#correction: they are happy that the other is now Forced to hold some of their crypto

[apollos-boyfriend]

happy fathers day to schlarklez i hope single dad captainsparklez and child support dodger schlatt are having a good day today with their children named after illnesses and also crumb

they are having a great day the kids all banded their money together and bought a bit of eggcoin for schlatt and a bit of schlattcoin for jordan <3 neither of them are happy with this.

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

summary: You and Sirius are in dire need of a new coach just weeks before the Olympics. Remus is a former figure skating prodigy forced to retire after a career-ending injury. Though it's not smooth skating right away, those stiff Olympic village beds are dying to be broken in.

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: modern au, chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus still wakes before dark every morning. It’s automatic, an urgency and excitement that thrums through him like an old instinct, born from years of his alarm clock rousing him at this time. The rink is always at its best right now, when they’ve just finished resurfacing the ice and no one else is around. It was Remus’ favorite time to practice. 

Now, he has a new reason to get up. His hip clicks as he does it, so he starts his day with a couple of proactive painkillers. If he really wanted to be proactive he would stretch like he’s supposed to, but there’s no time and Remus doesn’t feel like it. He’ll pay his toll for the negligence later. 

The webpage of his Airbnb boasted a five-minute walk to the rink, but with his hip it takes Remus seven. It’s like an odd sort of muscle memory, an old routine from another life that feels as bitter as it does comfortable. He heads out early to give himself some cushion. The streets are empty but for bakers and baristas, the first hints of dawn tinging the sky a deep blue. When he turns a corner and the rink comes into view, the absence of his bag hanging from his shoulder is a phantom ache. 

The front doors are locked but the side one staff uses isn’t, the Zamboni driver already inside. Remus lets himself in, makes a cup of tea from the hot water dispenser they leave out when concessions are closed, plants himself on a bench, and waits. 

And waits. 

And waits. 

Remus has nearly nodded off when two pairs of shoes come bounding up to him. Well, one pair bounds. The other drags. 

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” You’re breathless and hauling a sullen-looking boy along behind you by the hand, but you manage a smile when Remus looks up at you. “I had to run over and get him out of bed. It’s good to meet you!”

You hold out your untethered hand. Remus might normally stand to take it, but he no longer feels like doing you the courtesy. Your grip is firm and warm. 

“You were supposed to be here at six,” he says. 

You wince. “I know. Sorry, Sirius is really not a morning person.” 

Remus thinks that he might put more stock into your apologies if you looked a tad more contrite. As it is, your countenance is almost cheery, a fizzy eagerness about you as you look between him and the ice like you can’t wait to get out on it. 

In stark contrast, the ill-tempered boy behind you seems not to have a clue where he is. He looks rumpled and disoriented, squinting in the rink’s fluorescent light. 

“Then why didn’t you pick another time?” Remus asks. 

He hadn’t realized he was still looking at Sirius, or that the other boy could talk, so it’s a surprise when he answers. “Wasn’t my bloody idea.” 

By the way you grin, Remus wonders if you’ve even heard the obvious bitterness in your partner’s tone, or whether it’s gone straight over your head. 

“I like the rink better early,” you explain. “No one else ever comes before the hockey practice starts at nine, and they’ll have just finished resurfacing the ice.” 

Begrudgingly, Remus nods. “I always preferred it about now, too.” 

He realizes immediately that his agreement was a mistake, because your smile grows into something far too brilliant for the early hour. Christ, what has he gotten himself into? There’s you, starry-eyed and effervescing all over the place, and your partner, who looks more inclined to fall asleep on your shoulder than put on his skates. 

And this is the pair skating duo Remus is supposed to take to the Olympics. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Watch that back foot!” Remus shouts across the ice.

Sirius doesn’t look happy about it, but he corrects the placement of his skate, transitioning smoothly into the next synced turn. 

“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself. 

Once Sirius got out on the ice and woke up a bit, he was good. He skates with the technical proficiency of someone who’s been in the sport since before they started primary school, and the intuitive artistry of someone who loves it. You’re much the same, though your virtuosity and obvious competence are consistently undercut by hesitation, the grace of your movements interrupted when you second-guess yourself. But these—technical prowess paired with devotion—are the basics of what makes a good figure skater. You’ll have to be flawless if you want to do well at the Olympics. 

And Remus has found many flaws. 

“No, no—shit!” Remus stands as you fall out of your jump again, catching yourself on your forearms. “You’re still under-rotating! Come on!” 

Sirius snarls a quick “Hey!” over his shoulder before turning his back on Remus, going to help you up. He speaks to you quietly, checking you over as you stand. Remus seethes. 

He has no clue why he’s been called out here to coach a pair. Remus doesn’t know pairs, has never been a part of one. He was a solo skater. And frankly, it makes him wary that what’s supposed to be the best skating pair in Britain has asked him, a former solo skater who’s been isolated from the figure skating community in general for the past two years, to coach them. But Remus does know figure skating. And he knows when skaters are making stupid mistakes behind their skill level. 

“What aren’t you understanding?” asks Remus as you skate back to the edge of the rink. He really wants to know. “It’s simple. You can do this.” He knows he could have. As easy as breathing, and he would kill to have the chance again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Sirius’ glare is sharp as knives. He steps off the ice before you can, positioning himself between you and Remus. Your lips purse with a knowing sort of apprehension. 

“Sirius…” 

“No, you don’t talk to her like that,” Sirius spits. “It was a tiny mistake.” 

Remus raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “I’m trying to help her! It was a giant mistake, with a simple fix. You ought to be telling her the same, unless you’re okay with your partner snapping her ankle weeks out from competition.” 

“None of that means you get to fucking yell at her! Who do you think you are?” 

“Okay—” 

“I’m her coach,” says Remus, voice rising, “and—”

“Then coach her! Maybe if you’d give some actual fucking feedback instead of just nitpicking—” 

“Okay!” Your shout cuts through the space, echoing in the empty rink and silencing the other two. “That’s enough.” 

You haul Sirius back by his shoulder. Your grip doesn’t look severe enough to move him, but he goes, stepping back to your side. His eyes never leave Remus’. 

Your own gaze jumps between both boys, that same spark he’d seen in you earlier burning with a different light. 

“Let’s call it for today,” you say firmly. “Okay? We’ll try again tomorrow.” 

Neither boy speaks, though Remus nods. It seems to be taking all of Sirius’ willpower to bite his tongue. He gets the impression it isn’t something he succeeds at often, so Remus isn’t ashamed to say that it brings him a perverse sort of joy to see it now. His tiny bit of smugness fizzles out, though, when your eyes land on him. There’s something desolate in your expression that’s a salient deviation from how you’d looked at him before. Remus has the sinking feeling that he’s disappointed you. It’s more distressing than he can account for. 

“We’ll be here on time tomorrow,” you say in that same steady tone. “And my jump, I’ll work on it.” 

Remus nods again. You return it, and when you turn to leave, you drag Sirius after you by his shirtsleeve, picking up your bags along your way. Remus’ mouth feels dry. His lips are chapped, his fingertips hurt from the cold, and the sight of your skates sinking into the rubbery floor makes his hip ache terribly. 

It’s only once you’re nearly out of earshot that he manages to mumble, “Thank you.”

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: YOU SPEAK HIS NATIVE LANGUAGE TO HIM (18+) (One Piece) (for Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: I had this idea after remembering that Luffy is Brazilian. Enjoy! And please, PLEASE let me know if any of the foreign phrases used are not correct or accurate. I did the research on Google. Thank you! -Jazz

*********

LUFFY (PORTGUESE) 

You always loved it when Luffy spoke in his native language. 

He is from Brazil and though he hadn’t lived there in years since meeting Shanks and traveling among the Grand Line with the Strawhats crew, nothing and nobody could ever take the Brazilian out of him. It was in his blood. 

He always made it known with the Brazilian recipes he would ask Sanji to make and the music he would blast across the ship. Usually, this resulted in him forcing you to dance him with and holding your hips as his his swayed and rolled in ways that often resulted in your knees going weak and every part of you becoming tingly and sensitive (including the places where Luffy usually had his mouth on). 

He wouldn’t speak Portuguese often; only sometimes and at random moments, like when something exciting happened or when he was asleep. You would catch him mumbling words in his native tongue as he drooled on the pillow, making you giggle.

He would do it during sex too, usually when his tongue was buried deep in your pussy: “Você tem um gosto tão bom, mama. Deliciosa (You taste so good, mama. Delicious.),” he would mumble into your pussy while you whimpered and moaned.

Or when he had his cock buried deep inside of you as he hammered away at your insides, gripping and smacking your ass: “Tão bom! (So good!)” he’d moan into the bedroom. “C’mon, mama, cum with me! Goze comigo!” 

His usual high-pitched voice would get deeper and raspier in his native tongue as each foreign words rolled and flipped on his tongue. It would make you combust every single time, cumming all over his cock at the same time as him bursting inside of you. He would then peck your forehead once you snuggled up together, his hat on your head. “Te amo,” he’d whisper, never telling you what it meant, but you had a feeling. 

So after picking up on some of his lines and inflections, you decided to try out speaking his language one night. It was a boring night and Sanji was cooking, trying to get Luffy out of the kitchen as he groaned and complained about being hungry.

“Y/N, would you please come get him?” Sanji sighed. “He won’t leave and I’m not gonna have him sneaking the ingredients off of the counter to eat.” 

“I’m not gonna do that!” Luffy protested. “I told you so, Sanji!”

You had giggled and walked to the stereo sitting on the table, playing one of Luffy's favorite songs that was popular in Brazil. The captain’s head immediately shot up from the table, his big eyes staring at you. You smiled and began to sway to the music, opening your arms for him. 

With the biggest grin on his face, he shot up and went to you, immediately gathering you into his arms. You giggled as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck and held your hips as he began to sway with you, your senses invaded by nothing but him. He softly sang the lyrics to you, his voice raspy and soft, each word rolling off of the tongue. He sang has if the very song was written for you and you decided now was the perfect moment. 

“Luffy?” you whispered. He pulled away to look down at you, looking like a confused puppy. You cupped his face in your hands and pressed a kiss to his lips before whispering, very low, “Te amo.” 

Once those gears in his head started turning, you’ve never seen him look so happy. His smile grew about ten sizes before he gripped you to him and coated your face in kisses. “Hey, hey!” Sanji yelled. “Not while I’m cooking! Do that outside!” 

ZORO (JAPANESE) 

Compared to Luffy, Zoro barely spoke Japanese. 

He would only mutter his native language in swears when he was stressed or angry. Other than that, you could never catch him doing it. He barely even spoke about Japan as a whole.

“Why you askin’ so many questions?” he would grumble, glaring at your curious gaze. “I haven’t been there since I was a baby. Go read up on it or somethin’.” 

But when he did speak Japanese, and that was very rare, you loved it. His voice would get even deeper when he spoke the foreign swear words during a battle and it would make your heart skip several beats. You wanted to somehow coax him to speak it more or even be closer to him than you already were. 

So you started teaching yourself Japanese. You collected as many language books as you could during your stops on islands when walking into town with Nami and Robin and began practicing. In two months, you began speaking in sentences though not professionally or fluently. However, you got each inflection down. 

The first time you said something in Japanese to Zoro, he was busy working out one hot, boring day and you had wandered in, feeling extra bratty. “What?” he demanded, grunting as he did his bench presses, his muscles bulging and glistening in sweat. 

“Just came to see if you broke up with your dumbbell yet,” you asked sarcastically. “I don’t know how the cuddling at night works, but to each its own.” 

Zoro cut his forest green eyes your way before going back to his exercises, barely pausing. “Woman, if you’re gonna come in here with that shit, leave it at the door. You know I need to focus on my training.” 

“But you’re already so strong, Zo!” you protested, padding farther into the room. “And a great fighter. You can spare one day without training.”

Though Zoro looked pleased with the praise, he still didn’t let up and continued to pump those sexy arms away at his presses. Pursing your lips, you walked over to him and kneeled down before him, just as he lifted the dumbbell up and put it back up on the rack behind his head. 

You began to run your hands up his thick, tree trunk-like thighs in his green slacks, squeezing the muscles and digging your nails deliciously into them. He liked that. He tensed immediately at your touch, breathing heavily from the workout. “Stop that,” he growled. “I’m tryin’ to cool down.” 

“Then let me help you,” you purred, sneaking your hand over his cock to give it a squeeze. You were pleased to find that he was already hard. He grunted at the contact and began to squirm under your touch. “I mean it, Y/N,” he panted. “Cut it out.” 

You looked up at him then, staring boldly into his eyes. "Watashi o tsukuru (make me)”, you said in a low, breathy voice that often made your man go absolutely insane. 

At the sound of his native language coming from your lips, the swordsman sat up straight and stared down at you, astounded and extremely aroused. His cock grew in your hand as a blush appeared on his cheeks.

“What did you say?” he questioned, his voice dangerously low. You just smiled and stood up, tearing your hand away from his cock.

“Now are you gonna spend time with me?” you questioned, a hand on your hip and arching a brow at him. 

While this didn't get him out of the training room, it did help tear him away from his workout to instead work you out, your legs spread over his bench and his cock pummeling your insides as he whispered how good you felt in Japanese.

Mission accomplished. 

SANJI (FRENCH) 

Sanji always felt proud of his ethnicity and heritage, so he always made it a point to speak his native language. 

Like Luffy, it would be at random moments. He could be cooking and would mutter to himself in French about instructions or maybe lyrics to a song.

Sometimes, he would swear if he nearly dropped a bottle of sauce or about the noise Luffy and Usopp would make outside the kitchen door. But always, when he served you and the crew, he would give you all a bright, proud smile and a “Bon appétit!”. 

And always, always, he would speak French during sex. He would whisper in your ear about how good you felt and how sweet you tasted, his words like honey in your ears.

“Je me send is bien en too, princesse, (I feel so good inside you, princess)” he’d moan into the tense, sexed-up air of your bedroom, your ankles on his broad shoulders as his cock stroked your insides. “Tellement parfait. Si belle. (So perfect. So beautiful).”

He would kiss your foot before taking one of your toes into your mouth. 

That would usually set you off like a rocket, making you cum all over the bed and his cock. And because he thought you were so pretty, he would always explode deep inside you, filling you to the brim. That’s part of why he always let his native tongue slip in the bedroom with you. 

Other than the nasty shit, he would always tell you, “Je t’aime”. When he would kiss you; before you went to bed; when you’d separate for an expedition or when when you’d go to the other side of the ship. It was only right as the love chef. “Je t’aime,” he’d say, an adoring smile on his face and hearts in his eyes. It would make you tingle and feel warm all over you. 

So you surprised him one night when he cooked dinner specifically for you before the crew even ate. “Sanji, baby, you didn’t have to make me a whole separate meal,” you giggled as you sat down in the chair he pulled out for you. “I would’ve eaten the lamb!” 

“Nonsense,” he tutted, looking sexy in his apron dusted with flour and spices. “You said you didn’t like lamb too much. And believe me, honey: fixin’ grilled fish for you is nothing compared to what these hooligans want.” He then pressed a kiss to your cheek and whispered, “Bon appétit, my love” before hurrying back to the stove to check the yeast rolls in the oven. 

You stared down at the dinner spread on your plate: grilled fish drizzled in lemon and garlic with a side of honey-glazed, oven-roasted carrots, kus kus, and steamed broccoli. You cut a piece of the fish and put it into your mouth, humming in pleasure at the taste. You turned to Sanji, his back to you, as you gushed over the food. “This food is delicious, Sanji!” you said. "C'est trés bon! (It's very good!)” 

Sanji visibly paused before turning around to look at you, confused. Your smile grew and you lowered your fork. “Mes compliments au chef (My compliments to the chef),” you giggled. Before you could take a breath, Sanji was flying across the kitchen and planting kisses all over your face as you giggled. “Since when do you speak French, my love?” he laughed, giddy. 

“I’ve been practicing,” you hummed, playing with the color of his shirt. “I wanted to impress you.” Hearts in his eyes, Sanji pressed his forehead against yours. “And impress me, you did, mon there,” he murmured. “Now finish that food so I can hear more of my native tongue coming out of those sweet lips.” 

You did and while he had you bent over the kitchen counter while the crew ate in the other room, you repeated one word to him, over and over again, as he pummeled inside of you: “Je t’aime”. 

LAW (GERMAN) 

Law never spoke German. Or at least, not in front of you or the Hearts crew. 

“What’s the need?” he asked when you asked him to teach you something in his native tongue. “I haven’t lived there in years. Why are you so interested in my language anyway?” You would tell him you were curious, but that wouldn’t make him budge. 

You found it sad. Though he claimed he felt pride in his ethnicity and his native land, he barely mentioned his time there or taught you any phrases. So, in order to coax him into it, you fixed him a German dish. One day when the ship docked on a little island, you ran out to town to grab the ingredients for it and fixed it for him that night. It took a lot of preparation and stressing over whether or not he’d respond well to it, but that night, you sat the crew down for dinner. 

“I made something special for y’all,” you giggled, smiling secretively at Law. He scowled in confusion and suspicion at you, not sure what you were up to, until the crew took the silver covers off of their plates to reveal their meal: slices of roasted pork shoulder glazed with a cumin sauce and sitting on a bed of roasted potatoes and peppers. “Ta-da!” you shouted. “Sh-wen-braten!” 

At you mispronouncing the name, the corner of Law’s lips quirked a bit while his crew barely blinked. They were too busy drooling over and gobbling down their food. “Wow, Y/N!” Bepo growled. “This tastes amazing! I haven't tasted pork this good in so long!” 

“Thank you,” you giggled, but your attention was still all on Law as he took a bite. You stood behind his chair, nervously ringing a dish towel around your hands. “How is it?” you asked, bending down to hear him better over the chatter. 

He continued to chew and chew, leaving you in suspense, before he swallowed. “S’good,” he murmured and you sighed in relief. “Though you pronounced the dish wrong.” You made a face, pouting cutely in confusion at him. “It’s pronounced “schweinebraten,” he said, his deep voice rolling over the foreign word.

“Sch.” He paused, waiting for you to repeat it back to him. “Weine.” You parroted him, doing your best to keep from smiling out of giddiness. “Braten.” 

“Braten,” you pronounced, earning a satisfied nod before he turned back around to finish his meal. But you weren't done. you leaned down to his ear, loving how he tensed at your touch and presence. “Between you and me, I already knew how to pronounce it,” you purred. “I just wanted to hear you say it. Guten appetit (Enjoy your meal).” 

Something happened to Law in that moment hearing you speak in his language. His cock swoll in his pants and he nearly broke his fork as he sat rigid in his seat. You turned and walked away back to the stove, swaying your hips and biting back a grin as he watched, wanting to fuck you right there in front of his entire crew and make you say some very nasty words in his native tongue. 

“Law, why are all red like that?!” Jean practically yelled across the table. 

“Shut up!” Law growled as you laughed. He was gonna get you back for that later tonight.

[amywritesthings]

chocolate-covered silver. / a levi ackerman valentine's ficlet.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) word count: 1.8k summary: Happy Valentine's Day readers. Why not celebrate with some Levi Ackerman smut? note: set in the universe of silver underground

tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! pre-aot, levi's pov, explicit language, secret relationship, gifts, eating desserts, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), touch-starved idiots credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

He could kill Hange for this.

A nice gesture, they said — as if he doesn’t already wait on James hand and foot whenever the other Scouts aren’t looking.

She’ll love it, they promised — but not without adding a probably after the sourpuss scowl started forming on his face.

He’s been her close friend for over a decade. 

He’s been in her bed for a fraction of that.

So why does walking to her quarters with a tiny bouquet of hand-picked flowers and imported chocolate from Wall Sina feel like such a death march?

“I’m only trying to help you out,” Hange quipped last week, interrupting his perfectly-happy afternoon tea. “Is it not a day people celebrate in the Underground City?”

“We don’t celebrate stupid shit in the Underground,” Levi corrects, fingertips locked around the mouth of his cup. “And besides, it’s a married couple’s holiday.”

“Not always,” Hange argues, finger lifting in a contrarian manner. “People who date celebrate.”

“That’s not us.”

He’s not technically wrong.

You’re not dating, but he doesn’t know what the hell this is.

Hange’s smile only widens at that. “Friends celebrate, too.”

“Then where’s my flowers, shithead?” Levi retorts.

That earns a bark of a laugh from the Section Commander. “If you want me to go pick you some flowers to put in your stallion’s hair, Levi, make no mistake — I will run out there right now.”

“That’s a present for my horse, not for me.”

Hange waggles their brows, leaning over the table and ruining his peace. “Gives you ample opportunity to pick some flowers for our hardworking Lieutenant, too.”

He told them to go away.

Now, six days later, he’s here.

He’s showing up like a dumbass at her doorstep trying not to run the other way before you know. 

Are you going to think he’s an idiot for partaking in holidays that mean nothing to them?

The only gift he’d ever given you was that damned necklace you never take off. It was the only thing he could afford back then, down there, while they fought for their lives.

Although they may be still in the fight for their lives here, too, he can afford much, much more for you now.

He will buy you a thousand silver necklaces if you want them.

Clearing his throat, the Captain takes a moment to collect his resolve before tapping a knuckle against the wooden door frame.

You shuffle behind it. You must have been going over presentation plans Erwin sent over.

He debates on putting the flowers behind his back or—

“Levi?”

Shit.

Too late.

He stares at you when you open the door, blinking twice. You mirror the movements, blinking between the box and the bunch of flowers in either hand.

Mistake.

Mistake, mistake, mistake—

“Are those…?” you start, trying to hide your amusement.

Levi scowls and holds out the bouquet. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”

“I was gonna say ‘handpicked’,” you reply with a snort, taking the flowers gently from his hand. Levi can feel his heart beating a mile a minute as he waits with a forced stoicism. “What’s the occasion?”

He stops breathing altogether when you lean down to smell the aroma of the bouquet. The way your face melts from stress to enjoy the moment, the scent, has him weak in the knees.

For someone that’s been labeled humanity’s strongest, you sure have a way of making his knees buckle from nothing.

“It’s… Valentine’s Day up here,” he carefully states, hating every syllable of it.

“Valentine’s Day?” you repeat, holding the flowers close to your chest. You step back, allowing him access to your quarters. Levi doesn’t hesitate to enter.

“Some holiday where people celebrate—”

“—lovers?” you finish for him, and the captain feels like he’s trudged in quicksand. “I know. Hange mentioned it to me the other week.”

Fucking Hange.

“Funny that they did,” Levi grumbles, before turning on a heel. You close your door as he extends his arm with his second gift. “You’re supposed to spend the day with someone special to you. Someone — well, it can be a friend —”

“Oh, we’re friends?” you tease him as you take the box of chocolates.

You’re going to kill him.

“James.”

“What? It’s nice to reaffirm — oh, shit.”

He stops in his tracks, painfully aware that you’ve gasped. His eyes slide to the now-opened box full of exquisite chocolate, throat now tight with uncertainty.

Maybe you hate it.

He really shouldn’t have listened to Hange.

“This is real chocolate,” you whisper, and that uncertainty melts into something so very warm.

“As opposed to fake chocolate?” he asks to keep his wits about him. To see you scowl.

“You know what I mean, Ackerman,” you snip, and he fights every muscle in his face to keep a smile at bay. “Where the hell did you get this stuff?”

“Don’t worry about it. Here.”

He steps confidently across the bedroom floor boards to pluck a piece of chocolate out of the box, holding it up towards your lips.

“Open.”

He knows that shift in your gaze when your eyes meet.

Yeah, Valentine’s Day is known for stuff like that, too.

(He can show you.)

Obediently you part your lips, widening your mouth so he can fit the chocolate right between your teeth. It catches, and you use your tongue to pull it into your mouth.

The pleasure is instantaneous. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the real-time image burning the back of his mind, and he can’t hold back anymore.

“Is it good?” he asks, placing his hands on your hips.

“Better than good.” You hold out a piece for him. “Open.”

He hesitates when the little ball comes to his lips, but eventually he opens his mouth. You’re not wrong — it’s delicious. They don’t make anything like this underground. 

It’s a luxury, though he had intended only for you to enjoy them.

Of course you’d include him.

“See what I’m talking about?” you ask with an excitement that’s damn adorable.

“It’s fine,” Levi answers, knowing the indignance that’s bound to flutter over your face. He huffs a breathless laugh before swallowing the chocolate down. “Come here.”

Lifting one hand to your chin, he pulls you in with nonexistent resistance. Your lips brush against his, at first slow then sensual.

He wants to tell you.

(Your lips taste like chocolate, but you taste better.)

But he’d rather show you.

He glides forward, using the hand on your hip to steer.

You easily comply with his steps forward, guiding you back to your bed. His plan must be in the back of your mind as he kisses you like it’s his last, but he can feel it — the way your lips curve in that knowing smile.

“What are you doing?” you murmur, voice velvety with want. It drives him insane.

“Celebrating you,” Levi mumbles in return, pushing your body backwards.

You easily fall to the bed and he drops with you, knee to the mattress. Levi crawls down, down, to the edge of the mattress with his hands preoccupied with the zipper of your casual trousers. 

You don’t ask what he’s doing — all you do is giggle when he impatiently tugs the fabric down.

“As a lover or a friend?” you tease once your legs are freed.

Levi doesn’t answer.

Not verbally, anyway.

He wraps an arm around your hips, keeping you in place as he swats your legs wider. Your breath hitches from surprise — good, you’re too mouthy right now and he intends to remind you.

Friend, lover, it doesn’t matter.

It’s all synonymous to him.

You’re everything.

His past, his present —

And if he can bury his face into your pussy for the rest of his days, then it’s one hell of a future he can get behind.

The squeak of surprise rips from your lungs faster than you can stop the noise, and Levi is wholly satisfied by the sound. His tongue drags along your slit, coating his mouth with the taste of you mixed with the chocolate still lingering on his taste buds, and he groans.

This.

This is the only thing he needs for this dumb fucking holiday.

“Le—”

You can’t even finish his two-syllable name. You squirm, curse, arch, as he laps once, twice, before paying special attention to your clit.

Yeah, you won’t think straight now.

He knows you.

When his eyes flicker up from his work, he sees the way you struggle to watch him with that flushed face; how your chest heaves in that cotton shirt; how you want to encourage him, beg him, but your mind’s blank whenever his tongue swirls that precious clit of yours.

With his eyes, he says everything he needs to:

This is what I want. This is my gift from you.

Then he sucks lightly on your clit, rhythmic and calculated, and you have to slam your hand over your mouth to avoid screaming. 

Good. 

Fight to keep this a secret.

Because if it was his choice, he often thinks about ruining this — the image of a captain and a lieutenant, platonic and brave, like you’re not riding him in the middle of the night after a hard day of exploration and failures.

Like he’s not finger fucking you in the hallways as a reward after dealing with the higher ups in meetings upon meetings upon meetings.

Like you’re still two teenagers sneaking around, an underground flipped upside-down.

He hums and the vibrations make your legs shake. He has to keep from grinning, too focused on getting you to the edge by his mouth and his mouth alone.

You grow quiet when you’re almost there.

It’s been dead silent for several seconds.

He works overtime, arms locked around your hips to keep you in his orbit, as he licks and sucks and flicks his tongue side to side when—

That devastating sob.

The way your body arches like a woman possessed.

Thighs slam into his ears, making him feel dizzy, but he doesn’t stop.

Not until you whimper and tug and push at his hair to go away, and even then—

One last lick, for doing such a good job.

“You’re a menace,” you finally breathe, letting go of your mouth as your palm rests on your sweat-beaded forehead instead.

Levi lazily kisses down your inner thighs as you come back to planet Earth, proud of just how fast it took this time to get you there. He’s getting better at this, every single day.

Soon enough you won’t last a minute.

He’s determined for it.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m not sorry about it,” he murmurs, lips shiny and red from his efforts.

You laugh, and his heart swells.

“I think I like this holiday.”

Yeah.

Levi thinks he can get behind this holiday, too.

[ivesambrose]

PAC : September 2024 Mini Messages

1. 2. 3.

And we're almost in fall 🍁

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Picture 1

You'll be feeling the urge to socialize or reconnect with friends and loved ones this month. Likely even connect with new people that inspire you and reignite a spark within you. It seems like as you're headed for autumn you begin to experience your personal spring. There's a lot in your mind and heart and it's been repressed there for quite some time now because you haven't found the right means to express them or the people to express them to but this: shall change. I see you wanting to maintain more balance and diplomacy in your life this month instead of extremes. In a way you've told yourself, "Hey I've done enough push and pull, let me allow things to fall in place." A lot of you might focus on regulating your nervous system, some of you might be starting therapy or just being more attentive about your mental health. Some of you might collaborate or work with others especially if you're an artist or creator of any kind. I also see a select few coming out of hiding and gaining the confidence to put themselves out there. This month will also end on a joyful note for you. You'll also be pursuing something your heart feels really called to. You'll also feel cherished and cared for, this could be from a special someone or your friends and family or the community you're proud of. You'll feel a lot less alone, you never really were.

Picture 2

Leaving all that heartache behind. Bit by bit. Holding your life by the reigns by finding the courage within. There's no need to wait for anyone to help you through this, just begin. I know certain anguishes weigh rather heavily but it doesn't have to be a permanent resident there. A lot of you are planning on moving away from a present location that hasn't been bringing you peace you'l likely end up executing it before this year ends. Sometime around this month itself you'll find yourself feeling emotionally renewed. Opportunities coming up that you had been praying for since long but you feel nervous taking up because emotional fulfillment somehow feels scary to you. Feel the fear and do it anyway. Take the plunge because it'll lead to you feeling proud and successful of yourself. I also see a peak in finances or you saving up enough to afford something that makes you really happy. If you have pets you'll be spending more time with them or even consider adopting one. You'll start finding joy in the things you used to years back. Hold onto this feeling. For some reason the song, 'Innocence' by Avril Lavigne came through for this pile as well. If you resonate deeply with music, then this song definitely has a message for you.

Picture 3

A mental breakthrough. I see you being assertive and maybe even cut throat with your goals. I also see a lot of you disciplining your mind to the maximum. Correcting any negative thought and assumption. You'll also find yourself emerging victorious no matter what situation you're facing. There's a specific turn of events and fate for you. Fall overall is a significant time for this pile. I see you embracing joy diligently, making new friends and connections and making plans with your loved ones. You have chosen to let your inner child experience everything they have been forced to let go of. Do not dim your own light this month. You were meant to shine. You were meant to stand out. Some of you might also have a significant secret admirer as well. They see you as the break of dawn after a dark and solemn night and want to pretty much make you feel the same it seems. You'll find yourself wanting to relax more and allow things to come to you. Stressing and forcing on the other hand might lead to discord and feeling burnt out. It seems as though you had been fearing the worst but there has been a pleasant change of plans for you. You will be starting a new chapter in your life, you'll be rather stubborn about it too, brainstorming quite a bit, might encounter a few conflicts here and there but nothing good team work can't solve. This will eventually lead you to the version of you that you have in mind.

[writersdrug]

I Don't Need You

Chapter 13. Each Other

Masterlist

Summary: Ridgeback was right: you and König make a good pair on the battlefield. Though, that doesn't mean the mission still can't go wrong.

Warnings: cursing, German that I'm too lazy to translate (nothing important), violence and blood, reader gets socked

As much as a leader should be, and as much as I hated to admit it, Ridgeback was right about everything he’d said: König and I made a decent team.

The morning after König’s temper tantrum, he was waiting outside of my door before breakfast. He mumbled something about “need to work together”, before turning on his heel and marching towards the mess hall. I stared after him, confused, but quickly grabbed my jacket when he barked at me to keep up with him. He was still grumpy, sure… but he wasn’t grumpy with me. Ridgeback must have given him an earful.

For the rest of the day, it was impossible to shake him. He ran training courses with me as we both got a feel for how the other worked. I figured out that König was truly a tank, in every sense of the word. Any poor “enemy” corporal that stood in his way was either launched to the side or pelted with a minimum of five rubber bullets to the head. And this was just a practice course; I couldn’t imagine what he would look like on the field. I was happy to be his six, his shadow that cleaned up the mess behind him. I made sure any stragglers were swiftly taken out, and that no one could sink a bullet into his back as he maneuvered through the course.

It was flawless. It made Ridgeback smirk as the two of us made our way back to the start of the run. His eyes held a thousand I told you so’s that made König scoff and my eyes roll. Still, it was obvious that we worked well together.

After that, I had a brief period of solitude when I retreated into the shower. As soon as I emerged from my barracks, König was there – leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. He followed to the mess, where we ate in silence. In the common area I pulled out a checkers bord and challenged him to a game; König obliged, opting to put his phone down and entertain my request. It was only a few, shameful minutes before he had me beat; He chuckled as I pouted and flipped on the TV, letting some foreign movie drone on and pretending I was invested.

It wasn’t humiliating to have him connected to my hip, nor was it suffocating. It felt good to know I had molded so well to someone in the team; that I could see how useful I was. But König was certainly… unexpectedly clingy. “Forcing himself” wasn’t the correct term, but it wasn’t hard to see that he was straining his limits. There was still something holding him back from accepting that we were a decent pair, even if it was just in combative circumstances. Part of me wanted to call him out on his behavior and tell him to stop being a child – then again, I didn’t want to start an argument. Not with the next mission right around the corner. So I let him be.

In addition to the dynamic between König and I, Ridgeback had been right about the mission: it was a downright bitch. Based in some tiny village on the edge of Narikala, Georgia, backed against a thick, snowy forest. The air was bitterly cold, nipping at my cheeks and seeping in through the fingertips of my gloves. I sat next to König on the heli, absentmindedly letting my knee rest against his thigh to savor any warmth I could get. He bounced his knee anxiously – in excitement or nervousness, I couldn’t tell.

Not five minutes after the heli had touched the ground did all hell break loose. König and I jumped out of our seats and were immediately met with a storm of bullets. Pedestrians had already started panicking when they heard the blades of the helicopter – now, they were screaming, running to take cover in the shabby, concrete structures that lined the streets. It was a miracle that we didn’t get separated then and there – well, not much of a miracle. König had grabbed me by my vest and yanked me to the side, out of the line of fire. He didn’t let me go until we had made it into one of the buildings, dropping me rather unceremoniously onto my feet.

From there, things only got worse – but we were able to manage it. Rose and Horangi weren’t far behind us as we cleared each room for them. It was nothing short of difficult: some of the enemy soldiers were able to land a decent jab to König’s side, despite being killed no less than three seconds later by a bullet to the neck.  He seemed… giddy, like a teenage boy playing some first-person-shooter game in an arcade. It was all game to him; throwing punches and firing his assault rifle, occasionally dropping a laugh and scampering off to find his next victim.

Covering his six was surprisingly a simpler task on the field than in training. König didn’t leave anything but dead bodies in his wake. I spent more time helping him with what was hitting him head on. He used his gun more often as a bludgeoner than an actual rifle, ramming it into the faces and stomachs of anything that crossed his path. I forced myself not to focus on it too much – the idea of him relishing in the massacre of others threatened to shake me from my objective, but I pushed past it and continued to follow him through the buildings.

The stench of iron was strong now; the sounds of gunfire and voices shouting in a foreign language echoed across the various concrete walls, but I was all too attuned to it by now. The two of us reached the building where the hostiles had set up their temporary base, covered by thick walls and satellite dishes on the roof. König took the upper ground, running up the stairs on the side of the building. I pulled up next to the lower entrance and cleared one side – almost instantly, a hostile soldier clocked me on the opposite side, right in my face with the butt of his rifle. My back hit the wall before I realized what was happening, but I didn’t hesitate to fire my gun from where I was propped up on the floor. My pulse thrummed loudly in my ears as I blinked a few times, pulling myself up to my feet with a grunt.

Roze and Horangi entered shortly after; Roze grimaced, placing her gloved hand on my helmet and turning my cheek towards her. “That’s gonna be a shiner. You ok?”

I sniffed and cleared my throat. “I’ve had worse.”

“That’s right.” She replied proudly, tapping my helmet, before running off to one of the monitors. “Horangi! The drive.” She jerked her head in his direction.

He pulled a hard disc from his cargo pants pocket, tossing it across the room; Roze caught it effortlessly and jammed it into the towers of one of the monitors, plugging in a passcode cracker.

“They’re calling in backup.” He said, glancing through one of the windows. “Don’t even care who they’re aiming at, civilians or us.”

“Have you heard from Majka?” I asked, unable to hide the slight worry in my tone. “Exfil?”

“No. Comms are still down.” He said bluntly. Even he was nervous, missing the usual, cocky lilt in his tone. “Last I heard, Fender and O’Connor were still on the west side, clearing the exit. Castillo and Zero are setting up foxhole.”

I nodded. Everyone still seemed to be on track, at least – it was daunting not to have Majka in our ears, keeping us connected with who had what position. König was the only one with a ham radio directly to Majka – it was the only line we had to any sort of commanding voice.

“I’ll find König.” I said, tapping Horangi’s arm. “Castillo and Zero will have your backs on the way out. We’ll guard the entrance.”

He nodded, before swiftly crossing the room to stand next to Roze: still bend over the monitor and typing furiously on the keyboard. I turned on my heel and left through the way I came, clearing the room left and right, then running to the edge of the building where I had last seen König. The air was quiet with the lack of shouts, despite the abundance of guns firing. Would König make a sound if he was being attacked? Would he stay silent? How would I know if he was injured? What if he was already?

Suddenly, a massive figure rounded the corner. For a moment I raised my rifle, aiming at the soldier’s chest – until I realized it was König. Switching teams as often as I had made it a struggle to remember who to shoot and who not to shoot, but it was easy to recognize his lumbering form anywhere.  

He didn’t bother with the pleasantries. “Exfil isn’t coming.” He said, maneuvering his body to press flat against the side of the building. He tucked his ham radio back into his tactical vest.

“Huh?!” I snapped, following closely behind him. “The fuck do you mean?”

“You see this?!” he gestured to the chaos around us – it was fairly congested with enemy soldiers. Although we made good headway, we were outnumbered. “They won’t be able to get in here. Majka said we need to get out; he has evac on the way, but it’ll take time.”

I scowled, more at the situation than at König. I knew Roze and Horagni could handle themselves, and they were more than safe with Castillo and Zero on their backs. What got me was the retreat; I’d only ever retreated twice before (ironically, both times falling under Price’s command), and it only did more harm than good.

Before I could give it any more thought, König’s thick fingers were wrapped around my vest again, pulling me behind him. I steeled my nerves as we wound through the buildings, dodging bullet rain and civilians as they sought cover. König appeared to be running us towards the forest, taking us closer to the edge of the village.

“What about the others?” I shouted over the commotion, as he dragged us past the large, stone walls at the entrance of the town. They would essentially be trapped in the center of the gunfire.

“They’re fine.” He said bluntly, dragging me up the hill and towards the tree line, not entertaining the issue I presented. Whether he was truly confident with that statement, or burying his concern for the sake of focusing, was beyond me. I had to trust him; the snow beneath my feet made it difficult to keep my pace with him, but he had yet to let go of my vest, so I had no choice but to stumble after him.

A glance back at the village had my stomach clenching in worry. Would they be able to get out? I looked around at the bodies strewn in the snowy terrain around us, some civilians, some enemies, some of our own. Gunfire continued to echo through the frigid air – Evac wouldn’t be here for a while, I realized, staring at one of the cadaver’s rucksacks – which might not even matter, if we froze to death in the woods. We certainly weren’t prepared to wait out in the freezing cold, however, a native to Georgia might. I dug my heels into the ground and ripped myself from König’s hold, acting on an impulsive survival instinct.

“Was machst du?!” König yelled a babble of German that I ignored. I skidded to a halt by one of the bodies and rolled it over (with difficulty), searching frantically. C’mon, c’mon… I tore open the pockets on his tactical belt and scavenged what I though was useful. König scanned around us – the sound of bullets flying, along with the fact that we were not trying to move away from it, wasn’t sitting well with him.

“We need to go!” he shouted.  

“Alright alright!!” I said, finally snatching the backpack off of the body. Hopefully this is enough…

“Komm!!” König finally ran back, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me back towards the trees. I shouldered the backpack and followed closely behind. We ran as fast as we could up the hill – I struggled to match König’s wide stride, but his grip on my wrist forced me to keep up, or risk getting it torn off if I slowed down.

The sound of a rifle firing nearby made us both jump. König must have assumed the battle stayed within the village walls, however, we were sorely mistaken. The bullets landed in the snow beside us, barely missing our backs. I looked over my shoulder and saw two enemy soldiers steadily following us, shooting in our direction as they clamored up the hillside. I mumbled a curse – König kept tugging me upwards as bullets whizzed by our heads.

“Keep moving!” he ordered – though it fell on deaf ears.

I tore my wrist from König’s grasp and ripped my assault rifle from over my shoulder.

“Scheisse – Bonnie!” he shouted angrily, but I ignored him. If I didn’t try to kill them now, they were going to follow us into the woods.

I fell to my stomach, aimed the gun, and fired. The first few bullets took out the closest soldier – the other one ducked low to the ground, and that combined with the angle of the hill made it harder to hit him. He took position and fired again, missing my leg by a few inches. I pressed myself down, steadying my aim, and fired a final, fatal bullet into his back. He jolted from the impact before falling limply against the snow.

König grabbed me by the collar and pulled me up. “Auf mich!” he shouted, ushering me in front of him. I ran ahead while he scanned across the hill one last time, before we both stumbled into the line of trees.

I did my best to steady my breathing as we continued to sprint, despite the adrenaline starting to wear off. My thighs and shoulders were burning as the effects of the fight were finally catching up to me. Branches from the trees whipped against my body as I ran, stinging and scratching against my skin. Eventually, König passed me – lucky bastard with those stupid-ass long legs – and took the lead, running further and further into the dense thicket of trees. He started to slow down, deciding that we had gotten far enough away from the village.

Retreat always left a sour taste on my tongue.

I rested my hands on my knees, gasping desperately for air. My throat felt like it was burning and my entire body was shaking from the post-adrenaline rush. König leaned against a tree, his head lolling back as his chest heaved up and down. We were both spent – at this point, if there was still anyone pursuing us, our best bet would have been to hide – or just surrender.

I straightened up, placing my hands on my hips and tilting my head back. God, this is going to hurt later. König pushed himself away from the tree. His breathing had slowed to a normal pace, although the stress on his body was evident in every other aspect.

“What was that?!” he spat, pointing back towards the field.

A deep, fiery anger quickly began to simmer in my chest. I slowly looked at König, hands still on my hips and my expression furious. “What the fuck was what, colonel?” I said, my tone clear as day: tread lightly.

“That stunt you pulled earlier.” He stood directly in front of me, looking down through his mask with obvious anger. “Fucking posting up on the hill like that, acting like-“

“You mean saving our goddamn lives?!” I stepped forward so that I was right up against him, despite having to crane my neck up to meet his gaze. “Doing my fucking job?”

“We were fine!” he seethed. “They weren’t hitting us, yeah?”

“Yeah – because I fucking killed them, you’re welcome!” I glared at him with an irate look. “They would have pursued!”

“You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“Well guess who’s alive and who’s dead, huh?!”

“You made yourself an easy target by stopping there!”

“Are you fucking blind?! Or deaf? Did you hear anything that I just said, dipshit?!”

“Vorsichtig…” König spat at me, sticking a thick finger in my face.

“I don’t speak dumbass.” I retorted.

König’s eyes widened with fury, and he leaned down so that his face was inches from mine. “Hör mal, du kleiner Mistkerl- “

Suddenly, he stopped. I continued to stare directly into his eyes, adorning my own defiant glare. He was looking back at me, however, he was focused on something else. He glanced over my head, in the direction of the battle. Realizing he spotted something, I froze in place and listened intently. After a few moments, we heard the sound of quick footsteps, distant, yet approaching. An irritated voice was shouting as they ran towards us through the trees.

We both turned and ran. König ducked behind a tree and grabbed my arm (perhaps I wasn’t fast enough for him to tolerate) – he pulled me against him, with an arm around my waist, holding my own against my sides. He pressed himself against the tree, and his hand roughly covered my mouth. I didn’t even say anything…

We waited silently, listening as the soldier drew nearer. König’s hand around my waist grew tighter by the second, and his hand pressed harder against my mouth, as if he thought I might yell out to the assailant. The footsteps grew closer – the person didn’t even try to mask the sounds they made, speaking loudly into their comm. “I lost sight of the runners.” She said.

Dumb bitch, we weren’t that fast.

“Copy.” She replied to the inaudible voice on her comm. She quickly slipped by us without taking notice of our bodies, not even twenty feet from her. Once we were behind her, König expertly maneuvered us to the other side of the tree, his hand never leaving my mouth. I struggled to breathe against it, as his entire hand covered from my chin to my nose. But we waited quietly for the footsteps to fade into the distance, and then some more, until König was satisfied that she was gone.

He released my mouth; I fell to my knees and gasped for air. “Holy shit-“ I wheezed.

“Sorry…” he said wearily; a complete one-eighty from his recent outburst. I waved a hand at him, signaling that it was ok. He waited in silence as I struggled to catch my breath. The tension from moments before had subsided, although not completely. König shuffled awkwardly on his feet, rubbing a hand on the back of his head.

“I didn’t need to say all that…” he finally spoke. “I was just… fick, I don’t even know. It was a close call.”

I got back onto my feet. “Don’t worry about it.” I said, clearing my throat and dusting my pants off. “Just curious, what did you even say? In German?”

König looked at me, unmoving. “Ah…” he rubbed the back of his head. “Use your imagination and you’d probably be right. I’d rather not get into any more trouble today.”

I nodded, choosing to let the topic slide. “I’m sorry too… I shouldn’t have said those things about you… to a fucking colonel, too.” I said with an apologetic chuckle.

König shrugged. “I’ve heard worse. What you said was tame.” He paused a moment, then broke away from my gaze, looking at his surroundings and sighing. He paused in the direction of where the soldier had disappeared into. “I wonder why she would move so far away from the fight…” he said,  “that seems reckless.”

I shrugged. “She was following orders.” I replied, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck from side to side. “But the way she tracks is what’s piss-poor; heard that bitch from a mile away.”

König chuckled. “With a sniper rifle and a good angle, I could shoot her from here.” He held his hands up, positioning his non-existent gun on his shoulders, aiming in her direction. His shoulder blade was soaked in blood; something I hadn’t picked up before. It made me panic momentarily – when did he get that? Was that before or after we fled? – but I soon noticed that it wasn’t that deep. It needed to be patched up, for sure, but he wasn’t suffering from blood loss.

“Right, well“ - I slipped the backpack off of my shoulders and began rifling through it- “before we try chasing her down, you need stitches.”

Arms still in the air, König looked back at the cut. “Eh,” he began, reaching over to touch it. “I think I will be fine, this could be worse.”

I nodded and pulled out a suture kit. “Exactly: we’re gonna fix it before it does get any worse.” I pointed a finger at him. “On the ground, big guy.”

König dropped to his knees (a little too quickly) and stared up at me. I paused, shocked at the immediate obedience, and chuckled to myself. I got down on my knees, and König shifted to fully sit down so that I was at a comfortable level with his shoulder.

“You’re gonna need to take your shirt off.” I said. “I’m not tearing it up when it’s this cold. You’ll need it.”

König faltered, as if he was going to protest, but all that came from him was a sigh. He started with his arm guards, followed by his tactical belt, radio antenna, and his helmet, tossing them into a pile next to him. He pulled the hem of his shirt from his waistband, then paused. “Mask stays on.” He ordered.

I raised my hands defensively. “Fine by me.” I reached a hand under the back of his shirt, snaking it up and through the top of his collar. I could feel the smooth muscle of his back covered by a layer of sweat, despite the cold weather. I grabbed the back of his mask and pulled it back underneath his shirt. “Hold the front end under the shirt and then take it off. I’ll hold it back here.”

His breath hitched in his throat, followed by a very visible shiver. He reached through his shirt to grab the front end of his mask, before pulling the shirt over his head, wincing as it peeled away from his wound, and discarded it with the rest of his gear.

The cut was deep and angry, but thankfully it wasn’t terrible. König definitely needed stitches – luckily, that would be the only thing he needed. I grabbed a bottle of iodine solution from the kit as he watched, and he sighed. He pulled one of his gloves off and folded it between his teeth, preparing for the pain.

“Quick sting-“ I warned, popping the lid off of the bottle and pouring it sparingly over the wound. König inhaled sharply and groaned, barely muffled by the glove. I winced at his pain and mumbled an apology. I started threading a suture through his skin, focusing hard on being as gentle as possible. I could feel each fiber of his muscle tugging against the thread. His back was tense, flexed and unmoving as I worked. I peered at the scars on his back; some small, some long, some were thin lines, and others were wide gashes. Even a few bullet scars here and there. I noticed a dusting of freckles smattered across his upper back, thinning out the further down they traveled. Kinda looks like falling stars…

“Scheisse!” he suddenly growled, bringing me back to the situation at hand. Get it together – bad time to get distracted. I glanced up at him and watched as he breathed forcefully through the pain. He would suck a long breath in, before pushing it out between tightened lips, ending it with a small groan.

I looked back down to the wound and continued working. “Sorry, it shouldn’t be too much longer here.”

“Eh, you’re fine.” He said through clenched teeth. “I’ve done this plenty of times, though it never gets any easier.”

I tied off the last suture and grabbed the peroxide once more. I showed it to him as a heads-up. He chuckled. “Give me your hand for this one, yeah?”

I smirked and offered my hand, which he held tightly. He shoved the glove back into his mouth and faced the opposite direction, as if he was trying to be as far away from the pain as possible. I poured the solution on the stitched cut and he immediately hissed in pain. His hand squeezed mine with an inhuman amount of pressure, popping my knuckles and sending pain through my fingers, and I mumbled my own string of expletives. Remind me to never let him do that again. I quickly covered the wound with a piece of gauze and some tape, my hand still occupied by König’s.

“Sorry…” he said, releasing my hand.

I examined my fingers. “All good. I probably deserved that.”

“For what?” he asked, grabbing his shirt and slipping it back over his body.

“I dunno…” I said, leaning back on my heels as he turned to look at me. “I got you distracted on the field.”

“Anything could have distracted me. I’m glad it was just you…” He sat back against the tree. “… and nothing more dangerous.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “You don’t think I’m dangerous?” I quipped.

König laughed and shook his head. “At least not to me. The only thing I fear in you is your attitude. It’s quite sour.”

I scrunched my nose at his comment, followed by a playful jab to his shoulder. He inhaled sharply in pain and I winced, realizing that I had struck his wound. “Sorry!”

Night had fallen (quicker than we expected), and the forest was now freezing. We decided against making a fire, in case the enemy was still clearing out the field. I had been hoping and praying that the rest of them were alright: that Roze, Horangi, and everyone else had made it out of the village and into the woods somewhere, or at least managed to find evac, once they had gotten there. I would let myself freeze to death in the forest if I knew thy had died there. Still, the not knowing was almost worse.

König was pressing his back against a tree with his arms folded over his chest – surprisingly, he wasn’t shivering, but he still looked irritated with the current weather. He occasionally paced around our hiding spot, scanning the woods for any sign of… anything, really. But the world remained quiet, save the crunching of the ground under König’s heavy steps and my teeth clacking together.

I was frigid. I had crouched against the base of a tree, knees tightly scrunched to my chest with my arms tucked in between them. I was blowing warm breaths over my fingers – the fingertips of my gloves were cut off long ago to help have a better grip on things, and the current situation made me regret making that choice. My muscles twitched and shivered as my body tried to generate what little heat it could, which wasn’t much. My fingers and toes began to sting from the cold. Never thought I’d die from hypothermia… first time for everything, I guess.

König rubbed the sides of his arms, clearly not as cold as I was. He stopped pacing, watching me as the sound of my chattering echoed through the small patch of woods we were in. “You alright there?”

I nodded, never meeting his gaze. “P-eachy.” I said, my shivering taking over my voice.

“You won’t make like this before evac gets here.” He scanned the woods again, as if our rescue was about to come running through the trees any second now. Wishful thinking.

“Hopefully it d-oesn’t take that l-long for me t-o pass.” I joked. Neither König nor I found it funny.

König sighed. He dropped himself at the base of a tree and leaned back, spreading his legs in front of him. He looked at me and patted the ground in between them expectantly.

For a moment, I was taken aback enough to stop shivering. “Huh?”

“Come here.” He said, frustrated. “I’m trying to warm you up, blödmann. I’d rather not have you die right next to me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew whatever he called me was an insult. “No thanks, I’ll be f-fine.” I turned my head back down, exhaling warmth over my fingers. The thought of sitting in König’s lap like that was embarrassing, and something I was absolutely not about to do. Ever.

He stared at me, his eyes blank. I could feel the irritation radiating off of him, but I didn’t care. He couldn’t force me to do anything, and I know he wouldn’t try.

“It’s an order.” He stated firmly, his voice slightly deeper than before.

I looked at him with surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Are you forgetting that I’m a colonel?” he questioned, cocking his head to the side.

I scoffed. “Sometimes you forget- “

“I’m not going to repeat myself, sergeant.” He warned.

And there it was. That feeling. That electric zap in my lower abdomen. That stupid sensation that had got me in trouble with Ghost over a year ago. All from a single order from my superior. I stared at König, hoping my arousal wasn’t obvious, as I attempted to shank every single butterfly in my stomach. Christ, get it together you slut…

I sighed, standing up and moving towards König, who chuckled smugly. Rather than sit in between his legs, I planted myself next to him, our shoulders and hips touching. I brought my knees to my chest again while his remained splayed out in front of him. The excitement I felt earlier was gone, now replaced with an awkwardness. I couldn’t stop the small frown that settled on my face.

König froze at our touch, seeming to feel the awkwardness too. It was a bit amusing, seeing him flop between being cocky and sheepish. Eventually, he relaxed, ever so slightly leaning into my side. Soon, he gained enough courage to wrap an arm around my shoulders.

Reflexively, I tensed and pulled away a bit. “You don’t need – “

“I don’t want to hear it, Bonnie.” He said, pulling me back in. His words expressed superiority, yet his voice sounded anxious. “I’m keeping my teammate warm. I don’t want you to freeze to death out here. We’re benefitting each other, you know.”

I hesitated to give in; in all honesty, König was very warm… even his fingers. They gently rubbed the side of my arm through my sleeve, sending pins and needles through my skin as the feeling began to come back. My head fit easily against the side of his chest, and I felt good too… not even aroused, just safe. The stress from the mission and worrying about my team – it all was catching up to me, but now it was being absorbed into the warmth of König’s form.

I sighed, leaning against his body as a shiver ran up my spine. Under the smell of sweat and gunpowder, there was a hint of musk. I hated how it comforted me.

He felt my movement and chuckled. “Not so bad, huh?”

“Stuff it.” I replied curtly.

König laughed, charmed by my stubbornness, I assumed. “Here, give me your hands.” He opened his free hand and offered it to me. I reluctantly obliged, my sense of reason now being controlled by my dropping temperature. He was able to close his hand around both of mine, gently kneading my fingertips between his. The blood rushing back to my hands was painful, but the accompanied warmth was welcomed. I stared at his large hand massaging mine with half-lidded eyes; now that I felt safe, I realized how tired I had been for the past several hours.

“Thanks.” I mumbled. Even though I was feeling better, the situation was still embarrassing. I tried not to rely on people if I could help it.

“Go to sleep.” He said, ignoring my comment and letting go of my hands. “I’ll keep first watch. It’ll give you a few hours of rest.” He kept his gaze forward, aligned with the trees with an iron stare.

I huffed, tucking my hands into my sides and leaning into him further. I could sense he was just as apprehensive about our unfortunate situation, unwilling to acknowledge the tension between us – which was probably for the better. If we could hold off until evac reached us, we could pretend this had never happened. I let my eyes close, bristling against the contrast of the frigid air and König’s warm muscle, choosing to be thankful that I wasn’t out here alone – and that neither was he.

Right before sleep blanketed over my senses, gently pulling me down from awareness, I felt his arm shifting back around me to hold me closer. I smiled.

I startled awake from a dreamless sleep – pain shot through my fingers and toes when they tensed up. The freezing bite of the wind nipped at them, and they burned as my blood began to flow throughout my limbs.

I looked up at König, at poor, poor König…

He was still sitting upright, his one arm draped limply over my body. His eyes were fixed forwards on the tree line – they were narrowed against the chill of the wind, and dark bags had formed underneath them. His posture was slouched, and occasionally he would drift forwards, only to jerk himself back against the tree. He blinked slowly as he fought away the sleep.

“König?!” I pushed myself upright, staring at him with concern. “Oh my god, are you ok?!”

“Bitte,” he said, still looking at the trees ahead. “Ich muss schlafen…”

“What?”

“I need to sleep.”

“Shit, why didn’t you say something?” I asked, sitting up against the tree.

“I tried. You wouldn’t wake up.” His voice was gravelly from his lack of sleep. “You snored.”

“I- what?” I pulled my head back, looking up at him with an offended expression. “I snored?”

“Like a horse. May I please lie down?”

I scowled. That doesn’t even make any sense… I pressed myself against the tree trunk, ushering him to lean against me. “Yeah, you sleep, Colonel. I’ll keep a lookout.”

Instead of resting against my side, König completely flopped down into my lap. I let out an oof as he landed – it felt like a tree had just fallen on my legs. He let out a long, tired groan, his eyes finally closing for the night. He wrapped his arms around my thighs and hugged them close – his fingers were freezing, making me inhale sharply as he tucked them between my thighs for warmth. I didn’t even have the mental capacity to react to the gesture due to the frigidity.

“König-“ I began to protest.

“Es ist so kalt.”

“… huh?”

“It’s cold.” He mumbled.

I hovered my hands above his body, unsure of where to put them. I glanced around the dark woods, only being able to decipher one tree from the next by the light of the moon. Why am I nervous? There’s no one here but us.

That’s exactly why I was nervous.

I sighed, rubbing my hands roughly over König’s arms to warm him up. He grunted something in appreciation, squeezing my legs tighter. I bit my lip and prayed that he wouldn’t crush me. Despite his appendages being cold, his torso was relatively warm, still. As much as I hated to think about it, his current position over my body did a much better job at fighting the cold than how we had sat before.

“You gonna be alright?” I asked.

Silence. Then, a long, grating snore, akin to a chainsaw cutting through a tree trunk.

I huffed, patting his shoulder (the uninjured one). I leaned my head back against the tree trunk, fixing my gaze to the trees ahead of us. The forest was utterly silent, save for the occasional whisper of wind rustling through the leaves. Thankfully, the ground was spared from snow due to the thick coverage of the trees. My breath froze in the air, puffs of icy clouds wilting away before me. I looked back down at König: he was out like a light, face pressed into my hip and fingers clenching between my thighs.

Wish I had a camera.

Next ->

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[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

The Pilot Pt. 2

Walking into the dining room, your bunny slippers pink and prominent, you stretched and yawned out a ‘hello’. It was wonderful falling asleep in a mansion, and even more so when you spent some time in the lavish bathtub attached to your room. It almost made you not want to leave to go downstairs. Yet, you knew there was a job to be done. The children commented on your colorful robe and slippers, astounded that you showed up to breakfast in such attire. Mr. Wayne seemed amused and commented as such, playfully saying that he wished he owned the same bunny slippers you did. You offered to lend them to him, and he rejected the idea. 

Sitting at the table, you playfully scolded Alfred, “You should tell me these things. A simple dress for breakfast would have been fine.”

“Forgive me, Miss, I assumed you knew,” He said, slightly smiling, as he set a breakfast plate in front of you. 

You shook your head, smiling at the plate of food. “I’m from downtown Gotham, Alfred. You have to assume I know nothing.” You looked around the table, watching as they looked at you with surprise. “What? I got something on my face?”

“You’re sitting at the table,” Duke said shyly. 

You looked to Bruce, expecting him to say something, but he didn’t as he continued to eat his food. “Where else am I supposed to sit?”

“The kitchen,” Dick replied bluntly. 

You blew him off. “That’s so old-fashioned, and I’m too social for that. Now, what’re we doing today?” 

The kids told you they would need to leave the house since Mr. Wayne would be holding a charity dinner party that the children were not invited to. Not that you said it aloud, you were less than impressed by Bruce’s lack of involvement with the kids in things. So, you offered to take them to buy clothes and other things, and Mr. Wayne was happy enough to lend you his credit card. You marveled at the black American Express card, never thinking you’d see one in person—Let alone hold one. 

Suddenly, Alfred re-entered the dining room to tell Mr. Wayne that Lucius Fox was on the phone for him. You got up soon after, taking your plate full of food, and told the kids that you were leaving to get dressed, happy as a clam with your new position.

—

Dick was reserved, openly hostile toward you, and didn’t like the idea that now there was even more of a reason for Bruce not to be involved. You automatically made a note to force Bruce to be more active in his kids' lives and shake the eldest's rough exterior. 

So, when you arrived at the clothes shop, one your friend owned, of course, you spent more time picking out his clothes. Dick seemed like, well, a dick. He was as clever as he was spiteful and attempted to attack you at every angle. You persisted, though, while managing the other kids' wardrobes. 

Dick huffed and went to sit in one of the waiting chairs on the other end of the small boutique, seething in silence. You left him there for a bit, doting on the other children who were pretty well-behaved, albeit a bit odd. Tim had been looking under the mannequins’ skirts to see if they were anatomically correct—and, you knew instantly that would be a conversation with his father. 

As Duke and Jason were trying on ties, you finally looked over to the teenager brooding in the corner. You went over to him, holding up a red tie to his neck before taking the blue one from Damian’s small hands, who was on your hip, and doing the same. Dick was less than impressed. 

“Blue, it compliments your eyes,” You said. 

Dick huffed. “Why’re you doing this?” 

“Because I think you guys should go to that dinner tonight.” 

Before Dick could say that wouldn’t happen Cassandra stumbled over holding out a dress that she wanted to wear, but he wasn’t too dissuaded by that. He insisted that they wouldn’t be going to the dinner party.

Cassandra, even more clever than her older brother, nicely said, “I think the blue tie would suit you, Dickie. It brings out your eyes. It makes you super, super handsome.” 

He stared at her for a moment before saying, “You’re a bitch, you know that?”

Cass smiled, turning on her heel to walk off, leaving you to scold Dick as Damian slowly became more and more irritated with your arm. 

Dick only snapped at you again.

Usually, you could keep your cool, when it didn’t involve your boyfriend, but this was the last straw. “Listen here, I do not care how you feel about Bruce or anything of the sort, but I do know this; you are under my care, and you will be polite, respectful, and cut that language out when I am around.”

“Or what?”

You smiled smugly, stepping closer to Dick as you told him exactly what would happen if he did not behave.  

—

The children had come home happy, Dick noticeably more so than when he left that morning, and they all boasted about the fun they had with you. Bruce found himself excited at just how well they got on with you, and surprised when the seven of you seemed to be in cahoots. This suspicion rose when he asked you about what the kids bought, but you only brushed him off—heading upstairs in a hurry as you giggled along with the little ones. Fortunately for you, Bruce didn’t dwell much on the thought as his attentions were pulled toward making the evening perfect. 

And so had the party gone. It was starting perfectly. The guests were happy, dinner was being served on time, and, most importantly, the money was rolling in for the charities. Bruce stood in the doorway of the foyer and salon, where the guests were because Alfred had informed him that you needed something. Harvey, who had been in the middle of telling him something, followed him. 

To his surprise, you were standing on the last landing of the staircase in a classy red dress, and he would be lying to himself as well as you if he didn’t admit that you looked stunning. Proudly looking down at him, you grinned before turning to see the kids, all dressed up, behind you. 

“Who is that,” Harvey mumbled to Bruce, grinning from ear to ear. 

Bruce answered, “My nanny.” When you approached, he said in a hushed tone, “I told you the children couldn’t attend.”

You acted shocked, hand going to your cheek, and said sarcastically, “Oh, my! I must be blushing.”

“You’re a dirty player,” He commented before going to his children. Bruce admired how well they all cleaned up, doting on them like he always did, before telling them to be on their most perfect behavior. 

Harvey took this chance to introduce himself, and you seemed charmed. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. DA. Say, I’ve got some parking tickets that I think are pretty bogus, you think you fix those for…”

You trailed off when Bruce came back up to you, motioning all of you toward the salon, and whispering in your ear, “We’re discussing this later.”

You rolled your eyes, you would rather have fun than stress what your boss would say. The children were a hit amongst the party-goers, all of them cooing and awing at the children. You, too, were an intrigue to the guests since you were the mysterious latercomer who also happened to be beautiful. Bruce was surprised by just how well, with your downtown Gotham charms, you ran in the circles of the rich. You enthralled them with little tales of the children, some he was sure you made up, as well as wise outlooks on life (according to yourself, but the people listening took it up like catnip). 

Bruce also found himself having the time of his life with his kids, joking with them, and sharing the bits of business to the best of his ability. Dick was happy that he was paying more attention to them rather than the party, even going as far as to call him ‘Dad’ rather than Bruce. And, when you had left to put Damian to bed, Dickie had told him to keep you around along with something about wanting to keep his social life intact another day. 

That certainly would be something else he would need to speak to you about. 

—

“Goodbye, Harvey! I’ll call you about those parking tickets,” You called out the front door as you put the small piece of paper with his number into your bra. When you turned around there was Bruce, standing there with his hands on his hips, and you thought for sure you were going to get sacked. 

Before you could explain, Bruce said, “Don’t pull a stunt like that again.”

You were shocked, but not undeterred from your original task. “All I want to do is show those kids that you care about them.”

“I do care about them, and don’t need you to show that.”

You stepped forward, snickering. “I seriously doubt that. I mean, look how happy they were tonight. Why would you want to exclude them like that, Mr. Wayne?”

Bruce thinned his lips, thinking for a moment before relenting. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that you were right or that he found the courageous glint in your eyes fairly pretty that he gave up so easily. Reluctantly, he agreed that maybe you were right and mentioned how much the kids liked you, even going as far as to offhandedly mention what Dick said. 

“You can stay,” He said. 

You grinned, “Good. I think you’d have a hard time getting rid of me now. I think the masses in this house might revolt.”

Bruce looked at you again before smiling. No matter how he felt, Bruce couldn’t deny one thing; That you were the perfect addition to the household.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy happy holidays 🎁🎉🕎🎄❄☃️ As always, I’d love some more of thee MDZS Identity Porn (with the masks and LWJ getting jealous of all of his husband’s “husbands”) (Or JC traveling back in time?) Thanks!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

Nie Huaisang has spent most of the banquet fluttering back and forth between his brother and Meng Yao, stroking and then soothing Nie Mingjue's anger by turns.

At this point, Lan Wangji can't help but find himself wholly unsympathetic to Nie Mingjue's plight. Meng Yao has his husband's trust and care and whatever friction he'd experienced in the Nie is lacking in the Burial Mounds.

The more formal portion of the night has faded and people are intermingling and drinking and spread throughout the Jin gardens and main hall.

Wen Qing spends the evening drinking and scowling and unsubtly putting as much distance between herself and Jiang Wanyin as possible.

Lan Wangji had gotten so caught up talking with his brother and other Lan, now that it's socially permissible to do so, that it takes him a while to notice that his husband is missing.

It takes him significantly less time to notice that Nie Huaisang is missing too.

His face drops into a scowl that he's afraid he's learned from Wen Qing. Xichen blinks then his eyebrows push together in concern. "Wangji?"

He forces his face to smooth out. "Apologies, brother. It's nothing."

Xichen raises an eyebrow then leads him away from the others with some murmured excuses that they pretend to believe. “Go on.”

“It’s fine,” he insists, then under his brother’s unwavering gaze swallows down his embarrassment to say, “The Yiling Patriarch and I have a political marriage.”

“Yes,” Xichen agrees in puzzlement before his faces darkens. “If he is behaving dishonorably-”

“He had a life before me, Xichen,” he says. “His personal and political interests are simply not aligned.”

Not completely. He had flustered Wei Wuxian before. He’s never seduced anyone before, but Wei Wuxian seems as if he’d be amenable, if only he can figure out how to do it.

Xichen looks at him carefully before his mouth tips up on the side. “This is displeasing to you. That the Patriarch’s interest in you is not personal.”

He flushes but gives a single nod.

There’s clear amusement in his tone now. “So he is handsome under the mask then?”

“Xichen,” he says, helpless and a warning at once. He’d spoken in generalities all evening, unwilling to reveal any of the particulars about the clan he’s married into, even to his brother. Meng Yao and Wen Qing are correct. Their clan will have to come more fully into the public soon but that’s Wei Wuxian’s decision, not his.

Well, realistically it’s Meng Yao’s, considering it seems as if Wei Wuxian would happily keep[ their clan in the shadows forever.

“Do you promise it’s not terrible?” Xichen continues, the teasing gone and just leaving gentle concern in its place. “You weren’t just saying that so the others wouldn’t worry? The burial mounds is such a horrible place. I hate thinking of you there.”

The burial mounds are beautiful.

It holds their village and their people and lush fields and thriving crops. There’s soft greys and blue skies and every horrible part of it is underneath his husband’s control and he would never, ever let that horror touch the people he’s sworn to protect.

“It’s not what it looks like on the outside,” he says finally. “The Patriarch isn’t either. You’ll understand when you see it.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Xichen says.

[aettuddae]

business matter - chapter 113.

↳ synopsis: two of the most important kpop companies covet a partnership with a huge global brand, only to be surprised when the deal is extended to both labels. fearing potential sabotage and cynical strategies to secure exclusivity for just one of them, both CEOs resort to desperate measures. in a bid to maintain trust and prevent betrayal before the signing, they come up with a pact: forcing a fake relationship between the leaders of their star girlgroups. if one side attempted to fail the other, they threaten to expose it all to the conservative south korea.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

"i can't believe we have to come to greet the devil." complained yves as she followed the aespa staff who were leading them backstage along with some other people who had attended the concert.

"we're not going to greet her, we're going to greet yizhuo." serim corrected.

"see how i said 'the devil' and you understood who i meant?" she observed.

"you mumbled that the whole concert, every time she appeared on the screen." she frowned. "the girl next to us thought you were asthmatic."

"but then she was surprised when she realized it was me and asked me for a picture." the shorter one dramatically moved her hair back giving it a flick.

"and then she asked you if you were asthmatic." she repeated, causing sooyoung to roll her eyes.

they entered the artists' area where there was a wall lined with promotional posters of the group's tour, set up as a photo-taking area with the guests. the members who had just finished the show were standing in front of it talking and waiting for their friends, colleagues and family members, turning around excited once they arrived.

well, most of them were excited, "the devil," on her part, looked like she had seen, redundantly, the devil himself enter the room.

it had been a month since she had last seen jang serim, at the door of her apartment saying goodbye to her. she found it curious how with her busy life time always seemed to fly, but that particular month had seemed to go on forever. and now that it was over, august had brought her back, though she knew serim wasn't coming for her.

there weren't many people, which was normal since the concert in seoul had two dates so the guests were split between them. trying to deal with the shock of breathing the same air as jang, she began to move by inertia towards the crowd, ending up in the arms of her family. from her father's hold she watched as the oldest walked right past without paying any attention to her, as if she were invisible. her eyes followed the woman until she could no longer turn her head and when she wanted to turn her eyes towards her relatives she bumped into yves, who had indeed stopped next to her with the mere intention of giving her a look full of contempt, only to continue on her way once she had successfully communicated her feelings with her face.

the girl reunited with serim who was enveloped in a hug by ningning. karina realized she had no business looking at them and turned her attention back to her parents and sister.

"that was a good concert." serim broke away from the maknae, keeping her hands on her shoulders as she spoke to her. "i enjoyed it very much."

"really? thanks for coming." yizhuo squeezed her cheeks slightly. "how about you? what did you think?" she turned to sooyoung.

"it was amazing." she assured. "you have great songs, hit after hit." she began to wave her hands excitedly through the air accompanying her words. "if you are ever missing a member i would be happy to fill their spot." she proposed. "personally, i think you girls need to kick out that karina girl." she opined wryly. "there's no need two rappers, really, and she's got some dark vibes." she shook her head.

"can you shut up?" serim tapped her on the shoulder.

"we'll take you into consideration." ningning nodded with an awkward smile. "what was your favorite song?"

they engaged in a short chat between the three of them about the concert and occasional banal things, until the heaven members went over to greet winter and giselle once they were available, and ningning went on to thank her other acquaintances for attending. serim wasn't close to the other two aespa members, she barely knew them, yet she knew that out of politeness she should go over and talk to them. but there were not enough good manners in her body to force her to assume that karina was a real human in that room and that she was also part of the group that had just given the concert she had watched, she avoided her as if she were an evil spirit, as if acknowledging her presence was illegal.

the group arranged themselves in front of the wall to have their pictures taken, posing with their acquaintances who passed by one after another. when it was yves and serim's turn, they were guided to stand in the middle, but because of how the group was positioned, that way karina was right next to jang, who upon realizing this gave a long sigh and moved, walking to the left end and standing to the side, causing yves to do the same, leaving them both at either edge. the photos were taken in an awkward atmosphere, jimin didn't even bother to smile for these.

once they lowered the camera and the next group of people approached the members, serim again said goodbye to ningning, then walked away with yves ready to leave the establishment, all this under the watchful eye of karina who wasn't listening as she was asked to properly settle in with the guests.

"ask her, question." she mumbled distractedly, without even looking back, with that weird habit she had picked on those past weeks of shortening her sentences, and ran off after serim.

the members of heaven had already passed the door leading to the room, they were in a corridor behind the stage heading for the exit of the building, but stopped abruptly at the shouts naming the older one. when they both turned to see what was going on they met karina who was shaken from running, she stopped behind them trying to catch her breath.

serim rolled her eyes, yves jumped on top of the dancer ready to rip her hair out.

"hold still." her bandmate pushed her back again.

"no one breaks my semmie unnie's heart and gets away with it." she took another leap with intentions of reaching karina, but once again her leader blocked her with her arm, causing her to end up climbing over her shoulder and part of her back, swiping at the air above serim to see if she could grab something.

"behave!" she exclaimed, setting her down. "why do you always behave like animals wherever we go?" she folded her arms in annoyance.

"because we learned from you!" she finished off.

"touché." she nodded, changing her attitude. "what do you want?" she turned her gaze on karina.

"i have something to ask you." she explained, playing with her fingers nervously.

"you can't." yves interrupted.

"go away." her leader scolded her, pointing away indicating for her to walk away.

"but semmie-"

"i'll be fine, get out." she reiterated.

"alright." she took a few steps away, but turned on these quickly addressing karina. "but i hope you're aware i know where you live." she threatened her, then resumed the way she was going before, but turned back to the girl. "and if you do one of yours i'll have to involve yujin." she warned intimidatingly. "and yujin is demented." she finished, now really leaving the leaders alone.

"are there any members of your group who don't have behavioral problems?" questioned karina in confusion.

"look who's talking." she raised her arms in the air in disbelief then looked at a fake audience as if asking them if they could believe what she had just said. "what do you want, karina?" she put her hands on either side of her waist impatiently.

"karina? no more jimin?" she spoke softly, she felt embarrassed.

"yves has been calling you the devil all night, would you rather i call you like that too?"

"yes, i heard her." she shifted her body weight from one foot to the other restlessly. "i actually think she wanted me to listen to her." she guessed. "but please don't call me that." she asked shyly.

"what were you going to ask me?" the vocalist resumed.

"well..." she contemplated for a second what she was going to say. "did you like my solo?" she inquired, an innocent smile forming on her face.

"is that it?" her face lost emotion, skeptical.

"hey, i wrote that song for you." she confessed cheerfully, trying to dispel the tension in the air.

"it's a song about lesbian sex." she recalled in frustration.

"you didn't like it?" the sad aura enveloped her once again. "do you think it's a bad song?" she clasped her hands together again, rubbing them against each other wanting to calm the anxiety.

"no, it's a good song, don't worry." she assured, dropping her head wearily from the situation she was in. "if that was all, i'm leaving." she turned around.

"namu!" yu stopped her.

"don't call me that." she stated facing her again.

"serim, sorry." she amended. "that's not what i wanted to ask you." reported, remaining silent, serim tossing her a gesture with her head prompting her to continue. "i wanted to ask you..." she swallowed. "i broke franky."

"that's not a question."

"hiro broke franky." she reformed.

"what did i do to that dog to make him hate me so much?" she grimaced in dismay.

"i don't know, but he doesn't like you." she admitted. "i gathered up the soil and the plant, put it back in the pot." she commented. "but i wanted to ask you how can i know..." she tried to choose her words well. "if it's still alive."

"why didn't you google it?" she said with obviousness.

"i guess you're more reliable than the internet." karina shrugged.

"okay." serim agreed. "you got to check that the leaves are firm and green, if they are turning brown or are soft and wrinkled it's either not getting water properly or the roots are rotten, which would mean you repotted it wrong." she advised earnestly. "in this case, you're going to have to move it to a new pot." she approached her so she could explain more comfortably. "if you end up having to do so, you will completely remove the old soil from the roots, if any of these are damaged, you will have to cut them, carefully!" she suddenly exclaimed, she takes this hobby seriously. "carefully, jimin." insisted.

"you called me jimin." the addressed one pointed proudly, cutting her off.

"shut up." the oldest ordered without giving her comment any importance. "if the roots are too wet you should leave it in the open air to dry out, okay? at least for two days." she continued. "then you're going to plant it again in new soil." she helped her. "try to get soil specifically for succulents, you can go to a nursery garden and ask for it." finished.

"so, the leaves... the roots... i have to be careful when cutting them..." she began to list using her fingers. "basically if it's dying i should..."

"start all over again, yes." she completed the sentence for her.

"i understand." she confirmed. "thank you, serim." she expressed honestly.

"no problem." the girl dismissed. "thanks for the pet, by the way." she added with a faint smile. "goodbye." having finished the conversation she assumed she could leave.

"wait!" the youngest one followed her as the other intended to catch up with yves to leave the place, standing in front of her as she stopped to hear her.

"what now?" she cocked her head helplessly.

karina took a big breath of air, she knew she was already draining serim's patience who seemed to just keep waiting there hoping she had some doubt serious enough to not let her anger explode on the day of her concert. she held out her hand, her eyes, with clear insecurity in them, following every little movement there was in the woman's facial features. she placed her open palm in front of serim, expectant.

"hello." she blurted out simply in a low, hesitant tone.

"what are you doing, karina?" serim analyzed her judgingly.

"take it." she suggested.

serim wrapped her hand with her own in a squeeze, holding them between their bodies, to see what the younger girl had on her mind.

"hello." she said again. "my name is yu jimin." she introduced herself. "i saw you inside and i think you're really cute." she smiled self-consciously.

"what are you trying to do right now?" serim let go of the grip they had to rub her face despondently.

"if it's dying, i have to start over to save it." she recapped.

serim understood what was going on, what karina's intentions were and where all this interaction they were having was coming from. the reality was that yes, serim loved her desperately, but she was worn out, she couldn't keep orbiting around jimin, she had realized the night she didn't reciprocate her feelings. what the girl's reasoning was didn't matter because it didn't erase all the wrong she had done before. she hadn't tried for them, so what was the use of starting now.

karina's hand was still in the air hoping for her, so she held it out again. "hello." she fixed her gaze on those pupils. "i am jang serim." she shared. "and please don't bother me anymore." she sentenced.

serim left, now without anyone stopping her as jimin was left stupefied on the spot, alone with her hand outstretched with no one to take it. she hadn't planned that, she hadn't previously thought about the possible consequences of her actions, she just did it, but didn't expect the woman to reject her like that. though she understood, of course, she understood, and she knew she deserved it.

serim walked down the hallway and turned a corner where yves was waiting for her, disappearing from the younger woman's range of vision.

"how did it go?" her companion asked when she saw her coming.

serim threw herself against a wall, her forehead sticking to it and then began to slide down on it as if she was melting. "i love her." he communicated.

"what?" yves looked at her quizzically. "what happened?"

"she's the stupidest woman alive," she knelt on the floor, arm open, torso and face still pressed against the wall, her gaze lost in the distance dramatically. "and i love her." she affirmed.

[lure-of-writing]

Little Sister: I Promise

Summary: After the news of a lifetime is revealed you are left to deal with the consequences

Word count: 3.7k

The pain in your head was pulsing as if it had a life of its own. The thumping could rival the beat of war drums before a fierce battle. Between the raging pain and apparent dehydration, due to excessive amounts of crying, you had failed to notice the males lingering in your room. 

Sleep did not easily grace you with her presence during your many failed attempts at forgetting the very unforgettable night that was generously blessed upon you from the gods themselves apparently. 

The whoosh of the door first caught the attention of your still sleeping mind, followed by the loud bang of your door handle against the wall. The force of which the door was thrown open sends a waft of air barreling towards you. Jolting awake you first recognize your room in the river house. How you got there was still a little foggy but there were more pressing matters at hand apparently. Such as your body pressed against Azriels. Looking up you see him leaning against the headboard of your bed staring at who you could only assume was your brother. Time came to a complete stop as you took in your mate before you. There he was laid out on your bed, wings splayed out in a sign of comfort, a gentle hand against your back and the other resting on his bare chest after leaving your hair upon your arising. His legs encased you in a warm blanket of content and happiness. 

Less than sixty seconds had passed since the door of your room was unexpectedly blown open and you taking in all that Azriel’s appearance had to offer. Your guess of who interrupted your much needed sleep was proven to be correct. “I told you to stay away from her. I’m going to kill you.” you could feel the venom dripping off of his words. With a heavy sigh you glance up to Azriels face and gasp at what you see. Now that you're really looking and have since rubbed the sleep-covered fog out of your eyes, do you realize the condition he is in. His body was littered with dark purple, black and blue bruises, some bigger than the palm of your hand. You felt your heart constrict at the sight of your mate. With an uneasy stomach you dare to look at his face and you swore your heart stopped beating for a few seconds. One of his eyes was surrounded by splotches of red purple and blue from broken skin and veins. His cheek and jaw were also covered in bruises that matched the ones on his abdomen. 

You had so much to say but were so tongue tied. How in the world were you going to fix this extremely unfortunate situation? Mother knows you are going to need all of the help that both she and the gods can spare you. 

“Rhys don’t. You may be mad at him but, Azriel is my mate.” you found the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. It wasn’t like there were any other words you had formed to say instead. Gently you turn around in between Az’s legs, careful not to knock into him in fear of causing him more unnecessary pain. With your back facing Azriels chest do you finally take in your brother. He was in better shape then your mate but not by much. If you knew anything it was that Azriel was holding back on your brother out of respect for him. You knew Azriel was a far better fighter than your brother. 

“Y/n I love you but move.” Rhysand barely spared you a look before focusing on your mate once again. “No.” This caught your brother's attention “No?” he asked “No” a gentle shake of your head accompanies your firm tone. “I will not ask you again, move.” In all of your life you couldn’t think of a time Rhysand used his power as high lord against you. Never had he allowed the power to rattle your bones, commanding them to bow to him and his superiority. There was always a first for anything. Even with the power radiating off of your brother crashing into you like the ocean crashes into a cliff side you do not waver under the pressure he applies. You would be the clift. Unmoving,unyielding, unforgiving. Straightening your back you raise your head leveling a look at your brother. He may be a high lord but he often forgets your power rivals his own and oftentimes is much more powerful than his. 

Slowly you released the rein you had on your powers allowing them to poke and prod at the feeling of your brother's dark energy engulfing the room. After mere milliseconds they started pushing back against him and the invisible force he possessed. “I am not some low level coward who you can push around as you see fit. I am your sister, a blood wielder and you will respect me as such.”  If Rhysands voice was the commanding tone of a high lord then you would match it. Far too often have you let your brother forget the powers you possess. Today you would remind him that not only could you fight your own battles but in fact you never needed him to fight them for you in the first place. 

You watched as your brother tried to not grimace underneath the push back from your own power and the threat of just what it was exactly that you were capable of. “You may be my brother but he is my mate and as much as you hate him right now this does not concern you. As much as that may be a shocker to you.” 

“You are my baby sister and he hurt you which means this does concern me, actually” Swiftly you move to the edge of the bed letting your feet touch the pulse carpet laid underneath your bed and march to your brother. Only once face to face with him did you come to a stop. “Let me remind you Rhysand that I never once gave my opinion or thoughts on your relationship even while Feyre actively despised you and repeatedly reminded you how much Tamlin was better than you. All I ever did was offer my unwavering love and support even while she broke your heart time and time again. So you should take note and leave me, my relationship and my mate alone!” Never had you yelled at Rhys. Often you yelled for him, about him, but never at him. This left everyone in a state of shock. “If that is how you feel then I suggest you find somewhere else to stay that isn’t one of my houses and leave me out of your life. I do not want to hear you come crying to me when he inevitably breaks your heart.” No longer was this the voice of a high lord but the voice of somebody who didn’t have a single ounce of care to give. Darting back and forth between his eyes you saw nothing but cold indifference. This was the male you saw at Hewn city. Never did you think the look would be directed at you. “I want you gone.” His voice left no room for argument. “Now.” 

Stepping back you scoff at who the male standing before you has become. Without another look you track back to Azriel’s side. Gently you grab his hand giving it a small squeeze before winnowing the two of you away. 

The smell of wind and salt and ocean was the first thing to hit your senses. The strong midday sun was the next. Finally after a few slow blinks you are able to recognize your apartment that resided in the summer court.  “I’m sorry you had to witness that.” you whisper quietly while releasing his hand. “Don’t apologize, please. This is all my fault.” With a tight lipped smile you look up to see Azriel is already looking at you. Once again your eyes dart over his face causing a frown to pull at your lips. Wrapping your hand around his wrist you tug gently, careful to keep your grip loose in fear of hurting him more, “Let's get you cleaned up. You look like you got into a fight with a depressed rainbow.” The sound of your mates laugh rings out against the wall of the hallway and into the bathroom. Softly you pat the edge of the tub in a silent order for him to take place there, which he does. 

While rummaging around the drawers and cabinets you feel the weight of Azriel’s stare against your back causing a shiver to run down your spine. You were used to being under the watchful eyes of Az but this time it was different. This time it was as his mate. “You're staring.” you mumble while struggling to read the weathered label on the bottle you possessed. “I know.” The slightly tired tone of his voice causes goosebumps to rise along your arms. That was definitely something you could get used to. Wordlessly you turn around and walk two steps to be in front of him again and summon a stool to sit on. Sighing once again as you take in the damage your brother inflicted upon your mate. Seeing him like this made you want to cry. Blood, bruises and all things that came with knowing warriors rarely phased you, even seeing your brother beaten up was barely cause for concern unless it was dire. But there had always been something about seeing Azriels body covered in anything other than his tattoos made you feel deeply emotional. Now you guessed you knew why. 

A warm hand gently cupped your cheek while wiping away the tears you hadn’t noticed escape your eyes. “Hey. I’m ok. I’ve been dealt much worse.” The gentle worried sound of his voice causes another tear to slip past your lashes. “How did you know I was worried about you?” You watch as he wipes the other rouge tear while quietly laughing. “Well for as long as I have known you, you have always cried when I get hurt, even if it's something like a paper cut.” he chuckles again. “So there is that but I can feel how worried you are through the bond.” subconsciously you feel your eyebrows raise “Right the bond.” you mutter. Pulling the cork off of one of the many vials you shrug “I’ll try to be as gentle as I can be.” you state before motioning for him to move his arms so you can lather the salve upon most if not all of his abdomen. 

Nothing about this was new to you, often times after missions or just a little too rough of a training session with Cassian, Azriel would seek you out in hope you would help aid him back to health and each time without any complaint, you did. “I guess we are going to have to talk about the obvious huh?” you tried to make it sound like it was no big deal, just like any other conversation you would have with the shadowsinger. “Only when you are ready.” Silence once again followed in the room while you held Az’s jaw in your hand, keenly aware of the pressure you apply “This whole being mates thing is weird isn’t it?” you ask while applying more of the salve on the bruise that covered his whole cheek that connected to his eye. “Why would it be weird?” Shrugging you don’t answer, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand. After a few beats of silence do you answer. “I have always just been Rhysands little sister you had to deal with. You get him, you get me kind of deal. And now we're mates and everything is super awkward and my brother probably is going to try and kill you the next time you step into his sight.”  Azriel nods while you speak but never interrupts. “You have never just been his little sister to me. You have always been your own person, capable of your own choices, capable of living your own life how you see fit. You have always been you. And I would pick you over him any day of the week-” “You're just saying that because we're mates”  You cut him off. With a shake of his head he continues. “While that may be true, the mates part that is. I would always choose you no matter what. Because you are everything I could ever need wrapped into one person. And yes your brother may want to kill me right now, but I am sure that will fade…..eventually. If not then I can handle another round with him.”

“You were holding back on him weren’t you?” Azriel shakes his head back and forth before finally giving up the answer “Yeah I was holding back” his sheepish tone has a laugh falling from your lips. “That's kinda what I figured.” Comfortable silence surrounds the room while the two of you observe each other. Finally Az breaks the silence. “You're right, you know? About how it was wrong of me to hide this from you. I should have said something as soon as I knew. And I will never try to give you  an excuse as to why I did what I did but I will give you a reason. After  we came home after the war and you were standing there I felt the bond in that moment. But all I could think about is what we just came back from and how I never wanted you to go through the fear and pain and worry that Feyre had experienced with Rhys. You of all people know what I do. Who I’ve hurt and those who are waiting to get their revenge. And the thought of you being subjected to that scared me in ways I’ve never felt before. I would do anything to keep you safe, even if that meant keeping you away from me. I promise that I was going to tell you but I was scared of the danger it would put you in or if you would even want to accept the bond and things of that nature.” You didn’t need the bond to tell that Azriel was being sincere, you could see it in his eyes, in the way he was looking at you. The silent pleading for you to believe him. “And I swear I did not plan on your cousin being the person to tell you.” You had stopped picking up the mess you made of vials and tins full of salves and tonics. “I can’t lie and say that the fact you hid this from me doesn’t hurt but I understand where you are coming from, well at least as best as I can. As for Morrigian being the person to tell me…yeah I would agree but hey at least we can say it was more unique than anyone else?” The rise and fall of Azriels chest as he laughed at your confused tone brought you a sense of peace that you didn’t even know you needed. “But,um, you know that I would never reject you right? I would never do that to you or our bond. I want this. As long as you want this.” you taper off at the end suddenly overcome with shyness. 

The smile that spread across the male's face was slow moving at first but within seconds it was in full bloom. “Baby you can’t be serious. You know that I have been waiting for this my whole life and now that I know it's going to be with you makes me want this that much more. I want this, I want you more than I want anything else.” At his confession you felt heat run up your neck and make your cheeks your home. Looking down at the rings on your fingers you begin to fidget with them nervously. At the nervous habit Azriel pulled the stool you were perched on closer to him. Gently he cups both of your cheeks between his hands forcing you to look at him. “I know that you're nervous sweetheart. This is a big change for the both of us, but you know me. I am the same Az that you have always known. You just get to know me in a different way now.” The blush that rested upon your cheeks deepened at the implication of knowing him in a much different way. Once again this caused a laugh to tumble out of your mates lips. Nothing went unnoticed by him. “Can I kiss you?” The thought had been bouncing around in your head for what felt like forever and how that you had asked you swore your heart could give out from how fast it was beating. “It’s cute that you asked. Just for future reference you never need to ask.” You couldn’t get a response out before he pulled your face closer to him and finally let your lips touch his.

This was not the first time you have kissed Azriel but this was unlike anything you have ever experienced. Suddenly it felt like your entire being was on fire but in the best way possible. All the racing thoughts disappeared and all you could think about was the feeling of his lips on yours. You would give up oxygen in return for being able to kiss him without ever needing to pull away for air. Everything in life up until this point was all to learn of your bond with him and you would do it over a thousand times if necessary. “Wow” the word barely made it past your lips before they were smashed by the lips of the spymaster. Finally after the both of you were thoroughly out of breath did you finally pull away. A giggle ruptures from within  you causing Azriel to simply raise an eyebrow in question. “I’ve never seen you look like this.” That was aside from the bruising painting his face, you had also never seen him like that. Pushing the stool away from him you stand and grab his hand pulling him to see himself in the mirror. There you watched as he took in the flush cheeks and swollen lips with dazed eyes. After a few seconds he started to take in your appearance. At first you didn’t even think about how you looked but with those piercing eyes directed at you, you bowed your head in an attempt to hide just how much of an effect kissing Azriel had on you. 

Apparently your mate decided to spare you more embarrassment. After taking in a long look around your apartment and you are sure, he was also given a report on the rest of the unfamiliar place from his shadows. Did he finally speak. “Since when did you get an apartment in the summer court? Also how did none of us find out?” smirking you gesture for him to follow you back to the living room of your home away from home. “You my spymaster are not the only one capable of keeping secrets, as for when? It's almost been two years.”  Stopping before two french doors you pull them open walking out onto the balcony revealing the view of the ocean from your little slice of peace along the shore. “I always wondered where it was you ran off to and now I know.” The sound of your laugh is overshadowed by the sound of the waves crashing against the beach below you. Walking toward your mate you wrap your arms around his waist careful not to cause any more pain and rest your head against his chest right over his heart. The feeling of his arms wrapping around you brought so much peace to your soul. 

It was later in the evening when you spoke up for the first time in almost an hour. You were laying in bed with Azriel resting on top of you. His head on your stomach and your hands in his hair. “Azzie?” The sound of his name pulled him from the realm of sleep. “Yes, my love?” His response is just as quiet as your question was. “Do you think Rhys hates me now?” looking up at the ceiling you pause getting lost in the throws of your argument. “He said to leave him out of my life. He has never said something like that to me before. And the worst part is I think he actually meant it. Do you think I made the right choice by standing up to him?” This isn’t your first time fighting with your brother but never in four hundred years has he said something so harsh to you before. And to go as far as to say he didn’t want you in his life was heartbreaking. You fear this may be the point of no return. Sudden movement on your stomach causes you to look down. The sight you are met with is beautiful. Azriel placed his hand over your abdomen resting his chin upon his hand. Stirking hazel eyes were already looking at you when you pulled your focus from the ceiling to the male in front of you. “I think he needs some time to process everything. I also think he said some things he doesn’t mean. You are the light of his life. Give him some time eventually he will come around.” The tear that fell from your eye was sudden and before you could wipe it away a shadow did the act for you. “I don’t know Az. I don’t think I mean much to him anymore let alone light up his life. What am I going to do?” The more tears that fell were met with an equally compassionate shadow fiercely whipping away stray tears. “I’m not too sure I agree with that but no matter what we will face this together. I promise.” Lifting his head he moves his arm closer to you and offers his pinky for you to wrap your pinky around. Azriel had never broken a pinky promise he made with you.

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[fanaticsnail]

The Spear and the Sword

Masterlist Here.

Word Count: 3,807

This is the final fic for the year, a wonderful prompt given by an anon months ago. Thank you to @since-im-already-here for beta reading and correcting grammar. If there's any issue, know my sister is to blame, folks.

@gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @vespidphoenix happy new year!

Warning: blood, gore, flirtatious dialogue, mutual pining, playfulness in battle, enemies to lovers, warlord reader, fluff, Mihawk x female!reader.

I said I'd get it done before the new year. Happy New Years Eve to my fellow Aussies!

This was too much. This was far too much. This was far too much for lord Dracule Mihawk to fend off alone. His great sword Yoru was spattered with the blood of several foes, each impact meeting his blade creating more lethargy in the broody sword master of the seas. His title of “worlds greatest” was hanging in the balance as more enemies approached him with more fervour than ever before.

“Garp,” Mihawk growled into his den-den-mushi earpiece, “you said there would be a few hundred. This is in the upwards of a couple thousand. What is going on back there?” Static and groans of battle were met within the earpiece in return, huffs of gruff breath and thumps of fists coinciding within the ferocious melody.

“It was all I was aware of, Mihawk,” Garp growled once the battle was silenced in the background of the call, “my marines are barely holding up on this end. The other warlords are occupied, I’ve got none to spare you.” Mihawk almost met with a single shot from a bullet, weaving away with a dance-like twirl to dodge the metallic, circular object. He swiped his lengthy blade within the air and kicked back the individual who shot at him, his torso falling to impale themselves against a fence post as a result of the blow.

The town he was tasked to protect, a marine base home to several prominent family members within the world government; alongside the sick, weak, young, and elderly, were currently engaged in a war-like battle with pillagers and pirates from the four corners of the north, east, south and west blues. This army was accumulated under a foreign flag, their jolly roger unfamiliar to both marines and warlords alike. Mihawk had been fighting at the front line alone, his ship destroyed under the destruction of war: his traveling vintages of fine wines claimed by the seas.

As another made his approach, Mihawk huffed out an exhausted and frustrated breath while continuing to swipe to relinquish the foes and meet them with the sharpened edge of his blade.

“Mihawk,” Garp interrupted his flow of battle with his voice cutting through the air within his snail earpiece, “we might have someone available. You’ve worked with her before, a warlord like you. She’s on her way.”

“Boa?” Mihawk asked while placing his fingertip to the shell of the earpiece, “I thought you said she’s on the other side of the north blue right now.” Garp growled at one of his underlings, directing them in some nonsensical way that Mihawk couldn’t quite register.

“No, not Boa,” Garp replied, panting into the earpiece with exhaustion overcoming himself. More clangs, clashes and thumps were heard within the earpiece, Mihawk turning to continue forcing the pillagers back to the shore of the beach.

“No,” Mihawk uttered firmly into the earpiece, “anyone but her. Give me cadets, give me your least valuable soldiers, give me prisoners. Literally anyone else-.”

“I don’t have anyone else!” Garp roared into the earpiece, prompting Mihawk to flinch away from it while furrowing his brows in anger. Both men managed to calm themselves down, Mihawk taking a moment to silence his rage by taking a few deep breaths.

“Put your former grievances and your ego aside, warlord,” Garp ordered within the earpiece, “she’s what we have, and she’s perfect. World’s greatest weapons-master, in fact.”

“I’m aware of that,” Mihawk murmured through his clenched teeth, his teeth grinding as he bit back his lackluster words, “she’s violent, impulsive, ferocious, messy. She’s feral and she’s the bane of my existence.”

“Have you even spoken to her?” Garp questioned, a small humorless laugh falling through his widened grimace, “she’s exactly what we need, Mihawk. You do this, and I’ll let you off the tether to tend your farms, sharpen your sword – or even sheathe it for an entire year.” Mihawk narrowed his eyes, huffing out a frustrated breath and brandishing his sword out to the side in preparation for another recuperated attack from the approaching armada.

“How soon will she be here?” Mihawk asked, his beard protruding while snarling with his upper lip drawing back.

“She’s already on the other side of the war line,” Garp confirmed with him, a final slam of iron-barred doors echoing within the background of the ship, “I’ll patch her through now.”

-

You tilted your head down, looking up at the coastline full of ships approaching the marine-base through your lengthy eyelashes. You drew back your playful smirk, allowing the elevation of your heartbeat to begin to work itself to frenzy within your ribcage. You were known far and wide for your battle-ready ferocity; allowing your rage to take over your emotions within the thralls of battle to relinquish many a foe.

Combat mastery began at a young age; bare knuckle boxing in gladiator cage-matches being one of the first types of combat you overtook the championship of in your youth. After boxing and grappling, you moved on to wielding large hammers and battle axes, enjoying the weight within your fists as you crushed skulls and decapitated limbs. After heftier weapons, you opted to train under the mentorship of a superior fighter. They taught you to throw the spear and reclaim it swiftly, giving you pointers to always meet your target with the piercing tip of the bladed end.

You were nothing, coming from nothing. No family to speak of, you traveled the continents, claiming title after title of world's greatest weapon-master with ease. The only one you were yet to best was the current reigning lord of Kuraigana, his title of World’s Greatest Swordsman continuing to badge itself against his bare chest with pride. Arrogant prick was the first thought that sprung to mind regarding the nature of his aura. You had seen posters, articles and even catalogs regarding his training history and weapons mastery.

As your status was elevated to warlord, the world government approached you for protection against several foes and to take on contracts they would rather not involve themselves with, you accepted under two conditions: they allow you to handle matters in your own way, being the first. Your own way, being: “I will get this done, regardless of the mess, and you will clean it up after I’m done with it.”

The other condition is you were to be given absolutely all the information available to you regarding the contracts: no children, no women: no innocents. Those were your rules. You didn’t care how feral the children were, nor how arrogant and uptight the women were. If they were innocent, you refused to do harm to them, or unleash your wrath onto the world government themselves. There were absolutely no qualms to your requests, printed in bold atop your profile.  

Vice-Admiral Garp had no quarry with your methods, usually placing a den-den-mushi somewhere about within the battlefield to watch your barbaric tirades on the field in awe at your ferocity. 

That was how Mihawk knew of your battle prowess, your pictures almost always covered in some form of dirt, mud and blood within the heat of battle. He absolutely despised mess, but was always held captive to your almost beckoning and sultry gaze as you removed your spearhead from another foe. And you knew him in a similar likeness, his images always clean-cut with not a splash of battle worn on him. Given the call you just received from Garp, you were quivering in anticipation to remedy such a plight from him.

“I’m going to patch you through now, Weaponsmaster,” Garp’s lilted brogue uttered into the den-den-mushi within your ear. His voice almost was quivering itself in anticipation of witnessing the carnage you were about to unleash against the armada as far as the naked eye could see.

“Thank you, Vice-Admiral,” you sang in an almost sultry tone within the earpiece, “I know you’ll be watching closely.”

“Aye, I will be lass,” Garp’s voice laughed into the earpiece. You were very well aware of how fond the older gentleman was of watching you work, not minding in the slightest at the attention and preference you got from him.

“Mihawk, you there?” Garp’s voice echoed within the earpiece, prompting you to wince away from his growl slightly.

“I am, Vice-Admiral.” A moment of pause occurred before Mihawk spoke again, “Weapons-master.”

“Sword-master,” you smirked, your voice almost purring at him, “a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

“That I’m sure of,” Mihawk replied in a bored tone. You were slightly taken aback by his standoffish mannerism, your brows furrowing low. He absolutely knew who you were, holding a title as warlord and world’s greatest weapons-master. You rotated your shoulders and clicked your neck to rid yourself of annoyance and prepare yourself for battle.

“Conceited Cunt,” you spat, unaware that the contact was still drawn between the three of you – only becoming aware once Mihawk’s voice relayed back to you, “Feral Filiform.”

“Easy now,” Garp’s voice called over the linked den-den-mushi, “Complete this feat first, then get to your flirting.”

“If you think that’s what flirting looks like,” Mihawk winced into the shell, touching his index finger to the outer shell of the den-den-mushi, “I pity your wife.” You chuckled at his crude comment, almost tangibly feeling the rage pouring off Garp in waves through the den-den-mushi attached to your inner ear.

“Save your insults for the enemy, pirate,” Garp spat into the earpiece. You heard Mihawk hum, prompting you to roll your eyes at the interaction. The ships over the shore began to fall closer to your small vessel - the rise of the tide ushering you into the new thralls of battle. You noticed there were a few hundred ships, all carrying an amassment of crew of various sizes. You once again rolled your shoulders back and pursed your lips. 

Placing your fingertip to secure the shell deeper within your ear, you smirked out a final taunt to the warlord.

“This is what was bothering you? Couldn't you handle the troop all by yourself, swordsman?” You cooed into the voice responder. Silence and static was met within the drum of your ear, a stifled growl also accompanying it. You decided to get in a final jab to taunt him, “I could dispatch the armada by myself. Why don’t you take a break, old man? Sit your pretty little ass down on the beach and sit back to watch the show.”

“I’d like to see you try, barbarian,” Mihawk growled in return. Your ship brushed against the hull of the first ship to the rear of the fleet; your presence immediately making itself known as you housed yourself effortlessly over the railing. You laughed into the earpiece, feeling the rapidity of your heartbeat rising in elevation to frenzy yourself before first contact is made with your many foes.

Your spear was flung through your hands to indent itself against the top mast at the middle of the vessel, skewering several members of the mighty crew onto its pole as meat would dangle from a kebab. You grappled, kicked, flung yourself at the crew; using your hands and their own weapons against them to relinquish them from their life. Once they all fell victim to your battle mastery, you again reached your hand up to the shell-responder.

“I bet my left breastplate I will get to the middle before you, Swordsman,” you taunted him, your legs carrying themselves with haste towards the railing of the ship. You jumped high, the air lifting you and drawing your body down against the next vessel. 

“I bet my waist-belt you absolutely won’t, Wild-Woman,” the swordsman snarled into the earpiece, Yoru circling around and pushing the troops back with one fell swipe. Mihawk’s teeth drew themselves back, enraged at his taunt being met with a small melodic giggle. 

“Oh, this is how we’re playing, is it?” You whispered breathily into the earpiece, your spear clutched within the fist of your dominant hand as you stabbed at the next approaching foe. You giggled again, feeling at home on the battlefield. The life drained from the eyes of the enemy under the tip of your spear; another shipful of foes falling on their knees at your expert ministrations.

“Fine,” you smiled into the earpiece, singsong and humor dripping from your tongue, “I’ll see your belt and raise you my entire breastplate.” Mihawk growled in response. You held your ground, immediately flinging yourself at the next ship. 

Rather than to take on several members of this crew, you shrugged your shoulders and thrust your spear downwards - sinking the vessel below your feet. You sprinted against the ship’s deck as it began to be claimed by the sea water below, ushering you on to the next ship. You threw your spear to the next vessel, embedding the tip into a lit cannon and witnessed the beautiful implosion it made; launching the spear back into your awaiting palm as you jumped onto the next one. The blast sunk the ship it was fired from, the cannonball flinging itself to sink the one laying perpendicular to the vessel. 

Mihawk was not paying attention to your battle mastery, assuming you were still undertaking the first vessel you had docked your ship against and fighting like some untrained and feral marine. He snickered at the thought, himself already aboard his second vessel after pushing back the troop from their approach of the shore. 

“I’m looking forward to claiming your breastplate,” Mihawk’s voice audibly smirked into the earpiece, “to add to the winning pool, I’ll claim that spear too.” A shiver of anticipation shuddered against his spine at the audible growl he managed to pull from your parted lips. Holding your spear more firmly within your hand, you growled back at him. 

“There are several things I doubt you’d be able to do correctly, swordsman. Wielding my spear is the first that springs to mind,” you smirked, watching the bubbling of water rise as another ship sank against your skill, “pleasing a woman is the other.”

In order to remain silent while listening to your quips back and forward to each other, Vice-Admiral Garp clapped his wide palm over his lips to stifle an outrageous and unbridled laugh rising in his chest. Bogard smirked, hearing the commotion from the speaker molded into the desktop den-den-mushi, placing his hat over his eyes to hide his joy. 

“I’ll gladly show you I can on both counts, woman.”

“You can certainly try, warlord”

“I will absolutely succeed, fellow warlord.”

 Garp and Bogard were held on the edge of their seats, watching through binoculars the battle mastery balanced between you both while your quippy dialogue read as commentary to your mighty feats. 

“Fine,” you again smirked into your earpiece, clothes and armor littered with the spilt blood of your enemies while your hair stuck to your face under the salty sea-spray, “If I am to give up my weapon to the cause, I will have something of equal value offered in return.”

“Yoru is not something I would ever part with for something as childish as a-,” Mihawk began, his words halting as you offered your trade.

“-If I win this little coo, you pretentious prick, your pride is coming with me,” you called into the shell attached to your ear. Feeling all the pent up rage and frustration of the respect of your skill not being met in return for your affection, you offered the best solution you could find. 

“If I get to these exact coordinates, all foes falling before me,” you relayed the coordinates, Garp, Bogard and Mihawk hanging on your every utterance, “you will report back to Vice-Admiral Garp donning nothing but your stupid cross-blade, your stupid Yoru and your feathered hat.” The battle paused, the enemies halting their approach with their brows furrowing in almost disgust and awe. You held up a halting hand at them, awaiting a vocal response from Mihawk to your taunt. 

Mihawk’s brows themselves were lowered, his eyes narrowed as he sought you out in the field. He couldn’t find you, couldn’t see a trail of destruction in your wake. He continued to search for you within the crowd, but was still unable. 

“In that complete and utter unlikelihood,” Mihawk began, still craning his neck to seek out your form, “I accept the terms. Prepare to have your spear, your breastplate and my own satisfaction in claiming some semblance of femininity from you while I wield your body effortlessly.”

“And you prepare yourself to be absolutely humbled in response, your pride and ego removed because-,” you smirked, your eyes finally meeting with the yellow hue of the feathered warlord only a few hundred feet away from you, “-I’m nearly there.”

Mihawk’s eyes widened as he witnessed you jump to the next vessel, twirling within the air to throw a small axe into the base of the ship and sinking it by placing a wide hole within its bow. You were, indeed, very close to the coordinates. His widened gaze looked harder, noticing the absence of over half of the wide armada sinking to the bottom of the sea. How had he not noticed it before? Why, in all his stupidity, would he ever agree to this without looking properly first? Clearly, he had underestimated you. Or overestimated his ability to easily outmatch you. 

The elements had changed along with the tide. Your battle-ready ferocity was overcast by an aura of calm playfulness; you giggling into the earpiece as you continued falling foe after foe beneath your spear, fist and axes. In turn, Mihawk was the one to begin to shower himself desperately in the blood of his enemies; curling up his lip at the mess alongside his stupidity at undertaking such a bet. 

“C’mon Hawk, keep up. You’re nearly there. Flap your wings harder,” you’d giggle into the earpiece, uncaring whether blood, sinew or bone showered your body in the baptism of battle. 

“Stop your stupid teeth from gnashing, Hyena. Your taunts mean very little to me,” Mihawk panted, his feet carrying him with more haste as he continued to unblinkingly search for you. 

You giggled again in response, your feet almost carrying themselves closer to the finish line. Your enemies within the armada were fleeing from the utter horror you created, your wolfy grin and playful eyes not matching the energy of the gore befalling your form. Many simply dove overboard, ran to the next ship away from you in their cowardly retreat - only to be met with another approaching warlord with his mighty sword clutched in his dominant hand. 

As Mihawk panted for breath, his adrenaline propelling him to the finish line leaving a trail of destruction in his wake; his steps quivered in his tracks as his gaze met with yours.

You were sitting on a barrel, twirling the twine around your spearhead nonchalantly with a litter of bodies laying at your feet. Your left brow was arched upwards, the knowing smirk plastered against your plush lips as you hummed a tune of victory through your nose. 

“Looks like I’ll get to see what your other sword looks like,” you cooed in a melodic tune, not meeting his gaze and remaining aloof, “you can leave your boots at my feet. I think I might wear your coat home with me, Swordsman.”

“You are disgusting,” Mihawk spat at you, his breath finally catching up with him. He was now left breathless at witnessing your ferocity, the wild shape of your battle-worn eyes holding him hostage with tense emotion. 

“You agreed to the terms, Mihawk. Now it’s time to pay up-,” you uttered darkly, snapping your head over to his form with your eyes narrowed at him.

“-I meant your appearance. So wild, so feral, so-,” his next words caught in his throat as you drew yourself down from your sat position atop the barrel, “-unladylike.” You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes in your approach. Wiping your forehead with the back of your arm, you rid your face of the bone, blood and sinew blocking your view of him. He was a very pretty man, the most beautiful you had seen in a long time. Although slightly taken aback by his clean and uptight appearance, you stood your ground. 

“What would you have me wear then? Silks and satins while I dance amongst the chaos? I think not, lord Dracule Mihawk,” you spat at him, laughing dryly at your own comment. Mihawk sucked in a small breath through his nostrils, wincing at your comment with his lips curled into a snarl. You overemphasized a sigh, placing your spear against your back and stretched your arms to cool down your body. 

“I’ll make you another deal then, Mihawk,” you smirked again up at his towering form, “I’ll go and get cleaned up and don some pretty little dress for you,” you prodded his bare chest with your index finger and traced a pattern against his pectorals, “and you can go and relay the play by play to Vice-Admiral Garp completely starkers, okay?” 

Mihawk growled, eyes looking to your tender touch against his chest and almost again finding himself falling to his knees under your radiant ferocity. He rolled his neck, arched his soldiers back and leaned into your touch. 

“Fine,” he spat in response, gripping your bloodied wrist beneath his palm and curled fingertips, “but it better be something tight and preferably black.” You giggled at his comment, raising your other hand up to his cheek and patting it affectionately with a small utterance. 

“What a good boy you are,” you praised him with another cooing taunt, scrunching up your nose and smiling with your feral eyes, “now take off your boots, coat and pants and run along now. I’ll be all dolled up for you and ready for you at the waterfront tavern. I might even see that your clothes are cleaned, pressed and waiting once you arrive.”

Your comment finally broke him, a warm laugh cracking through his tough exterior and rumbling within his chest to pour from his mustached lips. 

“It’s a shame I lost,” he leant his cheek into your touch, prompting you to furrow your brows in curiosity. He stooped his form lower to you, tickling your face with his playful and breathy whisper, “I would’ve liked to have shown you how well I can please a woman.”

BONUS

Eyes were either focussed exclusively on the ceiling or marines would simply turn around as the darkened and well seasoned lord of Kuraigana entered the military office building. Holding true to his word, and the promise of good company after his humiliation, he sauntered confidently into Vice-Admiral Garp’s office donning nothing but Yoru strapped to his back, his cross-blade hanging loosely from his neck, and his feathered hat atop his sea-sprayed, curled, dark locks.

[frostedfaves]

Control

Masterlist

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You lose your temper with Wanda after a mission and she decides to correct your behavior.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, arguing, brief blood mention, dom/sub dynamics (mommy kink havers unite), smut: fingering, oral, edging and overstimulation, also supporting women’s wrongs 😌

A/N: posting for the first time since October is kinda terrifying but I wanted to share this idea. if it flops I was never here

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To say that you were pissed would be an understatement.

You were younger than the other members of the Avengers so you hadn’t been running missions as long, but you’d definitely been at them longer than Wanda, who was the current source of your anger. The others could practically feel the discontentment radiating from you and knew from experience not to pay any extra attention, but it seemed Wanda couldn’t keep your eyes off of you. Unfortunately for her, you quickly figured out how to keep your thoughts locked away, but it didn’t take a mind reader to know you weren’t in an approachable mood.

The door to the jet had barely touched the floor beneath it before you were walking out, declining any medical attention on the way to your room because it wasn’t your blood staining your suit and skin to begin with. Instead you stripped away the dirty clothing and hopped into the warm shower to wash away the physical reminders of what upset you in the first place.

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind since you won’t allow me to find out for myself?” 

Wanda was seated at the edge of your bed when you emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and you couldn’t say that you were surprised. This is how you usually found her when you had a movie night or an outing planned, having given each other permission to enter your designated spaces at any time. You considered not giving her a response despite her confirmation of knowing you were upset but your mouth had other plans.

“I didn’t realize I was allowed to speak for myself,” you responded in a tone seemingly calm to an outsider as you went over to the closet to find fresh loungewear. “Or is that only reserved for special occasions?”

“What does that–”

“You’re not my fucking mother, Wanda!’ you all but screamed at her as you tossed sweatpants on the bed beside her. 

“So this is about the interrogation.”

“No, it’s about the tv show I watched last night,” you rolled your eyes sarcastically. “Of course it’s about that! You were way out of line and you could have cost me intel if I didn’t find that flash drive on his body. Unless I signal to you or directly tell you I need help, I don’t need help! I especially don’t need you running to my fucking rescue every time someone’s a little mean to me.”

“He wasn’t just ‘a little mean’. He was threatening you!” she argues and you let out a laugh void of humor.

“Wanda, what the fuck was he going to do to me tied up with a gun to his head? Please, enlighten me.”

“Don’t be condescending right now.”

“I wouldn’t have to be condescending if you weren’t such a trigger happy pussy during the mission!”

“You know what?” Wanda was in your face within two steps, hand closed tightly around your jaw, forcing you to make eye contact. “I may not be your mother but maybe I should start acting like one. You clearly need better direction.”

“Wanda–”

“Mommy,” she insists while squeezing just a bit tighter, and you release a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Mommy,” you repeat quietly and she grins.

“That’s my good girl.”

The two of you stare at each other for what feels like minutes before she pulls you in closer and goes in for a kiss. Despite your arms being frozen at your sides you melt into it, feeling almost a relief of tension that’d been building for quite some time if you were being completely honest. A shiver traveled down your spine as you felt her free hand carefully unwrapping your towel, and you heard it land in the chair nearby.

In a flurry of movement you were suddenly against the mattress, staring up at Wanda as she climbed over you. One of her hands held your wrists together above your head while the other wandered around your exposed skin. Her kisses left your lips and traveled down the side of your jaw, around your neck and down your hardened nipples, and you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you as she pulled one into her mouth.

“Don’t have much to say now, do you?” she teased as she switched to the other nipple, chuckling as she licked and gently tugged at it, and all you could do is whimper again breathlessly. “I didn’t think so.”

Your wrists are freed from hers for only a brief moment before you feel a tingling sensation, realizing that she’d instead opted for her powers to hold them together as she travels further down your body. Your heart was beating fast with the anticipation of it all, but you couldn’t help attempting some sort of comeback in the moment.

“Don’t be so – oh my god.”

Your cockiness was short-lived as Wanda suddenly dove tongue first into your pussy, your back arching just a bit as she began circling around your clit. By the time she wrapped her lips around the bundle of nerves you’ve started bucking your hips, and she’s quick to grab onto your hips and hold you into place. To your surprise, she kept going without interruption until she made you cum, and you couldn’t help the noises that came when she continued tasting you, suddenly inserting two fingers as well.

“Please don’t stop, I’m gonna–”

“Look at me.”

You let out a loud whine in protest when she pulled her head up and slowed down the motion of her fingers drastically.

“I want you to repeat after me or that last orgasm is the only one you’ll ever get out of me. Nod if you understand,” she commanded and you nod. “Good girl. Tell me that you are going to listen when Mommy tells you to do something because she knows best for you.”

“M-mommy,” you stuttered out a moan when her fingers plunged deeper for a moment.

“Say it or I’ll stop.”

“I-I’m going to listen when Mommy tells me to do something because she knows what’s best for me.” 

“I’m going to tell Mommy when something upsets me instead of acting like a brat,” Wanda continued, brushing your clit with her thumb for a moment and grinning when you stuttered through your repetition. “Now remind me who you belong to again, love?”

She inserted a third finger and quickened her pace suddenly, and you almost forget your instructions until she delivered a quick slap to your hardened nipple.

“I’m yours, Mommy. All yours,” you assure her breathlessly, feeling relief when she praised you again and begging her not to stop.

“I’ve got you baby, don’t worry.”

She caressed the stinging nipple with her thumb as she dove back in with her tongue, teasing your clit again until she couldn’t hold back and started fully sucking on it again. She took pleasure in the sounds you made, so much so that she kept making you cum over and over until you finally started protesting and trying to escape her hand and mouth despite how good it all felt. Even then she made sure to get one more orgasm out of you, slowly pulling away with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Open up, my gorgeous girl.”

The fingers that were inside you passed your lips and you cleaned them for her hungrily, feeling something stir inside you again when you saw her lick her lips. Wanda noticed you watching and slowly removed her fingers, replacing them with her own lips and tongue.

“Such a good girl for me,” Wanda praised while climbing backwards off the bed, and you watched her slowly remove her own loungewear, your eyes heavily focused on her own hardened nipples and she chuckled when she noticed.

“Maybe you could taste two things for me tonight.”

[kamiversee]

The F*ck List (semi-official) Breakdown.

The following was submitted by my lovely ☃️anon, & I needed to make this it’s own post given how long it is, my replies & clarifications are written in between this breakdown & theory (Ex: A/N > Etc.). 

Here, you’ll find majority of details you may have missed & maybe even more to think about. Enjoy :)

(wc; 5.7k) (content; spoilers ofc)

holy shit Kami. i literally had to take the entire day to process everything. before anything else, i need you to know that you've created an absolute masterpiece. TFL was the first fic i ever cared to keep up with and it has set the bar impossibly high for any other writer out there. please take your time with TFL 2, i'm so excited to read your other work!! also a break sounds like it would be so good for your mind considering how long you've dedicated yourself to this story 😭😭😭 you're seriously impressive. heads up, i didn't proofread this at all bc i finished typing this at 4 am LMFAO so forgive me if it's all scrambled and makes no sense.

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A/N > Thank you for taking the time to write this breakdown, I seriously appreciate it so I wanted to take my time in responding to it & engaging with you :)

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now, on to the yap. i deadass cracked my knuckles before typing all this out.

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A/N > You’re so real for tht ngl

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i reread the entirety of TFL from chapter 1 and my brain is so melted from analyzing that i'll prob find more details tomorrow after i sleep on some theories 😭 BUT HOLY FUCK YOU REALLY WEREN'T KIDDING WHEN YOU SAID YOU WERE HINTING AT GOJO'S OBSESSION SINCE LITERALLY THE FIRST CHAPTER??? the fucking hint being that "Gojo's desire for you is so strong it's almost frightening." GIRLLLLLL 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

your foreshadowing and referencing is insane. idk if you intended a lot of it, but a lot of it caught my eye.

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A/N> I TOLD YOU GUYS IVE BEEN DOIN IT SINCE THE FIRST CHAPTER !! Okay not exactly but like there was a vibe I had from the first chapter & when I later came up with the twist & went back and saw that everything would connect perfectly ^.^

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chapter 7; the reader and Gojo have lighthearted banter about how the reader "started this" situation.

"I made a mistake." [reader] 

"A good one." 

"Bad one." You correct.

this was regarding a completely different situation but it baffled me how much it connects to the plot itself; the reader making the "mistake" of leaving her door open, and how it lead to months full of trauma and love. probably completely unintentional, but such a good detail.

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A/N > Very intentional btw, it’s supposed to be known that, in a sense, Gojo x reader is forbidden :)

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Choso's still staring at you intently, "What version of you would someone not like?" 

The way he words his question only furthers that little feeling in your chest. It's almost as though he were implying that any and all versions of you would be acceptable in his eyes. - Chapter 16

THE WAY WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT CHOSO WOULD STICK BY US REGARDLESSSSSSSS AAAAAA WE'RE SO BLIND!!! i just hope this stays true to the sequel :')

"No, I wish you didn't have to hate me." He says, shutting his eyes again and sucking in a deep breath, "B-But... it's uh, It's okay. I can live with you hating me." - Chapter 21

AAAA WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!!!! WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THIS WAS FORESHADOWING OUR FUTURE WITHOUT GOJO 😭😭😭 how he can live with the idea of the reader hating him so long as she's happy with Choso, especially considering his later revelations of how twisted his actions were and how if you stuck with him, he'd view you differently. fuck.

You despise the fact that he loves you. To you, it's almost entitled for him to feel like he has that right. How dare he hold such a strong emotion for you? If he felt this way, why is he forcing you to sleep with people for him? It makes no sense. 

Why would someone claim to love you and put you through so much? 

If he's been in love with you all this time, why start the list in the first place? Why couldn't he have just tried to win your heart from the beginning? Why the list? Why the blackmail? You don't understand him. - Chapter 23

i'm crushed. we didn't understand because we didn't know that Sukuna was involved. that could mean a million other things. i have some far-fetched theories about this but hear me out later!!!

the entirety of chapter 23 had me fucking floored while i was rereading. THE FORESHADOWING WAS EVERYWHERE!!! EVERY FUCKING WHERE

"No sweetheart, Sukuna's an asshole but..." His expression flickers and his smile fades away. He swallows and then clears his throat, "I'm pretty sure he'll satisfy you just fine." 

...

You narrow your eyes at him, "Are you sure?" 

...

 "Fuckin' positive," Gojo suddenly sounds pissed and you grow concerned. The arm around you gets a little tighter while he walks you through some crowds and you keep looking at the man confused. 

There's a vein popping out along his jawline because of how hard he's gritting his teeth.

of course he's aggravated because he knows that Sukuna is the one behind the list in the first place 😭😭😭 I'M SORRY WE DOUBTED YOU SATORU, FUCKKKK

——FIFTEEN MINUTES. That was the exact amount of time it took you to seduce Sukuna. The act was way too easy. Actually, it was suspiciously easy.

BECAUSE HE FUCKING KNEW 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"What all did you plan on doing tonight aside from getting harassed by strangers?" Sukuna suddenly questions against your skin. 

You ignore how close he is and the way his lips make you tense, turning your head to face forward. Chuckling at his last comment, "Same thing as everyone else here." You reply, slightly confused by his question. 

"Bullshit," He utters, "Nobody dresses like this without the intent of gaining my attention," Sukuna claims while his hands slide back down along your body.

this 100% could be just him being cocky and Sukuna, but the recent reveal just makes this feel like an extra demeaning interaction. but of course, it's Sukuna.

chapter 24 is so fucking shady too with everything we know. i know you addressed some of these points already bc i brought them up in previous anon messages, but these things still had me paranoid;

the way Sukuna leaves us and tells the reader to go to his room after a certain amount of time (i know he could have just been tidying up real quick but everything about this man has me on edge)

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A/N> A lot of people are on edge about this but I’ll be honest, there’s nothing crazy that happens in between this time period. Not saying nothing happens but nothing crazy— it’ll be addressed later (in the next fic most likely)

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the way he's been consistently on the phone since the reader entered the room, which is shortly after she messaged Gojo saying that she'll be able to cross Sukuna off of this list by tonight which he wasn't happy with at all.

no seriously, he kept diverting his attention to something in the bathroom and then came out, still on his phone. maybe he's talking to literally anyone else but STILL I'M PARANOID

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A/N> This is to show the fact that Sukuna is a very socially active individual, & hints to the theory (I think you later state) that he has connections.

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this happens in chapter 25 but the way he keeps smiling while the reader kisses him is just so smug of him especially considering the original reason as to why the reader's even interacting with him

then the spicy chapters with Sukuna…

the foreshadowing that the lack of knowledge of Sukuna's reputation will come back to bite her in the ass; first with the knowledge that he is abusive, and then her finding out that he is the curator of the list, knowing the full details of her blackmail and even threatening her again.

WHO DID HE FUCKING FIGHT HELPPPPP MY MIND IS BOGGLING there's no way it's Gojo, right? they're both too unscathed in these next few chapters for there to have been a fight between the two of them.

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A/N > It’s not Gojo. 🙏

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THE FUCKING MOMENT WHERE HE CONTEMPLATED SOMETHING WITH THE PHONE IN HIS HAND??? I FUCKING KNEW IT. I FUCKING CALLED IT WAS SOMETHING SHADY AS HELL.

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A/N> The other Sukuna hint I was talking about is right before this moment btw, you’re welcome ;)

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then he has the audacity to hold his tongue right afterwards?? it's such a big hint towards the fact that he knew about the list from the beginning UGHHHHHHHH.

the way he tried to humor the reader about her "job" even though he was in on the whole thing. UGH. SUKUNA WHEN I GET YOU SUKUNA?? 👊👊👊👊 especially with that "whore" joke right afterwards. i can't stand him. i know that it's implied that he has a twisted view on women from having abusive women in his life (his mom and his ex who he punched) BUT STILL. he's so lucky he's fictional and hot.

the fact that we're able to pick up on the fact that it's a "crazy coincidence" that he continues the whore jokes UGHHHHH HE HAS BEEN PLAYING US FROM THE STAAAAAARTT

Gojo got upset at something from Sukuna's party, he didn't want you to call yourself a whore all of a sudden, Sukuna seems to have believed that was your actual job, and you remember how pissed Gojo seemed as he thought about you sleeping with Sukuna- 

Holy fuck. Are the two connected somehow? Is something going on? What does Gojo owe Sukuna? Does Sukuna know you only slept with him as payment to clear Gojo's debt? Is-

GIRL YOU WERE ALMOST THERE!!!! YOU ALMOST HAD IT!!!

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A/N > I love teasing in my narration by nearly spoiling things 😹

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---

seriously though, these chapters killed me. the official end obliterated my heart. it's so fucking bittersweet i want to scream at the top of a high building. the reader ends up happy and with someone she loves, which is fantastic for her. she deserves that after everything she went through. Choso treats her so, so well.

but Gojo. with the theories i have, i feel horrible. i was so harsh towards him as a die hard Choso girly but these endings changed me. i just hope i'm right.

the fact that his healing journey is harsher than ours makes this ending sting so much. he's healed, and you can see it with his demeanor from the call and the way he interacted with the reader.

we were always made aware of the way he looked at us such deep attachment. the initial gleam shows that he's happy to see us, but that he's not reliant on us for his happiness anymore. he's finding that on his own, and it's a grueling process for him. i wished the reader gave him a hug, but that would probably make me feel even worse.

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A/N> He gave her a lil side hug (with his arm over her shoulder) & was resting his head on hers at the end if that makes you feel any better 😅

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"Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start." i'm gonna throw up bro i'm so sad. i'm proud of his growth. his obsession was so, so strong but he always prioritized the reader's happiness over himself. i know that being self-sacrificial is so core to his personality but it doesn't make it suck any less. i'm devastated. i started blasting mitski in the car on my way to work after reading this.

i thought i was ready for the journal burning. i was so ready for this tie to be severed, for them to finally move on. but i failed to realize that it could ultimately mean a life without each other. it makes sense as to why, but it still sucks.

kami i need that poly ending before i cry my eyes out at 4 am rn. you know i can't handle angst, but bittersweet endings lowkey hurt me even more. i need all my babies to be happy. i desperately need it.

but that alt ending... fuck. in a horrible, sick, and twisted way, i'm relieved. i'm a Choso girly from the bottom of my heart but i can't let this Gojo go omfg. even if he shows up for one more chapter, i think i'll be alright. BUT IT BETTER NOT BE FOR DEATH KAMI!!!! I HAVE A FEW EXCERPTS THAT SUGGEST DEATH FLAGS BUT I AM SIMPLY NOT LOOKING AT THEM. DON'T DO THIS TO ME KAMIIIIIII. i need this boy to be frolicking in a field of flowers or something. my heart can't take this.

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A/N> I know I reference death a lot but that’s just to add a sense of how dramatic the characters are 🫶

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---

okay, time for my mind-fucky theory. pls bare with me. if it wasn't obvious by my last post, i'm 100% on board with the theory that Sukuna's blackmailing Gojo, which started this whole thing. but the thing that is getting me is how this all connects. i have some assumptions that could make sense, but there are a handful of gaps. here's my thought process;

Sukuna's blackmailing Gojo by using his obsession/love against him.

we are already familiar with the fact that Gojo has liked the reader for years. there was a chapter where Gojo mentioned that it started off as a "crush" but he was so oblivious to his own obsession up until the reader mentioned it to him. it's to the point that he didn't understand what was wrong with the idea of hurting people for the reader. who's to say that Sukuna didn't catch him in some sort of heinous act regarding the reader like stalking?

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A/N > You’re cooking with this one and I almost, almost had to go get the fire extinguisher :D

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Gojo didn't understand the difference between love and obsession until later on in the story. this would be consistent with the implication that Gojo just loved her so deeply that his morals were askew as we have yet to find out how far his love goes.

what if Sukuna caught him in the act of doing god knows what, and brought up the fact that if the reader found out about this, that she'd get super freaked out and would do everything she can to get away from him (considering probably barely knew each other, if at all, at this point). but why would Sukuna devise such a plan over a money bribe? well, Sukuna's already revealed to be wealthy, and maybe he was bored. the same line that Gojo kept repeating to the reader whenever she questioned him as to why he did it. what if Gojo asked Sukuna why he's blackmailing him, and he said the exact same thing; "I was bored." we see how much Sukuna mirrors Gojo's speech by calling the reader "sweetheart" often, what if Gojo did the same thing? 

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A/N > Gojo & Sukuna do have a few parallels in this story & they will be addressed more in the sequel.

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we wondered in chapter 23 how Gojo reaches out to these men to ensure their debt is "paid," but considering how oblivious everyone else on the list is to Gojo owing them anything, it would make sense that he only reports to Sukuna as he is ordered to do so. but two things stumped me on this theory overall.

the reader said that she used to party a lot and get involved with boys before Gojo. if he was stalking her for so long, why did he wait so long to approach her?

what specifically would be the blackmail that Sukuna has on Gojo?

regarding the first point, it's been mentioned that Gojo has been "scared of women" and was shy when it came to approaching the reader. he knew of her for so long, but was able to constantly slip under her radar. considering how much of a pervert he is, it wouldn't have been surprising for him to sneak around and watch in on the reader hooking up with other guys. after all, these guys were probably complete strangers to him and all he cared about was you. remember how Gojo was basically able to tune out his own best friend, Suguru, when the reader was hooking up with him in their living room? it wouldn't be wild to assume that he was able to do the same for your other hookups as he spied on you.

to connect this with second point, what if Sukuna caught Gojo being a peeping tom on the reader during a party hook-up? while being so distracted in the act of spying, Sukuna spots him. the reader wouldn't be alright with the fact that someone who's barely an acquaintance (if that, depending on the time this occurred) to her has been perving around and watching her have sex without her consent. she would do anything to get away from Gojo, and of course that would crush him. Gojo tried to buy Sukuna's silence by any means necessary. so, Sukuna generated a list of people that he and Gojo mutually knew for the reader to fuck. the reasoning for it would be the fact that Gojo has to sit through the process of having the girl he likes fuck a bunch of guys besides him, and the fact that Gojo knew all these men would make it sting more. plus, he has a reputation for hookups. (chapter 8)

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A/N > You’re like RIGHT there with it and yet not there at the same time omg 😟

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but why would Gojo agree to this deal with Sukuna, and why would he also go with the method of blackmailing the reader? it's basically a guarantee that the reader would be scared away regardless. but again, we could recall that Shoko mentioned that he was too "scared of women" to approach the reader at first. this was his chance to finally approach her. plus, "once that video is gone, there is no excuse he'll have to be around you." (chapter 8)

---

but the more i thought of this reasoning for the two points, the more bizarre it felt. so what if instead of Gojo being a peeping tom, it was Sukuna. we get so many hints that Sukuna has eyes and intel everywhere. we get an indirect implication of this when he called us out for rolling our eyes during our phone call with him. yes, it could be completely by chance, but it's still a great hint that he "sees everything" and "knows everything." we get an even bigger hint towards this in the alt ending when he directly references The F*ck List.

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A/N > Others have taken note of how Sukuna knew she rolled her eyes but trust me, that’s just to show that Sukuna knows the reader’s body language more than he’s let on & paid attention to her a lot during the time they were together. 

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it wouldn't be too far fetched to assume that he has some shady videos taken of people without his consent, some possibly acquired through other people (like how Gojo was revealed to have sent Sukuna the video of the reader from the first chapter). what if Gojo caught Sukuna with the video, threatened him to delete it, and Sukuna counterthreatened to have it be sent and posted everywhere. it would be highly ironic, but consistent with the way that Gojo and Sukuna practically mirror each other at times. the reasoning for the list choices would still be the same for this theory, too.

---

my citations for these theories ☝️🤓

“You once asked me if I love you because I blackmailed you or if I blackmailed you because I love you and my answer is both,” Gojo confesses as he turns to meet your gaze, “Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start.” - Chapter 56

loved you from the start; his obsession has been consistent from the start (supports Gojo being a peeping tom theory) or he has always had a deep concern for you (supports him wanting to stop Sukuna from spreading blackmail of you instead).

“I’ve sacrificed everything for you, y’know.” 

“How? What’s everything that you’ve sacrificed, hm?” 

“You. I sacrificed the woman I love to make her happy.” Gojo admits, and of all he’s said thus far, that feels like the truest statement. 

“I could’ve been happy with you.” You remind him. 

He laughs, “Yeah well, I’m an idiot.” 

You scoff, “That’s all you have to say?” 

“Yup.” - Chapter 56

is he an idiot for being a peeping pervert instead of just approaching you normally? maybe. how does this make her happy? she ends up finding love through Choso, through the list, through the blackmail.

But deleting the video means ... he has no more leverage over you and can't force you to help him with the hole he's dug for himself. -  Chapter 8

the hole being the blackmail set against him by Sukuna.

Gojo's behind you cursing at himself for being unable to tell you the truth. 

He's so scared that you'll never help him without the blackmail and, well, he has every right to be because you're pretty sure that if it weren't for those videos he has over your head, you wouldn't be doing any of this. - Chapter 9

the videos he's referencing is the original video from chapter 1 and the fake video he lied about with Suguru, but he can't tell the reader the truth because it's too twisted and risky (supports Gojo peeping tom theory).

He silences himself in thought. There are so many ways he could go about answering such a question but the possibilities of how you may react are endless. Plus, you're drunk and if he's going to admit or explain anything to you, it'll be while you're sober. 

"Because..." Gojo's voice gets so quiet that you almost don't catch what he says, "...I don't have any other choice." - Chapter 21

if he didn't go through with his list, Sukuna would have went through with Gojo's blackmail, thus resulting in either you getting as far away from Gojo as soon as possible or Sukuna's video being sent around.

He let something slip abruptly, "W-Wish I c-could tell you everything, sweets..." 

Your brows furrow at that. 

Are you missing something here? - Chapter 22

YES GIRL!!!! SUKUNA'S BEHIND THE WHOLE LIST, HE'S BEHIND THE BLACKMAIL GIRLYPOP

"Anything," Gojo says, meeting your gaze. He's so serious that it's almost dark the way he looks at you, "I'd do anything for you." - Chapter 29

"I meant it when I said I'd do anything for you." 

You follow his motions and then end up right back in his arms, "Right..." 

"I'd sacrifice the very thing I love just to see you happy." Gojo claims proudly. 

You scoff, "Thought' I was the thing you loved?" 

"You are." 

His words bewilder you, "Then that makes no sense." 

"It won't." Gojo shrugs. - Chapter 29

🧍���♀️

anything. even if it means putting your body, heart, mind, and career on the line. directly supports the theory that Sukuna initially had blackmail on the reader.

"We're the same, y'know..." He suddenly says, his voice breaking again, "We both want someone so terribly bad but our situations prohibit us from getting that person." 

"You could've prevented all this though..." 

Gojo sniffles and you feel a drop of wetness slide down his cheek and slip against your palm. The man was crying? Why? - Chapter 30

this whole time we've been told that Gojo and the reader share more similarities than the reader realizes. what Gojo is to the reader, the reader is to Choso. while Choso now knows of the men that the reader slept with, he doesn't know why. he doesn't know about you being blackmailed. you know that you had to sleep with these men. you don't know why. you didn't know it was because of Gojo being blackmailed.

"For loving me, Satoru. It's not a crime," You say, mocking a comment he made to you earlier, "You're allowed to love me. So, for that, and that only, I forgive you." 

Those words healed so many more wounds in his heart than you realized. It was like that was all he ever needed to hear. If Gojo's mistake was loving you and that's what caused this, then you forgive him. 

If in some twisted way, his feelings started the list, you forgive him.

COME ON NOW.

There’s so much going unspoken but the two of you knew what either was saying, you understood each other more than either of you realized. - Chapter 35

“Well,” Gojo sighs heavily and then draws your hands off his face, leaning down to you a bit, “Sometimes, sacrifices need to be made in exchange for one’s happiness.” 

“Are you telling me that all this was for the greater good?” You quiz as you raise a curious brow. 

“Something like that, yeah,” He shrugs. - Chapter 45

You tell him, “If I had one wish, it’d be that you did that from the beginning.” 

Gojo opens his mouth to say something but then he swallows his words down. He nearly fucked up. 

“All you had to do was talk to me,” Your shoulders raise into a shrug as you move a hand to the doorknob, “Things could’ve been different if you did.” 

“Even if I’ve been obsessed with you since the beginning?” He questions and he’s stepping closer to you again. He can’t possibly wrap his head around that possibility- 

You laugh a bit, “Especially if you were obsessed from the beginning,” You didn’t know it but that statement right there made the man feel as though his world was falling apart, loads of regret tumbling over him as he stares at you with wide eyes, “Satoru I think you forgot but, before all this started, aside from Shoko… I was lonely.” 

Gojo’s throat goes dry and he fails to form a response to that, “I…” 

“If you had just talked to me one time, and more than a hey or how are you,” The way your eyes soften, a slim sheer gloss of tears coating your gaze as you speak to him, “I would’ve fallen for you.” 

He grits his teeth, “Don’t tell me that.” 

“But it’s true.” You say. 

And just like that, Gojo was crumbling all over again. If only you knew how much he regretted everything after hearing you say that. - Chapter 46

if he had just spoke to the reader before all of this, maybe she wouldn't have gone to those parties, hooked up with those people, and caused whatever kind of blackmail Sukuna had on Gojo (or on her).

He wishes he could take it all back, his feelings for you included. If only he could go back and stop himself from ever being curious about you. That’s what started it after all. Because, at the end of the day, Gojo knew who you were before you knew who he was— hell, even before Shoko knew who you were. - Chapter 53

then what is the timeline of his obsession starting? has it been before Gojo? could his blackmail have taken place even before Shoko introduced you two, adding to the weight of the threat that Sukuna held over Gojo's head (regarding the peeping tom theory).

┏━━━

A/N > The timeline on Gojo’s interest, not obsession just yet, on the reader will be addressed in the sequel so this’ll be answered there <3

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---

but there were certain parts that stumped me and my theories so i have some weird reasonings around them;

It's selfish of him and seriously fucked up but, he's said it before and he'll say it over and over again-- you're all he has. He made promises to everyone on that list, promises of delivering a woman to them at some point, and of course, he couldn't convince anyone he knew to do such a thing. 

So again, the situation with you just happened to be a coincidence. 

The problem is that Gojo hates that it's you. He hates that you're the one he ended up doing this to. - Chapter 8

Gojo's known to be a silly guy so it could make sense that he actually did promise these guys hookups for reasons unrelated to his blackmail. after all, he does have a reputation for getting people hookups. the coincidence is that Sukuna now has dirt on Gojo and wants to toy with him. by making the reader sleep with them the guys he coincidentally owes hookups to, he fulfills his role/reputation and relieves his debt at the same time. two birds, one stone.

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A/N > As we later learn that some of the “debt” Satoru claimed to have isn’t real, we can also infer that his reputation & the promises he’s made to these men were done out of coincidence. Take Toji for example; tell me you can’t see an interaction between him & Gojo where Gojo gets a bad grade and wants to get it up so he taunts his professor with the idea of getting him a hookup & Toji would laugh it off considering Gojo’s reputation ;)

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another thing that stumped me is why Gojo got so worked up with the reader referring herself as a whore, and the connection to Sukuna. my delulu reasoning is that once Sukuna threatened Gojo with blackmail by either of the two theories/methods i mentioned, Sukuna casually referred to the reader as a whore. that caused a major fight between the two, possibly even getting physical (which can refer back to the implication that Gojo has hurt people for the reader).

the fight could have increased the tension and severity of the situation, so Sukuna decides to add Choso to the list knowing how easily attached Choso gets. in chapter 5, the reader and Gojo were discussing the list and Choso specifically. Gojo was even noted to be relieved when the reader had mentioned that they'll just have to hope that Choso doesn't get attached, as he obviously holds deep feelings for the reader. Sukuna knows that by going through with the blackmail with Choso involved, Gojo most likely will not end up with the reader if Choso get attached and the reader reciprocates those feelings.

also, the counterargument that Sukuna and Gojo are actually friends/allies in this situation just doesn't sit well with me. it would make for a crazy twist but it just feels too out of character for Gojo. but then again, how would Sukuna specifically know about The F*ck List? but idk, it just feels so wrong to me. maybe i have too much faith in Gojo lmfao. after all, he has consistently shown a great dislike towards the guy since chapter 23. but maybe it's my denial speaking. i really don't want to think of Satoru going through this whole arc only for it to reveal that he truly is a piece of shit. pls don't do this to my pookie my heart cannot handle it </3

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A/N > Remember, Gojo is a good actor & you go a long period of time in the book not realizing he’s not as much of a villain as he pretends to be 😉 

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there's that moment after the reader fucked Sukuna that still messes with my brain. with my theories, my brain's thinking that he contemplated on collecting even more blackmail on the reader. for what reason? idk, to be an ass? to torment Gojo further and add more to his blackmail? but maybe he decided not to because he already has plenty of blackmail on the reader (if the theory of Sukuna having a video of her from way back then is true) and fucking her knowingly made Gojo pissed considering all the dirt Sukuna has.

so why can't Gojo tell her the truth now? why does he want to wait years in advance? maybe he's hoping that by that time, not only will you forget and not care about the situation overall, but maybe Sukuna will forget all about it as well. the chances of Sukuna holding on to the reader's blackmail for that long is slim and the reader would most likely be in a situation where she is completely separated from Sukuna depending on her job and living situation with Choso. the stakes are lower than if he were to reveal everything to you now, at a moment where your life is still so uncertain. it would go against his wish for you to end up happy.

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A/N > Maybe Gojo doesn’t tell her the truth because he can’t, just as he said 🌚 Perhaps he’s not allowed to yet. After all, why would Sukuna even tell the reader he made the list in the end? ^.^ Just some food for thought!

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---

regarding the future of TFL... fuck, bro. i have no fucking idea. i'm too caught up in the (presumed) past. i'm mourning fr. i love this fic sooooo fucking much. whenever you decide to pick up on the sequel, i will be there. if you choose to publish anything else in the meantime, i will be there. thanks for such a fun and memorable read, Kami. i'm excited to bookbind this soon 🤍🤍🤍 now, i need to watch blue lock to shove these feelings down.

yap fin (for now)

-☃️

A/N > I love you sosoosooooo much for this. These theories are like reading an entirely new fanfic sometimes except, I know all the answers & what’s going to happen next, which only makes me more excited ^.^ Thank you for taking the time to make this, thank you for reading, thank you for supporting, just, THANK YOU.

This right here is exactly what I write for; people like you :)

To the others reading this breakdown & theory, thank ☃️anon because she’s a damn godsend & ilhsm ^.^ (definitely showing favoritism rn, sorry not sorry, ily all I swear)

Edit; Since you’re watching Blue Lock, I can’t wait to bring my Shidou fanfic here because a lot of the drama in TFL has inspo from that fic, which I wrote first ^.^ & I could totally see you enjoying it because not only is it a childhood friends to lovers than enemies & back to lovers troupe BUT it also includes Itoshi Sae x reader which ofc, adds hella drama :))

P.S. It’s two am as I finally post this and omg sorry it took me a while, I wanted to answer other anons first before unpacking this badboy, again, tysm!!

[shirefantasies]

Omg of course you can do something with the idea if you want! I don't mind at all and the fact you liked the idea so much makes me so happy💕

And I'm also fine with being called girl in like a gender neutral way yk like the same way people say guys to refer to everyone sometimes, so no worries with that either!

-🌱

YEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWW with permission then I present.......

A Failure of Words- Haldir x GN!Reader

Warnings: brief implication of past trauma, GOOFY ELF CONTENT 😌🤙🏻

“What are you going to do, then, shoot it down?”

And you had laughed at that. Was it really so funny? Complaining about a cloud and his brother suggests firing an arrow at it? Haldir scoffed. Surely your giggling was only to respond politely to their inane humor.

You had been excelling in your target practice of late, your skills with a bow increasing thanks to Haldir as much as his brothers, while Rúmil and Orophin were more to thank for your progress in Elvish. Necessity, of course, as he was the only one with any skills in Common, something you had initially bonded over. Yet somehow your simple bond with his brothers seemed...different. Had Haldir himself ever made you laugh so? Had he ever tried?

"Come, now," Orophin addressed you by name, "hit three more targets and we'll show you that old painting of our beloved Haldir!"

Grinning, you took up your weapon again, stretching some exertion from your muscles before you followed the others' motions toward the next dangling piece of chipped wood. Rolling his eyes, Haldir followed.

~

Rúmil struggled several times to pick up the roll he'd dropped, and upon final success at lifting it he thrashed about as if the thing was fighting back. Again you laughed, a hand falling to the table you sat at.

"My father used to do that too- it's as if you knew! I had no idea you two were so funny. I suppose Haldir is the serious one," you teased, gaze shifting to the eldest brother.

All this time he'd thought of them as the ridiculous ones more than himself an outlier. They had not been promoted, neither had bothered to learn the common tongue, both preferred an aimless life in the trees to the ambitions of the world, protection of what they held dear. Not that they couldn't fight, but... Was Haldir himself the outcast? Heart sinking, he gazed around the table, taking in how easily conversation flowed between you and his brothers. Like the breeze. Haldir was the one who had accepted you when you first came to Lothlórien as a refugee, fought for an outsider to stay despite his usual prejudices. The torture you'd had to endure at the hands of your captors made him sick to even imagine, and fortuitously Galadriel had agreed.

He was the only one who truly knew your secrets, and so he had desired to be the first to truly make you smile again; now, it seemed, his brothers had robbed him of that, forced him back into his station as "the serious one". Worst of all, perhaps not the one who would hold your heart.

Instant it was not, but the elf had found himself falling for you more and more during his time as your guide. Watching your wonder as you were led higher and higher into the sun-soaked trees, chuckling at your confusion when you pronounced and repeated new Elvish words. Seeing you bloom like a sunflower finding its roots once more. Always had he struggled with displays of affection, and perhaps that had cost him more than time. Or else this was another challenge for the captain, a new type of battle to undertake: correcting the many times his words failed him in the face of your fair spirit.

"You might be surprised," he finally spoke, interrupting his own whirlwind of thoughts again to meet your eyes, "you are aware, after all, of how much I taught them."

Rúmil and Orophin's heads both tilted, gazing at their eldest brother with new interest. Newly widening smiles. Knowing ones. An unfortunate side effect he would deal with later. For the time being, there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"Of course I am," you replied, taking a sip from your goblet of water, "Tracking, archery... And surely they would not know so much of your history were it not for you."

"And about the beasts of the land, of course." A breeze blew through his hair as he inhaled, next line at the ready. "After all, my name is Hal-deer."

Groaning, Orophin and Rúmil both simultaneously dropped their heads into their hands, shaking them with great disapproval. Lacking fluency though they may have been, they knew enough to recognize such a play on words, and it was clear they did not like it. Too bad- it wasn't for them.

You? Bursting into laughter, you clapped your hands lightly, head thrown back in amusement that had Haldir grinning widely for the first time in likely far too long.

Still shaking their heads, both younger brothers excused themselves, Orophin practically shoving Rúmil away from the table as they scrambled off to refill their drinkware.

"Never have I heard you make a joke, Haldir! Why now? And why one so-" Words failed you, too, inquiry wholly aborted by a fresh bout of laughter. Well did it convey the rest of your question, however.

Suppressing a wince, Haldir willed his smile to return. Wait, perhaps it looked forced. Was he overthinking this? His brothers would probably say yes.

His brothers. "My brothers...they make you happy in a way I seemingly never can. Perhaps I envied them." His voice emerged as little more than a whisper, eyelids fluttering half-shut as if they could conceal him from your vision.

Your brows furrowed at this. Head giving a faint tilt of confusion, you leaned forward, forced his grey eyes to meet your gaze. "I...I confess I do see your brothers differently," you told him, your own voice shy, "I always wished to think of them like my own brothers."

Heart lightening, Haldir replied, perhaps a bit too readily, "You can."

"No," you shook your head, paused, "well..."

It was your turn to drop your gaze, your posture straightening as you gave a supplying incline of the head, clearly hoping Haldir followed.

He did. Did he? Jaw dropping slightly, he reached out a tentative hand, saw that you did not flinch. Lifting up your gaze gently by your chin, Haldir spoke again.

"That you may wish as well, for though my words have failed me again and again it is the very same in my heart. It vexed me not being the one to make you smile, to win you over, when your name had been so inscribed upon my heart. But if you'll have the serious one, he shall have you."

Your answer came in the form of a kiss that had his heart soaring, one a bit too quick for Haldir's liking, but he quite literally had all the time in the world if he wished. He could wait. For once, his words had not failed him.

"Again and again, my Hal-dear," you replied with a devilish grin.

The golden-haired elf let his own face fall into his hand at that one. "I'll not be forgetting that one anytime soon, will I?"

As fate would have it, Rúmil and Orophin designated that moment to return, whooping as they set their goblets back down, clearly having spied upon him through some curtain or another as they often had in their youth.

"Not in the slightest," they answered for you, voices perfectly synchronized.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

[gh0stsp1d3r]

𝒮𝓌𝒶𝓃

-coryo with a dancer! Reader cause why not. Might make this a series. Love at first sight type trope

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Part 2, part 3

Coriolanus Snow's heart belonged to you the second he laid his eyes on you. The dancer girl he's been told he had to mentor.

Everyone in district 12 knew you, the girl who danced before she walked, some liked to call you. Though you were mostly known as swan. The white frilly dress you usually wore was the main reason, the way you danced so gracefully.

You, like everyone else in the districts, were poor. You had no family, no one to go home to. But still, you were happy. You served as a sign of hope, of love and care to everyone who could see you dance.

Your heart sunk as your name was called, people murmured as they turned to you. You took a deep breath before walking up, ignoring the stares and the whispers.

You stood up to the stage, looking directly into the cameras with a glare. You detested the games, they were inhumane and terrible.

“The “runt girl” from district 12. She belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

That’s the moment that the entirety of the capital knew Coriolanus snow would have his hands full with this girl.

The train came to a slow stop, you were helped out by Jessup, the man from your district who you’ve gotten to know.

You both had turned around when a blonde haired boy came up. He was gorgeous, he stood in front of you and held out a white rose.

“Welcome to the capital.”

You looked at the rose, slowly taking it and admiring it.

“You look like you shouldn’t be here.” You remarked, a small smile on your face as your fingers pulled off a petal or two.

“Well, I shouldn’t. But I’m your mentor.” He was interested in you.

“A rebel, huh?” You joked. “What is a mentor supposed to do, exactly?” You asked curiously.

“To take care of their tribute.”

“What’s your name..?” You asked him.

“Coriolanus Snow.”

“Y/n L/n. But most people in 12 know me as swan.”

He was about to ask you something when he was cut off by a scream.

“No!” Some girl shouted as she was thrown out, you looked up and frowned as the peacekeepers grabbed her and forced her to stand up.

“Assholes.” You mumbled when they walked past you, looking them up and down. Some others came from behind and told you guys to move along.

He had followed them into the truck, once the peacekeepers were distracted, running into it. You watched him with a furrowed brow, he looked back and saw all the tributes looking at him.

What an odd man, you thought.

“Hi.” He said to them.

“What’s the matter pretty boy? You in the wrong cage?”

“No. This cage is delightful.”

“Get him reaper.” One said.

“I will kill you right now.” He pinned him to the wall of the truck.

“He’ll do it too. He killed a peacekeeper back in 11.” One girl said.

“I say we all kill him.”

“Do you guys have family back home? Friends? They’ll kill everyone you know if you kill him. Probably not the best idea.” You shrugged, not looking up at them and still just messing with the rose.

“And he’s my mentor, I would rather you not kill him.”

“How come you get a mender?”

“Mentor. You each get one.” He corrected.

“And we’re all just supposed to believe you?”

“I’m just.. here to help you.”

“Why does uh.. dancer girl here get special treatment? Why aren’t our menders here?”

You looked up from the rose now, looking at the girl in your face. You then looked over to the blonde boy, he was looking back at you. You shrugged, “Just not inspired, I guess.”

He sent you a small smirk, and the truck started to beep. Everyone started falling, and the blonde boy quickly grabbed you, holding you. You both had fallen down together, and looked out.

You were both inside some cage, there was a crowd of people outside, looking as if you were all animals.

“It’s terrible.” You mumbled out, he looked at you now, curiosity in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Everything. Why do we have to pay the price for something we had no part in? It’s like we’re fuckin’ animals.” You turned to him now.

He didn’t say anything, instead swallowing the lump in his throat and looking at the crowd. You did as well.

He liked that you were fierce. You weren't afraid to speak your mind, or your truth. It made him all the more enamored with you.

A performer forced to fight. That’s all you were. He knew it, of course he did. He was your only shot of winning, of surviving. You slowly learned to trust him and began to do what he had asked of you.

He asked you to dance once you got up on that stage, and he was right. The donations came pouring in, the people loved you, and now it wasn't people only from the districts, it was people from the capitol.

He watched with a small smile on his face as you leaped across the stage, you seemed at peace when you danced. It was graceful, and elegant even with the now worn-out dress.

You truly were just a little swan, his swan to protect and keep.

[chiharuhashibira]

Hello!! May i request Yandere Giyu headcannons and what he'll do for the reader if it depends on his life like hes SERIOUSLY OBSESSED with the reader and would do anything for she/him you can pick the gender! *(Don't do it if you don't want to i am not forcing you Goodnight or Goodmorning or afternoon or evening idk!! :D)*

I WANT! And good evening from where I am at rn!

Thank you for this wonderful request UwU

I know I am a day late on Giyu's birthday but I still want to write this~

Happy birthday Giyu hihi I love youuuuuuu!!

Anyways, let's go now to his HC 🥵

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒎 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Content Warnings: Upper part is SFW but don't scroll down the NSFW Warning if you're a minor! MDNI!

🌸𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐤𝐚🌸

A little backstory: You are a very attractive demon slayer; however, you have this attitude. Some say that you are much too fit to be Sanemi Shinazugawa's tsugoku, and yes, you are. Even if you're not Tomioka Giyu's tsugoku, he makes sure that you always accompany him on his missions, as he is SERIOUSLY OBSESSED with you. He doesn't care if you should be partnering with Sanemi; he'll just do anything to be with you. Giyu will definitely give up everything just to have you by his side, which definitely shocked you as, at first, you had seen him as a very nonchalant person. But then he fell in love with you when you went on a mission with him. It was like magic. You didn't do anything, but it seems like he experienced love at first sight with you. Then everything changed. You became a couple, and he's possessive in a way that you also love.

❥ Giyu loves touching you. He uses training as an excuse to steal caresses from you and sometimes even kiss you. It surprised you the first time he did this because he is usually very reserved, but then you realised that Giyu can be quite affectionate, especially when it's just the two of you. Especially when it is just you and him.

❥ Tomioka doesn't like it when he hears other demon slayers teasing Sanemi. Giyu ensures that the Wind Hashira knows that you are already in a relationship. It even went to the point where he slapped Sanemi's hand away from you when the Wind Hashira was correcting the way you hold your nichirin sword.

❥ Giyu hates it when he sees you with Sanemi. However, he can't just take your privilege to be the Wind Hashira's tsugoku because he is jealous of him. So then, he takes your free time as an opportunity to be together. It's mostly rendezvous, as he always sneaks in to be with you. He knows Sanemi will try to kill him if he knows about this, but apparently, all Giyu could think of is that he doesn't care if Sanemi knows or not.

❥ On missions where you'll need to be disguising, Giyu makes sure that your partner won't take advantage of it. He usually gives them those dead-eyed looks that will immediately shatter their souls.

"No touching. If I knew you touched Y/N inappropriately, I'd end you."

That is not so Giyu-like, so you'll end up surprised but also amazed.

❥ Giyu loves to play with your hair. He would often whisper that you're his and his only while doing so. That would make you giggle, and of course you should assure him that you're only for him.

❥ At times when you arrive at the Butterfly Mansion, wounded from a mission, Giyu will be there much earlier than Shinobu Kocho, who already lives there. He will make sure to know your state first, even before the Wind Hashira, whom you're training for, knows.

❥ He makes sure that he'll be the first person you'll see as you wake up. And when you do, Giyu will plant a longing kiss on your lips, as if he had waited for years to do so.

❥ Giyu will take care of you. Or, at least, insists on doing so because he hates other people touching you. He even starts a beef with Shinobu if she tries to be the one to change your clothes.

"She's mine. I'll do that."

❥ One time, Sanemi got pissed off with his attitude and decided to load you with tonnes of training just to put a break with Tomioka's constant bothering. But that didn't stop him. Giyu recommended Sanemi do a hard-core mission, and fortunately for him, Ubuyashiki-san agreed. So that gave time for the both of you. And yes, Sanemi ended up okay but wounded just because Giyu wanted to be with you so much.

❥ At the time when Sanemi was away, Giyu made sure he fucked you every single moment of the day. Instead of the sword training, you had that stamina and cargo training with him on almost every part of Sanemi's estate.

❥ Giyu loves marking you. He's obsessed with you, so he makes sure he'll get a taste of your skin from head to toe. But what he loves the most is eating you out and sucking on your titties, as those parts of you taste so delicious to him.

❥ Tomioka loves doing it rough. Surprising right? He likes overpowering you in bed. He loves it when you moan his name so loudly that you might wake the servants nearby. But actually, he doesn't care. He likes it risky.

❥ Giyu makes sure to leave love bites on your body. Sometimes it is so visible that it annoys Sanemi a lot. The Wind Hashira despises it, not only because he has a soft spot for you but also because Giyu is a nuisance when it comes to visiting his residence. But of course, that won't stop your man from sneaking in and giving you the best nights of your life.

❥ The Water Hashira isn't just good with swords; he's also good with his fingers. He won't stop fingering you until you tell him that you'll only be there for him.

❥ Horny Giyu is like a disaster, at least for the Wind Hashira. If you don't fuck inside the poor man's residence, Giyu will sneak you out and take you home. One time you even missed training just because he missed you so much that he wanted to fuck your brains out all day. Sanemi will even raise this issue with Ubuyashiki-san, but the man will not believe him as he knows Sanemi as the troublemaker and Giyu as the calm one who wouldn't do that kind of thing.

❥ When it comes to you, Giyu is ready to give up everything. He just loves you so much. And yes, you love this Yandere Giyu too, even if sometimes he acts rashly and selfishly. You just want him so much as well. It might sound crazy, but you'll rather have him this way, as you know that even if he is like this to you, you're also one of the reasons why he calms down. And he's the only reason why you do so as well.

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

This might be a little bit OOC on Giyu's part but I want some fan-service, at least for us HAHAHA!

Anywayssss! Thank you so much for this request! I love yah all and advance Happy Valentine's Day!

Feel free to request, reblog, or comment!

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸