Tumgik
#BUT I COULD IDENTIFY THIS TOO. WITH EASE.
bi-writes · 1 day
Note
If you have time I am kindly asking for Simon and the teams POV on the arranged marriage fic!! Like why they put that ad out! I also think they’re silly for doing the whole ceremony in their gear 👉👈
the arrangement prequel
it wasn't much of a choice. ghost knew this was coming, knew this might happen--disciplinary action from the increasingly...unorthodox ways he was coming back from an op.
one too many times, a capture or kill became looking for the pieces of their target scattered across the field. an accident on the way back to interrogation--he doesn't know how his blade ended up embedded in their mark's throat. he misfired his gun--it's too bad it went straight through that prisoner's forehead.
disobeying without saying no. taking matters into his own hands without exactly defying the rules. ghost had been walking along the boundary line for a long while, and he knew eventually someone would realize the risks he was taking.
it was kate's idea. ghost needed something to chew on, something to satiate the hunger in his bones. a companionship, is what she tells price, but even he knew that was a stretch. anything given to ghost would surely be shredded apart on impact. anything that belongs to him ends up tucked underneath layers of shadows, not to be seen again.
but ghost is the best at what he does. all kate needs is for him to fucking listen once in a while.
when they ride back in the humvee, ghost is fiddling with the chamber of his pistol when price speaks up.
"got somethin' new," he says, looking into the rearview mirror. the sergeants shuffle a little closer to hear him. "new program between CIA and SAS. pilot program, not...exactly routine. but they'd like one of you lot to be the first to participate."
"what is it?"
price clears his throat, "the legality is a grey area. but both parties need to be willing."
"spit it out, cap'n."
"an arrangement of sorts," he says finally. "it's...not a secret 's hard to keep a bird with the things we do...always away, hard to reach. but you're the best at what you do, and i think if you take it seriously, it could be good for one of ya."
soap snorts. "cap'n, ye wanna play matchmaker with us? see if we're worthy of little bonnie spies?"
price snorts, rolling his eyes, "i need you to set an example, is what i need. i need one of you to step forward."
ghost looks up when he says that. his eyes flicker, and he looks at his captain, who keeps his eyes on the road as he drives. he hears what price doesn't say. this is your punishment, he imagines. and you will take it and not say a word, like the lieutenant that you are.
in the dark of his room later that evening, he opens the file with your name typed across the front. CONFIDENTIAL it reads, and he flips the manila folder to spread your profile out onto the desk.
you're smiling in the first photo. it's a headshot, from high school maybe, from college, a pretty photo of you beaming at a camera with a nice background. he eyes your height, weight, measurements, the skills they've identified and the answers to your questions about why you want to participate in the program.
Q: What kind of partner are you looking for? A: Resistant. Unmovable. Loyal.
Q: Why do you want to participate in this program? A: I'm tired of being disappointed.
Q: What are some of the qualities you possess you would like your partner to know about you? A: I'm not afraid of what I don't know.
short answers, straight to the point. affirmative and honest, with no room for interpretation. ghost doesn't need interpretation; he knows what it is you're saying.
when he looks back at your picture, he brings it closer, narrowing his eyes as he studies you. the smile you wear, while beautiful, isn't real. it's a persona, a ruse, a costume that you wear to put the outside world at ease. you understand that a smile makes you agreeable, but he knows, somehow he knows, that there must be a tick that you feel that no one is able to quiet, an anger and a lilt to the soft voice you must speak in that carries the weight of your defiance and your disappointment with everything the world is that you thought it wouldn't be.
ghost isn't told that the program is a lie. you aren't an operative for the CIA, you aren't some kind of spy in need of company. when he reads the rest of your file, he is amused because he knows the rest is made-up bullshit that doesn't apply to you. you are as civilian as they come, but with how well you lie, he wonders if you should be recruited just for that.
with just a little training, he thinks perhaps you might be everything your country needs and more. a little blood wouldn't scare you.
it's weeks later when ghost eyes the date on his calendar. he has marked it with an X, black marker haphazardly traced there to indicate the day. he told price he doesn't want bells and whistles--no music, no men, no party. an unmarked room and his bride is all that is necessary.
he steps outside to smoke a cigarette. he sucks on it gently, blowing it out to the side, and he eyes the car that pulls onto base carefully. when price steps out of the drivers' seat, ghost stubs out the cigarette and turns the corner. he catches a glimpse of a lace veil before he disappears.
and when he steps into the room hours later, your back to him, he can't help the way his pupils dilate and the way his body goes rigid with rage. there you are, standing there, in white silk and lace, your back to him but the picture of elegance and the presence of something honestly deserving.
it is only when he lifts the veil off of your face and sees those eyes that he understands what you are, what you wear.
a façade, a beautiful mask of your own, to cover up the ugly you hold on the inside.
he smiles under the mask when you kiss him over the fabric. because fuck, yes...he doesn't care where you have come from. he doesn't care that they lied about who you are, that they didn't tell him the truth, that in all honesty, they have given you to die and you don't know it--he doesn't care because it worked, at least for him. the finest flesh he has ever set his eyes on. he cannot wait to brand you for what you are worth.
if they meant to punish him for the crimes he has committed, he is sorry. because you are his reward, and there is no hell to pay.
296 notes · View notes
pin-k-ink · 3 days
Text
mania // hinata shoyo
Tumblr media
tw ⇢ childhood friends to lovers, possessive!hinata, borderline obsessive behavior, teasing, squirting, cunnilingus, manhandling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, grinding, hinata takes a picture of you while you’re covered in cum
wc ⇢ 8.5k
Tumblr media
The blaring of your alarm jolted you awake, the last wisps of a strange dream quickly dissipating. Groaning, you reached over to silence the incessant beeping. Another day, another monotonous routine to slog through.
As you raised yourself up on your elbows, you noticed a moving truck parked outside your window. Huh, someone new must be moving into the apartment next door that had been vacant for months. You supposed you should introduce yourself as the neighbor at some point.
You watched with detached interest as a figure emerged from the truck, hoisting a box into their arms with ease despite its considerable size. They wore a baseball cap pulled low, shielding most of their face from view. Suddenly, the person paused, turning to look in your direction. Even obscured by the cap's brim, you registered a pair of distinctly familiar bright eyes that sparked an old warmth within you.
Could it be...? No, it couldn't possibly...
As if hearing your internal questioning, the figure reached up with their free hand to remove the cap. Instantly, you gasped softly in recognition at the sunlight catching on his tousled orange locks and the gentle, friendly features - those of your childhood friend and neighbor Hinata Shoyo whom you hadn't seen in nearly a decade since his family moved away.
But as you drank in the rest of him, you realized this was not the Hinata you remembered. His compact frame had broadened substantially into toned, powerful muscles that rippled beneath his shirt as he moved. Faint tan lines gave a glimpse of the athlete's build lying underneath. Your gaze lingered perhaps a moment too long, feasting on the sight.
It was then that a myriad of conflicting emotions welled up - shock at his unexpected return after so many years, happiness to see your dear friend again, but also a growing flutter of something else in the pit of your stomach you couldn't quite identify. The tiny, energetic boy you fondly recalled was gone, unmistakably.
When Hinata's penetrating stare met yours once more, the intensity simmering there rattled you to your core. It was as if he were seeing straight through you, into you, assessing your reaction to his transformation in minute detail. You looked away sharply, heat creeping up your neck as your heartbeat quickened for reasons you didn't fully understand.
One thing was for certain - the reunion with your long lost friend was about to make your life anything but monotonous...
You stood there, still trying to process that the tall, chiseled man before you was actually little Hinata Shoyo, when he suddenly broke into a blinding smile and started bounding towards your door. Before you could even react, your front door burst open and powerful arms were enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug.
"(Y/N)! I can't believe it's really you!" Hinata's deep voice reverberated through you.
As he squeezed you tight against his firm body, his large hands splayed across your back, one slipping perhaps a little too low without meaning to. You gasped at the unbidden thrill the innocent contact sent through you. Get a grip! This was your childhood friend, for god's sake.
Pulling back finally, you drank in Hinata's features again up close - the sharpened jawline, intense eyes that seemed to glitter with unrestrained joy and something else you couldn't quite place, kiss-swollen lips quirked into a roguish grin.
"Shoyo! I...wow, you've really..." Your voice trailed off as heat flooded your cheeks.
His grin widened mischievously, as if he knew exactly what you were flustered about. "Yeah, I've changed a bit since we were kids, huh? The big leagues will do that."
There was a self-assured cockiness there that the old Hinata definitely lacked. His hands were still planted firmly on you, his thumbs tracing maddeningly slow circles against your sides that had you struggling not to squirm.
"Hey, why don't you come over in a bit after I get settled?" he asked, that molten gaze boring into you. "We have a decade to catch up on, after all."
You couldn't be imagined the darker undercurrent, the subtle heat behind his words and body language. This reunited friend dynamic was quickly veering into dangerous territory. Still, you found yourself nodding dumbly in agreement before he released you finally.
As you watched Hinata retreat back towards the moving truck, you realized with a start that he moved with the same fiery confidence and intensity he always radiated on the court - except this time, it was directed solely at you. A shiver ran down your spine at the implications.
What had once been an innocent reunion between childhood friends was rapidly becoming anything but. You didn't have the slightest clue just how obsessively Hinata's desires had been simmering underneath the surface for you all these years.
A few hours later, you found yourself standing at Hinata's door, your nerves a bundled mess of anticipation and trepidation. You had changed outfits twice, uncertain why you felt the need to put in any extra effort for hanging out with an old friend. But the simmering tension from earlier had you feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious.
Taking a steadying breath, you rapped your knuckles against the door. It opened almost immediately, as if Hinata had been waiting right on the other side. He greeted you with that same earth-shatteringly warm smile and ushered you inside.
"Make yourself at home! I just put the kettle on for some tea if you'd like."
You nodded, drinking in the neat but still half-unpacked surroundings. Pictures were already hung up - most showcasing Hinata's impressive volleyball accolades, but a few candid shots of the two of you together as kids. A pang of nostalgia hit you seeing your grinning young selves, so blissfully ignorant of what the years would bring.
"Those were the days, huh?" Hinata's deep voice rumbled beside your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
You jumped slightly, not realizing how close he had gotten without you noticing. He was radiating warmth like a furnace, his clean, crisp scent enveloping you and cranking up your pulse.
"Y-yeah, I can't believe how long it's been," you managed, hating how flustered you sounded.
Hinata held your gaze a beat too long, as if studying you, before thankfully the tea kettle's whistle pierced the tension. He flashed you another knee-weakening grin before brushing past you towards the kitchen, his arm grazing your side ever so lightly.
You sank onto the couch, trying to collect yourself as Hinata pottered about preparing the tea, seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having on you. This was just Hinata, your innocent best friend growing up...right? You had to be misreading the heated looks, the weighted silences, the proximity.
By the time he returned with two steaming mugs, placing one in your shaking hands, you had mostly regained your composure. Hinata took a seat beside you, his broad shoulders bumping against yours in the tight quarters. The smell of his intoxicating cologne clouded your senses again.
"So..." He took a long sip, those hauntingly amber eyes flickering over you from beneath his lashes. "What did I miss while I was gone?"
And so the two of you fell back into familiar banter and catching up, the years seeming to slip away with every laugh and anecdote shared. But you couldn't shake the feeling there was an underlying current of tension just beneath the surface - a raging storm of want and obsession Hinata could barely contain, no matter how friendly his words.
He hung on your every word, body angled towards you eagerly as you recounted pieces of your life since he'd been gone. You tried not to stare too openly at the way his toned forearms flexed as he gesticulated or how his shirt stretched deliciously across his muscular chest with each breath. This was torture in the sweetest way.
At one point, Hinata reached over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering a beat too long and sending sparks ricocheting through you. His gaze had darkened an unmistakable few shades, pupils blown wide. You realized with a start your faces were mere inches apart, close enough for you to taste the lingering tea on his lips if you just...
The afternoon drifted by in a warm haze as you and Hinata continued catching up, swapping stories and reminiscing about old times. With each anecdote and laugh shared, you felt the lingering awkwardness dissipate as the familiar comfort and ease of your childhood friendship reasserted itself.
"Oh my god, do you remember the time we tried to camp out in your backyard?" Hinata chuckled, his eyes crinkling in that achingly nostalgic way. "We didn't even make it past 10 pm before you were crying because you thought you heard a bear!"
You gasped in mock indignation, swatting his arm. "I was 8 years old! Of course I was terrified! You're the one who insisted we could survive in the wilderness by ourselves."
"Hey, I still maintain we were doing pretty well until your dad came out and dragged us inside," he countered with a smirk.
Shaking your head at the memory, you couldn't stop the fond smile from stretching across your face. Those careless days of wandering the neighborhood and dreaming up adventures seemed like an entire lifetime ago now. An unexpected pang of wistfulness tugged at your heart seeing how much had changed - how much Hinata himself had changed into this ruggedly handsome man oozing quiet confidence.
As if reading your melancholic turn of thought, Hinata's expression softened almost imperceptibly. Reaching out, his thumb gently grazed your cheek, lingering on the cusp of something more intimate. You fought the urge to turn into his touch, to chase that fleeting connection.
"I missed you, you know," he murmured, molten eyes roving your features as if mapping every curve, every laugh line. "After we moved away, not a day went by I didn't think about you."
The raw honesty, the undisguised yearning in his voice made your breath hitch in your throat. What did he mean by that? You wanted to ask, suddenly hyperaware of the searing heat building between your bodies where your legs were pressed together on the couch.
Before you could find your words, Hinata dropped his hand, the moment breaking. He flashed you a brilliant smile, but you could have sworn you detected a fleeting look of frustration, of wanting more. But the instant was gone in a blink.
"Anyway," he said, clearing his throat. "Tell me more about what you've been up to recently! Any relationships I need to intimidate the guy over?"
And just like that, you found yourself diverted onto a new conversational path, the flirtatious tension fizzling out into easy banter once more. But you couldn't quite shake the feeling that something deeper, something hungrier lurked behind Hinata's every glance, every casual brush of contact between you two.
Part of you was afraid to give in and explore where this was leading, this dizzying chemical pull between you and your newly reformed friend. Another part wondered if you were imagining things, projecting some deeper meaning onto innocent friendliness.
But the largest part of you, the part that recognized the same blazing intensity from Hinata that used to set gymnasiums alight when he took the court...that part was purely intrigued to see just how far this obsession could go if you fanned the flames rather than backing away.
As the conversation continued to flow naturally between you two, you started to relax more into the familiar camaraderie. Hinata's boisterous energy and lack of filter were still very much intact, to your amusement.
"So then this rookie on the team tries to mess with me during practice," Hinata was saying animatedly, "Acting all cocky because he's some hotshot striker right out of university. But he doesn't realize who he's messing with!"
His eyes flashed with a competitive fire that made something stir low in your belly. You could easily envision the intimidating aura he must command on the court these days.
"Well, what happened next?" you prompted, leaning forward with rapt attention.
Hinata flashed you a wicked grin. "Let's just say he learned very quickly not to underestimate the flight patterns of my freak quick strikes."
There was an edge of cockiness, of arrogance coloring his deep voice that you had definitely never heard from him before. This supreme self-assuredness, this awareness of his own prowess was utterly intoxicating coming from the usually humble, sometimes bumbling boy you remembered.
"You should have seen the way he was gaping at me after I spiked that ball right past his face," Hinata continued, leaning back to throw an arm over the back of the couch behind you. "The look on his face was priceless."
His movement brought you two even closer together, close enough for the heady scent of his aftershave to cloud your senses. You tried not to visibly react as the back of his hand came to rest against the nape of your neck, sending tingles down your spine.
"I'll have to take you to one of my games sometime," he murmured, eyes darkening in a way that had nothing to do with the story he'd been telling. "I think you'd enjoy watching me hit the court...get a taste for my stamina and power up close."
The words seemed loaded with innuendo, dropping into the silence like lead weights strangling the air from the room. You swallowed thickly, frozen under the banked intensity of his stare. Was this really still just playful banter to him or was there an undeniable heat simmering behind those amber eyes?
Hinata leaned in a few hateful inches closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke in a low rumble. "I have a feeling you'd appreciate the view, among other things."
The implication in his tone was clear, setting your already heated skin aflame. This was not the innocent boy you had once played pretend with in your backyard. The man sitting before you now was all bravado and unrestrained desire barely contained beneath the surface.
Just as your mind began to reel, Hinata pulled back abruptly with a laugh, the spellbinding tension shattering. "But enough about me, what about you? Any hot dates or romantic prospects I should know about as your best friend?"
You could only gape at him, utterly thrown by theiplodic shift as he regarded you expectantly. Clearly this new Hinata was a master at skirting the line between propriety and inappropriate suggestion, holding you in a constant state of off-kilter want.
Part of you was uncomfortable with wherever this was leading, fearful of crossing boundaries you could never uncross with your childhood friend. But the other part, the growing part, was undeniably intrigued to call his bluff and finally unravel the obsessive beast you saw lurking beneath his careful words and heated stares.
Licking your lips, you managed to find your voice at last. "No, no one serious at the moment. But I'll be sure to let you know if that changes."
The blatant challenge glittered in your eyes, tossing the ball back into Hinata's court now. His pupils flared, a muscle feathering in his jaw as he studied you. It was clear the gauntlet had been thrown between you two - the only question was which of you would be the first to stop playing games and give in.
The charged tension continued to build between you and Hinata over the next few hours, every casual touch and weighted look laden with the promise of something more simmering just beneath.
His words became more boldly suggestive, clearly testing the boundaries to see how you would react. "You know, sometimes at night I still get flashes of the games we used to play as kids in your backyard," he mused at one point, amber eyes burning into you. "Except in my dreams, we were a little...older and the games became much more physical in nature."
You nearly choked on your drink, warmth flooding your cheeks. The blatant innuendo hung heavy in the air, daring you to either deflect or match his energy. Holding his heated stare, you replied evenly, "Is that so? I don't recall those kinds of games, but I'm certainly intrigued to learn the rules now."
A muscle flexed in Hinata's toned forearm where it rested on the back of the couch, the only visible sign of your words affecting him. His gaze darkened further, a low growl sounding in his throat that had your heartbeat thundering. For a moment, it seemed like the dam of restraint was about to break and he would finally act on the smoldering obsession written across every part of him.
But then the moment passed, that infuriatingly placid mask of friendly interest slipping back into place as if nothing had happened. "Well, maybe I'll have to show you sometime and refresh your memory," he said with a wink, so achingly casual.
The back and forth continued like this, each salacious comment and heated look slowly unraveling your nerves until finally you realized with a start that evening had begun creeping in through the windows.
"Oh wow, I didn't realize how late it had gotten," you murmured, disappointment and relief pooling in your chest. Part of you was grateful for the reprieve from the exquisite torture, while the other part ached to keep pushing to see how far Hinata would eventually take this.
"I should probably get going," you continued, standing up from the couch and trying not to look too affected. "But we'll have to do this again really soon, Shoyo. I've missed you."
You realized the truth in your own words as you said them. Despite the simmering tension and undercurrent of something darker lurking within Hinata, it felt so refreshingly wonderful to have your oldest friend back in your life again after all this time.
Hinata's expression softened at your parting words, something painfully tender flickering across his features before the hungry gaze returned. "Count on it. In fact..."
He rose as well, following you towards the door with those powerful, assured strides. You felt dwarfed beneath his towering height, pinned by the smoldering look he swept over your body. Reaching out, his calloused fingers grazed your arm, tracing upwards to curl around the back of your neck with unrestrained possessiveness.
Your breath hitched in your throat, trapped by the unyielding heat in his stare. He pulled you flush against the solid wall of his chest with a gentleness that somehow felt more frightening than outright aggression. You could feel every shuddering inhale, every thump of his hammering heart against your own ribcage.
"How about I walk you home?" Hinata husked, his lips a hair's breadth from yours now. "Make sure you get there safe?"
You could only mutely nod in acquiescence, all power of speech robbed by the delirious tension rapidly crescendoing around you both. His grip tightened ever so slightly against your nape, a clear undercurrent of possession in the deceptively simple request.
The walk back to your apartment building passed in a heated daze, the only sound your shaky breaths and the white noise roaring in your ears. Every nerve ending felt electrified under the weight of Hinata's domineering presence beside you. He was so close, the scent of his cologne and body heat making your head swim with visceral awareness of him.
When at last you reached your doorstep, you started to turn and bid him goodnight, but your words died on your lips as Hinata suddenly crowded you back against the door. His large palm slammed against the wood by your head with a bang, face ducking down to crash his lips against yours in a heated, untamed kiss.
A shocked gasp parted your lips, allowing his insistent tongue to delve deeper, staking its claim as he devoured you. You clutched the hard planes of his chest, knees turning to liquid at the unbridled desire, the feral obsession driving his fevered movements. This was not the chaste affection of childhood friends - this was a man's unyielding passion finding its voice at last.
Then, as abruptly as the searing kiss began, Hinata tore himself away. You slumped back against the door, chest heaving as if you'd just run a marathon, lips still tingling from the lingering heat of him. When you finally managed to pry your eyes open, Hinata was watching you with hooded eyes, body tense like a lion poised to pounce again.
But instead, he simply retreated a step backwards, the briefest flicker of a satisfied smirk playing across his swollen lips. "Goodnight, (Y/N)," he murmured in that deep, rasping timbre that had become your undoing. "Sleep well."
And with that, he turned and started back towards his apartment, leaving you a gasping, disheveled mess still slumped against your door in disbelief.
The next morning, you awoke feeling groggy and disoriented, as if emerging from some fevered dream. Fleeting fragments of memory ricocheted through your mind - the blazing heat of Hinata's kiss, the undeniable hunger in his touch, the gravelly timbre of his parting words that had you squirming restlessly through the night.
Surely that couldn't have been real...could it? Your fingers drifted up to ghost across your still-tingling lips, the phantom taste of him making a shiver chase down your spine. No, it was too visceral, too branded into your very bones to be anything but reality.
Which made Hinata's complete nonchalance when you finally ventured next door all the more confounding.
"Morning, sleepyhead!" he greeted you cheerfully after pulling open the door, seemingly oblivious to your rattled state. Not a single hair was out of place, every inch of him the picture of friendly affability, as if he hadn't ravaged you against that same door just hours before.
"I, uh, made some coffee if you want a cup?" he continued when you failed to respond, holding up the steaming mug in front of you. "Cream and sugar's on the counter."
You blinked dumbly, struggling to find your footing as Hinata brushed past you towards the kitchen, jostling your shoulder with his warmth. The familiar citrus notes of his body wash and subtle musk wafted over you, conspiring to make your head spin anew with half-remembered sensations.
Clearly seeing your frozen, flustered state, Hinata's brow furrowed slightly in concern as he regarded you. "You okay? You're looking a little...flushed."
His eyes slowly trailed down your body in an unhurried once-over, like a physical caress raising goosebumps across your heated skin. You fought not to squirm beneath that smoldering amber gaze, dark memories of its intensity looming over you threatening to unravel you completely.
Somewhere beneath the indifferent veil, you caught the brief flash of a knowing smirk playing across Hinata's full lips before it disappeared just as quickly.
"Sorry, I'm just...still waking up I guess," you managed to stammer out at last, averting your eyes.
"Well, wake up quickly then!" Hinata clapped you lightly on the shoulder, the innocent touch somehow loaded with suggestion. "I was thinking we could go on a hike together later and explore some of the old trails? For old time's sake."
His brilliant, sly grin was daring you to read between the lines. What fresh depravities might await you two alone on those "old trails"? The question hung unspoken but heavy between you as your tongue slicked unconsciously across your lower lip.
Hinata's eyes followed the movement hungrily, pupils flaring for the barest hint of a moment before regaining their innocuous sheen. Every part of him screamed he was a master at this game of plausible deniability.
"Only if you're feeling up for it, that is," he added smoothly, stepping close enough for his clean, heady scent to cloud your senses anew. A heavy-lidded look was cast your way, not quite a challenge but definitely dangling an unspoken promise of something more if you were brave enough to agree.
Your throat clicked in a dry swallow as you held his piercing gaze, vividly recalling the taste of his tongue in your mouth, the scorching brand of his hands on your body. There would be no going back once you stepped over this line with him, of that you were certain.
"You know what?" you murmured, leaning in until your lips were a hairsbreadth from brushing against the heated skin of his neck. You felt Hinata's pulse kick up in response, a low rumble vibrating from deep in his chest. "I think a nice long hike is exactly what I need to...clear my head."
As you pulled back, you allowed your eyes to trail brazenly down the corded lines of his throat, across the broad expanse of his chest, daring him to stop playing coy and claim what was rightfully his.
Hinata's eyes were molten fire, burning straight through what little restraint still remained between you two. There would be no more childish pining from afar or hollow games of making you wonder - this day in the wilderness would be about finally indulging the ravenous obsession that had simmered too long unchecked.
This time, there would be no going back to how things used to be. One way or another, you were about to get a firsthand taste of just how far Hinata's hunger for you could go when given the chance.
The hike started out innocuously enough, just two old friends exploring familiar trails and reminiscing about days gone by. The warm spring air and lush greenery surrounding you was almost enough to make you forget the raging wildfire of tension simmering between you and Hinata.
Almost, but not quite.
No matter how casual and lighthearted the conversation flowed, you were hyper-aware of every loaded glance, every "accidental" brush of contact searing straight through you. The memory of Hinata's searing kiss was branded into your very cells, stoking an insatiable yearning you hadn't felt in years.
You found yourself unable to meet his eyes for too long without getting lost in their molten depths, breath hitching at the banked intensity that promised so much more if you let it unfurl fully. Hinata seemed to revel in reducing you to a flustered wreck with little more than a heated stare or casual touch skating along your arm.
The atmosphere grew thicker the deeper you ventured into the secluded trails, a heavy silence blanketing you both as words fell away in favor of something else entirely. You could feel the obsessive pull between you cresting towards its inevitable peak.
It happened so fast when it finally snapped - one moment you were walking slightly ahead of Hinata on the narrow path, the next you felt a solid weight slamming into your back as he crowded you up against the nearest tree trunk. The breath punched from your lungs in a harsh gasp, but any noise was swallowed by Hinata's scorching kiss.
His large hands cradled your face in a punishingly tight grip, angling you backwards as he devoured you with the same unrestrained hunger from last night. You clutched the solid plates of his back as he pressed closer, the hard ridge of his cock grinding shamelessly against you.
There would be no preamble, no questioning what was happening between you two this time. The dam had finally burst and Hinata was claiming you as his obsession laid bare at last. When he finally wrenched his lips away with a guttural groan, you were both panting harshly.
"About damn time," was all he rasped out in that ruined timbre before crashing his mouth back against yours.
No more words needed to be exchanged after that. You simply gave yourself over to the onslaught of sensations - his calloused hands roaming hungrily, his hips rutting against you in primal undulations, his harsh pants scorching your neck as he blazed a trail of opened-mouth kisses downward.
Restraint and uncertainty shattered, nothing existed in this moment except for slaking the ravenous cravings that had smoldered between you both for far too long. Years of repressed obsession, of dark desires aching to be indulged, all came pouring out in a frenzy of tangled limbs and desperate caresses.
There would be no going back after this. You had awoken the unrestrained beast in Hinata and he was never letting you go again. But as his skilled fingers deftly divested you of your top and his solid weight pinned you to the forest floor, you found you had no single regret about succumbing so completely to his smoldering hunger.
The frenzied make-out rapidly descended into uncharted territory, hands grasping and exploring with reckless abandon as you both surrendered fully to the raging obsession. Hinata's broad frame was splayed over you, caging you against the forest floor as he rutted shamelessly into the cradle of your thighs.
You arched off the ground with a keening whine, nails raking down the corded muscles of his back as wet heat pooled between your legs. This was really happening - years of repressed yearning were about to finally find their release. Hinata growled deep in his chest, the scorching brand of his tongue searing its path along the slender column of your neck.
Just as you reached up to tug insistently at the hem of his shirt, desperate to divest the offending barrier and feel his searing skin against yours, Hinata suddenly froze. His harsh pants fanned across your flushed cheek as he drew back slightly, eyes glittering with some emotion you couldn't quite decipher.
Before you could even process what was happening, he rolled off of you in one abrupt, fluid movement. The sudden lack of his solid weight crushed you with its absence, leaving you splayed out and utterly wrecked on the forest floor as he rose to tower over you.
You could only gape up at him, chest heaving rapidly from your entwined state moments before. Hinata simply stood there drinking in the sight of you so thoroughly disheveled, eyes blazing with something that looked a lot like triumph etched across his sharp features.
After allowing the weighted silence to stretch tortuously, he bent down to retrieve your discarded top, holding it out to you without a single word. It was like emerging from a fever dream, the abrupt shift disorienting you even further.
You felt heat prickling across your skin as you shakily accepted the offered garment, struggling to cover your breasts with shaking hands. Hinata didn't so much as bat an eyelash, merely turning on his heel and continuing along the trail as if nothing had happened.
"You coming?" he tossed over his nonchalant shoulder after a few paces, as casual as could be.
Still sprawled there in stunned disbelief, you could only stare after him, mouth agape at the whiplash shift. Part of you was mortified at being left utterly debauched on the forest floor. But the larger part, the part that recognized a deliciously depraved game when you saw one, felt a reckless thrill starting to build.
So that was how Hinata wanted to play things - all heated frenzy one moment only to leave you aching and unfulfilled the next with that stoic nonchalance. Well, two could undoubtedly play at that game if that was the case.
Scrambling the rest of the way into a standing position, you hastened to follow after his retreating form. If Hinata thought he could get away with teasing you to the brink like that without some delightfully torturous form of retaliation, he had another thing coming.
By the time you managed to catch up, his expression was a mask of polite obliviousness, the smoldering heat from earlier carefully banked once more. Only the slightest quirk at the corner of his lips hinted that he was well aware of the effect he'd had on you.
"Lovely day for a hike, isn't it?" was all he said, smiling beatifically as you fell into step beside him.
You shot him a sidelong look, letting your eyes deliberately trail down the distinct bulge still tenting the front of his shorts. That innocent facade wouldn't last long once you decided to enact your vengeance, of that you were certain.
"The perfect day," you agreed lightly, gaze skating back up to meet his heavy-lidded stare.
Let the games begin.
The thick tension lingered heavily between you and Hinata in the days following your hike, neither of you acknowledging or discussing what had transpired on the secluded trail. You went about your routines and conversations as normal, but the undercurrent of unresolved desire simmered with every lingering glance and casual touch that felt electric.
Finally, you decided to invite Hinata over for a home-cooked dinner at your place a few nights later, hoping to find some release from the maddening tension. He arrived with that same nonchalant ease, not a hair out of place, as if he hadn't ravaged you against a tree trunk just days prior.
Dinner itself flowed smoothly, the two of you slipping back into familiar banter and catching up. But you didn't miss the way Hinata's piercing stare trailed over your body when he thought you weren't looking, or how his large hands seemed to linger whenever he passed you something.
"You know, I haven't stopped thinking about what happened on that trail," Hinata said abruptly during a lull in conversation. His tone was conversational, but the smoldering look he fixed you with was anything but casual.
You felt your throat go dry under his heated appraisal. "Oh? And what's there to think about?" you managed to reply, keeping your expression carefully neutral despite your rabbiting pulse.
Hinata's lips curved into the barest hint of a smirk, clearly seeing through your nonchalance. He leaned in closer, braced forearms on the table bringing his face mere inches from yours as he lowered his voice to an intimate rumble.
"Don't play coy, you know exactly what I mean. I meant it when I said I've been waiting years for that moment, to finally get my hands on you like I've craved."
His words struck you like a physical caress, raising goosebumps along your heated skin as you fought not to squirm. The raw honesty, the undisguised obsession burning in Hinata's molten gaze made your head spin.
"I've fantasized about you more times than I can count," he continued in that same low timbre laden with promise. "Imagining what you'd look like splayed out underneath me, writhing and whimpering for more while I took you apart piece by piece."
You swallowed hard, suddenly regretting trying to maintain pretenses of normalcy between you two. This clearly was anything but a normal situation – the powerful, athletic man before you was practically vibrating with years' worth of repressed hunger and fixation.
"So no, I haven't stopped thinking about finally claiming what's mine," Hinata concluded, holding your stare captive with smoldering intensity. "And I won't stop until I've had my fill, until you recognize you've belonged to me all along whether you realized it yet or not."
There was no questioning his blunt words, no interpreting the blatant obsession and dark undercurrents driving him now. Hinata had been pushed to the brink, and he was done with subtlety. You were his all-consuming fixation, the object of his ultimate hunger.
And from the way his hooded eyes trailed over your lips, he was making it abundantly clear he had no intentions of stopping until that appetite was finally sated, no matter how long it took.
The heavy silence stretched between you and Hinata, the weight of his ardent confession hanging thick in the air. His burning stare pinned you in place, demanding a reaction even as your brain struggled to process his blunt words and undeniable obsession.
Before you could formulate a response, Hinata abruptly shoved away from the table and closed the distance between you in two long strides. Powerful arms encircled your waist, hauling you flush against the searing wall of his chest as he captured your lips in a scorching, desperate kiss.
You made a muffled noise of surprise against his mouth, but it quickly melted into undisguised want as the dizzying heat of him overwhelmed your senses. This time there was no restraint, no coy suggestion - just Hinata taking with the same unrestrained obsession he had promised.
His large hands roamed hungrily over your curves, bunching the fabric of your top as he angled your head to deepen the frenzied kiss. You clutched at the straining muscles of his back, whimpering at the solid planes you could feel flexing beneath your palms with each roll of his hips grinding shamelessly against you.
Hinata's harsh growl of approval vibrated against your lips before he seized the opportunity to lick inside, tasting and claiming you with fervent sweeps of his tongue. You melted helplessly back against the solid oak of the table digging into your lower back, utterly at his mercy.
There would be no more feigned nonchalance, no more skirting the issue driving this raging obsession between you two. Not when you could feel the undeniable ridge of Hinata's arousal rutting against your pelvis, or the wet heat of him leaving a searing trail down the vulnerable column of your neck.
"Hinata...we shouldn't—ah!" Whatever feeble protest you tried to voice was swallowed by his searing mouth devouring you once more.
"Don't try to deny this, don't try to pretend this hasn't been leading here all along," he all but growled when he finally tore his lips away, pinning you captive with eyes blazing like molten amber. "I'm done with games and holding back. You're mine, whether you can admit it to yourself yet or not."
His calloused fingers deftly worked at the buttons of your top, divesting you of the garment in one smooth tug as he bared your tingling flesh to his smoldering gaze. You shuddered, suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed and vulnerable you were beneath his ravenous stare.
But any shred of self-consciousness was forgotten the next instant as Hinata dipped his head, fevered mouth searing a path downwards across your flushed chest. Your breath stuttered in your lungs as he reached the peak of your breast, suckling hard enough to leave a mark before soothing the sting with his tongue.
You couldn't contain the moan that spilled from your lips, the visceral pleasure and aching heat too intense to remain silent. Hinata rumbled his approval, calloused hands gripping your hips in a punishing hold as he continued his relentless onslaught.
The searing trail he blazed over your trembling body was unrelenting, leaving a map of open-mouthed kisses and love bites in his wake. His teeth nipped at the soft flesh of your stomach, followed by the soothing swipe of his tongue and then the graze of his nose as he inhaled your scent.
Every sense was drowning in him - the searing heat of his palms, the heady citrus notes of his cologne, the low growls emanating from deep in his chest as he slowly drove you mad with sensation.
You could feel the throbbing ache growing between your thighs, the telltale dampness soaking your panties. There was no disguising your arousal from him now, no pretending the raw desire coursing through your veins was anything less than the truth.
Hinata was a man possessed, his fixation driving him onward as he dropped to his knees, yanking down your leggings and underwear in one smooth movement. You felt a rush of cool air hit your exposed center, the sudden vulnerability sending a shockwave of goosebumps rippling across your heated skin.
The breath punched from your lungs as Hinata surged forward, burying his face between your legs without warning. You cried out, head dropping back with a thunk against the unforgiving wood of the table as pleasure jolted through you.
He wasted no time, licking a broad stripe up your center before suckling on your clit, making your knees buckle beneath you. All you could do was clutch the short strands of his hair for purchase, gasping and keening with every sweep of his talented tongue.
Hinata seemed just as lost in the frenzy as you, grunts of pleasure reverberating through your very core as he devoured you whole. You could feel his strong arms gripping your hips, pinning you in place while his thumbs rubbed soothing circles over your hipbones.
The sight of him kneeling before you, head buried between your thighs and feasting on your wet cunt with single-minded determination was too much. The white-hot pleasure rapidly crested, threatening to send you hurtling over the edge at any moment.
Your moans grew louder, fingers tightening in Hinata's hair as your climax neared. You felt his lips curve into a smirk against your slick flesh, clearly recognizing how close you were. Then, just as your entire body was coiled tight as a bowstring, poised to snap, Hinata withdrew.
"Wha—why did you stop?" you panted out in a whine, hips canting forward in desperation.
You were so achingly close, could feel the phantom pressure of his tongue where it had just been. You were right on the cusp, teetering on the edge. One more swipe of his skilled tongue and you would have tumbled over.
"Because," Hinata purred, his warm breath ghosting over your throbbing cunt and making you shudder, "there’s no way in hell I'm letting you come unless it's on my cock."
With that, he rose from his knees, dragging his tongue along the column of your throat. You whimpered, the loss of contact making you ache even worse than before. Then Hinata's lips were back against yours, hot and insistent, and you tasted yourself on his tongue.
You groaned, fingers fumbling to tear at the buttons of his shirt and push the offending garment off his shoulders. Hinata made a rumbling noise of approval deep in his chest, calloused fingers tangling in your hair and tilting your head back to deepen the kiss.
The moment his shirt fell away, exposing the hard planes of his sculpted torso, you were clawing at the waistband of his jeans. You wanted him, needed him, craved the feeling of his throbbing cock splitting you open.
Your frenzied movements had him chuckling, the deep sound sending another shiver racing down your spine. But Hinata was just as far gone, his large hands grasping yours and helping to yank down his pants and boxers in one smooth motion.
The sight of his erect cock, swollen and throbbing with precum glistening at the tip, had your mouth going dry. Your eyes trailed down the hard lines of his stomach, taking in the rest of his powerful body. The faint trail of hair leading downwards, the sculpted v-lines that were a roadmap to the most delicious places on earth, and his thick cock standing proud and ready for you.
Hinata growled deep in his throat, seizing your hips in a punishing grip and hoisting you onto the edge of the table. Your thighs parted automatically, a whimper falling from your lips at the rough manhandling.
Then the thick head of his cock was nudging against your slick folds, not quite pushing in but still driving you wild with anticipation. His thumb guided the fat tip along your slit, rubbing it in small circles as he let it dip slightly inside, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.
He was watching your face with such rapt intensity, his pupils blown wide and nostrils flaring with every shaky inhale. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, the corded muscles of his stomach twitching and flexing. He was just as lost in the sensation as you were, his self-control slipping the more his cock slid through your folds.
You could feel your arousal coating his thick length, slicking him up with each pass. Hinata's breaths were coming quicker now, his eyelids fluttering and his head dropping forward as he ground his cock along your aching center.
He was right on the cusp, his hips moving erratically. He was trying to hold back, to maintain his composure and tease you even longer. But you could see the cracks starting to show in his mask of restraint, could see how much he was struggling to hold himself back.
Just when the tension was about to snap, Hinata reached down, grasping his cock at the base and giving it a few rough pumps. His eyes rolled back in his head, a deep groan of pleasure rumbling through his chest as he came.
Thick ropes of cum painted your stomach and breasts, dripping down his fist as his cock pulsed and twitched in his grip.
It was so fucking hot, so depraved, to have Hinata's release marking your body, to know you had driven him to this level of ecstasy.
He gave a shuddering gasp, eyelids fluttering open as the last dregs of his orgasm washed over him. The look of utter satisfaction on his face as he took in the mess he'd made of you, the possessive gleam in his eye as he raked his gaze over your body, was enough to have you aching and needy all over again.
You watched on curiously as he reached over to grab his phone, aiming the camera at you. Your mouth went dry at the realization of what he was doing, a jolt of pleasure rushing through you at the thought.
"Don't move," Hinata murmured, voice heavy with satisfaction and desire. "I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life. You don’t know how many times I've fantasized about this, how often I've jerked myself raw thinking of you covered in my cum."
The click of the camera captured the moment forever, the proof of your mutual debauchery immortalized on the screen. His lips curved into a sinful smirk, eyes flicking up to meet yours.
"My turn," he growled.
In the next instant, he had you pinned back against the table, his weight settling on top of you as his tongue dragged through the mess on your stomach. You whimpered, fingers tangling in his hair and hips canting upwards to seek out some kind of relief.
Hinata hummed his approval, lapping up every last drop of his release before shifting further upward, licking and nipping his way across your heaving chest.
His cock was already hard again, pulsing and grinding against your soaked folds. The heat of him was searing, setting your body ablaze with pleasure. He was teasing you, torturing you, his lips sucking a dark bruise along the sensitive skin of your neck.
"You know," he murmured, hips rolling in an unhurried pace, his words a rumble against your ear, "I could get used to this view."
A strangled moan escaped your lips as his cockhead notched against your entrance, the heady promise of release just within reach. Hinata was still teasing you, dragging his shaft along your soaked slit as his lips grazed the shell of your ear.
"But if I'm going to keep fucking you on this table, I need to make sure you won't spill any leftovers."
You could feel his lips curve into a smirk, the barest hint of a chuckle vibrating through his chest. But you were too far gone, too lost in the sensation of his thick cock sliding through your folds and grazing your throbbing clit.
Your entire body was tensed like a bowstring, wound up so tightly that the slightest movement would snap it. And when Hinata finally, finally, pushed his thick cock inside you, the string snapped.
You cried out, arching off the table as stars exploded behind your eyelids. Pleasure unlike anything you'd ever experienced washed over you in waves, your cunt spasming around the solid girth stretching you open. You felt the foreign sensation of something liquid gushing from your pussy, coating Hinata's cock and your inner thighs.
"Fuck," Hinata hissed, his head dropping to your shoulder. "Did you just squirt? You didn’t tell me you were a squirter, fuck, that's so fucking hot."
He sounded almost drunk, his words slurred as he started thrusting into you. Each pump of his hips had another wave of pleasure crashing over you, your body convulsing and clenching around his cock.
Hinata fucked you through the aftershocks, his hips slamming into you and driving his cock impossibly deep. Your hands scrabbled at his shoulders, fingernails digging into the straining muscles as you held on for dear life.
He was relentless, pounding into you and chasing his own release. The wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt, the harsh slap of his balls against your ass, the groans and grunts escaping his throat – all of it only heightened the sensations overwhelming your body.
Your eyes rolled back in your head, a string of curses falling from your lips as the pressure built once again. This time you knew you wouldn't be able to hold back, wouldn't be able to keep from exploding into a million pieces.
The tension was coiling tighter, your body trembling as Hinata fucked you harder. It was too much, the pleasure was too intense, it was almost painful. You were so close, you were almost there, you just needed a little more, a little—
"Oh god," you cried, your body arching off the table as your cunt clenched around his cock, gushing another flood of liquid.
Hinata let out a growl, his thrusts becoming more erratic. You could feel his cock pulsing and twitching, his breathing ragged and uneven. He was right there with you, his own climax building.
"That's it," he rasped, his grip on your hips bruising as he slammed into you. "Fuck, I can feel your cunt milking my cock, fuck, fuck, fuck—"
With a final cry, his hips stuttered and he came, his cock spurting ropes of cum deep inside you. The sensation of his hot release filling you up, the feeling of his cock pulsing and twitching as he emptied himself, was enough to send you over the edge again.
Your orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing and gushing around his cock. The pleasure was so intense, it was almost painful. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, running down your thighs and soaking the table beneath you.
"God, I love watching you squirt," Hinata growled, his eyes half-lidded as he watched his release leak from your cunt. "I could do this all day, watch you cream all over my cock and soak this table. You're so fucking hot."
You could only moan, your body completely spent and limp from the intensity of your orgasms. Hinata pulled out, his softening cock slipping from your pussy with a wet squelch. More cum leaked from your cunt, dribbling down your thighs.
He scooped some up with his fingers, pushing it back inside you with a satisfied smirk. You shuddered, the feeling of his cum inside you making your cunt clench around his digits.
"Mmm, we're gonna need to do a lot more work to make sure none of this leaks," he purred, his other hand trailing over your stomach and smearing the remnants of his release into your skin. "We can't let any of this go to waste, now can we?"
You whimpered, his words and touch sending sparks of pleasure through you. He chuckled, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your cum-filled pussy.
"That's right," he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips in a scorching kiss. "Let's see just how many times I can make you squirt before the night's over."
224 notes · View notes
helianthus-tarot · 15 days
Text
Tumblr media
RELATIONSHIP: What do men think about you? How do they see you? (general)
This reading is about men, people who identify as men and/or people who have a strong masculine energy, and their perception of you. It's meant to be about men as a group, but you can try asking about your person, though I can't promise you'll get an accurate answer. If you want to ask about a woman, or someone with a strong feminine energy, you can try, but again, I can't promise you'll get an accurate answer. Keep in mind, when we talk about perception, it's bound to be biased in some way, so if you get a negative message, don't let it affect your self-esteem.
I posted the extended version on my Patreon which includes what do men who are ❤️ romantically attracted ❤️ to you think about you 👀📝 There are other 60+ fun and juicy readings on Patreon too so definitely check it out!
Disclaimer: Here | Instagram: Here
Instructions: Focus on the topic and ask yourself the question. Choose a number/picture that you feel the most drawn to or that you can’t stop looking at. Trust your intuition. May the message resonate. Let me know which pile you choose! Feedback is appreciated!
Like my readings? Tip here!
Tumblr media
PILE 1
General: 10 of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles, 6 of Swords Rx (The Hermit). The Sun, The High Priestess.
They sense a stable and grounded vibe from you; they think that you are the type of person who moves slowly or who takes time to evaluate things before you make your decisions, the type of person who considers future impacts and future gains when you make your decisions, the type of person who cares about being sensible, like, having good personal finance skills, knowing how to take care of your health, etc. Some of them think you come from a wealthy family, upper middle class and above, you are privileged, or you receive material support from your family. For some of you, this could be the wealth or the material comfort that you’ve built on your own, but they assume it’s provided by your family.
Despite the privilege/wealth they think you have, whether it’s coming from your own effort or your family, they think you are also generous with it. You share your abundance with others, you guide and help others when you can, especially by providing practical help or material help. So them seeing you as well-off isn’t really coming from jealousy or envy, it isn’t something they do to look down on you or to treat you like you grew up spoiled; it’s just something they think you have, and they think you use it for good.
Some of them see you as someone who could be a good spouse, whether they are romantically interested in you or not. They could simply think that you’ll make a nice partner for their own son/daughter/etc, for example. They think you’re quite reserved and conservative. What I mean by conservative here is not necessarily you believing in traditional beliefs, it’s just that, you give off the vibe of someone who doesn’t really party a lot, you are kind but you aren’t exactly a social butterfly, perhaps you prefer to stay at home and cook or read or do activities that are pretty lowkey or that make you feel calm and stable. That vibe. You come across as committed and responsible to them, hence a good spouse material.
But they also think that you secretly have some wounds or sources of stress that you haven’t moved on from, and they wonder if these wounds are the things that make you feel a little distant sometimes, like, you don’t properly open up. Some of you lowkey give off a sombre vibe, despite outwardly showing that you are happy or you are enjoying your time and interactions with people, so they pick up on it.
You ‘make’ them feel at ease with themselves, they feel like they can be who they truly are around you and perhaps they also feel like you bring out their good sides, you ‘make’ them feel inspired or encouraged to be truthfully and authentically themselves. For some of them, your responsible vibe brings out their inner child, so they usually get the desire to express themselves more around you, without shame, without insecurities. Some of them may be more playful too as a result, it depends on their age, but they could ‘poke’ you playfully so you come out of your restraint, especially if you have a serious demeanour. They also feel open towards you, they feel inclined to receive you with open arms. You evoke curiosity too, hence why some of them may poke you playfully just so they can see more of you. Some of them are drawn to you in a way that they can’t explain, though this is probably because you bring out their inner child.
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝
Tumblr media
PILE 2
General: The Empress Rx (Judgement Rx), The Moon Rx (3 of Wands Rx), Temperance. Ace of Swords, 10 of Cups.
They think you are mild-mannered and placid, kinda passive. Perhaps you don’t react much, or perhaps they often see you taking the less confrontational way out. There’s this appropriate, agreeable and peaceful vibe coming from you, like you try to be mature, and patient, and try not to ruffle feathers. They think you often choose to be the bigger person, but some of them disagree with this decision. They think there are situations where you need to be more forceful and push for what you want, but you choose not to. Some of them could think that your peacefulness is actually coming from a lack of maturity (as if you aren’t fully ‘developed/mature’ yet to them, whatever this means) and a lack of self-assurance. Basically they think you haven’t properly come into yourself or stepped into your power. 
This is just an example, let’s say you chose not to confront a problematic situation because you were secretly scared or you were insecure about something related to it, but you acted as if you just didn’t want to fight or force things to go your way, you wanted to be mature so you chose to let go of that situation instead. That’s the vibe that they get from you, or that’s the assumption they make about you. You sound wise when you talk and they might think that you are interested in the spiritual or philosophical side of things, but yeah. Remember this is their perception, in reality it could be that you actually speak and act from experience and wisdom.
They think you are secretive about your feelings, not in a good way, they think you suppress a lot of things, especially negative emotions. They think you often choose to show a smooth and kind demeanour to the world instead of the murky, ugly feelings that you truly have. And some of them see this as harmful, because they think you aren’t really dealing with those, or you don’t really address those issues. Honestly if they are right about you, I wonder if you have Enneagram 9, because this sounds like it.
Some of you may not fit the beauty standard, they think you look like you could become more beautiful but you are still in the process of becoming, you’re still in that awkward stage or the stage where you haven’t quite realised your own worth/value/beauty yet. They may not see you as someone to pursue romantically, or to introduce to someone else, because of the lack of self-assurance that they perceive, they think you aren’t properly yourself, like you suppress parts of yourself and you could have insecurities with regard to that, and you don’t seem like you are open to working on those either.
Whether they are romantically interested in you or not, your presence makes them think about your romantic potential, about how you act in a group and around other people. Especially if you are a woman, some men think about the romantic potential of women around them, especially when they are deciding whether they want to stay friends or pursue something more. And they can be critical of your romantic potential, of how you act around people and in a group; it’s like their critical nature comes out more when you are around, their mind starts to turn and they start to sit and think and observe, and notice things that could be problems if you were to become their partner or their friend’s partner, etc. It’s very clinical though, I’m not saying it’s good, but they aren’t actively trying to be mean when they think these things.
Despite that, they think a connection/friendship with you can be very pleasant, not much drama because you aren’t the type for it, and so they are open to including you in their group, they are open to being nice to you and getting along with you. Some of them could see you as someone to protect, despite not having romantic feelings for you.
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝
Tumblr media
PILE 3
General: 5 of Wands Rx (Ace of Swords), The Emperor Rx (Ace of Wands), 6 of Pentacles. 4 of Swords, Page of Swords.
They think you are assertive and confident, but there’s a negative connotation to this. Not super negative to the point that they hate you, no, but it bothers them a little. They think you are outspoken and combative, you fight for what you believe in, you say what you think, you stand strong in yourself, but they think there’s something wrong with this, or they think you need to do it in a certain way, or in a better way, you need to be less this or less that. It’s that kind of feeling. You behave in a way that ruffles their feathers lol. 
In reality, it could be that you are actually pretty chill, you know how to balance yourself, when to push and when to wait and receive, you may not be that aggressive or difficult, just healthily assertive and forward (some of you actually come with rough edges, but I don’t think these are bad). Regardless, many of them just don’t receive your masculine traits well, as if those traits challenge their masculinity or beliefs/comfort in some way. Some of them could think that you are a little stuck-up or full of yourself, perhaps they judge this based on your demeanour (or your face, maybe you have a resting bitch face), so when you are just out and about minding your business, getting what you want, to them it looks like you are acting as if you own the place lol.
Some of them could pick up on your more playful side, but perhaps you don’t show it often or openly. It feels like for some of you, they think your playful side is something they need to bring out, and in order to do that, they need to deal with your sharp edges. Despite the edges that they think should be smoothen out, they think you are generous and helpful. You share what you have with people who need it, especially things like skills, expertise, practical knowledge, money and material possessions. When you are in this energy, they think you come across as reliable, secure and responsible. It’s the quality that brings out your calmness and conscientiousness. Some of them think you are good with children, or good with people who need your help since you know how best to support those people. It’s a good quality that they think you have, yet there’s that but.
But they are often triggered by you. Again, not in a super negative way, they don’t actually hate you, not really. It’s just that you make them want to say something to you, to poke you, to challenge you, to get you to talk and respond to them, to argue with you a bit. It’s like you disturb their peace for some odd reason, and they have a lot of opinions about it. They could be slightly mean with their words just to see how you react or just to scratch the itch of their annoyance. They may be randomly or unexplainably confrontational, making sharp comments out of nowhere, or telling you what they think about you unprovoked and in a way that isn’t really kind, as if they have no social skills to handle the situation with tact. You ‘disturb’ their peace, now they want to do the same to you. 
Some of them could take a more playful approach; they could intentionally be annoying towards you, tease you, make jokes and start random conversations with you, just to get you to respond to them. You evoke curiosity and desire to know, the way they go after this varies, like I’ve described, it depends on how kind and mature they are. Some of them may not be able to leave you alone without some kind of annoying behaviour or comment. They act like they know who you are, but it’s like, there’s a subconscious part of them that is lowkey open to change, as if they’re waiting to be proven wrong or they are waiting for reasons to change their mind about you. Perhaps they secretly feel like they don’t completely understand you, hence the desire to poke around.
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝
Tumblr media
PILE 4
General: The Sun, 4 of Pentacles Rx (King of Cups, 8 of Pentacles), The Empress. The Hanged Man, The World Rx.
You seem very genuine and positive to them. Your vibe is light and joyful, like a beautiful butterfly, it’s like you shine wherever you go. They think you like to laugh or smile, or you bring a lot of laughter and joy to people. They think you make people feel comfortable, you make your surroundings more beautiful and positive. They think you are full of inspiration and you seek to live your life the way you want, instead of following what’s accepted or what’s well-regarded by the external world. There’s this authenticity about you that is very freeing or liberating, like someone who passionately pursues what brings them joy and lives their best life. There’s a childlike quality to you, maybe you look youthful, or you give off a youthful, sunny vibe. Despite you having the wisdom to know that the world isn’t always good and nice, they think you are the type of person who chooses to see the good in others and the world anyway. Despite your youthful vibe, they don’t see you as naive.
They think you attract attention; some of them think it’s because of your vibe, it’s positive to be around you. Some of them think it’s because of your looks/beauty. Some of them think it’s both. They think you are stereotypically beautiful (i.e. you meet the beauty standard), or you take good care of yourself, like smelling and looking good, which makes you look beautiful. They think you have a good self-esteem, you value yourself, you know your own worth, so you live your life like that, but without arrogance. They think you are loving, generous and kind; to people, to animals and plants. It’s the vibe that they pick up on.
If you are a woman, they could think that you like stereotypically feminine things, like jewellery or the colour pink, cooking or baking, or being a homemaker or a mother. They think you deserve to live a good life, you deserve to have your needs met and some more. They think you aren’t closed off, you are open, you show your vulnerability with grace and integrity, you aren’t ashamed of what makes you human. When you have something you are working on, like a flaw or a weakness, you don’t mind showing it to them. So they can only acknowledge the emotional maturity that comes with that ability, i.e. they think you can do that because you are emotionally secure.
You ‘make’ them feel calm, to be honest, it’s like being around you put them into this introspective mode. They start thinking and pondering life, and feeling open to having their perspectives changed, to shift their understanding, and to look deeper into things. You make them more philosophical, and possibly also spiritual. Maybe through their observation of you, or words that you say; they learn more about the world and themselves, about their previous beliefs and misconceptions and how these can change, about a better way to be, a better approach to take, nuances they haven’t considered. They are also more patient around you, gentler and slower to react. They feel more open and willing to change their ways and adapt to you. Some of them are also more open to giving you what you need, even if it’s not something they normally do.
EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! What do men who are romantically interested in you think about you? How do they see you? Is it the same or is it different? Do they notice the real you? 🫢 Find out here! 👀📝
Tumblr media
765 notes · View notes
sofiahchan · 1 month
Note
How would Deepspace boys act when their wife (MC) is in labour? ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋
Rafayel was letting you hold his hand tight as he was sweating, he simply doesn't know what to do. He is nervous, offering you anything you want, even if it's a small piece of napkin or water. He would always give you a lot of praise while you gave birth. How come your journey together ends here, yet you have a new start? He feels so happy and so nervous right now in this moment that he will be a dad.
Rafayel knows only the basics of what childbirth is, he knows there's blood, but he never expected there to be too much blood or for it to take so long. He hates seeing you in agony or pain, and he hates it even more that he can't do anything to help what you are feeling except be there and let you squeeze his hand tight as much as you want.
Looking at you, he could notice how you’re panicking inside. He tried his best to comfort you, making sure you were comfortable and knowing how much he’s proud of you. He’s grateful to have you as his wife and now the mother of his child. When the sound of a baby crying can be heard, Rafayel can feel his eyes getting teary as he stares at his newborn baby. He can't stop praising how strong you are, he is fully overjoyed. He lets you hold the baby in your arms. Performing the skin-to-skin contact as he looks down on such a memorable sight. I was thinking how adorable it is that now he has a baby that is a mixture of you and him together in your arms. evidence of how you both love each other and are willing to raise a child together. Finally, he gives you a comforting kiss on your forehead while keeping an eye out for you and his new little sunshine.
— 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 
Zayne knows what you need most during pregnancy. Heating pads, pillows, even your favorite food? You named it. He got everything prepared for you, ensuring that your pregnancy would go smoothly as he tried his best to help you out. Even if he’s busy, he always answers your texts and calls quickly, making permission letters to the higher-ups so he can take care of you without neglecting his work too. In your final moments, he would still ensure that you have all the stuff that’s needed. He offers you a glass of water with a straw and even a handkerchief to wipe your sweat. Giving you a gentle squeeze as he holds onto your hand.
In his free time, he tries to learn more about your pregnancy, including which month you will be able to identify its gender, in which month you will need more supplies, and about the last trimester of your pregnancy. He convinced himself that everything would go well, so he had to be ready to deal with whatever challenges might appear. This way, he would always reassure you that everything would go well for the baby and yourself.
Once he sees the baby inside the hospital bassinet, a warm smile appears on his face. He was pleased to see the blessings that are now given to both of you. A warm hand suddenly lingers on your head, and you can feel how he is caressing your hair. He gave you a soft kiss on your forehead as he looked down at you. Looking down at you and the baby inside the hospital bassinet next to her hospital bed, “How lucky I am to be blessed with such a strong wife,” he whispers as he holds onto one of your hands.
— 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑
Xavier’s gentle nature shines through as he conceals his inner nervousness with a tender smile reflecting in his eyes. Not wanting his emotions to overshadow the moment, he soothingly murmurs words of encouragement not only to you but to the little life growing within your womb. With a caring touch, he delicately sweeps strands of your hair behind your ears, a gesture filled with affection and tenderness. Embracing you in a warm hug, he holds you close, his embrace a source of comfort and security as he endeavors to create an atmosphere of relaxation and ease for you.
He is struggling to avert his gaze from the unfolding scene, fully aware that the sight of blood could easily cause him to lose consciousness. Imagining a different scenario where you were not experiencing labor pains, this whole situation might have a hint of humor to it.
Seeing the tiny baby on his arms, Xavier held his tears as his fingers closed up to the baby's face, watching him pick it up. "He's so cute and lovely; you did a great job." You see Xavier smiling while hearing his praises for you and hoping the baby looks more like you. After going through all that, Xavier tries his best to cook for both you and the baby for the first time. He managed to make something edible and started to spoil you with his home-made food.
895 notes · View notes
astro-royale · 4 months
Text
AstrologyObservations:17
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Disclaimer: my opinion
I’ve met several men with their Venus in Leo, they are usually introverted men who prefer loud outgoing extravagant women, perhaps even prefer blonde or lighter hair leaning towards gold.
Venus in cancer men tend to really like feminine, nurturing women, also shorter women, that remind them of their mum in some way.
I’ve met several, Moon in Aquarius men and they have such a detached nature to them omg.
men with strong Aquarius placements could live alone in a forest with animals for the rest of their life and they would be satisfied and fulfilled.
Virgo men sound very monotone especially if they have a lot of Earth in their chart
Also earth sign as a mercury placement makes people less open and susceptible to jokes and humour, they take things very seriously 😅
“Am I joking or not? I guess you will never know” - Sagittarius
If you want a man to make you laugh he needs to have a Gemini or Libra placement.. or a few of them.
Earth sign men take people seriously but at the same time they’re the ones I see using women to level up or using women as stepping stones, then when they’re older they use the experience to bag a younger woman.
Earth sign men like to identify as “sigma”😭
Scorpio and Gemini in a chart really gives a man a good sense of self but at the same time they can be funny and not take things too seriously. They don’t mind being a clown because they know there’s more to them and their personality.
Scorpio men also do unhinged stuff to impress women lol.
Cancer sun men are very sensitive to jokes.
Venus in Leo men tend to be really supportive and like to uplift you.
Venus in Scorpio men are the type to cheat and you will never find out, or you find out decades later. Also they love darker hair on a woman or edgier haircuts. Also a darker aesthetic in general. Also dark circles.
Sagittarius men want you to impress them. If they are naturally impressed by you, you will know because they will comment on it. Otherwise they can be condescending or silently disapproving if they don’t find you appealing.
Pisces men usually make women laugh very easily, or their humour is easy to understand by women, either way there’s something about them which makes women feel comfortable and at ease, but they can easily ruin that also.seriously if you don’t feel safe around a Pisces man RUN because their expertise is making people feel comfy.
Mars in Sagittarius men are the ones who get on dating apps and enjoy hook up culture, they see sex as a sport
570 notes · View notes
seresinhangmanjake · 5 months
Text
The One I Want: Part 6
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.
Notes/Warnings: mentions of physical abuse. probably cursing, but idk. insecurity and vulnerability. I'm sure there are typos.
Words: 2825
The One I Want Masterlist
Jake’s eyebrows pinch in confusion at the shifting expression on your face, then he follows your line of sight over his shoulder. Though he’s still yards away from you, you hear the soft ‘damn it’ that leaves his mouth. He’s out of his seat in the next half-second, Rooster quickly joining him. 
“How is she here?” Jake asks as you ease behind him. 
“I have no idea,” Bradley says.
Sifting his hand through his hair, Jake curses again as if the woman making her way toward the group is a ticking bomb they’re running out of time to dismantle. “Can you and Millie take her back to the apartment?”
“Your girl?”
“Yes. I don’t know what Brit will say, but I don’t want it directed at her. When Brit realizes she’s my roommate—”
Rooster nods. “Enough said.”
“Thank you.” Jake whips around and his head jerks back in surprise—his mouth parts. A new shade appears to travel up his neck to his cheeks, but the pinkish hue could easily be mistaken for the fiery glow of the bonfire reflecting off his skin. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Just a minute,” you say. “Who is she?”
Nat and Bob pull up on either side of you and you notice how all sets of eyes are glued to the woman who is still too far away to identify properly. Though, despite her distance and that you’d asked Jake for confirmation, she’s no mystery to you. She’s undoubtedly the woman from the gift shop. What you don’t understand is the intensity of everyone's reactions. 
Nat crosses her arms and with a frown, says, “Jake, how does she know you’re here?”
It’s a question that goes unanswered, but you suspect it’s not one that has an answer. They’re all shocked; no one pilot more or less confused than another. 
Ignoring both your question and Nat’s, Jake places his hands on your forearms to regain your attention. “Rooster and Millie are going to take you back to our place, alright?”
“Jake, why—”
“I just need to deal with this,” he interrupts, a barely detectable plea hidden within his tone. “I’ll get rid of her and then I’ll be home.”
Your breath catches at his wording. Get rid of her. You suddenly don’t care about the irritation swirling around the group or the stress on Jake’s face. Time slows. You’re shot back to a life you’ve been trying to forget. A life that had you so often discarded you'd learned to rid people of yourself before they could do it for you. 
“Does she deserve to be gotten rid of, Jake?” you ask, just above a whisper, for him and only him.
He flinches as if you slapped him, but he doesn't release you, and a bulge briefly forms in his throat before, bit by bit, the hurt infects the features of his face. He looks down to where his fingers are wrapped around your arms and squeezes, so light and gentle that were you not sensitive in the moment--hyperaware of every movement and sound--you wouldn't have felt it.
His hands slide down to your fingers, the pads of his fingertips resting under yours, his thumb grazing along the nail of your index finger. When his eyes flick up to yours, he says, “I’ll explain later."
The woman is close enough now that you can see the harsh scrutiny in her gaze as she looks you up and down. It morphs into a glare when she notices Jake’s hands on you, and she picks up in speed.
“If we’re going, it needs to be now,” Rooster says. “Baby,” he calls out for Millie, “We gotta go.”
She leaps up and rushes over to take his hand. The smile she directs at you is forced. “I was gettin’ tired anyway.”
Rooster and Millie drop you off with matching tense faces that look misplaced on both of them; appearing so odd you can’t help but stare hard at the crease in Rooster’s brow reflecting back at you in the rearview mirror. Despite only getting to know these people tonight, you suspect the mood filling this car is uncommon, especially when these two are within a foot and a half of one another while their hands are clasped and resting on the center armrest. 
“Jake will be back soon,” Rooster says as you exit the vehicle.
Then Millie adds a syrupy sweet, “I loved meetin’ you. If you ever wanna get together, let me know. I could use another friend in this town.”
Momentarily, you forget Jake in favor of the redhead smiling at you through the rolled-down passenger window. You could use another friend, too. Someone who isn’t so perfectly formed from the outside world's perspective. Someone who might be able to understand you. 
“I’d like that,” you reply. 
Rooster waits until you’re through the door of the building before peeling out of the lot and back down the street. 
When you make it into the apartment, you’re not entirely sure what to do. Everything you could do to distract yourself, whether it be cleaning or reading or watching TV, you won’t be able to put any heart into. They’d be useless distractions. You opt instead to take a seat on the couch and wait. But then the waiting grows boring, so you start to think. 
Get rid of her. Get rid of her. Get rid of her. 
There’s a layer of bitterness coating the roof of your mouth that you can’t swallow.
You just started settling into the idea that Jake could be different—good. His heart isn’t something he appeared to hide from you and the more time you spend around him, the more honest you’ve sensed him to be. Your resistance has yet to deter or turn him sour. Regardless of how you act, he still smiles at you every morning. He still makes you coffee and picks you up from work and wants you to spend time with his friends. He tries to integrate you into his life, but now you’re not sure for what purpose if this is how he views women. Disposable. 
You can feel it begin to crush you from all sides as you imagine the day Jake will look at you differently. The way he looked at her. 
Jake is worn down when he enters the apartment and finds you on the living room couch, your spine locked pin-straight. His eyes have lost their light, there is potentially a new fine wrinkle across his forehead, and his lips are pulled so tight they almost disappear. He’s so altered from the happy man of an hour ago. In fairness, you are as well. 
When he sees you, Jake smiles softly, weakly. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “You alright?” he asks.
You hadn’t considered a plan for addressing the event Jake didn’t allow you to witness, so it is your unprocessed emotions from the last hour that have you ignoring his question in favor of fueling what next comes out of your mouth. “She’s your girlfriend, isn’t she?”
Jake’s brow pinches as he crosses his arms. There’s no anger behind it; almost disappointment that you’ve reached such a conclusion. “What makes you say that?”
“I saw the mug in the trash. She got it at the gift shop where I work. A shirt, too, that matches.” 
The strain of his shoulders releases and his head falls back a bit, like that knowledge was the very last thing he needed you to have. “Fuck,” he groans, straightening his neck. “Of all the goddamn shops in this town…” His head shakes, then his eyes lock onto yours. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Was your girlfriend.”
“Not that either. She’s just…She lived here. Before you.”
Your hands tighten into fists that lightly press into the couch cushions. “Did you kick her out?”
“Not exactly,” he says. “She was month-to-month, and the month was up.”
“That doesn’t explain the mug, or the shirt.”    
Your words are spewing so fast, every held in question breaking out, and you don’t dare stop yourself. You need to know if you’re correct. You need the explanation he promised you to confirm your suspicions. You need it. 
“You were sleeping with her, right?” You ask, though you’re already positive that’s what birthed the issues between him and that woman. “You slept with her and now she has feelings for you so you won’t let her stay here anymore…Right?”
The hurtful look that you’d caused at the beach reforms on his face, and it’s a deep stab into your chest, a mix of frustration and regret. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Sounds simple to me,” you snap. “Is this what you do? You sleep with women until it’s no longer convenient for you?”
“No! God, no. It’s not like this is my thing. She lived here and we got involved for three months. That was it,” he explains in a rush. “It wasn’t ever going to be anything more than sex, not to me, and when she realized that, she lost her shit, Ok? Broke things. Threw things. Hit me. I couldn’t let her stay here forever. I’m not some heartless dick, it just got out of hand.”
When he’s done, his chest is rising and falling like a man just off a five-mile run. He swallows hard, dragging a hand down his face in the silence that follows. 
It’s not a silence you know how to break. It’s a silence that demands you feel the full force of that stab wound in your chest, now shoved deep enough into your body to slice you right down the middle. Frustration is gone, easily overpowered by regret.
In a matter of ten seconds, Jake flipped over everything you had prematurely decided about the story between him and the woman. When you saw how she looked at you tonight and heard what Jake said, you thought you identified with her, that you’ve felt what she feels, that only you could see a swirling well of pain under her layer of anger. But as Jake stands before you, exhausted and desperate for you to understand, you realize you never considered that it’s with him you identify. Maybe it’s why pushing him away is much harder than anyone from your past. Maybe it’s why you want to believe he is good and genuine and kind. And maybe it’s why you’re realizing with each passing day that if you leave this town, you might not get away without also leaving a bit of yourself behind. Over the past months, you have—by subconscious mind or soul—connected with Jake Seresin through the pain you didn’t even know he’d faced. 
Jake steps around one of the chairs opposite the couch and his body falls into it like a ragdoll. 
“Does–” you begin, testing your voice. It’s meeker than you would like. “Does your team know what she did? Is that why they were so bothered when she showed up tonight? Everyone went into hyper-defense mode.”
He sits up, more at ease now that you’ve let go of your accusations. “They know she gave me trouble. They don’t know she would smack me or break my shit whenever I refused to treat her like my girlfriend.”
“Why?”
“If I told them while it was going on, they would’ve been pissed that I was letting her stay for a couple more weeks. They would’ve shown up at my door with a net to toss over her and drag her out,” he says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. His hands clasp and one thumb runs back and forth over the other. “And I don’t tell them now because, even though it's over, the lecture would last days.”
“With everything she was doing, didn’t you want her out as soon as possible?”
“Of course I did, but she didn’t have anywhere to go yet,” he says. “Eventually, I found her a place and paid for six months in advance. She’s got about three more months before she has to take over the lease.”
As he speaks, a dash of hypocrisy weasels its way into your system. A defensiveness that you’ve never used to protect yourself instantly latches on to Jake. 
You want him to tell his friends about what he’s been through, though you refuse to toss him the measliest crumbs from your own story. You want to explain to him that he shouldn’t have sacrificed himself in his effort to remove that woman from his life, while also ignoring the fact that self-sacrifice is the only option you’ve ever chosen. You want him to tell you everything he’s ever felt so he can remove the boulder from his back, as long as he doesn’t request the same of you. But you know Jake doesn’t work that way. With a given inch, he goes for a mile, and you can’t risk that. 
“Does she bother you often?” you ask. 
“There are days when she shows up out of nowhere, not unlike tonight, either pissed off all over again about everything that went down,” he nudges his head in the direction of the trash can, “or sickeningly sweet and asking to come back with gifts in hand.”
From that alone, you know Jake Seresin is stronger than you. He stands firm in one place despite the chaos that sporadically comes and goes from his life. He stakes his claim, choosing to remove the problem rather than consider that he is the problem and must be the one removed. But you can see, no matter how strong, it takes its toll on him.  
What comes over you next, you’re not quick enough to stop. You stand and find a new seat on the glass coffee table across from him, not fighting the closeness that gives your knees no choice but to be tucked between his. When your touch lands atop his clasped hands, they immediately untangle and, much like your legs, your hand becomes encased. Were you with anyone else, you’d feel trapped, one step away from prisoner. But here, now, with Jake, your body isn’t pulling away. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
Though his head is lowered, he nods and you catch a hint of his half-hearted smile. Then he flips his hand so your palm is face-down on his, and with his other hand traces the edges of your fingers, from thumb to pinky and back. You try to ignore the zips and tingles that shoot up your arm from his soft motions. You fail. 
“Jake, why do you even bother with a roommate? I know you can afford this place on your own.”
“I don’t like to be alone,” he says, still lazily running his touch up and down the curves of your fingers.
“How come?”
That finger ceases its gentle tracing and he looks up. He’s suddenly much closer. Less inches remain between your nose and his, your eyes and his, your lips and his. “How about this…” His breath holds a heat that brushes your cheeks. “I tell you something; you tell me something.”
When you instinctively lean back a few inches, you swear he moves forward, like a magnet chasing after its partner. Your hand starts to slip and his palm shifts so his fingers can curl up through the spaces between yours.
“Like what?” you ask.
“Something about you.”
His eyes hold yours, that increasingly intoxicating shade of mossy green unwavering. His touch seems to extend past the warmth of his grasp, now flowing through you from head to toe. 
“What do you want?” you let out an awkward chuckle to distract yourself, and hopefully Jake as well, from the heat flushing your cheeks. “My favorite color?”
“Your favorite color is green,” he says. “I want to know something more than that, if you’re willing to share it.”
You search for any meaning behind what he says other than the one you know he’s after. He doesn’t just want something more, he wants something that means more. Something deeper that will put a crack in your shell. Something that will bring you closer to him.
To your surprise, it’s not a thought you immediately banish. Giving him more would, in theory, aid the budding connection you're not sure you want to break. But what you have to give might very well break that connection anyway. It could bring him a clarity you’d rather he not have as to why you are the way you are. If your story is too much for him to accept without altering how he sees you, you will pack up and leave solely for the escape, to avoid witnessing the rapid change of his treatment of you. And whatever he has to share in exchange couldn’t possibly have you viewing him as negatively as he might view you. 
“It’s a fair trade, don’t you think?” he says, “So, what do you say?”
---
A/N: Sorry if your favorite color isn’t green. I just picked one.
tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath @townmoondaltwistle
512 notes · View notes
deanbrainrotwritings · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
—  CHRISTMAS LOVE
Tumblr media
SUMMARY : dean ate something he shouldn’t have eaten, but in the meantime, there’s something to ease the ache until it can be fixed. not that it’s a problem… per se..
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), handjob, cum eating, cum kissing, p in v, aphrodisiac chocolate cookies 
WORD COUNT : 2.3k
A/N : jimin song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — aphrodisiac. yup, I thought I hated Christmas, but actually it’s not so bad if it's centred around Dean. ✨mental illness✨ XXX
Tumblr media
Everything was fine for the last forty minutes or so. 
Dean helped his girlfriend set up the television in their bedroom—his bedroom that he partially convinced her to stay in permanently—put the snacks together, while stealing some chocolate-peppermint thumbprint cookies Charlie brought over earlier today, as his girlfriend stayed in his room to choose a Christmas movie.
He knew it would be about the Grinch. She was pretty Grinch-y sometimes around Christmas, but just like the Grinch, Dean got her to change her mind about Christmas being the most awful holiday. 
But Christmas definitely couldn’t beat Halloween—it’s their number one, favourite holiday. 
But… back to the main point, Dean couldn’t relax. He tried everything, imagined his go-to turn offs when he’s unbearably horny: Sam in lingerie, Cas in lingerie, hell—even Charlie in lingerie. He’d cringed at the thought of them, completely disgusted as his mind made it like a film without his permission, but their faces and bodies ended up transforming into the woman currently laying in his arms.
Nothing worked, not reliving being in Hell, not the memory of having the Mark—nothing made his dick soft. Mostly because after every single bad day, he went to her. 
It was her he buried himself into, her lips that kissed away tears, her caresses that healed up his wounds… you see? His mind is going straight to it like there’s no other path to take. He usually doesn’t mind, and neither does she, but this is supposed to be a wholesome moment. Just her and him watching a movie together, that’s all that he wanted to do for her today. 
Unfortunately, his dick had other ideas.
She’s not even fully clothed, which makes it even worse for him. She’s wearing nothing beneath the blue flannel she borrowed from him—no underwear, no bra, just some fluffy Christmas socks on her feet. Just the thought of it made his cock twitch. He bit his lip to hold back a moan. 
It wasn’t her fault she was practically naked. Sometimes he was way too hot and she’d end up uncomfortably sweaty in the middle of the night. Her solution: wear nothing but Dean’s shirt. It was great, Dean could smother her and be wrapped around her without her trying to get away, but right now, it ain’t that great. 
Right now, Dean knows that with one move from either one of them and she’d know what was up: yup, his dick.
Still, he was squirming too much for it to go unnoticed. And he shoved food into his mouth to pretend the chips, and the brownies, and everything else he ate were making him moan. Unlike her, he was wearing his t-shirt, some boxers, and socks to combat the cold of his concrete room. But now, he was flushed, and hot, and completely uncomfortable. 
“Dean,” she scolded, turning aggressively onto her back to gaze up at him. “What’s up? You can’t sit still—which is normal, but not this much…” she trailed off, immediately identifying the blush on his cheeks and the glaze of lust in his green eyes. “Woah, what’s that for?” She teased, poking his cheek. 
He grabbed her hand quickly before she could pull it away and kissed her palm. “Nothin’,” he brushed off, but his heart was pounding hard in his chest, and his hand tightened around her wrist as his mind told him over and over: dammit, just touch her. 
“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” she said playfully, biting her lip. Subtly, she moved her hand away from her stomach and brushed her hand up his crotch experimentally. Dean groaned softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Ah, a boner,” she said casually, then squeezed his cock over his boxers.
“You do know we’re watching the Grinch and not a porno right?” She continued to taunt with a grin on her face. He whined softly, opening his eyes to glare down at her. She batted her lashes at him innocently, but he knew she meant well. 
“You think I don’t know that?” He asked breathily. His eyes softened when she sneaked her hand inside the stretchy waistband of his briefs and brushed her fingertips along the length of his cock. “God… I… please,” he moaned, leaning over her to bury his face in her neck. 
“I’ve got you,” she told him quietly, pulling her hand out to hook her fingers over the waistband of his boxers and lower them down his thighs. He cursed softly, and allowed her to push his chest so he could lie down on his back. She straddled his thighs and smiled down at him hotly, lifting her hand up to her mouth to leave her palm slick in saliva before wrapping it around him. 
“Fuck, yes,” he whispered, clutching her thighs. 
Warm and heavy in her hand, she squeezed his shaft gently and held eye contact with him as she stroked up and down. He smoothed his hands up her thighs, grasping her hips beneath his warm flannel. He attempted to bring her forward, and she did move forward, and slid her hand up beneath his shirt to lift it.
“Come like this, yeah?” She asked, starting to twist her hand up and down his cock. He whined, a cute pout drawing his lips downwards.
“Is this… are you not turned on?” Dean questioned breathily, slightly surprised by her proposition. He didn’t try to convince her otherwise and kept his hands still on her hips. 
“I am…” she smiled, then dropped her gaze down to his cock, watching the swift slide upwards and downwards of her hand over his excitement, “but I wanna finish the movie.” He bit his lip, his eyes flickering down to her hand moving quick and steady, his precum aiding each stroke. “Then… we can have fun.” 
He hummed thoughtfully, “I’m sorry…” He’d like to apologise to her fully for ruining the night, but he gave into the pleasure of her soft hand wrapped around his cock, letting the heat of his arousal and the spark of his orgasm take over his body.
“No, I’m good with this,” she smiled sweetly, ignoring the throb of her clit and flood of arousal between her legs.
She worshipped him quietly, focused on touching his freckled skin with his shirt shoved up his chest. As he throws his head back, blushing red, vocalising the pleasure that’s painted across his stunning face. 
She faintly remembers what Dean looked like when he was younger. He’s much older now, still so beautiful—always. His face is not smooth, stubble covers his jaw, wrinkles enhance the beauty of his eyes, and always those goddamn lashes of his, curled upwards naturally. 
He’s covered from head to toe in freckles, cute freckles, some light, others dark. Sometimes they make patterns, triangles, a trail that fades, some of them overlap. He thinks it makes him look dirty, dusty, but he’s always had a heart-stopping beauty that no one could match. Effortless beauty no one could achieve. 
He’s much softer than before, but the faint cut of his abs remained. There were scars, too, ones Cas didn’t heal because Dean didn’t ask, but Cas comes through sometimes and does a full sweep. Eventually, she finds new scars, new scratches, new marks. Then, they disappear and she memorises him all over again. 
“Touch yourself,” Dean requested breathlessly, squirming and digging his blunt nails into the flesh of her hips. Lashes fluttered against his cheekbones as he opened his eyes. 
“Touch myself?” She repeated with a gentle laugh, lifting her hand up to his face. He instantly leaned into her touch and slid one of his hands to the small of her back to bring her closer. “Baby, I only wanna touch you,” she whispered enticingly, cupping his jaw to brush her thumb across his lip. 
Up and down, she continued to give him pleasure, knowing he was close as he throbbed in her hand, as his muscles twitched with every passing second. His breath hitched and she squeezed him, moving her hand faster, then lowered her hand away from his face to use both hands on his cock. 
Hands wet with his precum, she made a ring with her finger to massage the frenulum and spread the sticky arousal dribbling out of the slit of his cockhead with her thumb. 
She licked her lips at the sight and smirked, “come for me, Dean.” It was hot that she had this much control over him. His body hardened and he called out her name as he spilled hot release over her hand and his stomach. 
Curses spilled from his mouth and he seized her mischievous hands when she refused to stop. “You’re still hard,” she murmured, stunned, but he was too pleased with the release to pay attention to her words. 
“You’re mean,” Dean complained breathily, eyes opening lazily.
“It’s a gift you’ll open later tonight,” she promised in a joking manner, taking her hands out from his loving grasp. “You’re still hard, by the way,” she repeated curiously, gripping his still erect cock at the base. 
“Fuck… what?” He asked, bewildered, watching her move back and lean down to lick his cum off his stomach. He whimpered quietly, his cock red and pretty in her hand still, one hundred percent still aroused. 
The fact that she was licking his cum off his tummy didn’t help at all. The warm, wet muscle flicked smoothly across his soft skin, gathering his tangy, creamy cum. Occasionally, her teeth would graze his skin, setting his nerves alight, and she’d suck until marks painted his body. Then, she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and sucked it clean with a pleased moan. 
He grunted and threw his head back into the pillow again. He blindly made contact with her hair, buried his fingers carefully into her silky locks and tugged her upwards. She went to him without resistance and kissed him as he waited for her slick lips.
The kiss was wet and erotic. He could taste his cum, felt some of it against her tongue, unswallowed. He took it with a moan of pleasure, licking across her tongue in gratitude. He moved her hair out of the way subconsciously, pressing her closer to him, impossibly close. 
He got a hold of her hip again and smoothed his hand up the curve of her back, lifting the flannel. She hummed inquisitively, pulling away momentarily before locking lips with Dean again to run her tongue along the roof of his mouth then to taste the unique peppermint on his tongue that was definitely not from any teeth-brushing. 
She pulled away and blinked down at him, silently intrigued as he caught his breath. “Am I cursed?” He wondered out loud, bringing her hips down onto his cock needily. They moaned in unison. “Oh, fuck… did we piss a witch off?” He whined, grinding his hips up into her wet folds. “Rowena,” he growled, wondering if he’d done something to piss off the Scottish red-head or if she'd done just to fuck with him. 
“Hey, slow down…” she gasped, unbuttoning Dean’s flannel from her body at last. “Did you eat those cookies Charlie brought?” She inquired, slowing down the roll of her hips. 
“Uh… yeah,” he replied, his tone puzzled. He opened his eyes, peeking up at the now-open flannel exposing her naked body to his dirty gaze. 
“Dean, oh my God,” she giggled, halting the movement of her hips. He frowned. “How many?” 
“I dunno, four.” He shrugged. Trying to regain her focus, he took his cock in his hand and found her clit with the soft head by pushing it up and down through her folds. She moaned softly, thighs shaking.  
“Yeah, this is not going away anytime soon,” she said quietly, squirming when he held her hip and nudged her forward. 
“What do you mean?” He asked, his brows furrowing in bemusement. “What do cookies have to do wi-”
“They’re aphrodisiacs,” she interrupted him, shrugging his flannel off her shoulders before throwing it beside him. He gazed up at her, adorably dumbfounded. “Well, at least the chocolate is.” 
“What?! Why would she-? Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, sitting up higher on the bed, carding his fingers through his honey hair, making it messy and sexy. 
“I… forgot. I was hanging out with Charlie and Stevie… I’m sorry,” she gave him an apologetic smile, but amusement glimmered in her eyes, which made him smile, too. 
“No.. babe, it’s okay, I’m just really horny…” he trailed off, then took her arms and tugged her towards him with a big smile on his face. 
“We can call Cas,” she offered with a laugh, giving him a sweet kiss when he brought her closer and nuzzled his nose against hers. 
“Why don’t we test this out, first?” He asked, sneaking his hand between her legs to circle his fingertips over her entrance. Her arousal drenched his fingers and he hummed, pleased with the copious slickness that coated her pussy. 
“Huh?” She murmured, preoccupied with his adept fingers as they found her clit and began drawing slow circles. She nibbled gently on his jaw and kissed her way down his neck. 
“Why else would Charlie make them?” Dean inquired, bending one knee to gently nudge her behind and silently guide her over to his cock. She pulled away from his throat to consider his question as he lined his cock up with her entrance.
“Well, she did say-” She started thoughtfully, sinking down on his cock. 
“Exactly,” Dean cut her off, enjoying the stretch of her walls around his cock. Dean gazed up at her lustfully, slid his hands up her thighs, and flattened one hand up her stomach. “Lean back, bend your knees,” he instructed, then bit his lip. 
She raised a brow at him, but did as he asked. She bent her knees and he hooked his arms beneath, wrapping them around to grip the top of her knees, spreading her legs open for a clear view of his cock inside her.
“Sorry about the movie,” he chuckled, lifting his hips upwards.
“I guess it’s fair,” she smiled at him, leaning back with her arms behind her, between his legs, “since I forgot to tell you about the cookies.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s somethin’ to be sorry for.” 
Tumblr media
taglist
@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis
Tumblr media
main masterlist
dean winchester masterlist
kinkmas2023 masterlist
Tumblr media
© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 
do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform
483 notes · View notes
luciddownloading · 7 months
Text
Astrology Observations: Leo Edition 🦁
Tumblr media
👑Leo Suns, Leo Moons and Leo Risings are all like different types of celebrities.
Leo Sun people have classic It Girl/It Boy energy. They have the powerful ability to light up their surroundings and be the cream of the crop in whatever their domain is, exhibiting that "special something" others can't duplicate. Most of them know they have it, whether they openly admit it or not.
Leo Moons are sort of like child/teen stars with the staying power to still shine as adults. A lot of them stand out as iconic in their youth, through their talents or life experiences, and retain that quality as they mature. They may even have a "stage mom" of sorts or just a mom who fiercely supported their abilities.
Leo Risings are the accidental celebrities. Many of them are actually quite shy or modest but just radiate this magnetic, commanding quality that draws recognition their way. Attention and praise always find them, without them having to seek it.
👑 Leo people have THE most infectious laughs, especially the Suns (Sagittarius people would come second, imo). We can make people laugh just by laughing. Also, very distinct and memorable laughs.
👑 Those with Leo placements, especially in their big 3 (Sun, Moon, Rising), either adore cats or can't stand them. The Leo temperament is very similar to a cat's. Lions are cats, after all! (Leos often even have feline features, like "cat eyes") So, some Leo people will deeply bond with cats and identify with them while others will be repelled because they're too similar lol.
👑 Leo Risings have far more drama in their personal lives than most people know. Often times, some long-held secret about their family or serious relationship surfaces that really shocks people.
👑 Venus in Leo people are often absolutely in love with fashion/clothes/aesthetics. It's like their true first love, not that boy or girl from their teens (though I am sure they're great!) Total fashionistas with the confidence to make garbage bags look like couture.
Some Leo Venus people go the other way and could not care less about fashion. But, their careless style choices are still cute, mostly because they're so at ease in them.
👑 No shade but those with Mercury in Leo sometimes talk just to talk; to be entertaining or fill up the silence. They don't care as much about factual info or depth. They just don't want to be boring! But, their gift is they can convince anyone they know what they're talking about, even when they have no clue.
👑 A Leo Sun's birthday has deep significance to them. They are the type to either always throw a party/go on vacation for their birthday or just treat the day as a time for renewal or rebirth. Also, if this is your Sun sign, please keep track of your yearly Solar Return chart. It affects you a little more than it does others.
👑 Let the Leo Moon in your life have their little dramatic moments (barring anything toxic, of course). They need that emotional release and get over them pretty quickly.
👑 Mars in Leo people might be extra turned on by make-up sex or arguments that lead to sex. Which may sound problematic but it can work if their partner is also into it, is equally passionate and neither takes it too far. They find a certain amount of drama sexy.
👑 Though the stereotypes might make you expect otherwise, Leos usually love each other and get along exceptionally well. The bond can be incredibly loyal, lots of fun and very special, particularly if they are romantic partners or best friends. Instead of competing for attention, they know how to support the other's light and allow each other to be great.
Tumblr media
664 notes · View notes
whispereons · 7 months
Text
Masterlist!
I'm Whispereons and I mainly write yandere Genshin Impact fics. The SAGAU is my long time obsession if it wasn't obvious.
For ease of convenience I will have this masterlist pinned with my works, taglist, and tags used on my blog.
Currently I don't have any rules to abide by. I enjoyed all the comments, reblogs, asks and submissions I received thus far!
Just a warning for anyone new, I advise you to make sure your blog has some form of personalization. Like a profile pic, a sentence saying hello in your bio or even just a single post saying you're human will do. It's to prevent you from getting the report and block combo when I do my spam/porn bot purges.
Tumblr media
SAGAU works
Oracle!Reader - with my current editor @serpent-benediction (hopefully) fixing up the older chapters.
Followers Special: 1K
Inazuma:
City - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Sea - Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
Liyue:
City - Part 9, Part 10, Wilderness - Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18 City V2 - Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24
(Don't judge my old works too harshly, I really was new at writing!)
Self-aware Genshin Impact Series (incomplete): Warmth, Screen, Team Player, Over This Shit
Oneshots - Another Drink, It's tough to be a God
Normal Yandere Genshin Impact:
Venti/Barbatoes x EOS!Reader: Planned, Protection or Possession?, Control
Tags to use to navigate my posts!
#whisp's amateur work - all of my writing
#sagau oracle au - everything related to my oracle!reader (was implemented late so the first tag is more reliable)
#a whispered response - me answering asks/submissions
#whisp's collection - my personal collection of my fav authors, artists, and anything else. My mindless reblogs aren't tagged with anything to avoid cluttering the tag system.
#peering into the whisp - if I get personal asks, this is the tag I would use
If you regularly sends asks with some way to identify you then I usually give you a tag too.
My taglist for my Oracle!Reader:
If you are in italics, that means I couldn't tag you! That could be due to you being shadow banned or having your settings set to hide you from being searched. I will keep this master list updated with each new user, I truly don't mind tagging you all. It's honestly a nice feeling.
@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername
@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @starsofabundance, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise, @melovaaaa, @alittletiredcry, @aphxdea, @atsukawolfcat, @desirabletravel, @pinkpainc, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @yuyuzi-ling, @hyperfixationwhore
@juuuuuj101010, @avalordream, @kurayamioterasu, @tottybear, @koiikuno, @lynx-of-skies, @quacking-simp, @synthe4u, @kascar-chronicle, @hug4helios, @hug4helios, @silverstarred, @koiikuno, @ithoughtthinks, @remiivx, @lemonade7255, @melpomenelurks, @average-yandere-enjoyer, @mnhao, @fuji-sen, @altumsomnum
649 notes · View notes
joels6string · 2 years
Text
Whatever Helps You Sleep
Joel Miller x f!reader
Tumblr media
Summary: It's a restless night for you and the nomad you've been tied to in search of a new place to call home.
Rating: E
Word Count: 2.8k
Content: unprotected p in v sex, fingering, creampie in a post-apocalyptic world like morons, so much desperation, Joel Miller being a grumpy but standup guy
Tumblr media
Everything hurt. All the fucking time. 
Every joint throbbed, the balls and socket grinding and scraping, each taut fiber threading beneath your skin begging for any release of the eternal tension that had settled in over two decades ago, the cold you’d still not gotten used to amplifying the ache as you laid on the rickety old mattress on the floor. The springs jutting into your back certainly didn’t help, nor did the sounds in the distance too far away to identify. The knots in your stomach mimicked the ones that had settled into each muscle, your teeth chattering against the chill of the fall night. 
“Why you twitchin’ like that?” Joel. 
The man you now traveled with had found you holed up alone in a building, your fingers trembling on a rifle that looked too big in your hands and eyes wide enough to display the fear that had consumed your every waking minute clear as day. The loss of your group at the hand of bandits had left you alone and unfit to travel the infected-swarmed lands around you. You’d accepted your fate to starve to death or put a bullet in your own brain should you get a bite. While you hadn’t been the weakest link on your team, you couldn’t go it solo. But Joel and his 15-year-old girl, Ellie had come bursting through in search of supplies and while he’d made you beg for your life with the cold metal of his revolver pressed to your temple, he let you keep it, offering safe passage through to the next habitable town. 
That was months ago.
“Sorry,” you mumbled at his complaint, you hadn’t even realized you’d been doing it. 
“What hurts?” he asked, that gravelly voice heavy with exhaustion, or maybe exasperation. 
“I’m fine.”
“Then stop movin' so damn much.”
Easier said than done. That rhythmic movement was the only thing easing the pain and keeping you even slightly warm, your subconscious searching for relief here in a rare quiet moment. An old bullet wound in your hip always flared up when the temperature got too low, paired with years of unrest and panic, comfort was nothing but a forgotten memory. 
“You’re makin’ the floor seem like a better option,” he grunted again, guilt joining the churning turmoil in your gut.
“I’m sorry.”
“You cold?”
Yes. Yes, you were fucking cold. It had to be no more than 40 degrees and all you had was a pair of jeans worn thin as the tissue paper that had gone extinct far too soon and a flannel that barely reached your wrists. You were freezing. 
“I said I’m fine,” you snapped back, thankful Joel had given Ellie the bedroom to sleep in, she needed the rest away from the bickering.
“I know what you said,” he retorted, “but you ain’t good at lying.”
He had you there. Especially when your dishonesty manifested in a hunt for solace from perpetual agony. 
“Is it your hip?” He knew. He’d pulled the bullet out and cauterized it not even two months into your time with them. Your piercing wails as the searing hot metal had seared at your flesh still haunted your nightmares, the smell burned into your nose, and Joel’s apologetic fretting at the time was the most unguarded you’d ever seen him. For a moment he made you think he actually cared.
“Yeah,” you muttered, arguing was fruitless.
“Undo your jeans.” What did he say? “Get some heat and pressure on it.”
In the search for any form of reprieve, you did as he asked. He’d gotten up, you could hear water sloshing and the click of the propane heating plate you’d used to warm your dinner, his heavy boots thudding above your head before his weight dipped the mattress again. 
“May I?” His tone was gentle and quiet—wary—and you nodded.
Joel was an attractive man, and not just by today’s standards but by general ones. Tall, broad, and sun-goldened skin, his hair and beard graying faster than they should beneath the weight he carried. Despite his hulking frame and aloof demeanor, there was a grace to him; you hated admitting to yourself that should he ever ask, you’d be more than willing to offer yourself up. You’d done well to repress the urges you first felt walking behind him and watching his wide shoulders sway and his competence around weapons and foraging alike, but every so often they crept back, usually on nights like this where you begged for a sliver of respite. 
A warm, wet cloth pressed against the hideous scar marring the side of your hip, a loud sigh whooshing from your lips. It did feel nice. The heat washed down to your numb toes, his large palm holding pressure down that did alleviate enough of the misery that owned you to let you settle, your knees no longer rubbing together in search of comfort. 
“You’re freezing,” he noted, and you bit back the retort on your tongue teasing him for pointing out the obvious, “I gave Ellie the blanket, all I got is a coat.”
“It’s fine,” you lied again, the heel of his palm pressing down and drawing a relieved cry from your parted lips as your cheeks heated in embarrassment. 
He did it again, massaging out the rigidity holding you hostage, the muscle loosening beneath his weight, trigger points releasing as he pressed them against the bones of your pelvis. When the rag had cooled, you expected him to roll over and try to sleep again, but a large hand swallowed you whole as he continued, now skin on skin, the sensation sending a forbidden surge between your thighs. This time, your teeth sunk into your lower lip in lieu of allowing the traitorous whines from breaking free. He’d gotten closer at some point, you could feel the heat radiating off of his body, your resolve holding strong enough to resist closing the remaining distance between you. 
“Why didn’t you leave me with that group a few months back?” you finally asked, the question had been burning in your mind since he’d refused to let you stay with a small civilization you’d found. It had been your original agreement after all. 
“Didn’t trust ‘em,” he answered quietly, his fingers continuing to knead into your flesh, “I have enough trouble sleepin’.”
That was as heartfelt as Joel Miller was going to get tonight. 
Callouses met scar tissue as you melted into the lumps in the surface molding around you now, his trigger finger finding a new skill as he soothed you to enough comfort to have your eyelids fluttering closed. The cold still nipped at your toes and nose, your body trembling as a result despite the searing hot palm on your skin. But at least the pain had receded enough.
“Scootch on back,” he murmured, tugging on you lightly in what resembled more of an offer than an instruction, but it was one you couldn’t refuse. 
Within seconds you were no longer yearning for the scratchy wool blanket Joel kept folded in his pack, his chest firm against your back, knees locked behind yours, and a heavy hand on your lower stomach the only source of warmth you needed. You sought more, closing what little distance remained between you as he shifted to allow you the space to do so, your smaller frame fitting easily in the stretch of his chest. 
“Now will you stop fidgetin’?” The husky tone he spoke with was softer than the first, less perturbed, his fingers still brushing through the open waistband of your jeans. 
It was mortifying but practically instinctual the way you pressed your backside against him, hoping his fingers would slip lower, breach the fraying waistband of the panties you’d cycled through for too many years. He stiffened slightly as you repeated the motion, desperate as lust took control, you could feel it in the way his bicep flexed on your arm and his palm pressed slightly tighter. The proximity allowed you to vibrate with the repressed groan he kept trapped in his chest, your brain too fogged from the scent of dirt and gunpowder clinging to his skin and the way his beard caught on your hair as he shifted, pressing his growing bulge against you lightly. 
“Joel…” It fell pathetically from your lips, whining and dazed as your stomach tensed at his offer to give what you’d so ardently desired. 
He clicked his tongue. “Why d’you gotta say it like that?”
“Please.”
Whatever control he’d been gripping like the barrel of his shotgun fell away, his hand leaving your abdomen to sting in the stark temperature change and pinch your chin, turning your face towards his own. You could barely see him in the dark, but the vulnerability swimming in his eyes glowed in the faint moonlight seeping in from the window. Did you take this plunge? There was no going back. Not for you. When you parted ways—and you knew you would—what happened then? Would you get over him? This man that saved your life more times than you could count with your fingers and toes, fed you before himself, and fought the battles you couldn’t. In a world as broken as this, Joel Miller stood alone.
His kiss was timid, testing the limits and giving you enough time to change your mind here and now before it escalated. Always the gentleman. But when you pulled his bottom lip between your own deepening what he’d begun, it took seconds for his tongue to dart into your waiting mouth and unleash a dam of pent-up attraction and need. 
The fervor you accepted his affections with only fueled the embering fire, his growl of appreciation echoing in your mouth as your fingers thread into his hair to pull him closer, the grayed locks softer than you expected. You didn’t know what to expect from him, was he generous or selfish? Greedy or giving? The question was answered as his weathered fingers slowly slid down your torso, palming roughly at your breasts as he kissed you still before slipping them beneath the final barrier and cupped at your mound, his middle slowly dragging through your slit.
“Jesus Christ,” he marveled at the slick that had accumulated, your lips brushing through the whiskers on his jaw as you spread your thighs wider to grant him access.
No time was wasted, too much had already and that was being made very clear by the sopping mess between your thighs and the franticness Joel’s belt and jeans were undone to relieve the pressure on the effect you had over him. His middle digit found your clit, circling slowly while he enjoyed the way your back was arching and the subdued whimpers ever so faintly evident in your panting breath. His hair was still knotted in your grasp and you greedily tugged his lips back to yours, sloppily kissing him as you let the heat coursing through you take control, losing your inhibitions and enjoying this long-awaited moment.
Your gluttonous body welcomed him eagerly when he dragged lower and slid inside your waiting channel, his hand clamping over your mouth just in time to muffle the wanton cry that finally broke free. The way he shushed you only made it worse, your body bucking down against his hand impatient for more. Slipping his ring finger in stretched you even further, his pace increasing as you writhed in his hold, your breath hot on his palm as it puffed out in blissful little gusts. 
“Warmin’ up?” he cooed gruffly, his tone hinting at cocky as you cried out again, his fingers scratching at the rough patch deep inside of blackening what little your vision could see.
You were teetering on the edge, your body rocking on the precipice before his thumb pressed down on your buzzing bundle of nerves and sent you rappelling down into euphoria. White hot heat banished the last of the cold that lingered, your hairline damp as your shirt clung to the sweat pouring down your back. 
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he soothed, continuing gentler now as you spasmed in his arms, “That felt good, didn’t it?”
All you could muster was a nod, the hand that was still lightly covering your mouth gripping your chin and directing your mouth to his again, his tongue probing into your parted lips as you collected enough coherence to kiss him lazily in return. 
“Your turn,” you breathed, a crooked smirk twitching as he pulled your jeans down to the middle of your thighs, shifting enough to free himself from his loosened garments. 
“You tell me if it ain’t right,” he instructed, nuzzling his nose behind your ear as the head of his cock slipped between your folds, pushing into you slowly as he sighed in contentment.
It was right. It was so fucking right you instinctually fucked yourself back, sheathing him completely in one swift movement. He was long and thick, stretching you past where any other had gotten you, your body molding around him as if it had been waiting for him to make it whole. A hand on your hip kept you still had he began to gently rut into you, acclimating to the feeling of being immersed in a woman’s warm, wet heat in an effort to not cut this shorter than it already probably would be. You were impossibly full, it had been a long time since you’d trusted anyone enough for this, your fingers no match for what he could do and the way he made you feel.
“Shit, you feel good,” he purred in that Texan accent that made you swoon, “You okay?”
“Uh-huh,” you gasped, your fingers returning to his hair to cradle him close.
The pace picked up, his hand on your hip sliding back between your thighs as he thrust harder and faster chasing a high he hadn’t felt in years. You wanted more, wanted to give him more, and as he began to lose control your body began to drift from your side to your stomach, his arms working to brace himself over your prone form as you lifted your hips slightly into the air to feel every punch of his hips on yours. Your ass rippled against his force, his grunts fueling the second wave crashing against your lower abdomen, the pressure building rapidly as he fucked into you like a man starved. The crook of your arm caught your sounds as he sought relief in you, the only thing keeping you in place were his hands as your knees slipped on the bare surface of the mattress you were pressed into. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mewled, slamming you back onto his length as he surged forward, every inch of him buried deep in your cunt until you were strangling him as you came again, him following not long behind.
When he finally stilled you could feel him spurting thick and hot inside of you, your pussy still twitching around him as your shaky legs burned from the exertion. As he pulled out you whined in protest at the loss, your body collapsing down as he reached for a rag and began wiping what was leaking from between your legs. 
“Shouldn’t have done that,” he griped as another glob dripped free, “Got carried away.”
“Timing should work in our favor,” you eased, your cycle still the only normal thing left in this God-forsaken world and he grunted in acknowledgment, his brow relaxing from its concerned grimace. 
“We should get some sleep.”
You nodded, watching him carefully as he settled back down on his back, his head turning to peer at you and finding your wide-eyed anticipation staring back at him. With a chuckle he opened his right arm out welcoming you onto his chest, a gesture you scampered to take before he changed his mind. You tucked yourself into the space between his neck and jaw, your arm draping over his middle as he wrapped you up tight. It didn’t take long to fall asleep. 
When you woke the next morning he was already up, repacking up and readying for another day on the road to nowhere. 
“We’re headin’ down to settle somewhere,” he sounded from the corner, his gaze remaining locked on his open pack, “figured you could get your fresh start there.”
“With you?” you asked timidly, your voice still heavy with sleep after the best night of rest you’d had in years.
“I don’t see why not.”
Ellie’s arrival into the kitchen you and Joel had slept in cut your conversation short, her always perceptive eyes flicking from you to Joel on the other side of the room. 
“Did you two finally seal the deal?” the teenager asked nonchalantly, both your faces falling in horror. You thought you’d been quiet. “What? Don’t worry, my innocent eyes and ears were spared if you did. You’ve just…never smiled at her when she’s actually looking.”
Tumblr media
Joel Miller Masterlist
Series coming soon: More Than My Father’s Son
3K notes · View notes
trashytoastboi · 2 months
Note
Hi, it's me again could you do a super lovely and shy and cold as they are, do a headcanon of Zoro, Ace and Law confessing their love to S/O as a Strawhats member?
Hiya! I feel like every one of my replies are going to be apologizing for the long waits •_•; But I hope you enjoy ~ 🍀 I'm experimenting with formats and layout at the moment so if my things look a little skwonky I apologise 🤣
Tumblr media
Headcanons: Zoro, Ace, Law confessing their love to Straw-Hat! Reader
> (Gender Neutral) <
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Roronoa Zoro
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
⚔️ Zoro wasn’t one too fixated on appearances, that wasn’t the greatest source of attraction to him. It’s more of having the sentiment that his partner would be the most attractive person to him. He could appreciate humor, stubbornness and strength. Maybe it was the drawing point for him that {Name} possessed all these qualities. Sure with their first meeting he found them annoying, occasionally a bit invasive till he realized it was concern that drove them to always check up on him. Zoro likened his feelings to “Just another crewmate” “Just thinking of them like everyone else.” Zoro was dense at the best of times, other times fiercely intuitive and he was the former, until it dawned on him. Hitting him violently when Zoro finally identified these feelings as something more than just loyalty, it was more affectionate. Scarier yet simultaneously more gentle. 
⚔️  Zoro took a long time working up to the decision of confessing. I mean, they belonged to the same crew. Would this affect or change anything? He racked his brain, day in and day out. Going for the occasional brooding session while looking out into the vast ocean. Searching his thoughts and fears for any answer they could provide. Zoro figured this wasn’t in his nature, brute force was best. Just going in head first regardless of the outcome was best. So that’s what he decided he would do. 
⚔️ The day was good, relaxed. No marines, no enemies nor outlandish happenings. The day was just an eventful, jovial day on the sea. Sailing and navigating through to their next destination. Zoro thought other than chaos this would be the best time for his confession. Zoro called {Name} out, gruffly and abruptly. One might have thought he was challenging them to fight rather than getting ready to confess his feelings. It was not graced by flowery words, nor roundabout explanations of how he got to that point. A simple straight forward confession where he simply said “I love you.” 
⚔️  {Name} looked surprised, stunned even. They mouthed a slight ‘Ah’ as if some question had been answered. They’d long realized his unusual behavior, or the lingering stares when he would get caught staring. Never a glare, they sensed no anger from it. It had always been a look of affection and warmth. {Name} realized his weird behavior had been because of his crush. They smiled, they’d have to answer his passionate and curt confession. With the look of confidence, {Name} knew Zoro well enough that they could tell he dwelled on this. Giving plenty of thought to his confession. 
⚔️Zoro said it, he said it with all his resolve. He didn’t exactly want to shout at {Name} so while all his passion was in it, it came across nonchalantly. Zoro kept a brave face, holding back his anxieties until an answer had been given. Every second only served to heighten his anticipation. Zoro let out a nervous chuckle, was this the end of the friendship they cultivated? Would this be an awkward encounter that leaves things strange between them? He didn’t know. Zoro had many questions, with no answers. 
⚔️ Accepting the confession: {Name} kept him waiting with bated breath, seeing his anxiety they had to put Zoro’s worries to ease. They smiled, took a deep breath and told him the truth of their own feelings. Not as daunting as being the one to make the first move but still took courage to reciprocate. {Name} felt an overwhelming joy when they saw how Zoro’s face washed over with the brief respite of relief before converting into happiness. He had a smile that he couldn’t hide. Not his usual little smile but something that indicated his true happiness. Zoro acted on his feelings and pulled {Name} into a hug. 
⚔️ Denying the confession: {Name} felt a sinking in their hearts, they looked at Zoro with a sad smile that said everything. Zoro attempted to hide his expressions of disappointment. Maybe his face kept a neutral expression, one that said he didn’t mind. The subtle drop in his shoulders and his bolstering confidence that dissipated into something more meek spoke volumes. He chuckled saying not to worry, probably just the alcohol got him saying crazy things. They both knew that wasn’t the case but to spare each other it was going to be the cause. 
Tumblr media
Portgas D. Ace
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
🔥 Ace is one of those people who finds it relatively easy to get along with others. Some might accredit this to his bright disposition and easy going nature. Ace generally took care of new recruits to Whitebeard’s crew, especially those in his own division. After reuniting with Luffy, Ace got to spend time with the Straw-Hat crew. Politely thanking them for taking care of his troublesome little brother. Ace enjoyed spending time with the crew, learning about the people who Luffy had taken as his chosen family, though amidst them, there was one person that stood out in particular and that is {Name}. Ace couldn’t really list a happening, a reason why or how. It just happened. He found them intriguing, and his curiosity blossomed into fondness until he realized that maybe his feelings had dug themselves deeper than he realized. 
🔥Ace really sat on his reasoning, pondering and continuously trying to think about whether or not he should confess. They aren’t part of the same crew and that alone could cause some issues if {Name} agreed to his confession. He knew that they were loyal to Luffy, and wouldn’t leave although the same could be said for Ace and the Whitebeard pirates. Ace hated the ambiguous feelings of discomfort it stirred in him, should there be a clear distinction, a clear line drawn to find where they stand. Should issues be faced only after they have arisen? Where there was a will there was a way and Ace decided no matter the outcome, he wanted to assure himself that he did what he could with what he has. 
🔥 As with everything, Ace decided to go in with all the passion he has. Not to be mistaken, he bolstered himself with confidence, yet found himself unable to completely calm the raging nerves. Sweaty palms, shaking hands, the ideal starter pack for a low simmering anxiety. Ace swallowed the fear and doubts before telling {Name} about his feelings. It became an onslaught of words and praises, non logical, highly emotive reasoning that truly came from the heart. The purest form of honesty that [Name} had ever seen with Ace’s confession. Even watching how his face increasingly grew more red with every passing moment of him becoming more bashful when listening to himself. Though he still did not stop. 
🔥 {Name} needed a moment to process everything that Ace said, they easily understood the gist of it. Ace liked them, bordering love. The word itself was never mentioned, Ace’s actions spoke volumes however and seemed to confirm the fact. He never once turned away and faced them head on, his courage and confidence both were highly commendable and likable. {Name} wanted to answer him properly. To return Ace’s confession with as much sincerity that he had confessed with. They asked for a moment, apologizing for the underlying stress they notably caused Ace. He smiled, the idea that {Name} was willing to put so much thought was already promising enough. 
🔥 Ace acted as if he was alright and while he told {Name} to take whatever time they needed, he still felt it was a tortuous wait in the meantime. He upheld his promise and refused to pressure them unnecessarily into a half hearted decision. {Name} looked as if they were ready to respond and Ace drew in a deep breath to steady himself. He never wanted his worry to show on the surface and always tried his hardest to only show the happier, stronger side of himself. 
🔥 Accepting the confession: {Name} was not dense in the department of things like crushes nor love, however even they didn’t really notice the depth of Ace’s feelings. At least not until moments ago when he lay bare every thought and emotion he felt for them. {Name} was so touched and thankful that their own feelings were in fact mutual, Ace was hard to dislike, easier to like and probably a natural heartbreaker. Without the intention of course, {Name} inwardly laughed at the thought of the amount of people that easily fell in love with Ace’s lovely personality. “I feel the same way” {Name} admitted, the words sent Ace soaring. He honestly didn’t expect {Name} to feel the same but felt an abundance of thankfulness. Ace wrapped his arms around them in a tight hug. 
🔥 Denying the confession: {Name’s} eyes seemed to reflect a world of sadness, Ace felt his heart drop. He knew this would be a refusal. He promised himself he would not be upset, and even so, it hurt more than he realized. {Name} turned him down gently, explaining that things and circumstances didn’t really allow the two of them to explore something that may or may not work out. {Name} reiterated that they appreciate Ace, and do find him pleasant to be around however not to the extent of a romantic relationship. Ace forced out a bright smile that could deceive anyone looking at it. He gave them a pat on the back telling them not to feel guilty over his one sided feelings. 
Tumblr media
Trafalgar Law
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
🍄 The insufferable atmosphere of the Straw-Hat crew…Law honestly thought he would lose his mind before long. They weren’t bad people and that was part of the problem, they didn’t fit the word PIRATE. At least in his mind, Law admits he finds himself moved when listening to Luffy’s definition of a true pirate. The only place Law found any solace happened to be the crows nest. Sure he’d lose a good night’s sleep but he’d gain a few hours of peace and quiet, all to himself. Which was the plan, though {Name} had elected to take over the crow’s nest to make sure everyone could adequately rest. Including Law. Needless to say, he’s not happy about losing his only quiet spot so {Name} put forth a preposition to at least split the times. Each would take half the watch while the other one rested. Law found {Name’s} presence oddly soothing, they were a tiny, clear patch in the hurricane of the Straw-Hats. The only person who didn’t rile Law up in the wrong way or exhaust him. Spending all the time together gave Law and {Name} an opportunity to get to know one another. Law learned of their hobbies, tiny quirks and the things that they liked. 
🍄 When did he start paying so much attention to them? When was the moment when Law could easily and confidently recite their favourite things? The things they dislike? When did he begin to look forward to spending time with {Name}? Law couldn’t answer these questions, it happened. Slowly, silently, until the obvious realization hit him all at once. He sighed, everytime he tried to find an answer. Every instance of that tightening sensation in his chest and the nervous feeling that churned up his stomach. Law tried again and again to diagnose himself with SOMETHING. Avoiding the obvious, the glaringly obvious answer. His ‘symptoms’ only ever flared up in {Name’s} presence. To say that this pretty much sent him into a mild existential crisis would be putting it lightly. 
🍄 He had to treat it somehow, had to settle things. Well, Law desperately grappled with logic and reason against emotion that wracked his whole body with their outcry. He cursed at himself, how deeply {Name} invaded his thoughts and feelings. How they made him unbearably nervous, yet warm and comfortable all the same. The feeling of being at peace. Law hadn’t felt that in many years, he was swayed by emotions. Somehow he had enough reasoning to say confessing was the only way to clear this up. He would expose his heart and give it to {Name} (he spoke himself out of doing it literally). Surprisingly Law’s face stained red with a burning blush that coloured his ears, face and even the back of his neck. He forcefully pushed out the words of his love, and the struggle he faced when holding the feelings in. Seeing Law so fired up and ruffled felt foreign but all more genuine. 
🍄 {Name} listened patiently to everything Law had to say, every word of honest thought he uttered. Some words made him seem clumsy, others poetic. {Name} had to gather themselves after such a passionate confession and insight into Law’s mind. They spent so much time together, and got to know one another in a deeper sense than most. The most unsuspecting place, the crows nest. Who ever thought it would become a place to lay everything in the open. A quiet place where their true thoughts arose in the night amidst the steadily swaying sea. 
🍄 Law silently begged for {Name} to give him an answer. {Name} sat on it, thinking about it. Law all the while looked cool yet under the surface he slowly lost his mind when trying to hold it together. {Name} looked at Law and could see the subtle twitches and fidgets, how he picked at his fingers, or shifted his weight from one foot to the next. They didn’t want to keep him in suspense any longer and opted to give him a clear answer. 
🍄 Accepting the confession: All of those late night conversations really gave {Name} a deeper insight into Law as a person. His insecurities, his goals and ambitions, his insecurities and what he fears. The reverse was true for {Name} as well, they told Law so much about themselves that they often stressed about if they had overshared or not. Gradually the way Law looked at them changed, the way {Name} viewed Law changed as well when a warmth and fondness grew from the comfort of his company. {Name} accepted. They wanted to pursue this, whether it was a short lived passion or a long romance, if it was with Law they needed to see where it ended up. They teased Law asking if he ever anticipated he would date a Straw-Hat. 
🍄 Denying the confession: The time spent with Law had always been an honor. {Name} felt respect for the man, and companionship to the degree of being allies. They always thought they could be great friends with him. They didn’t realize the extent his feelings for them had grown or that they were romantic in nature. {Name} mustered the softest tone they possessed but clearly, and concisely turned him down with no room for reconsideration. The razor sharp blow cushioned by gentle words was another aspect of theirs Law liked. He didn’t think it would be used on him but he could love them secretly until his feelings faded. He accepted their decision and still remained at their side, even continuing the crows' nest shift sharing.
218 notes · View notes
inkelea · 6 months
Text
cherry flavored problems! ✭
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: idol!yang jeongin x nonidol!gn!reader
synopsis: it’s hard to be affectionate with your boyfriend in public, as there is always the doubt of being observed.
genre: fluff, some angst. drabble.
warnings: self conscious thoughts, kissing.
word count: 0.5k
a/n: jeongin has been serving so hard this cb i couldn’t keep myself from writing for him. this is basically a copy-pasted scene from nevertheless (pls tell me you’ve watched it), hope you enjoy<3
Tumblr media
hiding was something you did very well, however, you didn’t think you would end up needing to hide your relationship with your boyfriend.
dating an idol is… complicated at best. with time, it has become easier to cover the nature of your relationship, the mentality of hiding easily infiltrating your brain. and that’s why you are asking yourself what the hell is yang jeongin doing talking to you in the middle of campus.
he had caught you going down the stairs, which were very unconventionally situated in a very visible place, so why was he here?
“what are you doing? do you want to die from your manager’s wrath?”
he laughs, a dimple appears on his cheek and his hand runs through his hair. you can’t help but smile too. the lollipop on his other hand is hanging right to his leg, which makes you afraid that it’s going to stain the surely very expensive jeans your boyfriend is wearing.
“what flavor is that?”
his eyes lock with yours, not caring slightly about the possibility of paparazzis being around. after licking the lollipop one more time, his hand rests on the railing behind you. before you know it his lips are on yours and you can feel the candy flavor on them. is it cherry or strawberry? without giving yourself much more time to discover it, you push him back by his chest and turn completely to the other side, hand covering your mouth.
when you turn again, he is already looking at you, a small smile on and head getting closer to you.
“did you get the flavor?”
his thumb goes over your lower lip, where sugar from the candy was left. feeling suddenly shy, you look down, feeling too embarrassed for no reason.
doubs cloud your mind and anxiety takes over your body. at the end of the day, you are only an university student. he could have chosen anyone he wanted, any other idol who had their fans at their feet from how pretty they look on stage. you are just a random person, and he is the boy named maknae on top. why was he even risking it all for you?
“anyone can see us innie.”
your voice is laced with sadness, regret even. he sighs and places his hand on your shoulder, shaking it slowly.
“i don’t care, i just want to be able to kiss you in public without feeling the guilt eating me up.”
swallowing down all your second thoughts, you hug him. his body is tense for a few seconds until you start playing with his hair, making him hum calmly.
smiling playfully, he kisses you once again. when you identify the cherry flavor in his lips, you smile into the kiss. his hand travels from your jaw to your neck, making circles on the surface. its weird, but honestly comforting. with your hand holding his arm, he feels at ease, the most carefree he has been in a very long time.
“fuck dating rumours.”
you laugh and leave a kiss on his hand. “fuck dating rumours indeed.”
Tumblr media
@mochamvgz
Tumblr media
© inkelea on tumblr | don't copy, repost or plagiarize my work.
389 notes · View notes
autisticlancemcclain · 7 months
Text
Pidge stares hard at her twisted fingers. Her eyes have long since begun to burn, and she holds her face carefully parallel to the floor, knees presses to the sides of her head, watching as her vision gets blurrier and heavier, until eventually the tear drops from her eyes and splatters on her glasses.
“How did you handle it?” she asks hoarsely, not even looking up. “The homesickness.”
For a while Lance doesn’t say anything. His breathing is steady and near-silent, quick little inhales and long, shallow exhales. Practiced breathing, when he’s choking back tears. He does it several times a day. Sometimes Pidge can’t stand to look at him. She doesn’t understand where he puts it all, the sadness that is constantly bubbling out of him. Doesn’t understand where he finds the strength to let his voice get choked up in the middle of a sentence and keep going like there’s nothing wrong. She feels hot shame heat up her own body, in the clear absence of his; a secondhand embarrassment at emotion that shouldn’t be advertised so easily, so trustingly, so constantly.
Eventually he sighs. When Pidge looks up there are tears in his brown eyes, as there so often are, but she fights the urge to look away and tucks herself under his open arm, instead.
It’s warm, in his hold. Bony too. But he holds her without fear of squeezing too tightly, winds his long arm around her back and shoulders and presses her face into his neck. He smells, as he always does, of flowers, although Pidge could not identify what kinds, and she imagines that she’s sat under the rows and rows of shelves in her mother’s greenhouse, watching her work. Her hands shake so she winds them around the creases of Lance’s jacket and grips tightly.
“I don’t,” he says after thinking about it. “I carry it with me. I always have.”
Pidge thinks she knew that, in her bones. She thinks she understood that about Lance from the very second she first saw him, two years ago at the Garrison auditorium in September; this boy who slouched and grinned and shot finger guns and laughed like a hyena and cried four times a day. The boy whose eyes were deep and dark and filled with an abyssal pain that hurts to look at. Off-putting.
“That sounds lonely.”
Lance hums. He shifts, resting his chin on the top of her head. She feels the slow drip of his tears, down his nose and plopping onto her scalp, and parcels at how his heartbeat doesn’t change, the ease in his voice. The shaky steel of it.
“It is. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t. Lonely. It’s just something I carry.”
Her breath shudders out of her, big and large and shaking her shoulders. She hears what he doesn’t say: I have gotten used to it. She thinks to herself: I will never get used to this weight.
She says: “I don’t understand.”
Ever so slowly, he begins to rock them back and forth, barest sway of their bodies. His lips press her hairline. Her face crumples and her breathing quickens as she forces down the tears, shoves back the mirroring feeling, the mixing of Lance and Matt happening in her head.
“When I was four my oldest brother moved away. He was getting married. I never got over that, I don’t think. He lived down the street longer than he lived down the hall but I never really stopped missing him.”
He pauses for a moment, and Pidge knows it’s deliberate in the way his whole body stops moving, pondering, before starting again.
“Sometimes I miss him on purpose.”
Pidge pulls away, enough to look him in the face, to watch his sad eyes and slight smile and the familiarity in the uncanny expression, the Lance of it.
“Why?” she asks desperately, hands twisting further in his sleeves. “Why would you ever — on purpose?”
“Because I love him on purpose.” The tears drip down Lance’s face as a steady waterfall and he doesn’t even flinch at them, doesn’t even blink. Lets his eyes fill and spill over again and again like cupped hands under a leaking faucet. “When I miss my mom I love her. When I miss my sister I love her. When I miss my brother I love him. When I miss Keith I love him. When I miss you, I love you.” He gently pulls his sleeves away from her clutched fingers, wrapping his hands around them instead and squeezing. “The grief hurts like a never healing wound. But I’m terrified of not having that. I don’t want to wake up one day without the reminder of how deeply I’ve loved and how deeply it will always be a part of me, that love. I don’t know how I’d ever function without it.”
“You don’t function with it,” Pidge argues. “It — haunts you. I see it in your face.”
Lance shrugs. “I function with it. I function because of it. Every day that I miss them I live because I will miss them until I see them again. It’s an — anticipation, almost. I miss you and I can’t wait to see you again mean the same thing.”
A strange noise bursts out from Pidge’s throat, gut-punching. I miss you and I can’t wait to see you again mean the same thing.
She misses her brother in her bones. Her father in her blood. Her mother in her heart.
Waiting to see them again pulses at every level in her body. That’s — manageable.
“Oh,” she says, and she means oh, in the way you blink your eyes open in the mornings. Oh, I see now. Oh, that hurts. Oh, it’s bright.
Lance squeezes her hands again. “There are worse things than loving so much it hurts you,” he says softly.
“Oh,” Pidge says again. “Oh.”
305 notes · View notes
eoieopda · 1 year
Note
Can you please do a jungkook being dad or to be dad ?!?🥹🫠they’re freaking cute
aaaaaah! i love writing dad!bangtan 🥹
ft. established relationship au, unmarried jk & reader, mention of unplanned pregnancy, matching timbs.
Tumblr media
No part of your life proceeded as planned.
Somehow, everything you ended up with fell right into your lap before you could think to seek it. One of those sudden discoveries was Jungkook, your now-boyfriend, who crashed into your life four years ago in the most literal sense — on a bike, right into the side of your car.
Things escalated from first aid on the sidewalk to compensatory japchae at a nearby restaurant. When his nose stopped bleeding and your bellies were full, the conversation kept flowing until the restaurant staff begged to be able to close for the night.
You didn’t expect him to stick around for all of that, but you were glad he did.
He became a recurring character in your life after that; promoting himself to series regular in the same way your sporadic coffee dates became part of your daily routine. From the café up the block to your jointly-purchased kitchen table, he was present at your side.
Your pregnancy came about just as unexpectedly. Only a year into your relationship, you pissed on a stick to confirm a hunch. You — perhaps unfairly — expected a negative reaction to that positive result, but what you got instead was partnership. Jungkook’s presence once again communicating his promise to stay.
And shit, did he make good.
For someone who didn’t plan to become a father at twenty-three, he was as good at this as he was literally everything else. A quick study, he could change a diaper faster than you could blink.
Jungkook made it all look easy, too; not exhausting, not frustrating, just natural. He soothed Jungsoo’s crying with minimal effort — usually with a song — and he was especially adept at keeping that smushy face smiling.
Best of all, you couldn’t identify a single moment in which the work felt unequal. He was adamant that parenting was a team sport.
True to form, he turned the dreaded, late-night wake-ups into a competition against himself. He’d set new personal records in both his response time and his resolution time. He’d be back in bed, wrapping himself around you before your sleep-steeped brain fully processed his absence.
Working full-time from home meant that you got to marvel at his talents in real-time. Watching the two of them interact throughout each day, you fell more impossibly in love with both of them. With their unbridled imaginations; their special, shared language; the eerily familiar way Jungsoo buffered through his confusion.
Because of your beloved boys, your house was full of laughter — every single day. You didn’t have to miss a single second.
Sitting at your kitchen table with your laptop open in front of you, you were halfway through today’s project. Jungkook had taken over the finger-painting session so you could meet your deadline without issue. At some point, though, you noticed a quiet you weren’t used to.
It was too early for nap time, so where was the giggling? The sing-alongs that made up the soundtrack to your day?
In the laundry room down the hall, you heard the door to the garage open and shut again. It was followed by slow, careful footfalls up the wooden steps; then an odd, metallic clatter that prompted you to stand. Before you could investigate further, there they came:
Jungkook, holding a step stool and a shopping bag from the hardware store. The pair of them must have slipped out unnoticed during your conference call earlier.
Jungsoo, holding his father’s hand while keeping plastic safety goggles on his face with the other. They coordinated perfectly with the toy tool-belt wrapped around his waist, and the yellow hard hat on his head.
Both were wearing Timberlands, though the smaller pair had zippers on the sides for ease of use.
“What are you two handymen up to?” You giggled as you placed your hands on your hips. Truly, the sight of them had you swooning; it would’ve been impossible not to smile.
The twenty-six-year-old exchanged a look with his three-year-old colleague; then the former held up the shopping bag. “The playroom ceiling needs a new eyeball.”
He said it matter-of-factly as if his explanation didn’t require one of its own. Jungkook noted the way you blinked slowly back at him, then he cleared his throat with a laugh.
“Sorry — lightbulb,” he corrected himself as he gently patted the top of your son’s hard hat. It shifted slightly at the contact, but Jungkook was quick to fix it. “I’m studying up on Jungsoo-ese.”
At the mention of his name, Jungsoo’s entire face lit up. His nose scrunched as he smiled, leaving his two front teeth on full display. You lovingly tapped the tip of that crinkled nose with your index finger, “I need lessons, apparently!”
Jungkook nodded, then knelt down to consult with his partner. He whispered something that you didn’t catch, and then Jungsoo went rocketing off to the playroom with a whoop. As soon as he was gone, Jungkook stood, wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you in for a kiss that left you breathless.
“I can tutor you, baby,” he promised with a cheeky grin, “But my expertise doesn’t come cheap.”
“Oh?” You smirked, “Name your price.”
He kept his eyes fixed on you as he nodded, much more serious when he spoke again, “We can negotiate specifics after bedtime, but I think this construction crew would benefit from a little expansion.”
Leaning up onto your toes, you carded your fingers through his hair and kissed him deep. You pulled away only to murmur against his lips, “There are more eyeballs in this house than there are hands to fix them…”
1K notes · View notes
cottonlemonade · 2 months
Note
Hello,
May I please order a small cherry lemonade with extra ice for 'samu, please?
Archnemesis
word count: 1066 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.
pairing: 3rd year rival!Osamu x chubby!Reader
genre: angst, fluff, pining
warnings: swearing, mentions of insecurities, hurtful comments about your weight (but it’s quick and not done by Osamu)
____________________________________________
Tumblr media
Osamu groaned when he saw the pitiful little bus pull up and people in black training suits jump out. Trying not to be too obvious he kept throwing glances over to the fast growing group assembling in front of the blond coach. When he spotted you amongst them, easily identified since you were fuller than everyone else, he felt excited but turned away and went back into the building.
Sure, he would be the first to admit that you initially caught his eye while you were blissfully munching on an onigiri and he may or may not have wanted to ask you out so badly that he choked on his water but that was besides the point. You were from Karasuno and therefore automatically the enemy.
Last year, when he first came across the crows it was hard to explain to his captain why he seemed to have beef with a member of the women‘s team of all people but Kita had graduated and wasn‘t their captain anymore, soooo… now he could be petty to his heart‘s content. He enjoyed your little rivalry, because although you may look cute enough to eat you could really dish it out.
While he waited in the lobby for his brother to come back from the bathroom, the Karasuno teams entered and walked stoically towards the changing rooms, ignoring the whispers of admiration and awe. Apparently you decided to become even prettier since the last time he saw you. So that’s how you were gonna play it, huh? Well, fuck you.
Wait, why did they all stop next to him? Why did they stare? You were grinning, so you probably just said something scathing, right? Osamu hadn’t paid attention. Okay, there was a 50/50 chance this would work. “Oh, we‘re gonna see about that.“, he said, attempting and … and failing to return the trash talk.
You looked at him in confusion and the team captains ushered you along.
To no surprise of absolutely anyone Inarizaki won their first rounds with ease and after a victory shower Osamu decided to break your concentration by watching your last match of the day quietly from the sidelines. Menacing. Lurking. You’d get the message. Much like with the little number 10 he enjoyed people‘s reaction to seeing you play for the first time. Initially, they would wonder if someone was grievously injured that they sent „that chubby girl“ onto the field, not knowing what was coming. A grimly satisfied smile played on his lips when he heard the surprised whispers from the crowd when you served four aces in a row. Of course his (completely baseless) archnemesis was strong, what did they expect?
Atsumu and Aran appeared next to him towards the end of the game, his brother holding out a bag of snacks to him, watching with genuine disinterest as the opposing team missed a fake spike.
The next ball seemed to last forever, your receives however stayed clean and precise. But then the roaring cheers changed to a murmur. During a particularly harrowing rally you had jumped over the barricade, just managing to lop the ball back onto the field but crashed into the wall after a harsh stumble, your foot having gotten caught in a chair. You somehow made it back onto the court, receiving the next spike with one hand, giving your setter the opportunity to play to your team‘s ace - but then you didn‘t get back up.
Osamu had grabbed his brother‘s sleeve, knuckles turning white when the medic made their way to you.
He saw you being asked a few questions and then your manager pulled you up, slowly leading you towards the exit.
“Figures that the fatty got injured. Can‘t stop a charging rhino.“
“I‘m just impressed she didn‘t take anyone else down with her.“
Osamu‘s head snapped around to see three guys snickering. His shoulders began to shake with anger. No one - no one - was allowed to talk about you like this. Aran followed his gaze, equally disgusted by the comments, and muttered, “Ugh. We‘re playin’ these jerks tomorrow.“
The older twin‘s eyes went blank - murderous. Good, Osamu thought, together they would make these bastards regret ever choosing this sport.
Osamu turned on his heel and jogged out into the corridor, looking around. He turned pale when he found you leaning against a wall, breathing hard, and a small trickle of blood coming from just beyond your hairline.
Your team‘s manager quickly said something, then ran off, probably to get some help.
As if in trance Osamu walked over to you and without a word knelt down with his back towards you.
“What are you doing?“, you asked in a small voice.
“Get on.“, he said tonelessly, and when you didn‘t move, added, “Come on, the floor is gettin‘ uncomfortable.“
Your answer was barely above a whisper. “No, it‘s fine. Honoka will be back in a second with the doctor. And… and I don‘t want you to get hurt, too.“
Osamu let out a huff, turning his head, “Are ya calling me weak?“
“No, I‘m calling me heavy.“, you mumbled.
“Stop it!“ He hadn‘t meant to shout, he looked to the ground, “Just… shut up and get on.“
Glad you understood that he wasn‘t going to stop pushing, he heard you hobble a step forward and carefully leaned on him.
“Put yer arms around my shoulders, go on.“, Osamu encouraged quietly, his voice much gentler now. You seemed to hesitate again. “Don‘t worry, y/n-san. You won‘t hurt me.“
He froze when he felt something wet seeping through the back of his shirt and realized that you were crying, “I… I can‘t lift my left arm.“ So that‘s why you only received the last ball one handed…
Thinking quickly he pressed out, “Alright, just hold on tight with yer right, then. I‘ll make sure ya won‘t fall.“
Bonus: The next day
Two sharp whistle blows signalled the end of the game and the crowd erupted into cheers. The Inarizaki orchestra began playing their well practised victory song and Osamu used his shoulder to wipe the sweat from his brow.
“Wh-what-what happened?“, he heard a guy from the other team stammer.
The foxes had won in two sets, the score telling the story of complete and utter humiliation. The twins grinned.
With a shaking finger, the opposing libero pointed towards Osamu, “This guy is a beast.“
____________________________________________
a/n: this was such a juicy prompt! Ugh! I’m sorry it got a bit away from me and I ended up adding fluff and mixed in some taking care of you, too. I hope you like it nonetheless, though 🫠
125 notes · View notes
ddarker-dreams · 1 year
Note
Ehe, for Scara (brainrot is reaching new heights): “So much snark today. Would a hug shut that mouth of yours up? Or better yet… a kiss?”
"... Reprobate."
Scaramouche glaring at you isn’t a new development. You’d say it’s his default manner of expression; if resting bitch face was on performance-enhancing drugs. You take the archaic insult with ease. It’s not the worst thing he’s called you. Lately, you’ve theorized he must’ve taken to studying offensive language for the sole purpose of flinging verbal venom your way. 
Well, if anything, he should be grateful that you’ve motivated him to expand his vocabulary. You’d say you’re welcome if you didn’t value your well-being. However, today just so happens to be a day where your well-being feels marginally worth defending. 
“I’m not hearing a no.” 
He scoffs, his gaze momentarily leaving your form to appraise the surrounding area. Any unfortunate Fatui goon squad souls that happened to overhear this conversation could expect to be court-martialed... or worse. Seeing how his eye will not stop twitching (how uncomfortable is that?), you’re placing your bets on worse. 
“Have you no sense of shame? Forget it, why am I even bothering to ask when I already know the answer,” he runs his hand through his bangs and sighs. Uh oh. You sense a monologue looming on the horizon. “You can’t expect me to acquiesce to your every annoying whim so easily. If I did, there’d be no end in sight. That boundless imagination of yours is such a pain to deal with. Really, the fact I put up with you at all is—” 
The softness of your lips pressing against his cheek serves to put a premature end to his soliloquy.
Stunned by your boldness, twitching fingers come to rest over where your lips made contact with his now flushed skin, disbelief written all over his face. Considering how powerless you normally are, this shift in authority is a welcome one. Enough so that you don’t mind pushing your bruised pride down if it means watching him unravel like this. 
“You—” he points at you for further emphasis, as if you need help identifying who he might possibly be talking to, “You... ahem... missed.” 
“Huh?” 
Scaramouche is grinning now, ear to ear, his face still red yet his ego too formidable for him to concede so easily. 
“My lips. I demand a proper kiss if you’re going to stick to your conniving ways. Come now, try again. Prove to me that there’s something in this world you can do right.” 
(He looks very proud of himself).
“I mean, I would, but, someone recently told me trading affection for favors is shameless behavior. And, y’know, he might just have a point. I’ll have to seriously reconsider my ways.” 
(He no longer looks very proud of himself). 
"... You couldn’t bother me more if you tried.” 
At this, you smile. “Is that a challenge I hear?” 
1K notes · View notes