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#please I really really need someone to write something about them it’s hurting me
Note
Thank youuu, maayybbee a comforting headcanons about your choice of Creepypasta with a reader who is like uh like really really tired in all sort of ways that they won’t cooperate in anything, mind being so nice to give them a whole slideshow of their messed up childhood and
Y’know just a really fucked out reader
Sorry if it’s y’know too much or anything, you can do it whenever you want!
-🐰
I love writing comfort scenarios <33
Credits to divider goes to saradika-graphics! Go follow them and support their works
Thank you so much for requesting!!
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Ticci Toby
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He understands that sometimes, everything is too much and your brain just kind of shuts down
But he is also a very anxious person
So when he sees you laying in bed, the exact same position you were in when he left in the morning, he gets a little concerned
Have you moved at all? Have you eaten? Drank anything? Taken a shower?
But he respects your privacy and doesn't ask you about it, assuming maybe you just wanted a lazy day to yourself
So he brings his dinner up to you that night, sharing just in case this is in fact the first you've eaten all day
And when you continue this behavior the next day, he begins to panic
The other creeps know something's up too, or at least, E.J does, because once Toby gets home E.J approaches him about it
"Hey, I asked y/n to clean the equipment they used in the gym last time and they just said no. They also seemed pretty lethargic, barely moving or breathing at all. Nothing to worry about right now, but it is concerning."
And with that, he walks off, seemingly not even wanting an answer, just wanting to give Toby a heads up
So once again, Toby goes to your room once again, seeing that you still haven't moved
"You haven't moved." He says
"Mhm" you respond absently, scrolling on your phone
"Have you eaten today?" He asks, beginning to get nervous
"Mhm" you respond once more, though it's not a real response it's just one to make him happy
"Um. EJ said you didn't want to clean the gym equipment you used?" He fidgets with his fingers now, picking at the dry skin
"Mhm" Is the only thing you say, and the only thing you're going to say he realizes
So he comes to sit on the bed next to you, moving some of your hair out of your face (if you have any, if you don't he rubs your back) "Are you ok? You can talk to me, you know? I love you"
This seems to trigger something in you, because instantly a flood of tears happens
This startles him, but he continues to comfort you nonetheless
He pulls you up and drapes your arms over his shoulders, while his go around your body, rubbing your back and head
He doesn't talk because he doesn't want to overwhelm you, so he silently rubs you and kisses you until your sobs turn into sniffles
"Let me take care of you tomorrow?" He asks, pulling away to look into your eyes
You pull him back into the hug and nod "please"
Jeff The Killer
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Jeff doesn't really know how to deal with his own emotions, let alone someone else's
So when he sees you in a funk, he decides to just leave you alone and let you deal with it yourself, because he doesn't trust himself enough to actually help instead of hurt
But this of course, it seen as him leaving you in your time of need from your perspective
So this only makes matters worse, causing you to snap at others for small things, like when Toby accidentally bumps into you while you are on the way to get another snack
He of course, apologizes profusely, but it just isn't your day so you yell at him and tell him to be more careful next time
When Jeff gets home, Toby is talking about the incident with another creep
Not in a malicious way, but in a concerned way
This peaks Jeff's interest "What are you saying about my partner over there??"
"I'm just worried is all. They totally blew up after I accidentally bumped into them" Toby says, putting his hands up defensively
Jeff scoffs and rolls his eyes, already tired of the mood you're in
So he goes up to your room and walks in angrily saying "Why are you being such a dick? What'd Toby ever do to you?"
You don't feel like arguing, so you snuggle further into your bed
He laughs at this "Seriously? You're gonna ignore me? Listen dude, I don't know who you think you are but I really don't like this fucking color on you. Fix your attitude before I fix it for you" And with that he slams your door
Next day, you bump into each other in one of the hallways, and he tries to talk to you obviously seeing you still upset, but you push past him
Or at least try to
He quickly catches you and pins you against a wall "Just listen to me, won't you?!" he yells
This is all too much for you, so you begin to cry, bowing your head so maybe he won't see it
He softens at this, loosening his grip and looking at you confusedly "Why....why are you crying?"
"Why are you being so mean to me??" You ask as you sob
He sighs and brings you into a tight hug "Ok.....Ok tell me how long you've been upset"
"A long time!" You say truthfully "It's not even about Toby!"
"Why didn't you say anything??" He asks, cradling your head against his shoulder
You grip onto his chest and try to catch your breath before talking "Because you left and I thought you didn't want to see me!" You whine in a fast, high pitched voice
Despite this, he seems to catch every word "No, baby, baby....I always wanna see you I just didn't wanna hurt you...." He whispers into your head
"But you did!" You say into his shoulder
"I know....I'm sorry" He rubs your back a bit before kissing your head
"....really?" you sniffle
"Yeah" He pulls away and lifts your head to kiss your forehead, before pulling you back into the hug
You are quiet for a while, standing in the hallway and holding each other before you finally break the silence "it did feel good to cry"
He snorts and pulls away "Well I'm glad you liked it, because now I have snot and spit all over my hoodie"
You smile and kiss his nose "You love it"
Ben Drowned
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Barely moving himself, he probably won't notice for a little bit
But when he does, he just assumes you're in a lazy mood, So he tries to snuggle up with you in bed
You flip over, avoiding his touch which makes him raise an eyebrow "Hey, you ok? It's cool if you just wanna be alone but this isn't like you"
"I'm fine" you say quickly
"....oookay.....do you want me to leave you alone?" He asks, his face changing from confused to concerned
You don't answer for a long while, but when you finally do you say "no"
"ok" he says simply, staying to his own side of the bed while he plays video games
Eventually, you begin to cry softly, and you flip back over to snuggle into his chest, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala
He looks at you for a moment before putting the game aside for a second and petting your head "I thought you said you were ok?"
You shake your head and cling harder
"Alright, c'mere" he says, pulling you up into his lap and putting your head in the crook of his neck
You try to hide your face away in his shoulder, but he grabs your chin before you get the chance "Hold still, I wanna kiss you" he says
With this, he kisses anywhere he can reach, eventually letting you drop your head back onto his shoulder while he grabs onto your arm and kisses from your shoulder all the way down to the tips of your fingers
Once he is done, he looks down at you, seeing that you are now only sniffling he uses a knuckle to wipe away any remaining tears "now are you ok?"
You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek "Good. I like seeing you happy"
He then pecks your lips and hands you another controller, so that you can play the previously discarded game together
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ewwww-what · 1 month
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I like to think that Gorgug hangs out with the seven the way Zelda hangs out with the bad kids. You know that horrible awkward feeling where you only know one person at a party? It’s like that but everyone else at the party is inseparable and they keep teasing you (in a good-natured way) with jokes you don’t understand, and all you can do is smile and nod and try so hard not to embarrass yourself in front of these people you perceive as way too cool for you.
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rosicheeks · 28 days
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Unfortunately relatable. I grew up in the church and have a lot of Christian trauma from that. I show up for special occasions for my parents… sometimes. But it’s uncomfortable from the moment I step through the door. Bigoted pastor, the self-righteousness disguising the prejudice, the political comments from the altar. Shots at young people left right and center as if the hell on earth wasn’t caused by the same older generation 90% of the congregation belongs to..
I miss being young in the choir and the youth groups and not struggling with it. It’s wild to look back at the younger version of me who was unshakeable in his faith and honestly just saddening.
I was texting my sister today about it and she said
“I 100% think ALL of us have a ton of religious trauma and everyone else in the family just doesn’t realize it cause they’re still drinking the kool-aid.”
I ran out of tag room and didn’t want to delete any 😭 seriously not lying I could write a book about all my thoughts and experiences
#I relate to all of this so much#and it’s so sad how many people truly have religious trauma#I still find myself lucky and privileged cause I know there are stories MUCH worse than mine#it’s really hard cause my parents still think I’m a Christian#honestly at this point I have no clue what i am#even if I end up still being a Christian that doesn’t help or heal all of the years of church trauma#but the hard part is still acting the part for my parents#growing up I always tried to fit into the good Christian girl mold#cause I know that’s what my parents wanted and I didn’t want to disappoint them#but once I started smoking weed and they found out? it went all downhill from there#their perfect angel fell from heaven#and I feel like ever since I haven’t been really their daughter…. I’ve just been living on the outside looking in to everything#it hurts looking back at all the years I spent brainwashed into believing that was the ONLY faith#it genuinely makes me sick to my stomach thinking about the fact that I went to a pro life rally#the thing I was talking to my sister about was how mental health was never talked about in the church#when I started dealing with it and went to my parents or the pastors or any adult really and told them what I was dealing with#wanna know what the first thing they would ALWAYS say? well have you prayed about it? the way they treated mental illness was that it was#YOUR fault cause God is punishing you for something…. that you need to pray or go to church so then God will eventually take it away#and the thing is I don’t necessarily blame my parents (which kinda sucks cause I want to blame someone)#but honestly it’s just the environment they grew up in too… like I’m 99% sure my dad has dealt with depression his entire life#but won’t get diagnosed or anything cause they always believe faith has something to do with it#which makes me incredibly sad cause I just think about how much my dad has suffered and how he didn’t need to#^^ I was typing this out when I was late to my family gathering hahaha but then I think my sister called or something so I had to stop#sorry this post is all over the place - I swear I could write a book about religious trauma#yesterday went ok surprisingly but today? TODAY is going to be so much worse#sure I’ll make a post about it later but I guessssss I should go to bed now? it’s 2am and I have to get up at 5:45 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃#and I have a fuuuuull day of fun Christian festivities while I’m dealing with all of this bottled up and unresolved crap from my past#please don’t get me wrong I love my parents and like I said I don’t blame them - they did their best#it just really sucks wondering what my life would have been like if I didn’t grow up in the church or in a super religious family#I wonder if when I told my parents I was depressed if they would have instantly brought me in to get help
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nicromancytarot · 2 months
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ALL ABOUT YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE 18+ themes, lots of information!!
This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.
I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.
(This took me 3 days lmao, please like, follow and reblog)
PICK A CARD READING
I asked my spirit guides what you need to know about your future spouse, pick a pile to find out!!
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Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3
PILE 1 (TW sexual abuse)
“I need to take time for myself” “let’s take this to the next level” “i don’t want anyone else”
Their appearance
I’m seeing lighter hair, light brown to a blonde-white, I’m seeing they may have muscles, or just a nicely toned body. It also looks like their back may be very prominent to their appearance, they may work out extra to achieve really nice back muscles. They could honestly have a large top half and skinny bottom half (Miguel O’Hara for example.) I’m seeing someone quite tall, they may have an interesting shaped head, like not in a bad way, it might just appear more prominently on them. For a guy, long third leg.. (They allowed me to say this one.) Possible big ears, or maybe even wears earrings or something to highlight them. The right side of their face is the best for them lmao, they might pose showing their right side for pictures.
About them
They‘ve have been through some hardships in their life, they’ve been fucked over pretty bad in the past, and while they don’t like to dwell on it, I wanted to bring it up. It’s seeming like they may have gone through sexual assault, I’m seeing that they used to appear quite sexualised in the past, something they did themself, however, someone close to them felt valid enough to abuse their power and cause harm to your partner through their self-expression. This hurt your partner a lot, they’re still healing, I’m heading “please take your time with me” when it comes to sex, they have some extreme vulnerability about it, they need you to understand that; they’re begging me not to sexualise them, and they’re asking you nicely to do the same, give them the respect that someone thought was ok to steal from them.
Due to this mass betrayal, they appear very closed off to new love, they have a lot of people that want them, and fawn over them, but this situation has completely made them turn a blind eye to those who see them. It will take you a while to crack this person open, however once you do, it will be more than worth it.
They will be very slow to start this connection with you, but once they are sure that you can be trusted, and they feel safe around you, they will set up camp by your side, and they don’t plan on leaving.
Their career
They’re very financially successful, but I see that this took them a while, I think they began building up financial abundance due to wanting their family to be there for them, and take notice in their achievements.
In work I think they may be underestimated, appearing as the lioness, I can only be reminded of the over glamorisation of lions, and the societal irrelevancy of lionesses, even though they do more for the lion population than the lion, as a collective do for themselves. Unfortunately this being said, I see they are idolised for their body, rather than their talents (I’m getting Sidney Sweeney, and Vinnie Hacker for this, both talented people, who are only seen as pieces of meat, or some type of chew toy.) Your person is really disrespected and it’s making me so mad, man. They’re trying their hardest to break out of the stereotype, however I feel as though there are colleges of theirs that constantly sexualise them, making them feel very uncomfortable. Again, I’m getting the same message as before, they are yearning for someone to treat them like a human being, and not just a vessel of sex organs.
Their family
Mentioned prior, they do not have the best relationship with their family, I think there’s some deep-rooted and ínstense trauma from possible childhood, I see they were the type of child to get all perfect grades to try and impress, and make their parents proud, however I don’t think it worked. Their parents seem very self focused and absorbed in their own life, and business.
They assumed that becoming even more successful, making a name for themself, earning masses of money would make their family proud, but it never worked.
They may have cut their family out of their life, or they are considering it. If they don’t decide to cut their family off, it most likely comes from hope and fear, they are scared that their family won’t notice all their biggest achievements if they cut them out, and they hope that eventually they will be able to achieve something big enough so their family is proud of them. They blame themself a lot for “not being enough” and not making them proud.
How they are in bed
I was not able to get much for this, but I do see that they need to really be able to trust you fully before getting into bed with you, they need a lot of time and reassurance, they really need you to understand their fears. The first time you guys have sex, you may unintentionally bring up some hidden wounds, they’re telling me to tell you not to worry, they’ll look into your eyes and it’ll be gone. They may need eye contact the first time, they need that constant reminder that it’s you, and that you won’t hurt them.
They gave me a few explicit messages, so for that I got
“Cum on your face”
“Make a sex tape” (I feel like they would burn this onto a hard drive and keep it in a place only they know about, only showing you if you asked them to.)
“Food play”
When I got these messages, I had a fan on so I needed to put the papers under something so they didn’t fly away, I unknowingly put them under the chariot card, so I’m really getting again that you will need to work for this. The chariot was also the only sexual illustration I got.
Another thing is that they don’t want you telling your friends about your guys sex lives, they don’t want more people to sexualise them.
They also may finish very fast the first time, this could be out of sensation since I don’t think they would’ve had sex for a very long time by the time you guys meet and start dating.
Their love language
Acts of service, they enjoy doing things for the people that they care about, unfortunately it seems this has stemmed from their neglecting childhood, they feel as though they must do something for someone to feel loved. They do not quite understand that love is not a give to receive, you may have to be the one to teach them this. Your future spouse only believe people will love them if they do something for that person in return.
Quality time, they like to be with the people they care about, i’m seeing two people sat in silence on some arm chairs, one person is resting their head on their arm while scrolling aimlessly on their phone, meanwhile the other is reading a book, holding it with one hand as the other plays with the hand belonging to their counterpart, their fingers tracing the skin of their lover’s hand gently, fingers only just intertwining.
Their shadows
Your future spouse does not see their own self worth, they do not value themself as a person, or even a creator, whatever they do in life, they are a very creative and diverse person, yet they don’t feel that way. It’s as if they suffer from imposter syndrome, they never feel worthy of their achievements, because no one ever made them feel as though their success mattered.
They can be very closed off with their feelings, they become resentful towards their emotions and just wish they could rip the feelings from their body. They may say things they don’t mean in the moment, mostly because they don’t feel worthy of your love, but as soon as they realise what they have done, they will bring you to their chest and hug you tightly.
This reaction will never escalate further than a shout of anger.
I sense they might refuse therapy, you may have a lot of arguments about this, they try to tell themself that they do not need therapy, but this is mainly because they fear they will be laughed at, for coming to this person with trauma that even they struggle to understand, even after having gone through it. I would encourage you to try your best to get them to go to therapy, maybe even both of you together so you can get to know each other on a more intimate level.
Please be gentle with them my pile 1, they are truly a blessing of a soul.
PILE 2
“I’m not ready” “you���re too good for me” “let’s take this to the next level” (you may have been attracted to pile 1, if so maybe go check it out.)
Their appearance
Lighter hair, for a select few of you, it’s black. I think they might have longer hair, and like to wear it up, or they enjoy covering their head with a hat or other accessories. I’m getting medium height, maybe even shorter than you, or possibly only a little taller than you. I think they enjoy dressing more provocative, perhaps having shirt buttons undone, or just not wearing a shirt at all, they really like their body, and they know they have a good one. If they have abs, I would say they are there but quite faint, not toned, just enough to show. Their hair could be curly, or it’s just the first thing you notice when you meet them. I’m getting pirate vibes, they might dress up more like a pirate honestly, buttoned down blouses, a bandana on their head, their hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. The area of their nose, lips, philtrum, and chin is very prominent, a main focal point on their face. Their eyes make them look tired and drunk, the classic sleepy eyes. They may wear a lot of jewellery, specifically gold. Their skin seems more into the tanner tones for the dark haired individuals, they may be part of the latino/a community. For the people with lighter hair, I see they could be based around Europe.
About them
I hate fuelling delusions like this, but multiple cards are pointing to this person being an ex, it seems like they had your heart at one point and came back for more, after having messed up the first time. They do seem very remorseful for their previous mistakes, they want you to know that they were naive and selfish, they didn’t know how to treasure something as important, and valuable as your love, however they want you to know that they are ready now. I see they could have cheated on you in the past, left you for another person, or just been toxic with you, and just treated you badly. Please take in mind that I do not want you to get back with any super shitty ex, you have free will so don’t do that, however I do think this person has changed for the better. With the chariot, and hanged man, I’m seeing they worked on themself to be able to be good for you, it may have taken them a few years.
For those of you who’s future spouse is not an ex, I would say that the first time you guys met, there was a sense of competition and it turned you completely off from them, or they just came across rude, and arrogant while trying to impress you, and you just weren’t feeling it. They’re coming back around to show you how serious they actually are about making this relationship with you work. They will need some time, one sided enemies to lovers lmao.
Their career
I feel as though they have a good amount of material wealth, they seem to have everything they could desire, they could be a little bit of a workaholic, which possibly can cause some drama between you, you will need to remind them of how important spending time together is, they will listen, they are always willing to compromise with you.
Their job is one filled with a lot of competition, I’m honestly getting technology, they could work with technology, they could be under a tech company position, or maybe they even work from home doing their own thing on their computer.
They can appear secretive when it comes to their job, they’re not trying to keep it a secret, or hidden from you, they simply just don’t really think to talk about it that much. Lowkey, they could be a moderator for some type of famous streamer, (lmao??) or they could work in a position where they help people with managing publicity, like an agent or something.
This job does seem interesting, but it does come across a little like they do it more so for the money, than for an actual enjoyment that they find. Some of them do enjoy their job, but I don’t think they would stick with it, if it didn’t offer them the money and exposure that it does.
Their family
I honestly feel like it was their family’s influence that got them to start working on themself, I get the sense that their mother was possibly the one to force them into therapy, she may have even sat through his first session lol.
I think he’s mainly closest to the woman in his family, I’m getting a close friendship with their 1-2 sisters, possibly older, rather than younger. Im getting that they see them a little puppy that needs training, if you guys get into an argument, and they go to their sisters, the oldest one would be quick to correct your future spouse on their mistakes, and convince them to talk to you again and apologise for whatever they did.
Their family love you, if it’s a second chance scenario, they are so happy that you guys get another chance at loving each other, they truly want you to stay part of their family.
I’m seeing a young girl, possibly around the age of 5-6, you will be very close to her, I’m feeling it’s a niece or cousin, who is constantly around when you visit the rest of the family.
How they are in bed
They honestly appear quite vanilla, all bark no bite to be honest, they will say the flirtiest things to you, and they appear quite sexual, but once you get into the bedroom, they become all shy and reserved, there is a potential for you to bring them out of their shell however.
I’m seeing that sex for them is more-so about their own pleasure, they can seem a bit selfish during sex because of this, they may also see it as a way to compete with others, I’m hearing “I have them in a way that no one else ever will,” they may deal with a little bit of jealousy when it comes to your relationship, they are you as a very desired person, so they worry that someone will steal you away from them, being intimate with you is like proof to them that you are there’s and no one else could have you in such a compromising position.
They may finish really fast, I’m seeing someone who is struggling to keep their attraction in, the way your eyes penetrate into theirs will have them a stuttering mess, unexpectedly pushing them to their climax, though I feel like you will be nowhere near your own. You may need to help them with how to pleasure you, so you also reach your destination!
They could be a virgin, they don’t seem very experienced, they may have even waited for marriage, so this could be the night of your wedding.
They’re on top, it makes them feel more masculine and in charge of the situation, I also think they need to be able to pick their own pace to make sure they don’t overwhelm themself the first time.
They will be bursting with anticipation every time you initiate something with them.
They may have a desire to watch you touch yourself, they know about the important places of pleasure for people of your gender, however they don’t know exactly how to treat those places, so they may ask you to touch yourself to show them, this could lead to an intense session of mutual masterbation, for the select few of you, this will come before your wedding, they’ll ask you about how they should pleasure you on your wedding night, and you will show them, they will get into the mood as well and join you in the bed, this will almost make them cave in and take you there and then.
“Pull my hair”
“You make me so hard/wet”
“Let me taste”
Their open to whatever you’re into, just give them time to adjust to the new sensations of sex first, before you spring any random kinks onto them.
Their love language
Physical touch, they enjoy being around you and putting their hands on you at any chance they get, they like to hold your hand, to wrap their arms around your waist, they just like how you feel under their touch, if they feel like they’re working too much, they will invite you to sit with them, possibly on their lap so they can have you with them.
They like their bare skin to touch yours, I don’t think they sleep with much on, maybe shirtless with a pair of underwear, they will press their front of your back, making sure their bare chest hits your bare back, and back of shoulders.
Gift giving, they like to buy you things, I think it’s in a way of trying to make up for how they treated you in the past, they use their money to prove to you how serious they are about you and their relationship with you, they’re very possessive of their material wealth, so sharing it with you is something massive, and unexpected. If you see something in the store window, they’ll notice you even as much as glanced at it, and they will make sure it belongs to you in no time.
Their shadows
Their can appear a little selfish at times, I think they’ve had to protect and defend themself all their life, so now they feel as though shutting people out and not letting them in is the best answer to cure and keep away any upcoming insecurities.
Your future spouse needs to lose things to understand how much they actually mean to them, they don’t appreciate things enough until it’s taking away from them, luckily for them, they tend to work hard enough to manage to get this back, ensuring that it will never be taken away again.
Their downplay their transformations, they don’t exaggerate, but honestly the complete opposite, they feel as though their past and their future and two completely different identities, they need constant reminders that their success is still their success, no matter how long ago it was.
PILE 3
“I don’t want anyone else” “do you feel the same?” “you’re the only one I want in my life” (again, you could’ve also been attracted to pile 1, I wouldn’t recommend going back up however, I think it may have been the warning that caught your eye rather than the pile itself!)
Their appearance
I’m getting chestnut brown, to black hair, for a woman, it’s casts down her back, quite long. For a man, It’s around medium length, maybe just above their shoulders. Their back is very prominent in this pile, I feel like they have nicely defined back muscles, however I do not think they are an incredibly muscular person. They could honestly dress more punk/emo, wearing black leather jackets which are decorated, and bedazzled with silver spikes, I do see a possibility for a more alternative style for men, feminine outifts for women, types of styles that accentuates their hips and bust.
They might like going outside a lot, they’d be the type to suggest a camping trip, so they wear clothes that are suitable, and durable for being outside for extended periods of time. Big black boots is another thing I’m getting, their hair could also be spiked up for a select few of you. (I’m honestly picking up Johnnie Gilbert similarities for this pile, maybe Johnnie’s future wife is watching, and they just don’t know, that’s crazy.)
About them
They know better than to overwork themself, they may be the type that needs to mentally recharge after being around people for too long, they also seem to take in a lot of energy when around people, they’re like a little portable charger, however this does mean that they get burnt out very quickly. Luckily, they are not one to ignore the signals of their body and mind, so if they need to rest and be alone for a little, they will do that, this can however make them appear a tad aloof.
I don’t think they’re the best at expressing their emotions, they keep them hidden for a reason, I believe out of fear of judgment, or getting hurt again. I’m seeing someone who may have been cheated on by an ex partner, I don’t imagine they got closure on whatever this situation was, if it wasn’t cheating, it was some type of intense betrayal. They may appear a bit condescending at times, this is their way of trying to push you away before you find out about their feelings, they weirdly think you will leave them or condemn them for showing any natural, human emotion.
Their hardworking in all areas of their life, mainly self improvement, they want to become the best version of themself, so their partner can be comfortable with them. I do see that they will have a dramatic change of circumstance, or just who they are as a person, around the time that they meet you, which would be done for you, or for some of you, they will improve themself right before you guys meet, this change in their life will bring you to them.
Their career
They have a job where their workload and work time is flexible, they have the ability to not work one day, and pick up the work the next day if they so please. This is good because it means they will be making sure they always have time for you, to make you feel appreciated.
Their job is focused around nurturing responsibility, they are a leader of their area, but not a leader overall, they may have some type of job where they have to be a role model for people of a younger age, mild fame or influencing is showing strongly (bro which one of you are Johnnie’s wife, this is getting too specific.)
The job brings in a lot of material abundance, I don’t see they have to worry about too much, other than understanding that their work can be overwhelming, and that they need to pace themself, allowing themself to take breaks is super important with this pile.
It’s a job that offers them long term stability, and more money with the higher their position gets, if this person is mildly famous, or some type of influencer, the more fame and fans they gain, the more money they will be raking in, however they do need to remember where their loyalties lie, and always make sure to appreciate the fandom that gave them what they have now.
Their family
Their family are so different from them lmao, like polar opposites, I’m seeing the sweetest mother who always makes baked goods, sometimes they can appear a little interesting, but taste good nonetheless. Their father calls them by a nickname which your future spouse hates, their father is really sweet, I’m getting someone a little more laidback, who would rub your partners hair to mess it up for absolutely no reason.
You will feel very welcome into this family, they do not discriminate since their son/daughter/child has gone through some intense stuff in their life, and they are just thankful that you are able to bring them security, and safety, your person could’ve struggled badly with mental health, and it may have worried their family, so their parents are super happy that you’re able to keep them happy. However, please remember that someone’s mental health is not your responsibility solely.
How they are in bed
I don’t think they would’ve had sex for a while before you guys got together, I think they may have done some type of sexual cleanse, they were possibly a fuck boy/girl in the past, so they quit it to help themself improve and be the best version of themself.
They may need a little while to really get ready to be intimate with you, it might come as a conversation that the two of you share, explaining that you would like to have sex with them, and them setting a date for it so nothing can go wrong. I see them prepping by shaving their entire body lmao, they’re going all out, if it’s a man, they’re going to get so many cuts in all the wrong places, and they will definitely complain about it to you. They do expect you to be as prepared as they are, so get yourself ready, find yourself a nice, new perfume and get to it.
I do not think they will have sex with you outside of the relationship, I feel as though they have so many sexual requests from people, it makes them feel only valuable for their body, they don’t want to be seen as just a warm body that you get to lay under, the first time you are intimate with them. You have to prove yourself before sex, and even then, it may take a while. I’m getting around eight to ten months after dating, they really don’t want to be fooled and used for their body, especially after their sexual cleanse.
They like to be on top, they may honestly end up sweating and shivering at the end of it, like that one scene from Titanic when Jack is shaking in the carriage while laying on top of Rose with a blanket.
The sex will get progressively more rough and interesting over time, but the first time is just pure love making.
“Look into my eyes”
“Fuck you silly”
“Tie you up”
I’m getting that they will need aftercare more than you will, while both of you will be giving it to each other, they are a lot more in need of it, I feel like you would be fine to just go into the kitchen and make yourself something to eat, meanwhile they desire to be in your arms for the next couple of hours.
Their love language
Physical touch, they need to be at least holding your hand at all times, they would lowkey like to wear a lipstick stain you created on their cheek or jaw, they like people to know that you are theirs, and they are yours. They may also really like when you give them hickeys, they will absolutely allow those to be on show for everyone to see, they are too proud to hide them. They like to hold your stomach? Perhaps it’s when you sleep, they like to rest their hand on your stomach, or perhaps they want to get you pregnant, they may be very serious about having kids sometime in the future.
Words of affirmation, they really appreciate when you tell them how good they look, or how the outfit they’re wearing is amazing on their body. They specifically enjoy your compliments, you have a way with explaining things, that makes it seem so much more authentic and honest, they trust your judgment a lot. I do see they have a tendency to feel very insecure, and although so many people tell them how beautiful they are, your future spouse struggles to believe them, thinking it’s some kind of sick joke, but they know you would never joke or make fun of them about that. You’ll be very surprised to find out about their insecurities, you may even think they’re playing with you the first time they mention it, this could make them feel invalidated, so be careful how you tackle this!
Their shadows
They constantly ignore their problems, they have an “out of sight, out of mind” way of thinking, which is just barbaric because it means they don’t sort through their issues and instead push them out of the way. You may need to help them with healing from some past trauma, and realising that they are allowed to feel hurt and anger from those past situations, as they were not at all ideal.
Your future spouse is quick to push people away when they feel as though they’ve said too much, and opened up more than they desired to, due to this, there may be a few times when you feel helpless, and they seem helpless, this is something you can work through together.
They get very defensive, very quickly, if you say something that unintentionally triggers them, they will shut off, going into some type of hermit mode until they feel ready to talk about whatever it is that bothered them.
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undiscovered-horizon · 5 months
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Hi! I really enjoy your one piece writings, they have given me so much comfort when I don't feel okay 😭
Can I please get a Mihawk (I'm completely in love w this man aah) imagine where his wife is a sensitive person who gets sad when someone is rude to them but they feel insecure couse they think it's stupid
Thank youuuuuu ❤️🥺
First of all, I'm honoured that I can provide a source of comfort to you. I'm glad my work has made you feel better in your time of need.
Second of all: oh yessss bestie this hits the spot. It also reminds me of a wonderful scene in The Gentlemen (10/10, highly recommend) [it also hits close to home because I am a sensitive person]
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The thing about strong people is that they make others want to be just as strong, which isn't always easy if even possible. You've always known you're a little 'softer' than most people but only after marrying Mihawk did you find the difference in temperament bothersome. Instead of considering your sensitivity a fact of nature, you've begun to find it a flaw, something that you should change about yourself.
You've never admitted it to yourself but the truth is plain and simple - you think it's embarrassing. That Mihawk will find your sensitivity embarrassing. Maybe if you had been up-front about it with your husband, you'd learn that he adores your soft heart. If he felt forthcoming enough, perhaps you'd even hear that you're the source of warmth and light in his life. Hence he calls you his 'sun'.
To say that Mihawk grew concerned when he heard your muffled sobs would be like not saying anything. A delicious euphemism at best. Anger and fear bubble inside his chest. There's a strange itch in his hands that eggs him to wreak havoc.
"Apple of my eye," his voice carries well through the rather empty room you're both staying at currently. "What is the meaning of this?"
Frantically wiping away your tears, you look over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Mihawk is leaning against the doorframe, blocking the entrance if you so wish to run away from this situation.
"Oh, it's nothing. Really, I'm alright. No need to worry," you half-heartedly attempt to reassure him.
The swordsman loudly exhales through his nose. He's your husband, worrying about you is his duty. In slow steps, Mihawk walks over to the edge of the bed where you're sitting. Pride and titles as if forgotten, he drops on one knee in front of you. One of his hands gently squeezes your knee.
Unsure what's the best way to go about these circumstances, you timidly meet his intense gaze. The passion in his yellow eyes makes you think of a maelstrom captured in a jar - something devastating held back by a miracle. He's already seething, just doesn't yet know who exactly to direct his violence at.
"Indulge me," he prompts you to confide in him. There's a rare sense of pleading in his tone.
So indulge him you do - you tell Mihawk all about the unpleasant encounter with a local tearaway. Your husband tries his best to control his expression as you recount the unambiguously offensive words, unwanted touches and threats of real violence coming from someone who was probably looking for a cowardly scapegoat to vent his anger. As you continue your story, tears just keep rolling down your cheeks, fear and humiliation finally finding their way out of your heart.
"I know I'm being stupid," you mumble as you clumsily wipe your face, "he was just rude and it's not like he actually hurt me but-"
Mihawk's touch makes you cut your sentence short. His hand, its skin rough and calloused, gently cups the side of your face. Your hot, salty tears disperse as his thumb slowly rubs them away. Something about the tenderness of his touch, of hands that have killed and maimed, is enough to make you feel like you're about to break in his arms. Even if you do, you know that when dawn breaks you will be whole again, put back together with the unending love Mihawk holds for you.
"You've always been too good, my sun," he tells you in a low voice. He could have said 'too soft' or 'too sensitive' but then his remark would come off as deceitful as it would suggest his dislike towards your nature. Nothing of that sort - Mihawk genuinely thinks you're a better person than most people walking this plane. And he'd rather succumb to torture than let anyone make you feel bad about that.
The man leans in and places his warm lips against your forehead. Without much effort, he lays you down on the bed and you let him. Even if you wanted to fight back, you're way too tired to do so.
He's sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing your face, neck, arms and back as he's waiting for you to fall asleep. The anticipation doesn't require much patience - Mihawk's tender touches lull you to peaceful slumber rather swiftly. When he's sure that you're asleep, he kisses your forehead again before cautiously leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.
Perhaps he can't turn back the time and make the offending man choke on his words but he can ensure that the tearway won't hurt you ever again. Someone resting in peace so you can rest peacefully is a good bargain.
Mihawk knows exactly who he's looking for. He made a note of a certain characteristic trait you had mentioned - an earring with a single, red-coloured feather. It doesn't seem like a piece of jewellery that would be common anywhere.
It doesn't take much to find the tearaway. He makes his presence well-known as he stumbles out of a tavern, his legs almost giving away with each step.
So he assaults random women minding their business and then gets blackout drunk. It's pathetic enough to consider his death merciful.
Staying true to his name, the swordsman stalks his prey before lunging. Appearing as another patron of the inn, Mihawk follows the stranger around the corner towards barns, stables and pigstys. Fitting place for the likes of him, Dracule thinks to himself.
The man with the curious earring staggers his way towards a drinking trough. He's fumbling with his pants, desperately trying to pull them down to relieve himself but his fingers are not dextrious enough.
Mihawk picks up the pitchfork leaning against the barn wall. In one, swift motion he gores the tool through the back of the man's knee. A guttural scream tears through the night as he falls to the ground.
The swordsman grabs a fistful of the tearaway's hair. He forces the kneeling man to look up into his seething, yellow eyes.
"Do I owe you money?" The man is slurring his words. He squints his eyes, trying to focus his hazy vision on Mihawk and, possibly, recognize his creditor. "It's money, isn't it? Shit, just give me two days, man. I'll give it back with interest."
"I don't care about money."
Instantaneously, panic appears in the tearaway's eyes. Did he just find himself in the same position he's put hundreds of people in to cure his own boredom and need for grandiosity?
"Then what it is?!" he shouts, fear settling in his viscera. Dracule's calmness put together with the sheer hatred emanating from him makes for a deeply unsettling impression.
"You hurt my wife," comes the answer. The fist clenching the man's hair tightens its hold further, threatening to tear off his scalp. "My wife," Mihawk growls.
But before the tearaway can ask for clarification, his head is forced into the drinking trough. Surprised and scared, oxygen is escaping him fast. Soon, his throat and chest begin to clench and throb painfully. Dark spots dance across his vision, foreboding blindness.
Then, Mihawk pulls his head just above the surface. The man desperately gasps for air.
"If you believe in a god," the swordsman begins in a low voice shaking with anger and adrenaline, "I suggest you start praying. Fast."
The tearaway's head is forced underwater again but this time, Mihawk keeps it there until the ruffian's body stops trembling and shaking. After that, Dracule waits for a while longer - just for good measure.
You're woken up by the creaking of doors as they slowly open. Blinking sleep away from your eyes, you look over your shoulder only to experience a sort of deja vu: Mihawk is standing in the doorway. Before you can ask about his strange behaviour, your husband makes his way to you in long, quick strides. He kneels on the floor beside the bed.
Mihawk takes your hand in his. He takes something out of his pocket and places it in your palm. You recognize the red feather earring immediately. And is that... a piece of skin still attached to it? Gently, your husband closes your fist and lifts your hand to place a chaste kiss on your knuckles.
"The rat has paid for its sins," he whispers to you. Judging by the intense look in his eyes, you don't want to know the details of this story.
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ineffable-romantics · 9 months
Text
Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:
This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:
First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)
These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.
I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.
This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.
Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.
This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.
If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.
With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.
Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can
Food
Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).
This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.
Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.
(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)
Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.
The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.
And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.
It's What Humans Do
In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).
He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).
What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.
But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.
Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?
Angels, Demons, & Asexuality
Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.
Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)
And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).
The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.
I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.
Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.
Except...
Brielzebub
We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.
For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.
And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).
Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.
Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.
Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction
But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?
And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.
At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).
So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?
I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.
After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)
Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.
However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".
Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.
I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.
But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.
(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)
More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.
Aziraphale's Hedonism
Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.
It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.
Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.
Dancing
I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.
I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.
We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.
(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)
As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.
Love Languages
I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.
We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.
You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.
The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).
And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.
So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.
So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.
"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"
Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.
First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")
(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)
More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.
Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.
The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).
Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.
Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.
The Birds & The Bees
Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.
Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.
Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.
The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma
The Kiss. Where to even begin?
This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.
Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.
It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.
Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.
Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.
So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.
I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.
What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.
All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.
(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)
Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).
Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.
In Conclusion
I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.
So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.
You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.
But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.
___________________________________
Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post
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lost-inthe-v0id · 2 months
Text
Someone PLEASE needs to do this
Like something about zuko and fire bending reader being engaged. Like she’s a royal and they’re being “forced to get married” but they actually fall in love. They support each other through everything and they’re literally stuck at the hip. They sneak out to see each other and whenever they have to go to formal events they can’t wait to see each other and they goof around all night. She knows all of his secrets and how he feels about his father and mother.
Reader somewhat gets along with Azula. Reader doesn’t like the way she treats zuko sometimes but she acknowledges she is only a product of the adults around her so she has a soft spot for her.
Then when zuko get exiled he’s so caught up on getting his fathers approval. He promises to her he’ll be back before she knows it. He knows how hard it is for her in the palace. She tries to go with him just as his ship is leaving, pleading with him one last time; insisting she can be of help. He declines her kinda harsh but she understands and bids him farewell. She walks away but remembers she has to give him something. A token of good luck. When she runs back to give it to him she over hears Zuko talking to someone telling them he didn’t want reader to come because she’d be baggage, a burden, dead weight. Reader is hurt and goes back to her room in the palace and cries her sorrows away. She really thought he thought more of her, he always complimented her when she firebent, she was taught by the best and he still thought of her as deadweight?
In Reality Zuko only said that because he knew he wasn’t going to come back for a while, he knew it would inevitably she would fall for someone else during the time he was away. What if he came back with his hopes up only to find her in the arms of someone else, someone who was there for her, who would care and love her then and there. He wasn’t good for her. And the faster he convinced himself he could move on, the less he would cling to her when he inevitably saw her again.
Time passes by and reader comes to the conclusion from the help of overthinking, that he never loved her. It was all a facade to win the approval of his father. If he really cared for her , he would know how awful it was in the palace without him. He abandoned her. And for what to find some kid?
She joins azula. She’s really good at fire bending and she hates to see azula practically destroy herself and the people around her for some approval. So she decided if no one will properly take care of her, she will. Over time Reader has disconnected her feelings from the actions she takes under Azula. Her only concern right now is Azula. She realizes Azula at her core is a wounded little girl and she takes care of her as her own.
IDK when or where reader and zuko reconnects or see glimpses of each other again but when he sees how she cares for Azula he melts away. You’re so scary to people around you but soft and nurturing towards his sister. He wants that. He needs it. At one point when you challenge him to fight due to anger from maybe hurting Azula in some type of way or jealousy due to his kindness towards katara. When you firebent in the past you made sure your flames wouldn’t hurt him but now they’re coming at him full force and he doesn’t know what to do.
@ me if u do plz give credit 👉👈🥺 I can’t write like that
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eustasskidagenda · 7 months
Note
hello!! ^^ this is my first time requesting, so hopefully i'm doing this correctly :;
can I request a trafalgar law/reader hurt to comfort oneshot, where the two of them get into a really big argument or fight and reader decides to leave him alone for a long time, so THAT eventually leads to some problems between the two and Law has to make things right??
(basically reader gives law the silent treatment, and law is too prideful to admit his wrongs)
thank you in advance!!! I've really enjoyed reading your kid works, so i'd be happy to see more of your writing :)
☆Trafalgar Law x Reader giving him the silent treatment after an argument 
Hello dear anon, don't worry, you did it perfectly and thank you so much for your request. I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope it will match your expectation. Enjoy our dear emo boy!
CW : g/n reader, hurt&comfort, Law is bad at express how he feels, let me know if I forgot something
WC : around 2,000 words, whoops, I love Law way too much, I got carried away
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Law is not a man of many words. That's the less you can tell. Always quiet about his plans, sometimes, you still struggle to understand what's going on in this beautiful mind. Usually, you just deal with it, supporting him as much as you can. But today, it's too much to handle. He is perpetually busy all day and night, and sometimes the bed is cold, and you know he didn't sleep with you. It hurts. You just have the feeling to carry on with this relationship alone. 
"We need to talk, Law." Busy with probably another shenanigan you don't know about, he totally ignores you and continues to read his newspaper. Again. Heavy-hearted, you close your eyes and clench your firsts. You can't step back and always try to round the corners. "Law", you insist. He finally drops the newspaper. "What, y/n-ya?" He asks, annoyed by the interruption. 
"Honestly, lately… I feel totally sidelined. You're always focused on your plans I don't nothing about, or busy with your patients. And it hurts" Law looks surprised by your words. Usually, you're more the one trying to smooth the things and trying to be super-comprehensive, because you do love Law, and you know he had been through a lot. Supporting him is the least you can do. But what about you? Your emotions? 
"I've not neglected you, y/n-ya. I'm just busy." Yes. That's the whole point. "You're always busy. If you don't need me anymore, just say it," you snarls, anger slowly heating your chest and burning your cheeks. Communication is maybe the key, but it's a struggle to communicate with someone as reserved as Law. The worst? You know he loves you. He's just… an aloof. Always distrustful. "Answer me," your voice is shaky from both anger and distress. " I have things to do, y/n-ya. Don't act like a child. I still feel the same way about you, and you know. " 
Maybe it's true, but you don't believe him anymore. You don't even remember the last time you kissed that sweet lips on him. And the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, when you redraw the lines of his tattoos, cuddling with him in bed. How can you feel the absence of someone you see every day? "I miss you," you confess. "But I'm right here. With you. I need to get those things done, so please be patient." Why can't he understand? With that unreadable face, he's still sitting on his chair. What's going on his mind? "What things, then?" He sighs. "I can't tell." 
No. It's enough. Now, you're mad. "Stop pushing me away! I miss you. Do you realize the absurdity of missing someone I can see every day? It's been four days since we last slept together! This morning, you didn't kiss me! You're always taking me for granted and I feel like I'm transparent!" At last, you manage to get a response from him. He removes his hat, runs his hand through his hair, and his eyes darken as your anger is about to explode. "Can you not be patient? I need to… finish what I'm working on. "
No.
Not this time.
He has already stated that too many times before. Before Dressrosa. Before Wano. You already waited way too long. Even for someone as patient as you, it's too much. " I'm tired," you confess, the voice which with emotions. "It can't keep going like this. Why am I always the second choice for you?"
Maybe it's because you always give everything you have to him. Supporting him, regardless of what. You had to break his armor several times to get closer to him, despite his distant and detached personality. The moment he finally confessed about his past was beautiful. The nights you spend together, simply talking about your lives, goals, and dreams, are rooted in your heart. A warm memory of two souls bonding and finding comfort through words and confession. Now, everything is just fading away. And you hate how angry and confused you sound, when Law is just as calm as always. Does he even notice what you just said? You can't tell.
"You don't even answer me. Such a shame to be named heart pirates when you don't even have one." you explodes, shouting the words.
"I don’t think it's the right time to talk about this because you're too emotional y/n-ya. "
"And you're too logical!"
The saying goes that opposites attract, but you're not so certain anymore. 
"I'm just so fucking done!" Now, you're screaming and Law growls, "Shh, don't yell, everyone will hear us," he says, caring way too much about his privacy. "I don't care! Just say something! " He looks so tired, with his usual dark rings under his eyes. "Leave me or not, but do something because I'm so done with this shit. I'm the only one trying to communicate and make things right!"
You slam the door of his small office with anger and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. He doesn't follow you. He remains confined, choking on his own pride. He probably thinks you will be back soon, as always after an argument. But not this time. You're really done. It's his time to make some efforts, to prove that he actually cares about you and your relationship. 
At the diner, he doesn't show up. During the night either. It's not easy to distance yourself from him. But you will not change your mind. After three days, he finally starts to realize that you will not come after him. 
Why aren't you bringing him his morning coffee, massaging his tensed shoulders, and spreading your stupid concealer under his eyes? All those small actions you always do to lighten his burden as a captain… damn, he never felt that lonely. But what can he do now? How can he fix the mess he made?
The Polar Tang's ambiance is as cold as a winter island after a week. Everybody noticed the huge tensions between you and the Law. The captain is irritable, barking orders at everyone and looking for you everywhere, but you're just hiding from him. He's exhausted by this situation. He's starting to understand what you said: he misses you, even if you're here. 
It's becoming too much for his tortured soul after 10 straight days. The pain in his heart is unbearable. In reality, he feels like a child he never had the chance to be: terrified, lost and alone. Are you going to leave him too? Why is everyone around him always dying or disappearing? Is it always his fault? Now, he feels miserable, almost crying alone in his office. He can't even focus when Bepo asks him to bandage a small wound he just made. His hair is messy because he runs his hands through it too much. Law sighs heavily. His nerves completely fading away as he struggles to bandage Bepo. Why the hell is he crying over a poor bandage? 
He's exhausted. Physically and mentally. An he misses you. Deeply. He understands everything you said that day. He understands how you have felt lately and it's a horrible sensation. You didn't deserve the way he pushed you away from everything. He misses the warmth of your body, the passion in your sweet kisses, and your hands redrawing his chest tattoo. 
He needs to make things right. 
In this situation, what Corazon would have done? 
Probably running after you after slamming the door, falling miserably on the ground, and crying pathetically with an ugly nose running. Law frowns. But at this point, he's so desperate that he wouldn't mind crawling and begging for your forgiveness. He stumbles out of his office, tired, and looks for you. How can you hide on such a small ship? "Have you seen y/n?" He asks to everyone and they all they say no. Are they lying? Where have you gone? Did something happen to you? Poor Law is so stressed right now, more than usual. He spent the entire day looking for you and failed. Is it too late? Have you just left? Without a goodbye? No. It can't be. He needs to see, kiss, and hug you. Just one more time, just one last time. Even if feels that he doesn't deserve you. 
He slams the door of the bedroom you used to share with brutal force. As he takes off his hat before laying on the mattress, he sighs and an idea crosses his mind. But he's afraid. Because if his plan is not working, it will mean you have already left the Polar Tang. For good. Hands shaking, he finally moves his fingers and mutters, 'room, shambles'. Your plushie disappears as you suddenly pop on the bed. 
Oh, thank god, you didn't leave. "Y/n-ya" he whispers, his voice thick with emotions. 
Your heart is pounding as you remain silent. Ten days. Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin helped you hide from Law for ten days straight. Giving him the silent treatment was a difficult choice and all you can hope for is that it actually worked. "I'm not a man of many words," he confesses. "But I do love you. I'm sorry for always pushing you away, please forgive me. It's just that... I need to keep you out of trouble. If you don't know my current plan for now, it's safer. " For someone as quiet as him, he's talking a lot. But still not enough."I think I've taken you for granted, but I want to be there for you. Please, let me stay by your side. Don't leave me, please." He almost begs, his voice thick with emotions. 
His gentle touch on your cheek almost melts you.  You missed those beautiful, smooth hands on your face. You get closer, enjoying the warm heat heating up your chest. "You're so beautiful", he whispers. He looks so genuinely innocent, discovering again all the small details of your face. What has he done to be so fortunate in love? Does he only deserve you? You can tell that he's not even sure as he waits for your answer, trying to hide the slight shaking in his movements. 
"I love you, Law." You gently assure him by kissing the tattoos on his fingers. As the solace embraces his heart, Law is melting inside.
He didn't lose you. It's not too late. "I know you're not good at words, so I won't ask for much. What you just said is already perfect. Thank you for confessing to me. I know it's hard for you to open up." you reassure him. "What should I do, y/n-ya? How can I show you that I care about you? I won't repeat this situation twice." His eyes are now shining with pure determination. "Just the small things you used to do before. Sleeping with me, giving me a hello and a goodnight kiss... you remember that? Our routines." Law nods, probably taking mental note. "I have to kiss you twenty times." You raise an eyebrow confusedly. "Why?" 
He shrugs. "It's been ten days since I last saw you. And I'm supposed to kiss you all mornings and evenings." He's so serious right now, you can't help but burst out laughing. He's not joking at all. God, you love this nerd so much. The confusion on his face is even more hilarious. " I love you," you sigh between two laughs. "Why are you laughing? Am I wrong?" That man is so smart, cold and logical, but with love… he's just a mess. A beautiful mess. The one you will always love and cherish. "You're so adorable."
And now, he's blushing. How dare you call him adorable? "Just come here," he sighs, grabs your hips, and sits you on his laps. His lips are sealed to yours, and he kisses you. Twenty times. And he's counting. Every kiss is filled with passion, love, unspoken emotions, and sweet promises. 
And, as always when you're together in the same bed, you end up redrawing the tattoos on his chest. As you gently caress his skin, he falls asleep, the tension finally leaving his face. You cradle your head against his chest. His heart is slowly beating, and he looks so calm right now. 
You are here with him, and his tortured mind can finally get some sleep.
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luveline · 3 months
Note
Hi !!! Can I request something romantic between shy reader and spence? maybe he’s like trying to teacher her something and they’re alone? IDK WRITE WHATEVER U WANNA RIGHT ILL EAT IT UP REGARDLESS <3
Your stomach hurts and you need to pee, but you’re stuck. You’ve been trying to submit your virtual paperwork for the last two hours. Why have they made it this difficult? You’re beginning to wonder if you’re being hazed. 
Spencer told you it was easy. Well, he’d put a cup of tea on your desk (for which you hadn’t asked but gratefully accepted), seen you were starting your paperwork, and said, “I’ll see you for lunch in half an hour?” with a knowing smile. 
You’d smiled back. You want to be in the know with him, even if you’d needed a ten minute recovery period after he left to learn to breathe through your nose again. 
But it became clear after half an hour you wouldn’t be taking lunch, let alone joining him. Nervous sweat dampens your hands and the back of your shirt, and your face burns with heat —why is the office scorching? You’re in hell. 
You click another button, sure you’ve found the right process, but a yellow triangle appears with an exclamation mark inside. Function suppressed, it says.   
“Oh, good,” Spencer says, approaching from behind, a coffee. “I thought you stood me up. You’re struggling with the system?” 
“I wouldn’t say struggling.” 
“You don’t need any help, then?” 
“Please,” you say softly, worried someone else will hear you. You don’t want anyone in the team nor the unit to realise how inept you are. It’s bad enough that Spencer’s cottoned on. “I can’t get it to work.”
“I was kidding,” he says, smiling tentatively at you. “Let me get my chair.” 
Spencer tortures you sitting beside you, knee to knee and arm over your arm as he guides your mouse to the right page, then the correct paperclip. His watch falls down his wrist and brushes your skin with each direction, spurring chills all over. “You’re pretty much done,” he says. 
“I don’t know why I was so confused,” you say bashfully. 
“Because it’s a confusing system.” He smells like warm vanilla. You wish you could ask him about it, but you’ve a job to talk this close to him. 
“Thank you for helping.” 
He clicks through the last part of your file to check for any missing paperclips before he sends it off. “You’re welcome.” Then, because he secretly hates you, he takes your arm into his hand with achingly careful fingers. “Are you cold?” He rubs at your goosebumps. He has really nice hands, with strong veins. He moves purposefully. 
Another rush of goosebumps down your arm. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyebrows tugged together worriedly. 
“I’m just,” —mortified— “embarrassed about the paperwork. I didn’t know there would be this many online responsibilities involved, I would’ve looked them up.”
Spencer’s eyebrows rise as your sentence ends. You’d mangled ‘looked them up’, said it breathless as his hand curled around your fingers. 
“Don’t worry about all of that. You can always ask me for help. Right? I sit right there.” He points to his desk. “Did you forget?”
Something about his tone suggests that he already knows you didn’t forget, but he takes your thank you gracefully, and continues pretending you’re cold rather than physically affected by his touch. He’s nice like that. 
“Here, in case you’re still cold,” he says, too casual, draping his suit jacket over your shoulders.
Not that nice. 
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yandere-kokeshi · 7 months
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Saw an idea from @frogchiro and decided to write some feral content. Send her some love ❤
TW: yandere, monster fucking, werewolves, some crack/funny thoughts, talks about pregnancy/having pups (still gender-neutral), and knotting stuff.
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Imagine TF-141 being yandere werewolf hybrids, falling for you all at once, each sharing their own yandere traits; which, causes all of them to be wherever you are. The need to scent you. Need you to be beside them at all times. And soon bring you home as theirs.
And now, you're their mate, sharing is needed — pack mates practically share everything, no?
Out of the four, Soap and Gaz are the absolute worst — they're feral, energized through the roof, and has to follow you around constantly; nudging into your crotch as they need to smell you. Smell your addictive scent that makes them all types of crazy, causing them to start nipping at your poor skin, growling at each other as the need for breeding comes along.
They both love to yap and bark at you, gently grasping your hand to guide you back to your bed (aka nest) so they can cuddle you (or stuff you full of their knot, their fluffy fur likely suffocating you.)
Though, you are often saved by Simon, and Price, whom are the biggest. They growl at them to watch it and gently bite their ears on scolding, snarling at them of needing to be more careful, and to not hurt you. You're their perfect mate!
Of course, Soap and Gaz make it up with sloppy kisses. And how can you not forgive them? Their obvious doggy eyes working perfectly.
Simon and Price are more so on the chiller side. Watching from afar, and demand cuddles that end up with their heads laying on your lap, the thumping of their tails on the chewed-up couch shows their appreciation when you finally decide to pay them attention.
But don't think they don't get possessive – because they do. More often or not, the hickeys and knots come from them. Though, they're regularly the nicest, rarely one to hurt you, and more aware of their size.
But, their breeding cycles are the fucking worse. Soap and Gaz are naturally horny, biting at your form as their tongue hangs out, but Simon and Price are a menace when in heat. Being more vocal, possessive, and often nipping at your ankles to not stray too far.
Regularly dragging you by the scruff of your clothes where the two of you can mate, spending their heat in peace. Making sure that you can see Price flexing his burly muscles, wanting you to admire their wagging fluffy tails, and showing off how thick, glossy Simon's fur is, and how both of them. All of them, really, can provide you with pleasant things, including a healthy litter of pups.
Despite them being pack mates, all of them are fighting on a regular basis — they all want to be the first one to breed, knot, and have you carry their pups.
When in their full werewolf forms, soap is more prone to chasing butterflies, and bringing you back half-alive birds, barking at you for his proud hunt – his mouth and chest covered in deepening blood.
Though, Gaz, and Price, actually bring actual gifts that are thoughtful — plopping full landscape roses in front of you, the roots still connected to the plant as their tail wag violently as they wait for your praise.
Simon, on the other hand, brings actual food. Like… steals a whole ass barbecued-chicken from someone's backyard, and nudges it closer to you as it's still warm.
Stares at you to eat it, his hazel eyes demanding for you to take it, but immediately snaps at Johnny, who only cackles back. He tries so hard to steal the items every time Simon gifts you something (he just wants a bite out of your food — sharing means caring!).
Everywhere on your body is marked by them, the harsh-but-yet healed maw-marked implanted into your skin. Their marks are typically licked, and kissed on by them.
Bring me some more ideas, please!! I fucking love these men who are feral for you — especially as werewolves 🤭
Here's my mw2 masterlist for more things <3
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anastasiabowe · 18 days
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𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙃 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉 — As a broke college student, it’s not wrong to want a rich husband! That doesn’t mean you’re a gold digger, or will stoop so low you will ruin your worth, it just means you want a man who will take care of you, and guess what? You found him.
note: this will be a 3 part series! First one I’ve ever made and may be my last! So please not too much on these writings! Luv you!
𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄𝙄
Content Warnings: Language..? Nothing other than that!
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Nanami stared at his reflection.
“Nanami, get it together. It’s just a date, you’ve done them plenty of times.”
Nanami repeated that to himself and each time he got more nervous. His hands were now sticky with sweat, and his stomach began to hurt from the nerves. Nanami has never been this nervous, not even for business meetings that can determine his companies status or funds.
Nanami’s phone chimed a little song as his alarm went off. It was 5:15 and he needed to leave for his date.
He went to his sink and washed the sweat from his hands. He grabbed his car keys and headed to his garage.
Once he got in his car and started driving, he didn’t want to do this date anymore. What if you found him ugly? I mean the photos he chose weren’t the best, but what if you were expecting younger, or handsomer?!
He pulled into Hermès’ parking lot, and he went to park in a spot as close to the restaurant in case of a quick exit he may have to make.
He sat in his car as the clock ticked. It was only 5:25, and his reservation wouldn’t be ready for another five minutes. He took a deep breath, and made his way into the luxurious restaurant. He signed in, and the Server brought him to his table. Nanami thanked him as the server said he would be right back and Nanami nodded. Just as he sat down his phone chimed and he picked it up.
He saw a message from Haibara.
H: “Hey dude, just wanted to wish you luck. Remember, don’t think too much and act like you. It’s not as complicated as you think! Alright, I gotta go, tell me all about the date after it, or tomorrow!
N: Thank you, I really appreciate it Haibara. I will tell you all about it tomorrow!
Nanami smiled, Haibara was too good for him. His phone chimed again and a message from you appeared on his screen.
Y: “Hey Kento! I might be running late, I missed my bus, so it might take me a few minutes! (Hopefully it’s not a deal breaker😅)
Nanami laughed to himself while also internally punching himself. Why didn’t he offer you a ride!? Oh he’s such an idiot! While Nanami cursed himself for mistakes he didn’t even make, the waiter looked at him in slight discomfort.
“Sir?” Nanami jerked his head towards the young man, startled by his sudden appearance.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Nanami kindly apologized.
“Oh, it’s not problem, at all! I was just wondering if you were waiting for someone, if not, are you ready to order drinks?” The young man so kindly asked the clueless Nanami the 4th time about what his plans were at the restaurant.
“Yes, I am waiting for someone, you can come back in five minutes, sorry for the troubles.” Nanami felt like an absolute clown. He is recognizable. He bets the waiter felt bad for him, thinking he was stood up, so he lingered to keep him company.
“Alright, I will be back shortly!” The young gentleman walked away, and Nanami checked his phone to see another message from you.
Y:“Hi! I’m at the front, the woman won’t let me in unless the person who made the reservation comes and gets me..”
Nanami sighed, places like these makes him hate reservations. He walks towards the front, and he couldn’t help but fucking forget how to breathe.
He saw you standing in a deep green dress. It was so flattering on your body, Nanami had to bite his lip to hold back the groan he wanted to let out.
“Hello, I am Kento Nanami. This is my date, please let her in.” Nanami’s stern voice irritatingly informed the woman. She looked up at Nanami with slight fear, she was different from the other guy who let him in, so she must be new.
You awkwardly smiled at the woman and walked towards Nanami. Nanami stepped to the side to let you walk past, and he eyed the woman up and down.
Nanami followed you and soon lead you to the table, and he pulled out your seat to help you sit down. He cringed at himself for acting so out of character for you. He never once felt or done this for a date, and so this all feels so forced.
“Thank you.” Your soft, sweet, voice quietly giggled and thanked him as you scooted your chair in with the help of Nanami.
“No problem.” He grunted. The awkward tension between you two was thick, but praise to god above, the waiter came over to the table.
“Glad to see your date arrived Mr. Nanami.” The waiter smirked towards Nanami, Nanami not finding it very funny. You looked in between them both, it just have been an inside joke.
“Can I get you both started with drinks?”
You looked at Nanami, insinuating him to order first.
“Um, What’s your finest wine?”
“That would be the Romanée-Conti, sir.”
“Then I will have that.” Nanami cleared his throat. You smirked, and looked at the waiter.
“A water would be fine, thank you.” The waiter nodded.
“I will be right back with your drinks.” Nanami and you both nodded back.
“So you don’t drink wine?”
“I’m 20.” You smiled at him.
Nanami felt a spring burst in his ear. You were 20, how could he forget!
“I’m sorry, I knew that, I do not know what’s come over me!" He scoffed at himself.
"Oh, no worries at all!" You awkwardly laughed. You hoped he wasn't too upset for forgetting your age..
"I tried a few types of wine before when I went to Europe with my family a while ago, I didn't really like any of them." You smiled, hopefully that helped ease his nerves.
Nanami chuckled, trying to erase the embarrassment he felt for acting so childish. No one would be offended if someone forgets their age..! "Am I a fucking child?! Who would get mad if I forget their age!" Nanami thought to himself.
"Wine is not for everyone. Took me a while to find my niche." Nanami smiled, making eye contact. You looked down when you caught his eyes, and tried to hide the smile that was creeping on your face.
Nanami knew that look, and felt his heart warm. "So, tell me, Y/n," he cleared his throat. "What are you majoring in?"
You looked back up, surprised at his question. "Uh, I'm majoring in business!" You smirked, seeing a sparkle appear in his eyes. You knew he loved to talk about business, hence everything in his profile was about business.
"interesting. Are you planning on starting one?"
"yes! I mean, I'm not sure what I want to do with any businesses I might create, but they're somewhere on the line of some sort of marketing." Nanami couldn't find you any more perfect. Not only are you beautiful and smart, you both share the same interests!
"Wow, I mean, if you need any help starting a business, you can always ask me. I've helped over 300 people start a business and 98% of them were successful." Your heart beated at the thought of having your own business and maybe a partner to help you through it all.
"really? I couldn't ask you to do that."
"I would love to, my favorite thing is to help others succeed. That's the whole point of my company."
You softly smiled, honestly completely out of words.
"Just let me know. But, let's put that aside, I'm curious, why were you truly on Richify?"
You laughed, you knew he would ask, I mean it was a very valid question.
"I could ask the same for you, but to tell you the truth, I want a rich husband." You were utterly amazed by how honest you were being. You barely know Kento and here you are telling him your selfish desires.
He lifted both of his eyebrows in shock, but had a playful smirk dancing on his face.
"Oh, is that so?"
"I don't like dating around. For the few guys I've been with, after maybe the second date, they just weren't the one so I limited who I met with and who I talked to." You scratched your head, hoping he agreed.
Nanami thought about his words carefully.
"Exactly that. I don't get how people can just hop from person to person, I can't stand the thought of it." Nanami chuckled, you chuckling with him.
"yeah, but you seem like someone worth my time." This time those words actually came out of your mouth on their own. You slapped your hand over your mouth. Nanami chuckled, amused by your slight embarrassment.
"is that so?" Nanami puting more emphasis on 'that'.
"I don't know why I said that.." you shyly giggle. He only eyed you down, making you more nervous.
"don't worry, I think you're worth my time also." Nanami winked, you smiled, and started to ease up. The waiter came back with the wine and water.
"Here you..go." he carefully set the wine glasses down, alongside a pitcher of water and a bottle of wine.
"would you like me to pour you your wine, or would you prefer to have the bottle?"
"I'll take the bottle, thank you."
"alright, are you both ready to order?"
You and Nanami gave him your respective orders, and the rest of the night went really well!
As the night went on, you found out truly why nanami was on that app and what his true desires were. The desires of wanting his own family, a family that didn't worry about money, a family that loved each other. You couldn't help but think about how a man with such power and influence would want such a normal life. But, you also smiled thinking about how much you both wanted the same thing.
You both also talked about how it was for a girl so young to not find any guys, and a guy so old to not find any girls and how funny it was that you both met.
You both also started to talk about things more deeper, more personal. You both talked about the failed relationships and the dates you went on, what your likes and dislikes were, turn ons and turn offs, what you both found weird or normal, or even your favorite type of animal. Everything either of you said did nothing more than to help the person you were sitting across fall more deeply in love with you.
Nanami admired every single aspect of you. He adored how wide your smile would get just from his jokes and stories alone, how beautiful your hands were, which were littered with rings, as they smoothed down your dress, he admired how clean and beautiful you looked, no matter how much you covered your face with your hands, he found you beautiful. No matter how much you nervously hugged your body, he found you even more beautiful. You were simply too beautiful for him to handle.
And ever since that night, dinners turned into breakfast, and breakfasts turned into brunches, and brunchs turned into amusement parks, and amusement parks turned into sleep overs, and sleep overs turned into moving in.
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"Nanami," you sighed as he pulled you softly onto his lap, legs spreading as he held your hips tightly. "You know I couldn't do that to you, my apartment is fine!"
He looked up at you, eyes soft as a knowingly smile danced on his face. He's asked you quite a few times to just move in with him, you've always been hesitant to the idea, not sure if that's what your ready for. You've never moved in with a boyfriend, let alone someone like Nanami.
"I know baby, but it would be so beneficial for us both. I mean, we can carpool to work since you took that internship at my job, we don't have to worry about meeting up when we are always together, I mean, hell, you wouldn't have to worry about rent." He softly said, as you continued to have your worries.
His house was so empty without you there all the time. I mean, he barely has anything in that mansion, and whenever you come over, you always shiver from how cold it was, except when you get to snuggle under the warm pink blankets you brought to his house to give it a little color instead of the plain white, black, and gray color scheme.
"Yeah, but that's a big step. I mean I have a lot of stuff and 2 pets!" You looked into his eyes as you emphasized your point.
"I love Milo and Princess." He simply said.
"I have a lot of clothes" He smirked as I said that as if that was a laughable point.
"I have a few walk in closets"
"I mean, God knows if my landlord will let me move out, I don't really know the terms and conditions of my lease."
"we'll figure it out." His voice never wavered nor changed in tone as he softly reassured you.
You didn't have any other points than that, I mean, what if it doesn't... You know..
"Wait, but what if-"
"Y/n please, I'm not trying to pressure you, but I think you moving in would be for the best. It gets so lonely when I don't have you next to me every waking moment. I need you here with me, I need you to help fill this empty house with things you love, we love." Nanami chuckled thinking about how the house would be a completely new home with your charm added to it. It would have a warmer and homier feel to it.
His hands began to softly rub up your sides and to your back. His would softly glide over your skin, making you melt into his touch. You nodded and relaxed as his words of how much he wanted, no needed you here made you feel. You did want to live with him. You wanted to wake up and breathe his fresh smell, listen to his deep soothing voice hum any song, and feel him everywhere you go.
You wanted to say 'Yes nanami! I will move in with you!' but an underlying feeling of doubt still clouded your mind. You had to say something.
"Nanami, I want to live with you, I really do! But.." his hands stopped moving, and slowly settled back onto my hips.
"But? Is something wrong?" His face now wasn't as soft and playful, now more tense and worried.
"No, but.." I sighed, trying to look away from him. He softly grabbed my chin with his hand making me face him again, eyes staring up directly into yours.
"Tell me, I promise you, no problem can't be fixed."
"I'm sorry, I really didn't want to think this way, but.. What if we, you know, break up? I mean I can't afford to move out, and my family lives far and that would really su-"
"y/n." He stopped me before my head started spiraling. He knew how you thought. He knew how much you overthink simple things, and don't always see things positively.
He took a deep breath, unsure as to why you were thinking you both might separate.. were you..
Unhappy?
"Please tell me you aren't unhappy in our relationship." Nanami's eyes left your as he was now just searching your face for a confirmation.
"no! No of course not, I'm very happy, why would you think that?" Now it was your turn to grab his chin and make him face you.
"well, I mean, you're having doubts about us taking our relationship to the next level, and your scaring me with the thought you don't see us ending up in a happy successful relationship." His voice was so raw, so clear, he was genuinely nervous about how you truly felt.
You felt extremely terrible for even thinking so negatively. You knew your boyfriend hated when you thought negatively, always taking those thoughts as something you're actually feeling. And in this case, he was assuming you weren't happy in your relationship.
Nanami's eyebrows were extremely furrowed as he tried to process and read your facial expressions again for now, a sign of any lies in what you said.
Your face softened as you placed both of your hands on the sides of his face. Your thumbs came to his brows as you softly stroked them to help them go back to his they were as you spoke to him.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I promise I didn't mean to insinuate that. It's just, I've never moved in with a boyfriend of mine, and I usually like to prepare for the worst." Your voice was quiet as you felt his eyebrows' tension slowly release and his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. Nanami laid his cheek on your chest, and let out a huge breath in relief.
"Just.." nanami chuckled. "Just let me know what you decide on. I'm not going anywhere, so take as much time as you need." You smiled, and stroked his hair. You just hummed in response, and you both continued to peacefully dwell in each other's arms.
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netherfeildren · 21 days
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How to Endure Ardor:
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Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.
Rating: Explicit 18+
Content Warnings: Post outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; I'm saying this, but the setting is sort of ambiguous anyways, Stream of consciousness, Character Study, Alternating POVs; PIV sex; The troubles and toils of breaking up and then making up with a fucked up old man; Uncaring Joel; Mentions of painful sex; Toxic relationships or situationships or whatever you want to call it; I think I'm addicted to the idea of a Joel who'll never love you and I should probably see a doctor about it
A/N: she remembers how to write, who'd of thought!
Word Count: 1.3K
Read on AO3
This is a lesson:
“Tell me again,” she says, and it’s a begging.
A begging like what? Something that carries shame and smallness in the shape of it. Stay a little longer. It humiliates him for the wretchedness it pulls from him. Joel, please. Seeping blood the color of her supplication. Please, she says, please. And who else says please to him anymore? Who asks him for anything anymore but her? The only ones who ever had are long past and gone, and he can’t even barely remember they were ever really there to ask anything of him to begin with—can’t remember what it feels like to owe someone something and want to give it to them in a way that will actually make him. 
Tell me what again? That I want you? That I’ll stay? That I love you? I’ll come back, he says instead, the only thing he can promise and keep. And he wonders if it humiliates her too, the way he lies, the way he runs, the way he swears, the way he always comes back and comes back but never returns with the things she needs. A humiliation just like it is a begging. 
The thing they have: it’s strange, fickle, honest in its lies, very, very ugly. An ugliness that is shocking in a world gone to rot already. The sky doesn’t shine anymore and they bask in it. 
But also, and, the thing they have: it’s physical, saving.
This is obvious too, even if only to them.
He slides inside and you’re what? Hot and wet and slick, and—yes, a thing like a dream, but still only a thing. Something to have, something close to desire, but not quite, more like biological want. Woman turned possession. In his mind this is an excuse, a reason, a begetting. Like, what—like what? Like when you want a thing very badly but it is very bad for you, and you need to make up any excuse to have it, lie and lie and lie—to your mother, your best friend, the mirror—a begetting like that. Easy to understand only if you’ve been there. 
It started simple, it started like nothing, it started like the first time you meet someone and you know they’ll matter, you know they’ll mean something. So it started like what? Like a lie. 
Shifts at the QZ, long and toiling and reminders of the sort of life that died in an outbreak of monsters, only if for how unlike that past it was. Humans or fungus or—
—men who hurt—you, men who refuse your love, Joel Miller.
The crutch of your age, of you being weaker or smaller or in need, him being easily felled, wooed, easily conquered by something young and given without a try because there was never the opportunity for trying before. 
Now, it is like this: you take my cock and you take my come and you take my nothing, and I give so little and yet you still find a way to take and take and take, leech of a girl, dream of a girl, hungry. And with the excuse that it’s only in a way you contrive for your own self. But in the end, what does that make you? What do I make you into? 
These are the things he asks himself. 
Perhaps she goes away for a time, tries the route of escape, of variety. But when she inevitably comes back because addiction is riddled always in the same sorts of ways: did you try different bodies? Did you try different flavors and sounds? Did you look for me in all of them? 
The answer is usually yes.
At reunion’s turn: he rolls her over to face her, Joel, damp and panting and trying to be something—perhaps better, more honest—after a season of variety and honest attempts and shut eyes. He’s so hard for her, always is. 
Again: he slides inside and you’re what? His, undeniably. Not yours. Something to want but not desire because it’s too romantic a notion, and yes, there’s a difference even if he can’t put into words what that difference specifically is. Body and heart, perhaps, definitions that differ between disparate anatomical parts or levels of deniability. 
Nothing either of you have ever been able to put into words when lust and love aren’t things you can even say out loud for the shame of them, even if they exist within said same anatomy. 
You come together, the season passed, the separation passed but still kept at hand for the next time the closeness becomes too much. 
“Tell me again,” she says, and this time he remembers what she’s asking for.
“I fucking missed you, baby. Missed this pussy.” Because he can’t say it’s her heart he missed. Because Joel Miller does not have honesty in his arsenal. 
He spreads you wide, knee to shoulder so it hurts and pulls, so it’ll be sore and reminding tomorrow. The slap of his pelvis against the back of your thighs is obscene, wet and lewd, a string of girl cum keeping you connected, such togetherness, curve of your ass to the root of his cock—the two of you are together again. 
You know what I thought, when I tried to go away, you say. He doesn’t want to know, but he doesn't tell you so either, only slides in again, the mouth of your womb right there, threatening. I’m never going to feel like this again, and I hate how certainly I know that. He wonders if the unsaid part is that he’s the recipient of that feeling, the hate. 
He wonders if the pinch inside him is hurt. He wonders if the throb is love. 
All he says because he can’t say the rest is, I missed you, I missed you, and if he could look himself in the mirror—something that’s twenty years past lost—he’d ask: are you alright? Just tell me you’re okay. And it sounds in your own voice and with your own care and the feel of your own warmth. Is there anything I can do?
Other times, he sees himself through your own eyes, and then he knows for certain that the throb is love 
So he makes up for lost time, hard—and if it was a thing he knew how to be— loving. Mouth to cunt first, primed and soft and begging, making you come again and then another once more, then inside of you. Slow, splitting you open, red cunt like a wound, balls slapping wet, pulling out to watch the gape of the space he’s carved for himself. His cock is so hard and missing you something desperate. And he’s reminded of what it is to really miss something in a way he hadn’t been in twenty years of apocalypse, he’s forced to realized that it’s been so long since he’d had something to love that he’d not realized the feeling of missing that long past someone had gone away, only faint memory remained. 
Violent, is what this makes him after that realization—thrusts turning hard and punishing. How dare you give yourself to me? How dare you then take yourself away? You come around him again, the gift of your orgasm. How dare you not be able to accept the little I’m able to give when I’m trying so desperately fucking hard to give you even just this? 
He fucks you mean, he fucks you in the way of a man who doesnt know how to say the things he needs to say, in a way that’s confusing, that could make a less discerning woman feel only the hurt. 
But then again, you know him.
Fucks you in a way that is a little bit like love.
And so, amidst all of it, there is an honesty amongst the lies. A truth unspoken that they both know—I’ll come back because I need you, because you’re the only one who can give me the things I'm not strong enough to ask for out loud. 
You’re not sure which of the two of you is the one saying it.
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beesspacedotorg · 3 months
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Handle With Care
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Summary: You've had a truly awful day, luckily, your adoring boyfriend Minho is there to make it better. 2.5k words
Warnings: there's sex, but honestly it feels like someone accidentally got porn in my fluff so do with that what you will. reader is as gender neutral as physically possible. reader is also lowkey a crybaby, sorry but actually I'm not
Notes: Hello adoring public. It turns out, I can write fanfiction, and with the encouragement of Juno and Ems, I can also post it! There is a cat in this, she was inspired by a cat my family used to have and a cat my family currently has. They're both calico which I think explains everything you need to know about them.
There’s a lot you can say about the day you had today, and most of them start with sh- and end in -itty. You’re thinking on this as you dive head first onto the rough material of your couch, great for sitting, bad for face planting. You hear a scratching by your head and absentmindedly bat your cat away from the arm of the couch, mumbling something about how she has a perfectly good cat tree two feet away before resuming your completely justified sulking.
“Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come home. How was your day?” There’s a voice above you and you can picture him in your mind's eye, leaning against the back of the couch as he stares at your limp form, probably eyeing the shoes you didn’t take off by the door. You mumble something half hearted in response and he huffs before the sound of walking hits your ears and all the breath leaves your body at once. He’s sitting on you. This motherfucker is sitting on you.
“Get off, Minho” You had to tilt your head to the side, it’s hard enough to breathe through couch fabric as is, much less when there’s a full grown man sitting on your back.
“You should answer people when they try to talk to you, jagiya.”
“You shouldn’t sit on people while they’re laying down, yeobo.” Your voice is a lot more acidic than his was and a twinge of guilt settles on you before it dissipates as he shifts and manages to place more weight on your back.
“Hmm. I guess we’re both doing things that we shouldn’t then. How tragic.” His voice is deadpan, and you still can’t see him from where your head is turned- your view is limited to the back of the couch and his arm in your periphery- but you can feel the dead stare he’s aiming at your skull. There’s a silence for a few moments while you engage in a war of attrition, neither of you willing to give up just yet, but it’s getting genuinely hard to breathe and your back is starting to hurt.
“It sucked, please get off.” He does, patting your back consolingly.
“See? Was that so hard?” He guides your head to his lap as you both sit back down, petting over your hair like he would his cats. “Tell me, what’s got my baby in such a tizzy?”
You grumble at him, rolling over to shove your face into his stomach, tired and petulant. He sighs softly, but keeps patting your head, so you know he’s mostly just doing it for show.
“That kind of day, hmm, jagi?” And you nod again. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from a normal day, it’s just that the right things managed to go very wrong and subsequently ruined your day in a way that has pressure forming behind your eyes and your voice cracking stupidly every time you try to talk.
You both sit for a while before he puts something on the TV and gently shoves your head off his lap.
“Hey-”
“Do you want the dinner I worked so hard on to go cold?” He has his hands on his hips in front of you and you laugh slightly at how funny he looks. He rolls his eyes and goes, coming back with two bowls of something before he forcefully sits you up and shoves it in your hands.
“Eat.”
“Yes, chef.”
The food is delicious, it always is when Minho cooks it, he’s got a talent for it you’ve never really seen firsthand, and you consider yourself truly blessed to be able to eat it as often as he’s able to make it for you. Still, gratefulness and taste aside, your day was shitty enough that every mouthful tastes like ash and turns to rot in your stomach, leaving you with an unsettling queasiness that shouldn’t ever be attributed to your boyfriend’s cooking. You’re shoving the contents around with a spoon before he huffs- a real one this time- and takes the bowl from you, setting it on the coffee table next to his own before he mutes the TV.
“Okay. Quite clearly something is wrong. What can I do to help you?” You think he knows, but you like that he asks anyway. Minho always asks, always lets you talk and sort out whatever’s going on before he tries to help. Even if your answer is a simple shake of the head, a simple, I don’t feel like it, become a mind reader, he always asks before he helps. Sometimes you wonder how he always knows what you need, others you just decide to not look a gift horse in the mouth.
You huff and your lip wobbles pathetically and he coos, slightly condescending.
“Crying already? I haven’t even done anything.” He’s teasing, but his hands are gentle as he pulls you into his lap, his hands are gentle as they find their way under your shirt, his mouth is gentle as it kisses down the side of your face to your neck.
“‘M sorry,” you’re not the biggest fan of crying, neither is he, but for different reasons. He’s not someone who’s brought to tears easily, you are, but there’s an inherent shame in it, you think. Something so embarrassing about getting worked up enough to start crying like a baby, and so as much and as often as you feel like crying, you don’t. This he also knows, because he knows everything.
“Aish, why are you sorry for? I didn’t tell you to apologize, did I?” He taps your cheek lightly, causing you to look up at him, he plants a kiss on your nose, then your mouth.
“Sweet thing, don’t worry about anything except for what I tell you to, okay?” And you nod and he smiles.
You’re not much for talking in times like these, everything is so sensitive and soft and talking feels like a cheese grater on this cloudlike moment so you don’t and he knows, so he doesn’t chide you for it. Usually, he would. He’d crack a hand down on your ass or grab a fistful of your hair and tell you that he asked you a question so he expects an answer, but that’s not what you need right now, so he doesn’t. He just kisses your jaw again before he puts both of his warm hands under your shirt and lets his fingers poke at your chest.
He always says his hands are small, but really, you wouldn’t be able to tell, not with the way he cups your chest in his hand and lets his thumb brush over your nipple, gentle and reverent. It’s not much, not as much as he usually gives you, but it’s enough to have your mouth dropping open with a gasp and your back arching into his hand, it’s enough to have him giggling softly at your reaction.
“Sensitive today?” He’s teasing again, as soft as he is right now, he’s still Minho, he still likes to poke fun. You huff, biting at his shoulder softly in retaliation and he lets you, pinching your nipple just this side of too much in retribution before one of his hands wanders down to your ass, groping and squishing the flesh. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pushes your hips forward onto his, friction sending sparks up your spine.
“Min-” You’re desperate and he hasn’t even done anything yet, not really. A few stray touches and you already feel yourself shattering to pieces in his grasp, you’re not afraid though, and not quite ashamed. He’ll take care of you, he always does.
He does it again, guides your hips forward until you’ve gotten the hint to keep going by yourself and you’re struck with the urge to kiss him, so you do, removing your head from the home it’s made on his shoulder and making a go at his mouth. It’s messy, your coordination shot already, and you almost smash your forehead into his nose before he catches your head with a laugh.
“Easy there. Bloody noses aren’t exactly sexy.” You disagree, he could make anything sexy, but you don’t have time to voice that thought as he pushes his mouth onto yours and lovingly shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss is messy, they always are. However gentle he is, he can never seem to stop himself from kissing you until your face is covered in drool and spit, and if it were anyone else, you’d be mildly repulsed, but you like the way he looks at your mouth after it’s over, so you let it slide. 
You pull away, chest burning and heaving and look at him before you still, eyes drawn to something by his head.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” You don’t answer, gaze still drawn away from him.
“There’s a little white girl staring at me.” He turns his head to the side and laughs as he comes face to face with your cat, her green eyes boring into him. He scratches her head affectionately and lets her headbutt him before your center of gravity is shifting drastically and you’re clinging onto him for dear life.
The bedroom door shuts before you’re very aware of it and suddenly there’s a mattress under your back and a Minho over your front and his hands are up your shirt again, this time shoving it off of you until your chest is bare. You shiver slightly from the cold and then there’s a blanket being shoved around your shoulders and you smile up at him. He knows you so well, he loves you so much and your eyes are welling with tears.
“Aigoo, my little crybaby. It’s just a blanket,” there’s a kiss on each of your cheek bones, “silly thing. Save your tears for when my cock is in you, hmm?” Your breath stutters again and your hands are tugging at his shirt until he takes it off, he laughs again when your hands immediately find his chest.
“I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work.”
“They’re nice boobs.” The sentence catches him off guard, makes him laugh hard enough that he loses his balance a little and his weight settles onto you more. It’s comforting, like a weighted blanket that can talk and walk and kiss you silly.
Then, his hands are under your bottoms, tugging them off your legs and you’re suddenly wearing nothing and he’s still in his pants, which you find disgustingly unfair. You reach down and tug on the hem off his sweats, pouting and huffing until he gets the message and tugs those off too.
“You just want to get me naked,” he starts. “I can’t believe you just want me for my body.” You nod cheekily in response and he smacks your shoulder.
“Yah! See if I’m ever nice to you again!” But he’s kissing your neck again as his hands guide your legs to cross over his hips before he’s touching you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs and makes your head tip back into the pillows.
“There we go. So pretty when you’re like this, hmm? So soft and sweet for me.” His fingers are in you now, pressing insistently against that spot that makes white splash in your vision and reflexively forces your legs shut. He grunts slightly as your thighs squeeze around his hips, pressure just this side of uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything though, just keeps his pace steady inside you until you’re almost tipping over and he stops. You look at him with something akin to betrayal, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to complain he’s sliding home and you don’t have enough air to say anything anyway.
He catches it though, rolls his eyes as he sees the way your attitude was about to flare up.
“What did I tell you earlier, jagiya? Don’t worry about anything unless I tell you to worry about it. I always take care of you, don’t I?” He does, he’s good to you like that. He sounds slightly out of breath already, unusual for him, but you don’t mind because it feels like you’re seconds away from God’s doorstep yourself.
His pace is slow and deep, bass knock steady even as you squirm under him. If this were a normal situation, he’d stop, hands gripping your hips unforgivingly until you stayed still, but this isn’t a normal situation so he lets you wiggle, only huffing in mild irritation before he leans down to kiss you again.
“You’re gonna knock us off the damn bed, baby.” But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, and you feel too good to really process his words anyway. You love him, you really do, and you’re struck with the overwhelming urge to tell him, to let him know, to make him know. You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging in until he hisses and levels you with a glare, one that instantly softens when he meets your eyes.
“I love you,” it comes out of you as a sob, like it was wrenched from your vocal chords before you gave yourself permission to think it. “I love you so much.” You’re rambling now, repeating those three words over and over and Minho coos, hips faltering just slightly. He always goes weak when you tell him you love him, and you keep it in your back pocket like a weapon for the times that you’re in trouble.
“I love you, too, jagiya. ‘S that why you’re crying? Hmm? Love me so much it’s gotta spill out from your pretty eyes?” You nod in response, breath hitching from the pleasure and the tears and his hand drifts from its place on your hip to touch you again and you’re spilling liquid heat before you can really register what’s happening. You feel him inside you, too, insides suddenly molten warm but you’re floating too high for it to feel like it’s happening to you, like you’ve been temporarily ejected from your body.
When your soul settles back into your bones, Minho is laying next to you, staring at you with his wide eyes, you look over at him and smile.
“Is boba really worth it?” He looks confused at your question before you poke him on the eyelid and he laughs.
“Feel better?” You consider for a moment. Your teeth don’t feel like they’re too big for their sockets and your bones no longer feel itchy. You’re hungry, but mostly, your mind is quiet. There’s no overwhelming pressure behind your eyes and when you talk your voice cracks from sleep instead of from the force of choking back tears.
“Much. I’m hungry, though.” You give your best impression of puppy eyes at him and watch as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. You’ve been told that your pleading face looks mildly perturbing, but Minho always says you remind him of Soonie when you do it. It makes you feel slightly bad for Soonie, soon the cat isn’t going to be able to get anything off of Minho because you’ll have rendered him immune.
He comes back with your reheated bowl in one hand and your cat in the other.
“She screamed at me until I picked her up. Stood on my feet and hollered.” He winces slightly. “I should’ve put on boxers because she almost mistook my dick for a toy.”
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orinfucker · 7 months
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cravings
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summary: your desperation to learn about your past has led you to the door of the one and only enver gortash, and he is more then happy to refresh your memory.
warnings: fem!reader, durge!reader, blood, slight manipulation (gortash), suggestive, making out, finger sucking, pet names, dom!gortash
note: small drabble of durge x gortash because i am sooo normal about them! might write a part two to this but i’m not sure yet.
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you knew this was wrong; sneaking out of camp in the midst of the night to meet with a man you had no knowledge of. but, who could blame you? everything he said about your urges wasn’t wrong, only someone who experienced them first hand would have the information he possessed.
so here you are, blindly trudging your aching legs up the staircase towards enver gortash’s office. you had your doubts about the man obviously, the way karlach had described him made your blood boil with anger; how dare he hurt one of your companions so badly. you knew this was a carelessly bad decision, but you needed to know more about this ‘past life’ of yours, and gortash seemed to have answers you craved.
“second door on the right.” you whispered aloud, reminding yourself of the steel watcher’s directions to the lord’s office. once you reached the polished door of his quarters, your body froze for just a second. was this really your only option? could you live knowing nothing of who you truly were? with a shaky breath, you curled your hand into a fist and knocked onto the wood of the door.
“ah, come in please.” a heavy voice spoke, the sounds of paper rustling echoing filling your senses. you fiddled with handle before finally opening the entrance to reveal the man you’d sought out: lord enver gortash. his presence was overwhelming to say the least, he held himself with such confidence it made the depths of your body ache. “i’m shocked to see you here, my dear. have you had a change of heart since the last we spoke?” you swallowed nervously, trying to search for the words to say, but nothing came up.
“perhaps we should make ourselves comfortable, to speak plainly with one another, yes?” gortash spoke, his eyes seeming to pierce right into your mind. a simple nod was your response before descending into his office, taking a seat at one of the chairs placed in front of his desk. “i, well, wanted to speak with you about my past.” gortash glanced towards you, and then a smirk plastered itself onto his face. “of course dear, ask me anything you would like.” the sultry tone of his voice sent a jolt of arousal through your body, one that felt oddly familiar to you.
“you’ve told me of my urges, something that is deeply personal to me,” you took a breath before continuing, “but i want, no, i need to know more about us.” gortash’s face twisted into a more sinister one before an amused laugh exited his throat. “you’ve been thinking about me then, is that it?” he began, leaning back into his chair as his eyes bore into your own. you shifted in your seat before shyly nodding in response. “when i heard your voice, it held such a familiarity, yet i have no clue who you are.”
gortash stood in his chair, circling around towards you own before kneeling to match your height. “that’s because we were something much more than business partners, my dear.” your face flushed over with red, immediately understanding the intent behind his words. “that.. can’t be right. i would never sleep with the likes of you.” you spat out in denial, refusing to believe you’d stoop to that level. “yet here you are, sitting in my office, begging to know about us. it seems to me that you want to indulge in our old ways.”
one of gortash’s hands began to trail over your knee, slowly edging up towards the clothed flesh of your thigh. you peered down at him for a moment, a feeling of lust clouding over your mind as the ministrations of his hand continued. “your body craves my touch, it aches to be used by me again.” you so badly wanted to refuse him, to feel repulsed at the feeling of his touch upon you, but every part of yourself cried out towards him.
gortash observed the way your face contorted from one of disgust, to one of desire. you felt an insatiable hunger rise within you, and without thought you leaned down to capture his lips in a messy kiss. the man below you groaned at the feeling, his teeth brushing against the flesh of your mouth before biting into your bottom lip, letting pecks of blood slip through them. you felt his tongue lick away the metallic substance before finally pushing away, heavy sighs leaving the both of you.
“my love, how i’ve missed you.” gortash breathed out as he stood from his knees, letting one of his hands come down to caress the side of your cheek. his thumb brushed against the fat of your bottom lip, wiping away the blood that was left from your raunchy kiss. “open.” your body could no longer resist; it obeyed every word, every breath that left gortash’s mouth. the flesh of your lips parted as his calloused thumb entered the cavern of your mouth, pressing down on the slimy organ inside before reaching for the back of your throat.
“you always were a nasty little thing.” his words sent chills throughout your body, a gag leaving your throat as his finger sunk deeper into you. “good girl.” gortash slowly removed his finger from you, wiping the spit and saliva away on the sides of your face. you looked up at him with doe eyes, practically begging the man to do anything he wanted to you. gortash took your hand between his own, helping you raise to your feet before guiding your body to lean against the edge of his desk.
“now, we have lots of catching up to do, don’t we pet?”
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aphroditelovesu · 4 months
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Yandere Jeong Gu-Won Headcanons (General)
''I really can't stay away from you no matter how hard I try I always end up coming back to you.'' — Jeong Gu-Won.
❝ 👹 — lady l: my wips cry when they see me writing things out of nowhere, but I watched the two episodes of My Demon that were released this week and I needed to write to this man 😥 I hope you like these headcanons! ❤️❤️
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of murder, jealousy, stalking and unhealthy relationships.
❝👹pairing: yandere!jeong gu-won x gender neutral!reader.
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Jeong Gu-Won didn't understand why he was feeling this way about you, about a useless and stupid human (as he used to call you). He didn't understand these feelings, why he, a demon, was feeling this way.
He tried at all costs to deny his feelings, to keep his mind busy with other things, but he always came back to thinking about you. He couldn't get you out of his head and it drove him crazy.
Jeong Gu-Won gradually became involved in your life, in such a subtle way that neither he nor you realized how involved he already was with you. Sometimes appearing where you were and watching you, protecting you in his own way or just spying on you. Even though he will never admit it.
He didn't want to accept that he was falling in love with a human, that he cared about a human, that he cared abot you. Gu-Won had been in denial ever since he noticed his heart racing when he was close to you or how he came to care about you.
He tried to fight against these feelings, against the urge to kill when someone else got too close to you, with the burning jealousy that consumed him from the inside out, but he couldn't. He tried to stay away from you for your his good, but he always ended up coming back.
Jeong Gu-Won couldn't stay away from you, he tried but he was worried. What if something happened to you? If you ended up being robbed or murdered? You were a human, you could get hurt easily and he couldn't have that.
Basically he became your bodyguard, although he doesn't use that term. He follows you everywhere and when he can't do it, he sends someone he trusts to follow you. He's just protecting you. To say he is overprotective is an understatement. For him, because you are human, you are exposed to risks all the time and must be protected at any cost.
Gu-Won will never admit it, but he is very jealous, bordering on possessive most of the time. He will be seething with jealousy inside when you are around another person, his gaze hardening and he will use his powers against them if they bother him too much. From something harmless, like making them trip, to something really lethal.
He is very polite with you and always tries to be courteous to you, but his bad mood always ends up getting the best of him and he ends up coming off as rude. He doesn't like other people, just you so there's no reason to be polite to them. You are all that matters, in the end.
Once he lets himself accept his feelings for you, Jeong Gu-Won won't let go of it. He really cares about someone other than himself after 200 years of being a demon, he won't let something happen to you. He can't let that happen.
He likes to use his powers to please you, as a way of showing his affection, something he's never really been good at. Whether it's cleaning your house with your powers, cooking for you or taking you to incredible places at any time of the day. He might feel uncomfortable about it due to his ego, but when he sees the amazed look on your face, he knows he won't regret it.
Jeong Gu-Won doesn't know how to deal with what he feels for you in an exactly healthy way, he's a demon and he's been alone for 200 years. He just knows that he cares, that he likes and loves you in a burning and passionate way. He had never felt like this before, not even when he was human. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you, from punishing people who cross you to even murdering anyone who gets too close for his liking.
You are his, after all. And Gu-Won won't let anyone take what belongs to him. Trying to steal something from a demon never ends well.
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copper-16 · 2 months
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We Can't Figure Out What It Means
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When Elena starts asking for something with a word that doesn't make any sense, Mapi and Ingrid enlist the help of their teammates to figure it out.
(a/n: I feel like so many of my stories are so angsty that getting to just sit here and write tooth ROTTING fluff is healing me a little inside. Anyways. Please enjoy :)
Ingrid and Mapi typically brought Elena to training one day a week with them. It wasn’t hard to have the baby at the training ground when everyone there wanted to hold her and say hello, but the two Barcelona players still worried that she would get in the way if she came too often. 
Nevermind the fact that everyone's faces lit up the minute that Elena came in through the door, or that there was genuinely always someone ready to hold the little girl. All of the Barcelona girls absolutely adored Mapi and Ingrid’s daughter, and she was admittedly making the baby fever run rampant throughout the team, though nobody else had acted on that urge just yet. 
Elena had missed the last few weeks at training due to various conflicts that had kept the little girl away, so when Mapi pulled her little Barcelona jersey that she always wore to the training ground out in the morning, the baby was immediately shrieking in excitement. Because as much as the Barcelona girls loved Elena, she loved them just as much. 
They managed to get everyone dressed, fed, and out the door in a surprisingly easy fashion. Elena was a relatively simple and easygoing baby, and when she knew they were headed to the training ground she was always on her best behavior, excited about what was to come. 
Ingrid turned the radio on a low setting as Mapi drove them toward the training center, with Elena babbling away in the back happily. 
“Oh yeah? How about that!” Mapi hummed as Elena continued to talk away, none of her words really making sense but remaining insistent nonetheless. She was at the age where she was starting to say some actual words, but for the most part she was still just getting out sounds and hums without much rhyme or reason to them. 
But Mapi encouraged it anyway, having read in a baby book that it was good for development either way. Ingrid looked back at their little girl with a soft smile, reaching back to brush some of her sandy blonde curls away from her face. 
Elena giggled happily at her as they pulled into the parking lot, both women getting out as Mapi went to grab their daughter while Ingrid got their stuff. 
The Spaniard had just hauled the little girl out of her car seat before Elena was twisting in her arms, gesturing to the ground. 
“Mami, walk?” Elena asked, her voice light and hopeful. Mapi smiled as she nodded, letting her down and holding out her hand for Elena to grasp. She started to toddle forward, gripping the brunette’s hand with iron clad strength as she ventured forward on unsteady little legs. 
Ingrid had two bags over her shoulders, one for her and her wife and one for Elena, but she watched the scene in front of her with thinly veiled horror. She knew that their daughter needed to learn to walk, knew that it was important for her to practice, but it still made her nervous. She didn’t want her to get hurt, or for something to happen to her. 
“Ingrid, she needs to walk,” Mapi reminded the Norwegian softly, having looked back to see the anxiety painted across her wifes features. Ingrid softens slightly, swallowing thickly and nodding with uncertainty, as though she was trying to convince herself of the brunette’s words. 
“Right, no I know, I just…I worry that something is going to happen to her,” Ingrid admits, watching as Elena stumbles slightly, but thanks to her connection with Mapi’s hand the Spaniard can keep her upright, looking back at her fellow defender with a look that reeked of ‘I told you so.’
“She is going to be fine, princesa, I promise. Plus, she is so close to the ground, how could she possibly hurt herself that badly!” The Spaniard argued, and Ingrid’s expression soured in the face of her wifes logic, and she held her hand up grumpily. 
“You’re close to the ground,” Ingrid argued, and Mapi rolled her eyes with a smile, preparing to say something back when Elena piped up from below them. 
“Le?” She asked, her eyes big and hopeful as she looked at her mothers. Both of them frowned, looking from the baby to one another. 
“Do you know what ‘le’ is?” The Norwegian asked in a hushed tone, and Mapi could do nothing but shrug slightly, shaking her head. 
“I have no idea what ‘le’ is,” she admitted, and upon hearing the word spoken again Elena said it a little louder this time, looking even more hopeful than before. Unable to find an answer, the three of them made their way into the facility anyways. With the chaos of everything, the center back was quick to pick her baby up, ignoring Elena’s protests that she could walk. 
The little girl’s upset was forgotten the minute they made their way into the locker room, replaced with pure excitement at seeing everyone. The whole team was there, with the exception of a few of the injured players who were in the gym already, working on their rehab. 
“Jay! Jay!” Elena half cheered-half shrieked as they approached Mapi’s locker, and the baby was promptly reaching for Jana as they arrived next to her. 
“Hi Elena” The younger defender cheered, plucking the little girl from her fellow defenders arms and wrapping her in a hug. “Oh I missed you!” 
Elena giggled into the defender's chest, making herself comfortable for a moment before she poked her head up, looking around at everyone. Most of the other girls were already changed, and Mapi and Ingrid were quick to do the same as everyone flocked to Jana to greet the little girl. They had missed seeing her the last few weeks, and she was equally thrilled to see everyone again. 
The sandy blonde girl allowed for herself to be passed around to everyone, letting all of them press gentle kisses to her cheeks as she babbled and giggled with excitement. 
It was when she ended up in Mariona’s arms that she looked around, a wrinkle appearing in her brow. When she doesn’t see the answer to her concern in the locker room, Elena turns to Mariona, her little eyebrows furrowed together. 
“Le?” Elena asks again, and Mariona feels a wave of confusion settling over her as she looks toward Mapi and Ingrid. The Norwegian and Spaniard looked at their daughter and then back to each other again. 
“What’s ‘le’?” The forward asked, and Mapi shook her head once more. 
“We can’t figure out what it means!” The brunette explained earnestly, more than a little lost on the meaning of what Elena kept asking for. 
“Le? Like Leah? Or Lia?” Keira suggested, turning toward Mariona for an answer. But the forward immediately shook her head, bouncing the baby as she answered.  
“She’s never met either of those people,” Mariona pointed out, and the midfielder deflated as she realized that the Spanish woman was right. 
“Maybe she means…Frido? Le, as in like Fridolina?” Aitana suggested, and all of them looked at each other in agreement, considering that it is a good idea. “I believe she is on the pitch already, if we want to go out!” 
The rest of the team made their way out toward the pitch for practice, with Ingrid carrying Elena as they walked. The baby played with her mothers thick, long ponytail as they walked, keeping herself as entertained as possible. 
“Frido!” Ingrid called out as they came closer, and Elena perked up at the mention of her godmother. 
“Fro-fro!” Elena clapped her hands together as Frido ran over, ignoring Ingrid entirely in favor of the baby in her arms. 
“Elena!” The blonde cried as Ingrid rolled her eyes, her hands coming to rest on her hips. 
“I’m right here too, don’t you know?” Ingrid pointed out, but her Swedish friend simply shrugged, settling Elena on her hip. 
“I saw you yesterday. I haven’t seen my guddotter in weeks!” Frido exclaimed, bouncing Elena up and down as she tickled the little girl's belly. Elena doubled over in laughter, and everyone couldn’t help but look over, completely entranced with the happy little girl. 
When she had finally caught her breath, Elena looked up at Frido with an expectant expression. 
“Le?” She asked once more, and Ingrid dropped her head into her hands as everyone groaned. Frido looked around in confusion, asking what was going on. 
“We can’t figure out for the life of us what ‘le’ is!” Keira explained as understanding washed over the Swedish forward. She looked down at the little girl, who was looking around as though she was trying to find whatever ‘le’ happened to be. 
“She looks like she’s looking for something. Maybe whatever ‘le’ is, is out here?” Frido tries, and since nobody else can come up with a better answer, they decide to take that course of action. 
So while the entire team warms up, they decide that the best course of action is to just show Elena everything that they’re working with, in the hopes of getting to the bottom of what ‘le’ is. 
Patri shows her a medicine ball, and the little girl slaps her hands against it but is otherwise uninterested, allowing the midfielder to boop the top of her head before she leaves her alone. 
Esme picks her up as she and Salma walk the little girl over to a pole that is stuck into the ground. Salma shakes it slightly, while Esme points to it, trying to capture Elena’s attention. But the baby is entirely uninterested, instead reaching for Salma in lieu of engaging with the pole. The young forward is quick to make an exit, more than a little scared at the prospect of being left alone with the baby, or having to hold her. It was a running joke that Elena loved Salma, but the young forward consistently panicked whenever the little girl was around, having never really done anything with babies before in her life. 
Marta and Lucy tag team showing her first the big goal, and then the little ones they use in practice. Lucy sets her up with a ball and Marta holds both of her hands as Elena steps into the ball, trying to kick it and sending it rolling forward a coupon of centimeters into the goal. 
The English woman immediately snatches the baby up, holding her up and running around in celebration with excitement until she receives a telling off in the form of Ingrid shouting Lucy! Put my baby down!
Mapi quickly collects Elena, and with Irene’s help she shows her the foam rollers and step up blocks, but nothing appears to catch the little one’s attention. She asks each person she is with “Le?” and none of them have a good enough answer for her in her little mind. 
All of the girls have resigned themselves to the fact that they aren’t going to figure out what the baby is talking about, when they end up actually getting their answer. 
The girls have just broken from their water break, and Elena was grabbed by Keira and taken away from her blanket and toys to go hang out with the team instead. The baby was settled on the grass, patting it happily as Mapi sat with her, doing the same. Ingrid smiled down at the two of them, unable not to see the qualities of her wife inside of their daughter in times like this as they both greeted the grass together with big smiles. 
Mapi gets distracted looking back at Irene, who is asking her a question about something they’ve been doing, that she entirely misses the way that Elena’s face lights up as she gets to her feet, noticing something in the distance. 
She can’t really run yet, but that doesn’t stop Elena from taking off at a fast toddle away from the group, her shriek of joy getting everyone’s attention. 
“LE!” Elena exclaimed loudly, her feet moving fast in her quest as everyone turned to see what was going on. 
“Elena!” Alexia ran toward the little girl, ignoring the slight protest of her knee as she bent down and scooped the baby up, holding her tightly to her chest. Elena practically melted into the blonde, wrapping her arms around her godmother's neck. The captain had been in the gym all day doing rehab for her knee discomfort, but she had decided to come out on a break to say hello to Elena and everyone else. 
Everyone at the water cooler let out a collective ohhh as they all realized that Elena meant ‘le’ as in ‘Alexia.’ The Barcelona captain tilted her head to the side in confusion, still holding the little girl's body tightly to her own. 
“What is going on?” Alexia asked, not understanding what all of her teammates seemed to be talking about. 
“Elena has been asking for you all day, but all she’s been saying is ‘le,’ so none of us knew what she was talking about until you walked out here,” Mapi explained as Elena leaned back slightly, reaching up to gently poke at Alexia’s cheek. 
“Le!” She babbled, looking from the captain to her Mami with a pleased expression. Everyone around them looked at the two with wide smiles, as Elena pressed herself into Alexia with a big smile spread across her cheeks.
“Did you miss your Tia Alexia?” Mapi asks, reaching forward to poke the little girl's belly. Elena nodded as twisted away from her Mami and further into the Spanish captain, and Alexia simply turned her body away from the defender before she started jogging away. 
“Nope, nope, Elena is all mine!” Alexia yelled back at Mapi, Elena babbling away at her happily as Mapi chased after the two of them. The little girl clung tightly to the blonde, but she smiled back at the Spanish defender as she chased after the pair, calling out. 
“Hey, wait a minute! Bring back my baby!”
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