her wet hair. "We can wait; we’ve made it this far."

Y/N breathed in deeply and exhaled, nodding her head slightly. “We have to,” she repeated, her voice a little weary as desperation began to creep in. "If we start now, I don't know if we would ever be able to stop."

They stretched out on the bed, their naked bodies rigid with the agitation of unsatisfied desire. The villa was silent apart from the faint sound of the sea in the distance and laughter from the party in the streets. They could feel the adrenaline pumping through their veins and could virtually hear the sound of their hearts beating.

George’s fingers lightly touched Y/N’s inner thigh, lazing dangerously close to the line of her shorts. "The boys are already complaining about the noises we make at home," he said, though he couldn’t fully hide his amusement. “What would they say if they only knew we have been holding ourselves back?”

Y/N blushed at the thought, gripping the sheets beneath her tightly. “We’ve got to be so much louder at home,” she said, though there was obvious affront in her words. "It will make them think that we have gone mad.”

They smiled at each other, and the tension reduced for a while. But the underlying current persisted; it was an active, waiting-to-detonate-at-any-moment kind of omnipresent tension. George looked down at her and then placed his hand softly over her thighs, delicately tracing lines on her skin. He immediately stopped his movements and faced her as he whispered, “It doesn’t matter what they say.” He smirks at her, “As long as you’re screaming my name.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with delight, and she couldn’t help but gasp at what he said. It was a familiar move, a classic sign of affection, but she went further to touch his face, specifically the line of his jaw, a touch that seemed to power through him like volts of electricity. ‘And what about when we get home?’ she whispered. For many, a dangerous question is the provocative “What do you want to do to me?”

George squeezed her thigh gently and looked at her with lustful eyes. “Everything,” he said, his voice turning into a growl. ”I wish to devour every part of you, have you quiver in my embrace, and hear you scream out my name until your throat gets sore.”

Y/N felt her heart racing just at the thought of it, her pulse rate rising through the roof as high as it could go. "Won't the boys still be home?” she asked, her fingers tracing over his hand.

George chuckled darkly. “Oh, they will hear us alright,” he responded, his eyes alternating between naughtiness and amusement. “But it’s ‘our’ house and ‘our’ rules.” The words slither through the air like a sultry whisper before he continues: “And if I remember correctly, you enjoyed 'screaming’ my name without a care in the world before.”

The atmosphere in the room became oppressively heavy, and the tension was palpable. Y/N moved her hand up his chest; she ran her nails along the surface and felt him shiver under her touch. ‘I have missed you, she murmured lustfully.

But just when George was about to surrender to this desire to strip her naked and finally feel her, a sound from the next room brought them to a halt. It was the Arthurs' unmistakable, slurred laughter as the duo clumsily barged into the room.

“Maybe we should try to get some sleep,” Y/N said quietly, waking up with concern in her eyes. ‘I don't know what I would do if they ever walked in on us.’

George let out a long-suffering sigh, his limbs trembling in protestation for not giving in. “Alright,” he agreed, even though he felt an overpowering urge to demand more. They kissed one more time and then lay gently beside each other, their limbs touching in the darkness of the bed where they slept.

The night was full of insomnious, restless whispers and secrets of lips pretending not to ache for each other. They found themselves lying side by side, and the distance that separated them seemed enormous.

Each time George moved in the bed, it made a squeaky sound, and this made them realize the importance of keeping quiet. They would go to bed and only wake up in the wee hours of the morning with the air between them pregnant with desire.

The next day, like all the previous days, the vacation by the tropical sun had arrived with no special warning, different from the fact that it was the last of the vacation, and the day felt weighty with the expectation of what was to come.

They packed their bags, the mundane task feeling almost erotic as their eyes kept darting toward each other, silently acknowledging the unspoken tension.

On their way to the airport, George’s hand lightly touched Y/N’s thigh in the back of the taxi, which sent a spark between them. She gripped his hand tightly, her knuckles white, and he knew she felt the same desperation. The flight home was torture; each minute seated in the plane was a silent plea for satisfaction.

The feeling only grew more intense once they got to their flat in London that they shared with Chris and Arthur Hill.

As soon as they both stepped inside and the door shut, George pushed Y/N against the wall and went in for it, kissing her fiercely as he had been wanting to for the past two days. She moaned, overly aroused, the suppressed passion of their vacation reacting.

”I need you,” George repeated softly in her ear, his teeth lightly touching her tender skin.

Y/N immediately grabbed his chest and shoved him backward with such force that it made him stumble. “No, not here!” she replied with a passion that radiated throughout her body.

George stared at her, his expression feral and filled with desire. “Let them hear,” he whispered, the possessiveness clear in his voice. “Make sure they understand that they belong to me.”

Y/N’s breath caught at the blatant demand in his voice. She realized he was correct; they had to give in now; they couldn't wait anymore. They fumbled down the hall, their clothes torn off in a frenzy as they moved. The door to their room banged shut, making the flat resound with the sound.

Their kisses became more passionate as they collapsed onto the bed, desperate to make contact and to take possession of each other. George’s hands traveled all over her, familiarizing themselves with every bump and hollow, every plane and line. It walked its long fingers up her dress, past her hips, his eyes locked with her the whole time.

In his mind, George was already preparing a symphony of sensation for them to get erotically lost in. He wanted to feel her completely, hear the moans of passion, as he thrusts in her. The idea of giving into their desires, giving in to their perverse passion was like a drug to his mind; he became dizzy with all the feelings that stirred his inner conscience.

Y/N’s legs tightened around his waist as he placed her on the bed; the springs of the mattress squeaked gently. He did not mind if the whole house heard them; what mattered to him the most was the present, the touch of her body. Their lips met once more; this time he reached down near her hips and touched the softness of her thighs through the delicate material of her underwear.

“You are stunning, so, so beautiful,” he murmured huskily, running his eyes over the curves of her figure. " I dreamt about this every night."

Too excited to breathe properly, Y/N stared at him, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. "I wanna know what you’ve been dreaming about." She whispered seductively into his ear.

George tried to hide the darkness in his eyes as he whispered against her ear, leaning closer to her. ”I’ve dreamt of you open and spread for me, begging me to take you,” he said as his hand traveled higher up her thigh. “I have dreamt of your sweet cries echoing in the room as I continue to fuck you until you cum all over my cock.“

Y/N’s core tightened at the sound of his voice, a thrill of desire pulsating through her. She reached out her fingers around his hard erection, the warmth of it pulsating with his carnal need. “And what do you want now?” she whispered, her lips quivering with lust.

Obsession blazed in George’s gaze, his eyes fixed fiercely on hers as if he desired nothing else in this world. “Now,” he growled, the desire saturating his voice, “it is time to turn these dreams into reality.” Placing himself at her pussy, the head of his cock lightly pressing against her moist lips. “Are you ready for me?”

Again, Y/N’s eyes rolled back, and she let out a small moan. “Oh, much more than ready,” she exclaimed, burying her fingers into his muscles as he thrust deep into her. The feel of him inside of her was something she was yearning for. She moaned as she felt the fullness in her stomach.

The room was filled with their lovemaking: the sound of skin against skin, the creak of the mattress, the ragged panting. It was sweet music that only the two of them heard—an opera that unfolded within the confines of the room they both occupied. The zeal of their love deepened with every touch, with every kiss and every murmured endearment they exchanged.

”Scream for me,” George encouraged, his words heavy with passion as he thrust into her. His large palms were covetous, grasping her, possessing her, as if he had to stake out his claim on her.

Y/N closed her eyes, surrendering to his dominance effortlessly. She threw back her head, her nipples rubbing against his bare skin, and cried out as he hit the spot within her that seemed to make her shudder with delight. It was a sound that rang through the silence of the flat, a proclamation of happiness that appeared to shiver the pillars of their existence.

At the sound of her moans George began to rotate his hips even more exaggerated. He could sense it constricting around him, her thighs clamping around his middle as she clung to him. The pressure was intense, the tension that had accumulated on their trip was finally being set free, and George felt that he was close. He stretched one hand towards her, and his fingers quickly located her clit, pressing on it firmly but lightly.

"You are so wet," he whispered with a throaty growl that revealed how much he desired me. "So fucking wet for me."

Y/N blinked slowly, and her eyes were wide with desire as she gazed up at him. “More,” she pleaded, sulky and breathy, her tone sending a bolt of pleasure straight to his cock. "Tell me what you want to do to me, George."

Panting heavily, George followed the demand to release, his voice turning into a deep and monstrous growl. “I want to fuck you until you cannot walk straight,” he whispered, his hips thrusting into her with renewed vigor as the bed frame creaked. “I want to tear you apart and hear you scream my name as if it is the most important thing in the whole wide world.”

Y/N’s eyes rolled back in her head, her body reacting to his every word. "Harder," she begged, digging her nails into his back. "I want it all, George. Every inch of you."

George felt his stroke become more strained, his words dirty to the rhythm of their bodies. "You take it all in," he told her, his voice a whisper. "Every fucking inch." She felt him stiffen against her, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "You'll come so hard, you'll see fucking stars."

Y/N’s moans grew louder, filling the room with the sweet sound of her pleasure. "I'm so close," she admitted, her voice shaky and hoarse. "I'm going to cum all over your cock."

George's eyes darkened with desire at her words. "Do it," he demanded, his voice a rough command. "Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you need it."

Y/N’s body reacted to his command, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. She screamed his name, her walls clamped together, her nails driving into his back. The feeling was too much, too perfect, and he knew this was just the beginning of their reunion.

"Yeah," George sighed, letting his release run out. "That's it, baby. Take it all." He leaned over and captured her lips in a crushing kiss, drowning out her screams as their bodies moved in perfect unison. The words that left his lips were a mixture of love and lust, a promise of all the dirty things he wanted to do to her.

"I'm going to fill you up," he whispered, his teeth brushing against her earlobe. “I want to hear you beg for more. Tell me to never stop fucking you.”

Y/N gasped, the words sending shivers down her spine. “Yes,” she gasped. Her voice was barely audible over the sound of their bodies clashing. “I need you, George.”

He moaned, and his voice echoed in her chest. “You are so fuckable,” he muttered, his hips thrusting deeper into her with every thrust. “I love how you feel this way, so wet, so hot, so perfect.”

Y/N's eyes rolled back into her head as she felt the pressure increase again. With her core tightening around him, "Come on, darling," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their bodies slapping together. “I want to feel you fill me completely.”

Those words were like a catalyst for George. His body responded to the primal urge to fill her up. To mark her as his own, he thrusted one last time. His cock throbbed as he released his seed deep inside her. The feeling was almost overwhelming. A sense of ownership that sent shock waves through his body.

Y/N felt it too. Her body trembled with pleasure as he poured into her. It was a time of pure connection. Moments that seem to last forever.

"Fuck," George said to himself, planting his head on her shoulder. "That was…"

"Perfect," Y/N told him precisely. Her body was still trembling with the shivers of pleasure. Together, they lolled there for a moment, their hearts beating as one, their breathing the only sound in the room.

The following days raced by in a haze of lust and gratification; every opportunity they got, George and Y/N would find a remote spot to give in to their insatiable lust for each other. It could be a quickie in the kitchen or a marathon in their locked-door bedroom listening to music. Whatever it was, they made the most out of it.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23 @xxkatxgracexx @kneelforloki