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#(did NOT check how i looked before i went to bed so this morning when i looked in the mirror and say i was blood-free it was a miracle)
peachcitt · 1 year
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stayed up super late last night with friends doing halloween stuff (getting drunk and spilling tea) knowing full well that i had to get up early today to go to a quince out of town . i am awake against my will and regretting many decisions
#peach rambles#not staying up late and getting drunk. Let me be clear. that is my natural habitat#i regret rsvping for this quince that happens halloween weekend which just so happens to apparently be the busiest weekend of my goddamn#life. im exhausted from a week’s worth of lack of sleep and i am also no where near done with three of my monday deadlines#and i am losing an entire day (?) of work to this quince.#also it’s halloween weekend i should be getting drunk and looking hot😭😭😭😭#instead i am in the passenger seat of my father’s truck attempting to pretend i am alive#he called me this morning to say how far away he was from my house#but i missed the call because i kept on pressing snooze because. Obvious Reasons. and when i saw that he called#i called him back and he was like ‘im ten minutes from your house’ bitch i hadn’t even packed for the night yet. i was still fully in bed#i feel like if i close my eyes for too long im going to have a category five sleep incident. whatever that means#i think i forgot to pack a bra? fucking. i don’t know#i brought my computer so that i could possibly work but there’s absolutely no charger to speak of in#this vicinity. fuck. and uhhhhh i look like death but the only makeup i have is a singular eyebrow pencil#and the remnants of my eyeliner from last night. also the fake blood still in my fingernails#speaking of fake blood i bloodied my shit up for real last night which was very high risk high reward for me#the blood was four bucks from walmart and said that it stained skin and i was like#what a perfect product to cover my face and body in the day before i go to a family function#it ended up working out because i looked fucking good and i took a shower before i went to sleep#(did NOT check how i looked before i went to bed so this morning when i looked in the mirror and say i was blood-free it was a miracle)#but anyway. yeah. i want to pass out
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honeytonedhottie · 7 months
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HOW I MANIFESTED MY DESIRED APPEARANCE (success story)⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🎐
so manifesting my desired appearance in full took roughly 2 weeks, also this post is pretty long bcuz im not gatekeeping anything, im giving u guys the full story, the full scoop on how i did it so here we go...
some things that i remember doing was, before going to bed i'd either read what my desired appearance looks like (i wrote a list bcuz me as a person, i LOVE writing things down) and i'd read that list before bed like it was fact.
or if i didn't have the list with me, when i was the state akin to sleep i'd talk to myself (ik it sounds weird but its natural for me so it worked) and i'd be like "ik for a fact that i am (fill in the blank)" or "ik for a fact that i have (fill in the blank)"
and i'd just say it to myself, or sometimes when i'd shower, for every part of my body that i'd wash (i separated it into sections) and for each section i'd talk about an aspect of my appearance as though it was from someone else's POV. for example, part of my desired appearance was a difference in hair texture so i'd say "omg honey's hair is SO long and glossy". like i'd talk thru someone else's pov ABOUT my appearance in either a tone of admiration, envy, or indifference.
even if i didn't see movement a couple times or got discouraged, i went back to what feels RIGHT and thats affirming for me.
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some key statements i used :
i know for a fact
i have my exact desired appearance bcuz im god and i said so
another thing that rly helped me was visualization, i was living PURELY in my imagination, completely in my head. i was REAL delulu. i have a vision board on pinterest that was SO helpful for me.
when i saw things in the 3d that didn't please me i completely disregarded it, and when i tell u COMPLETELY, i completely dismissed anything that i didn't like, or that didn't sit right with me.
another little exercise that i liked to do was actually bcuz of a bad habit. so i have a RLY bad habit of checking the 3d but i used it to my advantage. my habit was that every morning the first thing i'd do is go and look in the mirror. when i manifested my desired appearance what i'd do, is i would go to the bathroom mirror and tell my subconscious what i see. so my logic behind this was that since the subconscious didn't have any eyes i could tell my subconscious that i had the head of a unicorn and it'd believe me 💀. so i would talk to my subconscious and tell it what i saw. "i see an angel skull" "i see rly rly long lashes" "i see waist-length hair" etc etc.
i went to the end and i BASKED in it. moral of this manifestation story :
persist regardless of what u experience with ur 5 senses
time is an illusion so forget about it
dont settle for less than what u seek
go straight to the end and bathe in it bcuz u can't try and be something that u already are 
failure doesn't exist
apply
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crystallinestars · 25 days
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I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it
A short-ish fluffy drabble about morning cuddles with Aventurine inspired by this gorgeous official art of him on Twitter (click the link, I promise your eyes will be blessed). I've written enough hurt/comfort for him, so it's time for some fluff. This was supposed to be short, but it somehow turned into 3 full pages.
The title for this fic is actually the title of a song (and album) made by The 1975. Check it out if you're curious!
WARNING: Contains spoilers for Aventurine's real name!
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Pale sunlight shone through the half-closed curtains of the window, illuminating the room in a dim light. You slowly woke up, retaining fragments of the dream you just had as you blearily opened your eyes. You couldn’t quite remember what it was about, but the feeling of serene joy it left behind was still palpable. Such dreams were very rare for you, but perhaps the recent good dreams could be attributed to the handsome blond man sleeping beside you.
Despite the mattress’s large size, Aventurine lay in the center, ignoring his half of the bed in favor of sleeping right next to you. He had pulled you close to him last night, joking that you might feel lonely in such a large bed. You knew that in reality, he did it because having so much space between your bodies made him feel isolated. That was how you found yourself sprawled in the middle with Aventurine, your hands still intertwined from when you went to sleep last night.
Glancing at the blond, you saw him resting on his back, the covers pulled down just enough to unveil the messy state of his black pajama shirt. With all but the top button undone, the two halves of Aventurine’s shirt bunched up to reveal his toned stomach, which slowly rose up and down with every deep breath he took.
Seeing him softly snoring with his hair in disarray and pajama’ shirt all scrunched up, was an adorable sight. Aventurine’s guard was lowered around you in this moment. He allowed you to see this vulnerable side of him that nobody else had the privilege to.
With a soft chuckle, you straighten out his pajama shirt and pull the covers higher to cover his belly so he would stay warm. Reaching a hand out, you gently brushed a few stray locks of hair from his face, smoothing out his bangs and marveling at how handsome Aventurine truly was. In the pale sunlight, his hair glowed a soft gold, making him look almost angelic. While asleep, his features had a look of innocence to them that was usually absent when he was awake.
During the day, he was Aventurine, the cunning and confident gambler who bet his very life for the sake of the thrill and higher rewards. But at night, he was just Kakavasha. A lonely and empty man who sought the comfort and love you had to give. Your beloved Kakavasha.
You had the option of getting up and starting your day, but a glance at the clock told you it was only 6 am, too early for your liking. In all honesty, you would much rather stay snuggled up in the warm bed with your boyfriend and sleep for a couple more hours, which is exactly what you did.
Letting go of Aventurine’s hand, you scooted closer until your body was pressed against his side, and loosely wrapped your arms and legs around him as if you were hugging a giant teddy bear. Aventurine remained peacefully slumbering, unaware of your movements.
Resting your head on his chest, you exhaled a contented sigh, relaxing against the warmth of your boyfriend’s body. The slow and even beating of his heart assured you that he was here, he was alive and in your arms, and before long, your eyelids began to droop as sleep claimed you once more.
Rays of sunlight streamed through the window, landing directly on Aventurine’s face and rousing him from slumber. With a grimace, he cracked open his eyes and squinted in the bright light, before raising a hand to block out the rays. 
Morning had come, much to his dismay. 
Aventurine glanced down at you. You were pressed against his side with your head resting comfortably on his chest, arms and legs securely wrapped around him as if you didn’t want to let him go. The blond man’s heart skipped a beat, expression softening into an endeared smile. Something about the way you held him made Aventurine feel loved and protected.
Still groggy but unable to go back to sleep, Aventurine chose to remain in your warm embrace for a while longer, unwilling to get out of bed to start his busy day. Peaceful and leisurely moments with you like this one were far too few for his liking. 
The blond wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer while you slept, and chuckled when you let out a soft snore. 
Really, you are far too cute, he thought. Glancing at your face, Aventurine’s eyes roamed over your peaceful expression. Out of everyone he was currently acquainted with, you were one of the few who showed your genuine feelings in front of him. None of your expressions were a mask, and he still wasn’t used to someone being so open with him.
Right here in his arms, you were more vulnerable than ever, placing your complete trust in him to keep you safe. To Aventurine, your trust was one of the greatest treasures of all. He cherished the fact that you allowed him into your heart and showered him in all the love you had to give.
As much as he loved the sight of your sleeping face, the Avgin had begun to miss your pretty eyes. Those eyes that looked at him with joy and love—all things Aventurine thought he would never experience with someone again. 
With a soft sigh, he lowered his head and kissed the top of your head, basking in your presence and breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of your hair. 
He tried his best to not wake you, but you had stirred awake regardless, woken up by his caresses. Reluctantly opening your eyes, your sight was greeted with the adoring violet gaze of your beloved.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” he murmured, voice a little hoarse from sleep. Aventurine's speech was uncharacteristically soft and gentle, showing a more tender side of him that only you were privy to.
“Yeah, but it’s okay. I’m glad I got to wake up next to you for a change,” you reply with a small yawn. Aventurine usually woke up before you so he could get ready to attend a meeting or prepare for another dangerous mission, which usually resulted in you waking up alone in an empty bed.
“Oh? Did you miss me that much?” the blonde couldn’t resist teasing you, a playful grin pulling at his lips.
“Very much so,” you agree without missing a beat, refusing to let his teasing fluster you this time. Plus, it was the truth—you did miss him. Letting out a deep sigh, you nuzzled your face into his warm chest, still feeling a bit sleepy.
Aventurine fell quiet at this, his playful expression softening into something more subdued, but it lasted for only a split second before his lips curled into a familiar smile once more.
“Hey, since it’s rare for us to wake up together, how about celebrating the occasion with a delicious breakfast? I can order anything you like, just tell me what you want to eat,” he offered, already reaching for his phone on the bedside table.
You groaned, not in the mood to think about breakfast or move from your warm spot in bed just yet.
“Not yet. Give me five more minutes. Please, Kakavasha?” you whine, tightening your hold on him.
Aventurine let out an amused chuckle and sighed, finding himself unable to refuse your request. Truly, it’s a good thing you were unaware of the power you held over him because he couldn’t ever say no to you.
“Alright, alright, fine,” he relented, abandoning his phone in favor of wrapping his arms around you to hold you close. “But I expect something in return.”
You only let out a muffled sound of protest in response, but otherwise relaxed into his embrace, keeping your head comfortably resting on his chest.
Despite his teasing, Aventurine also enjoyed cuddling in bed with you like this. Sooner or later, both of you would have to get up and start your day, forced to part from one another. But Aventurine was grateful for these five extra minutes. Every minute spent with you was a minute of feeling alive again.
Even though his time was precious, he treasured these little moments with you that brought him a sense of belonging and peace.
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apomaro-mellow · 8 months
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Steve gets the wrong number and starts texting an interesting guy. Steddie, modern au, no upside down
Steve had been feeling pretty good. He’d gone out, had a nice conversation with a girl at the bar and gotten her number. He didn’t feel sparks but she was nice and cute. They didn’t talk about anything too deep but when Steve had asked for her number she put it in and then left with her friends.
He tried not to be too desperate. But he wanted to let her know he was serious and that he would (eventually) be good boyfriend material. So a little before midnight, he shot a text to her to make sure she was alright.
[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂
He had debated on the emoji but figured it was harmless and innocent in the end. He put his phone down and got ready for bed, expecting her to text back after a couple of minutes. Unless she didn’t get home safely. Steve tried not to think about that.
After changing his clothes and brushing his teeth he checked his phone. He lit up when he saw that Misty had replied.
(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡
Misty texted a little different from the way she talked. A bit more…well he wasn’t sure how to describe it. Misty seemed like a really straight-laced woman. She was in the process of getting her education degree.
Steve shot back another message, saying that he had a good time tonight and he really hoped to see her again. There it was. A clear intention. If she responded positively, he’d ask her out right then. But the reply didn’t come as quick as he wanted. When it got around 12:30, Steve finally called it a night. Misty had probably gone to sleep as well.
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[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂
Eddie stared at the text he just received. He racked his brain for whoever Steve must be and what he had done all day today, wondering if he met someone but their name just slipped his mind.
But nope. He had spent this lovely Saturday at home, lounging around in his apartment on his day off. He hadn’t gone out. And he hadn’t met anyone named Steve. The message came when he was in the middle of making his near-midnight dinner of mac and cheese. Whoever this guy was, he was clearly checking in on someone.
Eddie looked at his surroundings. Decent place, a bit cramped but big enough for just him and for anyone who needed to crash on his couch. He had popped out earlier to get some cigs and he had in fact made it back safely.
(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡
And who said he didn’t have impulse control? He thought about it for at least two minutes before sending the message.
[11:55] I had a nice time tonight. Hope to see you again.
Eddie looked at the new text, his chewing slowing to a stop. This Steve guy had met someone, spent some time with them, and was now trying to set up another date. There were a few ways to go about this. For just a moment he considered what a rational person would do, just a moment though.
A rational person might’ve said right away ‘wrong number’ or ‘wires crossed’. But Eddie’s brain didn’t function on rationality. So even though Steve clearly meant to text someone else, Eddie thought of the best way to reply. It did take him a bit to send it, the macaroni was calling to him. But by 1, Eddie had sent something back.
(1:07) You saw me?  (1:09) From my apartment?  (1:10) Creepy
He went to bed, thinking he’d wake up to a very confused man and when morning came he wasn’t disappointed.
[8:13] What are you talking about? It’s Steve? From the bar?
Eddie checked his clock. It was ten in the morning. Who got up at eight on a Sunday? Eddie’s first thought was a church-goer. Those folks were early risers. But they didn’t frequent bars too much.
(10:29) Sorry man (10:30) I think you got the wrong number (10:30) I didn’t go to a bar last night.
Once he sent it, Eddie belatedly hoped the words weren’t too blunt. It couldn’t feel nice, getting a number error. But after a moment of thinking, he started coming around to the idea that maybe Steve wasn’t such a catch. People didn’t give wrong numbers after a good time. Maybe he actually was a creep.
[10:36] Oh. Well, I’m sorry to bother you.
Eddie rolled from his back onto his stomach. Curse his soft heart. He didn’t know anything about this man and somehow he felt sorry for him. But he wasn’t about to go gushing to a stranger. Who knows what kind of interactions Steve had with this mystery number? So instead, he went the typical Eddie route and tried to lighten the mood.
(10:38) Probably dodged a bullet (10:38) They could’ve been a serial killer (10:39) Or worse someone who jogs in the morning
He put that little dig there just to feel out Steve. If he wasn’t at church, maybe he was the kind to go and workout in the morning. In the middle of making his coffee, Eddie realized he was trying to learn about the dude and thought he might be courting danger. Then he heard a ‘ping!’ and any ideas of caution were thrown to the wind.
Leaning against the counter, the only sound was the percolating as he read what Steve had said.
[10:46] Okay confession. I did actually go for a jog this morning. Is that weird?
Eddie started to visualize this man and another alarm went off in his mind that he promptly shooed away.
(10:47) No not weird at all (10:47) It’s perfectly natural for an insane person (10:48) Didn’t you go drinking last night? (10:48) And then you went for a jog this morning? (10:49) You might just be more scary than a murderer (10:50) Scratch that (10:50) This seems like text book serial killer behavior (10:51) Bet this is how you scope out your targets
The coffee finished brewing and Eddie starting pouring it and it was only then he realized the wall he’d sent Steve accusing him of being a killer. It looked like texts from a crazy person. He looked crazy. His friends had complained more than once about him sending these streams of texts instead of keeping it all in one response. Steve was going to see that and leave him on read, or just block his number.
[10:57] Damn guess I better come up with a new tactic.
Eddie didn’t realize how hard he was smiling until he tried to drink and spilled hot coffee on himself. Alarms were ringing in his head again but he might as well be deaf.
Part 2
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jujutsukatsuki · 10 months
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Katsuki knew from a young age that he wanted to be the best. He would sacrifice what he had to go get there. Even if that meant losing the people closest to him.
You knew from a young age that you wanted to be Katsuki’s. That you’d stand by his side and love him forever. You’d sacrifice whatever you could to be his.
It worked for a while. You pined after him. He shoved you away.
“Oi! Get off!” He barked and tried to shove you off of him. Katsuki had just won the UA festival and you met up with him after.
“No! You won! You did so good!” You squeal and squeeze the blonde tightly.
Katsuki knew that you and him could never happen. You were the annoying girl who lived across the street. The girl he was forced to play with when your moms would have coffee together on Saturday mornings.
You knew that you’d have to chip away at the icy exterior to make room for yourself in his heart. He wasn’t just Dynamite. He was Katsuki. The boy who lived across that street. The boy you’d spend Friday nights roasting marshmallows with in the winter time with the use of his quirk.
His time at UA came and went. With lots of bumps in the road, he always seemingly found himself at your doorstep. Disheveled. Bleeding. Nearing exhaustion.
“Sit still.��� You whisper softly as you stitch him up. You went on to become a doctor, thanks to Katsuki. You saw the difference he was making in the world and you wanted to do it too.
“I am.” He said gruffly and took another swig of vodka. He looked down at your concentrated face. The way your brows furrowed as you carefully threaded the needle. He wouldn’t ever admit it, but every time you were finished healing him up, he craved the hug you’d give. Like you were holding him together.
As Katsuki moved up in the world, did you. He was the number two hero. You were a top doctor at your hospital. There was a day that seemed to be like any other. Some petty robberies, a few check ups. The day was normal for you both.
Until a huge explosion shook the hospital and sent everyone in a panic. Three villains came in and started causing destruction, and chaos. You quickly started to help patients that were laying in the rubble, you didn’t care that the villains were close by you. You put other people before yourself.
That was the last thing you remember before waking up in someone’s arms. Soft water droplets we’re hitting your face. You scrunched your brows together, your eyes felt heavy as you slowly opened them. Your vision slowly focused as you saw the spiky blonde holding you. Tears mixed with remnants of black from his eyeliner slowly ran down his cheeks and onto your face.
“Come on. Wake up. Please.” His voice was hoarse. You wanted to laugh, to tell him you were right that someday all the yelling would get to him.
“Y/n please. If you wake up right now, I’ll marry you. Just please get up. I can’t do this without you!” You’ve never heard katsuki this upset before. When you’ve finally become coherent enough to slowly move, you gently wrap your arms around him in a hug.
“I’d never leave you Suki.” You whisper to him. For the first ever, he hugs you back. His hand grip the tattered up doctors jacket like you’d fade from existence. He buried his face in your neck as you both hold each other.
Katsuki takes you to his apartment that night, he says it’s for your safety just incase. You can tell he’s lying. Which is why when he shows you the guest room to let you lay down and rest, you turn and lay in his bed instead. The corner of his mouth turns up into a smile before he lays with you.
You know that katsuki will never love you like you love him.
Katsuki knows that you will never understand his love for you. That his love isn’t something he can put in words. He doesn’t know how to translate his love into something you can understand. But he’ll work at it. Because he loves you.
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arieslost · 2 months
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sky full of stars | ln4
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summary: dj!lando always plays your song when you’re at the club.
word count: 3,615
warnings: drinking
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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2021
You did not want to be in this club. You would need another pair of hands and feet to count off all the places you’d rather be, the very first one being asleep in your bed.
But here you were, not only in the club, but within a throng of people at varying levels of fucked up, jumping around and dancing to the song pounding through the speakers. Your comforts were twofold: the first was knowing that you could handle the two shots in your system, and the second was that your best friend was the designated driver tonight, so there was no way in hell she was going to leave without you.
Frankly, you’d been ready to leave an hour ago. In fact, you’d started saying the words, “I want to go home” when you caught a glimpse of the DJ in charge of tonight’s music. Granted, it was hard to really look at him considering the fact that the lights were low and you were on the other end of the club, but you’d seen just enough to know that he was attractive and any thought of leaving had gone right out the window. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t said anything when he started his set, so you didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.
You needed a closer look.
So here you were, surprisingly enjoying yourself on the dance floor while you tried to check him out without being overly conspicuous. You were only able to make out a head of curly hair and the large hand that lifted a shot glass to his lips when your phone started ringing, the buzz in your pocket the only indication thanks to the blaring music. You squinted at the screen, thinking it might be your friend trying to find you, but the caller ID read “Potential Spam,” so your phone went right back into your pocket. You were on a mission.
When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with the man of the hour– the DJ you found nothing short of infatuating. You were rather close to his setup, maybe ten people away, but you could feel his gaze on you as he picked up a microphone.
“This next song is dedicated to the gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now,” he announced to the whole room, sending a wink in your direction before getting to work on fading the current song into the new one– “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.
You felt goosebumps rising on your arms as the first few notes filled the room, suddenly glad that you were here and not at home, asleep. The lights moved in tandem to the beat of the song, and you finally got a proper look at his face. It’s then that you knew you were screwed, because if he wasn’t the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, you’d be lying.
You barely had any time to pull yourself together before he was motioning for one of his friends to take over for him and stepping down from the booth into the crowd, making a beeline right for where you stood in the middle of it all.
“You’re awfully bold,” you said when he was close enough to hear you, a bit taken aback by how quickly he’d closed the distance between the two of you. “What makes you think I like this song?”
He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to slowly run his hand down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “You have goosebumps, and I’d be shocked if you didn’t like it. When I played it last time, you came up to me and tried to take the mic so you could sing it to everyone.”
That’s another reason why you never made a habit out of going to the club. Somehow, it always got to the point where you lost your mind a little bit and somehow managed to find new ways to make an idiot out of yourself. But tonight was different– you were managing your alcohol intake, and the hot DJ was calling you out on something you’d been too drunk to remember the next morning.
Your friends hadn’t though; in fact, they’d been gracious enough to provide video proof of them dragging you away from the DJ booth. You’d never felt such shame as you did watching that back.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his free hand tilting your chin up so he could look right at you as he spoke. “It’s how I noticed you in the first place. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since.”
At least one good thing came out of my foolishness, you thought to yourself as he took your other hand and put both of your arms around his neck. It made sense, anyway– you definitely would’ve remembered seeing him before had you been sober.
“I’m not a very good dancer,” you warned him as he began to sway to the music, taking you along with him as his hands went down to your hips.
“Neither am I,” he confided, lips close to your ear.
The chorus began, the song’s beat drop making the lights change from red to blue, and you decided that you would let this happen, even if it turned into another embarrassing memory. At least you would remember this time, and you’d never forget swaying back and forth with the handsome DJ as the rest of the crowd danced around you both.
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2022
You were in the club again, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Spending so much time with your favorite DJ, Lando Norris, will do that to you. After that first dance, he bought you a couple drinks and didn’t go back to the DJ booth for the rest of the night due to you dragging him right back out into the crowd and dancing with him until your feet hurt too much to stand. Eventually, your best friend had found you and told you it was time to go, and in your tipsy state you’d kept your arms firmly around Lando, said something about “holding him hostage,” and vehemently refused to go anywhere. It wasn’t until he gave you his number that you allowed your best friend to take you home.
He texted you right away when he woke up that morning, and the day after the two of you went on your first date. He surprised you by taking you to a rather high-end restaurant; you’d pegged him for a more low-key guy when it came to dates, despite the fact that he’d dedicated a song to you in front of a club full of people, and you were proved correct when you were on the phone with him later that night.
“I don’t even like going out that much,” he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “I just thought you deserved something special for a first date so I didn’t look like a loser.”
“You could have just told me that,” you giggled. “The dress code for our next date can be sweats.”
You still remembered the way his eyes lit up when you said “our next date.” That next date, a movie marathon at your apartment, had turned into countless dates, and you never went back to that restaurant.
Now, you were in the club where the two of you first met to celebrate your one year anniversary. Lando was wearing a white button up, and had just unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal more of his tan skin and the gold chain around his neck. You’d given him a look, and he’d complained that “it’s just so hot in here,” but the both of you knew he was just doing it to rile you up.
It was working.
Your hands gravitated to the newly exposed skin, palms running up along his shoulders and fingers dipping beneath his collar to gently scratch at his back. You could spend all night running your hands over his skin, and he’d be happy to let you do it. He leaned closer to you, nearly stepping on your toes as his arms looped around your waist.
“You really weren’t lying last year when you said you were a bad dancer.” You laughed at the affronted look on his face.
“I think I’ve gotten better, thank you very much.” He said, and promptly stepped directly on your foot. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry!”
You only laughed harder, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the vibrations of his own laughter against your lips.
“Wait right here,” he instructed, breaking the kiss. “I’ve got something for you.”
He kissed your cheek and disappeared into the crowd.
The song playing began fading out, which caught your attention because it was in the middle of the chorus. You didn’t need Lando’s DJ knowledge to know that it was a strange decision to fade a song out long before it was over.
“Attention, everyone. We had a special request tonight from a familiar face,” the DJ announced before passing the microphone to none other than your boyfriend.
“This next song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend,” Lando said, pointing directly at you and causing your face to get hot when half the room looked in the direction of his finger. “Happy one year, baby. I love you.”
Your jaw dropped as the familiar opening notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” started playing. Not just because of the song, but because of those three special words. I love you. You’d only said it to each other a handful of times, and Lando had just said it to you in front of hundreds of people.
You met him in the middle of the floor, too impatient to wait until he got back to you.
“I love you, I love you so much!” You yelled over the music, kissing him again.
“One year is just the beginning, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.
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2023
You were wrapped up in Lando’s arms as you stood before his setup. In the past year, he had been promoted to be the main talent for the club and had three sets every weekend. He had insisted that the only gift he wanted from you for your two year anniversary was that you help him DJ his next set, and you’d obviously agreed. You got him a necklace anyway, but kept your promise so long as he promised to help you gain at least some skills beforehand so the audience wouldn’t kick you out for being shit. After a week or so, you felt confident enough with the buffer of the knowledge you’d picked up over the past two years to be where you were now– fading one song into another almost seamlessly.
Lando would take his hands off of you for only seconds at a time to adjust something here or there and make the music flow as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, he was all over you for the whole club to see, and you were kind of obsessed with it. He was hardly paying attention to anything else; only moving on autopilot to fiddle with the knobs or whatever it was he was doing to make you look like an adequate DJ.
“Did I do okay?” You asked towards the end of the set, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who hadn’t stopped smiling at you since you left the apartment and arrived at the club early to set up.
“Are you kidding? I think I might be out of a job after tonight,” he said, threading his fingers into your hair to pull you into a long kiss. “At least I would be, if I didn’t have this party trick under my sleeve.”
Slightly dazed from the passion of his kiss, you let him lean around you and queue up a song that wasn’t originally in the mix for that evening’s set.
At this point, you should have expected it, and maybe you did a little bit, but that didn’t stop the tears from pricking your eyes and the goosebumps rising on your arms when “A Sky Full of Stars” began, sending the crowd into a chorus of cheers.
“It works every time,” he said cheekily, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had escaped.
“You are unbelievable.” It was meant to be said in jest, but you were just so filled with love and adoration for him that it sounded like a compliment.
“Dance to our song with me,” he said, spinning you and tugging you forward so you bumped right into his chest.
“Here?” You looked behind you, at the set up, at the hundreds of people, and he took your chin in his hand and turned your face back to him.
“Here. Now. I want them all to see how much I love you.” He said it so sweetly that, in that moment, you were willing to give him just about whatever he wanted.
He started singing the song to you, “‘Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you,” and it felt like you were the only two people in the room when the beat dropped and you kissed him with everything you had, letting him sway you back and forth and spin you around one too many times just to see his smile and hear his giddy laugh.
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2024
You’re surprised when Lando tells you that he’s made different plans for your three year anniversary. The club has become a second home of some sorts; you’re there more often than not to watch his sets, and you’ve always gone there for your anniversaries. Not just the years, but the six month, year and a half, and two and a half year anniversaries as well. Thus, the sudden deviation from tradition raises a few alarm bells in your head. If anything, you’d expect a change for your four years next year since 4 is your boyfriend’s lucky number.
You don’t have time to dwell on it that much. You have to be out the door in ten minutes, and you still have to finish applying your lipstick, not to mention strap yourself into the sparkling silver heels Lando had gotten you for Christmas.
“Almost ready, baby?” He asks, peeking into the bathroom and watching as you add one last swipe of lipstick.
“Yup! Just need my—” you’re cut off when he holds up the heels. “—shoes. Thanks, Lan.”
“Here, sit. I’ll put them on for you.” He gestures to the edge of the tub.
You take him up on his offer happily, and your heart jumps up into your throat when he stares right into your eyes and slowly gets down on one knee before you.
You’d overheard him talking about possibly proposing to you with your parents over the holiday break, and you hadn’t been stealthy about it at all, so he knows that you heard. Since then, he’s made a game out of getting on one knee in front of you every now and then. He already did it once this morning when he woke you up only to tell you that he made you breakfast. You know he’s joking, but now that you’re celebrating a significant milestone in your relationship you can’t help but have a slight inkling that his joking around is less of a joke and more of a hint.
So when he holds your gaze long enough to make you start thinking that it might actually happen before going about putting your shoes on, you’re not at all fazed and ruffle his hair.
“Hey! Easy, I spent a lot of time making my hair look good for you.” He yelps, jumping up to look in the mirror and patting it down meticulously.
“I like it when it’s messy,” you reply, giving him a look that you know drives him crazy.
“You can’t say that and look at me that way when we’re trying to leave the house, babe.” He whines.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You make sure the straps on your heels are tight enough before you stand up, pleased that your retaliation to his down-on-one-knee joke worked better than you thought it would. “Come on, I don’t want to be late!”
He wastes no time in getting his payback for your antics when you arrive at the restaurant he took you to for your very first date. He opens the car door for you, and takes your hand to help you step out. The moment you’re on the sidewalk and the door is closed behind you, he gets down on one knee again, making a point to look at you the entire time. Your heart jumps again. Certainly he wouldn’t do it on the sidewalk? Or maybe he would, to add to the element of surprise?
He doesn’t. He simply ties his shoelace, the picture of innocence all the while.
“Shall we?” He says as he straightens up, offering his arm with a smile.
You retain your own picture of innocence, wrapping your hand around his bicep. “We shall.”
Seeing that he had booked the private dining room has more alarm bells going off in your head, not to mention the fact that you thought you’d never see the inside of this restaurant again. Regardless, you were actually kind of happy to be somewhere quieter to celebrate your anniversary, as much as you’ve fallen in love with being at the club.
Lando clears his throat loudly towards the end of your meal as the waiter pours two glasses of champagne. “Three years,” he begins, sounding somewhat awestruck.
You nod in agreement. “Three years. Sick of me yet?”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” He passes you a glass, and you clink them together before you each take a sip. “Actually, I’d really love to just spend my entire life with you.”
Now he’s not even trying to hide it, so you laugh a little bit. “That’s sweet, Lan.”
“I’m serious,” he pouts, and you try to contain yourself, painting a serious expression on your face and nodding as you press your lips together. “Fine, I admit it. I went a little too far with the joke.”
“Which time? Are we talking about just today or the past few weeks?” You ask pointedly, taking another sip of your champagne.
“Okay, a lot too far.” He huffs, getting out of his chair and pushing it in before walking to your side of the table. “I want to make up for it right now though, if that’s alright with you.”
“Oh my God. You’re actually serious?” You ask, feeling your insides beginning to shake a little with giddiness as he gets down on one knee before you for the fourth time today.
“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a small box.
It looks a bit different than ring boxes normally look, and the moment he opens it you understand why. The notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” emit from within the box where the ring sits, the dazzling diamond sparkling when it catches the light.
“Fuck’s sake, Lando, I wouldn’t have spent so much time on my makeup if I knew you were gonna do this,” you sniffle, putting a hand over your mouth.
“I’ll keep it short because I don’t want to cry too much and ruin it,” he promises, taking your free hand in his own, the other holding the box out to you. “I’ve never been happier to be borderline assaulted by a drunk girl in the middle of a set, because if that never happened I don’t know if we would’ve met.”
You start laughing hysterically, tears most definitely ruining your makeup, and he laughs through his own tears.
“I just love you so much, every little thing about you. It would take me eternity to tell you how much I love you, and that wouldn’t even be enough time with you. So, that’s why I want to ask you to be with me beyond eternity and do me the honor of being my wife.” He says your name like he’s saying it for the first time, taking his time to savor the way it rolls off his tongue. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” you nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Hand shaking, he slips the ring onto your finger. The moment it’s in place, he puts his other knee down and pulls you into the tightest hug as the song continues playing from the box.
“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his shoulders shake slightly as he cries. “But did you have to give me a heart attack so many times today?”
He laughs, pulling away and grabbing a napkin to gently wipe your eyes. “Four’s my lucky number, I had to do it three other times today to make sure I got it right.”
The song comes to an end, and you pick up the box, observing the intricate design and the engraving on the outside– You get lighter the more it gets dark. I’m going to give you my heart. Forever.
“You know this has to be the song we dance to for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Norris, right?” You say to him, leaning in and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.
“Way ahead of you, baby. I already started making our playlist; it’s the first song on there.”
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note: the fact that i’m posting this after lando confirmed he “retired” from dj-ing… call this my long-winded eulogy. special thanks to coldplay for making a song that inspired a whole story!
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
beautiful dividers by @/saradika !
tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @thef1diary @clara760-blog @baby-moxley @positiveaspirations @xfuckoffx @hannahbrown2002 @cataalinababeyy @inejghafawifesblog @formulasportworld @meandjoemama @maddie-bell @mrsmaybank13 @hadids-world @havaneselover08 @aacherrylips @itsmoonia @universallyhoundbonkfestival @rery30 @paigeworlds @wassgood @itscrzy @ctrlyomomma @inlovewithdeadboys @multifandomfan1 @bwormie @megsmclaren @barackostea @enchantemirrorball @tiredallthetimex @cosmoscoffeee @mlilyb16 @ophcelia @idktbhhsworld @l-inas @kath8278 @formulaangel55 @y-nusername @sla123455ffh @dinodumbass @diaa-20 @alexmarie29 @lisoba13 @ftdtlovecore @clowngirlsstuff @jurelij @romanxffs @sadisticfries @loyalpuffofthehuffle @cherrue @itsprashimusic @danielmarie @dampcelery0294 @shasasthings @bringbacktim @lou-larcher5 @yunakynn @hanbinnneee
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coryosbaby · 8 months
Text
Cw: stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), intoxication/drug use, a bit suggestive . Slight angst . Soft Rafe <3
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Rafe, he thinks, fell in love with you before the drugs.
He shouldn’t of— and for obvious reason. You were perfect, an angel. But you were Rose’s daughter.
He tried to pry the thoughts away, at first. Tried not to think about your kindness, your innocence, your pretty eyes — your ass, your tits, your cunt. But it wasn’t long before they utterly consumed him.
Another day it was, in the Cameron household: Rafe, coming home, completely coked out of his mind, drunk, and clattering around in the kitchen. He didn’t know what he was looking for, just knows that it had something to do with a spoon and a jar of peanut butter.
It would’ve been almost funny if he didn’t look so distraught to you. When you came down the stairs you knew the noises were Rafe. He always did this; you’d have to clean him up, put him to bed— sometimes you’d cook for him. But that was when he was in your good graces.
“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing?” You groaned, rubbing your eyes sleepily. He hadn’t woken you up, but you were extremely tired. You had wanted to wait up for him because he promised to go on a 7/11 run with you when everyone was asleep and then watch a few movies.
And as usual, he broke his fucking promises.
It angered you, but when Rafe turned around and greeted you with that beautiful intoxicated smile, your frustration wavered when you saw the way his eyes seemed to light up.
“Hey, y/n!”
“Hi, Rafael.”
He frowned, knowing you only called him that when you were aggravated at him. He stumbled drunkly when he tried to approach you. You made sure to catch him by his arm.
“God, you’re wasted,” you said. “Do you feel sick?”
“I did…” he slurred. “But ‘m better now that my favorite girl is here.”
Your face became flushed at his words, but you pulled yourself out of your wandering thoughts and dragged the boy over to the couch. He plopped down onto the cushions, grunting.
“‘M tired..” he murmured.
“Gotta check you for any cuts, first.”
You usually checked him out so you could make sure he wasn’t fighting anyone or getting any bad injuries; he was likely to not even feel it until morning, and when he got a disgusting cut on his ankle once it had got infected and he had to be sent to the hospital. You’ve cleaned up his wounds since then.
And of course, taking his palm into your hand, you found that he had a medium sized cut on his palm. You sighed.
“Any idea how you got this?” You asked.
“No sir, doctor, sir.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You love me.”
It was true, but you just let out a scoff and went to get the first aid kit from one of the cabinets in the nearest bathroom. Pulling out the proper cleaning materials, you got on your knees in front of Rafe and began to care for his wound. He was almost in a daze as you did this; you looked even better when he did a line or two. He’d mistaken you for an angel quite a few times.
“You’re ‘s pretty.” He whispered.
You couldn’t help but smile. You didn’t say anything until you could see that his eyes were shut and his breathing had calmed. You looked up at him and lightly slapped the side of his cheek.
“Rafe— you can’t go to sleep yet.” You stated calmly. He opened his eyes, just a tiny bit, and a grin spread across his face when he saw your doe eyes staring up at him.
“Sorry, sweets. Couldn’t help it.”
You finally wrapped some gauze around his cut. Made sure to press a kiss to it. He always gave you hell if you didn’t.
“Cmon. Gotta get you upstairs.” you said.
Rafe yawned and stretched when he stood up, and you grabbed his hand so you could guide him up to his room. It was immediate when he saw his king sized bed, and he made sure to strip down to his briefs and climb under the covers. You tried not to stare too long at his chiseled chest or his pretty sculpted muscles. You were about to leave when his fingers grabbed your wrist and wrapped tightly around it.
“Stay,” he murmured. “Don’t want you to go, momma.”
The nickname isn’t one he used often, but on nights like this he let it slip up once or twice. You didn’t mind it; in fact, it was quite cute.
“I shouldn’t,” you replied.
“Please.”
You couldn’t say no when he begged like that, with those puppy dog eyes. You had already gotten into your pajamas earlier in the night and done your skincare routine so you didn’t really have anything left to do. You climbed in beside the boy, laid down beside his half naked body. You didn’t trust yourself or him to be in the same bed, but exhaustion was taking over you and you just wanted to sleep.
“Happy?”
“Mhm..”
He looked up at you, dazed. He stared at your lips almost intensely. It wasn’t long before his breath was hot against your lips and he was trying to lean in.
You move away from it, from his kiss. You couldn’t do that with him. You knew how wrong it was.
“Don’t. Please,” you murmured to him. Rafe looked saddened, pained, at your rejection.
“Give me one kiss,” he pleaded. His thumb came up to run over your bottom lip. Your face was on fire. “Just one, I promise. I can’t keep going on like this forever, without one kiss.”
You wanted to kiss him; you wanted it so badly that it hurt. You had wanted it since the first year that you moved in and saw him sitting at the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal every morning. You’ had wanted him since he taught you how to roll your first joint, took you to your first high school party.
You always wanted him.
You gave him what he begged for. It was small, feather light and like angel wings against Rafe’s lips. He went back in for another one; he knew he promised just one, but as usual, the boy didn’t keep his promises.
You let him, though. And it felt nice. He peppered them along your neck, too, after that. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and the cologne he used as he did it. It left electric shocks along your skin.
After one more sloppy kiss against your jugular, he pulled away and buried his face into your neck sweetly.
You didn’t know how you were going to look at him in the morning. You didn’t know if he even remembered the next day.
He did, though. He remembered all of it. In fact, he made sure to get you back in his room and kiss you even more the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that.
You were so fucked.
© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!
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harryspet · 5 months
Text
bambi eyes (2) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
word count: 4.7k
In which you've been a good girl and your Daddy Rafe can't get enough of you.
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bambi eyes masterlist
When you opened your eyes the following day, you could still feel Rafe all over you. All at the same time, you felt him inside of you, his mouth kissing your lips, and the bed dipping beside you when he pressed his weight into you. When you slowly realized he wasn’t in bed with you anymore, part of you felt you might have imagined last night. You’d never truly enjoyed being with men, and last night, you felt closeness for the first time. Perhaps it was the combination of all the gifts and the attention he had provided you yesterday. 
You still couldn’t quite rap the idea around your head that you were the first and maybe only girl he had done this with. How long was he planning on keeping you here?
The digital clock sitting on the nightstand read exactly 8:00, and you took it as a cue to get out of bed. As you made up the bed, your mind again wandered back to last night. You imagined he left as soon as you fell asleep, and you’d let yourself get so comfortable that you hadn’t even noticed. 
You stared at the doorknob for a short while. It would be locked, you knew that, but what if it wasn’t — it didn’t matter. 
Before he left, you noticed he left you an outfit hanging on the armoire. He’d picked out a matching set of light pink leggings and a matching top. He also picked out a pair of socks that had little, tiny bunnies on them and lacy, white underwear. You brought the clothes with you to the bathroom, your fingers caressing the soft fabric of the clothing. You didn’t recognize brand, sure that it was popular with American girls.
You went through your morning routine, one that Rafe had laid out yesterday, and you found yourself having fun. You brushed your teeth as you ran your bath. There were a million bath products, and you spent a few minutes opening and smelling all of them. You settled on something sweet and flowery, and soon the aroma was spreading throughout the entire bathroom. 
You settled in the water with the bubbles enveloping you. 
You almost settled into a moment of peacefulness until you heard your bedroom door unlock. Wearing a nice plaid shirt and khaki pants, Rafe entered your small sanctuary. You sat up in the water, worried that you’d been taking too long. His eyes were soft and unthreatening, and you let yourself rest again. He took a seat on the edge of the tub, looking down at you, “Enjoying yourself?”
You nodded, “It’s nice. Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome, princess,” He smiled, “You did good. Last night, I mean.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I have some exciting plans for us,” He stated before he reached into his pocket, “Here, I need you to take this.”
He placed a small white pill in your hand. You watched as he made his way over to the sink, filling up a cup of water and bringing it to you.
“What is it for?” 
“It’s, uhm, so you don’t get pregnant,” Oh. You placed the pill on your tongue, washing it down with the liquid, “I got a little ahead of myself last night. That’s why I’m going to have a doctor check you out today.”
“I’m going to the hospital?”
“No. Dr. Watts makes house calls. And he’ll be here in thirty minutes. I’ll come back and get ya’, yeah?”
“Okay,” You agreed, slightly worried that Rafe thought you needed to be seen by a doctor. 
Rafe moved to leave but stopped in the doorway, “Don’t worry, there will be time for little Rafe’s and Bambi’s. Just not yet.” 
You nodded, conveying your understanding, but in reality, you didn’t understand how he could know he wanted that with you, even in the future. After he left the room, you realized your fingers were beginning to wrinkle. You reached down to drain the water from the tub, deciding your next pressing issue was how you’d do your hair. 
There was a vanity made into the sink countertop with a place underneath for a chair to fit. You pulled it out and made yourself comfortable, looking closely through all of the drawers. You find lots of hair accessories, makeup, and other beauty products. You picked some things out that wouldn’t require a full tutorial for you to use. You also chose two pink bows to tie to the ends of your braids, taking a guess that Rafe might like that you match your outfit. 
According to Rafe, Figure 8 had a lot of these places called country clubs, and you wondered what sort of things people wore to places like that. Surely, Rafe would make sure you wouldn’t feel out of place there. If you fully earned his trust, if you continued to be good, you could probably have a normal life here. People were happy here, especially the ones that called themselves Kooks. 
The leggings fit you well, grabbing onto your curves, and the cropped pink top also fit you snuggly. 
Outside the window, you could see boats riding by in the distance and large birds that stood by the water, wading and looking for fish. You could already tell his home was large, just from the view from your room, making you curious about the rest of the house. As if he was able to read your mind, Rafe appeared again, holding the door propped open, “Let me show you the rest of Tannyhill, Bambi.”
You straightened, trying not to seem too eager as you approached the door. As you grazed past you, he rested a hand on your hip, rubbing his palm against your bottom. You looked down a long hallway with lots of old paintings and elegant-looking fixtures. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway, “This is my room,” Rafe opened double doors, and you peeked inside to see a large dark wood canopy bed.
He didn’t show you every room; in fact, he seemed to ignore one specifically. Your eyes widened when he brought you out onto a huge patio that overlooked an even more ginormous green lawn. 
“All of this is–”
“Yeah,” He finished your sentence for you, “Anyone would be happy here, right?”
“Yes,” You agreed quickly, which seemed to please him. He grabbed your hand in response, holding it and caressing your thumb with his own larger one. Although you could tell the seasons were changing, the weather felt nice, and there was a constant breeze flowing and relieving you from the heat of the sun. 
He gave you time to take in the scenery but five minutes later, you both could see a car coming down the horseshoe-shaped driveway, “That’s Dr. Watts. You ready?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
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You didn’t have much of experience with doctors but you knew already you must not be a good patient. You struggled with almost every answer that Dr. Watts asked you and, at some point, he started directing all of his questions towards Rafe. 
When was your last period? What kinds of birth control have you used? Have you ever had something called a pap smear? Do you have any allergies? What’s your family’s medical history? 
“I gave her a Plan B this morning, just to be safe.”
You found yourself just trying to keep up with the conversation they were having. At some points, you found the view outside more interesting, “There are small procedures we can do. An IUD can be placed inside the uterus, an implant can be placed inside the arm, or there is the traditional birth control pill. Right now, I can give her a shot that will prevent pregnancy for the next 3 months.”
You were sat where Rafe had placed you, on a stool in the middle of the massive kitchen. 
Dr. Watts didn’t look like what you imagined a doctor would look like. He didn’t wear a white coat; in fact, he was dressed very casually in shorts and a button-up. He also brought all the things he needed in a briefcase. 
“That’s fine,” Rafe agreed, his arms crossed. 
“Alright, so after that shot, we’ll do a couple of vaccination shots. And then I’ll take some blood for testing.”
Dr. Watts had several syringes laid out on the kitchen island, picking up the first one after washing his hands and putting on some gloves. Rafe grabbed ahold of your hand again, his eyes commanding you to look at him, “This is just to make sure you’re healthy. It won’t feel good, but it’s not a punishment.”
“Okay,” You said, although your heart was pounding, and you already felt tears in your eyes. 
“I’m right here; squeeze my hand,” He said, pushing your hair back as he gazed over your face. On your other side, Dr. Watts lifted the sleeve of your shirt. The first shot was to your upper arm, and the pinch made you squeeze your eyes tight, but it was over relatively quickly, “You’re doing so good, sweet girl. What do you think about ice cream for breakfast?”
You opened your eyes, and the calmness in his eyes was a signal to you that everything was okay, “Lana has the day off, but I can make an ice cream sundae. We’ve got everything, whip cream, cherries, chocolate sprinkles. What do you think?”
Rafe made you talk through the next few shots and when the doctor had to draw your blood, and he wiped your tears when you were all done. 
“That wasn’t so bad. I’ll walk Dr. Watts out, and we’ll make some ice cream.”
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Rafe noticed you seemed almost disappointed when he led you back to your room after your ice cream feast. He liked showing you around your new home and the place he grew up, but he wasn’t quite ready to unhook your leash. You were safest in his home and even safer within these four walls. 
Rafe took a seat at the edge of the bed, his hand still intertwined with yours, “How does your arm feel, Bambi?” 
“A little sore,” You answered, although Rafe could tell by your eyes that it was worse than what you were portraying. He pulled you gently forward, encouraging you to straddle his lap. 
“Poor thing,” Rafe said, his voice becoming even more raspy as he felt your closeness, “But hey, you did so well. You know, I’m really happy with you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’re a good little girl. I can tell that you appreciate everything that I’ve done.”
“I-I do,” You replied quickly, making Rafe smirk. 
“And you understand that I’m in control … I mean, it’s only fair. Who knows what would have happened if I left you with that man, with those people,” You nodded at his words, and negative thoughts of his father, Sarah, and his evil stepmother started to enter his thoughts, “I’m giving you the perfect life, the happy home that I never got. Whatever, I won’t get fucking mopey, but just know after all that I’ve been through, I know how to lead a family properly.”
He stopped his mind from wandering to darker places and grabbed ahold of your hips, “Thank you for … taking me away.”
“I had to,” Rafe leaned in to kiss your neck, “You’re mine now. Only mine.”
He loved that he could smell the perfume he picked out for you and feel you in the clothes he bought for you. He took so much care in creating this paradise for you. 
“Daddy’s going to make you feel better,” Rafe said in your ear, “I have to taste you. You want Daddy to taste your pretty pussy?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Tell me,” Rafe commanded, squeezing your ass with his large hands. 
“I want you to taste me, Daddy.”
“Good girl, don’t be nervous,” Rafe praised, wrapping an arm around your lower back before he swiftly turned you over, placing you gently against the bed, “I’ll be gentle, just how I was last night. Not going to fill you up, just want to taste you.”
You were quite helpless with your arm being so sore, Rafe could tell you were struggling to move it. He thought of tying you down, of course, when you felt better. He took his time with your leggings, still excited as ever to see more of you. He spread your legs, kissing your center through the fabric of your panties. Wrapping his arms underneath you, he pulled you into him, letting your thighs warm his face. He kissed you like this for a while, teasing you, making you squirm when he kissed your inner thigh. Not able to wait any longer, Rafe pulled your thin panties to the side, “There’s Daddy’s pretty little pussy,” He kissed your clit first, and the next sounds out of his mouth were guttural as he took you into his mouth. 
You tasted divine, sweet like he always called you. Rafe became relentless, waiting until you were close to your peak before he pulled away. Heavy breaths fanned over your sensitive area, and you whined because of the lack of friction, “You liked that, didn’t you, Bambi?”
“Yes, i-it feels good, Daddy,” You responded, slightly embarrassed by how quickly you got worked up. 
“Should I keep going? Does my little girl want to cum? Go ahead and ask Daddy. Tell me what you want.”
“Can you please make me cum, Daddy?” Rafe could tell in your tone of voice that maybe you weren’t sure what you asking. He hadn’t considered that you might not know what an orgasm felt like. 
“Yes, Bambi, of course. Talk through it; tell me what it feels like, sweet girl,” After those words, Rafe held you even tighter and dipped his head down again. He pressed his tongue into you, waiting to find that spot that seemed to make you cry out before he focused all the pressure there. 
“It feels …it feels–” You gasped, “It’s too much, it’s too much–” Rafe took your scattered words and cries of pleasure as a good sign to keep adding pressure. When you tried to pull away from him, Rafe knew you were having an orgasm, but he kept you there, “It’s too much, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled away, giving your clit a short break, but soon he was replacing his mouth with his fingers. Rafe shushed you, “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” He pushed two fingers in and out of you, curling them up to find the right spot. For Rafe, the best thing about being with a woman was being able to watch them have multiple orgasms in a row. This time, he’d only make you have two, but he’d soon find out what your limit was, “One more. Just give me one more.”
Rafe started sucking your clit as he moved his fingers, “Please, please,” You wouldn’t beg him to stop; you were too much of a good girl. He knew what you needed and wouldn’t let you run from it. 
He slowed his fingers as you rode out your orgasm. Rafe entangled himself from your legs, needing to see your face. You looked so cute trying to catch your breath and with your face scrunched up. Rafe brought his hands over his mouth, wiping away the wetness, “That’s my girl.”
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A few days passed in your new room. Sometimes it crossed your mind to ask Rafe when you’d be able to walk around the house or when you’d get to go outside, but you stopped yourself every time. You thought you should be more grateful towards him, he’d provided you with so many things, and he was much kinder than any man you’d ever met. He was handsome, too, with blue eyes that often made it hard for you to think when you looked into them. 
Every day was similar; there were no more visitors like Dr. Watts, and you completed your routine exactly like Rafe had instructed. Usually, you’d share all of your meals, and Rafe would leave in between for work. You got more comfortable in your own company. At first, playing with the toys felt silly, like the activities were meant for someone much younger. Slowly, it started to feel like satisfying a part of you that hadn’t existed in a long while. 
Today, you had several coloring books laid out on the ground in front of your bed, and you’d spent most of the day coloring. You liked having your dolls set up nearby so, of course, they could see your work, “What do you think, Molly?” You’d spend hours by yourself, and it started feeling natural to talk to them, “Red or blue for the spots … Blue? You’re right; blue would be perfect.”
Rafe returned to you before dinner but you noticed he hadn’t brought a tray of food like he usually did. Instead, he was carrying a large cardboard box, “I’ve got a surprise for you,” He set it down on the carpet nearby you, his face lit up with excitement. You set down your marker, crawling on your knees towards the box. Rafe kneeled down with you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a soft kiss, “You’ve been so damn good your first week; something came for you in the mail.”
You looked at him, baffled, “I don’t know what it could be.”
“Open it,” He winked at you. 
Cautiously, you pulled open the flaps of the cardboard and then reached into the mountain of packing peanuts. You pulled out a long box, immediately recognizing a doll's face, but one that looked very similar to you. It was the right skin tone and had the same curls that you did, “Really? For me?” You placed the box on the ground, just admiring her face. 
“Yeah, why should you have to play with my sister’s old things?” Rafe opened up the box even further, and you could see she was dressed in a beautiful floral gown. It was a cream color with pretty blue flowers, puffy sleeves, and an even flouncier skirt. 
“She’s so pretty … and the dress is…,” You said, unable to take your eyes off of her, “You didn’t have to; I really do like the other dolls–”
“I wanted to,” Rafe insisted, “And that’s not it. There’s something else.”
When you reached back inside the box, you felt the top of a hanger. You pulled out a clear garment bag and inside was the exact replica of the dress your new doll was wearing, and it looked your size, “For you to wear to dinner,” Rafe explained after you stared speechless, “Which, for tonight, will be served in the dining room.”
“We’ll be matching,” You thought out loud, next picking up the doll from the packaging. 
“She’s welcome to dinner if you want to bring her. She’s completely yours. You can name her and everything,” Rafe said, gently grabbing ahold of your chin, “I want to see you in your new dress, though.”
“Yes, Daddy,” You agreed, standing with both the doll and dress in hand, “If I’m Bambi, maybe she can be …Bunny?”
“That’s a cute name, sweet girl,” Rafe agreed, clapping his hands together, “Run along, I want to be surprised.”
Excitetely, you padded over to the bathroom. When you put the dress on, you were surprised by how similar they were, down to the placement of the flowers, although yours fit much shorter than your dolls. When you stepped back into the room with Bunny in your hands, you smoothed down the back of your dress so it would fully cover your bottom. Rafe’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight, and you did a small spin for him. 
“Wow, don’t you two look precious.”
His eyes looked hungry, although you could tell he wasn’t thinking about tonight’s dinner. 
For the first time in several days, you left your room, one hand tucking Bunny close to your body and your other hand intertwined with Rafe’s. The lights around the house were dim and Rafe led you to down a long hallway to a candlelit room. Although the long dining room had twelve chairs, only two places were set. Rafe pulled back the chair right next to the head of the table, and you initially missed his cue for you to sit as your eyes looked all over the room until he tapped your bottom. Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but you still took your seat. 
In front of you was a delicious-smelling plate of steak with a red sauce, small potatoes, and carrots. There was also a beautiful flower arrangement on the table, one made of cream and light purple flowers, “You look fucking beautiful, princess,” Rafe whistled, taking his place at the head of the table, “Like a fucking painting or something.”
Rafe’s words made you smile, and his compliments often made you feel overwhelmed. You weren’t used to someone taking notice of your appearance outside of sex, and when he looked at you, he looked at you as a whole, “Thank you, Daddy,” The words were starting to feel natural on your tongue, “It looks very nice in here, and the food looks delicious.”
“You ever been on a date before?” Rafe asked, pouring something fizzy into your wine glass. You shook your head in response, “Usually, you share a meal or do an activity together; meanwhile, you’re getting to know the other person. You’re lucky you don’t have to go on a million bad dates before you’ve found the right person.”
“What makes a date bad?” You asked. 
You moved to pick up your knife but paused when Rafe grabbed ahold of it first. He took you for as well and began cutting your steak into smaller pieces, “For me, girls have always wanted … things from me. Superficial things. You think they’re listening to you when you’re pouring your heart out …but really just thinking about how they’re gonna get what they want from you.”
You frowned, squeezing Bunny closer to your stomach, “That sounds horrible.”
When Rafe handed you your fork, you assumed you could begin to eat. 
Rafe nodded his head, taking a swig of brown liquor from his glass, “I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
“Will your sister ever come to visit?” If the purpose of a date was to get to know the other person, you thought you could get some curiosities you had off your mind. 
“I have two sisters. Wheezie, she’ll probably come visit at some point, uhm but my other sister probably won’t. She’s not really welcome, anyways,” Rafe answered, poking at food on his plate, “Wheezie, though, I’m sure she’ll like you.”
Your lips pulled into a small smile, “I’ve always wanted siblings. I had some friends in the other girls, but Mas-” You stopped yourself, “We weren’t really supposed to like each other.”
“Blood doesn’t really mean anything. You should be able to choose your family,” Rafe said, “What matters is who’s loyal to you, you know?
You agreed, although you weren’t sure you really knew what loyalty felt like. As you were finishing up dinner, a loud knocking interrupted one of Rafe’s stories. Rafe seemed more caught off guard than even you were, fumbling to pull out his phone and check something, “Shit,” he cursed, “C’mon, Daddy’s got to handle some business.”
Rafe grabbed your arm as he pulled you from the dining room. He brought you to the stairs, “Go upstairs, close your door, and wait for me,” You tried to glance out the window panes by the front door but couldn’t get a glimpse of who was there, “Go.”
The strict tone in his voice made you hurry up the stairs, although once you were at the top, you ducked down and crouched behind the banister. You watched Rafe open the door, and a shorter, dark-haired man pushed his way inside, “What’s so fucking urgent that you’re showing up without calling?” You heard Rafe ask. 
“Don’t you look fancy,” The other man commented, “Having a dinner party without me?”
“Dude, what is it?” Rafe sounded impatient. 
“It’s Maybank. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have some important shit to tell you.”
“Fine, come to my office.”
Their voices faded away as they moved further into the house. You debated sneaking back down and eavesdropping, but you looked down at Bunny, her face reminding you to be good. You wandered back to your room, and like Rafe told you to, you closed the door behind you. 
He was occupied for an hour before he returned to your room. Running a hand through his hair, he breathed out a sigh, “Sorry about that,” Rafe said, taking a spot next to you on the bed. 
“Who was it?” You asked quietly. 
Rafe hesitated, “... a business associate of mine. I got some bad news. I’ll probably be gone most of the day tomorrow.”
“Can’t I go with you?”
“You still need time to adjust,” He looked down at you, “It isn’t something you’ll want to see anyways. My work is nothing a little girl like you should be involved in. I won’t let you worry your pretty little head.”
“I’m sorry …”
“I’m not mad at you,” Rafe grabbed ahold of your chin, “Before if I had gotten news like that …man, I would’ve lost my shit. But I have you, and just looking at you makes me feel better.”
His hand moved to your throat, squeezing as he kissed your lips, “I want to fuck you so bad in that cute little dress.”
You struggled to get a breath, his tongue exploring your mouth as he tightened his grip around your neck. Instinctively, you grabbed ahold of his wrist, and he pushed you back onto the bed. Just as he released his grip and you were able to take in a full breath, Rafe grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over. His movements didn’t feel like they usually did; he was rough and desperate. 
“Up on your knees,” He lifted up your waist and then lifted up the skirt of your dress, your face pressed into the bed, “Good girl, stay like that, spread open for me.”
You heard him spit before you felt him press a wet hand against your clit, rubbing, before coating your entrance. He was already hard, and he wasted no time pressing his length against your entrance. In this position, you felt him even deeper as he pushed inside of you, “Daddy,” You whimpered. 
“You’re doing so good for me,” Rafe cooed, “I know you can take more. I know you can handle it.”
You squeezed the bed tightly as he moved faster and went just as deep. Rafe kept you from pulling away, holding your hips so tight you were sure they might bruise. Unmercifully, he rocked into you, only going harder when you felt yourself reaching your peak, “I’m cumming, Daddy,” You told him, your voice muffled by the fabric of the comforter, “I’m cumming.”
Rafe grabbed the back of your throat, pushing into you harder, “Cum baby, you’re squeezing me so fucking good,” Rafe panted, “Oh, Daddy’s gonna fill you up, sweet girl.”
You felt tears begin to fall, a swirl of emotions inside you. It hurt, him stretching you over and over, and yet you felt good at the same time. You were so happy to have a home with a new Master who actually cared for you and wanted to take care of you. You were still scared that you’d wake up tomorrow and you’d be back sleeping on cold, cement floors. 
After Rafe finished, the tight grip he had changed to soft caresses. He softly rubbed your bottom before slowly pulling up the skirt of your dress, “Lay down, Bambi,” Although your muscles were sore, you crawled further onto the bed, laying down on your stomach. Rafe fell beside you, caressing your hair and then your tear-stained cheeks, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
You wrapped your arms around him as he pulled you into a deep hug. Rafe rubbed your back until you thought you might fall asleep until you heard him say, “You won’t like it if you wake up in your dress. Let’s go brush our teeth and change into our jammies. Then Daddy will tuck you in, okay?”
Weakly, you nodded against his hard chest, “Okay, Daddy.”
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part 3
2K notes · View notes
no1deepspacehater · 2 months
Text
You Get Into A Car Accident (Non Fatal)
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Xavier
When he texted and you didn’t reply. He wasn’t worried.
When he went to your apartment, and you didn’t answer the door. He was mildly concerned.
When he saw on the news that a hunter was injured in a car crash. He grew worried.
And when he logged into the news feed of the UNICORN’s association, which shows direct information on all hunters, without proper pass, to see your status, he was frantic.
Nearly got into a car crash himself getting to the hospital, and when they wouldn’t let him in to see you, he flashed his high ranking badge, which got the message through.
You were unconscious when he got there, which suddenly reminded him how tired he was.
He prevailed through after checking with the nurses that you were okay, and with that, he pulled up a chair and blanket and fell asleep next to you.
You had to wake him up yourself after you had your breakfast (Saving some for him).
He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he blinked awake.
“You sure do know how to keep someone occupied (MC)… Try not to put yourself out of commission so often, or I’m going to have to find a new partner.” He mumbled absent mindedly as he consumed the rest of your fruit.
Zayne
If you’re not being taken care of at his hospital, he’s going to whichever one you’re at and taking over immediately. He’s THE Dr. Zayne so of course, he’s going to have his way.
For plots sake you’re at Akso Hospital for now.
If he’s in his office, whatever he’s doing is stopped immediately as his main priority is you.
If he’s dealing with another patient, or in a surgery, he’s still going to remain with his current patient, but his nerves are at an all-time high, which somehow makes him work better.
Says absolutely NOTHING as he tends to your wounds. You can’t tell if he’s seething with rage at you getting hurt or deeply disappointed that you got yourself hurt.
When you finally get the courage to say something, all you can say is his name.
“Doctor Zayne…”
He says nothing as he finishes applying a bandage. Afraid to say anything else, you wait until he’s done.
He takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. He looks in your eyes, his own reflecting a type of tiredness you’ve only seen a couple other times you’ve been injured, but with battles instead.
To him, although you put your life in danger being a hunter every day, he’s reminded that the casualties of life are another thing he has to worry about with you.
He caresses your face and just whispers. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Rafayel
He’d called and texted, and you didn’t reply. Almost didn’t answer you when you called him the next morning.
When he saw you in the hospital bed, he got SO MAD.
Immediately hung up. You thought he was being a brat until he showed up to your hospital room exactly 10 minutes later.
“Some bodyguard you are…” He huffed, faux annoyed, as he pulled out fruit, water, a stuffed animal and balloons from his bag. How did he even get all this stuff in 10 minutes!?
Visits every day until you’re out. Argues with the nurses every time visiting hours come to a close. You have to tell him to shut up and go and apologize for him every time before they officially ban him from the hospital.
He brings his sketchbook in tow and draws scenes of you, you in the hospital, and car accidents tinged with red and dark blue. Even though they’re sketches, they still portray his feelings of anxious despair and sorrow of what could’ve been for the one he most cared about.
“Seriously, stop trying to get yourself killed all the time! … I don’t know what I’d do without you…”
913 notes · View notes
zyafics · 26 days
Text
play fake | part five
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
zya's notes thank u for being patient with me! <3
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
You weren't a cuddler.
At least, not with Rafe. When you fell asleep on his bed last night, he scoffed at the sight. How tired you were. How you immediately fell off post-orgasm. He had other plans, to make you come more, but it was obvious it wasn't going to happen. Instead, he helped you get under the comforter, and when you did, you instinctively pulled to the edge of the mattress, like you knew to put as much distance between you and him.
Rafe thought it would change by morning. That you would find yourself in his arms and he would be able to tease you about it. You didn't. Your hands tucked under your head, you faced the wall, laid on your side, and you did everything possible to avoid contact with him.
For some reason, it pissed him off.
Like he was mad at your subconscious when you didn't do anything wrong. He thought—assumed—you would let him in. When he poured a bit of himself last night, letting himself be vulnerable with you, he thought it was a gateway for you to return the sentiment. But, somewhere, deep down, you still didn't trust him.
He was the one who got out of bed first.
He went to the ensuite and took a shower, washing away his sweat and subtle case of hangover. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. He doesn't know if it's because, halfway through the night, clarity dawned on him or because he was crossed with a different drug than his usual high. Either way, he was grateful.
Until the ringing started.
It happened once. It was your phone; the ringtone too obnoxious to be his. Then, it ended. And started again. This happened a couple more times until Rafe got annoyed and stepped out of the bathroom to check on who the fuck was calling you so early in the morning.
It was your job.
He softens for a moment. He forgot that you had shit to do, that the two of you were on opposite sides of the economic spectrum. He may have luxury and all the time in the world but you had work. You weren't kidding when you said you needed to pull doubles just to stay afloat.
He wanted to wake you up and give you the phone to handle it. But, something about your sleeping position makes him hesitate. You look so peaceful. Calm. Like you haven't had a good night's rest in a long time and he wasn't going to ruin that.
So, he did something he probably shouldn't.
He turned your phone off.
He went back to the bathroom to finish the rest of his routine and when he came out, you were starting to stir. Your hands were rubbing the sleepy haze out of your eyes and you were searching around the room to figure out where you were.
"You're up." He acknowledges, stepping out into his room. "Get ready. We're heading out."
"Go where?" You mumble drowsily, trying to remember your own name right now, much less try to get ready. "Wait, what time is it?"
Rafe doesn't say anything, glancing at the present that sits on his desk. He grabs it, throwing it onto the bed, which you manage to catch in the nick of time. "Here, before I forget." He declares, going to his closet to exchange his sweatpants for some outside attire.
You look inside the bag, more thoroughly this time. You counted a total of fourteen Plan B packs, the stems of the tulips were slightly-wilted from lack of water, and the envelope isn't a letter but rather a thick wad of something—like cash.
"I'm not taking this." You pull out the envelope and slide it across the bed. Rafe glances down at it, then back to you, a scowl forms on his face.
"You don't know what it is."
"It's money," you say, easily. "That wasn't part of the deal."
"So what?" He steps forward, closing in the distance as he stands before the bed, grabbing the envelope and holding it out to you again. "You need the money. Take it."
"No." You cross your arms, stubbornly.
God, this fucking early in the morning?
He clenches his teeth. "Why the fuck not?"
You take a beat before you answer. "You wouldn't get it."
"Try me."
He looks genuinely serious about knowing your answer. Not just another way to pick it apart and fight back, but to be willing. It makes you consider telling him the truth. Sighing, you explain. "It's just... it means that whenever you fuck up, you get to put some money in it and it fixes everything. I refuse to let you think that you can wave some cash in front of my face and everything will be forgiven."
There's more reasons why you don't accept the money, not for the exchange you're doing, but you rather not get into that right now. That explanation, in this context, was the most appropriate.
"That's not... I..." Rafe trails off, his mouth slightly slack from the confession. That's not what he meant to do, but there's some merit behind your words, nonetheless. It is easier to flash his wallet than apologizing for any misdemeanor he committed. It's something he does. It's something he learned from his father. "I'm not."
You chuckle. "Say that more convincingly and I might believe you."
Rafe swallows, watching the gentle smile light up your lips. He didn't realize how much he didn't appreciate it before. Not until you gave him the whole silent treatment and called him out.
"It's not," he starts again with a clear of his throat. "I do that. I'm not gonna lie about that. But, in this case... It wasn't just that. You needed the money. I took it out of your paycheck to buy Plan B. It cost nothing to me."
You don't answer him, glancing back at the bag. "You already bought me Plan Bs."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can cover rent with fucking contraceptive pills."
Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you take his words with some consideration. You admit, this is a version of his apology, no matter how pretentious it may seem. With that, you accept the envelope out of his hand. "Thank you."
Rafe is pleased at that. That you finally didn't give him such a hard time to help you. That you just accepted it, even if it was done with some initial hesitation.
Pulling himself off the mattress, Rafe turns back to his closet, only for your voice to stop him.
"You know, it's a bit presumptuous of you to assume we'll be having sex this much."
He looks at you, seeing you tilt your head at him in a challenge. The bag lifted off your lap to demonstrate the amount he bought.
"It's so I'll ever have to hear you complain about spending money again."
You chuckle. There it is, the cover of assholery to make up for the vulnerability he exposed just moments ago. "If this is the rate we'll be going, you should've just bought me birth control."
"Fuck off, it's not going to be a regular thing."
You laugh. "I guess I'll just use these with my other boyfriends. Since we won't be needing them."
Rafe stills. He knows you're teasing him, to get a rise out of anything you can find yourself on. But something in his blood runs hot as those words escape your lips. At the idea of you with others. He turns back to the bed, lowering himself to your level before grabbing your cheeks in one palm.
It wasn't done roughly. That's the reason why your smirk is so fucking conceited right now. He wants to do something to make you take back your words.
But nothing came to mind. Not this morning. Not after last night.
Instead, he mutters, "you play too fucking much."
He releases you with a light shove, enough for you to fall back against the pillows. Rafe grabs the first thing out of his closet and walks back to the bathroom, and just when he's about to close the door, he hears your laughter erupt from behind.
After getting ready, by wearing whatever you could find in Sarah's closet—which Rafe made you use because she hasn't been home in over two months—you called to check in with Sailor. Your phone was off, for some odd reason, and when you called to make sure the place is running regardless of your absence, you agreed to go to whatever the fuck Rafe planned.
It was shopping.
You feel out of place the moment you arrive at the outlet downtown of Figure Eight. It's mainly for Kooks to come and shop, the boutiques and storefronts are out of your price-range for so many reasons. You thought it was a cruel joke for Rafe to give you some money, only to expect you to spend it in places like here.
"No," you shake your head for the umpteenth time, moving onto the next space. For the past twenty minutes, Rafe's been trying to get you to stop and try on clothes. You've been declining all of the options. You know you won't be able to afford them so there's no real point. You hope you reject enough of them that the both of you can leave.
"You have to pick a place at some point."
"I don't see why we have to shop here." You turn to him. "There's plenty of places near The Cut we can go to. It's cheaper."
His expression is sharp, as if the suggestion disgusted him to consider. “I'm not going to The Cut for their cheap-ass clothes."
"Well we're not going here either because there's no way in hell I can afford these clothes, Rafe," you retort, crossing your arms. He said he needed to get you some new clothes because your dress was too short, and since you don’t have many options in your closet, you agreed. You just didn’t expect to file for bankruptcy in order to afford it.
You're about to walk off again, furthering the sidewalk to preview the other shops you can't afford, when Rafe grabs your arm.
"You're not paying, alright?" He asserts. "Now, get into the shop before you piss me off."
You don't move. Not with that attitude.
"What's the magic word?"
"Fuck off."
You imitate a buzzer. "Wrong."
Rafe closes into you until he's right in front of your face. "If you are trying to get me to say please, think again, sweetheart, because there's no way in hell that I'm going to beg you for this."
You aren't intimidated. Glancing down at his hands, you ask, "how's your wrists, by the way?"
He rolls his eyes, forging annoyance, before pulling you to the nearest boutique. He knew it wasn't done without some willingness on your end, that your comment satisfied some power trip, and the two of you slipped through the glass doors of a fancy establishment.
An older woman welcomes you. She asks what you were looking for and Rafe answers before you get the chance to. When the saleswoman gathered the directive, she headed off to grab a couple of dresses from the store.
Rafe requested a private room. Since they had no such thing, this agitated him. However, since the store is mostly-empty right now and no one is using the fitting room lounge, Rafe’s mood slightly lightens. Sitting on the designated waiting couch, you head into one of the fitting rooms to try on the first item.
"What is this going to be for?" You ask, tugging on the strapless dress against your braless chest.
"There's a gala next week for Cameron Development. We're going."
You hum in response, acknowledging that this isn't a spontaneous trip done out of the kindness of his heart but because of your deal. The ploy you're fronting for Ward to see Rafe as reliable. You can't help but feel a small dose of disappointment.
Glancing at the mirror for a final check, you step out to find Rafe leaning against the long cream couch with his legs spread apart.
Rafe watches as you exit from the stall, reluctance pouring into each step you take. When you stop in front of him, you stretch your arms out to let him see the full details, before dropping them mere seconds later. "Good enough?" You ask.
"Turn around." He commands with a whirl of his ringed finger, making you roll your eyes but doing as he says. He studies the back. "Try another one."
Without another word, you head back to the room to pull off another dress from the rack. It became a routine for you: trying on one, doing a little spin for Rafe to see the completed look, waiting for his decision, before returning back to your stall to repeat.
None of the dresses have been a good fit, meaning you liked them, but Rafe found enjoyment in the process. This surprised him. He always hated going shopping for Wheezie or Sarah—especially the latter—but something about going with you, making you try clothes on for him, getting his opinions, stirs something primal in him.
He had to adjust his pants on the fourth dress you tried. That one revealed too much of your ass.
Despite your initial reluctance, you were starting to have fun. You never got the chance to be this girl—the one who spends their days dressing up, acting like a princess getting ready for her first ball—and it makes you excited. A little happy. But, you'll never admit it to Rafe.
However, your options are quickly dwindling. The saleswoman had to go to the front to gather some more dresses for you. As you pull the last one off the rack, you step out of the fitting room.
"Fuck." Rafe swears under his breath, watching you come out with a new piece. A long satin dress that clings to every curve of your body, showing off every impressive inch of your cleavage while leaving more to the imagination and a high slit that cuts up mid-thigh. It might be his favorite.
It was definitely yours.
"What do you think?" You prompt timidly, the lack of outright comment about your attire made you a bit antsy for his thoughts.
“I…” Rafe trails off, his eyes lifted to find yours. “What do you think?”
"Well," you spin, demonstrating with the little twirl that Rafe always makes you do. "I like it. I think it fits me."
"Then, let's get it."
You shake your head, laughing at the idea. "It's outrageously expensive. I can't afford it in this lifetime."
His expression shifts to an unreadable one. "I said I got it."
"And I don't think that's necessary. I can take care of myself." You say, which is true. You know Rafe has money, and you know he wouldn't feel a dent in his wallet if he bought it for you. However, the idea makes you uncomfortable. Not because he was spending money, but because you're letting someone else take care of you. Have power over something you spent your entire life controlling. It feels... wrong.
His jaw locks, his words sharper than before. "I took you here, that means I pay."
"No." You stand firm, shaking your head. "It's fine. I'll just try on something more affordable."
You go back to the dressing room without allowing Rafe to get another word in and he slumps back into his seat with mounting agitation. Rubbing his tense jaw, he can't seem to understand why you won't let him do things for you.
He's capable. He has money. All of this rationalization leads to one infuriating conclusion: why the fuck do you act like he has none of that?
It's simple.
You don't trust him.
"Rafe." You call out. It pulls him out of his spiraling thoughts and he turns to the closed door of your stall. "I can't get the zipper out. Can you help me?"
He was on his feet before you finished your sentence. Knocking, he hears the soft click of the lock as he pushes the door in, stepping inside the limited space. Standing in front of the large mirror, your back is turned to him.
Glancing over your shoulders, you offer him a sheepish look, "just pull it down. I think it's stuck."
He wordlessly steps forward before grabbing a handful of your hair and pushing it to the side. His large hands descend from your neckline to the tiny zipper tucked behind the fabric.
You watch him through the mirror, his expression is hard but his eyes are completely focused on the task at hand. A small smile rises to your lips.
When he lowers the zipper down to the end of the teeth, just at the midsection of your dress, he turns back to you. "Done."
"Thank you, boyfriend." You hum with a grateful grin, holding onto the front of your dress as it started to spill over from the lack of restraint. When you turn around, you’re surprised to find Rafe remaining. "I need some privacy to change—"
"Drop your arms."
The demand startles you. "For what?"
Rafe has the strongest urge to rip off your crossed arms himself, your questions delaying him of what he deserves, but he knows you. At least, he's getting to. Even if his mind is caught in a turmoil right now and he just wants to do something to prove to himself that you bare some semblance of trust in him, he can't force you. Not when he has an inch of restraint left in him.
He wants you to be willing.
Swallowing hard, he confesses. "Because I want to see you."
You can tell it took everything in him to say that. The corner of your lips finds your smile again. "You could've asked nicely."
"That is me asking nicely."
You chuckle, your arms still guarded over your chest. His eyes glance down. "Strip."
"Is this part of the arrangement?" You tilt your head, teasing out the moment a little longer. "An inspection for your girlfriend?"
He cups the underside of your jaw, almost in a chokehold. His eyes are hard on you, his patience wearing thin. "Stop playing with me, sweetheart."
You look up to him, doe-eyed and innocent. "Remove your hand, darling."
His jaw clenches at your own command, his grip around your throat sends a pleasurable sensation straight to your core. With great reluctance, he drops it.
"Who knew you'd do well with instructions?" You grin, taking a step back, closer to the mirror. Your heart is hammering with anticipation.
"If you don't remove them in five seconds, I'm ripping them off."
Excitement stirs in you. At the way he looks at you. The way he wants you. Rafe watches as you slowly drop your arms to your side, the flimsy satin glides off your body into a puddle by your ankles.
His breathing hitch in his throat as his hungry eyes take in your naked body, complete from head to toe, saved for a pair of panties hung around your hips that he's positive won't be there in the next few minutes.
There's a palpable silence. His eyes are intense but his words are obsolete. You needed something from him, some vocalization of his thoughts. Placing a hand on your hips, you ask, "did I pass?"
"You have a fucking nipple piercing."
You laugh at the astonishment in his tone, glancing down to your full tits and seeing the metal barbells lined through your nipples. "Is it not worthy enough of a Kook?" You ask with a tease, running the pad of your thumb over the sensitive bud, biting back a moan. "Am I going to get punished?"
He groans. Having enough, Rafe steps forward and captures your lips with his. His force pushes you against the cool mirror.
"I can't fucking stand you." He murmurs, his hand traveling down to cup one breast in his palm. "You were hiding these from me? The whole fucking time?"
The way he's handling you feels so good. "Didn't know I had to share everything with you."
"You do." Rafe asserts, his fingers pinching your sensitive tip and causing your whole body to arch. "God, they're sensitive, aren't they?"
You nod, needy. His hot mouth descends and his tongue swirls around the metal bar, eliciting a whimper from you. It's very sensitive, and you steady yourself against the mirror as Rafe lowers his other hand over your hips, pushing your panties down.
Rubbing your clit with one hand, teasing you with his mouth, you can't help but build towards a climax at the double sensation.
"Do you know what you do to me?" He whispers against your bare skin, his eyes flickering up to meet your heavy-lid gaze. "Parading around in dresses all day, trying them on for me?"
You feel yourself getting closer, but you can't help but tease him. "They weren't for you—"
His hand covers your mouth, the one slick with your arousal, and the removal of his touch leaves you empty and aching. You regret it instantly. "I don't want to hear you mouth me off again. You had your fun." He warns, his expression hard and resolute. "Now, here's what we're going to do. You're going to pick up that dress, fold it neatly on that chair, and I'm going to buy it."
A protest forms in your throat, but he catches it, deepening the pressure of his palm against your mouth. "Then I'm going to fuck you against this mirror. Remind you who you're with. Is that enough instructions for you, sweetheart?"
Desperate for a finish, you nod. Rafe watches as you pick up the dress and fold the fabric over the chair, before returning back to your previous spot.
"Turn around." He commands. You face the mirror, seeing your bareness in the reflection and the eagerness on your features. "Spread your legs."
You do, obeying him, and he chuckles darkly at the sight. "God, you're so fucking obedient now, aren't you?" He taunts, his eyes flicking to your face in the reflection as his hand lands a slap against your ass. "If I told you to touch yourself right now, you'd listen, wouldn't you?"
You would. The realization makes your face burn, your arms instinctively went to cover your chest. His expression hardens. "Not so fast, sweetheart," he grabs your wrist. "Do I need to tie them up for you too? Drop them."
Your pulse sputters, you lower your arms to your side, tucked. "I knew there was a good girl in there somewhere."
"Rafe." You whimper softly, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. "Please fuck me."
He grins at your plea, removing his slacks and briefs in one swift motion. You watch his swollen cock spring free, the tip running beads of his precum. Your mouth waters and you resist the urge to squeeze your legs together.
"You want this dick, sweetheart?" He teases, approaching you from behind. "You want me to fill that sweet, tight cunt?"
"Yes," you beg, "yes, please."
"Put your hands on the mirror." He instructs, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair, tipping your head back to meet your gaze in the reflection. "Look at yourself when I fill you."
Lining his erection against your entrance, you watch as he slowly enters your pussy from behind. The image is so gratifying and sensual. "So tight for me," he groans, a hand grabbing your hips to steady him. "Feels so fucking good."
Your eyes roll back to the back of your head as Rafe pumps in you, finding a pace, the angle from behind allowing him to hit deeper spots. You hold onto the mirror tighter, trying to contain your moans and the pleasure coursing through you.
"Look at you," he mumbles against the shell of your ear, causing you to meet his gaze through the mirror. "Taking me so fucking well."
You nod desperately, moaning at his thrusts roughly slams against your walls. "You fill me up so good."
"Just for me, right, sweetheart?" He lands a sloppy kiss against the side of your neck, to which you respond with a mewl. "My fucking girl."
Nodding, your eyes flutter at the way he rocks inside of you, your walls clenching around his length.
"Rub your tits for me." Rafe demands roughly, his pace growing more fervent as he watches your body through the reflection. You do as he says, using a hand to pinch and pull your pierced nipples between your fingertips, the sensitivity of your buds adding to the quickly-rising climax. "Fuck, I love watching you do that."
The praise unburdens something deep inside of you and your goal becomes to make him feel satisfied. Steady yourself with one hand on the mirror, your handprint greasing the clean silver, you play with your nipples further, twisting and moaning in your own pleasure. "Like that?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods heavily, his chest sheen with a thin layer of sweat.
"Fuck." His rhythm goes faster, the sound of his balls hitting the back of your ass echoing in the empty lounge and overwhelming pleasures causing your eyes to close shut.
Rafe catches that. Pulling you into him, with your arched back pressed against his chest, he roughly grabs your throat and forces you to open them, staring right at your reflection. "You're going to watch me fuck you, sweetheart," he pants into your ear, the sight before you driving flips into your stomach. "And you're going to fucking remember this."
Your hair is a complete mess, his hand wrapped around your throat as the other gripping your hips harshly to steady his sloppier thrusts, and you're being fucked in a public dressing room and loving each second of it.
Both of your moans and his grunts echoes. Your peak rising.
"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your thighs burning from the intensity of Rafe's pumps and your position. "I think I’m going to come—"
Someone calls your name.
Rafe stills.
"Are you in there?" The old saleswoman asks, her voice soft and delicate. You know she would die of a heart attack if she looked inside this room. "I brought more dresses for you. Where did your boyfriend go?"
"I—" Rafe begins to slowly rock against your body, his smile devilish in the reflection. "I–I'm here." You choke.
"Where did your boyfriend go? Did he leave you alone?"
No, you answer in your head, but your words are muddled as Rafe quickens his pace. Not enough where you can hear the sound of your pussy squelching, but enough for you to feel the returning buzz of your orgasm.
"Answer the nice lady, sweetheart," Rafe mumbles into your ear with a smile, pushing your hair to the side, as you send him a glare. Which quickly turns into a look of ecstasy as he hits your g-spot. You slap a hand over your mouth. "Don't be rude."
You had many words for Rafe, but none of them were coming out. You could only do so much. "He's–he's fine," you declare shakily, "I think he went to—" you let out a small whimper. Rafe's hand is now rubbing your clit in unison to his penetration.
You want to kill him.
You want to come so badly.
"He went where?" She prompts sweetly.
"The bathroom!" You shout with a half-moan, Rafe chuckling as he lays kisses on your backside, against your shoulder blades, increasing his thrusts. Your walls twitching around his cock.
"We don't have a bathroom."
Rafe tsk against your burning skin, shaking his head in forged disappointment. "Bad little liar."
"I'm going to kill you," you croak. Your climax builds so fast, you're trying hard to hold it off as long as possible.
"How are you going to come, then?" He taunts through the reflection, watching the way your body rocks with each drive. Your legs are weakening. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head desperately, almost to tears, gripping the mirror edge for the life of you. "Please, don't."
"Then answer her."
"Hello?" The woman calls out, her voice pitched with a slight annoyance from your lack of response. "Do you want to try on the dresses? Should I bring them to you—"
"You can just le–leave it out there!" You moan with abandon. There was no way to avoid it.
"Are you sure—"
"Go away, please!" You plead, Rafe landing a hard thrust against you and causing your knees to finally buckle. He catches your waist with one strong arm, holding you upright.
The old woman huffs at your brusqueness, her little footsteps padding across the floor and exits from the lounge. With that signal, Rafe slams into you, with harsh desperate beats, to make up for the lost time. You come within a matter of seconds.
Worn out, he holds you up for a few more pumps before he spills into you. His hot cum filling your cunt. You're catching your breath, your face is completely flushed, and Rafe holds you tightly as the both of you come down from your high.
With enough strength, you pull yourself up and lean against the mirror for support.
"That was rude of you," Rafe declares with a tease, going to grab his discarded clothes.
"I hate you." You pant, your legs wobbling from your own weight. "I hate you so much."
He chuckles, redressing himself. Watching him as he collects himself, his eyes glance over to the chair before finding your exhausted face. "Now, are you going to let me buy that dress or are we going to have to do this again?"
Rafe ends up buying the dress. You were no energy to argue, and when he pulls you to the register to purchase the expensive satin, the old saleswoman gives you a withering glare—either at your rude outburst or the product of your image being a clear indication of you being throughly-fucked in the dressing room—that you quickly exit the boutique.
It didn't stop at the clothes. Rafe also pulled you to a nearby jewelry store too. He got you a gold necklace; your argument was completely futile with one glance.
"The necklace was unnecessary." You complain, pulling out the gift-wrapped box in the passenger seat of his car. Rafe is driving you back to your house.
He glances at you from his peripheral vision. "You need to look the part."
"But did you have to buy the most expensive one?" You retort, glancing over to him. "There were cheaper options. There's even fake ones I saw at the end of the display."
His hand, resting on your thigh, squeezes the flesh. "You think I'll let my girl walk around with fake gold? Do you know what they'll say about me?"
"That you're financially responsible?"
He scoffs, pinching the inside of your legs. You giggle. "That I can't afford to give my girlfriend some nice things. I'm not fucking broke."
You roll your eyes, opening the box. Your fingers trace the gorgeous details of the necklace, landing on the pendant at the center. "R, huh?" You say with a tease, looking over to Rafe again.
He shrugs. "Had to let everyone know who you belong to."
You know this is a fake relationship, that this is nothing more than to keep his image clean, but you can't help but feel a buzz at the possessiveness of his words. It almost makes you feel like you’re his.
Rafe pulls up to your neighborhood and is about to pull up to your house, when you stop him. "Right here is fine," you announce, holding your hand over the clutch to make him park. He does, his brows furrowed at your abrupt reaction.
"I could drive up—"
"No, it's okay." You wave him off with a small smile, unbuckling your seat and gathering your things in the leg compartment. "The walk is good for me."
It isn't that far. It's just off the edge of your driveway, enough where it doesn't look like Rafe is coming into your house but close enough where he can see the front porch.
Grabbing your bags, you bid him a farewell. You close the door of the passenger side and rush up to your porch, Rafe waits until you make it into your house.
This is the second time you've done this. You never let him go further up your driveway. Don't let him meet you at the door. It was like you were hiding him—embarrassed of him.
His hand grips the steering wheel as he watches you ring your own doorbell, waiting a few moments before the door swings open.
And it was fucking Heyward and Maybank.
They set out to greet you, pulling you into a side hug while pointing at the bags in your hands, to which you shyly tuck behind your back to hide from them with little avail. Rafe tightens his grip against the wheel, his knuckles whitening, as he watches you step inside, closing the door—with them.
He should leave. He knows he should. That's what he promised himself he would do. But, knowing you’re in there, with two men, drives him to stay. He can't go up to your doorsteps, you wouldn't allow it, so he waited. And waited. And waited.
It was over an hour and neither Maybank or Heyward exited from your house. It drove Rafe furious. Deciding that was time, he turns off the engine and marches up to your porch, banging on the door.
You open it in a matter of seconds, afraid that you were getting raided by the cops. Your outfit had switched into a baggy tee with shorts—too fucking short, he decided—and your expression etched with surprise.
"Rafe? What–what are you doing here? I thought you left—"
"Where is he?" Rafe declares, glancing over your shoulders with tightened fists. Trying to gain control of himself before he snaps. "Where the fuck are they?"
"Who? JJ?"
"Is that it?"Rafe snaps, his anger rising in waves. "What the fuck is he doing here?"
"I...I was helping him...?" You answer hesitantly, watching his expression shift from rage to fury.
"Helping him with what? Fucking him?"
You blink back in surprise. Your words caught in your throat by his outrageous accusation that it renders you speechless. Rafe, catching it as hesitation, had enough. His last string of restraint snaps. Finally, he steps inside, forcing you in and slams the door close behind him.
He grabs you by the throat, his fingers gripping the sides, causing a pleasurable sensation to your core. "Maybe you're right," he declares lowly, his darkened gaze lowered to you. "You do need to be punished."
— part six here —
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laudthingcat · 1 year
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JJK// Your top lifts up while you sleep pt.2
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Characters: Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo
Tags: nsfw content, somnophilia, cnc
Part 2 of the series!! I really loved how the first part turned out so i want to continue it 💕 You can read part one here ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
Note: it’s been over a year since i posted this and i am growing tired of all the comments from blank blogs and blogs that belong to minors attacking me for making a fictional character fuck another fictional character in their sleep in a fictional story. Grow the fuck up and learn not to fucking read a story if you dont like the tags?? To everyone else who knows how to differentiate fiction from reality, i love you pookies <3
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Gojo: After another week away from you because of his work, he was finally excited to get back home to you. It was past midnight when he entered the apartment so he tried his best to be as quiet as possible since he was absolutely sure you were already asleep, and he was right. Entering the bedroom he saw you peacefully sleeping while hugging his pillow. He smiled to himself knowing that you missed him as much as he missed you. Making his way towards the bed, he could see you better, easily noticing this time that your top was almost completely rolled up and that you were not wearing any shorts at all. His face lit up since he really missed all of you. Taking a seat on the bed next to you, he leaned in and started leaving soft kisses on your exposed shoulder, slowly moving lower and lower, until he reached your thighs. God, he loved your thighs. Everything about them was perfect. Giving them a soft bite, he chuckled the moment you squeezed your thighs together. It was always a sign that you were getting horny and he knew it.
He had to check it so he slightly moved your panties aside, just enough for his hand to make its way inside of them. Using his middle finger he caressed your pussy before inserting it and a second one inside of you. Just as he thought, you were already wet and ready for a good pounding. So not wasting any more time, he got rid of his clothes and placed himself on top of you. After stroking his already erect cock a couple times, he lined it under your pussy. Grabbing a hold of your hip, he started moving. In between soft whimpers, he quietly laughed because he knew you’d get angry at him if you were awake since you absolutely hate being teased. You took him by surprise when you squeezed your thighs together once more, making him almost cum on the spot. Embarrassed, he cursed the fact that he was so excited, so he quickened the pace, knowing for sure that he won’t last for much longer. Not much longer after, he entered your pussy and pushing as far in as possible, he came inside of you.
Leaning in once more, he placed a tired kiss on your forehead. "A little warm surprise for tomorrow morning"
Choso: Waking up in the middle of the night isn't something uncommon for Choso. He's been struggling with insomnia since he can remember. What he'd usually do is stay in bed and watch you sleep while waiting for the morning to come. This particular night tho it was a bit different. When he woke up you were no longer in his arms. You were sleeping on your back, with your legs conveniently opened and your top no longer covering your abdomen and chest. The sight made him hard on the spot and there was nothing he wanted to do more than touch you. He hesitated at first, thinking that it wouldn't be ok for him to do so, even tho, as he clearly remembers, you did talk about this before, and you ensured him that you are absolutely fine and actually looking forward to that happening at some point. Making up his mind, he changed his position, now sitting next to you instead of laying down.
Being sure that you want that as much as he does, he went straight for your chest. Still very careful with his touches so that you wouldn't wake up, he cupped one of your tits and started squeezing and playing with it while devouring the other one with his mouth, all while rubbing his knee against your clothed pussy. Your tits were so soft, he could never get enough of them. But there was something he was even more excited about. The thought of filling you up with his cum from coming inside of you as many times and he wants without you even knowing was getting him on a whole different level of excitement.
He did just as he said. He came inside of you until you were full. He made you come multiple times too. He even managed to fall back asleep, too exhausted to actually stay awake as usual. When you woke up you were very excited to tell him about the dream you had, to which he paid full attention. He's found something else to do from now on when his insomnia kicks in.
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Note: I haven't wrote anything in over a year so i dunno if i still have it but oh well what never stopped was me being horny so i hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻
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deafsignifcantother · 2 months
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the v's reaction to someone taking your hearing aid
♥ summary: "what the Vees would do if they noticed their partially deaf s/o being picked on - like the other people would tear out their hearing aid(s) and break them and stuff" @aceduchessdragoness ♥ characters: velvette, vox, valentino ♥ notes: screaming and crying okay so i did val's spanish as spain spanish bc i think spain sign language would be better than narrowing his signs down to a specific latin american country but if the translation is cringe then tell me bc i'm literally using an lse dictionary
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Vox
♥ word count: 1.9k ♥ notes: i use [Y/N] for the first time in my career ong, she/her pronouns used in third person, reader doesn't speak and only signs, protective but violent vox, vox in a healthy relationship, reader gets harassed in public
It was never a mystery to you how Vox always knew where you were. Even without the watch on your wrist, you felt his eyes on you, the looming knowledge of persistent monitoring.
Not that it bothered you, of course. If anything, you were worried that he wanted to spend his time watching you instead of running his business. But whatever, it was flattering.
Whenever you went on your routine errands, you would smile at every television or security camera you encountered. On the big screens in Vox's room, he feels like the common softening of his heart. Your smile always seems so genuine. How can somebody like you adore him so much?
.
Blue light illuminates your living room. From the kitchen, you groan as you make your way to the television. Can he stop bothering you at this hour? All you wanted to do was get some damn water, but of course, as always, he's monitoring you.
Words pop up on the screen as you approach it. You rub your eyes, the brightness overwhelming. You reach for your coffee table.
GO TO SLEEP
With the sudden click of the remote, you smile as the screen goes black. One, two, three... it lights up again.
DON'T TRY
Again, the screen goes black. One... again, a bright blue illuminates you.
[Y/N]. The television shakes.
You snicker at him, finally sitting on the floor and putting the remove down. On the other side of that screen, Vox sits on his swivel chair, gazing up at you, your frame taking up multiple monitors. Your eyes look below where his point of view is.
"It's late," you sign, and the light makes your hands shine in the darkness. "Dim it a little."
He listens; his small act of consideration makes you melt. Your eyes soften immensely. Internally, he begs you to stop looking at him like that; it's embarrassing how good it makes him feel.
The television is still a blinding blue as you go from the living room to the bedroom; he follows you per any screen by your side. Worst of all, a flat-screen faces your bed, which was mandatory.
"Goodnight, Vox." You sign while putting your face up to the screen.
You turn this TV off, and to your delight, it stays off.
.
With a yawn, you stretch your morning aches away and lean your head against the table of your vanity. You get a few seconds of shut-eye before popping back up. Vox is watching; if he notices you're tired, he will try to be domestic and nap with you regardless of how much work you must do today. So you rub away your sleepy eyes and massage the tension in your jaw. Putting on your hearing aid is first on your daily to-do list; you'd like to hear if he pops up on your television and decides to update you on his morning. Sometimes, he gets so impatient. Next, while picking up your moisturizer, you try not to shiver at the coldness once it touches your fingers.
You wish yourself a good morning before rubbing it in.
At the same time of day, Vox was already up and doing his rounds, making sure his employees were getting work done. He gets antsy between when you wake up, and you get to the tower. Every morning once he sees you entering the elevator, he'll wait on the other side to welcome you in with a kiss to the forehead.
Vox checks his watch. It shows his favorite things: your vitals, location, and pretty little face whenever you dial him.
You've finally left your place, thank goodness. Pacing aimlessly has never looked good on him.
.
He stands by his window, looking down at the streets below, watching you approach. You're wearing your usual uniform, one that he picked out just for you; it consists of the same red and blue stripes he has on his everyday suit. It makes you an eyesore in the everyday crowd.
If you didn't know any better, you'd lift your head to see if you could spot him among the many stories. The building is beautiful, overpowering. The V tower's magnificent brightness outshines the rest of the V district. The constant noise of people always has you walking with your hearing aid turned as low as it can go without turning off.
With the pink light reflecting off your face, you look both ways before crossing the street, a bright smile on your face, stepping onto the asphalt before a hand grabs your wrist.
Vox furrows his brow at the sight.
You turn your head and see a friendly reporter and a cameraman, the camera not yet rolling. Your pupils flicker between them.
"Hello!" She smiles, removing her hand. With caution, you fully face her, stepping back onto the sidewalk. The 'professional' persona you've been forced to practice is finally coming to fruition.
"Hello! I'm Deaf; I don't think I'd be able to do an interview."
She flicks her hand and rolls her eyes in the most friendly way possible. "Not a problem," she signs, moving the microphone vibrantly, "I can work this out, no problem!"
You widen your eyes in a wowwwww, oh my god, that's perfect... "Oh, what a kind woman you are!"
Vox? You beg internally. Baby? Save me.
Up high, he doesn't remove his eyes from you. With the use of sign language, he can't listen in, and he can't tell whether he needs to intervene or not. There's nothing wrong with going to check, right? Or will he seem possessive, or scared? He doesn't want people to think he doesn't want you to talk to anyone. It's good that you get to sign to someone other than him and Velvette, right?
The camera starts rolling, and you square your shoulders, adjusting your sleeves for more mobility. The news reporter throws the microphone at the cameraman, who does not catch it but ignores it as she shows off her brightest smile.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I have the sweetest person in hell with me, [y/n]! Tell me, how long have you two been together?"
Of course, the news has been recognizing you recently. You've been seen countless times adjusting Vox's tie (he purposely fucks it up so that you'll step close to him) as well as wrapping your arm around his and pinching the corner of his screen endearingly before you give him a babying compliment. Many people have taken pictures and edited hearts around you two. People are obsessed with how "heavenly" your relationship is.
"Oh, many months now!" You nod to yourself, trying to stop your eyes from shining with admiration. You always get so soft when you think about him; it's one of the things people notice. She looks at him as if he's her entire world.
"Beautiful!" The reporter puffs out her bottom lip innocently. "I'm sure you make that man very happy."
What do you even say to that? I hope so.
"The happiest."
"Now," she doesn't hesitate to change the topic. "Are there any challenges you two face about your... differences?"
Your eyebrows raise before furrowing in confusion. Differences? At first, you think she means his television head, but when she notices you pause, she rudely clarifies. "I mean, with your lack of hearing, you know? Don't you find it a little embarrassing?"
You lean your body away from her. "What are you saying?"
The shock of the tonal shift has you freezing in place. The reporter looks at the camera, her eyes squinting with sadistic amusement. Her fingers twitch as she lifts her arm, not even looking at you before plucking the hearing aid from your ears. She crushes it in her hand.
At first, you grab your ear, pressing your hand to it in disbelief. Your face contorts, your shoulders dropping as you try to step away. Why couldn't you see this coming? And on television—is that where this is airing? The air around you goes quiet, the sensation of spatial awareness fading a bit as you stumble back, your hand still grasping your ear. The watch on your wrist hits your cheek, and without a second thought, you tap on the screen repeatedly. The next thing that popped into your head: her bravery is the most surprising.
With a brief fall of light, Vox stands where the lady once was. You eye him with uncertainty, a look you have never given him. He faces the cameraman, not looking your way. Your eyes go up and down his body; his stance is tense, his arms are folded behind his back, and his fingers sparking with small glimmers of electricity.
You see that lying behind him is the woman, body entirely limp, smoke coming from her mouth, and her eyes looking stuck open.
He speaks to the camera, pointing his finger at it, staring intensely into the shaking, blinking red light. Your hands link around his bicep. Composure, you remind yourself. You turn to the camera with a weary smile and lean your head against him.
.
"That'll never happen again." He stares at himself in the mirror. His dressers and tables are filled with claw marks from his previous meltdowns.
You just sit on his bed, crossing your legs uncomfortably, watching him as he goes back and forth between signing to you and mumbling to himself. You haven't said a word. You just keep your eyes on him.
He protected you in the way he knew best. He wanted nothing more than to put his hands on the sides of her head and crush her skull. It would stain his suit, awful. Even worse, your suit would have been ruined, too.
Should he force you to move into the tower? He's always wanted to. The commute would be no more, and you'd be safe from the outside.
Should he prevent you from leaving at all without him? No, that might be too much, but his entire body craves to keep you secure and protected.
He won't ask you what you want. He knows there's a chance you would just coddle him and tell him it's okay. There's no reality where he will do nothing; he must devise his own plan. But first (actually, secondly, after getting his anger out on his furniture), he wants to make sure his sweetheart is okay.
Once he calmed down and sat next to you, rubbing your thigh, he watched as you scrolled through social media, looking at the hundreds of people laughing and reposting the event. He shuts off your phone, grabs it, and tosses it across the room. You roll your eyes helplessly before he lifts his hands and signs to you.
"I will track everyone down and punish them severely, baby. No one will ever touch you again, or else they will the next flashing headline."
"I know, baby," you wrap your arms around his chest and lean into him, rubbing your cheek against the smoothness of his overcoat.
You hum against him, finding it in yourself to smile softly. Protector, protector, protector. You run those words through your head; they're comforting to their own extent. Suppose he ends up locking you inside the tower. In that case, it's better than him leaving you entirely over this (which, obviously, he'd never actually do). Spending every morning and night with him wouldn't be wrong. Everything happens for a reason.
He leans back onto the bed, his feet dangling off as you curl into his side.
Before resting completely, you use a hand to sign into his chest. "Everything will be fine."
Your coddling, though annoying, provides the most relaxing warmth to his body. He groans, wrapping an arm lazily around you, feeling the usual butterflies in his stomach as you press a small kiss to his collarbone.
.
.
.
Velvette
♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ warnings: reader speaks, part scene, getting harassed by a man, vox is in this too ♥ a/n: i completely headcanon that velvette took an asl class in highschool when she was alive, i have no idea how velvette usually acts in fanfiction so this is MY velvette now
Velvette found you, such a pretty thing, in your little corner of the internet, making content for your little community. That little corner of yours is where you told the news and interpreted a lot of banter from the overlords. Your channel was the perfect mix of education and drama, all for the Deaf community in Hell.
You were, as Velvette described, a tea channel.
She invited you to the V tower to show you around. The three V's introduced themselves to you in their own way, offering you a job. The bossman, ever so gentlemanly and charming, didn't let Valentino try and make sex motions to you for longer than necessary. And before Velvette forced Vox to scurry off, she forced him to snap a few pics of you posing with her as a faux collab.
You weren't stupid. You knew Velvette only wanted your attention to spread whatever brand she endeavored to popularize. But this might be a golden opportunity. You'd learn the behind-the-scenes from three different overlords, and the content you can produce will gather insane traction.
.
Velvette is just so sweet; the way she showed her care for you was just through gift-giving.
She loved putting together gift boxes for you, similar to the sorority kind. The boxes went from cute little baskets to a cardboard box resembling a PR send. These would always be set on your desk with a bit of note from her, each time she'd signed off her name with a heart.
Jackets, shoes, candies, jewelry, pens, everything. The gifts are versatile with familiar themes of hearts. Every day was like Valentine's Day when she was 'courting' you (did she even realize she was?).
She made you bags: totes, crossbody bags, clutches, phone pouches, coin purses, anything she thought you would need with an array of colors to match any outfit. She put in hair clips and pocket mirrors, cozy slippers and fancy journals.
She even got you two matching bracelets.
You love the smirk she wears whenever she notices you adorning anything she's given to you. Damn right, she thinks, I knew it would look good.
The most enormous box she'd ever given you was the day before one of her fashion shows. Inside were glorious clothes from her collection, all for you to pick out and wear. She really loved her stripes.
You put your hearing aid on, smiling at yourself in the mirror as you watch the charm she made you glisten in the light. With your bracelet ornamenting your wrist, you pat down your stripped outfit before taking a deep breath.
.
Your entrance reeks of reluctance. The temptation to retreat back to your room is unbearable. Seeing Velvette will definitely lift your mood; where is she? Surely, she'd be the highlight of the room, but amongst all the women with their eccentric colors and clothing shapes, you can't find your eye drawing to her anywhere.
The sounds of the party blend together in a nasty concoction; you can't help but turn your hearing aids off. The sound is similar to what it's like being outside in a heavy storm; the wind, the pouring rain, the blur and whine of the hearing aids. And instead of lingering by the double doors, you push into the crowd. You're the least recognizable in the crowd of celebrities, but it doesn't stop people from moving out of the way when you try to wiggle through. You're wearing stripes, her stripes. You're either bold or very special to her; they don't want to intervene.
But your stripes also get some people to stare at you longer than they would have otherwise. Across the room, in front of you, you notice a tall, almost shirtless model coming your way, directly staring at you. You break the quick eye contact before squeezing through a cluster of girls taking selfies. They won't let you through, grimacing but not laying any hands on you. When you turn to go the other way, the man is behind you, holding out his hand, waiting for you to put your hand in his.
You click on your hearing aid and scroll up. "What did you say?" You ask verbally, clearing your throat a bit.
His eyes bounce from yours to your hand, looking at what you're touching. His head tilts in interest. You don't like the sight of his smile.
"Oh wow." He says.
Immediately, "Yeah, no," Velvette puts her hands on your shoulders and tries to push you away. "I swear, don't even look at him, he's fucking insane."
He speaks over her, but you can't process his words over how close Velvette's lips are to your ear. Her warm breath sends goosebumps down your arms, and your spine straightens. This only makes her hum in amusement.
After turning and growling at him, she effortlessly maneuvers you away. Eyes watch you even closer now as she touches you. You let her guide you throughout the room with not a clue as to where she's leading you, if anywhere. But eventually, you two end up in front of a mirror the size of a wall.
She stares at you through the mirror. "Look at you," she signs, "extravagant as ever, darling."
"Thanks to you."
"Obviously." And she bumps her hip into yours. You laugh, mimicking the motion back.
You had ditched your initial motive of getting close to the V's to gain more information about them. They were fine people to hang out with, making you laugh and feel involved. Velvette gave you special attention that nobody in your afterlife has ever given. Her lipstick left stains on your cheek whenever she kissed you, and she made an 'appointment' in her schedule once a week to paint your nails the same black color as hers.
The afternoon went by quickly; you spent time clapping and watching models show off their garb. Velvette is a true talent.
But something ruined your evening. The air hummed with laughter and the rhythmic beat of music. Velvette had been whisked away by the other V's to overlook the crowd and count the people who had attended. Among the colorful crowd stood a familiar figure whose eyes sparkled with mischief. Different from last time, you don't notice when he starts to approach again.
"You," he coos, placing his hand under your chin. You must stare at his lips to comprehend his words over the music, an awful innuendo you wish you could have avoided. He leaned in closer to you, and in return, you leaned back. Valentino had told you a bunch of times to not worry if someone puts their hands on you, that it's a typical formality in Hell. You would always roll your eyes at him, never expecting a stranger to grab you like this.
You were mentally preparing yourself to dodge a kiss. But then, daringly, he leaned in and gently plucked the hearing aid from behind your ear, holding it aloft like a trophy. Fear flickered across your face, your hand instinctively reaching for it, but he pulled it away. The charm Velvette gave you dangles like a jewel.
"Don't," you say with desperation. He puts a finger in front of your face and waves it back and forth. He coos, using that hand to grab your face as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.
Your eyes are locked on the charm, and it's brash jolts. You almost beg for him to just give you the charm back.
In the middle of a conversation with Vox, Velvette raises an eyebrow; shocked and pissed, she glared at whoever had torn off your hearing aid. She mumbles, "I'd tear their hearing aid off and break it."
Before she can move closer to you, Vox puts his hand in front of her while watching the interaction. "Think before acting, Velvette."
Her frustration turns into anger as she pushes his hand away. He lets her run off; he holds a hard stare as her pink hair bobs through the crowd.
Your eyes are stuck wide with shock, and a million things run through your head, all relating to the appropriate situational response.
True to your casual self, you were having a hard time not just jamming your hand in his eyes and kicking his shins. Would you make Velvette mad? Vox?--Would that result in you being removed from the V Tower? It's all so complicated. Though you were panicking over a 'quick' decision, you and the man stayed in that position for a few seconds. He stayed laughing, dropping the hearing aid and stomping on it.
At almost the same time, Velvette threw a glass from someone's hand at the man, perfectly aimed, hitting him in the face. She lets out a small "nice!" before rushing to you.
Her hand runs down your face, and she holds you tenderly, not turning to face Vox as he puts himself between her and the man. Your eyes bounce around the entire room. Will you ever get a break from being at the center of attention?
"We're leaving. Now." she signs in a single motion so quick that it makes you smile, relieving some of the stress that's been making your head pound. She's able to sign so naturally now.
The crowd splits into two.
Behind the both of you, Vox is declaring an end to the event, apologizing to the people for the inconvenience. Velvette keeps muttering about him under her breath; you can see her lips moving and her face grimacing.
.
She has beads in front of her, a bunch of small charms with string. She signs, looking up at you. "I should have killed him."
You just watch her craft another charm, laying on her bed and kicking your feet. "That would have been funny."
She scoffs and smiles, her painted lips turning upwards. Her fingers trace over the beads, deciding which one to pick up. She wants to make it different than the last one, but what should it look like? She picks up a pink heart with a slight hum before sliding it down onto the string. She whispers to herself, perfect.
.
.
.
Valentino
♥ word count: 1.7k ♥ note: reader is a vodka drinker, i'm obsessed with writing a loving valentino, reader doesn't talk very much and prefers sign, sexually suggestive things happening but it's not nsfw, kinda written like ass, drugs mentioned but no named just symptoms, takes place on porn set, valentino kills someone, blood description
Every time you step into the studio, you're hit by the smell of sex, mostly the sweetened stench of that strawberry lube he loves so much. Visiting his work is not usually something you do often, but he's seem to be so busy lately that you can't help but bring him a drink, the most beautiful drink in hell: vanilla vodka. You can already see him licking him lips.
Strawberry lube, so prominent in your nose.
His legs are crossed and he stares at the scene in front of him, his sunglasses hiding whatever his emotions are, but his lips are still in a prominent scowl.
Though, when he sees you, his expression changes drastically. He stands with so much excitement that the actors stop to see what he's reacting to. All eyes are on you, you shy away from the attention a bit but Val doesn't seem to notice, else care.
"Amor mío!" One of his hands signs, running down his cheek while his bottom two motions for a hug.
Before you can initiate a hug, he wraps his arms around you and brings you into his chest, trapping your arms in. He's warm, vibrantly so, it's hard not to melt against him. You couldn't be surprised if you let out a small moan at the contact. Oh, how I've missed you so much.
He pulls away quicker than you'd like and takes the bottle from your hand, holding it up close to his face so he can examine it. "Burnett's, oh you shouldn't have!"
He hesitates, torn between his responsibilities and the irresistible allure of having a drink with the person he was enamored with. He's not so easy to whisk away from work, therefore (of course), you seem to be the only person who he is at every beck and call.
You smile softly, "I knew you'd like it."
With a laugh, he takes your hand and spins you, his free hands popping open the bottle, ready to embark on whatever journey you had in store.
He turns and addresses his employees, granting them a small break before turning to you with his sharp smile.
And together, you slip away from the set, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the studio for a simple moment of peace and luxury. Walls blazed with hues of pink and blue, you both find yourselves nestled on the fluffy couch in a lounge, a wineglass in your hand while he chugs from the bottle.
"You've been so busy." You sign. You switch the wineglass into your non dominant hand to avoid spilling any of the contents. Val holds the bottle with his bottom set of hands while signing with his top ones (he was originally going to do it the other way around).
“I know, princesa,” one of his hands comes up and squeezes your cheek. “Business calls, I cannot help myself.”
“Which is why I came to visit.” 
The two of you clink glass upon glass before taking a drink. He’s trying not to finish the drink before you, he’s making sure to take his time. He doesn’t want you to leave as much as he doesn’t want to rush the break. His eyes go over your entire form and take you in, there feels like an eternity since he saw you last. Why do you have so much patience for someone like him? It’s astonishing. Surely someone as beautiful as you could find someone sweeter than her. But he’s grateful to have you, he’s mildly addicted to that internal battle of whether he wants to cherish you or own you (perhaps he can do both? Something he’s never done before). 
“What?” You ask.
“Hm?” His fingers pinch together in the casual way of signing.
“You’re staring at me.”
“I can’t resist.”
“What were you thinking about?” You sign and lean forward, giving him bright eyes. Your gaze swallows him, moth to a flame. 
He matches your body language, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amor mío.”
When he tries to grab your hand, you pull away. “You're acting as if you're wine drunk.” You sign. You have a sappy smile as you put your glass to your lips. 
“Never,” he wiggles his fingers as he signs. You eye him carefully, debating asking if he's kept his favorite gun on him. There's nothing worse than a drunk Valentino.
After the wine break, he has to go back to work. He feels himself getting irritated as he walks back, why can't he just continue spending the day with you? Is it worth sending everybody home? No, he has a job to do, and he needs to complete it before relaxation. But maybe he'll consider taking breaks (his least favorite word) to spend time with you.
You follow, both of your hands holding his, clinging onto him like a child.
Everybody was still in the studio, waiting for his return, not daring to leave in fear of him coming back. Actors were talking to each other casually, away from the camera, it built a strange sense of community for you. They're so nice to each other off-camera.
He drags you to his chair still holding your hand as he sits in it.
Drinking with you had been a much-needed respite from these people. He made a mental note to gift you more wine.
You remove your hands from his and smile. “Get back to work, baby.” 
Pearly white, sharp teeth show through his large smile. He presses his lips against each of your knuckles while his eyes skin over all of his actors, counting them. He makes eye contact with one particular one, a woman. They stare at each other for more than a second. She's scowling at him and he squints his eyes at her. The fuck is your problem?
She usually looks at him with sultry looks, but now there's a sharpness to them.
But his eyes peel away from her and go back to you, he leans forward and presses a slow kiss to your forehead. He signs low, almost as if he's whispering a secret. "I'll come see you after."
You smile and start turning away. "Good."
Upon noticing your departure, the actors and crew start returning to their places, keeping an eye on Valentino and any commands he might make. Their eyes are always on him, worried to test his anger. But not all the actors were worried about testing his anger.
"Hey," an actress grabs your hand before you could reach the door and you turn to her. She talks, her voice making your hearing aids buzz, "Are you guys like, dating? Are you dating the Valentino? Like, literally one of the V's."
Her words all bunch into one. You blink, taking time to think about both what she could be asking and the connotation behind it. "Yes?" It sounds more like a question than an answer. Is that the correct response?
She hums and nods, her eyes wide in amazement. Her pupils are large. Her cheeks are hollow and she has strong eyebags. With a distant sound from Val, him talking to the crew, she looks back at him before turning to you. "I mean like, why? Why would he want you?"
Oh no. You try to move away but she just follows you, stepping in front of you closer. It's like being cornered, being trapped in an almost unavoidable situation.
"Why wouldn't he?" You test with a squint of your eyes.
She just smiles at you. "Uhm," and her arm reaches over, grabbing the hearing aid from your ear, pinching it between her claws, "Obviously this."
You reach for it but she pulls it away from you, trying not to laugh.
So you do what you know is the best solution, you call his name, practically screaming it. "Val!"
At the sound of you using your voice he whips his head around. The air goes still, you can tell from the way she pauses. Her pause is only for a second, she reeks of hesitance and sudden worry. She looks at the hearing aid in her hand as if she's finally realizing what she had done and what was about to happen.
Before she can say another word, her entire body stiffs, her eyes widen before her pupils roll back. And then she's on the floor, almost falling onto you.
You wipe blood from your cheek and groan.
Val stares at you, his expression unreadable. In his hand is his jeweled gun. He pauses for a moment to take a long drag of his cigarette, letting out a cloud of red smoke before he looks at his gun with a toothy smile until he tucks it back into his belt.
He starts to approach you and for a second you're scared, it was a primal feeling. He walked like a king.
All you can do is watch him, frozen in place.
The first thing he does when he reaches you is bend in front of her body, plucking the hearing aid from her hand. It's bloody, the liquid drips from it as he lifts it up. He wipes some of it off on his shirt before handing it to you. He drops it into your open hands.
He speaks, knowing you'd have a hard time understanding. "Laying her slutty hands on my angel..."
You lean into his touch when he caresses your face. His eyes gaze at you, softening, his smile widening at how soft your eyes look. You're his greatest treasure. He gets off immensely from protecting you, he would ravish you to death in this moment if he could. Valentinos eyes drift down at the body and his pupils narrows as he glares at the dead woman. He's going to have to clean this up. Her blood is getting every where.
One of his thumbs rub against your cheek, touching the bloody smear. It stains your skin in a delectable way. So perfect.
He melts when he sees your soft eyes slowly start to match the mischievous smile growing on your face. He protected you and he was open about being dithered over her behavior, he didn't laugh at it or tease you about it. You don't doubt for an instant that he's the man of your dreams. He killed someone for you in an instant.
When you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking the blood, his spine straightens. He pulls away immediately and turns around, yelling at the his workers that filming will be cut short today.
He just can't wait any longer to spend some lovely time with you.
1K notes · View notes
rosemaryfollows · 3 months
Note
Alastor, Husk, and Angel with an S/O who can’t get out of bed/do certain basic functions because of depression/PTSD?
𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃, 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔.
|| synopsis : They love you so much you silly ||
|| word count : 856 ||
[ CW: fluff :P, cursing obvi, thank you for the req anon i luv u <333 ]
[ NOT!!! PROOFREAD !!!]
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Alastor
✯ As of late, Alastor had been noticing the lack of your presence more throughout his days. ✯ He wasn't one to constantly check on you, but he had begun to show signs of worry. ✯ He had asked Charlie to check on you for him, but she just knocked and when she didn't hear and answer, decided not to bother you because she was polite. ✯ However, after almost two weeks with no signs of you, he let himself into your room.
"My dearest fawn! However are you doing this ever so lovely morning?" His voice was far too loud and far too energetic for you, causing a grumble to come from under your covers. He went over to a nearby window and opened the curtains with that ever charming grin of his. "Come now my dear! Surely you must be getting tired of doing absolutely nothing!" He chirps, his voice still covered by that layer of static as he stood by your bed now. "Not now, Alastor.." You'd grumble, not even bothering to turn over and look at him. When you heard nothing but silence, you figured he'd left and tried to resume your activities of nothing at all. It shouldn't have been hard, but your covers suddenly being pulled off of you, and you being pulled up to your feet. "Oh dear! You look, absolutely terrible! Lets fix you up!" Alastor would say, almost declaring it to the entirety of hell. With a snap of his fingers he would change your clothes, fix your hair and make you smell.. much much better. "See? Isn't that much better?" He would hum and pat your head almost condescendingly.
✯ Needless to say, he wouldn't be the best at comforting or caring, but he would at least make you look better before returning to the public eye with him.
��usker
✯ It would only take a day for him to notice your absence, though he could only check on you after his shift for the hotel.
✯ He would worry all day about you, and it was obvious in his work, spilling over shot glasses and sloppily cleaning his glasses.
✯ He already knew about your past struggles with your self upkeep, seeing as he did, practically the same thing.
✯ He would show up to your home, knocking on your door and waiting a few seconds. After he got no answer he'd make his way inside.
He'd call your name once or twice, the bags in his hands rustling a bit as he began to search for you. A slight pang started in his heart as he began to fear for the worst. He eventually got to your bedroom, knocking slightly before entering. "Doll-face? You in here?" He said, his voice low. His eyes landed on the shape of your body under the covers, his worries soften. "Darlin', you doing alright?" He'd ask, setting the bags down by your door and making his way to your bed, sitting on the edge. You could only give a mumble of an answer, but he knew well enough to tell how you were feeling. He would hoist you up and hold you against his chest, not minding the state you were in. His paw ran through your hair, giving a deep sigh. "I'm here, y'know. You aren't alone in this."
✯ He'd get in in full, wanting to be there for you as much as he possibly could. He didn't want to see anything bad happen to you.
Angel Dust
✯ Angel would take no time to notice your disappearance. He knew that just by associating with him, you were at risk of getting hurt by Val.
✯ When he'd go to, 'work', his performance would lack, due to his worrying if you were somewhere in the same building, going through what he was.
✯ He'd learn a lesson or two from Valentino for this, but he considered it nothing to the guilt in his heart if he had truly gotten you into the same rut he was in.
✯ However, when he'd visit your room, and actually find you there in your bed, he would rush to your side, thinking you had either overdosed or been hurt all this time.
✯ When he found you just lying in bed, not really paying attention to the world around you, but still breathing, he would be so relieved.
"Oh my fuck, babes, you scared the tits offa me!" He would gasp, putting his second hands on his hips, crossing the other two underneath his chest fluff. When you could only mumble a tired little, 'sorry', out, he dropped his arms down to his side and kneels on your floor, making sure you could see him. His ungloved set of hands came up and cupped your face, rubbing the soft skin of your cheek before he offered a smile. "Rough week, toots? Wanna tell me about it?"
✯ After the long, peaceful talk you two had, he lifted you up out of your bed and carried you off to the bathroom, vowing to get you back to squeaky clean!
[ haiiii!! hope this is what you asked for, and i hope you like it!!!! ]
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|| note: ​🇮​​🇫​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇾​ ​🇨​​🇴​​🇳​​🇹​​🇪​​🇳​​🇹​, ​🇧​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇺​​🇷​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇰​​🇪​ ​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇧​​🇱​​🇴​​🇬​!! <3 ||
772 notes · View notes
itsravenbitch · 1 year
Text
how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death
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a little backstory
— for the sake of privacy, we’re gonna say my boyfriend’s mother’s name is kay
kay’s “death” was caused by a car accident (wasn’t her fault) and she later passed in the hospital. this all happened in new york, and my boyfriend and i live in georgia. but about a 2 days after we found out, we flew out there.
my bf and his mom were super close so that loss was a lot on him. he started burying himself in the gym, sleep, work etc & eventually he became really depressed. he would not get up out of bed and i could not take that. that was when i decided to revise her death, and this was like a week after she passed.
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the moment i learned she was dead, i naturally entered the state of loss. so, i simply and quickly went over what state of mind i was currently in, and what state of mind i needed to be in.
now y’all know i love meditating <3 so ofc i meditated. the one i used is by edward art, i believe i’ve mentioned it before. but here’s the link 😌💘
so yeah after this meditation i had completely satisfied my imagination, i had a great feeling of serenity, and i was in the state of the wish fulfilled. + i let go of any need to control the 3d.
— reminder: don’t look at your 3d as something to change. things change when they change in consciousness/imagination. if you wanna manifest something, don’t point out your current circumstance as something that you need to change. be cool and fulfill it in imagination;)
— also sn: my boyfriend knows about the law but he doesn’t necessarily study or consciously use it. so, i didn’t tell him i was revising his mom’s death.
— and i had to continue to act like his mom was actually dead when i was around him, even tho at this point kay was 100% alive in imagination.
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so in the morning, i would wake up and assume the state of fulfillment. throughout the day, when i would go check on my boyfriend, he always expressed his feelings, how i could help, and new ways he was trying to cope. honestly, seeing him so hurt and confused hurt me. and throughout this, one of the few things i always reminded myself was that, i’m not my emotions and i’m my thoughts, and neither of those things matter (in terms of manifesting).
another thing i always reminded myself of was the fact that i’m god, BUT i’m also human. so, the ‘god me’ was relaxed & satisfied. the god in me also didn’t have a hurting boyfriend with a dead mom. but the ‘human me’ did and he needed my comfort.
so that’s what i did, i comforted him because he was grieving the death of his mother. so what? i’m human, and i have human decency so ima comfort my baby.
HOWEVER, i didn’t attach myself to that (accept it). i didn’t look at me comforting him as “his mom’s dead and that’s final”, i just did it because he’s my bf and he’s hurt. but i still maintained fulfillment in imagination.
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— i talk about this more in depth here. but basically the post acknowledges that yes, you’re god, but you’re also still human and you have a human life to respond to. so do that, respond to your life (when necessary) while simultaneously fulfilling the inner man.
as long as you continue to return to the state and fulfill SELF, you will manifest whatever it is you’ve fulfilled.
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when it manifested
the night before it manifested, my bfs dad asked everyone (the family) over for brunch. just so everyone could be together during rough times and whatnot.
the next morning when we woke up, my bf.. it was like he completely reverted; he just went back to his regular self. i made sure to take a mental note of it.
as we were driving to his dads house he was acting very normal. all that pain, hurt, etc was not there. his whole energy was different. then what really got me was when we had got to a red light. he said “i already know my moms threw down, i wonder what she cooked”……….and i’m like, i know i’m not trippin. just went along with it and agreed with him cause what was i supposed to do lol😭?
so we pull up to the house and get to the door, and one of his brothers opened it. as we’re saying hi and walking further into the house we start smelling food and my bf goes “YUP! I KNEW IT!!”
then he walks into the kitchen and says “hey ma watchu in here cooking? it smells good”……. and his mom was literally standing there smiling before she gave him a hug.
this all happened naturally by the way. it was like… she never died😂😂 the power of revision yall!
anyways the whole afternoon went by like nothing ever happened.
i honestly thought it was pretty funny. knowing how they used to interact with each other while they were grieving kay’s death vs now was hilarious. and what makes it funnier is they never knew and never will 😂😂😂
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so there y’all have it, how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death. sorry i made y’all wait so long:) i literally got so demotivated while trying to type this.
feel free to ask questions cause ik yall got some😩😂 love y’all 🫶🏾
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 4 months
Text
Didn’t Mean It » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: After a bad day at work, Bucky accidentally yells at Y/N without realizing it. When he does realize it, he buys her favorite flowers and snacks in a way of him apologizing.
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, language, brief mention of alcohol, yelling, crying, kissing, pet names (doll, babydoll)
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.
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Bucky sighed as he walked through the door of yours and his apartment. He took off his jacket, tossing it onto the back of the couch before taking a seat and running his fingers through his hair. You walked in the living room, smiling when you seen that your boyfriend is home.
“You’re home!” You say, sitting down next to him.
You went to kiss his lips, but he turned his head and you ended up kissing his stubbly cheek making you frown in confusion.
“What’s wrong, Buck?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Nothing.” Bucky says, unwrapping your arms from his neck and stood up.
You stood up too and followed him to the kitchen. You watched as he opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. He opened it and took a sip of it. You approached him and wrapped your arms around his waist and looked up at him.
“Are you sure nothings wrong?” You asked.
“Nothings wrong! Stop asking!” He sets his beer on the counter. “I haven’t been home for 5 minutes and you’re already clinging to me!” He yells, pushing you away from him causing you to stumble a little.
He grabbed his beer and went back in the living room with you following behind him.
“Did something happen at work?” You asked.
“Nothing happened at work! How many fucking times are you gonna ask me the same damn question?!” He asks.
“I just—” Bucky interrupted you.
“You just what?” Bucky mocked you causing you to go quiet. “That’s what I thought. Now why don’t you shut the fuck up and stop being so god damn clingy.” He says.
Bucky has never yelled at you. Your bottom lip quivered. You turned around and went to the bedroom, closed and locked the door behind you and threw yourself on the bed and started crying. Realization hit Bucky a few minutes later.
“What the hell did I just do?!” Bucky asks himself.
He got up off the couch and went to the bedroom, only to find out that the door was locked. The door knob jiggling startled you.
“Doll?” He knocked on the door a couple times. “Doll please.” He pleaded.
You didn’t stay anything. You tried your best to muffle your cries with a pillow.
“Babydoll, I’m so sorry.” Bucky starts. “I didn’t mean to yell at you and say all of those things.” He says.
Bucky waited a moment, thinking that you would forgive him quickly and open the door, but you didn’t. He sighed and sat down on the ground next to the door, leaning his back against the wall.
“I’m here if you want to talk or if you need anything.” He says.
You didn’t even realize that you fell asleep until you woke up the next morning, still wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday. You rubbed your eyes and got out of bed and went to the bathroom. You looked in the mirror and seen your eyes all red and puffy from crying. You sighed and splashed some cold water on your face and dabbed it dry with a towel. You walked out of the bathroom and unlocked the bedroom door and opened it to see Bucky sleeping with his back against the wall. You quietly walked past him and went to the kitchen to make coffee. Bucky woke up after a few minutes and seen the bedroom door open. He quickly stood up and went in the bedroom, but didn’t see you in there. He checked the bathroom, but didn’t see you in there either. Bucky began to panic, thinking that you left him. That’s when the smell of coffee hit his nose. He immediately went to the kitchen to see you pouring yourself a cup of coffee. He let out a breath of relief and approached you, hugging you from behind.
“Morning, doll.” Bucky says softly and kissed your cheek.
You didn’t say anything. You used all of your strength to push him away and went to the living room with your cup of coffee and turned the TV on. Bucky followed you like a lost puppy.
“Babydoll, I’m sorry for the things I said last night.” He apologizes.
You still didn’t say anything. You stared straight at the TV and took a sip of your coffee.
“Babydoll please.” He pleaded, putting a comforting hand on your knee.
You pushed his hand off of your knee. Bucky sighed before standing up and grabbing his jacket.
“I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. Let me know if you need anything.” He says before walking out of the apartment.
Bucky walked down the street with his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground. His mind reflected on the memories of him yelling at you last night. “What the hell is wrong with me? Why the fuck would I yell at the love of my life?” Bucky thought to himself.
He looked up and seen your favorite market that’s down the street from the apartment complex you two live in. Bucky smiled to himself and went inside of it. He seen your favorite flowers and some of your favorite snacks. He picked out one of each snack and grabbed a bouquet of your favorite flowers and paid for everything. Meanwhile, you’re sitting on the couch and scrolling through social media with the TV playing as background noise. A shiver went through your body. You went to the bedroom to change into something warmer when one of Bucky’s sweatshirts caught your eye. You grabbed it and put it on, already feeling yourself getting warmed up. You went back to the living room and sat back down on the couch when you heard the door open and close. You knew it was Bucky, but didn’t pay much attention to it. Bucky walked in the living room with a couple of plastic bags and a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
“I got these for you.” Bucky says, handing you the bouquet.
You looked at him silently and took the bouquet from his hand.
“I got you some of your favorite snacks at the market down the street.” He says, sitting next to you.
You looked in the bags without saying anything.
“It’s ok if you’re not ready to talk to me yet.” Bucky starts. “I just want you to know that I’m really sorry for the way I acted last night. I didn’t mean to yell at you and say all of those rude things to you. I just—” You silenced him with a kiss.
Bucky smiles against your lips and cupped your cheeks. You pulled away, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.
“I forgive you.” You say.
“You do?” He asks.
“Yes.” You nodded. “I mean I was upset that you yelled at me and then I realized that people have their moments.” You say.
Bucky smiles and kisses you passionately.
“I love you so much, doll.” He says softly against your lips.
“I love you too, Buck.” You say with a smile.
You pulled away from Bucky and stood up to put the flowers in a vase. You smiled when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.
“You’re wearing my sweatshirt.” He says, kissing your cheek.
“It’s warm and smells like you.” You say, leaning back against his body.
“How about we spend the rest of the day watching movies of your choice and eat those snacks I bought.” Bucky suggests.
“Mhmm, I like the sound of that.” You say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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rayne-astrophile · 2 months
Text
i think i'm getting into another fandom :"D
Mashle x Reader Headcanons
When they were sick for the first time after getting into a relationship with you
Mash
Bro doesn't realise that he's sick
You have been pointing it out since morning, but he doesn't want to listen
He rarely gets sick, after all
So when he finally accepts the fact that he's actually sick, you help him get into bed
Nothing much happens, he's obedient
Until you give him medicine
He throws up after eating a pill
"T-Too bitter...."
You have to mix the medicine with the cream puff
At first, he'll be like "???" because the cream puff tastes like the medicine he threw up
But he finishes anyway, because it's the cream puff you made for him
After that, you give him another one to make up for that trick cuz you feel bad
He'll ask you to cuddle with him in his bed
He's a large teddy bear
The next day, he's already well, but you get sick because of the cuddle from last night
He'll ask Lance to help him take care of you ❤️
Lance
This man refuses to accept the fact that he's sick
"I'm not sick, I never get sick, I can't get sick because Anna needs me-"
"Anna will be upset if you don't take care of yourself."
And on the bed he goes
Nothing much to do, he can take medicine well
But he can't take it when you want to feed him porridge that you cook for him
"Stop, I'm not a child!"
"C'mon, this is the only time I can be romantic with you!"
After an argument that you barely win, you get to feed him
His cheeks are red when you reach out a spoonful of porridge, but the delightful smile on your face makes him eat anyway
It's true, both of you never have romantic moments together
He always focuses on healing Anna, and you respect that
You don't complain at all, and he's definitely grateful for that
For not leaving him because he puts his priority on someone else instead of you
Welcome to reality guys, family matters more than lover
That's why he doesn't mind it when you stay with him the whole day
This moment is the only time he spends with you, with you alone
Before, whenever he gets sick, he's always by himself
So when he has you, he's so grateful
For your love and patience for him
The next day, everything went back to normal
Both of you will act like usual, like friends do instead of lovers
Except for the fact that he always stands by your side instead of being beside Mash, Dot or Finn
It's a small change, you barely noticed it but you do anyway
And that just makes you love him more ❤️
Rayne
He knows that he's sick
The moment he wakes up, he knows there is something wrong with him and figures that he has a fever
But man doesn't care
He has a job, and he doesn't care about himself
But he has you, and you care for him
At first, you don't notice it
But when your hand accidentally brushes his, you can feel that he's burning
But he's quick to deny it
"Rayne! You're sick-"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
You force him to rest, but you know how he is
You give up and ask Wahlberg to give Rayne a one-day break, and he immediately agrees
He knows that lad needs rest too
So you come to Rayne, the wide grin on your face makes him furrow his eyebrows
"I asked Wahlberg-san to give you a one-day break. So let's rest!"
He sighs
"You're truly a stubborn one, aren't you?"
"You are, too!"
But he knows, that is one of the reasons why he falls in love with you
He lets you take him back to his dorm and tuck him to bed
You tend his needs; food, medicine and check his temperature from time to time
You never leave his side, and he doesn't complain
When the class time comes, he lets you go. He thinks he's not important enough for you to skip classes, so he tells you to go to class
You did go to class anyway, because you know he won't be a brat and get off the bed until you're back
After the class session, you go back to his dorm to check on him
When you arrive, he's sleeping
He looks so cute in his bunny blanket
You try to not make a sound, but when you touch his forehead to check on his temperature, his eyes snap open, startling you
He immediately sits up despite your protest
"I made some notes for you. You can catch up with the syllabus later, but you need to rest now."
He's grateful that he chooses you to be his partner
You make him a porridge and he lets you feed him without a word
This makes you happy, because you never have such moments with him
Rayne is a busy man. He never really has time for you, but you understand
So you treasure this moment so much
After feeding him, you tuck him back to bed and put a damp towel on his forehead to ease the temperature
When you think that he's sleeping, you play with his hair while sitting beside the bed happily
Little did you know, he's awake all along
He likes it when you play with his hair. It's soothing
When the night comes, you ask his roommate to switch with you for a night
At first, Rayne says that it is unnecessary, but you are his girlfriend, you have the right to be worried
You sit on a chair beside the bed, telling him about your day
He listens of course. This is the only moment he can spend his time with you, after all
Then, when you're getting sleepy, you rest your head on your palm as your elbow rests on the bed as you talk to him
He notices that you are getting sleepy
"Come, get on the bed." He offers
You had done everything for him today
You tend his needs, go to class, and stay by his side without break
He doesn't even know if you take your meal or not
So sharing a bed with you is the least he can do
At first, you refuse because you don't want him to be uncomfortable
But when he insists, you happily agree
You would take as small space as you could on the bed as you're still worried that he might get uncomfortable
But then he grabs your hand and pulls you into his embrace, shocking you
"Rayne...?"
He rests your head on his chest as his warmth engulfs you
"Don't talk. Just sleep,"
You try to raise your head to look at him, but he pushes your head back against his chest
But you can hear his heart beating fast
"....I'm sorry I can't spend time with you." You hear him mutter. "I can't give you attention like any other boyfriend does. I can't even spare a glance at you some days. Yet you're still here for me," You can't help but feel your heart ache at the vulnerability in his voice. You take his hand from your head and hold in yours as you raise your head to look at him. "I told you I love you, didn't I?" You smile softly at him. "It doesn't matter if you don't have time for me or if you can't give attention to me. I choose to love you." He can feel his heart skip a beat as you grin. "And you can't stop me from loving you, you should know that."
He shoves your face back to his chest as you let out a muffled 'oof'
You can hear his heart beating faster, making you smile
Oh, how you love this man
You wrap your arms around him and giggle
"I guess I need to wait until you get sick again to get your affection like this,"
"Oh, shut up."
I just love this man so much
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