#this is revenge for him putting me on blast too

[silversdoll]

THIS WAS FROM MY FRIEND .WE WERE TALKING ABOUT GOD DAMN ETGHAN WINTERS .

IM GOING TO GO INSANE

[mykoreanlove]

The cat's revenge

Your eyes shot open. Finally. The last day of your self-imposed sex ban was finally over.

You turned around and faced your boyfriend who was still sound asleep. His behavior had surprised you – Minho had begged for the first couple of days but then he just gave up and accepted his fate, never mentioning it again. You wondered how it was so easy for him, giving up sex like that.

You masked your frustration as best as you could, it was your ban after all. His behavior needed to be punished but most of the times it felt like you were the one that was suffering the most.

Minho slowly opened his eyes and smiled softly. “Baby, are you up?” He put his arms around you and hugged you tightly. The last two weeks were not only depleted of sex but rather every kind of contact that went beyond a peck. Minho nuzzled into you and sighed happily. “I missed this. I missed you, y/n.”

The butterflies in your stomach awoke as well, turning you into a mess in seconds. He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Let’s not fight like that ever again, please.”

“Agreed”, you mumbled as your hands touched his body. God, you missed feeling his chiseled abs. You missed your fingers trailing down his v-line. You let out a quiet gasp as your fingers traced over his bulge, already stone-hard.

Minho tilted your face up and looked into your eyes deeply. You could have sworn you saw them sparkle more than usual. “Let’s not rush it, baby. Why don’t I take you out for dinner tonight and after that, we uh, continue where we left of two weeks ago?”

He jumped out of the bed and went to shower while you lay in bed cheerily.

The ban worked perfectly, look how sorry he is. I think this was a great idea after all.

Empowering music was blasting through the stereo as you were getting ready for your date. You took a long bubble bath, shaved everywhere and applied scented lotion all over your body. You were so ready for tonight. Your body was covered in the dress he loved the most, your neck sprayed in the most seductive perfume while your face was slightly tinted in different colors. You felt like a goddess ready to be worshipped after so long. Minho knocked on the door and entered slowly.

“Baby, are you ready?”

He was holding a giant bouquet of flowers, red roses to be precise. “Are those for me?” It took him a minute to answer as he was eyeing you up and down, too flabbergasted to speak. Minho cleared his throat hastily. “Yeah, uh, they are. God, I don’t know why I feel so nervous. It’s like our first date all over again.” You chuckled, feeling the same way.

“Baby, you look mesmerizing. Absolutely mesmerizing.”

You took the flowers out of his hands and kissed his check. “So do you, Min.”

He had made a reservation in your favorite restaurant, spoiling you with steak and red wine. You didn’t even notice the stares of the other guests as you two were too engulfed with each other.

You had missed this so much. The sex ban was a risky idea, one that stirred up a lot of controversy among your peers. Your friends warned you about this – withholding sex as a form of punishment was just as shitty of you, but you were desperate for revenge. Minho needed to be put in his place and luckily it all worked itself out.

“Do you want dessert?”

You smirked and got up to leave. “Yeah. But not the kind they’re serving here.”

The desperation for each other was immense, you barely made it to your bedroom. “Min”, you mumbled in between passionate kisses. “Yeah, kitty?”

“I want you. Now. Fuck me now.”

He shook his head as he put you down on the kingsize bed. “Kitty, right now I wouldn’t survive two seconds in your exquisite pussy. I’d combust instantly after what you put me through. No, let me take care of you first.”

He had that devious look in his eyes - the one that made you afraid for your life but also as horny as ever. He stripped you naked and hovered over you, placing wet kisses all over your body.

“Spread your legs for me”, he instructed quietly. He let out a gasp as you did, admiring your pussy for minutes.

“Kitty, look how wet you are.”

He traced his fingers through your blinds, collecting your juices on his middle finger. “All for me, huh?” Minho put his finger in his mouth and sucked on it, his eyes rolling back from pleasure. Seeing him like that was such a turn on. “Min”, you whined desperately. “Take care of me, now.”

He snapped back to reality and pumped his fingers into you – starting with one and adding two more. He was slipping in and out in a steady motion, getting you ready in minutes. He hovered in between your legs and watched you breathe quicker, your breasts heaving up and down. Minho curved his fingers, hitting all the right spots as you moaned excessively.

He could read you like a book, knowing damn well that you were close to coming undone.

“Min”, your moans filled the bedroom, which filled him with joy. “Min”, you whimpered his name. “MIN-“

And just like that he took out his fingers, making you open your eyes in irritation.

“Why did you stop? I was about to cum”, you whined in annoyance.

Minho chuckled. “Sorry Kitty, not yet. I want to make you cum real hard after those two weeks. Will you let me?”

He didn’t even wait for your reply as his lips landed on your throbbing core, licking his way to your clit. Your hands grabbed his long hair instantly and pulled on it, you felt the vibration of his grunts in your pussy. His tongue was quickly switching places between your clit and entrance, making you squirm from overstimulation. Your thighs clasped around his head, which made him go faster, making you dizzy from all the sensations.

“Min”, you moaned again, “Min wait, this is too much. I-“

Quickly, he pulled down his pants and thrusted into you – hard and rapidly. Your breath got caught in between your moans, he was stretching you out as much as he could.

His lips were on your ear as he thrusted, his animalistic grunts were the only sounds you were able to hear. Your body was on fire, but you were too far gone to notice.

All you cared about was your release, all you cared about was Minho fucking you into oblivion. But this time something was off.

Minho knew exactly what he had to do to make you cum in seconds, he knew your body better than you did yourself. Yet, this time he was working around it, eliciting all the spots that made you weak but never truly igniting them. Instead, he was irritating them.

Minho pulled out and slapped your clit with the tip of his cock, turning you into an even bigger mess. Tears started to roll down your cheeks as pleasure mixed with pain. Minho grabbed the vibrator he had gifted you last Christmas and turned it on to the highest level, holding it to your swollen clit. Your felt your body shaking, you lost all control over its movements.

“Min”, you cried. “Min, it’s too much. Please, I can’t take it anymore.”

“Kitty, kitty, kitty”, he whispered into your ear condescendingly. “What do you want?”

“Cum”, was the only word you were able to mutter in that state.

“Oh, is that so?”

You nodded.

“I’ll give you what you want kitty. Under one circumstance though.”

You would have agreed to anything right now. Your body felt like it was electrocuted – with vibrations, sensations and oxytocin. You nodded forcefully, not even questioning what he wanted of you.

Minho traced the vibrator along your folds and pushed it inside you, making you arch your back from pleasure. “I’ll make you cum kitty but only if you promise me to never use sex against me ever again.”

All you heard was cum and promise, ignoring the rest blindly. “Yes”, you huffed out. “Yes.”

Your boyfriend pulled the vibrator out of you and pushed himself into your heated core, thrusting into you as hard as he could. You felt the heat waves crush over you, stars blinding your vision. Minho’s voice in your ear: “Promise me, baby.”

You gathered your remaining strength and kissed him forcefully, promising him to never do such a thing ever again.

Content with himself, he gave you what you craved. You came multiple times, this had to be the most intensive orgasm you had ever felt with him. It felt like you were high for hours, jerking and shaking, too invested in the blankness of your mind.

Minho held you in his arms tenderly and waited for you to come down before he cleaned you up and pulled the blankets over you. You fell asleep instantly, this sexual encounter was too much for you to bear.

Minho however was beyond pleased. He whispered declarations of love into your ear while placing sweet kisses on your forehead. “You did so well for me, kitty. I am so proud of you.” He pushed strands of hair behind your ears and watched you sleep peacefully.

“You have no idea how much I love you. Only you, my adorable baby. Only you.” Your boyfriend’s swollen lips landed on the tip of your nose, smooching you once more in the most adorable way. Everybody knew how much he cared for you, how much he loved you – even if his ways of portraying that were very bizarre at times.

“Let’s not ever fight like this again, okay?” He nuzzled into you and closed his eyes, joining you in some restful sleep. “You learned your lesson, didn’t you?”

______________________________________________________

@maximumkillshot @weareapackofstrays @lieslovefantasy @thatonenoona @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @livzsposts @i2nsstuff @n3tunobellah @redstayrosie @straykidsholicleigh @notastraykid @astayinwonderland @hanjisung-enjoyer @nicolechingish @sassyhumancoppainter @got-me-seein-stars @kairinne @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @kkamismom12 @xoxominghxe @f3rr0-fluid @straykidsholicleigh @xoxominghxe

i hope i got u all if not please share <3

[hearts4golbach]

Get the Angles Right!

chapter 3.

pairing:

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

warnings:

none

"Well, good morning, Johnnie." You locked your apartment door. "How was the meeting?"

"long and really fucking boring, obviously." he smiled at you. "How'd you sleep?"

you pressed the button on the elevator. "I couldn't. my mind was flooded with ideas for you. it was crazy. I filled up a third of my notebook."

"I can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing." Johnnie laughed.

"I think it's good. who need sleep, anyway?" You smirked, shooting him a wink before stepping out of the elevator. "The first place I wanna show you is right up the street."

"Okay," he hummed as he walked next to you. "Despite all of the nasty shit, New York is really pretty."

"Yeah," you agreed. "I like the aesthetic of it all. it makes me feel more professional, like I'm in a movie. it's good motivation, sometimes."

"I'll have to come back and visit again."

in all honesty, you had forgotten he didn't live here in the first place. your heart ached. you looked away from him as you recollected yourself. "Yeah, you should." You shot him a fake smile and turned your head back towards the path.

you paused before speaking again. "My dream is to open my own store, some day." You looked at the vacant building across the street. "I mean, I'd make less singled out designs. some shit that anyone can walk in and buy, you know?"

he followed your gaze to the building across the street. "What would you name it?"

"probably something a lot cooler than L/n Designs, but you know. I may be creative with fabrics, but not with names." You sighed and laughed at yourself. "Maybe my boring name is why my clothes don't catch people's attention."

he shrugged. "I mean, I don't know jack shit about fashion or the fashion industry, but I'm sure it just takes time like everything else."

"You're right. It does." You took a step closer to him. "You're pretty fashionable for someone who apparently knows nothing about it."

"I kind of just throw together whatever is in my closet." he laughed. "I've been dressing like this since middle school, y/n."

"Me too! I mean, whenever I go out I'm dressed up but 90% of the clothes I wear are pajamas." You pointed towards the shop coming up. "This is it."

"Wait, what even is it? you never told me where we're going." Johnnie squinted in an attempt to read the sign.

"Wow, you put a lot of trust into me. it's a record store. not one of those big corporate shits that only sell today's top pop record vinyls, but you'll see." You cut yourself off, not wanting to spoil it.

he opened the door for you. you thanked him and walked in. "The quote unquote emo section is my favorite. whenever I actually want to buy a record, I always find one of my favorite albums. I'm not sure if everything in this section is actually emo, but, yeah."

you flicked through the selection, finding the 'Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge' album that comes with a red record.

"Oh, shit." Johnnie mumbled as you pulled it out of the selection.

"i know! I'd blast this shit whenever I was younger. to be fair, I still do." you laughed. "I'll have to come back and snag this one in my free time. I don't want to carry it around all day."

Johnnie began looking through the next part of that section. "damn, I really fucking underestimated this place." he pulled out the album 'Pretty. Odd.' by Panic! at the Disco. it was just a normal, black record.

"I love panic! I've never seen pretty odd here before." he handed it to you, and you flipped it towards the back.

he looked at you with a soft smile. he admired your excited facial expression. "yeah, me too." he said softly.

you looked back at him. the eye contact lasted what felt like hours, and it was electric. you shook your head softly. "Uh, yeah. they also have shit like vintage concert posters and tee shirts. of course, they're all expensive as fuck so I've never gone out of my way to get them. they're cool to look at, though."

Johnnie followed you to the back of the store. his eyes were wide as he looked over the countless posters that were hanging on the wall, each one overlapping another. "how does someone even get all of this shit?"

"I don't know, donations or people sell them, I guess." you shrugged.

the twi of you walked around towards the alternative pop section. you and Johnnie reached at the same time. your hand fell on top of his. you hesitated before pulling it away. "God, how many times are we going to do that?" You joked.

he shrugged, his face red. "it's whatever, I don't really mind."

you tried to hide your smile. "Me, either." You flipped through the first few. "Look, melanie martinez. do you know her?" You asked, handing him the 'Cry Baby' album with a baby pink and blue record.

"I've heard of her, yeah. I've never really listened to her, though." he looked at the back. "these song names are sick as fuck, though."

"you should check her out," you mention, putting the record back in its place.

you two left the store. "There's this small cafe across the street. if you're interested, we can stop and get coffee or something. it's on me this time, by the way."

"Yeah, let's go." he smiled

you pressed the button for the crosswalk. the light changed, signaling you to go. you began to step forward before Johnnie grabbed your arm and pulled you back. you watched in shock as a car whipped past you.

"fuck, don't scare me like that, y/n. i can't have you getting hit by a car right in fucking front of me." his hand stayed rested on your arm.

you turned around to look at him. "im sorry. maybe I should pay more attention." You laughed nervously.

"Don't worry about it, just glad you're okay." his hand slid down your arm and gripped your hand. he shook it gently before dropping it.

you carefully crossed the street with Johnnie glued to your side.

whenever you reached the cafe, he held the door open for you. "Thank you. apparently, this place is family owned and shit. it's really good, I go here all the time. I usually get a mocha frappuccino and a croissant. what do you want?"

he walked up to stand beside you and scanned over the menu. "Hot chocolate?"

you hummed, "I've never had it here before. Do you want a croissant, too?"

he nodded. "Yeah, sure."

you instructed him to go pick a seat, and you would order. he walked off, and you walked up to the counter.

"Hi! what can I get started for you?" The woman had a cheerful smile. she was older, probably in her late 50s.

"Can I get two croissants, a hot chocolate, and a mocha frap? both medium, please." You smiled back as you pulled out your card.

"Yes, ma'am. your total is on the screen, swipe whenever you're ready."

you paid the bill. she took your name for the order, and you went back to sit with Johnnie.

"everyone seems really fucking nice here." he mentioned. he looked away from the window to make eye contact with you.

you shrugged. "more or less. it depends where you go. that's why I have my signature spots." You smiled and sat at the seat across from him. "Is everyone a dick in LA or something?"

he shrugged. "People don't really interact with each other, to be honest. but not everyone is like that. it just feels like it's rare to find someone who is actually nice."

"Maybe you're just looking at it the wrong way. everyone is nice in their own way of showing it, or at least that's what my mother used to tell me." you explained. "I always try to see the good in people."

his bright blue eyes were excentuated by the sun. "that's actually a really fucking good way to look at it. damn, I never thought about that."

you shrugged. the woman called your name, and you went to go grab your order. it was on a small tray, which made it easier to carry everything.

you passed Johnnie his hot chocolate and croissant, then took your own. he took a sip of his hot chocolate. the taste made him raise his eyebrows. "this is actually really good. wanna try?"

"yeah, wanna try mine?"

you traded drink and took a sip of eachothers. the hot chocolate was really good.

[snarp]

Real True Law Stories

This is heavily-paraphrased because 1) it happened a while back, and the conversations were longer and involved a lot more of me going "no! no! augh," and 2) the case was not actually about Ale-8 bottles, but its actual focus was similarly-specific, which would have made it really easy to look up.

Dad: Can you value a collection of old Ale-8 bottles for me, honey?

Me: ...possibly, but I'm not going to. Is this a blasting case again? Did someone's designated used Ale-8 bottle shelf fall over?

Dad: No, they got stolen. He had this shed or big closet or something totally full of collectible Ale-8 bottles, he's got all these insurance photos, he'd had them appraised by the national Ale-8 bottle expert -

Mom: Dear...

Dad: No, he's definitely really upset about these lost Ale-8 bottles! He's traumatized! Do you think I don't deal with liars? ...He thinks his estranged drug-addict relative stole the Ale-8 bottles.

Me: No. That did not happen.

Mom: That's probably not what happened, dear.

Dad: Drug addicts steal stuff all the time, what is this -

Me: Dad, no, this is fucking logistically -

Dad: - don't, I'm telling the story, stop it - "logistically" -

Me: A drug addict would not steal and hock a huge collection of Ale-8 bottles! They're heavy and fragile and that's a ridiculous specialist hobby, logistically it'd be way too -

Mom: The bottles were definitely stolen, dear?

Me: Why wouldn't you just steal, like, the TV? Or the car or whatever?! You don't steal the Ale-8 bottles!

Dad: They were stolen! He was gone! He'd had a fight with this person, he couldn't get back into the house for a while, he came back and the bottles were gone, he was heartbroken!

Me: No! You don't steal the collection of Ale-8 bottles, that's not what you steal!

Dad: No, they knew he really liked these bottles, it was revenge or something? Seriously, he keeps asking me why I can't make the police go and arrest this person and find out where they put the bottles, he's really angry! He misses his bottles.

Mom: *sigh* Okay, dear. So the Ale-8 bottles were stolen and insurance won't cover them.

Dad, to Me: So you're going to try and value the Ale-8 bottle collection for me. It'll be easy.

Me: I am not.

Dad: He has a spreadsheet.

Me: No. - You said he already had it appraised!

Mom: Before the Ale-8 bottle heist...

Dad: He did! I mean. There's this guy who writes Ale-8 bottle valuation books, he lives - somewhere, and the client knows him over, I guess, an Ale-8 bottle club? Ale-8 bottle mailing list? On the internet. - and he came on this road trip to just look at these Ale-8 bottles in the guy's shed or closet! Does that make sense?

Me: If this is an actual collecting hobby that other people engage in, and not a scam - if Ale-8 bottle collecting is something that's real - then yes, that's normal if you've got a valuable collection, I guess? How much did he say all these Ale-8 bottles were worth, is this even a sane case to be taking if he's telling the truth?

Dad: [a very large number]

Mom, who has been quietly thinking about this while we do our manzai routine: Well, there are definitely other Ale-8 bottle collectors, honey. [name] likes them, I think?... That seems awfully high. He had them in a shed? Like a garden shed?

Dad: I've seen the book! He showed me the Ale-8 bottle book! It was a shed or a garage or a side room or something. They weren't outside.

Me: If what you're trying to figure out is whether this guy and the appraiser are for real, I'd just... look around online and make sure there are actually people buying and selling these things, and talking about them to the extent he says there are, I guess?

Mom: If there's a real community and a real buyer base.

Dad: The Ale-8 bottle book had numbers in it, like values.

Me: The numbers don't mean anything if his buddy wrote the book and if they're the only two people who care about Ale-8 bottles!

Dad: You know, you're awfully suspicious of these Ale-8 bottles...

Me: It's a completely ridiculous story. - You're suspicious of them, too! That's why you even asked me to value Ale-8 bottles!

Dad: You're just not a trusting person. You're paranoid. You know, I trust all my clients completely -

*My Ale-8-bottle-related-outrage HP drops too low and I die.*

Mom: No. What she's saying is that their book value -

Dad: Yeah, that's the word, their book value! Like a Kelley Blue Book value for a car, that's what this other guy does, he does the Blue Book for the bottles. So all I have to do is show the insurance company the Kelley Bottle Book, right?

Mom: No.

Dad: It's fine! The insurance company will be completely cooperative. What are they going to complain about, it's right there in the book.

Mom: Does the book reflect the market values of the bottles? The street values? Are these the prices that people pay on eBay or wherever when they're buying the bottles?

Dad: I don't know.

Mom: Are they the prices he paid for them?

Dad: I don't know. Probably.

*I finish my corpse-run and resurrect.*

Me: There's got to be an actual market for there to be market prices. People who buy the things and have opinions about how much they're worth and stuff.

Dad: Can you research that for me, honey? Research the Ale-8 bottle market?

Me: I'm not going to do that. You have [name] in the office, right? You are paying her money to do this stuff for you, correct?

Dad: You never want to help me. Help me research Ale-8 bottles. I don't know why my daughters never help me.

Mom: And then you have to prove all this stuff to the judge and jury. Will they believe that Ale-8 bottles are worth anything?

Me: Please show us how you will emotionally convince the jury that these Ale-8 bottles are worth money. Make it sound like you're really sad about the loss of the valuable Ale-8 bottle collection.

Dad: Nnnno! *laughs* Oh, my god, they're such bullshit! They're these little bottles! And he had zillions of them! He must have some sort of trauma in his past, I'm going to ask [Psychiatrist Who Acts As An Expert Witness In PTSD Cases] to examine him... - Well, this is some southern thing, like the little toy stock cars that guy had. I don't know, maybe a southern jury will buy it?

Me: Say that "a jury of your peers" means "a jury of Ale-8 bottle collectors."

Mom: Yeah, hope you get a collector on the jury or on the bench.

*- several months later -*

Dad: So do you want to hear what happened at court the other day? With my Ale-8 bottle guy?

Me: You're going to tell me about the Ale-8 bottle guy regardless. Did it turn out to be insurance fraud?

Dad: No, actually! - well, I don't know. "A reasonable doubt for a reasonable price!"

Mom: Dear.

Dad: So obviously the insurance guys are like, "this is bullshit! It's bullshit! Ale-8 bottles aren't worth anything, the whole thing is bullshit!" And I'm like, okay, well. And they don't want to go to mediation, and they give us this lowball number to settle, and, obviously, no.

Dad: So we go in front of Judge [X] the other day, and I'm like, *solemn expression* "Judge. My client has had his extremely valuable Ale-8 bottle collection stolen, and his insurance will not pay for it even though he had it personally appraised by The Ale-8 Bottle Man."

Me: Who is his buddy and who may well be artificially inflating the prices of stuff he and his friends have a lot of, sure.

Dad: You don't know that!

Mom: And opposing counsel said…?

Dad: So, [Other Lawyer], he got up there and he was like, "Well, Judge, I mean. Ale-8 bottles, right? They're Ale-8 bottles." And they start - but then the judge goes, "Actually. I wanted to say, I was looking over the documents in this case. And, well, I've got a bit of a collection myself - I've got the - 1492 Foofrall-something Bottle and a mint-condition Bluh-buh-buh Bottle, and" and then he just sits there and lists all these Ale-8 bottles he's got for like, several minutes.

Me: Is this a joke. Did this actually happen.

Dad: It happened! It did happen!

Me: Mom!

Mom: I know, dear. It happened. He is not making this up.

Dad: So I get out of there and I go over and talk to opposing counsel, and just! The looks on their faces! They looked so defeated.

Me: They've got to be really suspicious of you right now.

Mom: "Is this why he took the case? Did he know?"

Dad: No! I had no idea! I was just as flabbergasted as they are, I've never heard him - okay, did you know this terrible fact about Judge [X]? Did you know he was one of them? The Bottlers?

Mom: I did not know this. I knew that he golfed.

Dad: So, long story short, I kind of think that this case is going to settle?

Mom: Unless the bottles are just in his basement, and he posts a picture of them to his Facebook without thinking.

Dad: Huh?

Mom: Like your other guy.

Dad: Those weren't bottles.

[grandlinedreams]

Hii! I love your writing! Can you do a Law x shy yn please?

Hiya!! Thank-you so much, that really does mean a lot to me to have people enjoy my writing! Absolutely, I hope this is to your liking!! setting context: uh....just after Wano/defeating Kaido

He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves meㅡ

"There you are." You look up from your idle task as Law approaches. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"Nothing," you answer, hoping he doesn't notice the half-plucked flower in your hand and the discarded petals by your feet.

"Not in the mood to celebrate?" he asks, moving to settle himself beside you, Kikoku set aside carefully. He's been cleaned up and bandaged well, most of it hidden under clean, untorn clothing.

"Something like that," you answer. You hadn't meant to worry anyone with your disappearance, only that the loud, boisterous energy that the Strawhats seem to radiate is usually too much to handle when you see them. They have reason to celebrate, and you don't want to ruin the mood with your less enthusiastic presence. "What about you?"

"There's only so much of them that I can take," Law remarks dryly, though there's a hint of a smirk when you stifle a giggle. Despite his frustration and outwardly begrudging tolerance for them, you know Law has a growing soft spot for the other pirate crew. (Luffy has that kind of effect, you've noticed. Eternal canon blast cheer and a tenacity for friendship that strangely seems to always work in his favor.)

There's a lapse into comfortable silence, the sound of some distant nighttime animal echoing as you twirl the flower stem between your fingers. It feels foolish to put any kind of merit into the sway of a childhood game ㅡ you're smarter than that, you know better than that. (Curse those romantic notions you've read so often in books loaned to you on occasion by Ikkaku.)

"Something on your mind?" Law's question makes you look up and over, finding him watching you with soft amusement. "You were sighing pretty heavily. What's going on in that head of yours?"

Your cheeks warm, the half-limp flower spinning faster now between your fingers, an outlet for nervous energy. "Do you think..." You trail off, fighting for the right words. "Do you think we deserve a happy ending?"

It sounds dumber now that you've said it out loud, giving a voice to those idyllic fantasies you've so often found yourself mentally entertaining as of late. Especially so in voicing it to Law, when you know he's a man of science and logic.

"I think so." Law's quiet answer makes you jolt, watching him in surprise. He isn't looking at you, gaze focused somewhere off in the distance as he speaks. "I didn't used to, not when I was so sure that I'd die trying to bring down Doflamingo. And I made my peace with that, so long as I got revenge for Corazon."

Carefully, tentatively, you scoot closer. "And now?"

"Now..." He trails off as he lifts his arm, wraps it around your shoulders to press you closer to him. "I want that. It's what Corazon would want, too." He turns towards you, raising an eyebrow in question. "What about you?"

You spin the flower stem, watch the whirl of the remaining petals before letting it slip from your fingers. You don't need that, not with the weight of Law's arm around you, the quiet, tentative requital of your own feelings. "Yes," you answer at last, "I think we do."

[lost-in-tokyo]

Blue Pills

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader (au)

Words: 3,1k

Summary: Trying to get revenge from Gojo, Sukuna tricks him into taking viagra. Luckily for him, you’re around to help. (smut / nsfw)

A/N 1: I wrote this whole fic while listening to one song on repeat lol Hope you guys like it!

A/N 2: If you guys have problems reading this on dark mode, please let me know

Warnings: Mature content, Sukuna makes Gojo take viagra without knowing, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), creampie, swearing, Sukuna hears you guys doing it, reader is Sukuna’s twin sister.

It was a hot night in June when you and your friends walked back from a concert you had just watched. Enjoying your summer break, you and your college friends had decided to take a trip, catching on to a festival that was supposed to endure the whole week with many artists that you guys liked. 

The whole place was packed, full of sweating and drunk people dancing around and screaming songs at the top of their lungs as loud music blasted all day long. It was awesome! To say the least. 

The whole idea of coming to the festival was Gojo’s. He had convinced everyone to come, even your moody twin brother, Sukuna, who apparently was having a lot of fun, much to his dismay. 

“Fuck, today was crazy!” Gojo exclaimed, sitting on the grass beside Geto while you guys waited for your bus to arrive.

“I really liked that Dj, his show was awesome!” You said before taking a long drag from your water bottle.

You guys enjoyed the cool breeze hitting your bodies as the sun started to set in the horizon. Water bottles were emptied and Nanami’s last chips had to be shared among everyone. 

Once the bus arrived you sat on one of the free seats, beside Shoko, who seemed more tired than you were. The boys found places on the back of the bus, Nanami resting his head against a window as he tiredly closed his eyes. Sukuna sat on the opposite window, checking his phone while discreetly checking his pants’ pocket for a specific pill.

“Hey, I got your guys some beers before we left.” Your brother announced, showing Gojo and Geto two open beer cans in his hands. “For yesterday’s pizza, you know?” He offered the beer, reminding the duo of the pepperoni pizza they paid for everybody the night before.

You turned your head to look back. That was odd. Sukuna wasn’t a kind guy, if someone paid something for him, he would never feel like he had to pay it back, you knew that very well, and so did the boys, both of them frowned, staring at the pink-haired guy weirdly.

“What?” The tattooed boy asked innocently.

“What’re you up to?” Geto eyed him, trying to find his true intentions behind his red eyes.

“Just trying to make up for yelling this morning, I know that I get out of hand sometimes.” Sukuna shrugged before getting up and moving to sit on an open seat in front of you.

It was true, he got out of hand way too many times to be honest. That morning, Sukuna had gone crazy after a sleepy Gojo spilled coffee on his white t-shirt, making a big stain on it.

Suguru and Gojo eyed each other for a second before the white-haired shrugged and drowned a long sip of the beer. 

But Geto knew better, he knew Sukuna for enough time not to believe in a single word of what he said. He stared at the open can then looked at Sukuna, spotting when he had his head turned back, eyes fixed on Gojo, who was drawing the last sips of the can, a smirk forming on the pink-haired’s lips. That was all Geto needed to know that something was up.

“You can have mine.” Suguru gave it to Gojo. “I’m not really thirsty.”

“Thanks,” The white-haired replied, getting the can from the brunette’s hand and starting to drink it.

Taking a cigarette out of his pockets, Suguru got up, taking a seat beside Sukuna before offering him a cigarette. 

“I don’t know what you put in the beer, but it better be entertaining.”

“How did you know?” The tattooed guy asked.

“I know you well enough.” He shrugged, lighting up his cigarette.

Sukuna smiled. “In this case, don’t worry, it will be very entertaining.”

Time passed by and when you noticed you were entering the hotel lobby, Sukuna walking in front as he was followed by the rest of the gang. Nanami and Shoko followed behind while Suguru decided to flirt with the receptionist. You and Gojo coming last.

“Didn’t find a girl for yourself tonight?” You asked him as all of you stopped at the elevators.

“Nah, wasn’t feeling like it today.” He smiled slightly. Being in a place so full of people like this, you’d assume Gojo would be taking a different girl everyday to the hotel, but he hadn’t brought any, since day one.

“I find that hard to believe, buddy,” Geto said as he approached the group, the receptionist beside him. 

Gojo frowned and so Geto pointed towards his pants, where a huge bone was visible.

“Damn!” Shoko said laughing.

“I don’t understand,” Gojo looked down, eying his own tent in confusion. 

“Oh but I do very well.” Sukuna smiled proudly.

Satoru lifted his eyes to look at the pink-haired, demanding some sort of explanation.

“You found it really funny when you and Geto locked me out of the room naked last night, right?” His smile got bigger.

“Wait. What?” 

Geto chuckled.

“Relax, it’s just some viagra. Just so you can spend the night thinking of me.” Sukuna smirked, whispering the last part before a dry chuckle left his lips.

“You gave me viagra!?” Gojo raised his voice. 

“Yup. And you’ve got Geto’s dose too, so… have a good night.” Sukuna smirked one last time before entering one of the elevators along with you, Geto and the receptionist.

“Why did you do that?” You asked your brother.

“Relax, it’s just a prank.” 

“You’re such a dick sometimes.” You slapped his shoulder, to which he just rolled his eyes.

“You know that this can be dangerous right?” 

“Gojo’s young, there’s nothing to be worried about.” 

“How could you agree with this, Suguru?” You turned your head towards him, but he didn’t reply, his mouth was too busy kissing the receptionist. 

You gave them a disgusted look before looking at the pink-haired again. 

“Let’s take a look at the box, since you’re so worried,” Sukuna said as you exited the elevator, taking the viagra box from inside his backpack as you guys walked towards your rooms. 

“One pill… thirty minutes to take effect… usually lasts for two hours…”

“Two Hours!!??” Gojo shouted, he was at the end of the corridor. 

“Well, I bet on four since you took my beer too,” Suguru said chuckling before entering his room and closing the door behind him.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Sukuna.” Gojo started walking faster towards your brother, who quickly entered his room, closing the door right when Gojo got there, kicking the wood with strength.

Shoko and Nanami passed by, both being too tired to do anything about the situation, leaving you and Gojo alone in the corridor.

He looked at you, and you could see a mix of angriness and despair in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Gojo.” You smiled apologetically, touching his arm slightly before entering your own room.

You sighed as you closed your door, a part of you wanted to offer yourself to help him. It wouldn’t be much trouble since you always thought he was really hot. But you knew that Sukuna would freak out if you even kissed him. 

His friends were forbidden for you. And you were forbidden for them. Those were the rules.

One hour after that, you had just exited the bathroom, after having taken a long bath, very calm and relaxing. Listening to your favorite album on your headphones, you were unaware of the loud banging at your door.

As soon as you took them off, Gojo’s voice filled your room as what you assumed were his fists hit the wooden door repeatedly.

“Open the door, Sukuna!” 

You heard him shouting.

“Sukuna!” 

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you opened the door, his fist stopping inches away from your face as he tried hitting the door again.

“Gojo! What the fuck!?”

“Y/n? Shit. Sorry, I was looking for your brother actually.” He lowered his voice, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed by the situation.

“No shit.” You rolled your eyes while his traveled down your figure, clenching his fists when he saw you were in just a towel, feeling his member twitch inside his pants.”

“That’s his room.” You pointed towards the door beside yours.

But Gojo didn’t reply, nor moved. You looked at his face and noticed his gaze fixed on your body. 

“Hey!” You snapped your fingers in front of him. 

“Shit, sorry, y/n. It’s just that I’m….”

“Horny? Yeah, I can see that.” You finished for him. 

“Yeah.” He looked down.

“No luck with that?”

“No…. Sukuna could at least give me the box, I wanted to see if there’s nothing I could do.”

“Knowing my brother, he’ll never open that door.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He took one step back.

“To be fair Gojo, I think there’s only one thing you could do…” You raised your eyebrows.

“Yeah, I know… Fuck!” He walked a little in the corridor before stopping in front of your door again. 

“You need to help me, y/n.” Pleading eyes, filled with frustration staring at you.

“What!?” You choked on air. 

“Please. I’m begging you.”

You bit your lower lip as your imagination ran wild on the things you could do to him.

“I can’t take this anymore.” He pleaded, face filled with despair. 

You took one step back, opening the door wide for him to enter the room.

“Thank you, y/n. Thank you.” He said as he passed through the door, stopping near your bed.

You took in a long breath as you closed the door, turning around to face him.

“Okay, let’s see our options…” 

He eyed you expectantly.

“Have you tried… you know.... jerking off?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not happening.”

You blinked a few times. “Do you know why?”

“I don’t know, maybe I didn’t have the inspiration.” He looked at you up and down, and you cursed yourself internally as you felt your core start to get heated.

Fuck this. You thought.

Gathering all your courage you stopped in front of him, getting on your knees and starting to undo his pants.

“What are you-”

“What do you think? I’m helping you.” You answered, pulling his pants down to his ankles, happy for the fact that he came barefoot, making it easier for you to remove the fabric completely.

Even though you knew he was hard, you couldn’t help but widen your eyes when you pulled down his underwear and his member almost touched his belly. It had an average thickness but it was long, so long. His pink head was swollen, you could see that he tried to touch himself as precum was already leaking.

Your hands delicately touched his member, running your fingertips and nails along his length, hearing as he sighed from how sensible he already was.  You closed your hand around him, moving it up and down a few times before you got closer to him, licking his tip slowly. 

“Shit.” Gojo hissed. 

Taking that as an incentive, you opened your mouth further, taking the tip of his member inside of it. Starting to move your head up and down his length, you used your hands to take care of the rest as you created a slow pace.

Looking up, you saw Gojo’s eyes closed as he bit his lip. The sight was quite amusing, so you kept staring at him, trying to memorize every detail of it. He opened his eyes and looked down, meeting your gaze. His baby blue orbs filled with desire as his pupils dilated. 

His burning gaze making your core get wetter and a small moan leave your throat, causing pulsations on his member that made him moan in pleasure. 

Increasing the speed of your movements, you hollowed your cheeks, making Gojo groan as his hands went down to your hair, grabbing your strands firmly. After some time, his breaths were heavier and he whispered your name out while you kept on sucking him, tasting his precum in your mouth. 

“Fuck, y/n.” He moaned, tightening his grip on your hair with both hands as he started to thrust against your mouth.

Your hand let go of his member, finding his thighs for support, as you tried your best to relax your throat and not to gag on him. Your nose almost touched his thorax as he moved his hips back and forth in your mouth. Your eyes started watering as he kept going deeper and deeper on your throat. 

He stopped for a second, his cock completely stuffed inside your throat, holding you in place for a few seconds, causing you to gag against his length, making him groan. His member started pulsing and you knew that he’d cum soon, so you used one of your hands on his balls, playing with them gently to help him with his climax.

“Oh, fuck” He groaned loudly as jats of his sperm hit the back of your throat, slowly sliding down. 

He kept your head pressed against his thorax for a few more seconds before letting go of you, making you gasp loudly for air, as you let go of his balls. A thick line of saliva still connecting your lips with his member as you whipped the tears that had formed in your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He gave you a small smile, as you licked the last remains of his sperm from his tip. 

“It’s ok.” You said looking up at him. 

“Shit. Don’t look at me like that.”

You smirked getting up.  “How’re you feelin’?”

“Better, but it’s not over yet.” He said looking down and realizing that he was still hard.

“Well, we can deal with it in other ways too.” You smiled innocently as you removed your towel from yourself, letting it hit the floor, revealing your naked form to him. 

He stared at you open-mouthed for a few seconds, before he removed his t-shirt, throwing it on the floor and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a heated kiss.

Your tongues swayed together in sync as the two of you started walking towards the bed, stopping when the back of your thighs hit the mattress and he gently pushed you on it, climbing on top of you. 

His lips moved to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses and small bites on your skin that set your body on fire. He obviously noticed that, and moved one of his hands to your right boob, playing with your nipple before his mouth started working on your left one. 

“Satoru” You whispered his name, so low that he wasn’t even sure if you had really said it, or if it was his imagination.

“Say that again.” He whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe at the same time as his left hand found your core, sliding one finger between your folds.

You repeated his name, this time loud enough for him to hear, making a proud smirk show up on his face. He slid his finger inside of you, feeling how wet you already were for him, making his member pulse against your thigh. 

“So wet already, baby.” 

You could hear the smirk in his voice as a small moan left your lips.

He moved a little, his eyes straight into yours as he asked: “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You replied, pulling him down for another lustful kiss.

You slowly felt him penetrating you, your tightness around him making the two of you moan at the same time. Gojo placed one of his hands on the wall behind the bed while the other gently grabbed on your waist as he started moving in and out of you. At the same time as you grabbed his arm with one of your hands.

“You said your brother is in the next room right?”

“Yeah…. Why?”

“I want him to hear us.” A devilish smirk forming on his lips.

“Are you crazy? He’s gonna kill you.” You widened your eyes.

“After tonight… I don’t fucking care. ‘Been waiting long enough to have you.” 

He leaned down, kissing you hungrily as he started moving faster and rougher, finding your G-spot and hitting it repeatedly, making a loud moan leave your lips. Gojo kept his moves, creating a steady yet fast pace in and out of you, making your moans grow increasingly high with each thrust of his. 

“Fuck…. Satoru.” You moaned.

“You can be louder than that, baby.” His voice was hoarse with desire.

He started applying more strength on his thrusts, the bed involuntarily moving along, its headboard repeatedly hitting against the wall, and if you weren’t so lost in your own pleasure, you’d be worried about Sukuna hearing, but now, you just couldn’t care less.

You circled your legs around his waist, making his thrusts deeper than ever, every moan of yours filling the entire room as everything seemed to grow hotter and hotter as the time passed by.

Just as you started to feel your walls clenching around Gojo, a loud bang at the door caught yours and his attention. 

“Y/n!” Sukuna’s voice caught your ears.

But at this point, you wouldn’t be able to stop, not even if you wanted to. 

Gojo seemed too entranced to care either, his mouth stuck on your collar bone, marking you in hickeys as you finally reached your climax, your vision getting blurred for a second as your legs started shaking and Gojo’s name left your lips louder than ever.

You soon felt his liquids filling you up as he kept thrusting, riding out both yours and his climaxes, before he collapsed on top of you, his head resting on your chest, as the two of you tried to catch your breaths. 

“Y/n!” You heard Sukuna again.

Gojo chuckled lightly against your skin, sending vibrations through your body, making a smile appear on your lips.

“How’s your friend doing now?” You asked, eying him.

He looked up at you, before looking down. “I think he might need some extra care.” He smiled, making a small laugh leave your throat. 

“Y/n open this fucking door!”

“Fuck off, Kuna!” You yelled back.

You heard him yelling some curses towards the door, as Gojo got up. For a second you thought he’d open the door, but he simply stopped near it and said loud enough for Sukuna to hear.

“I’m gonna keep her busy for some more hours, Ryomen! Go take some sleeping pills, or whatever.” 

A proud smile was on display on his face as he turned towards you. 

“Join me in a bath?” His smile slowly turning into a smirk. 

Reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated &lt;3

Masterlist

[piracytheorist]

What's your thoughts on the episode where that fake waiter 'poisoned' Yor, and Anya intimidated him into supposedly leaving the crime life? The stuff he thought and whatnot, as well as Anya in that scene? I'm so curious as to your thoughts

I think that Anya, honestly, has the time of her life making her fantasies come true and saving the world.

All kids dream of being superheroes and doing cool stuff. Courtesy of her mind-reading powers and girlbossing a spy and an assassin into adopting her, Anya can actually act on that stuff and go up against bad guys and overthrow plans for war, and I think, to her advantage, she's a little too young to understand the gravity of her situation. She stops a bomb, saves her father and many many innocent civilians, practically putting an end to an effort to reignite a war that ended before she was even born... and then she goes back home with a bright smile like "Hero Anya has saved the day!"

And I think something similar happened in this scene. She faced a professional criminal, created a bomb that he was going to create, even put her signature on it by adding peanuts, actually hurt him, and then warned him with knowledge of his personal life. And all without breaking a sweat.

Honestly, the sight of a terrorist kid who knows all your secrets and works for the assassin you were just trying to kill sounds like enough of a terrifying concept, enough to turn you away from a life of even professional crime. I mean, the guy already was thinking of giving up on that life, for the sake of his girlfriend and believing that it was a miracle he'd survived the Thorn Princess' massacre. It was just the immediate sight of her in his cover job that made him think it was his fallen comrades asking him for revenge. And he tries that with a poison, Yor shakes it off because she's a tank, and he goes for a last ditch effort with the bomb, but then a fucking kid creates that same bomb before him and lets him take the blast. And then tells him about his own secrets. He realizes he's out of his depth, he's being given a second (third?) chance, and decides the life of a criminal is over for him.

Honestly, I think it's fucking hilarious. Spy x Family manages to have an excellent amount of unhinged humor that somehow makes sense. Anya wasn't playing around. She literally made a bomb and exposed the man's secrets. It was enough to scare him off any attempt at continuing this life or his effort for revenge. And as weird as it is, it actually sounds pretty reasonable. Again, I'm not sure Anya grasps the full weight of her actions - she probably thinks that she scared him off because she was Cool™ and all that, when in fact it was because it's pretty scary to have a child bomb you and expose your secrets - but in a story with spies and assassins, I don't find it all that weird. It just adds to the unhinged humor of it all.

Cause yeah, despite how unhinged it all is, Spy x Family somehow touches reality in a very... "secure" way. I don't know if that's the right word to use, lol. It's just that even when characters have extreme reactions, it's always on something you can understand and maybe even sympathize with. Even when we're dealing with criminals such as that guy, it's always focused on humanity and a deep understanding of reality... but also in a very malleable way. Like, who would have thought this was the way to discourage the way from a life of crime forever? Tatsuya Endo, that's who.

(Anime only fan here, don't spoil me for the manga)

[saradika]

— if you send for me, you know I'll come

[series masterlist]

din djarin x f!reader

rated E - 4.5k

Tags: protective!neighbor!din, canon-typical violence, Nevarro is attacked, pirate invasion, death of pirates, angst, brief hostage situation, established relationship, outercourse, multiple orgasms, PiV

A/N: mini-sequel to only if for a night (but also can be read as a one-shot!) Spoilers for 03.05 - absolutely cheering over “I decided to take you up on your offer for a tract of land” and wanted to explore that

The blasts rain down. Turning parts of your beloved city into crumbling stone and smoking ash. A cry of distress sent to the New Republic. A whisper throughout the crowd saying that help isn't coming. That this time, Nevarro is on it's own.

But you're sure of one thing. Hang onto that hope like a lifeline, as you send out a small message of you own.

Knowing that Din Djarin will come for you.

That he will find a way.

The Corsair hangs heavy, overhead.

Appearing suddenly, a dark splash against the sunny, blue skies. A weight in your limbs, an uneasiness creeping up your spine as the hail comes in.

Stuck frozen in place, as you watch the face of the Pirate King - Gorian Shard - appear on the holo. Filling the room with his dripping visage.

Ushered quickly off to the side, as the two engineers make a hasty exit - though you don't remember moving. Listening to the sharp back-and-forth.

“Believe your ears then, and don't mistake my hospitality for weakness."

“The Spinward patrol passes through here regularly."

Karga holds his ground against the threats that fire down. Shard coming back for his revenge, for the pirates killed in the streets of Nevarro all those weeks before.

A day you remember well. The day he had come back into your life.

And for a second you feel safe - until you see that confident veneer chip. That hesitance in Karga's voice, in his words, as Shard calls his bluff.

The blasts that start to rain down, after.

That uneasiness morphing into pure dread. A matching fear that flashes in both your eyes, as the call ends, and the droid enters the room.

"High Magistrate, the escape pod is ready." It chirps. Voice friendly, in spite of the dire situation, "I will lead you to the launch site."

"I won't abandon my city," Karga shakes his head, turning your way, "You take it. Get to safety."

And in spite of your complaints before - those told in confidence to Din, about how your boss was too much, too extravagant, too Karga - you can't bear it. Not when you see how he puts the people first, instead of running.

You shake your own head. Words coming shakily, but you mean every one, "I'm with you. What can I do?"

"We have to get the people to safety. Send out a directive immediately." He barks out, and you're nodding. The command giving you something to do - unsticking your feet.

Raising the alarm.

Following him into the streets.

———

Your fingers key in the codes for the message - the cry for help. The recording Karga quickly made in his office after the evacuation had begin - his one shot before the building began to shake with the force of the blasts.

A message for Captain Teva, of the New Republic.

You had wanted to protest. Had tried to - arguing that there were others that could help.

"He's one man. He might not even come." Karga had snapped back. His patience thin - each second that passed meant another part of the city crumbled, "We'll have a better shot at surviving this if we reach out to someone with numbers."

You flinched at his tone, at the insinuation. The words from the message replaying in your head.

"The situation is dire."

"I'm afraid that our planet will fall."

His voice softened when he saw your expression, "We don't have time for another message. Send it."

Part of you had wanted to argue.

That Din would come, for you. If he knew you were in danger.

He'd save all of you.

He'd find a way.

Instead, you bit the words back. Focusing on the comm code that Karga had rattled off. The crushing bands still wrapped tightly around your chest as the message is sent, firing off with a sharp click.

Sending your own after, with a small wish - breathed out into the stars. These numbers long-since memorized, fingers flying over the keys. The briefest of messages, but you hope he'll understand.

Din. It’s the Pirates. If you get this, we could really use your help.

Please.

There's the boom of another blast, the floor rattling beneath your feet.

And then, you're running.

Retreating to the lava flats, with the rest of the city.

———

Dirt clings to your tunic. Clay dusting your side, your shoulder - from when you shielded a neighbor from a blast, tugging them down the alley.

No time to do anything more than get out. Following the waves out people out of the city limits. Watching as months and years of growth and progress and green crumble. Sending you into the wastes, once more.

Feet aching by the time you stop - shivering now, in the evening chill. The dark sky above illuminated with the golden and red flickering of a fire, tearing through the western edge of town. Sending up billowing smoke, blocking out the stars.

A grief that surrounds you, in the dark. A selfish ache in the way that you mourn for you home. The happiness you had built. Promising to look after his, after that night you spent together.

Having to face that you weren't able to. That there might be nothing left.

The thought follows you, seeping into your bones. Weighing you down, as you huddle in small groups. Fires dotting the lava flats, flickering in the wind. Shifting against the ground as you try to get comfortable - finding it near impossible.

Drifting off, when your eyes get too heavy to stay open. Even with the ridges of rock digging into your side, an arm tucked under your head.

You call to him in your sleep. Drifting off to the memories, on repeat for comfort. Replaying the messages you've exchanged, since he left.

Hoping you'll get the chance to see him. Even if it's just one last time.

Even if it's just in your dreams.

———

The Corsair lingers. Pirates deployed in waves, pillaging and looting. Those who stayed inside, those who refused to leave, were at their mercy. Turned into captives or pushed around. Forced to smile and serve food and drink as a blaster points at their guts.

Not daring to refuse.

There's not enough weapons left among you to fight back. Not thinking to arm yourself - all thought focused on getting out. Leaving you vulnerable - stranded on the dark field of igneous rock.

There's whispers of surrender. Looks thrown Karga's way, as he stands firm.

Still a beacon, in spite of the hardship.

But you stay firm, as well. You know hope will come.

You believe in him.

The hours pass and the pit in your stomach grows. A man breaks away, a hurried plan to sneak into the town. To try to gather those inside, to see if he can grab weapons.

He doesn't come back.

Instead of gunfire there's shouting now. Harsh laughter that filters through the whipping wind. Trails of smoke still rising up to the sky, where the ship still hangs - waiting.

Waiting for Karga's hail of surrender.

Waiting for the city to fall.

———

A cry breaks through the stilted silence. Everyone muted with worry - no longer speculating.

The pointing of fingers, as something streaks against the sky.

A glint of silver, shining like Beskar.

You know that ship. Have seen it, in the space between your house and his.

A leaping in your heart and a wetness on your cheeks that you don't even realize - as your shouts are among the first to rise.

Cheering, for the help that has come.

Watching as a larger ship joins his - as it opens, spilling figures with jetpacks into the air.

Karga smiles, as he meets your eyes. Relief in them, as he raises his comm.

"Thanks for your help, Mando." There's fondness in his tone.

You can't stop grinning, as the voice you know so well crackles back, "Heard you might need a hand."

"Be careful, my friend." He smiles, before growing serious, "They've got you outnumbered ten to one."

There's an edge to Din's voice then, the words low and smooth, “I like those odds."

Karga chuckles, reminiscing, "I bet you do."

There's a beat of silence, and then a final request.

“Karga. Keep her safe, for me."

His eyes find yours. Knowing who Din means - your heart flipping at the words.

A knowing smile, as he answers.

"You know I will."

The comm clicks off, but the heat that rises in your chest and face lingers. Hiding the smile as your face turns towards the sun.

Watching with the others as the two ships dart around in the sky. The sounds of blasters layering over each other from within the city.

The bright flash of red and gold as a hit is landed on the Corsair, the handful of snubfighters in the sky quickly dwindling.

Whispers of hope race through the groups of people around you. Steps as they start to head towards the city, as the pirates are picked off.

A groan, as the turrets above shift. A spray landing a kilometer away, but each round moving closer. Spending up dirt and rock and the dread is flooding though you again as it quickly approaches.

“They’re targeting us!” A cry goes up, as that bit of hope wavers.

The groups scattering, splitting apart as they back up.

Your eyes stay on the sky. Watching as the two smaller ships team up - and fire.

The blaze of fire and smoke as the Corsair tilts, and then plummets. An achingly slow descent, as the front tips down, colliding loudly with the rocky ground. Crumpling into broken metal, and the explosion that fills the sky is so bright that it hurts your eyes.

The Pirate King, defeated.

The cries around you change. Fear turning swiftly into joy. Voices blending and mixing until it’s just a drawn out, repeated chant.

“It's gonna be okay!”

———

You’re among the first to breach the far border of the city. The remaining pirates gathered in surrender, weapons thrown upon the ground.

The Mandalorians chasing them from the bowels of the city, intent on seeing things through.

But not everyone among the remaining decide to go so easily. Something moves at the corner of your vision, as you pass by the crumbling house.

Something tall and broad - turning just in time to see the mottled yellow skin of the Quarren as he lunges your way.

Fingers twist around you, hard and cold. Your breath in your throat as the barrel presses against your chin - using you like a human shield.

Another pair, their skin in matching shades of crimson, grab the older woman and the young man next to you. Mimicking their leader, guns clicking in their hands.

A forced negotiation.

Ice creeps into your veins - fearing that this is the end, when you were so close to salvation. Eyes wide as you look towards Din.

How he turns at the gasp that skitters through the crowd. The briefest second - when he sees you.

The twitch of his hand, as he stalks forward. A blaster raised so quickly you can barely blink before something hot and bright is shooting past your cheek.

Downing the pirate that’s holding you captive with a single shot.

Whistling birds from the Mandalorian at his side taking out the other two in an instant.

You’re in his arms a moment later. The beskar cool against your cheek as he pulls you to him. Crushing you against his chest, before he’s pulling back.

The swivel of his helmet as he looks - paying an abandoned storefront just off to the side. Hauling you with him as the Mandalorians round up the rest of the Pirates, as they finally surrender.

You can feel the few eyes that follow you - the weight of their gaze. But in this moment, you can’t bring yourself to care.

He’s ripping the gloves off - bare hands coming to cup your face the moment you’re inside. As if unable to help touching you himself, not wanting any layers as he tilts your face up to his so he can see you.

A slow drift of his helmet as he checks you over.

“Are you hurt?” Din rasps, “Are you alright, cyar’ika?”

The meaning of that word is still unknown, but there’s such an affection in the way he says it. Carefully, earnestly, and it has you nodding.

“I’m fine.” You croak, your hand coming to rest on his. Pressing it against your cheek, leaning into it.

Some of the stiffness in his posture wanes. Your back pressing against the wall as he crowds you, as relief crashes through him.

Staring up at him - feeling the rush of emotion. Making your words soft, no more than a whisper.

“You came.”

His own voice rough, “Of course I did. I always will.”

You smile then, at that.

Sweet and soft, just for him.

“I knew you would. I just knew.”

At your words - the adoring look you give him - his hand is raising. Traveling to his helmet. Lifting the edge, where you can just see the briefest glimpse of tan skin, the scruff of his beard.

Before your eyes are snapping shut, and his lips are pressing to yours.

And oh, how you remember them.

Your fingers curling in his cowl as you cling to him. The moan sliding from your throat as he leans into you, his other hand gripping almost painfully at your waist.

Desperate.

That’s how you feel. Like you can’t get enough, as you curve yourself against his chest. Lips parting when his tongue brushes against the seam, letting him deepen it.

Leaving you panting and breathless when he finally pulls back. Fingers searching for more, tangling in the belt around his waist as his hips rock against yours.

“You’re safe now.”

You hum in distracted agreement, something much more welcome than panic thrumming in your veins.

He’s there with you, hand roaming - fingers dipping under the hem of your tunic. Bunching it up until he can brush the bare skin at your waist. A thigh nudging between yours, your own face reflected back in the shining visor.

Eyes half-lidden, with kiss-swollen lips.

“Din.” You whine, and he groans.

Hips rolling slowly against yours, just as the sound of his name echos.

Lower, this time. Modulated, like his.

The fingers slide from your shirt, but he stays close - twisting so he’s half-blocking you from sight.

From the sight of the Mandalorian that fills the doorway - tall and broad in his painted, blue armor. A cock of his head, as his arms cross over a thick chest.

“You did not tell us you took a riduur during your stay,” Amusement tinging his words, even through the helmet, “No wonder you were in such a rush to return.”

Another word to figure out - as Din’s posture stiffens, shifting closer to you. His hands on the wall, keeping you tucked carefully between them.

“What do you want?” He asks, not bothering to hide his own annoyance.

“Your friend, the Grand Magistrate, is requesting our presence.” There’s the low rumble of a laugh, “Or should I tell him you’re too busy?”

“We’ll be right there, Vizsla.”

It’s a dismissal, and the other Mandalorian takes it. Leaving the two of alone for a moment to make some swift adjustments.

The heat lingering in your cheeks, at getting caught. Grateful that the visitor wasn’t a few minutes later - certain that sight would have been a lot more than he bargained for.

A gloved hand is wrapped in yours, as you head back into the light.

Where Karga is waiting, ready to thank them. A generous gift offered - the land from the western lava flats to Bulloch Canyon, ceded to the Mandalorians.

His smile bright, as he tells them, “You may no longer have a home planet, but you do now have a home.”

———

That edge is tempered, now that Din knows you’re alright. But there’s a part that still lingers as he’s surrounded by his kin, his words clipped and short.

Stuck helping with negotiations - getting the ships moved to the landing pads, instead of hastily exited.

Unhappily separated, as you’re pulled into your own work. The city littered with debris and broken buildings. Bodies and smoldering fires.

Better to stay outside for one more night - to begin together, at dawn.

The best warriors sent in just to grab supplies. Coming back with materials to set up small camps, tents.

You work on your own, cozy enough for two. Not needing much more space, after hearing that Grogu would be staying safe with the other foundlings. Finding a spot to the edge of the camp of the Mandalorians, hoping Din will be able to find you.

Exhaustion tugging at you as you curl in the bedding, determined to wait up for him. That dull thrumming persisting between your thighs, even now.

Anticipating his return.

But the soft glow that the fire casts on the canvas starts to tug you under. Hazy with sleep when his voice finally comes, the sky an inky indigo above.

The soft call of your name.

A body lowering next to yours. Curling behind you, and you’re so relieved and content that you don’t mind the cold bite of the beskar against the thin fabric of your top.

A stiffness lingers in the way he holds you. As you’re unable to help arching back, his breath crackling harshly through the vocoder as your ass presses against him.

An arm, wrapping around you - his hand splaying across your stomach when you do it again. The thrust of his hips as he meets you this time, grinding himself against you.

“I need you.”

His words - low and rough - make you clench.

Rocking against him with more intent, as his bare hands begin to roam, like before. Rucking up your shirt so he can touch bare skin.

“I thought I would be too late.”

He can say it now, when it’s dark.

When it’s just the two of you.

Those worries finally breaking through the armor, spilling out from the cracks. Extracted, by the feeling of your body against his.

Letting himself breath for the first time in hours. An urge to feel every inch of you, to make sure you are truly okay. Wanting to make you forget, with the only way he knows how.

“You have me.” You tell him, catching his hand - dragging it up to your mouth. Pressing a kiss against the calloused knuckles, fingers warm in yours, “I believed in you.”

It feels silly now, that you ever doubted. Even for the brief second.

His groan is low, the edge of the helmet biting into your shoulder. Hand pulling free so he can grasp at the edge of your leggings - your hips rising so he can push them down.

Leaving them twisted around your thighs as his hand follows, dipping between them. Cupping you, where you’re molten. Aching, from that moment when he kissed you - replaying it over and over in the tent while you waited.

The tips of his fingers finding where you’re slick - rubbing tight circles, like he did in the springs. Each pass sends a little jolt down your spine, a flicker of pleasure in your brain.

Your breath short and sharp as you flex into his touch - a low whine when he pulls away to free himself. Feeling the heavy, velvety curve as it nudges against your ass. Damp fingers smearing your slick across a thigh as he lifts it.

Fitting his length between them, pressing it snug against your wet pussy. Petting at your clit again, as he thrusts.

Fingers focused - no teasing tonight. Gliding over the senstive bud as he grinds against you, fucking your thighs with his swollen cock. The ridge pressing against your folds as his hips roll, adding to your mounting pleasure.

Each pass brings you higher.

Each slide of his hips coming easier, as your arousal slicks up his cock. Dragging against you - making you want to just tilt your hips, so during the next pass, he’ll nudge inside.

Instead, your fingers drift beneath your shirt. Teasing your breast as the other hand makes a fist around the tip of his cock, a gentle pressure when his hips press flush against yours.

His groan joins yours, his pace stuttering.

That low voice coming out ragged, as your thighs tighten around him, “Come on my fingers, and you can have it.”

It has you clenching around nothing, a jerk of your hips into his touch.

“Please,” you moan, the familiar heat pooling in your belly. Winding with each swipe, as he presses just a little bit harder.

“Know you can,” He breathes, “Know you’re close.”

And you are - muscles tight as your focus narrows down to just his fingers. The heavy drag of his cock, so wet as it drags across sensitive skin.

The arm he has tucked under his head shoves beneath you, pressing between your breasts as he holds you tightly against him.

His breath ragged, loud through his helmet - only adding to the sensations that flood you. You own breath trapped in your chest, as everything strings tight.

Each gasping “oh” sending you higher. So close that your eyes screw shut - and when his cock catches against your entrance again, your fingers move.

A hitch of your hips as you guide the tip inside - Din’s moan filthy in your ear.

You come, as he’s pressing into you. Each shallow snap of his hips sinks him deeper, giving you something to clench around as you cry out his name.

A low groan that sounds close to a snarl, as he feels you. Hears your voice break on his name, pride flooding through him.

Not caring that someone else might hear.

Not this time.

Not when you’re pulsing around him, hot and wet and warm. Stiff in his arms as the spark flickers down your limbs, as you senselessly grind back against him.

Riding out the waves - until the fire that floods through you cools down to an ember, warm and low in your belly.

He pulls back, then - your moan pitiful as he leaves you empty. Urging you onto your stomach, as his weight presses against your back.

A sloppy thrust of his hips sends his cock against the curve of your ass, your thighs, before he finds you again.

Entering you with a long, slow thrust - punching the air from your lungs. His chest pressed against your back, braced on his forearms as his shoulder curl around yours.

Helmet biting into your shoulder as he pulls half-out, only to bury himself again.

“Fuck, mesh’la,” He groans, the words drawn out. You can only moan in response, as he splits you open, “So fucking perfect. My sweet girl.”

It’s needy, desperate. Clothes pushed to the side as needed, your legs pressed between his knees. His armor solid when it presses against you, the tent filling with the creak of the leather straps, the smack of skin on skin as he fills you.

Laid out, underneath him, fingers curling into the blankets as he pulls each soft sound from you.

Your thighs still bound by your leggings, making him feel even bigger, deeper, than last time. A little wiggle of your hips as you try to meet his thrusts, moaning against the bedding.

Half-finding your voice, panting the words out, “Feels so good. Gods, I missed you-“

His response a rough hum of agreement - nearly past words with his need. Managing a gritted out, “missed you, too” as his hips snap against yours.

Grinding himself deep, his cock dragging against your walls. Bumping that spongey spot that makes you see stars, over and over.

Until you can’t resist - until you’re shoving an arm between your stomach and the bedding. Reaching desperately between your thighs.

Fingers touching down on soaked skin, splitting around where he’s buried in you. Feeling the slide of his shaft, as his weight presses into just a little more.

It’s bliss, as your fingertips circle your clit. The heavy weight of him - the deep, pounding thrusts.

Din’s voice, so low in your ear. An edge that drives you wild, “I’m, fuck-”

He shifts, just barely slowing, “Want you to come with me. Can you do that?”

If he keeps it up, you know you can. Sending his cock against that spot, paired with the stroke of your fingers.

“Yes,” You manage, “So close-”

His reply is groaned out, a tremor in the way he holds himself. Losing that steady rhythm as your hips tilt, as he sinks just a tiny bit deeper. Listening to the way your breath changes - faster, higher.

Until his arm is shifting, the twist of his wrist as he reaches for your free one. Fingers entwining in yours, as your own vision starts to go hazy.

“Cyare, I can’t-” The words sound frustrated, but he can stop the rutting of his hips - so close to his own release. Trying to draw it out for you. Unable to hold back, as he feels you spread out beneath him.

“Wanna feel you,” You beg him, “Please, Din-”

Fingers circling quickly, feeling yourself tighten up again. His thrusts rough now, breath loud as he falls to the sound of your begging.

A pretty, drawn-out groan as he presses himself deep. Your name, mixed in with his breath as his cock throbs. Shallow thrusts with each pulse that ripples through him, as he empties himself.

It sends you over. Full of him as you come, milking him dry as your thighs clench. Shattering with white-hot pleasure, as he holds you - everything else seeming to fade, to grow soft and hazy.

Taking you a second to realize the strangled moans are yours, mixing with his soft, soothing praises.

Staying pressed together until your breathing returns to normal. Until he’s carefully sliding from you, and you’re doing your best to clean up, dripping and sticky with him.

Finding each other again after, in the darkness of the tent. Not wanting to be apart - not after today.

It feels like a weight been carved out of you. Leaving you hollow, in the darkness. Pressed up against him, though for the first time in days - you can breathe.

A comfort in the tents that surround you. The warmth of the fires, the city now silent.

“I don’t know what waits for us inside.” Your words are whispered out into the night. Guilt still gnaws at you, as you remember your promise, “I am so sorry that I couldn’t protect our home.”

“You did the right thing. That man’s cruelty is not your fault.” A palm strokes down your arm, your cheek pressed against his bare chest. Feeling the rumble of his words as they comfort you.

“If anything, it is mine.”

It has your head tilting up, chin pressing into this skin. Frowning, as you repeat his words back to him, “His cruelty is not your fault either. I heard what Karga said. They shot first. They chose to return.”

He makes a sound of uncertainty, as silence settles. A long moment passing, before you’re unable to help asking. Clarifying.

"Are you really going to stay, this time?"

The hand moves to your back then, pulling you closer. Tucking you further against him, until your nose is brushing the warm skin of his neck. Filling your senses with him - his voice, the warm, familiar scent of leather and metal and him.

"Yes, cyare." He soothes, "We'll stay. And if anything has happened to our home… we'll rebuild."

And you can hear the smile in his voice then, the word home. Because it was before, and it still is, now.

A finality in the way he says it. His own comfort in knowing that you're safe. In knowing that his culture will flourish here - that the children of the covert will feel what it is to play in the sunlight, once again.

“Together."

But if you send for me, you know I'll come

And if you call for me, you know I'll run

I'll run to you, I'll run to you

I'll run, run, run

(Mando’a: mesh’la - beautiful / cyare & cyar’ika - sweetheart / riduur - spouse)

[servenna]

(Art by @dayeongi)

Chapters: 1/13 Fandom: Naruto (Anime & Manga) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari Characters: Nara Shikamaru, Temari (Naruto), Asuma, Yashamaru (Naruto), Kankurou (Naruto), Kakuzu (Naruto), Deidara (Naruto), Tayuya (Naruto), Hidan (Naruto), Sasori (Naruto), Hoshigaki Kisame, Yamanaka Ino, Sai (Naruto), Uzumaki Naruto, Inuzuka Kiba, Baki (Naruto) Additional Tags: AU — Special Unit/Drug Cartel, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Drama, Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, BAMF Temari (Naruto), BAMF Nara Shikamaru, Torture, dislike to love, Undercover as Married, Sex & Blood & Love & Drama, forearms, Long read but worth it Summary:

Once, Temari had put her faith in him and got her trust handed back to her in shatters. But now, the need for revenge demands once again to follow the man who had snatched a peek too many behind her facade.

He had a chance to prove himself and failed — spectacularly nonetheless. 3 years later, Shikamaru is presented with another opportunity to not only right a wrong but also to redeem himself in the eyes of the one woman that he can’t ban from his thoughts. Now the only thing he has to do is bust a drug cartel on the go and provide retribution for the murder of two of their loved ones, while keeping their cover as a devoted couple protected. Sounds like a typical weekend plan for a leading agent of the Anti-Narcotic-Bust-Unit.

@sillysnowden11 thank you, for dusting off my wittered soul and reawakening creativity in me❤️. How we spiraled both our ideas (which were damn good) into something even bigger (which became epic😂) is still unbelieveable to me. 

@shikatemamonth24 have a blast. Next chapter coming tomorrow. 

[bossbtch1]

HI! I just wanna say I lovee ur stories, but I was wondering if you could do a Loki x reader shadow play smut, with content.

I loved the other one u did... but I'm a sucker for smut 😭😌

Hey there! So, in the previous story, there's smut involved (dark story). But maybe the shadow play in the last scene isn't cutting it. No worries, here's another scenario for you! Thanks for the request, it's been a blast to write. It's weirdly amusing, I don't know why, but I hope you enjoy it! 😄

Summary : Loki sought revenge after you left him in prison, tormenting you with shadows and magic. Strangely, you found yourself caught between arousal and fear, oblivious to the fact that it was him all along.

Pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

General tags : SMUT, 18+, Dark Fic

Trigger Warnings: Masturbating, Fingering, Dubious Consent, Magic

Words : 3.2k (shortest fic I've ever written lol)

A/N : Well, that shadow scene had us all on a chokehold, and, of course, I couldn't resist writing another one for it. Thank you @holabicth for the request once again!

The door closed behind Loki with a quiet thud. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Loki said, stepping towards the cell that was holding you. "A little mortal, lost in a big, bad world."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, not bothering to move from where you were sitting, cross-legged, against the wall. "You're one to talk." You retorted, raising an eyebrow at him. "Considering you're in the exact same predicament."

"Am I now?" Loki asked, raising his own eyebrow in response. He took another step closer to your cell, looking down at you. You were still sitting there, looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. "Because it seems to me, that if I wanted to, I could easily just-" Loki paused as he suddenly appeared inside of your cell, standing in front of you. "Leave."

You rolled your eyes again. "Yeah, yeah. Big deal. You can teleport. Congrats." You muttered, moving to stand up.

Loki put his foot out and kicked your shoulder, forcing you to stay sitting on the floor. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" Loki asked, bending over slightly to look at you.

You turned your head to the side to glare up at him, and then brought your fist forward to hit him right in the groin. Loki gasped, taking a step back, and then groaned in pain, leaning forward slightly. You were surprised he didn’t see that coming or it was really him instead of some kind of projection.

"Yeah, I said you're a fucking dickhead." You snapped, using the wall to help you stand. Loki groaned in response, still doubled over in pain. You walked around him and stepped out of the cell, turning around to face him. "Have fun rotting away in there." You smirked, waving at him as the cell's walls started to close in around him.

Loki's head shot up as the walls moved closer. "No! Wait!" He shouted, but it was too late. The walls closed in on him, making him press up against the glass.

You sighed and shook your head, turning around to head for the elevator. "Y/N!" Loki shouted, his voice slightly muffled by the cell walls. "You can't leave me like this!"

"And why not?" You asked, not even bothering to turn around. You reached the elevator and stepped inside, pushing the button for the lobby.

"Because, if you leave me here, I'll die!" Loki shouted, his hands and face pressing against the glass.

"And why should that concern me?" You asked, pausing the doors from closing.

Loki groaned and banged on the glass, "You will pay for this!"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "Bye! Have fun rotting away, dickhead!" With an almost nonchalant wave, you watched as the elevator doors slowly closed, leaving him alone in the dimly lit cell.

The dull hum of the descending elevator mingled with Loki's muffled protests, creating a haunting symphony of abandonment as you left him behind.

You were heading towards the door, ready to get out of this place, when you stopped. 'Should I really just leave him here?' You thought to yourself, sighing as you turned around. 'Oh, fuck it. Might as well make the most of this.'

Years after what happened you managed to escape from that prison, you were a free woman and no one could hold you back, even though they were trying. You had your freedom, and no one could take it away. You moved to a new country, changed your identity to make you unrecognizable and it worked. No one had recognized you.

Life was good, and started your life anew, forgetting all about your past. You were finally happy, and everything was going great.

But it felt surreal, you still could feel his hands on your body. You were starting to panic, wondering what was happening, you couldn't understand it. You didn't drink tonight, and you were sure you were sober when you went to bed, so this didn't make any sense.

One night when you were sleeping, you were dreaming of making out with a guy, his face was blurry so you didn't know who it was. His hands were touching all the right places, and you were getting into the moment, his lips felt amazing against yours. But then he was kissing your neck and you realized you could feel everything, the warmth of his tongue, the roughness of his stubble, the tickle of his breath.

His hand moved lower to your collarbone and down to your breast, and you were enjoying it. The guy seemed to know what he was doing, when suddenly, he squeezed a little harder, causing you to moan in surprise. It felt so real, that you were starting to think that you weren't dreaming, and that someone was in your room, touching you.

"Do you like that, Y/N?" The guy whispered and bit your earlobe making you shiver.

That made your eyes shot open and you sat up in shock. Looking around, you saw no one there. Your room was pitch black, except for a small ray of light coming from under the door. You must have been dreaming. But it felt so real. "Did I dream it or someone is really here?" You wondered, but couldn't find anything.

You looked down and saw that you were sweating and you could see your hardened nipples poking through your tank top. You saw your tank top was ridden up just like the guy did in your dream.

You pulled your shirt back down, and laid down again. The whole time you couldn't shake the feeling that someone was touching you. It felt surreal, you still could feel his hands on your body. You were starting to panic, wondering what was happening, you couldn't understand it. You didn't drink tonight, and you were sure you were sober when you went to bed, so this didn't make any sense.

Even though, you were panicking, your mind drifted to the man in your dream. How he knew your name, and how hot he sounded. You didn't understand how a dream could be so vivid and detailed.

You were getting turned on, the feeling of his lips on yours, and the way his hands were on your body. You didn't even know who this guy was, and you were already starting to masturbate. you felt embarrassed thinking about what you were dreaming about, and how wet you were. You didn't even know what time it was, but you felt like you needed to take care of yourself before you went back to sleep.

You started to slide your hands up and down your body, the feeling of his lips and stubble still lingering on your neck. You were so wet, the only thing that could satisfy right now was your fingers.

"Mmmm..." You moaned, as you imagined his face looking down at you, while his hands were touching you.

You were close to an orgasm, and you felt like you were going crazy. The pleasure felt unreal.

"Ohhhh... fuck," You whispered as you came.

You laid there for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath. You felt exhausted, but you couldn’t go back to sleep. You felt weird and confused, wondering what the hell was wrong with you. You shrugged it off, maybe it was nothing, and just got up from the bed, ready to start the day.

You didn't realize that this was only the beginning of the things that will happen, and that everything was only getting started.

"What a fucking asshole!" You grumbled angrily, kicking a trashcan, which sent the garbage flying. It didn't help that a group of kids were watching you and laughing at your anger.

"What did the trashcan ever do to you?" One kid asked, his friends giggling in the background. You turned your glare towards them, and the kids stopped laughing. They slowly backed away and ran off, not wanting to face your wrath.

You sighed and shook your head, turning back to the sidewalk. You were supposed to be at work, but you were late and had a pretty good excuse, a.k.a. the fact that some asshole had decided to break into your house and steal your car.

"Stupid car. Stupid, fucking asshole." You muttered, continuing to walk down the street. "Stupid, stupid, stupid..." You groaned and shook your head, running your hands through your hair.

You stopped and looked at the building across the street. 'Maybe I can call someone to pick me up? Like my parents?' You thought to yourself, shaking your head and laughing. "They probably won't answer anyway. Because I’m dead to them.’ You muttered, sighing as you crossed the street, heading for the building.

At work, you were still mad about your car being stolen, and were wondering how long it would take for the police to notice and return it to you. You couldn’t focus on your job. "Y/N, get back to work!" Mr. D's stern voice cut through your thoughts, and you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the cereal box in your hands. Sighing heavily, you nodded in acknowledgment.

"Sorry, Mr. D. Won't happen again," you mumbled, mustering a forced smile.

It had been couple of days since your car got stolen and you hadn’t received any information from the police, making you taking the bus from getting and going off from work. You were always late because of the traffic and your boss wasn't happy that you were late, and even threatened to fire you if you were late again. It wasn't your fault though, but no one would listen. You were pissed off and wanted to punch someone.

Days had passed since the incident, and the absence of any information from the police gnawed at your patience. Forced to rely on buses to commute, you found yourself consistently late due to the unpredictability of traffic. Your boss, oblivious to your tardiness, had threatened to fire you if you were late again.

It wasn't your fault, you were a victim of circumstances beyond your control. The injustice of it all made your blood boil, and the temptation to vent your frustration physically lingered at the edges of your consciousness. Yet, you held back, knowing that punching someone wouldn't solve anything.

As you continued stacking cans on the shelves, the rhythm of your movements betrayed the underlying tension. Each clink of metal against metal mirrored the ticking clock, a constant reminder of the stolen moments and the stolen car that dangled over your daily existence.

Suddenly, you slammed a can onto the shelf, drawing the attention of everyone around. Some flinched, eyes turning towards you. "Sorry, sorry. Just having a rough day. No need to look at me like that." you apologized, and the customers resumed their activities.

Your daily routine had become a struggle since the loss of your car. Apologies became a routine, just like the late hours you now kept. Affording a new vehicle was out of the question. The bus stop was distant from your apartment, pushing you to discover a shortcut through a creepy alley a couple of days ago. You didn't trust the alley, but you had no choice, you a quicker route home.

So, there you were, standing outside the alley, contemplating if it was a good idea or not. It was scary and dark, and you didn't know what was in there. You gulped and stepped into the alley, deciding to just suck it up and go through. You didn't want to walk all the way to your apartment building, and this was faster.

"Fuck it" you muttered to yourself, you prepared taser gun and pepper spray, and slowly walked into the alley. You were tense, and felt your heart beat faster, but you told yourself that everything would be alright. The alley wasn't very long, so you were relieved, but that feeling quickly left when you heard a sound behind you.

Turning around, you saw only homeless people, nothing out of the ordinary. "Probably just rats or something," you thought, attempting to calm your nerves. The rest of the walk remained uneventful. As you exited the alley, you sighed in relief, continuing your journey towards the apartment building.

You walked through that alley a couple more times since that day, and nothing unusual ever happened, but today, you felt as if someone was watching you, so you decided to look behind you.

But no one was in sight, not even the homeless people. You found it a bit odd but decided to ignore it and focusing on getting home. "Probably imagining it, it's nothing." You muttered to yourself, as you kept walking faster.  You clenched your taser gun tightly, ready to use it in case something did happen.

You heard footsteps approaching but when you turned around there was no one. You froze, your breath caught in your throat. You clenched your taser gun, the only weapon you had with you, and quickened your pace.

You heard it again, it sounded closer, but still far away. You slowly turned around, trying to keep calm, but you couldn't. The noise started again, this time closer, and louder. You spun around, holding the gun up and ready to fire. But no one was there.

Suddenly you were being pulled back and slammed into the wall behind you, and then you were being choked. Your eyes widened as you struggled against the grip, your hands pulling at the hand around your neck.

Your hands were suddenly being stretched apart, the gun falling out of your grip and clattering to the ground. Your legs flailed, your lungs desperate for air, but the hand stayed firm. No one was there, you didn't know what was happening. You were scared, no one was there, you didn’t know who or what attacked you.

Your vision started to fade, and everything was starting to get darker and darker. Right before everything faded away, the grip on your throat was released. You were coughing and gasping for air. You were still bound against the wall, not knowing what was going on. You looked around, and saw no one, no one except shadows on the wall.

"Who are you?" You asked, your voice hoarse from the lack of air. There was no response, and you felt like someone was there, but you didn't see anyone. "This isn't funny!" You spoke to whoever or something. You didn't believe in ghost, never did. You didn't think you were going crazy. You just assumed it was just your mind playing tricks on you, making you hallucinate.

"Show yourself!" You growled, trying to act tough. Still no response. "Fuck off. Leave me alone!" You grumbled, and kicked the wall behind you, but your legs hit nothing. Your brows furrowed, and you were confused. But you could feel something restraining you, and it was solid. You tried moving again, but the invisible force held you tightly.

As realization dawned, you discerned the silhouette of a shadow adorned with menacing horns that clung to you. "What the fuck!" you exclaimed.

"To make you mine." A deep voice spoke, echoing throughout the alley. You felt shivers down your spine, and fear creeped its way inside of you. You didn't understand what was happening. Your breathing was ragged, and you felt yourself become panicked.

Then you felt something caressing your legs as if a hand was slowly travelling up the length of them. You tried to struggle but the bounds held you tight, you were completely powerless. Your breath hitched when you felt fingers brush against the skin between your thighs and up.

Your legs were being forced open, "Ah! What are you doing!?" You shouted, not knowing what was happening as a finger slowly rubbed against your pussy.

"Stop!" You shouted, still struggling against the binds. But the thing didn't listen and was suddenly rubbed your clit, your hips involuntarily jerked at the sensation, and a small moan escaped your mouth.

"W-What is happening?" You whimpered, the fear mixed with pleasure was overwhelming. Your head fell back against the wall and a louder moan left your lips, you wanted to stop it, but you couldn't, and it felt too good.

You tried to focus on anything but the sensations, and you heard someone whisper something, but you couldn't understand what was being said. You tried to listen, but it was useless. The hand between your legs slipped into your panties and started to rub at your folds. The pleasure was too intense, and you cried out, your whole body trembling.

"Fuck." You breathed, and tried to control your breathing, but it was hard. Your whole body was shaking, and your mind was blank. You couldn't believe you were getting turned on by being assaulted by an unknown entity, but you were. "No! Stop it!" You struggled, the thing didn't stop.

You felt the shadow enter you as if a finger inserted itself into you, "Ah!" You moaned, you could feel the finger moving inside you, thrusting in and out of you. "N-no, stop."

The finger kept going in and out of you, then another joined it, making you moan and gasp. Your moans filled the empty alley, the sound of your moans echoed off the walls, but the pleasure you were feeling was great.

Then the fingers were removed, and then a hand was wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly. You gasped and tried to pull the hand away, but the hand was unmovable. The finger kept going in and out of you, then another joined it, making you moan and gasp.

Fuck, why did a shadow could make you feel so good? The fingers kept moving in and out of you and a third joined, stretching you further. You were feeling too good, too aroused. You didn't even try to get away from it anymore. You couldn't believe you were turned on by a ghost or whatever this shadow-like creature.

"Yes! Yes! Ah!" You moaned. Your body felt hot, really hot. Your heart was racing, pounding against your chest, it was a good thing that no one could see you like this, getting fingered by a ghost.

You moaned again as the fingers thrusting in and out of you increased in speed, they were going fast. You wanted to scream, shout, moan, but you were only able to do one of them. "Yes! Ah! YES!" You screamed as your climax neared, "F-faster! Fuck me faster! Make me come!"

The fingers kept moving in and out of your dripping entrance and they increased their pace, fucking you faster and faster, your screams were louder.

"Yes! I'm cumming!" You screamed and arched your back as your orgasm hit, your juices ran down to your thighs, the fingers slowed down, letting you ride out your orgasm.

Then the fingers were gone, the sensation disappeared. The shadow finally released its grip, and you collapsed to the ground. You were left there, breathing hard, and confused. “What the fuck was that?” You talked to yourself.

While still trying to make sense of what just happened, you noticed two feet in front of you. Looking up, your eyes met Loki's. Suddenly, he seized your hair, compelling you to stand. "You!" you hissed, but he remained silent, his grip tightening.

A smirk played on his lips, and his eyes glowed with an unsettling green hue. Frustration and anger welled up within you as you attempted to retaliate, yet his hand held you firmly. "All this time, it was you, wasn't it? You were the one who assaulted me while I was sleeping, weren’t you?" you spat, your glare fixed on him.

He offered no response, only a sinister smirk, and then everything went black.

[raayllum]

Re these prior musings / promises but speculation regarding the secret scene possibly being Claudia murdering Sir Sparklepuff got me wondering, so... let's talk about Rayla, Claudia, and symbolic to non symbolic notions of suicide.

Tw because this will mention / does talk about cannibalism, suicidal ideation, and suicide in passing. If you're not comfortable reading about those things in more detail but you still want the gist of this meta, scroll down to the TLDR that will have a couple sentence summary of the idea.

With that out of the way, let's get into it.

For a while now, I've been interested in the metaphorical mechanics regarding Rayla murdering Viren in 3x09. As we all know (even if Aaravos 'pretends' otherwise in 4x04), Rayla did successfully kill the man, retroactively achieving her earlier mission of killing a king of Katolis because he was responsible for both the death of the Dragon King and because he'd killed Zym (which Viren was in the process of doing).

However, Rayla kills Viren in the most Rayla-y of ways, as she does so without her assassin blades, while acting as the Last Dragonguard, and in a way that means killing Viren is not just an act of protection or revenge, but also something that meant sacrificing (killing) herself.

And this felt notable to me, since unlike either of the brothers, Rayla hasn't killed anyone else. Ezran would've burned people alive with dragon fire if not for immunity spell, and Callum blasted plenty of people off the side of the mountain and presumably to the Storm Spire. But Viren was the sole blood on Rayla's hands, even if the narrative has Claudia (and we'll get to her in a minute) resurrect him. Her one act of murder being something that also, as stated, required her to sacrifice her whole person, and is also in line with her assassin training: "I am already dead."

When Rayla rebuttals Ezran's assertion that "[You spared him] because you knew he was a person, just like you," you can read Rayla's assertion of "That shouldn't have mattered, I had a job to do," solely as her talking about the guard's personhood... but you can also read it, I think, as her dehumanizing her own personhood. She is a weapon and he is the target and that's all that should've mattered.

We can tether this thread all the way up to season four with Rayla's refusal to murder Callum, but put a pin in that, cause now I want to talk about Claudia.

Much like we can read Rayla's attempted dehumanization as twofold, I also think we can read Sir Sparklepuff's mimicry of Claudia as something with multiple layers. The first and likely most obvious one of course is that Sir Sparklepuff mimicking Claudia in earlier episodes is to setup later that he is her (magical, technical?) half-brother and one of Viren's children. Kind of like how we had Ezran and Zym mimicking each other in mid-S2 to set up their mental/emotional bond later that season.

And this implied connection likewise loops back around in the finale when Viren simultaneously refuses to sacrifice Sir Sparklepuff for his own survival while also lamenting that he's led (sacrificed?) his own daughter down a dark path (and perhaps regret that he sacrificed his son once, too).

Arc 2 has also ramped up Claudia's willingness to destroy herself further for the "good of her family" (and her own desires that often steamroll over theirs) in having her take on more and more animalistic forms when doing dark magic, blurring the lines between her de-personalization of magical creatures and also herself.

This reflects dark magic's cannibalism motif quite well, as Claudia carries on metaphorically cannibalizing her own body throughout most of s4 and especially s5: refusing to rest from Terry, using her own blood in spells, etc.

This all reinforces that while dehumanization was something Rayla struggled with for both her target(s) and to a lesser degree herself, it's something that Claudia has only continually excelled at. And we know, thanks to S4 with Rayla walking away from the drake in the woods ("We can't save everyone") that she's gotten better at it as well.

But what does this all have to do with symbolic suicide? Well...

If the secret scene is what a good deal of us have been speculating / that Claudia is covered in Sir Sparklepuff's blood in the teaser trailer, then: if Sir Sparklepuff is a stand in for Viren's innocent, made to be an asset, processing learned behaviour child - if he is a stand in for Claudia - then through killing him, Claudia is symbolically killing herself.

Now, there's no doubt in my mind that Claudia isn't viewing things that way, but we also know just how much she's willing to ruin herself for the people around her first hand, and how persistent that characterization has been: "Are you okay?" "You're going to be better now. That's all that matters." While Claudia also has some selfish, twisted self-preservation in there as well (she cannot or will not cope with the fracturing of her family, even when she really probably should), the self-destructive tendency that's led to her S6 spiral is well established.

This attitude of "it doesn't matter what happens to me, so long as other people are okay/safe" is something we see for many characters, of course, but I think is best embodied in Rayla's continual, emphasized thread of sacrifice / her tendency towards subtle but consistent passive suicidal ideation regarding her own safety and her own wants/desires.

R: Don't worry about my hand. The egg is all that matters. / It doesn't matter what happens to me. / I have to go after [Viren]. / It's agonizing, but I know our mission comes first.

This is important regarding her and Callum in regards to the possession plot line. As long as Callum is Callum (not possessed, or she has reason to believe he's still in there), Rayla likely won't be able to bring herself to kill him. This is from an emotional / characterization standpoint, of course, but from a thematic standpoint, we can see where it stems from Callum and Rayla continually being each other's main connection to their sense of identity.

As long as Callum is Callum ("you're the destiny is a book you write yourself guy"), he's worth saving. As long as Callum is Callum, she can be Rayla ("Rayla's brave. She saves people" / "Rayla. My name is Rayla, and I'm going home"). As long as she's Rayla, he can be Callum. Because if Callum isn't Callum, then he's dead, and if he's dead, she can kill him. And if Rayla kills him, if Callum is dead, then she won't be Rayla anymore. Because to literally kill Callum would be to simultaneously symbolically/emotionally kill herself.

Now of course, some of this is already differing wildly.

If Claudia is going to kill Sir Sparklepuff, it makes the most sense for it to have already come to pass in 6x01, whereas Callum and Rayla's plot line would only come later on in the season. Claudia will presumably succeed at her symbolic suicide, but that doesn't mean she's not still worth saving / unable to be saved in the future (perhaps by her family). Rayla will probably fail at her symbolic suicide and succeed at sparing herself through sparing/saving Callum.

However, it's an interesting symbolic thread and potential foil contrast, and I thought it was worth pointing out. I hope you think so too!

TLDR below:

Due to Claudia's parallels to Sir Sparklepuff, if she kills him it holds a layer of her symbolically killing herself. In contrast, Rayla's symbolic suicide would be in killing Callum, as that would destroy her own sense of identity/life. For Claudia, this means likely being saved later by her family, and for Rayla, this means likely sparing Callum and herself simultaneously, thereby saving and sparing both of them.

[sakkiichi]

BETTER THAN REVENGE.

you and your ex ended on bad terms. you want revenge. your annoying best friend might be the answer.

ft. Childe x gn! reader.

cw/genre: romance, fake dating, friends to lovers, mild angst, fluff, modern/college au, very brief mention of alcohol consumption.

word count: 2.6k.

i dreamt about this idea months ago, and i thought my first genshin crush’s birthday would be a good day to write it hehe. happy birthday ajax <3

What did you ever see in that asshole, you will never know.

You hate him. Of that, you are certain.

You really tried to put effort into your relationship, made time for him, prioritized him.

It seemed to always go unreturned.

And that much is made clear tonight, the sight of him making out with someone else at this party you don’t even know why you decided to attend, being the last straw.

“We’re done, you jerk.” Are the words you spat at him, throwing the remnants of your drink at your now ex-boyfriend.

You regret it now. Having wasted half a drink, that is.

The music blasting through the speakers is soon replaced by crickets chirping and the night wind ruffling through the trees. You spare a glance at the moon above. Full, its rays seemingly lighting up a liquid silver trail leading to you.

“Leaving so soon?” A familiar, and, might you add, annoying at times, voice questions.

Well, at least it’s better than hearing your ex, you muse to yourself, as you turn around to face your friend.

His ocean blue eyes glimmer in the summer starlight rain, matching the color of his baby blue t-shirt.

A smile makes it to your face. You always loved to steal that one when you had sleepovers.

“Nothing gold can stay, am I right, Ajax?” You retort, a mirthless grin plastered on your moonlit features.

Your friend takes a few steps forward, coming to stand next to you, shoulder playfully bumping against yours.

“I’d rather you stayed, though.” He says, a melancholy smile tugging at his lips.

You close your eyes, a sigh escaping you into the night.

“Let’s just say… I’ve had enough for tonight.” You mutter, exhaustion beginning to catch up to you.

“Anything happen?” Childe asks, ginger strands swaying around his face in the warm zephyr.

You bark a dry laugh, yet all you feel running through your veins is boiling anger.

“Well, I saw that asshole kissing someone else.” You cross your arms over your chest. “So I made it clear we’re done. I also wasted half my drink on that shithead when I spilled it on his face.” You tilt your head to the side. “Pity, that cocktail was much more worth it than him.” You add, matter of factly.

Ajax chuckles. He always liked your unapologetic remarks.

“You really did that?” He laughs. It’s nice, sincere. Then: “He didn’t deserve you anyway.”

“Eh, probably not.” You shrug. “I just really want to piss him off now.”

“Oh?” Your friend’s usually dull marine eyes light up in amusement. “Any ideas?”

“Huh, not yet…” You ponder, worrying your thumbnail between your teeth.

Childe levels his gaze with yours, that impish grin meaning he was up to no good not unlike the edge of the moon above.

“Date me.” He smirks, just like that.

And at that moment, you’re too aware of the heat rising to your cheeks, of the wild pounding of your heart against your ribcage, of the constellations of freckles dotting the bridge of Ajax’s nose. “You know, just as show, to spite him.”

And perhaps it’s the sweet intoxication of your half drunk cocktail, or the way a lake of stardust seems reflected in his eyes, but you find your pinky linked with his before you have half the mind to back off.

“Deal.”

—

On hindsight, perhaps you were impulsive.

Was it really a good idea to involve your best friend in this game of spite?

Readjusting your bag on your shoulder, you walk to your first period class.

Students, some more sleepy than others mill around campus, a collage of headphones on, hands busy on screens and chit chat filling the early morning air.

“Morning, babe.” Are the first words directed at you today, followed by a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Ajax…” You whisper-shout, frowning, face warming up. “You know you just need to pretend.”

“I’m very aware of that.” He whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear, as his voice lowers a little more. “He’s looking, sweetheart.”

Despite your quickened heartbeat, a devilish grin makes it to your features, arms wrapping around your best friend temporarily turned “boyfriend”.

“Ajax!” You coo, sweetly. “I had missed you so much! Ah! How am I going to endure six hours of class without seeing you?”

The redhead embraces you, arms tightening around your waist, dangerously close to your hipbones. His face buries in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you, lovingly.

“Good, he just stormed off.” He murmurs, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze.

You smile brightly, luminous eyes meeting his crinkled up ones.

His hand slides into yours, pressing it reassuringly, before you two part, promising to meet afterwards.

Oddly enough, when you sit at the back of the seminar, six hours feel like an eternity.

But, like all things, your classes come to an end, eventually.

Mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you leave the building.

It’s weird, this sensation, though.

You’ve been close with Childe for years, you’ve hugged countless times, slept at each other’s place just as many.

So, why now? Why did you feel all jittery and giddy at his subtle touches just earlier?

Perhaps you’re still shaken from your breakup, as much as you can’t stand your ex.

“Hey there, pretty.”

You look up from your phone to be met with the colors of oceans and sunrises, Ajax’s grinning face centimeters away from yours.

“Childe.” You bluntly greet him. It’s unfair how the early evening sun kisses his skin just right, the light dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks reminding you of the stars that soon will start decorating the sky. You clear your throat, then:

“You know we just need to look like we’re dating, right? I thought I’d made myself clear.” You don’t know if your statement is more directed at him or at yourself.

“I know,” the ginger smiles, falling in step by your side. “But we need to make it look convincing, don’t we?” He winks, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You’re insufferable, as always.” You grumble.

And yet, despite no one really being around at the moment, you make no effort to push the man away. And you definitely don’t complain when he switches to your other side, hand lingering on the small of your back, so that you take the innermost half of the sidewalk, away from the cars.

If someone were to ask, however, no, you certainly are not leaning into Ajax’s comforting hold.

—

A few more weeks go by, with most of your free time spent with your “fake boyfriend.”

And as much as you’ve always cherished him, despite his, at times, obnoxious nature, you certainly are confused right now.

What is it you feel for him? You like these newfound moments of shared tenderness between the two, so much that you wish they weren’t fabricated sometimes… What would it be like to love someone truly? To have someone love you?

What do his lips taste like? You wonder, as you have a few more sips of your iced peach juice.

You shake your head. No, you definitely did not think that. Must be the heat, messing with your head, surely.

However, willing fantasy or not, it turns out fate had indeed planned for you to indulge in your cravings.

The door of the establishment opens, the small bell above it signaling the entrance of another customer.

“[Y/n?]” Ajax calls, from the sit across you.

You tilt your head to the side, your redhead friend’s eyes focused on something behind you.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

“What?” You almost shout, the sound dying down to a whisper the moment his thumb brushes over your lower lip.

“Do you trust me?” He smirks.

“Yes, but-“

“You said yes.” Are Childe’s words before leaning in.

To say he was a good kisser would be an understatement.

His lips on yours feel like a roaring ocean, notes of spearmint and sunshine contained in the secret message in a bottle the waves of him carry. Ajax’s calloused hands cup your jaw, ruddy locks of hair tickling you when he angles his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

You wish this was real.

But would it really be a crime to play your part right now?

Your fingers tangle in his tangerine hued strands, slightly tugging at them as you bring him closer to you.

You don’t care if this is swimming against the current, if you did drown right now, you would go happy.

But because he’d be damned before he let you drown, your best friend pulls away, allowing air back into your lungs.

That’s the very best goddamn kiss you’ve ever been given.

But, alas, sometimes you think “stupid” should be Ajax’s middle name.

When you glance his way, he keeps looking at something beyond you, that shit eating smirk plastered on the lips you want to kiss again.

When you spare a peek over your shoulder, you spot him. Your ex, sitting with some girl, his face ashen as he looks in your direction.

So that’s all this was.

You should have figured, you chide yourself as you fiddle with the straw of your juice.

If you had payed attention, however, you would have noticed a pair of starry blue eyes not leaving you.

—

And after that arrives the day you realize you are screwed.

This was all just supposed to be a make believe charade, not you actually falling for your friend.

Because you can’t deny it anymore; whatever it is Ajax is to you now, it goes way past platonic.

You can’t let these feelings be known. Ever.

But how are you supposed to ignore all of his sweet gestures? His tender touches when holding your hand; the way he remembers your favorite ice cream, smoothie and coffee orders; how he brings you lunch when he ends up cooking too much for his siblings; or the way not only are you stealing his t-shirts on nights you fall asleep at each other’s rooms, but how he now drapes his hoodie over your shoulders, the night breeze uncharacteristically chilly for this time of year.

And that kiss. That goddamn kiss.

And perhaps your last breakup scarred you more than you let on; or maybe you love Ajax too much to keep up this lie with him. But before you can think twice, the words are out of your lips, glacial shards of a broken dream on a midsummer’s night:

“Ajax? Let’s stop doing this.”

Those eyes of his that sparkled in sapphire hues dim again at your statement.

He searches for your gaze, but you won’t look at him.

“Why? Something wrong?” Childe tries for his usual carefree tone, but you know better; the hurt and strained fear in the words he doesn’t speak are clear as day to you.

“Yes! I mean no! I mean…” You sigh. “I don’t think it makes sense anymore.”

In reality, what doesn’t make sense is pretending this relationship of yours is just for show. But you can’t let him know that.

“Got cold feet?” Your friend, or whatever he is now, asks, oceanic gaze glazed over, not a single star reflected in it when he stares skyward.

‘If only you could know’. Is the sentence you don’t let out through bitten lips.

Instead you offer:

“I don’t think this makes sense anymore.” Unconsciously, you adjust his hoodie a little tighter around your figure. “I just- I think I’ve gotten the revenge I wanted. I… I don’t know, I just want to hang out with you again, but honestly, not like this, not for an audience…”

You stop walking, standing a few paces before him.

“We don’t have to do any of this for the public, you know.” Your friend, crush, partner in crime? assures, shortening the distance between you with his long strides.

“But we do.” You sadly whisper, averting your eyes to the side. You can feel wetness pooling on them. Great, just what you needed. “I… I don’t want more fabricated romantic moments, I’ve had enough of love that was never anything to begin with before.” You humorlessly add. “I just, I want the next time I kiss someone or hold their hand… I want it to be real, for it to mean something… and I can’t keep stealing moments like these from you either, Childe.”

Salty droplets start to dye the grey pavement as you keep your eyes glued to it. Everything feels so complicated, so messy…

“I know this was your idea but… I can’t keep-“

“What makes you think it wasn’t real?” Familiar calloused fingers caress your cheeks, gathering the starless wetness sliding down them. “What makes you think you were stealing these moments from me?” Strong arms envelop you, akin to the early morning rays dancing over gentle waves lapping at the seashore. “It was my idea, right? You said it yourself. Why do you think that was?”

“I don’t know!” You sob into his chest. “I guess you were looking for fun, or you wanted to help me…” You wonder, voice a breath away from becoming fragments of a shattered snowglobe.

Ajax chuckles, soft. His hold on you tightens a little. Then:

“You know, sometimes you can be so dumb, [Y/n].” He utters, tone devoid of his usual teasing. “It was my plan, on that you are right.” His hands rest on your shoulders, as he pulls away to look at you. “But I guess now would be a good time to tell you why.” He shifts his weight on his feet, an unusual dusting of pink creeping up his neck caught by the streetlights. “Truth is, I was scared to, well, ask you out normally, I was scared of you saying no. When you started dating him, I hated him, but I hated myself more, for not having been able to prevent it. You looked unhappy.” He shoves his hands in his pants’ pockets. “So I don’t know, I figured maybe if we pretended, we’d keep it up for a while, or maybe if I was lucky, you’d really fall for me… kinda dense, right?”

You sniff, a smile tugging at your lips despite your cries.

“Yeah, definitely stupid.” You laugh softly, through the tears. “But effective.” You admit, glossy eyes searching for the molten northern stars in his stare.

“Wait, so you actually fell-?”

“Ajax. Kiss me. For real this time.” You plead, clutching the front of his baby blue t-shirt, urging him closer to you.

“What makes you think it wasn’t for real the first time?” He smirks, as his lips link with yours for the second time.

Your arms loop around his neck, his hands digging on the flesh of your lower waist, his palms a searing wave under your shirt. Childe’s kiss tastes of fireworks reflected over a still ocean, the quiet of the minutes before midnight in stark contradiction to the wild drumming of your infatuated heart. You stand on your tiptoes, desperately meeting his tidal wave at its zenith, the caress of the blossoming moon above and Ajax’s tongue swiping over your swollen lips sending shivers down your spine.

The clock strikes twelve, and a beeping sound interrupts the reverie.

Grumbling, you fish your phone out of your borrowed jacket’s pocket.

“00:00

Thursday, July 20th.

Ajax’s bday !! <3”

Your lit up screen reads.

You both let out a chuckle.

“Hey, Childe?” You call him. “Make a wish.”

“I don’t need to.” Constellations are reflected in his azure gaze, lovestruck with images of you dancing amongst them, the smile on his face dopey and entranced.

“Let me give you another present, then.” You tell him, pulling him close again. “Happy birthday, Ajax.” You breathe, as his hands hook under your thighs and your lips crash together again, no onlookers but the moon and stars this time.

[bad268]

Hi! if you want to or if you feel like it can you write anything about droid pezzy grizzy or puffer any of them you absolutely don't have to and if you want to can you write smth related to this

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CpFzEIjINj9/?igshid=MjljNjAzYmU=

Bubblegum Bitch (Big Puffer X Streamer! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Miscellaneous

Requested: Clearly (Took me a minute, I was tossing up different ideas for this I hope you like it!)

Warnings: Language ig

Pronouns: You/your

W.C. 1159

Summary: A broken promise leads to revenge.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Screenshot from sleep stream vid/can't remember which)

Chat was being a pain today. Well, they were always a pain, but it seemed more than usual. After your 3 month hiatus from streaming and social media, the chat was bound to be hectic. Add to the fact that it was a sleep stream. Yeah, it should've been expected that chat would have a field day.

"I get it, guys," you started off as you started setting up media share, "I haven't been active in forever. Y'all are just crazy, and I needed a break." You glanced over at the messages, most of it is just random letters and emotes. Some of it was welcoming you back to streaming, some asking if you're going to have a regular streaming schedule again, and some complaining that media share is not working. "Hold your horses, guys. I'm still setting it up, takes time."

You ended up putting on some elevator music to fill the silence as you continued to set up media share. At one point, someone sent a donation, and apparently, the sound was already connected to the speakers, so it nearly blew your eardrums out.

"Is Puffer joining you?" It said.

"Jesus, fuck, no," you laughed. "Ain't no way I could convince Puffer to join me for a sleep stream. Actually, maybe..." you trailed off, pulling your phone off the charger to text our chat. "Okay, we'll see what he says. In the meantime, feel free to blast him on Twitter or something. Blow up his notifications, so he'll have to join. I think he's streaming now, too, so feel free to leave while I set up media share."

Meanwhile, Puffer was streaming a you laugh, you spin the wheel, and his own chat had convinced him to add "sleep stream" to the list. Just as he spun the wheel, the last time for his stream, his chat starts blowing more so than usual. Instead of paying attention to the wheel, he focuses on what the chat is talking about. Most of them begging the wheel to land on the sleep stream or asking him to join his significant other.

"Did (twitch user) send you? I already told them I'm not joining," he laughed before beginning to dial your number but immediately stopped once he saw what the wheel landed on: sleep stream. "Oh fuck off. Really?" His attention flips to be solely focused on the wheel, making sure it actually landed on the sleep stream. "What if I just go join (twitch user)? Will that make you happy? Will that count?" Seeing the chat fill with yeses and happy emotes, he started setting up for a raid to his significant other with a sigh. "Fine, head over there. I'll be over there in a minute."

In your room, you finally got media share to work, and all of your viewers (plus Puffer's from the raid you didn't know you had) witnessed you get jumpscared by the Buzz Lightyear commercial. "There's gotta be a minimum for that. I can see why Puffer does $50 minimum for it."

"Puffer is coming" A donation read through the speakers, scaring you once again.

"Oh, how did y'all convince him? I'm curious," You asked chat, looking through the messages in hopes of seeing anyone answer my question.

"Unluck of the wheel and opportunity," Puffer answered as he walked into your office in a comfier outfit than what he was streaming in with a pillow and blanked. "The wheel landed on sleep stream, so I'm just going to join you."

The stream was hell, to put it lightly. With Puffer's audience excited for the sleep stream and your chat finally happy to see some content, there were no silence moments the entire night.

"I am never doing a sleep stream again," Puffer groaned as he hid his face in your neck while you checked the chat on your phone.

"On the bright side, it's gonna be over soon," You laughed, setting your phone down as you played with his hair. "Mods just told me that someone just sent in the last video of the night. Should be playing soon."

Looking up at the screen when you hear a song playing, it's Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA. Your eyes grew wide as you registered that it was the video you made over the break, teasing Puffer. The same video that you swore not to post.

"What the fuck is that..." Puffer trailed off, seeing you and him in the video. Then it gets to the chorus, and the video shows you grabbing him by the shirt, pulling him in like you were going to kiss him before pushing him away again. Immediately, he remembers when that happened. "You said you weren't going to post that!"

"I put it in the member's discord," You defended, "It was a challenge they asked me to do anyway, so one of them is a little snitch."

"On that note, we are done. I am done. I am never doing a sleep stream again," He exaggerated as he jumped out of the bed, leaving the room. "And I am never trusting you again!"

"Look at what you guys did," I lectured chat as I moved to end the stream. "Just for that, no stream for the rest of the week. See you guys next week! Think about what you've done. Bye!"

~~

Two days later, Puffer was still salty. You promised not to post that video, yet there it was on the internet. He was going to get back at you, and he knew exactly what he needed to do.

It was a chill day. One where you were cuddling into Puffer’s side as a movie played in the background, and you both scrolled through your phones. You put yours to the side as you got hit with a wave of exhaustion, pulling the blanket that was across your laps up to your shoulders.

This was his chance, he thought. You were nearly asleep, so you would not question his actions. He made sure his headphones were connected before setting up his phone to record your reaction. He gently shook you away during the lead-up of the song, your face filled with confusion, as he moved his hand to rest on the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss, but he stopped just short. 

“I’ll chew you up and,” He whispered against your lips before pushing you back, “I’ll spit you out.” Your face dropped in shock as you realized what he was doing. “Cause that’s what young love is all about.”

“So pull me closer,” You whispered back, overcoming the shock, as you grabbed his chin to pull him in, “and kiss me hard.”

“I’m gonna pop your bubblegum heart,” You both whispered together while jokingly glaring at each other. 

“I’m gonna post this,” Puffer said after a minute of just staring into your eyes. “I think that’s fair.”

“All is fair in love and war.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[jaelaxies]

𝟕:𝟎𝟕 𝐚𝐦

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

fluff; wc.: 476.

Kim Jiwoong x fem reader!; fluff fluff; established relationship and skinship; tw: none.

Song recommendation: You’re Beautiful — The Rose (Dual)

Nobody expected this. It was, indeed, a sight to see.

Kim Jiwoong, the tall gorgeous “mysterious” man who every girl in this faculty would drop everything for, was standing like a giant puppy with an enormous lovesick grin while you buttoned his coat, which he had unbuttoned on purpose on the way here, just to see your focused expression: the way you pursued your lips together and bit your tongue a little bit, the soft lines on your forehead and the lovely smile you gifted him when you were done. Your height difference made everything just so much funnier and cuter at the same time, because to thank you with a soft kiss on the forehead, he had to lean down a bit but that gave him the perfect excuse to whisper something only the two of you could hear; making your cheeks go dusty rose and his eyes crinkle with pure joy, his ears matching your colored cheeks.

—I really won the lottery in my past life, babe — As you recovered yourself from the cheesy remark, your hand immediately pinched his cheek, even though softly, he laughed at your weak attempt to get revenge.

—You did, indeed. — Carefully you draped your own scarf around his neck, finishing it in a bow. Red really suited Jiwoong but it was your soft strawberry scent emanating from the fabric and the sweet but firm tone of your words what made his heart race a mile per minute. — But I must admit I am a pretty lucky girl too… I have the cutest boyfriend ever. 

You tiptoed and pecked him on the lips, rushing him to enter the classroom for his final; but Jiwoong stood there smiling like an idiot and wondering what on earth did he do to deserve your pure and honest love; to him, you were too much of a woman and sometimes he just seemed like an idiot beside you; but it was never the case for you, who carefully grabbed his hand, brought it to your lips and kissed it softly; proudly showing him his new “good luck charm” the stain from your lipstick, which was one of his favorites. — Whatever the result is, I’m already proud of you, ok? No worries, you’ll do great. I believe in you!

When he was finally about to enter, he rushed to your position and softly cupped your cheeks pecking your lips so quickly, you barely felt the contact; before disappearing again through the door with a wide grin showing his pearly white teeth. You reached for your lips and smiled too, some way and somehow, he always needed to kiss you last, but it didn’t matter too much, because right now, the lavender haze that was your head was filled with thoughts of your boyfriend and how happy you were to have him by your side.

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

૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა finally i can write about my bias!! The way i blush everytime i think about this man... take me to delulu station right now.

tmi: If you're a fellow zerose, who is your bias? im very curious, also i like to know more friends in this fandom because it's a blast ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Because it's also my first time writing for him i thought something sweet and fluffy was perfect for the ocassion i think i managed to do it, but still feedback is always appreciated ♡

Btw, I'm currently working on a project involving fantasy... it's for a member of enhypen... can you guess who?

Anyways, thank you all so much for all the love and support!

I promise to put even more effort in creating joyful projects for you guys to read, love yall ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

With all the love in the world,

ੈ✩‧˚✧˖°࿐Stella!

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

[n-agiz]

THE OTHER WOMANㅤ ceo! gojo satoru x mistress! reader — smut [ 0.8k+ wc ] cws cheating + creampie ! MDNI

ㅤbeing someone's mistress wasn't something you had envisioned for your future, but when it came to gojo satoru, you supposed anything was possible.

sometimes you wondered why you had allowed yourself to get to this point.

if before this you hadn’t considered yourself an awful person, now you certainly did, and what you were doing was just one of the other million reasons why. you didn’t need this, didn’t need to be doing something so immoral, but as much as you hated to admit it, you had grown to crave it, crave something that once the mere idea of made you sick.

“you always look so pretty, baby. such a pretty thing, and all for me, right?”

“yes ‘toru, only for you”

your thighs ached from moving up an down, the burn somehow pleasant due to the pleasure it consequently gave you. your hands rested on gojo’s broad shoulders, legs parted over his lap and lingerie pushed to the side just enough to give his hard dick access to your pussy, having it fill you up perfectly, pink tip pressing against your cervix deliciously and veiny length rubbing against your walls in a way that made your head spin, the pleasure so great you wondered how much longer you would be able to last before finally reaching your high.

gojo satoru was an influential men, a rich ceo who came from a line of others much too similar to him. his family was known for their wealth, for how powerful they were, their reputation something they needed to keep in order to continue thriving — so you wondered what was so special about you that made him put everything on the line for just a few weekly fucks. you could destroy him if you wanted, could come out and talk all about how gojo satoru, a married man, had been fucking you for years now, having been with you ever since he got with his wife. you could talk about all the promises he made you, how he would assure you he would get divorced just to marry you instead, how he wished he had gotten with you in the first place instead of agreeing to an arranged marriage, how he would always tell you how insufferable his wife was and how much he loved you. those thing could all be lies, stuff he said while high on pleasure and when his dick was doing the thinking instead of his brain, but he still said them at some point, had repeated them too many times to count actually, so if you wanted, if you truly desired it, you could destroy him, get the revenge you sometimes thought about and finally show the world how immoral he actually was — but at the end of the day, you never did it, because truthfully you were just as unethical as him, after all, even if you weren’t directly betraying someone, you were still willingly helping someone do it.

gojo satoru might be an asshole, but you couldn’t really judge him because you completely mirrored him in that aspect.

“fuck baby! keep going like that, you feel so good around my dick” satoru’s moans were entracing, pretty even, and just as addicting as the feeling of the drag of his cock in and out of you, as addicting as everything about him.

“‘m close, ‘toru! really close”

“cum for me, pretty baby. cum all over my cock, c’mon” as he spoke, gojo started thrusting up into you, the chair you both sat on starting to creak as he matched your movements, reaching even deeper inside you. for a second you forgot all about how wrong this was, your own pleasure the only thing filling your brain as you felt your orgasm start to build, soon enough feeling the tightening knot in your lower stomach snap, sending blasts of pleasure to hit you hard. “ahh fuck! that’s it, just like th- argh!” and before long, gojo too reached his climax, moaning shamelessly while filling you up with his seed.

“‘toru!” your mewls were like music to satoru’s ears, so lewd and yet so beautiful, a boost of confidence that nothing else could give him. at it’s core, that was all you were to him, a simple boost of confidence, something he shouldn’t have but that he still did simply because he could, because he wanted to — and although you would never admit to it openly, at it’s purest form your relationship with him was also just something that rubbed your ego just the right way, something you kept up because it made you feel good, made you feel wanted, desired, and that was why you two would never work out if your relationship had been born in any other context. you and gojo worked out because, as wrong as it was, you were attracted to each other exactly because you weren’t supposed to have one another, because you were each other’s forbidden fruit, which turned you both into the more appetizing one, the more addicting one, and the only one that could ever satiate your thirst at this point.

being the other woman was a role you never thought you would fulfill, but as you sat on top of gojo satoru and looked at his glossed over eyes, pure lust filling their blue irises while he stared up at you, you wondered if you hadn’t actually been destined for this role all along.

N-AGIZ '23ㅤ REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED !

[cursedvibes]

I like the tragedy of Gojo “always being seen and used as a weapon by jujutsu society” Satoru not even finding peace in death and still being used as a weapon as if he’s some flesh mecha but that is literally the only good crumb I could muster from this chapter (and some kinda solid Gojo characterization in his talk with his students).

The constant sidelining of Yuuji is not making me excited, it’s making me annoyed. Yuuta and Sukuna didn’t need a revenge battle- the only thing connecting them is the motif of love and Yuuta already got his shit rocked in like 3 chapters 😭. Leave Gojo’s poor corpse alone.

Yeah, him seeing himself as a weapon fits with his The Strongest mindset. So I'm not that surprised he's fine with it, but you'd expect the others to have a little more sense. Kusakabe seems to have been the only one who had a strong moral opposition to this and I imagine Yuuji would have too, but he wasn't asked. The thing with Yuuta giving up his humanity to become stronger was set up, but him refusing to do that was the only thing that set him apart and spoke for him as a character. Now he just buys into the Strongest ideology like everyone else. Well, guess he can die like them too then. He's the only Special Grade alive anyway (being new gen I thought Gege might want to keep him alive, but with that mindset I doubt it). But then he's like mememe nobody can help except for me, so I have no choice but to take over Gojo's body.

Yuuji and Todo were handling Sukuna just fine. We got a confirmation last chapter that everyone except Choso made it out of the Furnace blast. Maki could've helped with Soul Blade for immediate back-up. If things are so dire that Yuuta has to resort to this, then that should've been shown. Although him being selfless in a selfish way is consistent I guess. But the timing of it was still wrong. I thought whatever that apparition ended up being could be a distraction, so Yuuji could contact Megumi, rip out Sukuna's heart, further tear at his soul, literally anything useful. But nope, he gets shoved aside, so we can get Sukuna vs Gojo 2.0. Thank God, that's exactly what I was missing right now...another character who has no connection with Sukuna throwing himself at him to die. Just drag this out even further why don't we? Maybe Yuuji and Todo will help this time, so it's not as much of an idle standby as last time, but it's still...why?

Also, we just established that gaining new techniques takes skill. You'd especially expect that to apply to six eyes and Limitless. Yuuta would see the world completely different. Even Gojo had a learning curve and took at least 20 years to get to the level he's on now. But Yuuta has been in that body for a minute and can already use Unlimited Void. What a fucking genius. Nobody does it like him. Why not leave the rest to him as well? Strength is all that matters right?

Also, while the humanity stuff and Yuuta being Gojo's successor was foreshadowed, he still has zero(0) connection to either Kenjaku or Sukuna. Sukuna even less than Kenjaku. With Kenjaku you kind of have the justification that he wanted to put Geto's body to rest (for Gojo), but that's it and that doesn't justify him having that level of involvement. With Sukuna it's literally just: he's a bad guy and needs to be defeated. And I guess Yuuta buys now into his mindset as well. But that is consistent you could say because he never had much of a thematic connection with Geto either aside from "please don't kill my friends because I put all my self-worth on them".

Sorry for the rant 😅 just had to get it all out of my system