#at least i know i can fix the formatting now

[ghostoffuturespast]

All this fucking time, and I finally figured out how to get rid of the fucking paragraph breaks in between lines on a03... I'm an idiot. shift+enter

duh.

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

moral of the story from this mentorship discord: never let twitter bitches do a redditor's job

[goxjo]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ. 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝 ﾟ･｡･ﾟft. gojo, choso, sukuna, toji

♡ warnings. no reader pronouns, fem anatomy! reader, technically hate fucking, reader is initially very pissed, he is too but he wants to make up, no curse au (choso + sukuna), everything is consensual. gojo cw: some reckless driving, semi-public sex, doggy, getting caught, exhibitionism. choso cw: reader is in a bunny lingerie costume, slight! pet play, suddenly popping a boner, v! fingering. sukuna cw: petty arguments, jealousy, v! fingering. toji cw: jealousy, implied size difference, kabedon!!!, cunnilingus, wall sex. 18+ only, MDNI

♡ a/n. idk if you can already tell by now - I usually make these whenever I have new banners / formats to try out. I really love that heart bubble thingy on the title lol + idk, arguments like these feel a little endearing sometimes. this was very fun to write. enjoy!

♡ links. GEN. MASTERLIST ┆ JJK MASTERLIST

[ ❤︎ ] GOJO SATORU

The car ride home tonight is silent for the most part. It’s your car, your hands on the steering wheel, and therefore your rules. Maybe you haven’t been looking at your speedometer but in case you haven’t noticed, your anger adds more pressure to your foot on the pedal, and you’re a few kilometers past the highway speed limit.

All this because of some petty argument and you barely even remember what it’s about. All you know is, it’s one that made you miss an exit, and it’s another 20 minutes before the next one.

“Baby, slow down.” He sighs with a tinge of worry and slight irritation in his voice. He’s not really keen on the idea of having to watch you flirt with an officer to get out of a speeding ticket. He’ll throw puppy dog eyes to the officer himself if he has to, but he’s putting a pin on that thought for now. There must be something that could remedy the situation (you) for now.

“Don’t talk to me,” you deadpan, lips pursing in your annoyance, eyes dead fixed on the road.

“Fine. Then, I won’t,” he hums, an idea suddenly popping up in his head. “I won’t talk to you. I’ll just…” He fiddles with the hems of your skirt, knuckles lightly stroking your plump and exposed skin.

“What the hell are you doing?” You shift in your seat, quickly taking a glance at your boyfriend.

“Not talking.” It starts with just his fingers, now it’s a full hand, and it’s squeezing and massaging your thigh, reaching higher and higher up till it’s a hair away from your clothed sex.

“That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Satoru.” You gulp, and he doesn’t fail to notice your breath has shifted, taking deeper inhales and longer exhales the closer he gets to your panties.

And he knows it’s a dangerous game. But hey, at least you’re not in danger of getting a ticket anymore. He’s glad you’re distracted. One finger hooking on the waistband of your panties is enough to make your breath hitch. Watching you chew on your bottom lip puts a strain in his pants knowing you’re trying your hardest not to be the first to break. You’re so cute when you’re angry, focus never breaking when you reach the woodsy outskirts of your exit, and he wonders if you took the wrong turn.

“Why are we here—”

“You fucking idiot.” You’re fuming as you unbuckle your belt, making your way to the backseat.

“I fucking love you.”

….

He’s never seen you cum so fast before, never seen you more vocal, fingers raking into the leather of your back seat, not a care in the world how expensive it’s going to be to have it replaced. He should piss you off more if it means he’ll have you on all fours again in your car in the middle of the woods, begging and screaming for him to fuck you deeper and deeper a nearby town could mistake your cries for a mating call.

He finds a neat little discovery too when a light shines on your window, practically blinding you, and your insides coil around his cock he’s almost sure he was locked in knots. You’re so fucking hot when you’re embarrassed, unable to help the moans that escape your lips even when a cop knocks on your window.

[ ❤︎ ] KAMO CHOSO

“I already told you I’m sorry!”

You won’t budge, half-sulking-half pissed with your back turned to him on the bed, sitting on your folded legs. You refuse to talk to him too so he settles with hugging you from behind, bunny tail pressing against his crotch. You feel his fingers fidgeting against your stomach, clearly remorseful for what he did. Your boyfriend is the last person on earth who could forget about special dates, let alone an anniversary — or so you thought.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please forgive me.” And you want to forgive him. But you had already spent the last few weeks finding the best anniversary costume present, only to be met with questioning heart eyes at the bunny ears and frilly lingerie, wondering what’s the occasion.

“It’s fine, forget it. Just leave me alone.” You try to wriggle out of his hold, only grinding against him kn the process.

“Won’t let go till I know you’ll allow me to make up for it.”

“Stop, it’s done okay — wait, are you…” At first, you thought it was your puffy tail pressing on your ass but you realize that’s definitely not the case when the thing behind you tripled in size.

“Yeah.” He buries his face deeper in your hair, taking in the sweet smell of you despite your little tantrum. His thumb tries to graze your underboob, fiddling with the frilly wires, popping in and out of the garment, obviously trying to restrain himself. “Sorry, you’re just… so soft.”

“Bunny, I know you’re mad and you can tell me all about it.” His hand reaches for your clothed pussy, fingernails scratching your slit behind the fabric. He finally puts the garment aside, spreading your wet, puffy folds with his pointer and ring fingers before sliding his middle into your slippery hole. “Go on, I’m listening.”

[ ❤︎ ] RYOUMEN SUKUNA

“Don’t ignore me, you.”

“He’s my childhood friend! Just a friend, okay?! Why can’t you understand that?”

“He could be the dog of your sister-in-law’s neighbor, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t want you fucking talking to that guy anymore.”

“It doesn’t mean anything!”

“So? I don’t like how he looks at you — hey, don’t leave! Don’t get mad — c’mon!” He catches up with you when your pace quickens as you bolt through the door. Tattooed arms coming from behind you lock tightly around your waist, his face burrowing into your neck.

“Let me go!”

“Fuck no.” He’s still as a rock the first few seconds as you try to wriggle out of his hold. When you realize it’s futile, he begins to pepper kisses on your exposed shoulder, trailing kisses along your neck up to your temple, as if he’a getting off that easy.

“Ryo, stop!”

“Uh-uh.” He runs his nose across your ear before leaving breathy kisses on your lobe. He’s a fucking menace for knowing exactly what makes you weak in the knees and using that against you.

“If you think that’s going to work, I-I — ohh, fuck.” Your head cranes backwards, leaning on his hard chest when his hand slides down your pants. Heat rises to your cheeks in embarrassment when you realize he found you wet despite all this. Or maybe it’s because of this?

“I don’t know? Seems to be working.” Because it fucking is. And you hate that it is. But his hand — black fingernails grazing your clit sloppy, wetting it with your juices — it feels so hot against your pussy at this stupid moment. His free hand reaches for your tit underneath your shirt around the same time as when he started pumping digits into your hole.

You’re not getting out of this alive.

“You still gonna talk to him?”

“Who?”

[ ❤︎ ] FUSHIGURO TOJI

“I fuckin’ swear, I don’t know how that girl got my number.”

“Don’t care. Go away, Toji.” Standing and towering in front of you, he tries to block you in every which direction. He doesn’t budge. Sneaking past him isn’t an option either as those freakishly long arms could easily prevent you from going anywhere.

You didn’t mean to read his messages. But when an unknown number pops out of your boyfriend’s notifications with kissy emojis followed by a steamy shot of her backside, you can’t help but be… curious.

You’re not sure what to think. On the one hand, you know Toji would never cheat on you or lie to you about these things. On the other hand, you also just found out this isn’t the first time this girl has sent him anything — nor the first time anyone’s sent him anything in the whole duration of your relationship.

“Believe me. I ignore every single one of these text messages, I don’t know how they keep finding me!”

“Yeah, well you could’ve told me.” Toji sighs realizing only now that he should’ve. He didn’t think it mattered or that you would be this bothered when you found out. Clearly, he was wrong.

You take his pause as your cue to walk past him, but a big hand slams to the wall next to you, preventing you from walking any further. His hand slides higher as he leans closer to the wall, forcing you to back up and hide in his shadow.

His lips are a breath away, eyes staring at yours through his lashes. His free hand cups your chin, gently forcing you to listen to him carefully. “I never told you because I didn’t care about any of them.”

His hand reaches for the skirt of your dress, balling the fabric into his fist as he raises the fabric till your thighs are exposed. “Why would I care about any of them when I have you,” he slides his hand into your panties, stroking stripes along your wet slit, “and this pussy.”

You all but melt into his touch, pussy squirming underneath his hold. Toji slowly kneels to the floor, taking your panties with him before throwing them aside. He pushes your knees aside, staring right at you as his hot breath fans your exposed cunt. “This pussy. Always so fucking ready for me.”

His wet muscle parts your folds, licking heavenly stripes on your throbbing clit. You lean on the wall for dear life, one hand above your head, the other on your partner’s head, shoving him closer to your pussy as you ride his mouth.

“I’m changing my number, I promise.”

♡ reblogs & comments are appreciated ♡

[murdrdocs]

repressed and desperately horny luke who has never seen a porn video vs new to camp reader who used to be able to watch it whenever they wanted but now can't even flick the bean in peace

oh and maybe reader who gives Luke a dirty polaroid or two they've been hiding before they leave camp for the fall

— 🦣

🦣 anon strikes again omg. this concept actually makes me all giddy i want it to be something Bigger hence the informal format but just follow me here okay.

just thinking about ya'll finding each other in a moment of need. fate, really, if either of you believed in the concept. you, grumpy and insatiable from lack of proper sexual satisfaction, and luke, knowing he's feeling something but he doesn't know how to expel the need. sure he jacks off sometime, but not nearly as much as a guy of his age usually would.

so there you are, grumbling about, eyes narrowed, mimicking the behavior of ares kids (your possible siblings but it's anyone's guess at this point) and luke just has to go and be the mediator, asking what's got you so down. of course, you're wound up so tight, and a little grateful that someone your age has asked the question because you can finally tell the truth.

out comes your dirty secrets. your longing for peace and quiet to get off. your slightly remorseful nature because you had no idea that you were that reliant on pornography to help you out. and luke is just standing there, ears reddening as he suddenly finds the trees behind you incredibly interesting.

but luke is a Problem Solver, so he awkwardly has a suggestion for you. "the showers right before the bonfire are usually pretty deserted. and for your ..." he scratches a nonexistent itch behind his ear. "other problem, my brothers have some old magazines i could lend to you."

you snort, arms folding as you pretend to be disinterested. but really anything would satiate you at this point. "what are they? women on motorcycles? maybe an old playboy mag?"

luke shrugs. "dunno. never seen 'em."

and it takes you a second. a really long, tense, and warm (for luke) second where you eye him up. noticing his stance, taking in his clipped words, how he said them. and it occurs to you that little demigod luke, having been at camp half blood since 14, has never seen what the world has to offer in the pornography department. or if he has, he hasn't seen the porn of today.

and unfortunately, it's impossible for you to fix his issue in naivety. there are no phones in camp and even if there were, you don't think the service out here would be all too good. which leaves you to improvise.

you do end up getting the mags from the hermes boys, critiquing their selection with a scrutinized glare at the pages, flicking through them with the edge of your shirt to avoid any remnants. and then you report back to luke, telling him to give them a look, prefacing it by telling him that things now are much more entertaining. slyly hinting at your ears being open if he wanted to give his opinion.

which, he does. standing awfully close to you at the bonfire one night, body turned just a little so he can speak lowly.

"there's ... things better than that out there?"

you nod, affirming his statement while attempting to hide a small smile. the magazines were barely pornography in your eyes, women in manufactured poses to appeal to men. skin artificially smoothed, their cunts shockingly dry, their poses so meticulous. it lacked the emotion and desire that you enjoyed to watch.

and poor luke didn't even know the half of it.

at least you do introduce him to what he could be consuming just before you leave camp that summer, sliding him two polaroids you'd managed to take.

one of you in the showers, body littered with clumps of suds. your skin shining from the overhead light which gleams from the water along your body. it's taken from a low angle, the side of your backside being the main focal point with your tits at the top just barely making the cut.

and then the other is much more lewd, showing luke what the magazines should have. you, on your back in a camp bed, wearing nothing but your standard issued shirt which is bunched up around the waist. your free hand is between your spread thighs, two fingers clearly singled out to spread your lips and reveal just how wet and shiny your cunt is. and after one of his many sessions of getting off over it, the post nut clarity manifests as hyper analyzing for luke.

he notices the familiar pair of shoes off to the corner, the pillowcase he had one of his brothers sneak in last summer, the stain he's never been able to get out of his fitted sheet.

and suddenly the picture has new meaning for him.

[chishiyaisasnack]

Shower time

Here’s a fic that I’ve been working on for a good while now and I’m finally content with posting it. It’s sfw even though it’s a shower scene. Mostly fluff (?) and a tiiiiiny but of angst.

Disclaimer! This story is based in the Borderlands and it mentions blood, wounds and trauma from it. It’s not about how they got injured, but more so very mildly describing that they are injured. I consider it sfw but it does contain nudity since they’re taking a shower, but I’m not describing bodyparts or anything. Also, small references to sex just for humor, but there is no smut whatsoever.

Oh, and the reader doesn’t know that Chishiya is a doctor.

I’ve written and am posting on mobile so I’m sorry for any formatting issues.

”I’m going to take a shower.”

With strong steps - actually more like a wobble - you walked into your room at The Beach, Chishiya following close behind you, watching your every movement just in case you would trip over your own feet, like you already had done about 30 times since you left the game area. It had been a rough one and it had left you wounded, exhausted and a bit lethargic. Not to mention the strain it had taken on your mental state, like the games always did, but you had turned off your feelings for now and had only one goal in mind: a long, warm shower to wash off all the remnants of the game.

”No you aren’t, it can wait until tomorrow.” Chishiya sounded like he always did, bored and condescending, but you knew that there was some worry in there somewhere. Otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered to follow you all the way back to your room, offering to catch you when you’d eventually fall.

”I feel gross. I’m covered in … stuff.” Blood. You were covered in blood. You raised your arms to make your point clearer, in case he missed what an absolute mess you were right now.

”Fine. Come on then.” Chishiya sighed, walked around you, and went towards the bathroom while you stood confused, watching him open the door and look back at you before stepping inside.

”Wait, what?” you asked, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Why was he joining you?

With slow steps you followed him, wondering if he got the wrong idea. He was gorgeous, but sex was the last thing on your mind, especially shower sex. Didn’t he say that you were in no condition to even take a shower to begin with? You stopped in the doorway and waited for a response.

”You most likely have a concussion, you’re wounded and you’re exhausted. You’re going to collapse by yourself.” He turned on the shower and let the stream of water fall, waiting for it to turn hot.

”Okay, okay, doctor.” The smirk you got back confused you even more. Did he have a thing for being called ’doctor’? It wouldn’t suprise you, he was a mystery. But even him would surely have preferrences. Wait, why were you thinking about sex again?

You shook your head as you walked inside the bathroom, limping past Chishiya as he was making his way out again. Or so you thought. In the corner of your eye you saw him stretch, but it wasn’t until you turned around that you saw what he really was doing.

”Uhh, why are you taking your clothes off?” Your eyes widened as his hoodie hit the floor. He had no shame, appearantly getting naked with you without warning was completely normal in his world.

”I’m getting ready to help you when you realise that I was right. Don’t worry, I won’t join you until you ask me to. Which will be soon, so I’m preparing for that.”

You didn’t know if you should feel thankful or offended by what he said.

Chishiya however, smirked again, cocking an eyebrow at your dumbfounded look. He was enjoying this. While still looking at you he started to pull down his shorts. Your eyes were fixed on the pile of clothes he had created on the floor, which thankfully wasn’t added with more pieces since he decided to keep at least his boxers on. The daring look he had on his face when you turned your eyes back up was annoying. Did he like that you were looking at him? Not that you were looking at him like that anyway. You just wanted to take a shower. Or so you told yourself.

With his shirt and pants off he sat down on the toilet seat, turning around so that he had his back against you and the glass wall of the shower.

”Go ahead” he said, a hint of amusement hiding in his voice. ”I won’t look.”

”You better not” you huffed back at him, watching him carefully while you started to remove your own clothes, ripped apart and stained with blood. Instead of putting them in a pile you threw them straight into the trashcan. Once removed, you looked into the mirror over the sink and you almost gasped at how wounded you actually were. Cuts and bruises covered your arms, legs and back. Patches of your skin were stained red, even your face still had traces of blood left on it. You looked terrible.

Sighing, you stopped studiyng yourself and looked over your shoulder. Chishiya was still sitting with his back against you, shoulders rising and falling slow with every breath, the muscles of his back tensing when he moved. He looked soft. You wondered what he would look like wet.

No! This was not the right time to daydream about Chishiya and his pretty back, his blonde hair that fell in waves over his shoulders, those shoulders that probably would feel great to hold on to while your lips were… Oh, for fucks sake, just get in the shower y/n.

After disrupting yourself from your thoughts you made your way into the shower, closing your eyes as the water started cascading down your body. The glass wall seperating the shower and the rest of the room was conveniently half covered with frosted glass so that it covered most of your body, from your shoulders down to your knees, making you a bit less embarrassed over being naked in the same room as him. Being naked in front of someone when it wasn’t sexual wasn’t your idea of calming, and even though he had no shame, you still had. This was too intimate, too casual. But if it was what it took to take a shower then you’d do it. Even though you didn’t like to admit it you did trust Chishiya to treat you with decency and respect. He might be considered one of the people you shouldn’t trust in the borderlands, a bad person perhaps, but not bad enough to overstep someones boundaries like this.

”Let me know when you need me.” Chishiyas voice rang somewhere in the distance. Not even a ’if you need me’. He was too confident and it just made you even more stubborn. You were definitely able to take a shower by yourself, you were damned to not let him win this one, you told yourself while reaching for the soap. With unsteady hands (no, they absolutely weren’t unsteady because you were tired) you started to scrub the dirt off yourself, one part at a time. You hissed whenever you discovered a new wound you weren’t aware of and eventually the pain from it made you a bit dizzy. No, you could do this.

You clenched your jaw as you continued, slowly moving from head to toe, covering yourself with suds. Finally, everything you could see and feel was gone, so you let the stream of water fall over you once again, closing your eyes, enjoying the warmth that it gave. You felt your muscles relax, your breathing slowing down, your eyelids getting heavier…

”Chishiya…” you mumbled weakly, mad that he was right, again.

”I’m here.” A voice right behind you made you jump. You turned around and swung your fist towards him, ready to punch him out of pure panic, but he caught it before it landed on him. The borderlands had really done a number on you, you were constantly prepared for survival and appearantly even Chishiya was a victim of your anxiety. ”Calm down, it’s just me.”

”How long have you been standing there?!” You wobbled to the side as you tried to fight your bodys urge to fall onto the ground from the sudden movements. Chishiya steadied you by holding your upper arms, and helped you turn back around so that your back was facing him again.

”You moved slower and slower so I was ready when you called for me. I haven’t been standing here ogling.”

”So you have been watching me?” You didn’t even think about the fact that you probably flashed him completely just now. Well, if he saw something he didn’t care about it, which was comforting in this situation.

”Of course. I couldn’t see anything other than your head anyway. It wasn’t quite the show you think it was.” Chishiyas voice was dripping with amusement.

Once again, you didn’t know if you should be thankful or offended.

”Give me the schampoo bottle.” Chishiya asked, or rather commanded, reaching his arm out next to you so you could hand him the bottle. Once he got it you could hear him shake it before opening it and pouring out some of the liquid in his hand, followed by a low thump as he put it on the floor behind you.

Slender fingers moved over your hair, softly massaging it with his fingertips, giving you full body shivers from the way his fingers drew circles between the strands. It felt nice. Safe. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes again and just relish in the warmth radiating from his hands. He was so careful with how he touched you, slow and gentle while he worked his way through all of your hair.

A part of you wished that he would step closer so that you could feel the warmth from his body wrap around you, so that you could lean back and relax in his arms, just enjoying how your body would feel so at ease while being comforted, but you had no idea how to ask him for that without it sounding sexual.

”Shower head, please.”

You did as he asked and handed him the shower head, turning up the water pressure while doing so to make it easier for him to rinse.

”Close your eyes and bend your head backwards. Tell me if you feel dizzy.” Chishiya didn’t sound so stern this time. His words were soft and comforting, asking you to trust him. So you did.

He rinsed your hair in silence. One hand holding the shower head while the other one kept massaging your scalp, making sure to rinse out the schampoo properly. Even though you desperately tried to relax and just enjoy the feeling of being taken care of, you couldn’t stop your emotions from seeping back into your mind. Pictures of the game were flashing before your eyes. People screaming. Fighting. Lasers going off.

”Chishiya…” you whispered, no longer able to stop thinking about what had happend earlier.

”Mhmm..?”

”There was a child there tonight.”

He didn’t answer but you could feel the movements in his hands stiffen as he continued to rinse your scalp free from schampoo.

”I didn’t know that there were children here” you continued, trying to get the thoughts out of your head so you wouldn’t be tormented by them during the night. ”I thought maybe we were sent here to repent or something like that, that we were getting what we deserve. But why would a child deserve this? Even if we are all randomly sent here, without any reason behind why it’s us in particular, why would they choose a child?”

”…I don’t know.” He sounded emtpy when he answered, not that you were expecting his words to be comforting. They rarely were. There was a long pause before he spoke again. ”Did the child make it?”

”Yeah…” A shiver ran trough your body when Chishiya stopped rinsing your hair, already missing the heat from the water. Another thump came from the floor when he put the shower head down. ”Some of us worked together and protected him as much as we could.”

”Do you have conditioner?” he interrupted, sticking his hand out next to you so that you could hand it to him. You placed the bottle in his hand and watched him retrieve it. A click of the bottle cap was followed by another thump when he put it down on the ground. You wondered how many times he must’ve stared at your ass by now.

”Anyway,” you continued, shaking the image of him smirking at your butt away. ”That’s why I look like this. I took the hits for him.”

”That sounds like you.”

You hummed at his words. It was reassuring that you were considered to be a nice person, even in this hellscape.

Gentle fingers threaded through your hair again and you leaned into the touch. It went by faster this time since he didn’t need to scrub, although you wished he would keep doing this for hours. Every time he let go of you - this time to pick up the shower head again - the ache in your body took over, making you tremble ever so slightly even though the steam from the hot water was surrounding you. You were relieved when you felt the water against your back, contently closing your eyes and bending your head back into Chishiyas palm.

”I envy you sometimes.” Chishiya mumbled, so quiet that the sound of the water almost drowned it out.

”You do?”

”I wouldn’t have helped someone else if it meant that I would have to work for it, let alone get hurt from it.” Chishiya paused briefly, like he was choosing his words carefully. ”Especially not a stranger. You didn’t think twice about doing so.”

”I don’t believe that.” You cut him off before he got the chance to put himself down even more. ”You’re better than you think, Chishiya. Just look at what you’re doing for me right now.”

”I’m washing your hair, I’m not saving you from dying.” You could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

”You don’t have to save me from death to help me. This is helping me. Besides, from the sound of your attempts to stop me from showering, I could die in here if you didn’t help me.”

”Maybe I just wanted to see you naked” Chishiya joked with such a monotone voice that anyone else would think he was serious, but you knew better. Well, if he was serious he had gotten his wish - paired with a fist coming at his face.

”Right” you snorted, too tired to laugh. A blush still crept over your cheeks, imagining his eyes on you in that way. ”Keep telling yourself that if that makes you feel better.”

”There” Chishiya ignored your answer and handed you the shower head. Cold air rushed to your skin as the water left it, leaving you almost begging for him to continue. Would it be so bad if you did?

”You can turn off the water now. I’ll get you some towels. Stay there.”

With a pout you put the shower head back into it’s place and turned off the water. Behind you, you could hear how Chishiya was gathering towels from a drawer, his footsteps making their way back over the tiled floor that would be cold and uninviting for your own feet in a second.

”Lift your arms a little.” You did as he asked and lift your arms halfway up, stopping waist high, only to see Chishiyas arms poking out from under them, holding up a towel that you thankfully grabbed a hold on and quickly wrapped around yourself to try to regain some of the warmth that the shower had given you.

”You’re safe to turn around now.”

”Thank you” you quitly replied as you gently spun around, just to be met by a still undressed Chishiya with his own towel hanging around his neck and a soft expression on his face. If you didn’t know better you would think that he was worried about you.

A smaller towel was in one of his hands - which soon landed on your head, covering your face at the same time. Your sour expression that was revealed as you peeled it off made him grin.

”Do you want help to dry it?” He asked, eyes shiny from amusement, and watched as you stubbornly started to squeeze the ends of your hair, too tired to lift your arms up and dry it completely.

”No, I’ll just put the towel over the pillow when I sleep. It’s fine” you replied, following his example and put your own towel over your shoulders. The chill in the air was starting to really get to you, and you decided that you couldn’t get to the bed fast enough. Just thinking about laying down, surrounded by warm covers, maybe even a pair of socks on your feet at first, burying your head on the pillow…

”The wounds on your back looked fine but I still need to cover some of them with bandaids. I need to examine your front too. Let me know when you’ve covered up so that I can check your arms, legs and stomach.”

Ugh, why did he have to interupt your dream about your bed with another naked request? You just wanted to sleep.

”I’m sure I’ll be fine Chishiya” you groaned back at him, slowly (and unsteadily) making your way past him and towards the bed. You could see the light at the end of the tunnel, just a few more steps and you’d reach the doorhandle, that doorhandle that would open the gate and lead you straight towards the nice, warm, fluffy….

You groaned even louder when you felt a hand grip your arm, stopping your weak attempt to get out of the bathroom and keeping you still while Chishiya made his way around you so that he was facing you again. That calm face was back and you didn’t like it.

”Please, Chishiya, just let me sleep” you pleaded but to no avail.

”Come here.” You had no choice but to move after him, not being strong enough to even attempt to break loose from his grip on your arm, that was keeping you somewhat steady as you plopped one foot in front of the other until you reached the end of the bathroom. Then - lo and behold - Chishiya opened the door and led you out into the hotel room, making your way straight towards the bed. Right as he reached the foot of the bed he stopped and slowly turned the two of you around in a circle so that your back was now facing the bed, and then pushed you back so that you fell down on the soft duvet cover with a yelp. It felt like heaven to finally lay down, like a cloud was enveloping you and taking you with it to the land of dreams.

”Where are your underwear?” Chishiya once again interrupted your inner monolouge.

”Why? Wanna see them so badly even though you’ve already seen me naked?” You rolled your eyes and leaned your head to the side so that you could watch him dig around in a dresser until he grabbed the first, best pair of panties he could find and threw them at you.

”Put them on please, unless you want me to examine you naked. I’m fine with either way.”

You just huffed at him, secretly liking the playful look he was giving you. When he turned his back to you, you managed to shuffle around and get your panties on, just to let your legs fall back down onto the bed with a loud thump. God, you were exhausted.

”I’m done, doctor.” Once again, he reacted with a grin and you were now positive that he had some wierd doctor patient kink and that you were so going to make him confess that. A mission for another day.

Chishiya sat down next to your legs and reached over them to pick up a first aid kit you didn’t even know was laying next to you. Was he a wizard too?

You kept still, listening to the opening of packets, a liquid poured onto what you imagined was a cotton ball, and then your own hiss as he touched the first wound on your leg. It wasn’t the liquid that hurt, it was just the tender touch from the gauze he dabbed against your skin that hurt enough to make you wince. He must have started on a bad one.

”Try to keep still” he murmured gently, sounding like he was completely occupied with his task of tormenting you just a bit more before letting you sleep.

You stayed as still as you could, trying to concentrate on his hands and fingers working their way over your legs, dabbing it with the liquid, letting it dry, then putting a compress and some adhesive tape over it like a home made band aid. His touch was so gentle that it was barely there.

Your eyelids turned heavier with every touch of his fingertips and even though your wounds were stinging, his warm skin eased the pain afterwards and comforted you without knowing so. Before falling asleep you murmured a ”thank you.”

The last thing you remembered was the feeling of being enveloped in something warm, probably the cover that wasn’t underneath you and a soft whisper.

”You’re welcome.”

[sashi-ya]

𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑫𝑺 ⛈ [chapter 1: introduction] 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭! 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐅! 𝐂𝐄𝐎! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

⇝ Interactive fic format welcome to the first chapter! as mentioned previously this will be an interactive fic! how does it work? by the end of every chapter you will find a poll section where you will be able to vote for what's coming in the next chapter! what will reader do? what will be the consequences? have fun! ⇝ tw: the story is set to be an awakening for reader. you will find topics as loneliness, hints of depression and suicidal tendencies. be specially careful if this topics are triggering for you. there is no smut in this chapter, but it will be in the following ones. ⇝ don't forget to vote at the end of every chapter! ⇝ masterlist

Nobody, never, told you no. And nobody, ever, will. Miss Independent. Miss Successful. The Boss.

“I don’t care about a stupid storm, get me a damn ticket NOW” you order. The sound of your voice echoes against the many glass windows of your rooftop office. You don’t mind, nor care for your safety… all you have in your life is your job. Biggest enterprise that leads many markets and won’t ever stop growing. At least not on your watch.  

Your hills click harder against the cold marble of the floor, a tuft of hair gets curled around your finger, the insides of your mouth are heavily bitten. Nobody, however, knows you can get anxious. And nobody should, either.

“The… the airport is closed, Miss” your assistant, Usopp, informs.

Your eyes are glued to the blurred image of the city. You can see almost all of it from your position. And it’s that, exactly, what money and power makes you feel; like you are above them all.

“Then get the jet” you venously spit, as if your assistant was stupid enough not to think of that already. “I don’t give a fuck if it’s closed, we are taking off from the vineyard runway”

You notice your secretary nervously trying to find any type of words that could stop you from doing such stupidity, but he finally gives up and simply says “yes, boss...”

He walks away, already with his phone in his hands. He needs to call the private pilot on a Thursday night, with a cyclone outside, just because you couldn’t wait.

The tuft you’ve been playing with around your finger is now behind your ear. You tucked it. As always, your hand did it. Your long red nails did. Loneliness never made you less successful; in fact, quite the opposite.

Through the glass wall, covered in uncountable raindrops, your blurred vision finally fixes into the many buildings around. All of them, so late in the evening, begin to show candid lights throughout them. Families that join and play together. Lonely people hugging their pets. Couples dancing and kissing, or even looking through their windows. None of them, but you, show a single silhouette tonight.

“Boss, I’m- I…” your assistant breaks your bubble of hate and self-awareness. “The pilot says he is not flying tonight. It’s too dangerous” he excuses himself. In fact, his head bowed down exposes how mortified he is by not being able to accomplish your orders.

You turn around and massage your temple. There is a very important meeting you need to attend tomorrow morning. You can’t wait.

“Put Doffy on the line and leave me alone” you straight and coldly say.

He nods, leaving immediately, closing the heavy doors behind him. Not even five seconds after, the sound of your phone announces  Mr. Donquixote is waiting on the line.

“My sweet (Name), to what do I owe the pleasure of your call? Are you feeling lonely tonight? You can come home whenever you can” the excentric billionaire, who you sometimes fuck with, sings through the phone.

“I need your private pilot. Now. Flying my jet from the vineyards” you say, not much information is given. He probably understands.

He laughs. Extremely loudly.

“No pilot will take you anywhere tonight but let me see if my nephew wants to risk his life. The kid wants to die often, and apparently you too” he keeps laughing while telling you such terrible statement.

“I need a pilot, not a kid Doflamingo” “He is, indeed, a pilot. Give me twenty minutes, I’ll send it to your vineyard. But you owe me one… you know exactly those lips are my weakness”

Done. Problem fixed. You always know who to call when you need something; you know nobody really cares about your wellbeing but only the things they could get in return if you owe them something.

A carry on is always packed with essential stuff on your office; many are the times you spend travelling compared to those you spend at your own house. You grab it along with your coat and your keys.  You don’t wait for your chauffer; you don’t want to hear blabbering about safety.

“It’s just rain. What’s gonna happen? Am I getting my stilettos wet? So what?”

There isn’t much traffic, the many lights are indeed going the opposite way to yours. Everybody seems to be returning home, while you are driving straight to the outside of the city. Your vineyards aren’t that far but are certainly on a much rural zone.

Thunder roar in the open sky, the darkest night seems to be only illuminated by the power of those flashing lights inside growing grey towers of fluff.

“Bet is gonna be a very fun flight ~” you hum, as you imagine the little powerful plane crossing the menacing clouds ahead.

It takes you little time to arrive to your destination, the engine of your car is way more powerful than most of the automobiles out there.

Right by the door of your vineyards, a man that seems to be on the bones, salutes you.

“Yohohoho! What are you doing here, Boss? Welcome! Do I prepare a glass of Merlot or maybe a Pinot Noir for you tonight? ” he asks, taking his hat off, revealing an amazing afro underneath.

“Brook, take this to the jet. The pilot will be here at any minute, he is a new one so let him pass the door” you instruct your housekeeper, throwing your carry on at him.

His eyes, deep into the sockets of his skull, open wide. Of course, nobody expects you to fly with such storm outside… but that’s just you, and exactly how you are.

“Sure, Boss. I’ll sort everything out for you right away”

You take a swift look at the main house of your vineyards. Everything is perfectly clean and well kept. You are satisfied; your personnel works perfectly well. Except your private pilot, that one is already fired.

You sit down, flopping maybe onto a fancy couch. Nobody is watching, you are allowed to rest for at least just a moment. However, the calm lasts no longer than a couple of seconds.

“Miss (Name), the pilot is here” Brook comments, making your shut eyes to open slowly and -mostly- annoyed. You didn’t expect to see a man standing right next to your employee, but there he is.

“Who are you? why aren’t you on the plane already?” you ask, not even standing up but crossing your legs as you stiff your back muscles. Your thighs, flash a little bit of them underneath the cut of your pencil tight skirt. Your red nails carve on the sides of the armchairs.

The man, of steel eyes and dark hair smirks just a little with defiance and superior demeanour. Something you most likely don’t fancy but makes your insides… anxiously alive.

Wearing nothing but a private pilot uniform, he stands right in front of you. It shows that he is clearly not used to serve, but to be served. And you soon remember this man, who’s been called a “kid”, is in fact Donquixote Doflamingo’s nephew.

“You must be Doffy’s nephew; you are just like him; you don’t bow before anyone. Don’t you?” you ask, this time standing up. Not even your high heels are enough to surpass his height.

He hums. “Trafalgar Law, and I’m not like him” he spits. Apparently he is not only spoiled, but also hates his own family. “I’m not here to work for you, I am here because I’ve been told you needed a favour. You should know how to fly planes by now” he states.

You burn. How dare him tell you are not independent enough.

“Indeed, I do. Apparently you aren’t aware of the fact that I can’t fly without another pilot because of stupid laws and regulations. This isn’t a helicopter; this is a jet” you inform him, walking right pass him and asserting dominance with your hand on his shoulder.

You look him in the eye with a side look. Law, does the same. You are close, so close you can hear his breathing. And your image, imponent and beautiful, reflects on the golden hoops that hang from his right ear.

Both, intensely fight in silence. For what, however, none of you exactly know. And the energy between you two, could probably alter the weather, and the world itself…

“Come on, I have no time to waste. I need to be in London by tomorrow morning” you break the silence. Walking towards a big hall that takes you to the hangar, you turn around just for a couple of seconds to give a last lethal look at your new young companion.

Just a hint of flustered cheeks show in his face, but it’s enough for you to feel like you have won the battle of dominance. Or that’s what you thought.

The heavy steps behind you, makes you internally smile. You are used to be followed by almost mute employees, walking on eggshells not to piss you off. But Law is different; he is not doing this for the money, nor status. He is as suicidal as you, flying in this weather should be prohibited… in fact, it is. But the rich never ask for permission. You are know you are above everything else. And that includes the clouds, too.

“Give me a second, let me sort the charts” Law says, taking a look at the papers in his hands before climbing into the jet.

You nod, as you do the same with your laptop. Something inside you tells you to stop; that those conditions will bring more than mere turbulence. Yet, your cold heart, tells you something louder than your reason; “who cares if something happens, after all? Just do it”

Half an hour after, and a couple of swift looks at each other, Law and you are already set to departure.

For the first time since he arrived you notice the tattoos on his hands; knuckles inked with the word “D.E.A.T.H” rip a scoff from you. It is quite funny to you, that those hands could most likely either fly you to death if you aren’t lucky enough, or to London if you are.

“We don’t need to fly now, we can wait until the conditions seem better” Law murmurs, as those inked fingers turn on every button of the plane. “Your plans aren’t more important than any life”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOh. So, he is not that willing to die as Doffy said…

[kiaxet]

So it turns out the latest update in @somerandomdudelmao‘s apocalypse comic has been living in my head, and when that happens I need to get it out, so ~900 words of sad it is!

~~~~~~~~

Donnie is good at birthdays. He has been once he was old enough to understand the concept. It's a point of pride.

Specifically, he's good at presents. According to his data, most people who fail at presents do so because of the guesswork they seem to think needs to be involved. He's never understood the point of that. Data and hypotheses, certainly, but why guess when a definitive answer is available after a simple direct inquiry?

"What do you want for your birthday?"

Early on, the presents are easy. Art supplies. Comics. Stuffed animals. Things he could hand to Papa in an easily followed list format, or obtain for himself once they all got old enough to start safely leaving the lair and venturing into the city above. It's simple and straightforward and so, so easy to get right.

(Of course, he always has an annotated list of his own desired gifts to provide to his brothers; if he's solved the guesswork issue, he may as well make things easy for them too. Plus, that method ensures he gets what he wants.)

Things start getting a little more complicated as he and his brothers get older. Art supplies and comics and stuffed animals are still very much appreciated, and he's documented his brothers' tastes well enough to know exactly what they like, but the answers to his simple direct inquiry are different.

"Dee, can you help me plan this mural out? I think I have enough space, but I could use a hand with the measurements."

"Donton, my half of the day is gonna be a Jupiter Jim marathon, and I need you there. Without your laptop." A beat. "But you can pick one of the movies if you want."

"Hey Donnie, you think you can help me out fixing up the gym? Things just stay put longer if you weld 'em."

After a few years of documentation, Donnie spots the pattern. His brothers appreciate physical gifts from him, certainly, but that's not what they want anymore. What Donnie's family wants from him is time - time outside the lab where he spends a good amount of his days, time spent in conversation or shared activity or simply in the same room. It's not as easy as finding the right physical gift, but if that's what they want, then he's more than happy to provide. Now that he's discerned the pattern, it's just as easy to give his brothers what they want, and Donnie can continue to maintain that he is Good At Birthdays as a point of pride.

~~~~~~~~

The Hamatos don't do birthdays anymore. There's no time in the apocalypse, no supplies, and Donnie is one of the few who actually keeps track of the calendar date. The apocalypse certainly has its share of anniversaries, a list that only grows the more people they lose, but birthdays are no longer celebrated.

With one exception.

Casey Jones Junior, their collective adopted kid, is young enough that birthdays still matter - should still matter. They do their best to keep him safe and keep those days calm and happy for him, despite everything happening around them, and while they don't always succeed, they at least try.

And damn it all, Donatello is still good at birthdays.

"Casey Junior!" He greets the kid with a grin, leaning on his bo like it's not both an inconvenience and a humiliation to need to rely on it in order to stay upright.

"Uncle Tello?"

"Since I'm not very good at guessing, I'll ask straight out." This is not entirely true - he has a list of potential gifts for Casey drafted, with 98% certainty that whatever Casey asks for will align with one of them - but he requires that confirmation to move forward. A certainty in a world where certainty is in short supply. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"My...ah." Casey's expression falls and he looks away, gaze fixed on the paperwork in his hands. Donatello says nothing, pointedly ignoring the elephant in the room in order to give Casey space. "You...can do anything," Casey starts.

"Pretty much, yes." Material issues aside - spirits know he'd have a cure for whatever the Krang had infected him with if those weren't a concern.

"I want you to stay alive," Casey says, and Donnie's smile freezes in place as Casey looks back up at him. "Can you do that?"

Damn that two percent uncertainty.

"Ah. Of course." He shrugs, as though he doesn't know exactly what Casey is asking for, and pulls up a holographic display of a calendar. "According to my calculations, I will be alive next month, which means I'll be here for your birthday." Not talking about it won't solve the problem, but it may salvage this conversation. "So! What's an actual gift you want?"

"I want you to be here." Casey's gaze finds a point on the floor, and Donnie falls silent. "Not just for a month."

No. No, he needs something concrete - something he can act on - he knows how long his list of responsibilities is, but he still feels stymied, rushing up on the end, and he needs something he can do- "But it's not a gift," he replies, a last-ditch effort he's fairly certain is bound for failure-

"No. No, it is."

As always, all Donnie's family wants from him is time.

And now, at the end of his rapidly-shortening life, it's the one thing he can no longer give them.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi! Can I request a reader x xaden fic where she gets badly hurt and he freaks out. The ending is up to you. Thank you

Not responsible for this. That’s your warning. You asked.

Breathe me in

“What’s up with you today?”, you nudged your boyfriend’s shoulder as you finally managed to find him in the back room of the training hall. Xaden simply shrugged, reaching for another dagger to throw. But you quickly stepped in front of him. “We don’t do that”, you crossed your arms over your chest, “Talk to me”, you breathed.

You could tell from the way his jaw clenched that he was calculating his answer. “I don’t like the formation they are sending out today”, he said drily. “For the petrol?”, you questioned and Xaden only nodded. “We never flown over there. Ever. And suddenly we have a new location to go to?”, he shook his head in frustration. “You think it’s a setup?”, you brushed your fingers over his back hoping to give him at least some comfort. “Who knows… I doubt it, they are sending the best. Killing them off…”, Xaden trailed off. “Well, I care because you are on the list so, I ain’t looking to lose you”, you leaned forward, kissing his chest before nuzzling into him. “So are you and I guess that’s why I am so… On edge. I don’t want to bring you into an ambush”, he admitted, leaning in to kiss the top of your head. “We would give them hell”, you muttered, making Xaden let out a low chuckle, “We would but let’s hope that we don’t have to”.

Now he wished he hadn’t brought you. Wished it would have been him and the boys. Because he had lost you and Imogen when the fire had started. You all had barely flown over the valley when the sea of arrows came. Followed by flames. “Fuck”, Xaden cursed, flying over the peek. “Yn, come on love, where are you?”, he muttered scanning the fields. “Nothing”, Bodhi shouted, flying from the left side. “Nothing here as well”, Garrick shook his head. The panic in Xaden only intensified. “We will find them”, Bodhi said firmly, “They probably just took shelter in the caves”. And Xaden truly couldn’t put into words just how much he hoped that was true.

“Xaden”, Sgaeyl's voice pierced his consciousness, “boy”, and that’s when he felt her sadness seeping into him. His eyes landed on the two huge figures down by the river. He didn’t even have to motion for the two males to follow suit. But even through the sea of emotions, he didn’t let himself lose hope. Not until Imogen’s screams filled the air. Not until the sight of your dragon slumped to the side came into view. “No”, he breathed, “No, no…”, “Stay in the saddle”, Sgaeyl warned him but Xaden was already swinging his leg over her body, “Xaden”, she hissed tilting to the side so she could at least break his fall.

“Yn”, he shouted, “Yn”, his legs hit the ground and he was running. Running towards kneeling Imogen. He was going to fix this. He was going to make it better and then… then he would kill everyone who was in on this. “Yn”, he repeated over and over till his eyes landed on your limp body on Imogen’s lap. Imogen who was sobbing so hard her body shook, “I couldn’t, I can’t”, she choked out, brushing some of your blood-soaked hair away from your face.

Xaden fell to his knees, reaching for you. “Hey, baby, hey, hey”, he gathered you in his embrace. The sound of your dragon growling in pain echoed through the field. You blinked slowly and he quickly gathered your face in his hands, “Look at me, I will get you back, we will fix this”, but you simply shook your head, “Want to… die… here”, you choked out. “No, no, you’re not dying”, Xaden shook his head, “We’ll go home, okay? We will…”, “Xaden”, you breathed out.

A pained cry ripped through him as he pressed you closer to him. His hands soaked in your blood from the open wound on your back. He lifted his eyes to look at the friends. Garrick had gathered Imogen in his arms, his own eyes red from tears. Bodhi was kneeling by your dragon, trying to soothe the pain. “We need to go”, Xaden urged, trying to lift you but the pained growl that left you had him stilling instantly.

“To the river…”, you breathed out, lips rimed with blood, face growing paler. Xaden didn’t even have to think twice as he turned towards the shore where the water was running. “Pretty”, you muttered, eyes growing heavy. “Let me help, let me become I can’t…”, Xaden choked out. Nuzzling closer to you. “I… love”, your voice died with a pained cough. “Don’t do this”, Xaden shook his head, “You can’t leave me, that’s an order”, he tried to suppress the sob but that only left him shaking. “Best thing… that happened to me… was you”, you lifted your hand as much as you could and Xaden instantly leaned to meet your touch nuzzling into your warmth.

“I love you”, Xaden muttered, trying to smile at you, trying to give you that one goodbye. “Love”, you breathed out right as Xaden leaned in to carefully kiss you. Brushing his lips over yours one last time right as your body fully limped. A pained sob echoed as Xaden shouted. Pulling you as close as he possibly could. Rocking back and forth as he held you. Feeling the cold setting in. The never undoable coldness taking you from him forever.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day nineteen: hate sex

>>> i’m really taking some liberties with this prompt LMFAOOOOO listen. y’all should just be thanking me this wasn’t a gojo kinktober. leave me be. also this is the first piece since my laptop kicked the bucket so PLEASE ignore the UGLY formatting i will fix it as soon as i get a new laptop.

>>> starring: satoru gojo x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: ghostie gojo jdjdfkgk, bestie nanami, uhh spankings, choking, doggy, prone bone, cream pie, pet names (sweetheart) and mean names (dickhead, asshole) >>> wc: 4.5k >>> event masterlist

everything was perfect. he was a great partner despite all the people that warned you that the special grade sorcerer was incapable of it. he was wonderful and sweet and considerate, even. he brought you lunch at work and took you on wonderfully lavish dates. he texted you constantly and showered you with gifts. you had only been together for a few months, though almost a year of history had led you here. you were happy, proving everyone who doubted your relationship wrong. until you realized that they were only trying to keep you from this reality.

“i love you, you know.” you told him, swinging your intertwined hands between you as he walked you home. this was a truth you’ve known since the relationship was too fresh to say such things, but a truth nonetheless. he hid it well in the moment, but that was the death sentence to a man like satoru gojo. he knew it was only a matter of time—yet his heart stopped in his chest, turning to steel before falling out of his ass. but he made sure his smile never faltered.

“oh yeah? i’ll add you to the list.” he chuckled, poking your side to make you laugh at the stupid taunt. it worked well enough, you didn’t seem to catch on to his avoidance. you didn’t chastise him for not saying it back, at least.

he walked you to your front door like normal. he gave you a goodbye and goodnight kiss like normal, he even smiled so genuinely and told you he’d call you in the morning—just like normal.

but when morning came, his call didn’t. no big deal, you thought, he’s a very busy man. once he gets some free time, he’ll call. but hours pass, and you don’t get so much as a text to apologize or let you know he was going to be late. you keep staring at his contact, debating whether or not you should bother or not for an hour or so. but a text couldn’t be too distracting, so you type something up.

‘good morning! or afternoon now, lol–i missed ur call, i hope ur having a good day!! call me when you can xx’

it doesn’t deliver. you furrow your brows and try it again, but it still doesn’t go through. you move to a different area of your house, thinking it was spotty reception in your bedroom. you try to send the text again—but it still doesn’t send. you try to call, your heart now pounding in your ears. something must have malfunctioned, right? after all your years as friends and these brief months exploring more—he wouldn’t just block you, right?

the phone call doesn’t ring, just an automated voice telling you that that the call couldn’t be completed as dialed. he blocked you. without so much as a hint to why. everything was perfect last night, he was all smiles and laughter, what could have changed? you want to call the only mutual connection you have—ieiri shoko—but decide it’s best not to involve her in the matter between two of her friends. it’s not tasteful and if there’s any chance of this being a misunderstanding, then taking it to your friends is the last thing you want to do. you could maybe ask nanami for advice at work in the morning—you wouldn’t go so far as to call them friends, but he’s how you met the strongest man alive. so he has to have some tips! yes, you’ll talk to nanami about it first thing tomorrow.

talk his ear off about it is more apt if you ask the grade one who merely dabbles in business work. he tried to be polite and listen to the tale—but your first mistake was in dealing with gojo in the first place. there was no advice in the world to fix that amount of stupid, especially if you were looking to get him back. but nanami catches the issue as soon as you recount the tale of your last conversation with the special grade.

“you told him that you love him?” he clarified with a raised brow. based on the judgment that flashes in his eyes, you know that was the wrong move. you huff in frustration.

“you introduced me to him—why would you set me up like this nanakun??” you pout, angrily folding your arms over one another. it’s a shitty attempt to take the heat off yourself, and nanami can appreciate it.

“hardly. he shoved his way in my office and you happened to be in there already.” he rolls his eyes. trust him, he did not want to see more of gojo—and dating his workplace’s secretary only meant that the annoying presence followed him even here. “i strongly advised against it. i knew we would end up here.”

you shoot him a glance, but his unamused face remains unchanging. you ignored everyone’s warnings, choosing the results he was giving you as reason enough for them to be wrong. did he enjoy leading you on and wasting his time? what was the game in all this?

“you shouldn’t have gone after him at all. but you definitely shouldn’t have told him you love him first.” nanami nearly seemed horrified. or what you imagined he would look like when horrified, eyes slightly widened and jaw dropped partially.

you bite the inside of your cheek. you didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. maybe it’s because you knew how you felt for so long. maybe it was just because satoru put you at ease—none of the reasons matter now.

“it’s hard for him to do serious. love is as serious as it gets.” nanami sighs wistfully. you were a nice girl who didn’t deserve to be another name on the list of hearts broken by satoru gojo. for your own good, you should forget all about him and sorcerers as a whole. you would be much better off. but something about that look on your face paired with the fact that he knows satoru has never been happier in his miserable existence makes nanami sigh. “he’s just afraid of committing. the only person he ever loved just up and left him one day. so just…try to let him go. let him come back if he wants—if you want. maybe then he’ll be ready.”

your heart warms at your friend’s words. it was clear he couldn’t care less if things worked out or not, but he wanted you to feel better. you smile softly at his words, “thank you nanakun, i’ll try to…let him go.”

you think you did a pretty good job of that. as time went on, you think you even managed to convince yourself you didn’t want him back at all. if he could just flake out on you—look you in the face and lie—you didn’t want him. no matter how sexy and sweet and strong he was, trust is the most important thing. you keep your head down and work hard, catching up with nanami and learning any updates on your sorcerer that way.

apparently he was casually dating around, but nothing nearly as serious as you. he made sure of that. he hadn’t heard an ‘i love you’ in years, and while he may have thought it at different times throughout the past couple of dates you’ve been on, he hadn’t said it. even thinking it was bad enough. that meant you held an unimaginable and concerning amount of power over him. that meant you could crush his soul into a million pieces. that meant you could ruin him—and he can’t go through that again. the possibility of handing himself over to deep and passionate love was beautiful in theory but terrifying in practice, and the thought of giving in just to lose a second time were odds he just wasn’t willing to gamble with.

so he did it first. if he broke your heart you couldn’t break his.

so why does he feel so bad? so empty? every pretty girl he carted around after that was a weak competitor. they were nice enough, but so shallow and boring—they treated him like everyone else. you were special. you treated him like a person. someone with feelings and dreams and regrets. you asked him questions. real questions that made him think about real answers, nothing surface level like his favorite color or movie. you wanted to know him. and he let you learn just some of his darkest days and you told him you love him anyway. and he ran away from you. goddamn. he’s his own worst enemy.

he shows up with flowers one day, six weeks after you’ve broken up—or he dumped you. it was a normal day until then, but it certainly wouldn’t be after. it was laughably large bouquet, it almost looked like he was struggling to hold it all. your eyes must look like two full moons based off of his amused yet apologetic smile. you have to make yourself stop your smile before it spreads.

“hi…” he said nervously, shifting his weight foot to foot. he messed up—how could he make up for it? “i was wondering—“

“leave.” your shaky voice manages to croak out, quickly looking down at your paperwork. you had to avoid his stare, surely he would figure you all out if he looked deep enough. nanami said to make him work for it.

“flowers aren’t your thing, huh?” he seems undeterred—in fact, he seems emboldened by your reaction. “that’s fine. i’ll leave them here…” he styles them on your desk, sweeping your stapler and pencil sharpener and organizers to the side to accommodate the large vase. you watch him carelessly move things about, forcing you to accept his gift.

“you’re annoying.” you groan, though the flowers are gorgeous. they’re the same kinds you pointed to when you went on a nature walk one time—something he swore he was going to hate but ended up being one of his favorite outings with you. you seemed to have that effect on him.

“i know! one of my better qualities, i think.” he hums happily, chlorinated pools of crystal blue stare at you over the lenses of his casual sunglasses. he traded in the blindfold in hopes of winning you back—he wasn’t above playing dirty, even if he was the reason he had to play at all.

“as opposed to? ghosting?” you raise your brow. he sighs. he doesn’t know what he expected. he knew you wouldn’t fall right back into his arms, but that biting look in your eye makes him wonder if he’s messed things up beyond repair. either way, he won’t go down without a fight.

“yes—that’s one of the bad ones.” he scrunches his nose in distaste. he bends at the waist to lean his elbows on your desk, propping his face up in his hands. “look sweetheart—“

you scoff, leaning back in your office chair with something akin to amusement. you fold your arms over your chest and arch your brow, and even though you are absolutely pissed, you still manage to make his heart skip a beat. “don’t call me that, you fucked me up. or does that it make you happier?”

“you think i’m bringing you flowers for my health or something? i’m trying to apologize!” he whines, tugging a lone flower out of the bouquet and extending it toward you. “i’m an asshole, i know, and i don’t deserve to call you sweetheart—“

“i don’t accept.” you tilt your nose in the air. he swears he can see the hint of a smirk on your lips, and he sighs. you hold the power yet again, but this time he’s going to allow it.

“what can i do to make it up to you? it was a mistake..i see that now.” he frowns, looking down at the pale pink petals brushing against his fingers.

“mm, yeah? i’m sure fucking a bunch of other women helped clear that up.” you look at the flower in his hand too, examining the brightness, the absolute perfection of the petals. it almost withers with the man holding it.

“wh-what?” he blinked rapidly. he hadn’t had sex with anyone—god no, he can’t do fleeting connections, and in his heart of hearts he knew that none of them would fill the void you left behind. but your jealousy…now that he could use. “aw, baby, just say you missed me. i could clear up some things for you too.”

you snarl at the insinuation, even more annoyed that he didn’t deny romping around with other women after dropping you like it was nothing.

“i’m sure you wish you could, baby, but i’m not sloppy seconds.” you take the flower and snap the stem, tossing it on your desk without second thought. he pouts at the gesture, deciding that words were no use on you, he hums. he knows how to handle this.

“no, but you are more delicious the second time.” he sings, and you get up from your desk in frustration. he was so irritating. did he think that he could just disappear on you like that and you’d just forgive him like nothing? you huff up at him, gathering all your stuff and shoving it into your office bag. nanami watches from the stairs—and he’s proud that you’re making gojo work for it, at least.

you stomp out of the office building with all the theatrics at your disposal, and it only makes satoru smirk as he walks after you. god you want him so bad, he thinks. he catches the office door before you can slam it closed behind you, sliding his palm across the wooden panels with a suave coolness. it’s like he has the situation completely under control, strolling leisurely after the little lady stomping and yelling at him over her shoulder. he knows he fucked up, and if you wanted to blast him through the city on your route home, then he’d smile and walk dumbly after you.

your heart was racing. he was still following you—and you knew if he cornered you alone, there would be no denying him. your brain was fighting hard enough to deny him back in the office already. your blood is boiling. why do you want him back so bad? he left you—is sleeping with other women, even, and you're letting him tail you to your house. you shut the door on him, but he just teleports into your living room anyways. you give him a look—not sure what else to say. ordering him out would be futile—as you didn’t want him to and he clearly wouldn’t obey.

he’s smug, sitting on your couch with one long leg crossed over the other one, his arm stretched across the back of the couch like he���s just waiting to put it around you. he stares at you knowingly, but that smirk is driving you insane.

“stop looking at me like that—and get out of my house.” you try meekly, at least you could say you could. your eyes narrow at his unmoving form and he can’t help but chuckle a little bit.

“you’re trying so hard to be mad at me, sweetheart.” he hums, arching a brow in amusement. he bats those long white eyelashes at you like he’s just ready for you to admit the truth and come crumble in his lap.

“i’m pissed, not trying that hard at all.” you scoff and shake your head, tossing your bag on the floor so that you may properly cross your arms at him. “you lied to my face, ghosted me, and now you’re acting like i’m being ridiculous for not accepting your flowers and taking you back?”

he shakes his head, a little nonchalant frown on his face. “you aren’t ridiculous for that—“ he stands and makes his way to you, not even bothering to hide the way he eyes you up and down. “you’re ridiculous for pretending you don’t want to. i could make this allll better if you’d just let me, sweetheart.”

his breath is as icy as his eyes when he leans down, brow arched like he’s asking a question. he is, you realize, he wants to know if you’ll let him.

“i never really slept with anyone, sweetheart. promise. was just trying to get you off my mind. didn’t work—made everything worse, actually. i got what i deserved.” he sighs softly, noting the hesitation on your face but the want in your eyes. he reaches a tentative hand to your face, giving you a soft smile when you let him touch you. “i’m sorry…you’re all i can think about. i just got nervous—i’m so stupid. beyond stupid—“

you smash your lips onto his to keep him from yapping. all he had to do was apologize. really apologize and mean it—but you would still punish him for walking away. you would make sure he could never do it again, lest he’ll never be able to get you out of his head even in death.

his hands grab at your dress, pulling you against his body in one fluid motion. the kiss changes moods entirely. the room feels like it’s buzzing now, his passion felt through the way he moves. he slides over your ass, kneading and fisting the fat with a groan into your mouth. you step into him, backing him to the couch. he grins against your lips like always—his kiss was warm and apologetic, lips hurriedly slotting over yours in an effort to make up for his transgressions.

he falls into a seat, pulling you into his lap with him. he sees your plan, and won’t go down without a fight. he promised to straighten you out after all. but letting you think you’re in charge was adorable, so he didn’t mind to indulge in it. you push his chest back with your own, grabbing his chin in your hand roughly. his back hits the couch and he can’t hold back his little giggle as his hands follow the paths of your body, though a satisfied hum follows at the feeling.

“you are sorry—a sorry piece of shit.” you huff, repeatedly kissing him over and over with all the anger you’ve been pinning up for the past few weeks without him. he grunts lowly, opening his mouth to invite you deeper. you take his willingness as a gift, plunging your tongue in his mouth and making sure yours stays in control. he tastes like honey and cinnamon, and it was a taste you missed more than you let yourself believe.

“pieces of shit must be your type though.” he sasses, standing up with you on his lap. he knows where your room is based on his extensive stays over, it’s nearly muscle memory for him to kick your door open with the point of his shoe, smiling up at you like no time had passed —like no bad blood had resulted from it. he throws you down like you weigh nothing, though he takes a seat on the side. upon hearing you gasp at his words, he scoffs and shakes his head. “don’t even think about it. i’ll fuck it out of you anyway.”

you can’t deny the way your body tingles and warms at his command. he’s usually soft and sweet, just rough enough to satisfy any cravings of yours—but he never struck obedience into your soul. your mouth closes, and he chuckles a little bit at your change. “that’s better. now if you wanna keep poppin’ off with attitude, i’ll get nasty instead of the sweet apology i planned for you.”

you roll your eyes, he was testing it. “don’t tempt me—“ you huff, a little annoyed at how easily your body gives up. you didn’t want to give him the ego boost of obedience, so you give him the attitude requested. “you messed up—i’ll talk to you however I want—“

he sighs and tugs at you, pulling your body at will. he splays you across his lap—long legs hanging over the edge of your bed. your dress is shoved up over your ass, and the tiny string of your thong is drawn back and snapped against the flesh. it makes you squeal a little in surprise, but you would be lying to say you didn’t want more.

“oh i’m a piece of shit, who are these for, nyeh?” he flicks your panties again, the sensation a small pleasurable sting.

“you dumped me—they’re for whoever i want.” you huff at him, even if his jealousy makes your heart warm. he slaps the fat of your ass lightly, humming at the way you jolt.

“yeah?” he smacks your other side, “i didn’t fuck anybody though. knew i needed you.” he spanks the same spot, the sting intensifies so wonderfully and makes your head spin. you can’t help the little moans that leave you with every slap.

“didn’t fuck anybody either, dickhead.” you pant, tossing him a glare over your shoulder. his free hand comes to grab your throat, sinewy warm and soft fingers wrap around your column with a tight grip—though not enough to restrict any airflow, of course. his cock stabs into your side at the sight. he grins brightly, almost sadistic in nature.

“you’re silly.” he hums, squeezing your throat until your eyes cross a little. he hums at you, the vision enough to make him painfully hard, but he always knows when to let up. he slaps your ass in conjunction with his little squeeze. he knows how to keep your eyes on him— repeatedly shaking his head, like he disapproves of you. “so pretty though. but mouthy.” he tsks, giving you a punishing spank to your tender skin. he hums pleasantly at the way your skin breaks a little, his red handprints making their way to the surface. “can’t even accept an apology. what do you want me to do, sweetheart?”

you can’t deny the wetness pooling in that skimpy thong. the stinging through your ass only makes your brain fog worsen, need was the only thing on your mind. he was so strong and sexy, and he was trying to make it up to you. you suppose you could…hear him out. that didn’t mean you were back together.

“fuck me—i’ll make my decision based on your performance.” you purr in his lap, wiggling your branded ass. he groans, you’re going to tease when you look like this? he woulda proposed if you asked him to if it meant you were all his again. commitment didn’t scare him so much anymore. you were as angry as ever and you still smiled when you saw him. you still let him follow you back home to plead his case. even if you didn’t have much a choice, you hardly even put up a fight. and he knew what that meant: you weren’t nearly as angry as you were trying to be.

“oh i’ll fuck you, sweetheart. let’s see if you can take it.” he hums so innocently, scooting you off his lap and onto all fours. he slides your thong to the side, laughing giddily at the sight of your soaking cunt. you definitely weren’t as mad as you were trying to be. “god look at this ocean—i almost feel bad for ya. trying to be such a meanie t’me when i’m the only one that can make it better.”

he wrestles with his pants, pushing them to his knees with haste. precious time was ticking, and stripping completely was a waste of it. he nearly sighs in relief when he frees himself, pumping his length fluidly. you whine at the time it’s taking him to fuck you, wiggling your cute rear and huffing.

“takin’ too long—“ you can’t finish your sentence before you cry out, his cock splitting you open just as you asked for. your walls felt like coming home, and every squeeze you give him was like a warm hug. he can’t believe he denied himself this for weeks just because you said something he’d been dying to hear from someone who meant it his entire life.

“better?” he asks, using your plush hips as his handlebars. this was why you would never be able to move on from him no matter the advice and warnings and every sign in the world telling you ‘no satoru gojo!’ he was just too good, he knew you all too well and your body craved and needed him like water. he fit in your cunt like he was built to, every pump of his cock left you gripping the sheets in an effort to hold yourself up, which you can only do for a few more seconds. “what, too hard? i thought you wanted to be fucked, little one?”

you’re stuck in a silent scream, unable to answer him. you feel like you can feel him in your lungs, his hips absolutely bullying yours. he admires your deep arch even though you’ve fallen forward, your ass rippling into his pubic hair so perfectly he had to reward you with some grunts and groans of his own. he lays over your back, cooing his praises in your ear.

“there she goes, now she’s taking good dick. can’t believe you almost wasted a thong like this— good thing i stay around, yeah?” he shoves your forward just a bit, off his cock and face first into your pillows. you whine at the loss, but he flattens your legs and sits on top of them—squeezing his cock between your thighs and ass, guiding his dick back in. you mewl at the new sensation. how could he possibly be deeper? “awww, that’s a good girl. letting me fuck ya like i hate ya when i’m just trying to prove that i love you too.”

you clench when he says it, moans intensifying as he uses you in this new position. he smirks, you’re adorable. laying there screaming for him with a gorgeously painted ass and a perfect body taking all the force behind his thrusts. “you still love me, sweetheart?”

you nod eagerly, your moans borderline animalistic. “yes—fuck, yes i do, i love you satoru!” you feel him so deeply in your stomach that you can’t keep holding back. it felt like a rubber band snapped as you squeeze around him and cover him with your essence. he keeps going, eyes trained on your recoil and the white ring you left at the base of his cock. your confirmation only drives him crazier, your limp body beneath him taking his increased pace like a champ—little overstimulated moans the only sound he can hear.

“gonna cum in this pretty pussy to show you how much i love you.” he groans, picking your body up in one strong arm to hold you down on his cock. you feel the rush of heat and shudder, the fact he was willing to deal with the consequences of cumming inside alone made you want more of him—until he couldn’t cum anymore. he holds you up, luckily enough— you wouldn’t be able to do it yourself—and places soft kisses to your neck. he hums, enjoying the taste of your skin slightly sweaty and warm from his love. he stays inside you, he can’t bring himself to move just yet, but he sighs in content.

“so…we back together?”

[crimsonbubble]

141+Vaqueros with Fem or GN reader

How they react to reader wearing one of their shirts maybe with only panties underneath (or maybe without 🫢”

cw. suggestive, gn!reader *not proofread, just pure brainrot

[honestly felt kinda brain dead while writing this 🧍🏻‍♂️🧍🏻‍♂️ also this format is weird but idc enough to fix it 😭😭😭]

soap, gaz and rudy short circuit

like there's smth about see you in their clothes that does smth for them

whether it's loose or tight fit, it doesn't matter

as long as it's their shirt on you, they're going nuts

though soap is a lot more chaotic

so he's kinda all over you

like his hands are roaming all over your hips and waist and he's leaving kisses on your neck

and maybe even nipping at your skin a bit

gaz is slightly calmer than soap but he's still so handsy

rudy is full of compliments

he's dishing them out left, right and center when he sees what your wearing

who know, maybe he'll see what's under the shirt too

ghost, price and alejandro are more suave

but ghost and alejandro are a heaping handful of suave with that hint of choas

price got old man rizz istfg

but anyways, ghost

I feel like most of his clothes would be big on almost everyone

but that makes it better bc now you can wear any one his clothes and they'll most probably be oversized or at least a little baggy

for price and ghost, there's something so sensual yet domestic about you wearing their clothes

like they have mixed feelings about wanting to hold and kiss you but also break your bed and your back 🫶🫶

[existentialterror]

ARG notes: ZampanioSim, part 2

Hey guys. catfishAnabasis (Light) here, continuing my… uh, ZampanioSim Let’s Play? That’s dumb. My investigation into the Homestuck/Magnus Archives/House of Leaves-inspired alternate reality game ZampanioSim. Read Part 1 first.

Now we have the bare minimum on Zampanio Sim’s format. Actually, we don’t know much and it’s constantly changing, but we at least have an idea of what we’re in for. Cool.

What is the story unfolding within Zampanio Sim?

So we know from the Classpect Menu game, the one that “is” ZampanioSim, that this was an effort to simulate a now-deleted game from the 1970s called Zampanio, based on a now-lost* FAQ on how to play it. At some point, possibly just search engines, I have learned that Eyedol Games is the company that makes Zampanio. Let’s take that going in.

*dubious

A lot of the “routes” off the house at the start of ZampanioSim – see the diagram – are procedurally generated places to explore or are otherwise collections of content. But other have a more directly obvious narrative to them. I have marked these places here.

Let’s go. We'll start... Uh...

…

(Okay, so there’s a recurring meme in ZampanioSim about whether personality-typing you based on whether you traverse labyrinths clockwise or counterclockwise.

But I’m confused about which one that means – like if I’m looking at a drawing of a labyrinth top-down, and I go from the entrance to the right passage, I guess I’m going counterclockwise. But if I were standing in a physical maze, the clockways framing wouldn’t occur to me – I mean, they’re both chiral processes, but like, the hand of a clock moves to the right, so which reference am I taking?

Maybe I’m not cut out for labyrinths. When I’m caving in minecraft I go to the right, so if I’m coming back into the house through the north door, then... I guess:)

We’ll start with the non-existent West Route (accessible by clicking on the west side of the house, where you’d expect a door to be.)

AdventureSimWest

AdventureSimWest is an audience-participation adventure game that, like Problem Sleuth or Early Homestuck, takes suggested commands from an audience that guide a character, and the author tells a story around it. This one has been running for quite some time, so there’s a lot of backlogged material!

AdventureSimWest gives us a lot of info right away. It’s about a character named Peewee, who is hired by Eyedol Games. Peewee and the staff of Eyedol Games are trapped inside a Space Loop. A Space Loop is like a Time Loop except that once you die, physical space (within the loop) and many of the circumstances reset, but its point in time is… not fixed. Peewee is a snakelike alien called a lamia. He first appeared in a different SBURBlike game on FarragoFiction.com called Farragnarok, which he remembers but which I don’t know anything about. He is a COOL GAMER who has lived various other lives including through the destruction of his home planet, Segundia. Keep in mind that he is from a SBURBlike.

Oh, hey, according to an offhand exchange in AdventureSimWest, solving mazes by following the righthand wall means you’re going counterclockwise. Everyone jot that down. We can bootstrap this. We can do this.

I read up through the “JR Rambles about Spoilers” interlude. And it was fun! It’s Peewee’s quirky, haphazard series of adventures in a quirky, sharp universe. The style is fun, self-aware and whimsical. I don’t know how much about the AdventureSimWest lore applies to mainstream Zampanio, especially given the multilayered narrative Zampanio serves up to us like a delicious but concerningly non-Euclidean cake, but some of the characters and concepts appear in other places, and so the worldbuilding might too. Here are some things we learn about the world of AdventureSimWest:

Peewee arrived here from his old universe by jumping into a giant, spiky, magical wall of flesh called an Echidna. He’s actually one of the set of gods who created this universe, but seems to be the only one left.

People central to the space loop remember the space loop exists.

Eyedol Games may have caused or be causing the space loop, but does not appear to be completely in control of it.

The space loop started in 1971 and is spiraling towards the end of the world in 2022.

Eyedol has other employees, including:

Wanda, the “CEBro” and “Lord of Space” (homestuck classpect). She’s tremendously rad and maybe a shapeshifter.

The Intern, a college-aged dude from Ohio, who Wanda is always trying to find and who seems unexpectedly critical to the existence of Eyedol Games. (I might apply a little homestuck logic and guess that he’s the “Muse of Time”, but this is my own speculation.)

The Closer, an aggressive businesslady in a suit and cape

Someone called the Eye Killer, who, like, lives in Eyedol’s basement and kills people.

Flower Chick, some kind of identity-stealing fae, who keeps a copy of Peewee’s skull on her desk.

Quotidians, which are another alien species – these ones are shapeshifting crows and are a hivemind. Many of them are named Tom.

Parker, a “waste”, who has made his business out of learning glitches, hacking, etc, in reality itself.

There are also just two other teams of people who don’t work at Eyedol Games, who both got ejected into some kind of infinite labyrinth around the same time. They have kind of SCP energy. I don’t know what their deal is. Yet.

What about that FAQ?

The mysterious lost ZampanioFAQ actually exists, more or less.

When I found it, it felt like natural game progression: I beat the Classpect Menu game, then there got a link to the official Discord. Then buried in one of the Discord channels, one of the pinned links goes to – yes – THE Zampanio FAQ.

But then it turned out the thing I’d found a link to was a fan-made transcript (by @verbosebabbler) of a different “official” ZampanioFAQ PDF. And through various link-hopping, most of which I now forget, I also found the original PDF on a different website by JR. So I don’t know if I got there the way I was “supposed to” or where else I might otherwise have found the FAQ. But we’re here now!

(The official discord, by the way, does not have talk permissions open in any channel. They are all frozen conversations from years ago, with only a spare few used threads acting as the actual usable channels. So the discord is its own labyrinth too. ITS A-MAZE-ING)

Okay. The ZampanioFAQ. In the frontnote to the FAQ, JR describes this finding a printout of fic they'd read long ago, and sharing it as evidence that they did not invent Zampanio – that this is a sburbsim/glitchFAQ (we’ll get to that, hang tight) crossover fanfic by someone else that they read once, lost, and recently re-found - and that it has a couple indications that it’s referencing Zampanio.

Mostly, contentwise, this FAQ is sort of a interuniversal document about how to play SBURB (the universe-creation game that the characters in Homestuck play), written by a group of players. The Zampanio FAQ has, unfortunately, been heavily redacted by interdimensional forces, perhaps SBURB itself.

It’s like it’s written by a new set of characters who are playing their own game of Sburb. They’re learning about it as they experience it! Haha, that’s a cute gimmick.

Oh, the skull? Yeah, don’t worry about that. Hah, no, I get how it looks. But it's actually totally fine.

The redacted words in the ZampanioFAQ seem mostly to do with certain details of SBURB itself, like SBURB is trying to keep its players from spoilers.

Drawing from VerboseBabbler’s transcript and partial de-redaction of the FAQ, I gave my hand at making what sense I could out of the original PDF.

Excerpt. You may not like it, but this is peak ARG performance: multiple collaborative layers of nested PDF annotation.

--------------

Trying to fill in these blanks made me appreciate the potential of the fan-ARG.

Homestuck is a story that both rewards a lot of knowledge about its worldbuilding and also often doesn't explain itself – I think that’s why it has such intense fanwork, because it implies so much but leaves you to fill in the gaps.

Like, okay, classpects, alright? Fans make a big deal about classpecting and it’s cool but it’s also kind of nothing, like, we get some gestures about what it means but not much. (Quick, what does a mage do?) There’s so much fanon trying to make sense of it that even the wiki explanation is based on fanon. But fanon can be dope and people have done some really, really neat stuff bouncing off of the gaps in canon.

ZampanioSim is about nested realities and missing information, and it's heavily based on specific fanworks of homestuck. And filling in missing information on this document, I could use my knowledge of Homestuck to make inferences about this related-but-separate storyline and worldbuilding. That’s so cool!

In the same way that the best fanfiction draws from and interacts repeatedly with canon, the fan-ARG can act as a commentary on or a dialogue with its sources - a story made stronger by connection to another.

There have been other fan ARGs and this is really my first experience with the genre (well - does EverymanHYBRID count as a fanwork? discuss), but like, holy shit, I get it now.

-----------------

Okay, let’s regroup. So the FAQ is a bunch of advice written collaboratively by a group of people playing SBURB. The FAQ is about a kind of SBURB that is very similar to the one in Homestuck – but it’s even more similar to another game on the FarragoFiction website, SBURBsim, which is “is a fanmade browser simulation” of SBURB.

In SBURBsim, you can throw in a randomly-generated or customized set of characters into their own session, and SBURBsim will invent plotlines, fights, character progression, romance, alchemy, time travel shenanigans, and more, eventually telling you a story about how that session might go. It is mind-bogglingly ornate and cool, check it out.

Okay, anyway, so the game described in the FAQ is mostly Sburb-y but has some clear Farrago/SburbSIM elements in the form of the fan-classes – wastes, graces, smiths, and more. But it has some stuff that feels more Homestuck-classic-SBURB, like in the FAQ [EDIT: SBURBsim] there’s a convention where all the randomly generated player-usernames have the same initials as their classpects, so like the session’s Bard of Time might have the username belugaTrainer or belligerentTriangle or whatever, which isn’t a thing in Homestuck nor in the FAQ. It also adds a few elements all its own, like that there’s a recognized pantheon of gods who have sway over the rules of the universe, with their own usernames and classpects.

(Hey, synthesizing that with some background Homestuck knowledge + what we’ve learned from AdventureSimWest, I think the ‘gods’ are the players whose Sburb session created the ones that the FAQ authors were born into. Elegant!)

Oh yeah, as JR mentions, the Zampanio FAQ also takes heavy and pseudo-explicit inspiration from a fanfiction called the Sburb Glitch FAQ, a sprawling fanwork I haven’t read that’s sort of a game guide and technical manual to SBURB. Maybe more of this is references to that, I don’t know.

(Sidenote, Rose’s GameFAQ was one of my favorite plot points in Homestuck. I’m only sorry it wasn’t used more. So I’m delighted to see all these fanworks that took inspiration from it.)

So okay whether the FAQ players are more playing OG-SBURB, or SBURBsim, or a game that has aspects of both – well, they’re all pretty similar, I don’t’ think we need to split hairs. This document is an in-universe survival guide for a SBURBlike.

You know what it’s not particularly like? ZampanioSim, the game it supposedly inspired!

This is so fun to me. SBURBsim existed long before ZampanioSim. If you were going to make a simulator game based on the Zampanio FAQ, that game would be SBURBsim. But SBURBsim was already a thing! JR knows this – they worked on SBURBsim! Their sburbsona is on the about page!

They mention this in the introduction to the “found scanned printout” of the FAQ - they initially read it deeply to figure out, through the redaction, if it was a fanwork for their own project (SBURBsim). They write:

this is obvs JUST the faq, not any of the like, description or author name or all that shit that eventually lead me down the rabbit hole. like, you could find the missing sections in this weird ...not arg? I don't THINK? and they started talking about things like the achievement system and shit, stuff that stuck with me a lot more if what i chose to focus on in zampaniosim is any indication. still. having a record of the START of this branch is better than nothing

So, okay, the FAQ itself is not explicitly Zampanio. We’re missing the description and whatever else that’s supposedly out there somewhere, as lost media. I tried to find some reason to think the fic was supposedly out of time, like that it would have been from before SBURBsim was made, but there isn't any - everything lines up with what JR said in the forward.

So I think maybe reading so far into the FAQ without that other supposed metadata was a great time and, yes, sold me on a new art form, but it wasn’t that productive in terms of the broader Zampanio story.

... Or was it?

I've connected the dots

There was a reference somewhere – I think in the South route, though I can’t swear to it – that was pretty outright something like “JR added Magnus Archives elements to Zampanio because of an at-the-time obsession with the Spiral from TMA.” Now, some stuff like the south route is less in-character than in other places, so I don’t want to necessarily say that everything like that will “carry through” to the rest of canon, if that makes sense. But it helps put those pieces together, so here’s my running theory:

In the story, Zampanio is a memeplex that moves and spreads between dimensions - very diverse multiple dimensions, including different fictional worlds. (Think the Big Bad in There Is No Antimemetics Division - effecting "universes which embed ours as fiction".) Sort of a psychic prion that goes around twisting orderly systems and punching its way between meta-layers. The core of it stays similar between - it has a predilection for spirals, mazes, meta bullshit, and games - but some of the specifics change from instance to instance.

Zampanio probably spread rampant among this constellation of Sburb universes, perhaps because Zampanio is affiliated with games and Sburb universe is a game. (Or at least uses a game to reproduce.) It’s a great carrier. From there, Zampanio rode into our universe on the back of the FAQ. (Game FAQs being a known way to throw information between Sburb dimensions, in Homestuck.)

JR took the seed that came with the FAQ and instantiated Zampanio in this universe, and added their own compatible TMA-spiral flavoring to it.

(This also lines up with another cool aspect of Zampanio, which is that if you make your own fan-work or fan-story about Zampanio, that’s canon too. It is impossible to gamejack this. Thus far I’m focusing on JR’s ZampanioSim canon, but there are other people out there putting their own spins on it, which are also canon.)

Questions I have now, if that theory is true:

What other aspects of ZampanioSim carry on between versions?

Is Eyedol necessarily associated with the Zampanio memeplex? Does or did it actually create ZampanioSim in some causal way?

Does the Space Loop that occurs in AdventureSimWest have ramifications or equivalents in other instances of Zampanio?

Why does Zampanio like games so much? (Is it because interactive games are a convenient way to punch through from one dimension to the fictional dimension within it?)

There are comments about someone, maybe Eyedol, trying to scrub the ZampanioFAQ from the internet (in our dimension). Why would they want that?

What’s the other missing metadata that would have associated the ZampanioFAQ with Zampanio?

Who wrote the ZampanioFAQ? Was it written (...IC) as a fanwork of SBURBsim or did it “come from a SBURB universe”? Who censored it?

Aw man. And there's still so much I haven't even gotten into.

Like, okay, do you guys know gopher? It’s an early alternative to HTTP as a way of organizing the internet that was mostly sidelined, but a few servers are still around.

Apparently there’s a bunch more Zampanio stuff only accessible via Gopher and I’m going to have to figure out how to use it.

Thanks, JR, YOU MAD SORCERER.

So, that's where I'm at vis a vis ZampanioSim. I gotta get back to my own stuff for right now, but thank you ZampanioSim discord for helping blaze trails and mostly to JR for weaving such a wonderful weird mystery.

If you have questions or comments you want me to talk about in a future one of these, my ask box is open.* Also, if you get into ZampanioSim yourself, feel free to say hi on the discord.**

*(okay I know people have been involved in this for years and I’m still mostly trying to formulate my own opinions about what’s going on, so if you know something that’s like “an actual answer” and want to share, then consider phrasing it as an ominous clue instead of telling me outright – but I’m under the strong impression that this is an ARG where there’s not gonna be like a canonical underlying “answer” to a lot of things so, you know, do what brings you joy.)

**Your first challenge is to find the discord. I wanna be cryptic too!

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter Three - Raindrops and Goodbyes

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SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Talks about past (bad) Caregivers, talks about fear of abandonment, some heavy negative feelings, comparing oneself to others, fluff but ends in some angst, Bub eats, food mentioned, Bub cries 

Word Count - 1751

Note - Sorry this took so long to get out! Things got hectic, and crappy, and I haven't been able to edit, or format, or really write lately! Luckily things are going well and I won't start school till the 16th so I'm hoping to get some stuff out in the next week or so! Part four will be posted tomorrow! I can't leave us on a sad note for too long! I just can't!!

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Y/n always hated wearing her yellow raincoat, the material feeling odd against her skin, and the crinkle of the fabric was never music to her ears. But on days like this, grey skies and heavy raindrops falling to the ground, she had no choice but to suit up. Her matching rain boots on, allowing her to splash in any puddle she felt needed to be played in. 

As she neared the Cafe she got excited, Bucky said they would go to the park today, and although it’s running she has hopes that he’ll let them go anyways, her umbrella overhead creating enough of a dry patch to maybe, at the least, run around in the mud without catching a nasty cold. 

“Mr!” She cheered as she walked in, something she did every time she saw him sat at his usual table, early as always. “I has something for you!” She smiled big as she unzipped the front pocket of her backpack “Here.” Her smile grew as Bucky’s mirrored hers, the small baggie with flowers printed on it full of chocolate chip cookies her pride and joy. 

“You made these?” 

“Yes!” Y/n says still standing, ready to leave for the park wherever Bucky is ready. Shifting her weight from one foot to another, growing impatient. “All on my own!” She cheered, proud of her baked goods. “Park now?” Bub asked, her smile still huge, both hands grasping the straps of her bag, now back on her back. 

“It’s raining, Bub.” Bucky frowned, causing Bub to mirror his expression. “But we’ll go next time, okay?” He asked, his hands immediately helping Y/n out of her raincoat, the buttons soon undone. 

“But you promised?” Y/n frowned, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I wanted to go to d’park.” Y/n held back her tears, though she wished to stomp her foot and throw a small fit, she didn’t know Bucky well enough to truly let him see her little side completely. So instead she fixed her clothing after her coat had been taken off and sat in her usual seat. 

“I know I promised, Bub.” She smiled at the nickname. “But I brought us a fun game to play today.” He was quickly making her forget about the park trip altogether, now excited to see whatever game he had brought. She hoped it wasn’t UNO, she sucked at that. “Here.” He said as he placed a game on the table, the pink and blue of Candyland making Y/n let out a small squeal. 

“I love Candyland!” She grabbed the box and bounced in her seat. “Can we play now?” She asked, her eyes turning to Bucky, him already looking at her. “Please?” She added on for good measure. 

The moment he nodded his head she opened the box, pulling all the pieces out. “Why don’t you set it up, and I get us some snacks?” Bucky asked, Y/n didn’t even look up at him, but nodded her head. Too busy pulling out the different characters. 

Y/n didn’t know how long it took Bucky to get snacks, but by the time he got back to the table she had created a whole plot amongst the characters and their kingdoms. “Here, Bub.” Bucky said as he placed a plate on the table. It was more than the usual cake pop he got her, though one still sat on the plate. This time he got vegetables and dip, some goldfish, and a cup of juice. 

“Thank you, Mr.” Y/n smiled up at him, grabbing a celery stick and dipping it. “Can I be the ice cream cone?” She asked, showing him the character she had in her hand. Bucky nodded but stayed sitting. “You need’a pick a lil guy.” She pointed to the characters situated around the board. 

“Right.” He said, his expression growing serious as he looked each one over. “I’ll pick this one, he looks tough.” Y/n broke out into a fit of giggles, the marshmallow definitely not a ‘tough guy’. 

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They got to playing the game, Y/n winning two times in a row. She wasn’t surprised, while she knew it was all down to luck, she had played the game a ton of times so clearly the Candyland gods liked her more than Bucky. “Are you cold bub?” Bucky asked her, making her realise she was shivering slightly.

She knew not bringing a sweater might be a bad idea, but she thought they were going to the park. “Um, yeah.” She nodded then shrugged her shoulders. She hoped he wouldn’t make her go back home and get one, she only had so much time in a day to spend at the cafe. “Bu’ I’m all good, can we play again?” She asked, moving their pieces back to the star. 

“Yeah we can play again, just wait a second.” Bucky stood up, she wondered where he was going, but instead of leaving to grab something or go to the bathroom he stood at the side of her booth with a black sweater in hand. “Hands up, Bub.” He said, holding the sweater out. 

“I don’ need your sweater, wha’ if yous get cold?” She asked, not sure if her being so comfortable around Bucky her little side couldn’t help but come out now was a good thing or a bad thing. While she was 100% sure Bucky was a safe guy to be around, she didn’t want to get too attached to him just in case. 

“I won’t get cold.” He answered in a softer voice. She knew he was special, that’s what everyone in the newspapers said, that he’s indestructible. But she’d hate to be the person who gave a super soldier a cold because she took his sweater. “Bub.” His voice drew her out of her worrying. He was now crouched down so they were eye level. “I won’t get cold, but you’re shivering.” He didn’t wait for her to put her arms up, instead just putting it over her head and waiting for her to put her arms through on her own.

“Tanks.” Bub murmured, looking at Bucky with a small smile. She was thankful for the sweater, now warm, but she still worried that she was too much to handle. He had given her a lot, crayons, colouring pages, so much of his time, and now his sweater. She hadn’t given him anything but cookies that she hoped tasted okay. 

“Why don’t we play again?” Bucky asked as he settled back into his seat. “I can feel it, I’m going to win this one.” He teased, she shook her head, he had no clue that the Candyland gods were on her side, and she hoped he would never know. 

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Y/n frowned as she saw Bucky pacing around outside. It had stopped raining but he said that they should wait till a sunny day to go out, because ‘everything would be slippery’. Buck’s phone had rung five hours ago, well maybe two minutes ago, but it felt like forever as she just watched him pace with an unhappy look on his face. 

She grabbed the last few goldfish and got back to her colouring, when she had won for a third time Bucky had to quit, saying his ego couldn’t handle anymore. Y/n giggled at the memory. 

The doorbell rang out and she quickly turned, though her smile turned back into a frown when she saw Bucky’s sad expression. “I’m sorry, I have to go, Bub.” He said, his sad words said in a kind tone. 

“Oh, otay.” Y/n answered, watching him pack up his things. “Will you be back tomorrow?” She asked, her crayons laid on the table instead of in her hands. 

Bucky sighed, then sat down, his hands clasped on the table. “I’m going to be gone until next wednesday.” Y/n’s back straightened up, he’d be gone for nine days. That was a lot of time to be gone, and a lot of time for him to think and change his mind about her. 

“Oh, do you, do you wan’ your sweater back?” She asked, wiggling her hands out of the sleeves before Bucky got to her. His hands covering hers, a painful smile on his face. 

“You can keep it, I’ll get it back when I come back okay?” Y/n nodded. “I’ll put my phone number in your phone, and I’ll text you if I’m going to be back later than wednesday, okay?” She nodded her head, at least he wasn’t just up and leaving, he was giving her a point of contact if needed. She handed him her phone, watching as he took forever to type out his name and number. It was a little silly to watch. “I won’t be able to text or call you while I’m away.” He admitted. “But you can text me all you want and I’ll read them when I’m back.” Bucky offered, though she knew she wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t bother him while he was away, she knew people hated that. 

She just nodded her head, watching him as he put his coat and backpack on. “Stay safe.” She whispered as he stood in front of her, ready to leave. 

“And you be good, Bub.” Bucky whispered back, and then he was gone. She watched him get into his jeep and drive away. She knew her mind was being silly when she couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t come back, but it didn’t mean it stopped that train of thought. 

She knew deep down that he had to leave, he didn’t want to, but he had to. She knew he wasn’t like the other people who became her friends and then left and never came back, she knew that, somewhere in her mind she knew that. But she still couldn’t help it as a few tears slipped down her cheeks as she cleaned up. She couldn’t help but let out a small sad noise as she put on her coat, and she couldn’t help but sob the moment she got home and into bed. 

“He had to go save people, he was needed by the world because he's a good guy, that’s why he left.” She whispered to herself all night, but she still felt as though he had left because of something she did.

[wh0relibrarian]

sunshine

a/n: a continuation of this post, although altered to be a summer break instead of winter. completely got lost in that 😭 please excuse any informalities, i’m still getting used to writing in second person (or smut for that matter), and tumblrs post format! so don’t be mean ;(

context (if you don't want to read the previous post): Reader is visiting her hometown for the summer. A rising grad student who just so happens to bump into Sukuna at the airport. After quick introductions, he gives her his number in case she gets too lonely...

content ahead: southern sukuna au, black coded!reader, afab!reader, d referred to as dick bc i don’t like using “cock”, v referred to as cunt or pussy, age gap (reader in her early 20s, sukuna is in his early 30s), cowgirl, daddy kink, rough!sukuna (but he’s still a softie), needy!reader, clit stimulation, nicknames such as sweetheart, princess, baby/babydoll, creampie, ass/face slaps, lots of praise, a decent amount of plot

word count: 3.9k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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You’ve been texting Sukuna for a week now. Off and on, trying not to seem too interested, but interested enough to keep his attention. It sucked that he was a man very obviously out of touch with technology, because you can’t find pictures of him anywhere. Not even a Facebook page. You’ve just been grasping at straws, trying to remember each detail of his face. Each tattoo. You didn’t even get enough time to admire the one’s on his face, way too engulfed in his general appearance.

And oh, Sukuna. That poor man. He knew from the moment he saw you that you’d keep him up at night. From the curvature of your lips— only being the opening act to the beautiful smile you had hidden beneath. He tries to remember what color your shirt was, but can only remember how plump your tits looked. Practically spilling out of a… tank top? Or maybe it was a crop top. You had a jacket on, which he knows was gray because you kept trying to wrap it around your waist like you were embarrassed by your body. He couldn’t figure out why, though. You’re beautiful from head to toe, every part of you.

But today, today was the day you’d ask him to take you out. Or just ask to go out in general. Hell, you’d take anything at this point.

You: Hiii Sukuna. How’s your wrist feeling? I know a couple days ago you said it was progressively getting worse, any updates?

Sukuna: Hey babydoll. I think it’s all good now. Nothin a lil icyhot can’t fix. How are you?

You: I’m happy to hear that :) and I’m okay, just bored, per usual.

Sukuna: Ya know I’m always around.

You: It’s funny you mention that… I was wondering if you were busy later today? Or tonight. Either or, whatever works best for you. If you would even want to do anything of course.

Sukuna: City girl finally ready to get some sunshine?

You: Don’t make fun of me 😑

Sukuna: Oh I’d never do such a thing. Are you free right now? My lunch break’s comin up, could use the company.

You: Yes I am! I can be ready in 15, I’ll send my address.

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You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be. You know you looked good, you felt good. You put on a casual outfit, just a pair of bell bottoms and some old t-shirt your mom left around. This wasn’t a date, and you didn’t want to scare him, so you treated it like a normal hang out with a friend.

He picked you up in an old pickup truck, run down from the years spent riding on dirt roads and an occasional swamp. (Things can get messy the further south you go.) It was normal where you’re from to have at least one beat up truck per household, so his car was not a problem. You were all smiles, nearly skipping your way to the passenger side. Sukuna rolled down the window and he too had a bright toothy smile plastered on his face. It almost looked malicious, but you overlooked it once you got in. Something about his presence had you in a trance, you couldn’t focus on anything else but him.

When you opened the door, he stretched his arm out to help you into the chair. You made it a point to act as if you were struggling to get in and shut the door, nerves suddenly keeping you from wanting to look him straight in the eye. “Damn sweetheart… just look at you,” he said while leaning his body back, taking a moment to take in your appearance. “Hiii Sukuna, you aren’t too bad yourself,” you said giggling.

“We’re just goin’ up to Milo’s, hope that’s luxury enough for ya.”

“You think I came dressed like this for somethin’ luxury?”

“Well if that ain’t luxury, I’d be curious to see what is.”

Smirking, Sukuna went back to putting his full focus on the road. The butterflies in your stomach had died down, finding his presence incredibly inviting and safe. You were looking out the window for a while, until his hand found yours which was resting on your thigh. You turn around to him surprised, only to see his eyes still trained on the road in front of him. His hand clasped yours and gripped it tight, and you found the silence warm, like a gentle hug you wanted to last forever.

The lunch date was sweet. You both ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and a large sweet tea; reveling in its taste since it had been some time since you had genuine sweet tea. He started asking you about your schooling, learning that you’re majoring in business and will soon start working on your master’s degree. This charmed him— you were both alike even if it was in different ways. You’ve always provided for your mother, and so has he. You won’t stop reaching new opportunities, and neither will he. As the date went on his attraction only grew deeper. Your physical appearance did not mean much to him, you were to die for, but right now he wanted to know every single thing about you and didn’t care about anything else.

But… this wasn’t to say he’s not a curious man.

When ordering the food, you took a step back to look at the entire menu. This caused your skin tight shirt to rise up ever so slightly, showing off your cute tummy and belly button piercing. You noticed him staring, and he was never one to lie.

“Sukuna, order some damn food and stop looking at me like that,” you slapped his large bicep jokingly, making that same smirk from earlier slowly grow on his face.

“Mmm, you hidin’ that accent from me girl. Soundin’ so pretty bossin’ me around.”

You could tell the cashier felt a bit awkward at this point, so you pushed Sukuna in front of you to get him to focus.

Even though he would have moments like those, you didn’t feel like he was objectifying you. It never became the focal point of your conversations. It seemed like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you and it made you feel so… different. Sure you were young, but you’d never experienced such a natural yet interesting conversation with a man. You were shocked by it, to say the least, and it only made you want him more.

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After that day, you two were basically inseparable. He made it a point to try and see you after work, and if there was a day where he couldn’t do it, he’d make it up to you x2 the next day. He immediately started spoiling you, whether it was food or sending you money for new makeup, it’s like he couldn't do enough for you. You were always beyond grateful, and would even tell him to tone it down a bit, but he’d always say, “Princesses deserve princess things.”

It’d been around four weeks of this, the dates would get more romantic, and his time with you only more cherished. Although the flirting continued to grow, he never made a move on you. You definitely didn’t want to be the one to initiate anything. Maybe there was a reason for him not wanting to get physical, but not even a kiss? It was killing you at this point, every night you spent just dreaming of what his pretty lips felt like on yours. Not being able to help your hands traveling down to your aching pussy. You were so horny it hurt, and nothing you did could satiate the feeling; knowing good and well that his fingers— let alone his dick could reach spots you didn’t even know were there. Your own fingers would suffice for now, but you would be leaving in just a few weeks, you needed to know what Ryomen Sukuna was like in bed.

So, the next time he picks you up, you make sure to look drop dead gorgeous (not like he didn’t think that about you regardless.)

A few days ago, he paid for your hair and nail appointments. Large knotless braids with curly pieces coming out of them, and the prettiest french tip set you’d ever got done. You told him you wanted everything to be a surprise, and that you were planning to get a new outfit as well AND that he didn’t have to send you money for that. But you know he did anyway. The plan for this night was a drive-in movie closer to the heart of the city rather than where you both resided. There was a wing place you loved, different shops, and the movie would be the last activity.

After picking up a new sundress, a black one with thin straps and a slit at the bottom, you felt confident enough that tonight would go well. You took a shower when you got home, lathered your skin with shea butter from head to toe, and put on all the gold jewelry you owned.

There’s no way he wouldn’t want to fuck you dumb.

As always, dinner with Sukuna was to die for. He was such a gentleman, making sure to pull your chair out for you, telling you to get whatever you wanted from the menu. “Don’t be scared sweetheart, want you nice ‘n full.”

You shopped for a little while after, well, it was really window shopping. You felt so bad that Sukuna was paying for everything, even though he always insisted. You decided to just point out all of the things you liked, kind of like a test— if he really liked you then he’d remember all these things for a future event.

The drive-in was dead. Which I guess isn’t too surprising, you can’t remember the last time someone talked about seeing a movie here. Nonetheless, this was your dream scenario. With basically no one to catch you guys, it was the perfect breeding ground (literally.) The movie was some rom-com looking thing in black and white which you begged to watch, only because you knew neither of you would want to pay attention. Once he grabbed some popcorn and soda from the concession stand, he pulled up in front of the big projection, claiming he needed to be as close as possible because of his eyesight. After a few minutes of pretending to be interested, you turned to him and finally broke the ice.

“‘Kuna, do you like me?” Sukuna couldn’t believe the question.

“Of course I like you baby, why else would I be here?”

“Well,” you started, “I don’t know…”

“Oh, you know.”

“I know you like me, it’s just like— we aren’t like… you know.”

“Gonna have to use your words sweetheart.”

You looked forward as you tried to find the best way to say this, you decided to just rip the bandaid off.

“We haven’t kissed! Or anything! You just hug me or wrap your arm around my waist, but we haven’t done nothin’ ‘kuna. And I’m not sayin’ that’s any indicator of how much you like me, I’m just sayin’ it’d be ni—”

You anticipated this kiss, not only because you did everything in your power to set it up, but you could feel Sukuna’s eyes latching onto the way your lips moved while talking. His lips were just as soft as you imagined, tasting like cherry carmex and popcorn. His hand found its way to the side of your face, cupping it gently until he moved it to tilt your chin up towards him. Your mouth opened a little from the change in angle, giving Sukuna’s tongue access to the warmth yours had to offer. He melted deeper into the kiss, and so did you, as it continued to get more sloppy and wet. You could tell he was eager, swirling and dancing on the tip of your tongue, sucking it harshly like he was trying to gather as much saliva as possible. Just to pull back and have it leak out of his mouth, dripping down both his and your chin. It was downright nasty the way your fluids were colliding, but it turned you on an unbelievable amount. Whining and groaning into him, rubbing your thighs together, lacking the correct amount of friction from wearing a dress instead of pants.

Your hand started traveling to his chest and lower, and he could tell you were really riled up at this point simply from the way you were tugging on his shirt. He pulled his lips off yours, making you reach out for him still since your eyes were closed. When you opened them, you were able to see the true mess you two caused. Sukuna was drooling, his heavy lidded eyes not daring to move from your frame. His hair was everywhere, and you couldn’t be happier with your hairstyle of choice.

“Fuck baby,” he said while rubbing on the sides of your stomach, “I really need you. I’ve been needin’ you. Yer just so damn sexy, of course I’ve been wantin’ to do stuff. Just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He leaned in to kiss your cheek and up to the shell of your ear, “Never want you uncomfortable.”

And that sent you over, you cupped his face with both of your hands, kissing him hard. He growled from your sudden dominance, and with a few swift movements, pulled his seat back and slid you over the middle console and into his lap. Your dress hiked up to your thighs once you straddled him, allowing Sukuna to feel just how wet you were. With one hand on your face, and the other on your waist, he slowly made his way down to your cunt.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he whispered against your lips, making slow circles on your puffy clit. “This f’me? Say it’s for me babydoll.”

“It’s for you ‘kuna, it’s all for you. Please–” His fingers slid your panties to the side, revealing just how sticky you were for him. Your pussy was basically crying to be touched, and Sukuna was a gentleman, of course.

His mouth never left yours, left hand now resting behind your neck, while his other is furiously rubbing your bare clit. Your moans were being swallowed by Sukuna’s mouth, and when the pleasure finally got to be too much, you suddenly threw your head back with a yelp. Catching yourself immediately, you press your forehead into his.

“‘M sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry— it’s t-too much.”

“Don’t apologize princess, I love seein’ you act like this. So slutty.”

Your tits have barely been able to stay concealed in your already showy dress. They spilled out on their own from your sporadic movements, and once Sukuna could see one, he dropped everything to unveil the other and fondle them both. You kept grinding on his very hard dick, keeping up the rhythm he set up for you while he went to town on your boobs. Massaging them, pinching and flicking the nipples, mumbling things like “fuckin’ shit they’re so soft,” and “need to fuck you.” It wasn’t long before he popped one into his mouth, sucking on it, making it soo much more sensitive. You were squealing at this point, Sukuna looked up at you to see the tears forming at the corner of your eyes. With a ‘pop’ he brought his attention back to your beautiful face. Somehow fucked out just from dry humping. How cute, he thought to himself.

“Look at me, princess.” You struggled, but your eyes met his, still striving for your release. “‘M gonna fuck you, okay? Is that what you want?” You started nodding your head yes like a damn puppy.

“Need to hear you say it princess. Tell me you want it.”

“Wan’ it s-so bad baby, fuck me, I need you to fuck me.”

The thing about pick-up trucks is that there’s not really a backseat, which means you’d have to ride him right where you were. This wouldn’t have been a problem, until Sukuna quickly pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing probably the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. It was the fucking length that scared you. It wasn’t too thick, but girthy enough that it, plus his length, would have your legs shaking for days. He gave his dick slow strokes while you took off your dress, suddenly feeling embarrassed from being the only one naked. He could see you get self conscious by the way you try and hide yourself like the day he met you.

“Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for,” his eyes were still focused on yours while he prepared himself, licking his lips like he was genuinely going to eat you later.

“I can’t look at ya? You just look so damn good sweetheart. Can’t believe yer all mine.”

“You don’t have to gas me up now,” you said looking away.

“Nuh-uh,” he grabbed your cheeks and turned your face back to his, “I’ma always tell you how good you look. Don’t act so shy now baby.”

Your pussy clenched around nothing at his statement, still leaking from the previous foreplay. He pulled your forehead to his lips, kissing it tenderly, and when he let go of your face he asked you one last time if you were ready. You whisper out a shy yes and grab his dick cautiously, lining it up with your entrance as you slowly lower yourself onto it. You let out a sharp grasp as Sukuna rests his hands on the sides of your hips, trying to assist in any way he can. Once you’re close to bottoming out, he starts whispering praises.

“Doin’ so good babydoll.”

“Look at you takin’ me so well.

Every time he spoke your pussy would clench around him, making him hiss and choke back a whine. Once he was all the way inside you, you let out a breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. You raised your head to look at him instead of the way he was stretching you out. There’s that smirk again. One of his hands finds it’s way back to your clit, rubbing slow circles like before to help you relax. You were so tense but you tried to keep a level-headed face, even though it literally felt like you were being split in two.

You felt your walls get used to his size and shape, feeling them contort and mold into Sukuna’s cocksleeve. With that, you start riding him slowly, using his shoulders to stay balanced. You got the hang of it quickly and began picking up pace. He was still stimulating your clit, using his other hand to keep guiding your body up and down. It was clear that you were struggling to take him all in though, pausing every few seconds to catch your breathe or readjust yourself. And this would just not do for Sukuna.

He gripped and slapped your ass hard.

“Gotta do better than that baby.”

Smack

“C’mon sweetheart, put your fucking. back. into. it.”

Each emphasis on a word was coupled with a hard thrust and loud whines coming from the depths of your throat. The sounds you were both making at this point bounced around the truck. There wasn’t a moment of silence and you felt blissful. Lulling your tongue out just for Sukuna to catch between his teeth; moving his hand back to bully your clit, and using his free hand to grab your face and continue fucking his hips up into yours. He was growling obscenities into your ear, “Yeah baby, just like that keep fucking me like that.”

“Sukuna, please! Fuckfuckfuck I can’t,” you were bouncing on his dick beautifully, tits bouncing in unison and he truly believed you were unreal.

“Yes you can baby,” he gave your face light slaps, “keep those eyes open, keep lookin’ at me baby. Doin’ so good, I promise.” You were leaking like a faucet down his dick and balls, and with a certain thrust, you were sure he was hitting your cervix. The string of cries that came out of your mouth made him go faster, harder, knowing that he finally found the spot that makes you weak.

“Am I makin’ you feel good baby?”

“Mhmm, y-yesss, so so good.”

“Yes who?” Your eyes were crossing trying to look at him, confused at what he meant at first, but as his thrusts got rougher you knew exactly what he was getting at.

“Y-yes daddy, it feels so good.” You were slightly embarrassed by the things you were saying, the noises too. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. Searching for your release that was so close.

Sukuna was close too, but he didn’t want that to come before he made you gush all over his dick. When he found his way to your neck, kissing and biting and sucking on your precious skin, you were done.

“Fuck daddy right there!”

“Here sweetheart? You like this?”

“Yesyesyes don’t stop please don’t stop–” and with a cry you were creaming all over Sukuna’s dick. Your pussy clamped down on him so tight, he couldn’t help but look down at the beautiful mess you made all over his thighs. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, causing you to become incredibly overstimulated. Sukuna was getting close, you could tell by his relentless strokes, forgetting any type of consistent pace. His hands were on your hips now, pistoning up into you as your head rested gracefully on his shoulder.

“Mm babydoll gimme a kiss, c’mere.”

When your shaky lips met his, he was sent into overdrive.

“Fuck ‘m gonna cum. Fuck baby, where do you want it.”

Absolutely fucked out, you tried to come up with some sort of cohesive thought. “I-insi..de ‘kuna. In m-me.”

“You sure? Tell me you’re fuckin’ sure, yer milkin’ me baby.”

“I’m s-sure. Please please just cum inside me!”

“Oh, fuckkk…” Sukuna’s load filled your pussy to the brim, leaking out to coat the sides of his dick. He made you feel so full and warm. Finally stopping his thrusts, you hunch over his shoulder and he begins rubbing what feels like hearts on your back, humming into your ear how good you were for him, dick never leaving your pussy.

“Did such a good job princess. So fuckin’ good, are you an angel? Must be an angel, the way you dropped into my life like this.”

“Mmmm I’m your angel ‘kuna. I was made for you only.”

Although the moment was wholesome, your mind immediately flooded with the thought of you leaving in a few weeks.

How were you supposed to leave after this?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

hope you enjoyed ;) and let me know if i missed anything as far as my content ahead section goes!

tags: @aiyaaayei

[harrywavycurly]

Southern Comfort Part 20.2: Saddle Up

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language

Tag List: @wedontknowherorhimorthem @blckburd @daphnesutton @fangirl509east

A/N: Harry calls Niall because he needs to hear the honest truth and who better to give that to him than his Irish bestie, this is also dialogue formate not a text, enjoy✨

“Wait a bloody minute here Harry…you told Jeff what now?” “I told him how I’ve been seeing her so much and how I like her and just…how I want to spend my free time with her.” “Okay and he took that as she’s obsessed with you?….why?” “I mean…because I…I didn’t correct him when he assumed?” “So you let Jeff your manager because let’s not get it fucking twisted here Harry he’s your manger first most of the time and your friend second…you let him think this poor girl that you’ve been seeing has been the one obsessed with spending all her time with you ever since she bumped into you in the grocery store?” “Uh…yeah.” “What the fuck is wrong with you? Of course he’s going to come in there ready to get her to sign a damn restraining order Harry you made her sound like a top notch psycho when in reality it’s you! You’re the one who’s gone fully off his fucking rocker obsessed with her.” “I know! I know Niall! I don’t know why I let him think it was her I was an idiot and now…now she said she needs like space or something and she’ll call me when she’s ready to talk and…what if this is it? What if I lost her before I even really had her?” “Then you’d be getting exactly what your gangly ass deserves for making her deal with that ambush you call a fucking friendly meeting…seriously Harry…you just sat there? Didn’t even try to get him to back the fuck off?” “I didn’t want to interfere…I know she can handle herself.” “Well no shit she can handle herself but doesn’t mean she should have to….especially when it’s defending herself to your wanker ass friends Harry.” “What do I do Niall? I’m…I don’t know what to do.” “You give her all the time she needs and respect her boundaries…don’t be fucking weird Harry and creep on her house like I know you want to…and with the time she’s giving you maybe learn how to be the fucking man she deserves yeah? Because let me tell you…based on what you’ve told me about her….how you’re acting right now isn’t it…she can handle her own and she can handle being with you it seems but that doesn’t mean she doesn��t deserve to be protected or at the very least know you’re willing to step the fuck up if needed…but above all she deserves to be respected…and Harry you let your friend disrespect her and that’s not okay.” “You’re right I…I have to be who she deserves and needs and I’ve been…going at this all wrong it’s just…fuck Niall she makes me so nervous…she doesn’t even have to do anything but smile at me and I’m fumbling over myself and can barley get my words out and I just…I lost myself for a moment and let things get all fucked but I’m going to fix it.” “I know you care about her Harry….what’s that saying they say in those old fucking western movies? It’s time for you to saddle up and get your head outta your ass?” “I don’t…think that’s a saying at all Niall…but I get what you’re trying to say…oh and just so you can have a laugh at my expense…I thought she was my girlfriend this whole time.” “Shut the fuck up…Harry what the hell? Why…why the hell would you think that?” “Because I’ve never actually had to ask anyone to be my girlfriend before? They just always…said I was their boyfriend.” “Jesus….listen I know you’re like Harry fucking Styles and you’re used to things just being like handed to you but this girl of yours…yeah she’s not like that okay? You gotta put in the work….meaning if you want her to be your fucking girlfriend you have to ask her…god you’re such an idiot sometimes…we really should’ve stayed in school a bit longer.” “We really should’ve…would’ve done us a world of good…you think after all this she’d even say yes?” “She didn’t tell you she’d never talk to you again so yeah…I’d say give her the time she needs and maybe hang out a few times after to see how it feels and prove that you’re not the same bloody fucking twat you were beforehand and yeah…I think she’ll say yes.” “You’re always so motivational Niall it’s amazing.” “I know I should really go into public speaking huh?….but I gotta go…good luck Harry I’m rooting for ya.” “Thanks Niall…means a lot.”

[ghoul-bonez]

~You Are at Peace~

(Sully Family x Fem! Reader)

Summary: Adapting to your new life was hard, but you will get through this.

Word count: 3k

Author’s note: A Lover, Not a Fighter Pt. 3 everyone cheer! ALSO I have no idea how tumblr works so if I like reblog something or something formats stupid please tell me how to fix it 😭

Last - Next

~Series Masterlist~

~Main Masterlist~

You Are at Peace

Eventually after flying long enough you made it to the ocean. It was beautiful, and you were sure you could learn to love it with time, but right now you loathed it. You didn’t want to be there, and you never would. You will never love it like you love the forest.

Even though you will never love the ocean like the forest you will have to adapt to love it in its own way. You will have to adapt. Adapt to your new surroundings, the Metkayina people’s ways of life, their traditions and foods. You will have to change, and that scares you.

Even though you know you will struggle to adapt, you know it will be harder for your wife, Neytiri. Even though you are rigid in your ways you were more flexible than her. You could take a change, you could change with it, but she struggled. It took her longer to change, to adapt.

You predict Jake will have no troubles with adapting. He never has. He went from being a human to a Na’vi, an Omatikaya. Then he had easily slid into being Toruk Makto and the Olo’eyktan roll. Although he is stubborn he changes like the tides in the ocean, easily, giving and taking from the things he already knows.

It relieves you that your children are still young and flexible. They loved the forest, their home, but they were willing to learn new things. Curiosity is on their side, wanting to know about everything around them. You can not see the future so you hope they will love it here, or at least like it. Like it enough to call it their home, unlike you will never be able to do.

The Metkayina people won’t be so accepting of your presence, your intrusion. They will not understand you, as you will not understand them. They will see you as outsiders, people who don’t belong. If they don't like you or Neytiri they certainly won’t like Jake or your children. They will see them as aliens, even Neteyam and Tuk, who have the same hands as you and them.

You were worried they wouldn’t let you stay, for many reasons. You were refugees of war, fleeing a dangerous killer. If Quaritch found you he would target them too, bringing more war and violence. Jake and the children had that same demon blood flowing through them, the people would fear them, hate them, not allow you to stay.

As you thought Tuk, who was with you again after a few stops, tugged on your arm, “Mama, we’re here!” She cheered as you passed a rocky formation with lots of little pools of water on it.

You couldn't help but be enamored by the formation, it was something you had never seen before. You looked around more and ahead of you was the main island. It was surrounded by trees, the roots were what their homes were built on, hanging over the water.

It was beautiful, but not what you were used to, not home.

Jake led the way, circling the beach before landing on it, followed by everyone else. The landing was rough, your ikran not used to the sand, but you settled her quickly.

You hopped off before helping Tuk off, immediately picking her up, holding her in your arms. You weren’t sure if it was to calm her or yourself.

Neytiri was very obviously unhappy as she aggressively grabbed her bow out of its holder on her ikran, and when Jake noticed he shook his head at her, muttering, “Hey, leave it.”

“Tuk,” Neytiri cood at the girl in your arms, so you let her down and she ran to Neytiri, holding onto her hand tightly. You followed quickly after, holding onto Tuk’s other hand.

You were just as unsure as Neytiri, but you tried just a little harder to hold it, tried to be civil with the new people, not glaring at them like her.

Jake warned you and Neytiri, but the warning was mostly for the more hostile of the both of you, “Be nice.”

Tuk looked up at you, then Neytiri, asking, “Who… Who are they?” She must be so scared. These people were so different, they looked different and sounded different. It was a lot for you to take in so you could only imagine how the eight year old was feeling.

You squeezed her hand in reassurance, “It’s okay, Tuk Tuk.”

Neytiri spoke calmly, “Be nice.” she warned your kids, just like Jake had her.

You felt the need to parrot them and so you did, “Be nice, everyone.” You looked over to Lo’ak specifically.

Jake approached the crowd with his hands out, a sign of peace, he meant to harm.

People whispered around you, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying, putting you on edge. There was some part of you that was happy you couldn’t hear them, not worried about defending yourself against their words.

You felt the unease about them, and your family, so you looked over everyone again, making sure everyone was okay and intact. Everyone was okay, everyone was there. You were in this together.

Kiri wrapped her shawl around her tighter, and you took that as a sign to walk over to her, pulling her into your side, “It will be okay, ma ‘ite.”

Then the crowd parted and two boys walked to the front. They seemed to be around your oldest three’s age. Maybe they could all be friends, but the look on the boy’s faces said otherwise. Neteyam and Lo’ak greeted them first as they seemed focused on your two, their hands meeting their forehead then extending down, but the Metkayina boys just snickered.

Jake could sense the rising emotions and tried to defuse your boys, “Easy, just be cool.”

The strange new boys circled Neteyam and Lo’ak, “Look, what is that? Is that supposed to be a tail?” The shorter boy asked, laughing in their faces.

You were grateful and watched as Lo’ak’s attention was pulled away from them, becoming interested in a girl who was approaching from the water. You were relieved she had caught his attention before he had started something, but you also couldn’t help but smile at the dumb look on his face, you knew that look, and it seemed Neteyamm did as well because of his little giggle at his brother.

“It’s too small.” The boys continued talking about your tails, “How are they supposed to swim?”

How were you supposed to swim? It had to be different for them, just like walking, and it wasn’t for you. You for one hated the water and had never learned to swim, but you guess you’re going to have to learn soon. A little sooner than you would like though.

“Do not.” The girl Lo’ak had been looking at scolded them, sighing and giving you a smile.

You then zoned back in on your mates in front of you, they were watching someone fly in on some creature you had never seen before. He flew above you, and you instinctively ducked down a little, your heart jumping up your throat.

Then he landed, the animal swimming the rest of the way, where he hopped off of it, walking right towards you. This must be the Olo’eyktan. You couldn’t help but wonder where the Tsahik was.

Jake greeted the man, confirming your suspicion of the man’s role in the clan, his fingers met his forehead before swooping down, "I see you, Tonowari.”

“Jakesully.” He greeted back simply.

You and Neytiri went to greet him as well, the rest of your family following you and greeting him wordlessly with the hand gesture.

Then a woman approached, parting the sea of people like the boys earlier, but unlike the boys, you were afraid of her. An air of confidence hung around her. She was dangerous, the danger of being told no. Of being turned away.

Jake greeted her too, “I see you, Ronal, Tsahik of the Metkayina.” So she was the Tsahik. She definitely had the aura of a strong leader, probably more in charge than the Olo’eyktan himself.

“I see you, Ronal.” Neytiri spoke too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, simply nodding at her respectfully.

Tonowari drug his attention away from his mate, looking to Jake and speaking to him, “Why do you come to us, Jakesully?”

Jake was hesitant as he spoke, fear on display to you, but nobody else would be able to tell, “We seek uturu.”

Ronal almost looked offended, gasping, “Uturu?”

Jake just nodded his head, “Yes, sanctuary for my family.”

Ronal started circling you, she seemed to watch you extra as she walked around you, she probably hadn’t heard of you, not many had. You had always been a lover, not a fighter, so it would make sense. You weren't Toruk Makto who had defeated the Sky People. You weren't the future Tsahik or the clan leader’s daughter. You were just their mate, but that was enough for you.

Tonowari tried to reason with Jake, it felt like he didn’t want you there, but in reality he was probably trying to understand better, “We are reef people. You are forest people. Your skills will mean nothing here.”

“Well, we will learn your ways. Am I right?” Jake tried to convince him, looking at the rest of your family who muttered staggered “yes”s.

Ronal grabbed Neytiri’s tail, rolling it in her grasp, before letting it go. Then she grabbed Tuk’s arm and you had to remember to stay calm, “Their arms are thin.”

“Mama!” Tuk was scared as she rushed over to you away from Neytiri, away from Ronal.

Ronal continued looking you over, “Their tails are weak.”

She grabbed Kiri’s who shouted, “Ow!”

“You will be slow in the water.” Then she grabbed Kiri’s hands, and your heart dropped, your worst fears coming true as she held her hand up, “These children are not even true Na’vi.”

The crowd around you gasped as they took in Kiri’s hands, and you felt your breath leave you as if they had stolen your air to create their own.

“Dad.” Kiri whispered, looking towards Jake, who stood there as sturdy as ever, keeping himself calm, “Yes we are!” Kiri protested when her dad said nothing.

Then she went to Lo’ak holding up his hand too. This was painful for you, watching the children you loved so much be bullied, picked on, by an adult. The Tsahik of the people you are trying to create peace with nonetheless.

“They have demon blood!” Ronal spoke strongly. She was unwavering, stronger than you right now. She had more power, and that showed as the crowd gasped again.

Lo’ak looked ashamed, and you could only imagine how he was really feeling. You wanted to comfort him, but you stayed in place next to Kiri.

Jake had to do something, and he had to do it fast. You looked at him, making eye contact and glaring, and he finally spoke, “Look. Look!” He held up his own hand, “Look, I was born of the Sky People, and now I am Na’vi. Alright?” Admitting to his past sins, “You can adapt. We Will adapt, okay?” he spoke confidently.

Then it was Neytiri who stepped forward, and you could feel the fear welling up in you. You were afraid to step out of line, but you knew she wasn’t, “My husband was Toruk Makto.” Jake cringed, “He led the clans to victory against the Sky People.”

Ronal scoffed right in her face, “This you call victory? Hiding among strangers. It seems Eywa has turned her back on you, chosen one.”

This set not only Neytiri off, but you as well, killing off all fear in you as you hissed strongly at the woman. Ronal looked shocked, but only for a second as she regained herself, snarling back.

Neytiri looked from you, to Jake, then back to you, but Jake was making eye contact with Tonowari, as if saying sorry before he spoke, addressing Ronal as well, “I apologize for my mate. She’s-”

You gaped at him, how dare he, “Do not apologize for me.”

Jake just continued in his apology, “Flown a long way,and she’s exhausted.” You gritted your teeth, snarling quietly at him.

“Jake.” You huffed, but he just looked at you, almost daring you to say more, but you didn’t.

Tonowari ignored the whole altercation, wanting to smooth everything over for his people, “Toruk Makto is a great war leader, all Na’vi know his story, but we Metkayina are not at war.”

Jake sighed and picked up Tuk who had called out to him. He looked exhausted, and this was the first time you noticed. He looked grated down, but he knew he couldn’t rest until his family, your family, was safe.

The Olo’eyktan spoke again, “We cannot let you bring your war here.”

“I’m done with war, okay? I just want to keep my family safe.” He cradled Tuk against him.

Neytiri added, “Uturu has been asked.”

Tuk whispered, “Do we have to go?” and you hustled over to her and Jake, taking her from him as he looked like he was about to drop her from exhaustion.

“Shh, we’ll be okay.” You reassured her.

You watched as Ronal and Tonowari looked at each other, making intense eye contact. It was like they were having a conversation without talking, one that you couldn’t understand and could never hope to. Then Ronal nodded her head, and you knew you were going to be okay, but you waited for someone to speak.

Tonowari turned to the crowd to address them, “Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us.”

That was the last thing you heard before you zoned out, relief flowing through your system. You silently prayed to Eywa, praising her, thanking her, for keeping you safe.

As relieved as you are you realize you now need to adapt. You are being forced to adapt. You would have to completely change your ways, learn a new way of life, and you weren’t happy about that, but you pushed that to the back of your mind, ignoring it for now.

You have been living by the sea for four weeks now, and although you weren’t doing the best at learning the new ways, your children were, and you were grateful for that. You were grateful they seemed to be enjoying themselves, fitting in for the most part.

For the most part everyone was nice to you, to them, but some of the other kids their age weren’t so nice. You had helped confort Kiri after being bullied, and cleaned Lo’ak up after a fight stemming from that.

You were most grateful for Tsireya. She had taken your kids under her wing, treating them as equals, even though she had more knowledge about the sea, and was teaching them about it. You had taken a liking to her, and part of that was because Lo’ak liked her so much. Possibly more than liked, but you let things play out on their own.

Jake was doing great, like you had predicted. He was learning fast and pulling his weight like he had asked your family to do. He had learned to ride a tsurak, which was impressive on its own, but he had also learned to hunt with one. He was providing for your family like he had always done.

Neytiri was having a harder time than Jake, but an easier time than you. She had stuck to helping Ronal with Tsahik duties. She had adapted to helping the others quickly, it was just like how she had helped her mom at home. You had wanted to help Ronal as well, but she had refused, saying she didn’t need help or another healer.

You were surprised how rigid you had become, not wanting to learn anything new, not wanting to touch the water, not wanting to leave your home. Neytiri had always been the less flexible one, the one more set in her ways, so why were you struggling so much?

The reason was obvious to everyone besides yourself. You were scared. You were scared of everything. You were scared of the water, that every time you entered it you would be swept away by the current and pulled into the depths. You were scared of the change, that if you changed your ways you would lose the old you. You were scared because everything you had ever known was swept out from beneath you.

Even though Ronal did not need help with Tsahik duties, or need another healer, she had been helping you learn their ways. When she was not busy she would seek you out and drag you towards the water. You had learned to swim and hold your breath, but you were still very hesitant about the ocean. She was gentle and patient with you, much nicer now than she was when you had first arrived.

When you weren’t with Ronal you were trying to busy yourself with simple tasks. You spent most of your time crafting, weaving baskets for supplies, making tops for Neytiri and Kiri, even a few for Tuk to grow into, and carving beads for Tuk’s hair and other crafts.

You were bored, but you were grateful for the break in some ways. You had space to breathe, to process. You were doing lots of processing, and you felt like you were getting nowhere because when you grasped one thing there was something new that came up.

Even though you had nothing to do, you found yourself enjoying your time. You enjoyed your alone time, and enjoyed your time with your family. You didn’t want to, but you had learned to live like this, to live in a new way.

Whenever you think about your new life a sense of calm has draped itself over you, and you are at peace.

Word Bank:

Metkayina (Ocean Na’vi)

Omatikaya (Forest Na’vi)

Toruk Makto (Rider of Last Shadow)

Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)

Ikran (Mountain Banshee)

‘Ite (Daughter)

Tsahik (Spiritual leader)

Uturu (Sanctuary)

Eywa (Na’vi goddess)

Tsurak (Skimwing)

@im-in-a-pansexual-panik - @ducks118 - @ssc7514

[siilvan]

bloodsport – IV

prologue | one | two | three | next

characters: vladimir makarov

summary: your first time back in the field is a whirlwind of emotions, especially after being forced to rely on yet another enemy. new information is revealed, and you realize that a drastic action may be the only way to fix this mess.

genre: angst, slowburn, enemies to ?, fem!reader (callsign: petra)

warnings: semi-proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood/injuries, poorly written spec-ops, allusions to trauma and stress, reader has a bit of a breakdown, graves lol

word count: 6k

note: giving a quick PSA here— please be mindful about what y'all write. i know this fic is about a very controversial and problematic character, but i try to be mindful about how i portray him and his actions. don't romanticize things that should not be romanticized, and be respectful to people. COD as a whole is problematic, but that doesn't mean we need to be a shitty community. support real victims, don't spread hate. easy peasy.

also, yes, i changed my formatting. the little text is too hard to read without my glasses, so... yeah. hope it's not ugly now :)

you spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, trying but failing to will yourself to fall asleep. soap texts you shortly before the sun comes up - a picture of himself and the rest of the team, posing for the camera. they're covered in dirt and ash, exhaustion apparent in their eyes, but the image is enough to make you crack a smile.

you give them a few hours, pulling yourself out of bed after sunrise and occupying yourself with mundane tasks around the house, before picking up the phone and calling price.

"hey, captain. sorry for calling so early." you chuckle, leaning against the arm of the couch.

"don't worry about it," price clears his throat, hoarse from fatigue, and you wonder for a second if he was asleep before you called. "was just finishing some paperwork. what d'you need?"

a low sigh escapes from you. "i know it's only been a day, but... can i come back? i really want to get back to work."

you can hear papers shuffling from his end. "i know you want to work, but we just can't take the risk—"

"there isn't going to be any risk," you assert, raising your voice slightly and interrupting him. you pause and wet your lips, speaking in a softer tone again. "please, captain, i know i can handle it. i just want to get back to normal already."

the line is quiet for a long moment, with price silently deliberating over your request. you shift nervously, gripping the phone tighter as you wait impatiently for a response.

finally, after you shift for the umpteenth time, he exhales deeply.

"i'll see if i can convince laswell, okay?" he concedes. you can hear his chair creaking as he leans back - you're assuming, at least. "pack your bags. i'll send a transport helicopter in an hour."

⋆⋆⋆

that's how you ended up at base again, with the team welcoming you back with open arms. laswell initially rejected the idea, stating the same concerns as before, but price managed to sway her after some discussion.

so, now you're in a meeting room, gathered around a table with lists, blueprints, names, pictures— any and all of the intel that the task force has gotten their hands on, scattered across the surface. you blink when price raps his knuckles against the tabletop, drawing your attention.

it's laswell who talks, shooting a glance around the table to address the group. "as you're all aware, shadow company has been a target of the konni group in recent times," she starts, sending you a cursory look, asking you for confirmation. you nod, and she continues. "not only have they been fighting the group head-on in al-mazrah, but there's been several incidents with undercover konni operatives in their ranks."

"good, let 'em fuckin' deal with it." soap remarks, earning noises of agreement from gaz, ghost, and yourself. price and laswell aren't as entertained by it.

"general shepherd, commander graves, and their men betrayed us." laswell pauses before letting out a heavy sigh. "i know none of you were happy about the ceasefire, and i know that you were furious when graves resurfaced. but, besides farah's forces, shadow company is our strongest ally."

"—and the only one capable of making any strong moves without risking an all-out war." price adds, shaking his head. everyone's displeased with the situation, that much is obvious.

"where are you goin' with this?" ghost asks. a tense silence fills the room for a long moment, making you shift awkwardly.

laswell motions towards the door on the far side of the room with her head. you cast your gaze in the same direction, watching as the door is pushed open.

as if on cue, the very man that should've been buried in flames in las almas walks into the room. the shadow himself. philip graves.

"oh, fuck off." soap growls at the man, looking ready to lunge at him from across the table. ghost steps forward and, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reaching for his sidearm. gaz and price are eerily quiet while glaring daggers at him, and you immediately feel the blood rush to your ears as every nerve commands you to shoot him yourself.

"i know this isn't ideal," laswell attempts to placate all of you, though the cold stare she regards him with betrays her calm demeanor. "but, for now, we're allies. we have a bigger threat to worry about."

"yeah, those konni guys are, uh..." graves perks up, languidly sauntering up to the table. he purses his lips for a second, thinking, before clicking his tongue. "real troublesome. i've lost a lot of good men thanks to them."

"good." ghost mutters, straightening himself next to soap.

price cuts through the tension with a wave of his hand. "alright, none of us want this, but we've got no other options." he grumbles. "konni's moving towards urzikstan. if we want to stop 'em, then we need to cooperate."

you eye graves from your peripherals, recalling the information that makarov gave you a couple weeks ago. graves isn't in on shepherd's plan, but he's likely the only person who knows the general's whereabouts. you need to say something while you still can. how will he take the news, though? he's betrayed you before, he'll do it again if it benefits him.

"petra, you listening?" laswell's voice abruptly interrupts your thoughts. you divert your attention back to her and notice that everyone's focus is on you.

"i have something i need to say," you blurt out. you need to bring up the general before he potentially ropes graves in.

you receive a collection of interested stares, urging you to go on.

"when i was captured, i managed to get some information," you drop your gaze, narrowing your eyes at the documents laid out. "we're not just fighting konni and al-qatala. some of the forces occupying al-mazrah are under shepherd's command."

the silence that falls over the room is almost deafening. the group balks at you with shock and confusion written on their expressions, until graves huffs out a laugh.

"general shepherd's 'forces' are my men. i can assure you, petra, that none of my shadows are workin' with konni." he says with a lopsided smile, confident as ever.

you turn to face graves fully, grimacing. "i'm not talking about your shadows. shepherd has another group under his command."

"what group?" price asks.

"cia operatives. ex-soldiers, specifically." you turn back, eyes flitting between price and laswell. "he's sending men undercover. the unmarked mercenaries that we keep encountering? that's them."

laswell shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest. "where did you get this information?"

you freeze. your mouth opens to say makarov's name, but for some reason, you hesitate. with a deep inhale, you blink away the odd feeling and force the words past your lips.

"makarov. i'm not sure why, but he told me about it."

yet another unbearable tension befalls the group; you're getting close to ripping your hair out over it. as if reading your thoughts, gaz speaks up.

"you know about this?" he says, directed at graves. he's tight-lipped, glowering at him.

graves doesn't respond, letting the question hang in the air. he looks just as surprised as the rest of you - makarov was telling the truth, then. shadow company isn't in on the plan. shepherd has effectively betrayed his strongest ally, to your knowledge.

"i'm sure there's an explanation," graves utters, chuckling to himself. "war's a dirty business. there's good reason to send men undercover."

"he's got part of the special activities division in his pocket." laswell says.

"isn't that where you pulled alex from?" price hums, earning a nod in reply. it's a bad situation, to say the least.

you regain everyone's attention and continue. "i don't know the full plan, but makarov suspected that shepherd's doing this to put himself back on top. start a war, get himself marked as a hero, reap the rewards."

graves raises a brow at you, amusement written on his face. "and, we should trust the judgement of a terrorist?" he says while searching the room for support.

price keeps his gaze on you, though the distant look in his eye tells you that his mind is elsewhere. "i'd trust this one's judgement." he mutters, jaw clenching.

"well, there's no point in standin' around, is there?" graves seems to bounce back quickly, shrugging off the news. "we've got a job to do and a terrorist to catch. let's focus on that."

"i'll contact farah and see if alex knows anything about the men under shepherd's command." laswell says as you all break away from the table and start to file out of the room.

"keep us updated," price nods to her before turning to the rest of you. "wheels up in thirty. we'll debrief on the way."

you breathe out a relieved sigh once everyone breaks off, heading off to finish any last minute preparations before takeoff. you linger in the corridor, running a hand down your face and groaning into the palm of your hand. of course, you have no choice but to work with an enemy whilst relying on intel from yet another. at least you can be open with your team about this one.

shepherd and makarov are your targets. graves comes after. take down all three, and your headaches are gone. no more doubting yourself, no more questions, no more nights spent looking at lists of crimes that make you feel sick. you can resume your not-so-peaceful life with the rest of the task force and celebrate the world being a somewhat safer place.

your phone buzzes in your pocket, distracting you from your pondering and pulling you back to the present. you frown at the name on the caller id.

it's a single letter: 'v.'

after your conversation - if you can even call it that - with makarov last night, you saved his number. putting his name in your phone is basically shooting yourself in the foot, so you saved it under a name that gives you deniability in the event someone sees it.

you duck into an empty rec room nearby and accept the call, keeping an eye on the door as you lift the phone to your ear.

"you actually picked up the phone this time." makarov remarks upon you answering. your frown deepens, brows furrowing.

"if you don't have anything important to say, i'm hanging up."

he chuckles, far too casual for your liking. "i have an update. something that i'm sure you'll be interested in."

you shift, leaning against the back of one of the couches. "what is it?"

"in case you're planning to return to al-mazrah, just know that shepherd's men have been given strict orders to target and eliminate members of the one-four-one."

a chill creeps up the back of your spine. it's an unsurprising order, but you still rack your brain as to why he gave it. does shepherd somehow know that you know about his plans? it shouldn't be possible— until the meeting that finished just minutes ago, the only people privy to the knowledge were makarov and yourself.

of course, shepherd's allies are aware of it, but the only ally of his that you've contacted is graves. you doubt that he's talked to the general in the short amount of time since, which eliminates graves as a possibility just as quickly as you suspected him.

there has to be another source. someone feeding him information, keeping the one-four-one under watch.

"shepherd's got a mole in our group." you reply, pinching the bridge of your nose. "fucking hell. he knows that we're onto him."

"'we,' lieutenant?" he comments with an amused lilt in his tone.

"my team, asshole. he's got men undercover in your group and in my squad. he's watching all of his enemies."

makarov hums, voice dropping a little. "you have a keen eye, petra. have you asked the shadow about shepherd's whereabouts, yet?" he asks, brushing past your frustration.

"haven't had the chance," you mutter. "based on his reaction to the news, i doubt he'll give it away, though. we might have to get the location ourselves."

he exhales, audible through the phone. "it would be more convenient if you could convince him to tell you."

you roll your eyes. "yeah, of course it would. just don't expect any miracles. aren't you the one with all the mysterious ways of gathering information, anyway?" you grumble sarcastically and move away from the couch, starting to pace around the room while keeping your gaze on the door.

"i can get his location if necessary, but that would eliminate your usefulness in this operation, wouldn't it?"

he's right, and you hate him for it. "you still need me to kill him." you counter bluntly.

"i can do that, too. your team wants revenge for his betrayal. this is me being charitable - don't disappoint."

makarov ends the call before you have the chance to argue, leaving you to huff to yourself in the empty room. a moment later, a head pokes around the doorway, startling you and nearly making you drop your phone when you jump.

gaz is regarding you with a sly grin as he fully reveals himself and steps into the room. your palms immediately moisten with sweat as worry floods your mind - how much did he just hear?

"so, who you talkin' to?" gaz cocks his head to the side, teasing. he's relaxed, standing in front of you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

you pocket your phone and flash a calm smile. "that depends. you have any guesses?"

he chuckles, lifting one of his hands to playfully stroke at his chin as he thinks. "let's see... i know you weren't home for long, but—" his grin morphs into a lopsided smirk as he eyes you suspiciously. "y'got a boyfriend?"

dear god, no.

you resist the urge to gag at the thought and shake your head. "nope, it's just a... friend of mine."

gaz leans forward, an inquisitive 'ah' tumbling from his lips. "a friend, eh? they got a name?" he asks.

"he, uh... just goes by 'v.'"

"'v?' like the letter?"

you answer with an affirmative "mhm," patting gaz on the shoulder as you brush past him. "it's a nickname i gave him. don't worry about it."

gaz groans in exasperation as you stroll towards the door, trying to ignore the way your heart races. lying is a normal part of the job, but lying to your team? generally not recommended.

"most 'just friends' don't have exclusive nicknames, you know!" gaz calls out from behind as you round the corner and start down the hall, leaving him alone.

a sick part of you finds the sentiment - makarov, being anything more than an enemy - entertaining, but your better judgement steers you back on track. you've got a mission to prepare for, and the likelihood of something going wrong is as high as ever. you need to focus on the mission and getting graves to give up shepherd.

⋆⋆⋆

shadow company's gunship is a familiar sight as you climb aboard, slipping past the groups of shadows and finding your teammates gathered around what you can only describe as the command center. graves is standing close by, though the tension is palpable as you approach.

after the aircraft lifts off is when graves talks, addressing the soldiers lining the seats of the craft.

"alright, now i know we've had our problems in the past," he starts, briefly acknowledging your group before turning back to his men. "however, none of that matters right now. the one-four-one is our ally on this mission; treat 'em like your own. copy that, shadows?"

johnny snorts from next to you. "where have we heard this before?" he mumbles.

there's a resounding "yep-yep" from his men, accompanied by several nods and looks in your direction. graves pats one of the soldiers on the shoulder and looks to price.

"think you can lay out the rest, captain."

price starts down the middle row, his voice booming even over the sounds of people checking their weapons, gear, and anxiously shifting in their seats. he moves slowly, practically stalking down the length of the gunship.

"the mission is simple: konni and al-qatala have set up bases across the city. they're using gas, heavy artillery, and stolen weapons to protect themselves." price stops for a moment and lets his gaze drag over the soldiers staring back at him. "i don't think i need to remind you shadows of what konni's done to your brothers in arms. we're going to break off into strike teams - eight men - and destroy these bases. alpha team will take the nerve center in the heart of the city. you already know your assignments."

graves speaks again once price goes quiet. "the commanders are not likely going to be in any of these field bases. but, if they are, then each and every single one of you has execute authority." he announces. "first man to bag an HVT gets a reward." he adds with a smirk, earning light laughter from several of his men.

when the speeches conclude, you settle back in your seat.

alpha team includes yourself, price, graves, and five of the shadows that graves handpicked. ghost, soap, and gaz are leading the bravo team, charged with the largest and best-guarded of the field bases. the commanding chain within shadow company are leading the other groups tasked with the bases scattered around the city.

you fish your phone out of one of your vest pockets when it buzzes, reading the notification on the screen.

there's an agent in your group 11:06 am

not a shadow. special forces. 11:06 am

you frown, angling the screen back and quickly scanning the group. everyone seems to be engrossed in conversation, giving you a chance to respond.

do you have a name? 11:07 am

not yet. he's a rookie. 11:07 am

he's stationed at the base you're staying at 11:07 am

check the files. should have transferred recently. 11:08 am

thank you. 11:08 am

don't mention it. 11:09 am

you're quick to tuck your phone away again, jolting when gaz suddenly addresses you.

"texting your boyfriend, eh?" he laughs, catching everyone's attention.

soap snorts and turns to you. "since when did you start dating?"

you wave them off, sitting up again as all eyes fall on you - even ghost, who is usually horribly uninterested in gossip.

"what are you two, schoolchildren?" you ask, earning playful noises of offense. "he's just a friend. not even a close one."

you're getting yourself caught up in a lie. a shitty one, at that. all it's doing is making people more interested in who you're talking to. at this rate, you'll get caught by the end of the day.

"bullshit— no one in this job talks to a person this much if they're not special." gaz counters, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

price chuckles. "c'mon, gaz. come off it," he lightly scolds the sergeant before looking at you. "just make sure he treats you nice, yeah?" he adds, both teasing and sincere at the same time.

"he's not my— yeah, okay. i'll remember that." you concede, slumping back in your seat.

the topic is dropped not long after, leaving you to relax as people talk around you. after a couple minutes, you can feel your eyelids start to droop, reminding you of how restless last night was. the trip's going to take a while, you might as well get some sleep while you still can.

⋆⋆⋆

everything is so hot. the sun, the ground, your clothes, the air— you.

you don't have any protective gear on, your sidearm secured in your loose grip as you stumble through the ruins where a city once stood.

that's right, you think. the city was destroyed in all the fighting. reduced to nothing more than rubble. you remember when there used to be buildings here; half-toppled and abandoned, but they stood as evidence of life nonetheless.

you falter, landing on your knee and hissing as it hits the solid ground below you. your vision starts to blur as your eyes water, forcing you to rub at them with your free hand in a desperate attempt to clear them.

when you blink rapidly, trying to force back the disorientation and bleariness, you notice a figure directly ahead of you.

an ally. a friend. someone that can help.

you force yourself to your feet and stagger towards them, sucking in a hopeful breath when they start to rush to meet you. the harsh sun— fuck, it's so hot— makes you squint, preventing you from making out a face until they're already pulling you into their embrace, strong arms holding you close to their chest.

"it's okay." their voice— his voice, reassures you softly, one of his hands coming to rest on the back of your head, cradling you impossibly closer. "i took care of it, my dear. you're safe now."

hot tears streak down your cheeks, dirty with sand, dust, and ash, as you wrap your arms around his middle. you try to speak, but all that comes out is a hiccup and a pathetic sob, so you resolve to burying your face in his shoulder to muffle your cries.

you're tired. exhausted, actually. for once in this career, you want to be selfish. you want to be the protected one. fighting, losing allies, killing— it never ends.

he shushes you, but even in your state, you can tell the action is unnatural. gentleness, empathy, tender care... it isn't who he is.

you manage to lift your head enough to look at him, eyes glassy with tears.

makarov stares back at you, his callous gaze betraying the way he holds you. it makes you pause, confused, as you slowly recall why you're even here.

you were fighting konni operatives. there was a missile— no, something bigger. something that decimated the city and would have taken you along with it, had you not ducked into a shelter at the very last second. when you emerged, shaken and dazed in the aftershock, you encountered al-qatala and konni mercenaries alike.

bodies scattered in the streets, men wheezing for air despite blood displacing the oxygen in their lungs and leaking from every orifice, some still trying to fight even as they collapse in heaps of pure agony, writhing on the ground alongside their brothers in arms.

you wince when his fingers trace along the edge of your jaw, his forefinger hooking under your chin and forcing you to look into his eyes after your gaze drifts away.

"their lives mean nothing," makarov whispers, barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding against your ribcage. "not compared to you. you're better, stronger, than them. you will serve me well. you will help me usher in a new age."

he runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, slightly chapped from the dry heat. on instinct, you part your lips, and he moves his hand to cup your face before leaning in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

it's wrong. this is wrong.

you shouldn't be here. you shouldn't be doing this.

the kiss is a distraction, keeping you occupied as his other hand falls from its spot on your hip. you don't even notice the change until a gunshot rings out, and pain equally as burning as the kiss courses through your veins.

you can't even muster a proper cry as you pull back, one of your own hands flying to the epicenter of the pain, right in the middle of your stomach. your fingers brush against the spot, and you whimper when you lift them back up to your face. dark red stains your skin, dripping down your wrist.

"i just need to fix you first. under my guidance... you will be perfect, my dear." makarov mutters, catching you and holding you up when you crumple against him. he coos at you, sympathetic yet mocking, as he scoops you up in his arms, the world around you going dark.

⋆⋆⋆

you wake up with a start, shifting to the edge of your seat as you frantically rub at your eyes. there's an ache deep in the pit of your stomach, making you press your palm against the same spot as your dream.

this time, when you look down at your hand, you see nothing. a shaky sigh escapes from you at the sight - or, rather, the lack thereof.

"y'all right?" ghost asks, eyeing you from the seat across from you.

"yeah, yeah—" you respond, shaking off the lingering effects of the dream. "we almost there?"

price comes over, having been talking with graves some feet away, and pats your shoulder in acknowledgement. "about to touch down, actually. let's go."

you disembark alongside the rest of alpha team, taking up formation with price and graves, with the few shadow company operatives behind the three of you. reaching the building isn't a difficult task despite the many mercenaries standing between it and your team; as much as you hate to admit it, the shadows are skilled in the field, even with their misgivings.

the building is another high rise, like the one you infiltrated weeks ago, half-crumpled from the effects of the fighting in the city. price leads the group as you all enter it through a sizeable hole in the wall, clearing out the first floor with trained precision.

the group of shadows form a perimeter just outside as you investigate the interior with price and graves, finding it... empty?

"thought you said this was the nerve center," you mutter, turning to the men as they search around, equally as perplexed as you. "there's nothing here."

price shakes his head, standing up from where he was crouched over some rubble. "there was something here. they must've moved."

"they knew we were comin'." graves says with a frustrated huff. "probably just protecting it to keep up the charade. the real control center could be anywhere in the city."

the two start for the exit with you in tow. "could be outside of it for all we know. we need to contact the other squads." price replies before pausing at the threshold and angling his head upwards. you stop several feet back and send him a confused look, before a low rumbling echoes throughout the building, sending dust and small debris falling from the floors above.

the rumbling stops for a second, until a louder, harsher one follows. larger pieces of wreckage start to loosen and threaten to fall, small bits clattering against the ground.

"shit, the building's too unstable— it's gonna collapse—!" price shouts as a metal beam crashes into the ground less than twenty feet away from you.

while price and graves are able to duck out amidst the falling debris, you're forced to dive backwards after a piece of the floor above falls right into your path. you search for a way around it, but as the violent shaking increases and sends more collapsing down all around you, you realize that cover might be your only option.

you scan the room quickly and dive under a pile of slabs and beams, sturdy enough to not collapse under the weight of falling wreckage, but with just enough room for you to squeeze in underneath.

it's only seconds after you find cover that the thundering sounds of heavy rubble crashing down all around you fills your ears, forcing you to cover them with your hands as each crash makes you flinch.

the worst of the destruction is short-lived. a couple minutes pass by before you're willing to move, the occasional piece of the upper floors still collapsing around you every now and then. you let out a trembling breath once you emerge, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins.

the exit. you hastily search for it, but all hope drains from you when you find it and see that it's completely blocked by the wreckage.

"petra? can you hear me?" price's voice crackles through your radio.

you go to respond, coughing harshly due to all the dirt and dust floating in the air. "i hear you— i'm all right," you tear your eyes from the exit and look for another path. it's a big building, surely you can find something. "just stuck in here." you grumble into the radio.

"we're gonna try to find another way in, see if you can meet us somewhere." he says. you can hear graves barking orders at his men in the background. "be careful." price adds in a rushed tone.

you drop your hand from your radio and clutch your gun close as you carefully traverse the field of debris, mentally thanking whatever higher power that the building only partially collapsed on top of you, instead of crushing you completely.

every movement out the corner of your eyes makes you stop and aim your weapon at it; it's highly unlikely - but not impossible - that you're not alone. anyone could've snuck in after the collapse, or hidden themselves like you did. al-qatala, konni, shepherd's men— you have a lot of enemies and very few allies in the area.

you spin around at the sound of something shifting, but only see a few pieces of wood hitting the ground. you're getting too paranoid. you try to steel yourself, breathing deeply, before a smooth voice makes you choke on the air that gets caught in your throat.

"you are very unlucky, aren't you?"

you turn again, gun drawn and finger on the trigger, but stop short upon seeing a friendly...

well, you see makarov standing across the room. it's an enemy that doesn't seem all-too interested in killing you - for now, at least.

"how did you..." you trail off, lowering your weapon.

apparently understanding your question, he vaguely motions behind himself. "there's a breach." he says, glancing over the destruction as he approaches you.

you squint at him as he draws closer, briefly tightening your grip on your gun. he stops several feet away, though, so you allow yourself to relax just a bit, lowering your weapon.

"i figured you'd be staying far away from al-mazrah, it's an active war zone after all." you comment, earning a dismissive look.

"i don't mind getting my hands dirty," makarov utters with a lofty grin tugging at his lips. "besides, we need to talk."

you cock your head to the side, curious. "and, you couldn't call or text me about this? that's been working out so far." you chuckle softly.

he steps closer again, standing a little over an arm's length away. "i happened to be close by." he responds. "this is also something better discussed in person."

you nod, hesitantly slinging your gun over your shoulder to cross your arms over your chest.

"after our last exchange, i managed to gather more information from my... source." he punctuates the last word with a half-assed attempt at a conciliatory smile. "the mole planted within your group reported to shepherd recently; he's aware of our communication." he continues, before you interrupt him.

"wait, no one knows about this, not even my squad." you assert, taking another step closer to him. you're just under an arm's length away, now.

"there was an agent within the group assigned to your care when you were captured. one of the two men that accompanied us on the first day - he listened in on our conversation and delivered the details to the general." makarov speaks in a hushed tone, one you can just barely hear over rubble crumbling somewhere nearby. "the agent on your end tracked you after you reunited with your squad. something of yours was bugged, they heard us that night."

how could he... most of your belongings were clothes, which you know for certain weren't bugged. the only other item that traveled home with you is your cellphone—

"shit," you mumble, practically tearing your vest pocket open and grabbing your phone. there's nothing obviously wrong with it at first glance, but once you pop the case off and check inside, your suspicions are confirmed.

there's a small tracking device flashing red at you, mocking you, and you rip it out before tossing it on the ground and stomping on it.

"he's heard everything," you say, twisting your boot to scatter the broken pieces. "fuck, if this gets out— i can explain this to my team and make do with the judgement, but if shepherd tells any of his friends in their cushy government positions, i'm dead."

makarov shifts, looking past you, but you don't even notice the action thanks to the adrenaline reflooding your system. "that would be an issue," he mutters, reaching for the holster at his hip. "i suppose i could protect you."

you snort, dragging your gaze from your boot to his face. "i'm not joining your side, even for this."

a thin string of red light shines from the darkness behind you, aimed at the back of your skull. makarov follows it to its source, all but ignoring your rejection, as his fingers wrap around the handle of his desert eagle.

a loud gunshot rings out, echoing against the walls. you instinctively reach for your stomach, preparing yourself for the pain you felt in that dream, body tensing up as it flies into survival mode.

the pain never comes. a heavy thump makes you turn, however, watching as a soldier collapses to the ground. unmarked uniform. one of the general’s men.

"shepherd has not earned your blood. if anyone is going to kill you, it will be me." makarov lowers his gun and meets your muddled gaze. "i suggest you reconsider my offer, petra, and give me a call when you make up your mind."

you’re left in that state as he sidesteps and saunters past you, seemingly disappearing into the darkness himself. you’re sure there’s another exit that you missed, one he’s taking to avoid running into your squad.

his offer. joining him for protection.

you'll never follow makarov or his ideals, much less join him for such a selfish reason. if you can kill shepherd, then you can destroy any evidence and get yourself out of this mess. with graves' cooperation and your team to help, that possibility is well within your reach. the only crime you'll have to answer for is severely disappointing your teammates, but they'll understand.

except, there's no guarantee that graves will help, and the rules of engagement prevent you from taking effective action against shepherd. he may be on the run, but he's an american general - killing him could land the one-four-one in hot water with the government.

that'll only lead to more restrictions, more eyes on you, more questions— there's nothing you can do to stop it.

you need someone without limits. someone the government doesn't have their hands on.

you need makarov.

a series of heavy footsteps alert you to a new presence, snapping you out of your trance. you lift your head in time to see price, graves, and the shadows appear from around a large pile of debris in the same direction that makarov originally approached you from.

"petra!" price calls out, jogging ahead of the group and stopping just in front of you. "you broken?" he asks, placing a firm hand on your shoulder and dragging his gaze across your form, searching for any injuries.

"no, i'm fine. nothing major." you mumble, struggling to find your voice all of a sudden. "just, uh..." you lose it again, your tongue darting out to nervously wet your dry lips.

"something wrong?" he murmurs, quiet enough that graves and his men can't hear from their positions farther away.

you can feel every beat of your heart, rapidly thumping against your ribs to the point of making your chest ache. only price can give you approval to do something so risky, so stupid. he'll understand. he knows the job isn't perfect, but you do what you have to do—

"i have something to confess, captain."

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