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whatswrongwithblue · 16 days

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Imagine Angel Dust questioning you on your sex life with Alastor

Part 2

“C’mon toots, you gotta give me something!”

“I absolutely do not,” you say stubbornly, turning away from the spider demon but he just scooted closer to you on the couch, practically looming over you.

“Pleeeaaase. I can’t figure the guy out. He’s all flamboyant and goofy one minute and then terrifying and menacing the next. How does that translate in bed? Is he a bottom? A switch? A top?” Angel leaned impossibly closer, his voice taking on a more conspiratorial tone. “Does he let you peg him?”

“Angel!” you exclaimed, leaning over the side of the couch to get away, “that is really none of your business! And he would rip your arms off if he heard you asking such things.”

Angel Dust huffed, frustrated, and folded both sets of arms across his chest, practically pouting.

“This is just unfair. I tell you so much about my work, I don’t hold anything back.”

“I wish you would,” you mumbled, recalling the last disturbingly detailed conversation you were forced to listen to. You still shuddered when you thought about your friend participating in “sounding” or “donkey shows.”

“Alright, well you gotta at least tell me this much,” he said, sitting back up and holding two hands up in front of him. “How big is the guy?”

You shook your head, trying to pull out your phone and ignore him.

“This big?” he asked, holding his hands out about 8 inches apart. “Or this big?” His hands got a couple inches farther apart. “Or, I know, he’s gotta be like THIS big, huh?” Angel’s hands were now over a foot apart from each other.

“Oh my God, don’t be gross Angel, that wouldn’t even fit inside of me.”

“Okaaaaaay,” Angel said with a smirk, “so not as big as some of the Hellhounds I gotta take up the ass.”

“Please stop,” you groan, burying your face in your hands.

“Not until you tell me something juicy about your boyfriend.”

“Ugggghh, seriously, fine,” you say, defeated, and Angel sat forward eagerly, “I mean you’ve obviously seen him shape shift into taller forms. So, let’s just say . . . he’s as big as he . . . or I . . . want him to be.”

“Hmmmm,” Angel said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not a lot to go off of but I think I like your way of thinking. So, like this big then?”

You didn’t even look over to see how far apart Angel’s hands were now.

“What’s the record for how many times he’s made you cum in one night?”

“Angel, you said you would stop!” you yelled, feeling a blush begin to heat up your face.

“A lot huh? Because that, my friend, is the face of a woman who’s lost count,” he said with a knowing smirk.

“I am not dignifying that comment with a response.”

“I’m just sayin,’ I’ve seen you first thing in the mornings. You have the look of a gal who’s well satisfied.”

“Well, I am,” you say, “but that’s all decency will allow me to say. Alastor is a very private man and you should respect that.”

“Decency Schmeecency,” Angel said, throwing himself back into the couch cushions and picking up his own phone, looking bored with the conversation now. “This is Hell, there’s no such thing.”

Relieved he seemed to be dropping the subject, you pick up your own phone and enjoy a couple minutes of silence to scroll through your Sinstagram feed.

“Oh fuck me!” Angel exclaimed, startling you and making you drop your phone.

“What?!”

“That guy has got tentacles!”

There was no stopping the rush of blood to your face then . . . or the little smirk you just couldn’t seem to stop, though you did try and look away.

“Ooooooooh, oh doll face, you can’t hide that look from me,” Angel said, practically crawling over the couch to invade your space once again, “he has totally used those on you, hasn’t he?”

You turned to look at Angel, another retort about privacy ready on your tongue, but your eyes widen in horror as you see two shadowy tendrils raising up behind your friend’s back.

Angel registered the look on your face and sat back an inch.

“Wha-“

The tentacles grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him back to his side of the couch, and holding him down.

“I believe the lady said something about decency,” Alastor’s staticky voice said from somewhere behind the couch and then his shadow rose up from the ground before solidifying into the full glory of his demonic form. His body unnaturally long, antlers spread out wide, he towered over the spider demon he had pinned to the sofa.

“S-s-sorry man,” Angel said with a loud gulp, “I was just kidding around, you know,” he tried to chuckle nervously. “I-it was just girl talk.”

“Alastor,” you said, unbothered by your lover’s terrifying demonic appearance, “let him go. He’s harmless.”

“Hmmm,” Alastor said, tilting his head, eyes glowing brighter as he put on a show of considering the prey he had trapped in his tentacles. “Fine.”

Alastor dropped the tentacles from around Angel and within a blink of an eye, was back to his usual form, straightening his bow tie and brushing off the sleeves of his jacket.

“Ready for our lunch date?” you said, bouncing up off the couch and coming to stand by Alastor, who smiled down at you and looped an arm through yours.

“Sounds lovely, darling,” he replied, guiding the two of you around the back of the couch and towards the front of the lobby. “I’m positively starving.”

At the word “starving,” Alastor leaned over the couch, his glowing, toothy expression letting Angel know just how close he had come to being the cannibal’s lunch.

Angel sank deeper into the couch cushions in submission, eyes wide and fixed on Alastor, as the two of you headed for the front doors.

Alastor opened the door, but you paused after stepping through, grabbing the handle and shooting your friend a mischievous smile and wiggling your eyebrows in a suggestive manner at him. It was your own way of confirming his last line of questioning before Alastor had interrupted. You watched Angel’s jaw drop open and then closed the door, leaving him to his imagination.

Husk, who had been silently watching the entire thing from his place at the bar, began laughing.

“Yeah, he totally fucks her with those things,” he said, before taking a swig from his beer bottle. “Did you see the way she looked at them? She was almost jealous when he had you pinned to the sofa.”

“Jesus Christ,” Angel said, still panting a little. “Yeah, I don’t blame her. That was hot as fuck.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine

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bumblequinn · 8 months

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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

#adhd #advice #asks #from #sourpatchsquids

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lawsvalentine · 1 year

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@yuhhvalentine I just thought I another scenario that would be fun when you have the time though. Can I please request NSFW Law x Chef 👩‍🍳 Female reader. With the reader making some sex inducing rice balls as a favor for Ikkaku. But Law steals one without knowing. In the end reader figures it out.

Cee’s note: No way! I was thinking about doing a Law aphrodisiac fic for a minute now, it’s like you read my mind lol. But sure thing love 💓

Tags 🤍: @sanjisblackasswife (🫶🏽 your aphrodisiac series is the best) @3strapstyle @uchihabbynic @pinkcrystal-rose @nympheclipse (my fellow Law girlies and gents ) @roronoaswifey (ily bae) @usopps-devotee (you highkey inspired the mirror sex part)

Consuming an Aphrodisiac Food • Law x Fem!reader • (18+)

CW: Accidental Consumption of Aphrodisiac food, smut (dry humping, fingering, mirror sex, shower sex, praise, overstimulation, dumbification, squirting, multiple creampies), a very horny Law, slight aftercare at the end

*MDNI*

“I’m telling you, the sex is supposed to be MIND BLOWING!”

You chuckled at Ikakku’s words as your hands molded the rice balls into shape. This wasn’t the first time a crew member had requested for you to make them special meals, with you being the ship’s cook and all. However, this was the first time someone requested for you to make sex induced food for them.

But Ikakku was your dear friend. You two were the only women in Law’s crew, so naturally you two became very close. You were more than happy to do this favor for her.

“I still can’t believe you and Penguin are a thing”, you said with a shake of your head. “And please spare me the details about y’alls sex life.”

Ikakku feigned offense with a scoff and a hand to her chest. “Hey! I don’t judge your relationship with our Captain”, she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

Your cheeks burned at the mention of your lover. Even though you and Law have been together for a while now, the thought of him still made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“That’s different! Me and Law are more…private,” you said shyly.

“More like BO-RING!”

“IKKAKU!” You gasped, ready to throw the rice ball at her.

She giggled, holding her hands up in defense, “Look, all I’m saying is maybe you two should spice things up a bit. Wouldn’t hurt for our uptight captain to loosen up.”

With that, Ikakku exited the kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts.

Were we…boring?

Law was a busy man and you a busy woman, with him and his medical studies and you having the responsibility of preparing meals for the entire crew throughout the day. So to balance responsibilities and your relationship, you guys had a schedule for your…alone time.

You weren’t complaining, the routine worked for you too. But now as you were rolling the sticky rice in your hands, you couldn’t shake Ikkaku’s words out of your head.

“There! All done”, you wiped your forehead with the back of your arm before reaching behind your back to loosen your apron. There in a metal dish were 6 rice balls sprinkled with the special garnish just as Ikkaku requested. You hung your apron on the rack before heading out the kitchen to fetch your friend to retrieve her “snack”.

After you had exited the kitchen, moments later, your tattooed boyfriend entered in hopes of finding you.

While working, he thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a short break just to fetch something to eat (mostly to see you). He frowned at the empty kitchen, he was sure you would be in here. His disappointment faded once he spotted the rice balls on the kitchen counter.

His lips curled in a smile, cheeks slightly tinted pink as he eyed the dish.

Were these for me?

Rice balls were his favorite snack and you would make it often for him when he would miss out on dinner, too consumed with work. It was one of the things Law most appreciated about you.

Law thought you must’ve known he would come in here for food and left these rice balls for him. He grabbed two of them to take with him back to his office. As he made his way back, he munched on one of them, humming contently at the taste.

It tasted slightly different than the ones you usually made but it was still delicious nonetheless. He made a mental note to “thank you” later for it.

After an hour, Law started feeling…strange.

Law’s forehead beaded with sweat droplets. He paused his writing to wipe his forehead with the back of his palm. He then stripped off his hoodie, his tank top sticking to his chest, drenched in sweat.

What the hell?

Law stripped the damp tank from his body leaving his chest bare. He started examining himself, concerned he was starting to catch a fever. After the diagnostic, he came to the conclusion that he wasn’t sick but something was causing him to be all hot and bothered and it was frustrating the hell out of him.

Suddenly a knock sounded at the door, interrupting his thoughts. He yelled a “who is it?” and turned his attention to the door, to find you peeking your head in with a grin. His face softened at the sight of you.

“Hey babe, I have some time to kill before preparing dinner. Mind if I stay here?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

You were so cute, Law wanted to kiss that adorable pout off your face.

Law nodded, beckoning you inside with his hand. You beamed as you entered his office, shutting the door behind you. You went towards the book stand adjacent to Law, back facing him as you scoured the selection for a book to read.

Law couldn’t control his gaze from staring at your ass, admiring how nice it looked in those jeans you were wearing. He could feel his pants get tighter from his growing erection. He pressed a hand to his bulge, scrunching his forehead at his body’s reaction.

He didn’t know why he felt so horny all of a sudden but all he knew is that he needed you and needed you now.

You finally found a book to your liking and was about to sit on his desk but instead you were pulled on top of Law’s lap, straddling his pelvis. Your eyes widened when you felt how hard he was under you.

“L-Law?” A soft moan escaped your lips as Law started littering kisses and bites against the skin above your shirt collar.

“Mmm….wanna thank you for earlier” Law mumbled against your soft skin.

Thank me for earlier?

You had no clue what Law was referring to. You were about to question him more until you felt his lips against yours. His hands snaked around your lower back, squeezing your ass through your jeans. Your lips moved against each other so sensually, soft moans being swallowed by each others mouths.

He pulled away to only latch his mouth back against your neck. Your hands tossed his spotted hat to the side before entangling your fingers in his messy locks . He started bucking his hips up into you, adding pressure from his bulge to your clothed sex.

“You’re so good to me Y/N-ya”, Law said between peppered kisses he was leaving from your neck to your lips, “wanna show you how much I appreciate you”

You didn’t know what had gotten into your usually stoic boyfriend but you were definitely enjoying this side of him.

Your arousal started to build as you two continued grinding against each others fronts, grunts and pants escaping each others lips as you both chased your highs. Your moans became high pitched as you felt your orgasm hit you.

You felt Law groan against your neck as he came right behind you, making a mess inside his pants. Law lifted his head, his darkened eyes meeting your dazed ones.

“Looks like we made a bit of a mess” Law smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you knew it, you were being carried out of Law’s study room to the bathroom across. You were surprised by Law’s actions considering he was usually very keen about keeping your relationship private, with little to no PDA. You were loving this sudden spontaneous behavior from your boyfriend, making your core throb even more for him. Once the bathroom door closed between you two, you both couldn’t keep your hands or mouths off each other.

“Law what about dinner? Our schedule?”, you managed to get out between kisses.

“Fuck the schedule” Law prodded and pulled your jeans down your thighs. “Need you so bad right now”

That’s all you needed to hear, completely letting yourself go with him. You both stripped each other’s clothes from your bodies. Law turned you around, your back pressed against his chest as he lifted one of your legs up, your foot resting on the bathroom sink. You both were facing the mirror, your leaking pussy on full display.

Law’s arm wrapped around your front, his tatted “E” and “A” fingers infiltrating your wet hole. You mewl at the stretch of his long digits, as he continued to pump in and out of you.

“You look so hot like this babe, getting fucked by my fingers” he said, eyes strained on the mirror, watching the faces you’re making and the way your arms desperately grasp his arms as his fingers penetrate your cunt.

He swears he can cum alone just from the sight of you falling apart by just his fingers. Suddenly your body starts to writhe as you feel your stomach tightening.

“Law…I can’t it’s too much” You whimper, feeling his fingertips hit your sweet spot over and over again. Law takes his fingers out and starts rubbing your clit violently.

“Yes you can, take it” Law was not letting up, determined to get you to cum.

“Shit..Law…Law..Law”, you chant his name as your legs started to shake as your juices spray all over the mirror like a hose.

Law was mesmerized watching you make a mess all over his fingers and the bathroom sink and mirror.

Your vision was hazy and your chest was heaving as you came down from the most intense orgasm you ever had. You didn’t even realize your limp body was being carried into the shower until you felt the warm water spray down on both of you.

Law lowered you onto his cock, and started bucking his hips up into you. Law usually paced his strokes more thoroughly when you two usually had sex, but at this moment his thrusts were animalistic as he chased his high.

The sound of the shower water barely drowned out your cries and Laws groans alongside the slapping of skin against skin.

The way Law’s cock was hitting your g spot so fast and hard, had tears glossing your eyes. The pain of your overstimulated cunt mixed with pleasure was too much.

Law couldn’t get enough of you. He was drunk off the feeling of your sweet warm walls around him. He emptied his load not once, but twice more. He continued fucking himself into overstimulation. He had one more in him, pushing past his limit. His pace never letting up, determined to fill you up one last time.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes” Was the only word you could say as Law continued abusing your cunt. You had lost count of the amount of orgasms you had, each one more intense than the last.

“Fuck, babe, I love you” Law grunts, before spilling inside you one last time.

Your back was pressed against his tattooed chest as he lazily caressed the bar soap over your chest pressing a kiss to your forehead.

After you both calmed down, Law’s sexual drive finally wore off. He drew you two a bath to properly clean yourselves off from the mess you two made.

“That was…” Law paused unable to describe what had just happened.

“Mind blowing”, you finished, and suddenly a switch was flipped in your head and your eyes widened at your revelation.

“Babe, did you happen to eat rice balls that were in the kitchen?” You said, tilting your head back to look at him.

“Yes and they were delicious”, he pressed another kiss to your forehead. “I thought that was clear from my “thank you””, he said with a smirk.

Oh my god

You suddenly burst out laughing, and Law looked at you like you had lost your mind.

“What, Y/N-ya?”

How could you have not seen the signs. Suddenly your boyfriend’s behavior was starting to make s lot more sense.

“See, what had happened was….”

#trafalgar law #trafalger law smut #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law one piece #trafalgar law x y/n #law x y/n #law x you #one piece smut #law smut #trafalgar law smut #op smut #op fanfic #one piece fanfiction

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sophie-frm-mars · 3 months

Text

I'm not sure how much people are talking about Aaron Bushnell having engaged with online leftist media, but the records show that they were a viewer of a bunch of different twitch streams, including mine, and subscribed to a bunch of patreons, including mine. I'm not going to inflate my importance here, the livestream link was sent directly to Talia Jane and Anark, so those are probably the voices Bushnell felt the most connected to and followed the most directly, like idk if they also subscribed to someone's patreon after watching a video abt Cars 2 or whatever, I'm not trying to examine whether social media drove the self immolation because I think that's disrespectful to the memory of someone who literally died screaming Free Palestine. I don't personally know of any leftist creators who directly advocate political suicide, and I know that we all share in the political understanding that underscored Bushnell's decision.

I've already made a point of telling my patreon server that my politics are about growing into each other and supporting one another and that if anyone asked me if I thought they should do what Bushnell did I would say no absolutely not.

I'm ruminating a bit on the nature and meaning of the protest, because a lot of people are engaging with the image of a man in fatigues on fire, standing proud and declaring "FREE PALESTINE", while I've seen others talking about the fact Bushnell's username on several platforms was LillyAnarKitty, mourning the loss of a potential trans sister, talking in depressive terms about the act of suicide, to which I think the people who are engaging in the more macho interpretation of the protest are saying "no it was cool and masculine, it wasn't suicide in the conventional sense it was about principle!" I think there's room for plenty of both. For the record LillyAnarKitty used he and she pronouns in discord servers.

Andreas Malm's approach to self-sacrifice and self-endangerment is that we as subjects of the imperial core are in a sense, precious. Valuable. We are supposedly what it is all for. The imperialist project must be doing it for the citizens of the imperialist nations because if it isn't, then it has to nakedly admit that it is doing it all for the intense power and wealth consolidation of a tiny tiny number of soulless ghouls. Therefore when we put ourselves in harm's way in a way that says you would have to destroy me to get to the thing I care about, we leverage the implicit value of ourselves for our principles. A planned protest by Palestine Action against the London Stock Exchange was allegedly going to involve locking the actionists' necks onto the mechanism of the door into the LSE making it impossible to enter or leave without probably killing them, for example. I think that Bushnell's self immolation sits on a sort of dissonance, my life is precious and my life is worthless. My life is precious and so you should care about the obvious tragedy that I am enacting and my life is worthless if thousands upon thousands of Palestinians are killed as part of the project that enables the life that I lead.

There is also the way that people have debated the meaning of "complicit in genocide" - Bushnell worked in USAF Intelligence and the US has active troops in Palestine, it's possible that they were already culpable in an unknowable number of deaths without having set foot there.

In one sense it's a little pointless to debate the fine details of the meaning of Bushnell's protest in the same way that it's pointless to pick over any feelings of responsibility that I and I know other people that we know they watched are feeling. When I first saw the video I was struck by the language, by their concise and astute analysis and I knew, without knowing just how closely that they were plugged into the same intellectual and political milieu as us. In that same sense I think that they already described what they did the best that any of us are going to be able to:

“My name is Aaron Bushnell. I am an active-duty member of the United States Air Force, and I will no longer be complicit in genocide.”

“I’m about to engage in an extreme act of protest. But compared to what people have been experiencing in Palestine at the hands of their colonizers, it’s not extreme at all. This is what our ruling class has decided will be normal.”

"Free Palestine."

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moonstruckme · 9 months

Text

On Thin Ice

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

This was requested by anon, but I'm not including the request because I'm going to write at least one more part and I don't want to spoil anything. But thanks so much for requesting, anon my love! I'm really having fun with it :) Also, just a disclaimer that I know next to nothing about figure skating, so while I tried to look most things up, there may be some inaccuracies

summary: when your usual figure skating partner Regulus is injured, you're forced to prepare the most romantic routine you've ever done with Sirius Black. You've known Sirius since you were little and have always found him irritating, but as you spend more and more time together, your feelings towards him start to change

cw: mention of injury (no details), Sirius Black is a relentless flirt

Figure Skater!Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 3.3k words

You want to be kinder to your friend, but you’re a bit angry with him. You’re not great at hiding it, either.

“It’s not like I can fucking help it.” Regulus rolls his eyes, and you do your best to undo the petulant pout of your lips.

“I know,” you sigh. “I know that. I’m sorry, it’s just, seriously? Why can’t Coach give me someone else?”

“You know why.”

You blow out another huffy breath, because you do know, but that doesn’t make you like it any better. Sirius is our best bet, your coach had told you, firm and impassive to your protests. He’s great on the ice, he always scores well, and Reg can teach him the routine while they’re at home. If we used anyone else, we’d lose time while they learned it. You’d sulked, and he’d given you a stern look. So suck it up.

And you’re trying. Kind of. You wouldn’t ordinarily consider yourself an ill-tempered person, but Sirius Black brings out the worst in you. Always has. He’s Regulus’ irritating older brother, always around to pull your pigtails when you were little and make fun of everything you and Reg enjoyed as you got older. And in everything you love about your best friend, Sirius is the opposite. Where Regulus is restrained, Sirius is brash; where Regulus is content with a few close friends, Sirius needs an entire posse around him at all times; where Regulus has a quick, quiet wit, Sirius seems to feel a joke isn’t worth telling if everyone can’t hear it. He’s loud and facetious and insufferable, and now he’s your partner in the most intimate routine you’ve ever done.

“I know,” you groan again, falling back onto Regulus’ bed. “I just wish I could change it. Who do I have to bribe to get you a miracle recovery?”

Regulus scoffs, but he lies down beside you sympathetically. “The doctor said it should be better by next season, but a fractured ankle doesn’t fix itself in a couple weeks.” His voice turns bitter. “Trust me, I asked.”

You wince guiltily. You’re not the only one suffering from Regulus’ incapacity. You’d both been practicing this routine for weeks. It was one of the most challenging and showy either of you have ever done. You were both supposed to have the chance to really shine, showing off your skills with complicated jumps and throws, some of which you’d never attempted before. But now Reg wouldn’t get the change.

Ironically, it had been a fairly simple routine that had taken him down. One of your go-tos. You’d been performing it together for years, but maybe that sense of security was dangerous too. It’s too easy to land wrong, and one tiny slip had fractured Regulus’ ankle right in the middle of competition, forcing your coach to come help you get him off the ice.

You’d cried more than he had as the on-site medics had inspected it, completely unhelpful but unable to bear seeing your best friend’s features twisted in agony. It turned out that was nothing compared to the look on his face when they’d told him he wouldn’t be able to skate on it for months.

“How does it feel?” you ask, more gently now, and Regulus’ scowl softens in response. “Does it still hurt all of the time?”

“Not really, only when I walk on it. And they said I should be able to do that without much pain soon, just no jumping or anything.”

Your heart aches with sympathy, and you have to resist the urge to reach over and touch his hand, his hair. Regulus has never much liked being touched, which you understand, but it makes him a difficult person to comfort. You resort to your method with the highest success rate: distraction.

“Well, at least the cast is a fun accessory,” you say, forcing levity into your voice. “We could draw on it, it’ll be like having tattoos.”

“Pass,” Reg replies disinterestedly. “Tattoos are more my brother’s aesthetic than mine.”

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes, unable to stopper your irritation at the return of the conversation to Sirius. “Do you think Coach will let me have a new partner if I kneecap him?”

“If you’re going to kneecap someone,” comes a cool voice from the open doorway, “it’s probably best not to ponder your scheme so loudly in their house.”

You raise your head to find Sirius leaning against the door frame, arms crossed insouciantly in front of his chest. He looks at you with the eyes he shares with his brother, but where Regulus’ tend towards cool grayness, Sirius’ always seem to waver between gray and blue, like the sky during a storm. They’re flashing now, amusement mingled with cunning, as you meet them with a glare.

“Maybe I’m just giving you a red herring,” you say smoothly, “so you’ll never see my actual plan coming.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, shortcake,” Sirius replies, grinning when your face goes hot at the nickname, “but I think I’ll start wearing protective gear just in case. Reg, think you could revoke this one’s key until after the competition?”

Regulus pretends to contemplate this, staring up at the ceiling. “No, she’ll only start coming in through my window again.” You grin at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches in response, remembering all the cuts and bruises you used to have when you were younger from climbing the old tree outside his window, late at night when you were both supposed to be asleep. The first few times you’d tried, rotting branches had broken and fallen from beneath you, but you’d kept at it until you’d plotted a safe course. You’re sure Reg would have snuck downstairs to let you in the front door if you’d ask him, but better you get in trouble than him. “Anyway, it’ll be entertaining to watch.”

“Whatever happened to brotherly loyalty?” Sirius feigns hurt, but gets past it quickly. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to keep in mind that if I can’t perform, there won’t be a performance. I’ve already learnt half the routine, and I think you might struggle to find someone else skilled enough to catch up in time.” He winks at you, and you scoff, pointedly unaffected. “So I’ll see you at practice on Monday, sunshine,” he gloats, and disappears down the hallway.

You wait until you hear the click of his door to lay back down, passing a hand over your face exhaustedly. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with that all of the time,” you moan.

Regulus chuckles wryly. “Welcome to my world.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“Y/N,” Coach calls frustratedly. “You have to let him throw you, not jump.”

You’ve almost just followed in Regulus’ footsteps for the upteenth time today, which isn’t exactly in line with your plan of getting Sirius injured, but you figure will do in a pinch. The truth is, your focus has been off all day. Switching to a new partner is always hard; you’re used to Regulus, you’ve spent years learning how to skate together, to anticipate the other’s movements, and finding that rhythm with another person takes work. But learning how to skate with Sirius is more challenging than even you had expected. He’s distracting, for one thing. He keeps smiling at you, making faces when you mess up, and whispering obnoxious little pointers when you’re in the middle of a complicated move. And his own movements are bigger and more elaborate than you’re used to, lacking Regulus’ control. You can see, objectively, how it works for him. It gives his performance that extra bit of artistry that Regulus has often been accused of needing, but it makes him more difficult to anticipate. He’s stronger than Reg, too, so he throws you higher, flings you farther, grips you tighter. It’s a lot to learn, but your coach doesn’t seem very sympathetic to your plight. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve wasted almost an entire day of practice and are undoing weeks of hard work learning the choreography with your repeated mistakes.

You nod at him again, moving to reset, but Sirius slides in front of you.

“Hey,” he says, “I can feel you tensing when I go to throw you. Is something wrong?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, breath still puffing into the air between you from the exertion of your leap. “No,” you reply shortly. “I’ll fix it.”

And really, you should have been able to fix it a dozen tries ago. You’ve practiced throws with Regulus for years now. You’re supposed to push down on Sirius’ shoulders, use the momentum of your spin to give you a little boost, and let him do the rest. But you can’t seem to manage the last part. Sirius’ hands on your waist had discomposed you from the first try, and you keep finding yourself trying to jump off the ground before he has a chance to lift you. It doesn’t work, you know it’s never going to work, but it’s like some fight-or-flight instinct takes over every time Sirius’ hands get close to you. You suspect it’s because you’re so used to Regulus’ touch aversion; this routine is meant to seem romantic, but between the two of you, it had always felt chaste, more about the mechanics of the movements than the meanings behind them. Sirius loves to be touched, though, probably too much. He teases you about how cold your hand is in his, the tentative way you touch his shoulder when you’re supposed to grip it, how you jolt a little when he rests his hand on the small of your back. You’re on edge every second he’s around you, which by the very nature of the routine, is often.

And so you keep jumping, which causes Sirius’s throw to be stunted when he can’t get a good grip on you, which causes you to fumble your landing. Every. Time.

“You can trust me, you know,” Sirius persists, looking half earnest for once in his life. “I’m not going to launch you too high or anything. Just let me do the work.”

“I’ve got it,” you growl, and Sirius raises his hands in mocking surrender, moving out of your way. You glide back into position, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You don’t need his advice, you’ve been doing just fine without it for years. You’ll get it on your own.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Why is it,” Regulus drawls, coming into your room, “that when you mess up at practice, it’s still my problem to solve?” He sits on the edge of your bed, careful not to disturb the open bottle of nail polish you’re using. “I’m not even your partner right now, but both Coach and Sirius are complaining to me that you can’t sync up with him.”

You keep your eyes on your fingertips, sweeping the brush across your nails in careful, measured strokes. “I’m working on it.”

“What’s the problem?” He sounds more puzzled than frustrated. “Sirius is annoying, but he’s not actually an asshole. He won’t sabotage you.”

“I’m not accusing him of anything,” you say. “I just…I can’t get it right. I don’t know. He’s so different to you, and I can’t figure out how to make it work.”

“Well, you’d better figure it out soon,” Regulus replies, not without sympathy. “There’s only a couple of weeks until comp, and it seems like the both of you will need all the practice you can get together.”

You know he’s right, and that’s exactly what you’re dreading.

☆ ☆ ☆

The next practice goes about the same, the only difference being your coach’s mounting exasperation. Actually, no, there is one other change: Sirius’ movements become smoother, more sure, as he grows increasingly familiar with the choreography.

So basically, he’s getting better while you’re getting worse.

Though you all know there’s no time to waste with the competition coming up, Coach ends practice early in his irritation, letting you go with strict instructions to get your shit together before you meet again tomorrow. You promise him you’ll try, though you’re both coming to know that won’t be enough.

You take your time unlacing your skates, shrugging on your jacket and stopping to buy a hot chocolate from the vendor up front before going out into the brisk autumn air. You’d started this new routine after your first practice with Sirius, stalling so that he’d have a head start and you wouldn’t have to walk home in the same direction, but you take two steps outside before you realize your plan has been foiled.

“Coach will kill you if he catches you with one of those,” you say, and the cherry of Sirius’ cigarette burns orange as he takes a drag, eyes lighting with playful defiance.

He blows the smoke away from you. “You won’t tattle on me though, will you, sunshine?”

“Reg won’t like it either.”

“He knows,” Sirius says, as though Regulus’ opinion is of little concern to him. “You took your time in there. Ready to go?”

You don’t try to keep the suspicion from your face. “You were waiting on me?”

“I figure we could use some extra practice.” He drops his cigarette, stamping it out half smoked. “If you’re not too tired, I mean.” You give him an indignant look, and Sirius grins. “C’mon, it’s too cold out here for those leggings.”

You follow him reluctantly, sipping at your hot chocolate because damn it, he’s right. The wind had been cool when you’d gone into practice, but nightfall has stolen the little bit of warmth the sun provided. You wouldn’t be surprised if you woke tomorrow to find the trees prematurely bare of their leaves.

The Blacks’ house isn’t far, and your eager pace gets you there in a hurry. You’re thinking you’ll go to Regulus’ room as soon as you get inside, ditching Sirius and whatever humiliation he has planned for you, but when you approach the house, every window is dark.

“They’re at my aunt’s for dinner,” Sirius answers your unasked question, unlocking the door. “I begged off because of practice.” He laughs as you follow him inside. “Try not to look so happy about it, shortcake.”

You roll your eyes, starting up the stairs that go to the bedrooms. “When will Reg be home?”

“Late.” Sirius’ voice is close behind you. “You’re welcome to wait for him, of course, but we may as well make use of the time.” On the top step, you whirl, relishing the opportunity to look down on him for once.

“Fine. What are we doing here?”

You don’t know if you’d hoped he’d be intimidated, but Sirius appears as unbothered as always. “Like I said. Practice.” He brushes past you, leading the way into his bedroom. After a moment, you follow grudgingly.

Like everything about Sirius, his room is loud. Almost every inch of wall space is covered in band posters, medals from competitions, pictures of his friends. There are clothes strewn across the bed and shoes scattered about the floor, but if Sirius is even conscious of the mess, he doesn’t mention it.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

Sirius turns, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re surprisingly determined. “We need to figure out whatever it is that’s been holding you up,” he says. “We’ve gotta get past it.”

You feel like stomping your foot, but very maturely refrain. You’re about done with the subject of your failures for the day. “I don’t know what it is.”

“I think you do,” Sirius says cooly. “Wanna know how I know?”

“How?”

He grins. “Because you just admitted it.”

“You—I just asked how,” you splutter angrily.

Sirius gives you a knowing look. “Right, so it has nothing to do with you being afraid of me touching you?”

Your face heats. How could he know that? You look at him for a moment, and he looks back at you with that cool, even gaze, like he thinks he’s got you all figured out. As much as you resent him for it, he’s right. You’ve got no shot at a decent score in this competition if you can’t get past your mental block around Sirius. “I’m not afraid.” You roll your eyes, downplaying the admission. “I’m just not used to it, okay? I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but you’re not exactly a carbon copy of my usual partner.”

Sirius grins again, and for the first time you get the sense that he’s laughing with you instead of at you. “I have been made aware of that a few times over our lives, yes. But okay, you’re not used to it. Let’s get you used to it.”

You cross your arms over your chest, not sure where he’s going with this but fairly sure you won’t like it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to throw you until you can handle it without flinching. Sound good?”

You look at him like he’s stupid. “The rink is closed, and there’s nowhere for me to land here.”

“Sure there is.” Sirius pats his bed cheerfully. You stay right where you are. Something changes in his expression, and you think you might detect a bit of kindness behind his teasing tone. “C’mon, sweetheart. I don’t know what Reggie’s told you, but I don’t actually bite.”

You huff, but go to stand in front of him. He’s shed his coat, revealing the plain black shirt underneath, and the sleeves grip his biceps. Even in the poor lamplight, you can see his eyes changing colors like schools of fish as they swim. Now blue, now gray.

“Alright.” Sirius sets his hands on your waist, and you tense automatically. “See, that’s the habit we have to break. Relax for me, shortcake.”

His words certainly don’t help, but you do your best, unclenching the muscles in your stomach and legs.

“Perfect,” he says, then launches you into the air. You barely have time to gasp before you’re landing on his bed, springs squealing in protest. “Okay, next time, try to spin or something.”

“I wasn’t ready,” you protest.

Sirius laughs. “I know. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Let’s try to do it like practice this time, yeah? So you go over there,” he motions to the door, “and run towards me. When I throw you, try to spin if you can, but don’t try to stick the landing or anything. Just land on your butt.”

You roll your eyes, moving to the door. “Yeah, I’m in no hurry to break my ankle like Reg, thanks.”

He winks. “Just making sure.” He spreads his feet a bit, bracing himself. “Alright, let’s give it a try.”

It’s easy to remember Sirius is an older brother when he gets all bossy like this, but you comply, gaining as much speed as you can on the way to him before he’s gripping you around the waist, tossing you into the air. You manage a half-turn before your back end hits the bed.

“Better!” Sirius exclaims, beaming at you. “You still seemed a bit tense, but at least you didn’t try to jump by yourself. Again?”

You can’t help a little smile of your own as you nod, pushing up off the bed and repositioning yourself at the door.

☆ ☆ ☆

When Regulus gets home, he finds you sprawled on Sirius’ bed with his brother sitting beside you, both thoroughly worn out.

“Did you fix it?” he asks.

You grin at the ceiling, wondering if it’s your pride or Sirius’ you’re feeling in the air, or both. “I think so.”

“Coach might get the chance to be mad at me instead, tomorrow,” Sirius laments. “My arms are fucking dead. Too many throws and I might drop you on the ice.”

“Don’t break my partner,” Regulus says warningly.

“Yeah,” you second, hauling yourself into a sitting position and going to meet Regulus at the door, “please don’t.”

You can hear Sirius’ eyes rolling as he says, “I won’t. See you at practice tomorrow, shortcake?”

It’s harder than usual to muster up annoyance for the teasing nickname. “See you tomorrow.”

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roturo · 9 months

Text

BACK FOR MORE

lovers to exes to lovers, smut, breeding kink, name calling, possessive behavior, and more yk.

Loving Gojo Satoru had always come with its challenges. He was a Jujutsu Sorcerer, an unstoppable force, and his unwavering devotion to his duty often left you feeling like an afterthought. Lately, however, something had shifted, and the cracks in your relationship had grown wider. His once frequent messages had become rare, and the days between your meetings felt like an eternity– It was as though Gojo had become a ghost, lost in the relentless warfare against the curses that plagued the world.

"Gojo, we need to talk," you started, your tone dripping with resentment.

He raised an eyebrow– the use of his last name instead of his name or any nicknames making the air thickening with tension. "Alright, what's eating you up babycakes?" His teasing attitude never leaves him, someway always making you feel comforted by it.

You took a deep breath, struggling to keep your emotions in check. "I can't do this, Gojo. I can't be in a relationship where I'm constantly fighting for your attention, where I feel like I'm not enough."

"What do you mean by that?" He scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "I have responsibilities, you know that." He couldn’t believe you’re being serious, you always knew how important work is for him in these moments. "Come on, it's not that big of a deal."

Your anger flared, and your voice rose. "Not that big of a deal? It's been weeks since we had a decent conversation, and I haven't seen you in ages! Do you even care about us anymore?"

He crossed his arms, frustration etching his features. "You're overreacting, as usual. I'm doing my job, protecting people from curses. It's not personal."

You clenched your fists, feeling like you were about to explode. "It is personal, Gojo- We- Shit.. Our relationship is personal, and you're treating it like it's nothing! I can't do this anymore."

The tension hung heavily in the air as Gojo stared at you, his expression a mixture of frustration and disbelief. The love that once united you now felt like a distant memory, replaced by the searing anger of a relationship on the brink of collapse.

Gojo's expression hardened, and he took a step closer, his voice lowering dangerously. "You don't understand the dangers I face every day, the lives at stake. You're being selfish, demanding my attention when I have more important things to worry about."

Your anger flared, and you stepped forward to meet him. "Selfish? You're the one who's being selfish, Gojo! You're using your duty as an excuse to push me away, to avoid dealing with our problems."

He clenched his fists at his sides, his eyes blazing. "Maybe you're right, maybe we should just end this."

Weeks turned into months, and life without Gojo Satoru had become a strangely bittersweet existence. The initial days were a whirlwind of emotions, a mixture of relief and sorrow. You no longer felt the weight of his absence, but the void he left behind was undeniable.

At first, you struggled with the solitude, the quiet nights where his laughter used to fill the space, and the empty side of the bed that seemed to taunt you with memories. It was as if you had lost a part of yourself, and the healing process felt agonizingly slow. You tried meeting new people, but everything fell into broken pieces.

Shoko decided to invite you to a party to close those wounds, never expecting they’ll be fixed up in another way. The second you lay eyes on him your heart sinks. His bright blue eyes behind those small black glasses forming little crescents, his pouty lips curled up in an amused smile, his moles sitting on the side of his face. After that long, you would have thought that you had forgotten such details about him but you didn’t.

His smile faded when he noticed how long you stared. You locked eyes with him and somehow it felt different… Somehow you felt like you were going to be alright… Somehow you felt at home…

"You want something to drink?"

The sudden voice of your best friend woke you up from the staring fight between the handsome guy seated at the couch and your broken heart coming alive again. "Uh- Wha?- Yeah… Vodka is okay." Everything felt unreal, like it was a dream.

Shoko came back but couldn’t find you anywhere to be found. You thought that it would have been awkward that you wouldn’t know what to say but… The truth was that you didn’t need to say anything. You already spent hours speaking already. It was like you already said all the words in the world. And no words could ever make it right anyway. What was done was done and reality can’t be sugar coated anymore.

"I know you would come back for more baby-"

"No-" you lifted your hand to stop him. "Don’t. All I know is if I walk out that door again, I would be coming back for more again and again… So let this be the last time." But before you can open your mouth to say anything he crashes his trembling lips on yours. Trying so hard not to cry too. But the truth is that he missed you just as much.

You found yourself at his bed again.. at his mercy again. "I’m so sorry babycakes, please, let me show you how much you mean to be." When he pulls away to look at you, his eyes translate a thousand emotions. Guilt, sadness, remorse and maybe, just maybe, even love. Or maybe you only want to see that in his eyes.

This was against his life plans, against his priorities. But Gojo himself just knew that he wanted you. And that he didn’t want to let you go ever again, especially not to another guy. It was then when he realized that letting you go was probably the biggest mistake he had made in his young life so far. He realized you were his more important prioritie, he would kill the higher-ups if he needed to fuck- the entire world if you asked him too, all to have you in his arms again.

His hands vanished under your shirt, making their way up with the light fabric between his fingers, then taking it off entirely. You wouldn’t ask anything anymore. Even if this was only a one time thing, if it made you that happy only for a few moments after sorrowful past weeks, then you were willing to take everything that came after.

"I missed… this… so much…" he murmured against our skin when he kissed down to your cleavage.

Taking off your bra with one fluid motion, Gojo wanted to work on your breasts when he suddenly stopped.

You got scared that he’d interrupt everything he had just begun and just walk out of the door, but the thought was pushed aside quickly when he laid his mouth on your left nipple, cupping it with his wet lips.

"You had another man kiss your body?..." Gojo suddenly asked, pulling on your sensitive tip with his teeth.

"Ah!” you yelped. "Wha—" What is he talking about?

"Apparently no. Good."

He grinned before he left butterfly kisses on the breast he had just bruised like he wanted to apologize, making you shiver in pleasure. Rubbing his thumb around the right peak, he was grinding against your hips. You quickly got wet all over before he suddenly grabbed your other breast tightly, crushing his lips onto it like he had just discovered something he had never seen before.

"Gojo–!" You squealed.

It wasn’t painful at all for you, it was only surprising. But he just smirked against your skin, moving his tongue around your nipple, sucking and licking on it.

"Who am I?" he suddenly asked, bringing his head back up to your face again.

"What?" you breathed.

"What’s my name?"

"Sa…toru…?" It was more of a question than a confident answer.

"Yes, and I am the one who is doing this to you. The only one. Don’t you dare to forget it."

" ‘Toru, what are you…?!"

He unbuttoned your pants, removing them along with your panties before undressing himself entirely and tossing all clothes aside. Gojo then pressed his length against your entrance as he laid himself back on top of you, sliding his hard-on up and down your folds. A grin appeared on his face as he felt you dripping wet from his movements.

"I’m not even in you yet," he teased.

"Shut up."

He played with streaks of your hair, making sure every inch of your face was touched by his lips before he went down to your neck, his hips still rocking with yours as quiet moans fell from between your lips, but he was reluctant to fill you all up.

"God… I missed this pussy s’much"

But Gojo’s whining was cut off when he felt the sudden change of position– by the feeling of wetness and tightness around his length. You sunk down on him, slowly adjusting to his girth after such a long time. He held onto your hips with both hands, grabbing them tightly as you began to rock your hips back and forth, your upper body following wavy movements.

Gojo had almost forgotten how hot sex with you had always been during your time apart in the past weeks. He had almost forgotten how much pleasure you gave him just by looking at you, and above all, he had almost forgotten how beautiful you were. And he didn’t mean it in the content of sex only.

Why had his eyes just opened now? Why hadn’t he seen earlier what was right in front of him the whole time? He didn’t need anyone else. No matter how many girls he fucked, he would always only want and need you.

You leaned back, bringing yourself up just to slide down on him again and again while Gojo simultaneously thrusted upwards into you, but not with his full strength yet, and you knew it. He was still teasing you.

You cried out his name, desperately bouncing up and down on him, searching for the pleasure which was slowly turning you impatient.

"Kiss me now," he demanded.

When you didn’t make a move to, he stood his knees up, letting you fall on top of him with a little squeal. Chest on chest, body on body, he made sure that you wouldn’t withdraw again.

He grabbed the back of your head and crushed his lips back onto yours after having pulled you down to him. While you were occupied with kissing, Gojo brought his hips up with a hard thrust, causing you to gasp against his lips, and he smiled into the next kiss.

With another strong thrust which filled you up to the brim, he knocked the air out of your lungs and your face landed on his right shoulder, desperately breathing for air. He did it several times more, and every time, your voice would get a little higher and your breathing a little faster.

Your mouth was formed to a silent scream as you dug your nails into his skin when the overwhelming feeling shot through your body. You were soaking and pressed your opened mouth on Gojo’s shoulder, keeping your eyes shut when the pleasurable spasms took control of your body.

Gojo was holding you tightly during your climax, your walls tightening around him and nearly pushing him out of you. His arms rested on your back, giving you a reassuring feeling while he kissed your temple, your head still dizzy.

Gojo smiled at you and rolled on top without pulling out. Well, it was his turn now.

His length plunges inside your sopping center and his warmth pulls a small gasp from your lips. Finally reunited at last.

He seizes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. Both of your body match up a coordinated and pleasurable rythme. His rough and hungry hands convey how much he missed you and even after all this time, he still knows you by heart… Of course he does… and you do too because the truth is that… You and him… You could never forget each other. Forever damned to be together, forever cursed to be apart.

Your hands roughly pull on his hair as he thrusts up inside you, making you moan his name in a shaky whisper. He whimpers into the deep and messy kiss. Your hands run on his warm skin, desperate to find under your finger the soft sensation you used to know.

"Fuck baby you’re so tight" he moans "You’re gonna make me cum" He says pushing his hip up fucking you back while you both sync up, fucking each other and at a beatiful matching pace.

"Say you love me" you plead, desperately wanting to believe him.

"I love you. I love you y/n" his hoarse voice whistles in your ear.

"I love you too"

You feel him let go, huge amounts of thick cum rush inside of you, filling you up to the brink, reaching the deepest part of you, doubting how you’re not going to get pregnant to the amount of his seed feeling you up.

You throw your head back, toes curled up and eyes rolled back as you bite hard on your bottom lip, fully enjoying the delicious full sensation spreading to your body as your heat uncontrollable twitches in a powerful orgasm.

"I’m sorry sweetheart, I’ll make sure you never leave my side again, i’ll make youre I never leave yours."

#gojo satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #gojo jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo smut

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0-hoony · 3 months

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dreams come true? i sure hope they don’t. [ft. h.yj]

pairing : han yujin x f!reader <3 genre : so so crack. + lil bit fluffy cw/tw : uneditted + beverage mention + lmk if there r more sobs wc : 0.6k !! <3

“wait so let me get this straight- you like someone.. and instead of doing anything rational, or god forbid even half-normal about it; you’re trying out wikihow rituals to manipulate her dreams?!”

yujin at least has the decency to look sheepish. yeah okay so maybe he did have a crush on a certain someone, namely you, and yeah maybe he was a little too anxious to approach you.

and.. yeah maybe he happened to come across an article which taught him how to alter your dreams via a simple ritual.

writing out the name of your ~beloved~ along with a detailed description of the dream you wished for them to have on a piece of paper, place 9 orange and purple streaked moonstones on it and crumpling up the paper – was, as the site declared confidently, enough to be able to make yourself a constant presence in the dreams of whomever you wished.

as long as he remembered to loudly announce the exact minutes for which he’d known the aforementioned beloved before starting, that is.

well, yujin thought, it seemed harmless enough.

except some part of him did consider it necessary to do a couple of trial runs. he wouldn’t want you to start having dreams of, say, student council member ahn yujin or that new girl choi yujin who had been a little too friendly with you these past few days. there were a lot of yujin’s around weren't there..

which is what lead to you having a series of rather odd dreams. and the subsequent amount of time you spent lowkey freaking out about them.

“gyuvin i swear i wasn’t even thinking about greek gods at all before i fell asleep,” you vent to him one day at lunch, “but i was somehow a mermaid god or something?? AND hades, you know, the god of the underworld, was kinda beefing with me for no reason?!”

your friend who is unfortunately sworn to secrecy by yujin tries his best to distract you, “c’mon dreams are contractually meant to be weird; stop overthinking it! and besides-”

“BUT LISTEN when i woke up the first audio i heard, i think some video that yujin sent me, was about greek gods!! this has happened way too many times for me to put it off as a coincidence!!”

“i think you’re just delusional (like some other people i know..)”

you simply sigh out, “sorry, what was that?” not too willing to expend more energy in trying to convince him that your problem is very valid; and he’s just being very unsupportive of you right now.

"..." you suppose you'll have to make peace with the fact that your subconscious was probably just in a silly phase.

distant sounds of students leaving after evening classes, rustling of trees with a gentle breeze.. and a flick to your forehead?!

your eyes flutter open, more than eager to chastise whoever had thought it okay to break your comfortable reverie. but when your gaze lands on him, han yujin, you feel your complaints dying down. he’s holding out your favorite beverage to you; a soft smile adorning his face.

before you can let out a single word though, there’s.. another flick to your forehead?? what do people have against you..

your eyes flutter open (again?), more than eager to reprimand whoever thought it okay to break your .. wait had you been dreaming just now?

you find yourself with your cheek resting against a table. the one who flicked your forehead yet again appears to be yujin.

his eyes seem to twinkle slightly as he says, “i thought we were going to get our science assignment done yn? or did you plan on doing it while asleep? i so did not expect this from yo-”

“hey.,” you interrupt, “han yujin. you’re free now right? wanna go on a date with me?”

safe to say that you received a very positive response, especially with his now-flustered appearance.

gyuvin really should learn to keep his mouth shut, huh?

notes : @mellowdyverse MAIIII here u go love <3 i hope this wasnt horrific im struggling tm w writers block + [m.list] + woah the coloured text is going crazyy js ignore that hehe <3 song rec : nightwalker by ten tho. it has nothing 2 do w this but its so yumi likee

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uva124 · 4 months

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So yeah, I finished the drawing of Asha's redesign from Wish :D, maybe I'll make some changes in the future, but I'm happy to have finished it, it should be noted that I haven't seen the movie. , so I can't give my opinion on it yet, but I found it very interesting that their fandom is mainly made up of people who rewrote or made their own version of the movie, they are all very creative and it got me out of an artistic block. that I had a few months ago, but above all I found the rewriting of @annymation which is the one I have been most hooked on, so I wanted to do some redesigns of the characters coming out of its rewriting, that's why everything that has to do with the story of this version of Asha, as well as her personality and her world on which I base my drawing are the ideas and work of this account: @annymation

I'm just making a drawing of her character and how I would design her as well as sharing part of the process I had to do to draw her because, why not?

BOARD:

The first thing I had to do was put together a table full of references that reminded me of the character and things that I would like to add to her design, so I used milanote to do it:

-Looked for some Asha's concept art and save the ones I liked the most, and add the main colors that I used in the design. -I also created notes to write down the personality of the character and some of his data to have a better guide, I did a little research and found publications that talked a lot about Asha's discarded designs and how Disney workers had put that she had tribe ancestry Amazigh on his mother's side and since his father was from the Iberian Peninsula, that's why the next thing I wanted to do is research more about their culture. -I am not an expert on this topic, nor do I belong to the cultures from which Asha has ancestry, so you can comment on any correction regarding this topic, I wanted to implement details of this culture to her design and I would really like to give a correct representation :)

HAIRSTYLE

Continuing with the theme, I saw that the hairstyles in the Amazigh culture mostly had this type of colorful decorations on their braids and dreadlocks, that's why I also posted these reference photos for Asha's hairstyle.

-Finally I decided that Asha would not have all her hair full of braids or dreadlocks, but only a few accompanied by these decorations with a great variation of colors, although it was fun to sketch the many hairstyle options that I had in mind based on these concept art and other photos that I had saved

TATTOOS:

-Another detail that I liked was giving Asha some tattoos with designs from the Amazigh culture, because I saw that it was quite common for women to get them, the tattoo on her forehead is a symbol of protection against bad influences, that's why the The middle symbol is responsible for deflecting it in the 4 directions, I also added a similar one in Asha's right hand.

ASTROLOGY AND THE SPACE:

-An important part of Asha's rewrite is her knowledge of astronomy inherited from her father, especially with the stars for obvious reasons xd, so in addition to adding constellations to her dresses, research the meaning (or something like that) of the planets. Only 3 really reminded me of the character, which were: -Mars: Symbolization of the internal conquering function of moving forward, independent, self-determined, enduring failures with new energy, courage and energy to fight for your desires. -Saturn: Maturity, effort to solidly build realistic criteria, frustrations are transformed into objectives to continue growing, critical and realistic, far from getting frustrated when an objective does not work, you strive to move forward and obtain even more resistant and solid achievements, perseverance , and tenacity (I feel like yhis it the most similar to Asha :D) -Moon: protective role, feeling very vulnerable outside your known areas, feeling of security with your ties, importance of family ties. The one that reminded me the most of Asha was Saturn, that's why I drew those Saturn-shaped earrings :).

SUITS:

I looked for references and placed some on milanote, I noticed that the concept art was mainly divided into whether the dresses have lilac colors or warm colors, I decided to draw 2 models based on the discarded designs, although at first I thought of using only one color palette lilac and bluish, I realized that the reddish colors of her dress reminded me of Mars which has certain meanings that in my opinion coincide with Asha's personality. In the end I didn't decide what wardrobe she would primarily have 😅, but I like to think that in this version of Wish, Asha would have wardrobe and hairstyle changes like in some older Disney movies.

-These are some of the concepts that I mainly used for my version of the dresses

FINAL COMMENTS:

I am satisfied with the result, it was fun to make all this, although what I researched mostly seems little, it actually cost me several hours and I did it at night, so as a funny fact the next day I was explaining all this information to my mother and I felt like I looked like that:

(Make this drawing was so funny LMAO)

(Apologies if there are errors in my writing, English is not my first language and my writing is very basic)

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kitorin · 6 months

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sweet dreams.

in which, nanami kento finally goes on a long overdue vacation

contents. nanami kento x gn!reader, 2.965k words, fluff but then heavy angst (mcd and hurt no comfort), mentions of murder (true crime stuff) but no detail of it, reader is a coward and really can't handle horror (sorry that's just me projecting)

"What did you do?"

Guilt makes your lips purse, tongue swiping over them out of habit. You didn't want to call him, to interrupt him during the night shift he ever so loathes, contributing to the things he has to do.

But with demons lurking in the dark and the sense of impending doom beginning to latch onto you, it felt necessary, especially when fear decided to be quite clingy.

"I got scared."

A tired sigh comes from the phone. "How many times do I have to tell you not to watch anything disturbing at night?"

"This documentary got really interesting. I wanted to know what happened next..." Explicit content was fine, with Kento there to cling onto and his never-ending reassurance. Your husband watched these intense shows and documentaries without so much of a flinch, unfazed by quite literally everything displayed on the screen.

You, on the other hand, was a completely different case.

The slightest raise in volume managed to steal a scream from you, and jump scares had you flinching just a bit too hard. The mere build up and suspense of the music had your heart racing, even if nothing happened and it served as a little trick.

"I'm so sorry Ken, I'll hang up so you can focus on work." You're an adult, you shouldn't be so cowardly towards a mere genre of entertainment, and you should know better not to consume it.

Your thumb reaches for the red button, and your emotions hold you back, while rationality argues not to.

"No. Neither of us are going to be hanging up."

One part of you celebrates quietly, while another insists. "But you're working. Overtime nonetheless, and I know you hate those shifts. It's best to get everything done as soon as possible and get out of there."

His voice is raspy, garnished by a sultry tone. "Love, I belong to you, not my job. I do appreciate your thoughts, but you're more important than a mere paycheck."

Fuck. There it is, his eloquent, smooth way with words.

"Still. I can wait." That was a lie, though one you were willing to utter if it meant he'd prioritise his job. "Besides, what about that higher up you mentioned? The irritating one that's childish and overtalkative?"

Kento chuckles. "He's here, but he takes his job seriously and is highly capable. I'm on break anyways. Talk to me. If you can."

"I read about the Sapporo murder case. I still feel like the culprits from the case is going to sneak up on me. Or one of the zombies from Happiness." You adored the show and its cast, but god forbid you sit through another one of its jump scares.

"That's fine, it's normal. The point of this type of media is so scare. A lot of effort is put into making sure they elicit emotion." You cling onto every word he speaks, the world around you still there, only a bit blurry now. "Breathe in through your nose for four second, pause for two. Then breathe out through your mout for another eight."

Have you brushed your teeth?"

Kento hums as a response when you answer yes.

"Where are you right now?"

"In bed, but I need to clean up and turn off some lights before I sleep."

"Ignore it. I'll do it when I'm home."

"Are you sure?" There was no point in asking that, not when you'd rather not move away from the security of the doona. "You're going to be exhausted by the time you're home."

"Doesn't matter to me." Genuine indifference to the matter displays itself in Kento's tone. "I took a nap earlier, had a coffee or two as well. I'm going to be alright—" Something in the background echoes, though you could barely decipher what you were hearing, the furious tone of the voice concerned you.

"Who was that...? Is your boss mad at you? Wait but it doesn't make sense for a boss to give you a nickname—"

For a moment or two, Kento remained silent. "No, just an enthusiastic intern. He's talkative and sometimes loud but he's a good kid."

Your former worry dissipates, so quick that it almost seemed like it was never there in the first place. "Nanamin, was it?"

He sighs, the two of you know damn well that you'll refuse to forget that one.

"It's cute! Nanamin. I like how it sounds."

Voice softening, he replies with a chuckle. "I feel like you'd get along well."

"You should invite him over then. He must adore you if he's calling out to you that much."

"If that's true then I'd say the feeling is quite mutual." All you have is his voice, yet you can say without a doubt that he's beaming, a subtlety only you'll ever know— one of the many which compose the love between the two of you.

"Keep working." You whisper as a yawn claws out of your throat.

"Are you sure? Are you okay now?"

You nod, though he can't see it. "I am. Just listening to you helps a lot."

"I'm glad."

"Do your best at work, okay? And make sure you stay safe on the way home?" You hold back a grin, even though you're alone in your shared bedroom. "I have a surprise for you when you get home."

Kento piques with curiosity. "Really?"

"Yup, I think you'll love it." You stare at your bedside table, where tickets to Malaysia were stored. "I hope you do, at least."

"If it's coming from you of course I'll love it sweetheart." It's miraculous really, how you've been together for so long yet you have to suppress the urge to squeal over his sweet words. "My boss is going to start making me work again, good night darling. Sweet dreams, love."

You fall asleep with ease that night, this time with welcomed thoughts of spending time with Kento on the shore of Kuantan, running around whilst cherishing the cold, salty water licking at your ankles; rather than the intrusive thoughts from earlier.

"You could've kept talking to them. I wouldn't've told anyone even if it took a lot of time."

Fushiguro Megumi is examining the sharpness of his blade when he reassures his teacher Nanami Kento, not looking up from his weapon, seated by the railing of the bridge.

"I appreciate that, but it'd be wrong of you." He moves his shoulders in circles, loosening his tie to wrap it around his knuckles. "I can teach you other methods."

"Pardon?"

Nanami crouches in front of Megumi. "Your breathing changed when I told them how to." The student doesn't respond. "It varies from person to person, I've tested out a lot."

Megumi still doesn't answer, averting his gaze towards the weapon that he held down.

"Fushiguro - kun. Are you scared?"

The younger finally speaks once more. "... I guess." Hesitation presents itself in his words, barely stable and his reluctance to maintain eye contact. "I won't let that stop me from completing my tasks—"

"It's okay. You're merely sixteen, you're not even old enough to drink, nor get your driver's licence."

Megumi returns to silence.

"Look at me." And so Megumi does. "To be a child is not a sin. I'm perfectly fine with withdrawing you from this operation if it's too much."

"Wouldn't that get you in trouble?"

Indeed he would. He'd tolerate plenty of discipline and anger from the higher ups. But Nanami Kento knows too well what it's like to risk you and your peers for a 'greater good', at nonetheless a ridiculously young age too—an age where you're supposed to go to regular school and be regular, stupid kids figuring themselves out; not witnessing the death of the ones dear to your heart with the sight of their corpses forever imprinted into your mind, nor have the stench of blood memorised meticulously instead of historical dates or mathematical formulas.

If it were up to him, he'd prohibit such exploitation of children. None should be performing such tasks, even if born with an advantageous cursed technique.

If the higher ups adopted the same philosophy as him, Haibara would be alive and well, and Nanami wouldn't feel his stomach lurch whenever he sees a bowl of rice, nor flinch whenever he hears the mention of Geto Suguru.

'I don't mind if it means you'll be at ease. Gojo can protect me, and if I'm unable to extract you from this operation then I'll handle everything."

Megumi takes a deep breath. "I shouldn't run away. I'll do my best. I have Tsumiki I need to return to. We should go find Itadori now."

“If you say so then, but it’s still my duty to protect you.” With a final, strong tug he tightens his tie around his knuckles. “I can't guarantee any results, not in this instable world and career. What I can promise, is that I will protect you with my life."

A determined nod from Megumi is all he needs.

Quick and efficient; that's the plan. Shibuya was already a mess, and all he wanted was the security of your arms within the four walls he calls 'home'.

"Thank you for having us."

Megumi, the one with the messy, black hair speaks coldly, though very politely, his manners were courteous and so was Yuuji. They'd come to your door and introduced themselves as interns at Kento's company. Now, they were seated in your living room, on your couch.

"Don't mention it, Ken's always been fond of the interns." You already miss him, he must've stayed overnight at the company again. "Are you okay with first names?"

Both nod.

You smile. "So, Yuuji, Megumi, what have you come here for?"

Yuuji speaks first. "It's about Nanamin, I mean Nanami—"

Without malicious attempt you cut him off. "Nanamin is fine, I overheard you calling him that last night. He was fond of it, it was quite cute after all." You chuckle to yourself at it.

The boy swallows, appearing apprehensive. He sounded so enthusiastic last night, perhaps he was the type who needed to warm up towards people first.

"Well, um."

You don't say anything, giving him time to respond comfortably.

"Nanami sensei passed away last night." Megumi finishes what Yuuji couldn't.

Your heart drops.

Temptation to make an accusation of a prank attempts to claw out of your throat, but with how their expressions scream nausea and discomfort, it'd be rude to do so.

That explained why he never kept his promise of finishing up on chores, knowing Kento he would’ve done everything to make sure he made it home to do as he said he would.

"What happened?" It doesn't feel right— and it isn't at all, but you have to figure out the truth, even if this all doesn't seem real.

"There was a fire." Yuuji whispers, barely loud enough and coherent with the tremble of his voice. "And he didn't make it out in time."

You remain silent, so does Megumi. Yuuji bites his lip, suppressing what seemed to be a sob.

"I see."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If only—" It drowns out in his bawling. "It was my fault. He—"

He completely lacked incoherency now, hiccuping as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"He helped us first." Megumi once again continues Yuuji's words. "But they recovered his body, we brought you his ashes."

He pulls out a package from his shoulder bag, wrapping it to reveal a pale blue funerary urn. Megumi places it onto the table.

"I'm sorry. If I had been capable of protecting myself he wouldn't've died saving me."

Your gaze meets Megumi’s, you're too afraid to properly acknowledge the urn, where your boyfriend was supposedly resting.

Silence permeates the air, Yuuji bites his sleeve to suppress his crying and Megumi breathes shakily.

"Don't apologise. You have no reason to. Neither of you." You've barely known the two, but the way Yuuji was sobbing broke your heart, and how both seemed to genuinely believe they caused Kento's passing. "It's not your fault. I don't think it is, and he would agree with him. He made the choice to help you, because he cared deeply for both of you. You can cry freely, I won't stop you." You muster a smile, hoping it'll be comforting in some sort of way. They're only kids, they can't be blaming themselves for the death of another they didn't cause.

Yuuji's teeth release the sleeve of his hoodie, hiccuping out what sounded like a thank you. You push a tissue box towards him, to which he accepts the offer.

"You idiot…” Megumi sniffles a bit.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be fine.” You pat him on the back, rubbing it too. You give him your phone, opening a new contact. “I’d like to invite you two to the funeral, can I have your contact details? In the meantime I’ll make some tea.”

You earn a nod, and are quick to retreat into the kitchen, hand holding your mouth shut as you slowly cry, pleading for Yuuji and Megumi to be unable to hear.

"Kento! We're here, at Kuantan!"

After a long flight and travel, you finally arrived at your destination, you had dropped your luggage off at the accommodation, the urn Megumi had given you was held up against your chest.

I've always wanted to go to Kuantan, in Malaysia. One day I'd like to build a house on a secluded beach and live there. Of course with you, if you were okay with it.

You take off your sandals, tossing them away as you approach the shoreline, the coolness of the water catching you off guard. You continue walking, until it reaches halfway up your calves.

Off goes the lid of the urn, and you toss the ashes into the beach, watching the waves swallow Kento whole. It's not long before the urn is empty, you've never had to scatter someone's ashes, yet it felt like something was missing.

In all honesty, you have no idea if Kento wanted to be cremated, you've never touched on the subject of death, probably because the two of you were so young.

But something tells you this is the right decision. Kuantan's beautiful, and he wanted to go when work and money permitted him to do so. He'd loved to read a book under the shade of that large tree over there, and would've wanted to try fishing at the rock ledge nearby. It was just the two of you here, even better.

Fuck.

As you watch him swim into the ocean, you notice the tears threatening to spill. You don't bother trying to avoid it, not that you would've been able to.

"It's not fair!" You yell, out into the ocean. You don't blame Yuuji, or Megumi, or anyone, but you're still livid. "I miss you, I miss you so much that it gets hard to breathe."

The ring box feels heavy in your pocket.

"If you had to leave this world early you could've done it later." Your cry becomes a sob. "Just one month, then I could've fucking proposed. I don't need a honeymoon or marriage, I just want your fucking answer."

In an ideal world, you'd like to think that he would've accepted without hesitation, but that fantasy doesn't compare to the pain of remaining oblivious to his answer forever.

"Who's going to comfort me now? Who am I going to spend the rest of my life with? Who am I going to cook dinner with? What about Yuuji and Megumi? They had to finish their internships without you. Do you know how hard Yuuji cried when he came to tell me you passed away?"

By no means are you mad at Kento, you could never. But anger that slowly accumulated in your heart for the past few months, and had erupted. The empty coldness of your bed stings, and the amount of cutlery required being halved overwhelms you with misery. You can’t even laugh at his high school photos anymore, the amusement from his ridiculous haircut can’t triumph over the fact that he had passed away a mere ten years later.

You’d much rather store it all away, each and every possession and photo of the man. The sight of his favourite mug serves as a harsh reminder that morning coffee with him will never happen. Listening to old voice mails seemed reassuring and almost lulled you to sleep, until you had to come to terms that he was truly gone once more.

But at least sound can be captured.

What about his scent? Eventually his clothes would lose their scent, they probably were already on that course, even with your refusal to wash them. Touch can’t be preserved, you can cling onto the memory of your skin against his for as long as you want, but you’ll never truly experience it again.

“Goodbye Kento!” Despite your miserable state you pull yourself together just enough so you can see him off with a smile. “I love you, so so much. More than anything in the world, I always will! Thank you, for being there. Th-thank you for loving me.”

You've lost the energy to yell, throat now hoarse. You venture deeper into the shore, not caring about your clothes getting wet, as your face gets soaked with your own tears.

Who's fault is it? Was it the culprit of the fire (if there was one)? Or perhaps yours, for not proposing earlier. Maybe then he would've been safe and sound in Kuantan, after taking leave. Perchance it was the heavens deciding they’d rather just not authorise him to spend the rest of his name.

Whoever it was, it doesn't matter. Nothing could bring back the warmth of Nanami Kento.

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins, @pokkomi, @chigirizzz

#nanami my beloved #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk #nanamin #jujustu kaisen #fluff #angst #nanami angst #nanami fluff #kento nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento fluff

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vasito-de-leche · 2 months

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;R1999 6 - Relationship Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons about 6 in a romantic relationship.

I was struggling soooooo hard with another 6 request so I had to get this post out of my system fist before tackling that one

Okay, first of all! I don't see 6 as the type of person who would be that interested in having a relationship, at least not beyond what is expected of him as the leader of Apeiron. It's the least of his priorities as of now.

Part of it is largely due to his responsibilities--he knows that he cannot afford to show any sort of favoritism, and he is much too thoughtful to force someone he cares about under such pressure, simply because he harbors feelings for them. It's very ironic that the one thing that defines his entire life and existence is also what keeps him from seeking any deeper relationships. 6 knows more than anyone that the loneliness of his title would be extended to his partner, and so, he has no actual firsthand experience in romantic relationships other than what he might've studied while in reclusion.

Of course, this isn't to say that he's entirely inept when it comes to socializing or all sorts of relationships. He is the best at being 6 for a reason, as much as he dislikes it.

We know that he loves his people, if his devotion to his role of leader is anything to go by. And he clearly cares about his friendship with 210, 37 and Sophia, as strained or complex as these dynamics may be, as he makes sure to retrieve the crown that they made for him each and every day that it's stolen. He loved his aunt Alma too, she played a big role in his upbringing after all.

So 6 isn't a stranger to love, but he is very passive about it.

To describe 6 as "passive" could be seen as an insult, especially after what his character event showed us in relation to his struggle against fate, but I think there's a key difference to the passive nature that is presented between 6 prior to receiving the Revelation and after he settles in as the new leader. His initial lack of action was fueled by resignation, a fear for the inevitable fate his bloodline carries. But now, he knows that refusing to act is sometimes necessary to maintain the harmony within the island, this is why he's described as a mediator. Love can happen, but there's no reason to upset the precarious balance he maintains by indulging in romance.

On the subject of 6 developing a crush.

6 is an extremely introspective man with a very good grasp on his own feelings and thoughts--even more so now that he's obtained the Revelation! If he has a crush then trust me, he knows. He notices the fondness he has for you the moment those feelings start blooming in his chest.

And he's not going to do a single thing about it.

He's not going to act upon any of his feelings. He's not going to let anyone find out, for the sake of maintaining this perfect balance. His behaviour remains the same, no signs of being flustered whatsoever. There are no fleeting glances, no hands brushing on accident. He doesn't stare at you from afar, wondering if you could ever love him, pining and yearning for your attention.

That doesn't happen, not in public.

Just like every other detail about his life, his thoughts of you are kept private, for him to ponder on whenever he's alone in his room, meditating. The outside world has no business bearing witness to these feelings--you are special to him and so, he keeps the memory of you safe and sound. 6 is much too mature to actually pine and yearn, but he does like to wonder and explore other possibilities, another life in which he's not burdened by fate, in which he's given the choice to find his own soul number for as long as it takes. Another life in which he can openly confess without fearing for what might happen to you should you accept him.

I like to think that these little fantasies help him tolerate the stress of the daily routine, it's something nice that gives him solace. When he's alone, his existence isn't defined by a number nor the history of his family, he can just be at ease and dream of better things.

I want to stress the fact that he wouldn't confess, no matter how strong his feelings are. Even if you happened to reciprocate, 6 would always prioritize the stability of Apeiron and turn you down for your sake and everyone else's. 6 would actually prefer to be close friends with his crush.

On the subject of dating 6.

I like to think that for 6 to start considering the idea of courting you, you have to actually debate him.

Not a battle of attrition like the debates 210 insists on having, but a fair and honest discussion to give him proof and solid arguments that could help him ease into the idea of dating someone for love, rather than duty. Something like this would really ease 6's mind, being able to get to know you better through the way you defend yourself and the love you hold for him, as well as weighting the public's reaction. Two birds in one stone. If you manage to do that, then there's no reason for him to object.

I don't know what I like the most out of these options though, the idea of 6 choosing to give a proper confession in private to finally share everything he's kept to himself, so that you may accept all of him at his most honest and vulnerable. Or him not confessing, choosing to invite you to his study and enjoy a moment of respite in absolute silence, knowing that there's nothing keeping you two from being together. So whichever floats your boat!

When it comes to actually dating him, not much would change.

6 understands that there's been a considerable shift in his life, but his lack of experience and solitary lifestyle would lead him to continue with his routine--if you want to see him, then you'll have to seek him out like you've always done. He's more than content knowing you're aware of his feelings and wouldn't really seek to change anything else, so it's entirely up to you to communicate and discuss what you'd like out of this relationship. He'll be more than glad to listen and accomodate you as much as he can.

You taking the initiative in this might also fuel him to share the things he'd like to do! Again, this passive nature doesn't come from shyness, but duty. I can see him being open to anything and being very direct about his own needs, as long as he can continue to separate his personal life and time with you from his time outside and his responsibilities.

Overall, dating 6 is a very calm experience! He never got the chance to know himself without the pressure of the Revelation, but he enjoys getting to know you instead. While most of the time he simply asks you to sit with him and relax, he puts the effort into finding time to spend with you, even if it's just walking together from one place to another before both of you must tend to your respective duties.

On the subject of his partner not being from Apeiron.

The way I see it, 6 is a little more lenient with certain aspects--unlike 37, for example. I don't see her capable of being in a romantic relationship with an irrational number, and getting to trust someone from outside who isn't specifically aiming to adapt to the scriptures will take a long time, but 6 is a little more flexible under the proper circumstances.

I believe this is the case because of his Bond: Morning voice line!

...One should never parcel off the loaf, for it's a violation of the scripture. But we are not on the island. So, please enjoy the freedom.

So the moment this pressure of responsibility is lifted from his shoulders, I think he would be open to the possibility of his partner being literally anyone. Because of the Revelation, I don't think 6 is blinded by faith like other members of Apeiron are, if else he's burdened by the contradictions and paradoxes that are natural in the world.

Not sure how he would feel with a human partner though! Chapter 05 only says that humans and mankind as a whole are dismissed entirely as "imaginary numbers," forbidden on the island, and there's no specifics on how they feel about mixed arcanists.

Round of cute things.

Literally just a round of cute things that 6 would do or enjoy because I don't know how to incorporate them onto the post in a fancy way.

His crown was made to keep his hair out of his face, but we can see that it's not doing a very good job lol. I think 6 would really find it charming whenever his partner tucks his hair behind his ear so they can get a look at his face--he's much too used to hiding and keeping to himself, so wanting to be seen by you is a pretty new experience. It's also a very casual and innocent gesture, so whenever he feels like getting you to pay attention to him (more than often as a way to excuse himself out of some other conversation) he will allow his hair to drape over his face hoping you'll notice.

6 isn't big on public displays of affection. Just sitting next to you is more than enough for him--but if he happens to notice you get lonely or make cute eyes at him, he will scoot close until your shoulders bump into each other. If 6 is feeling particularly cuddly, he will hold your hand.

But behind closed doors, 6 is very partial to kissing the top of your head or your temple. It's a very gentle kiss, he doesn't even pucker up, just closes his eyes, gently rests his lips there and hums to himself. And he could stay there for a long time if you let him.

If 6 is feeling restless for whatever reason, I can see him asking you to read something for him, so he can concentrate on the sound of your voice and nothing else. It's very soothing to him. He prefers that you read something he can tune out, as opposed to telling him something he'd like to pay attention to--like your thoughts or how your day has been.

Oh! Also, I don't see him as the type to want matching accessories or material things like that, but if you were to give him a gift or something to match with you, he would specifically ask you to keep it simple--nothing gilded, nothing shiny, nothing that is easy for seagulls to steal. Something like a little string bracelet, if possible in your favorite colors rather than his--it might be just a small fragment in a world of matters, but it means so much to him.

Also also, 6 does notice a lot of your gestures or expressions, the little things about you that often go unnoticed. The way you might scrunch your nose, tilt your head, fiddle with your hands, tap your feet--anything.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 6 #reverse 1999 x reader #6

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sweetismyaddiction · 1 month

Text

SUCROSE

Paring: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Visiting his mother that likes you dearly, to Spencer’s happiness, taking care of each other makes butterflies go all over the place. Asking for advice for friends. (They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love)

Word account: 1905

Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, anxiety, possessiveness?, pain, menstruation, innocent kisses?, talks abour orgasm...

A/N: English is not my first language. Reblog, like and comment. I am accepting suggestions for next parts. Please be nice. The Gif is not mine. Credits to the oner

Chapter 3: Narcotics, care and family

Spencer's Point of View

She figured out my narcotic problem.

She didn’t ask a single thing, she respected and is supportive. I love how she takes care of me. I remember when she put the pisces together, I was in pain and was so rude to her, I wonder if someday I will deserve her.

—----------------

I was having a bad day, a bad week, and treated my friend in a way she didn’t deserved.

“I am sorry, I am really sorry”

She kept looking at me, in her door. I felt gray again, I felt worse than I was feeling.

“You never told me your name.”

“What?” Confusion was spread across my face.

“You never told me your name Sugarpout. We talk for months, but we have never said our names, we bonded, became friends and never had asked for names.”

She was right, now that she said it… I think about her constantly, I know so many things about her as she knows about me, and we never asked, it never even crossed my mind, it was so easy to be around her, I craved the company so much that I never remembered this little detail, such an important detail.

“My name is Spencer, Reid. Spencer Reid. What is your name?”

—----------------------

In this instant I had major head and back pain, thanks to the last unsub. At least we got him.

“Hey Sugarpout, I did a lot of research, and you basically can't take any painkillers meds. But luck you, I have a few tricks, and I’m gonna take care of you.”

Say the girl owner of my soul, invading my home, isn't she satisfied with invading my dreams and thoughts?

“Would you prefer to lay on the couch or in your bed?”

“Couch” I will have so many problems controlling my imagination and body responses if we get to my bedroom now.

“Leave your head like… this”

She adjusts me, and starts rubbing my forehead with some oil. I love her touch. I closed my eyes, starting to relax and feel better with the delicate massage she was giving, so caring, so… everytime was harder not loving her the way I do love. The selfish way I love. Wanting her all for myself.

—-------------------------------------

Y/N’s Point of View

“May I open a little of your shirt?”

He silently agrees, my hands slowly travel off his forehead, the sides of his face, his neck… starting to open a few buttons so I can reach and massage his shoulders more properly. My fingers do their magic putting pressure on his skin, feeling the tension slipping away second by second, every time my skin runs his skink, more comfortable is set between us.

“Feeling better?”

“You always make me feel better.”

“You should rest a little, I can keep you company if you want.”

“I would love you staying here with me.”

And so I did, I stayed for the whole day. Light music, reading, healthy snacks and lots of water, just enjoying our time together.

“I am going to see my mom this weekend.” He pauses, pressing his lips in a flat line raising his eyebrows a little looking at me as if considering his idea. “I… you know… my mom… would you… do you want to… go with me?”

“To see your mom?”

“Yeah. I mean, you don’t have to. I know she… well…” He laughs without humor. “It wouldn't be your first time seeing her, but I know…”

“Sugarpout, I would love to go with you, I want to go. I like your mother.”

He relaxes, and looks at me, in a way I don’t know how to describe, I just know that it makes me feel good, better, makes my skin light up and the butterflies alive in my whole body.

—------------------------------------

Spencer’s Point of View

Adoration, love… There are not enough words to describe my feelings for her, for Y/n, my Sugar, as I am her Sugarpout.

She made a few things to eat, and she called the doctor in the clinic to know if it was ok and what she could or couldn't make. So now we have a lot of cookies, cupcakes, cakes and brownies. She made sure to have enough for everyone in the clinic, and a side a special treat to my mom, in a special box.

“Hey mom”

“Ah, Spencer”

“Hi Mistress Reid. It's good to see you again, we bring a little something for you.”

“A present?”

“Yes, a special present for you Mistress Reid”

My mother's face lights up a little when opening the box. That is my Sugar, always bringing light to every place she goes… Maybe someday she will be truly mine.

“Oh, dear, you didn't have to…”

“It was a pleasure, as you can see, I put phrases from a few of your favorite books, so you can read and devour the words.”

“That is very thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

They got to talk, a lot of talking, my mother even showed my baby pictures, to my embarrassment. But I couldn't feel that bad when they smiled so happily, the womens of my life.

“You are a very wise women”

Sugar compliments my mother, she is always so gentle and true. She is called by one of the doctors and excuses herself.

“I see the way you look at her. She is a good girl.”

“She is.”

“You should put a ring on her, a rare creature like her… is meant to be taken care of, I can see she cares about you.”

“We are friends, mom.”

“A mother knows Spencer. A mother always knows”

“Hey Sugarpout, sorry about that, the doctor just wanted to be sure about the ingredients. We don't want anyone having allergic reactions. Care to keep teaching me Mistress Reid?”

“I would love.”

“Once a professor always a professor.”

She pays attention to everything we say, to the whole conversation, until it is time for us to go.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N’s Point of View

Cramps.

The every month torture that people blessed with uterus go trough.

I don’t have the will to move, everything hurts, I am tired all the time and soon there will come the blood. I am thinking about calling in sick, or just losing the day… but I do need the money. Oh God, why wasn't I born a billionaire?

A knock at my door and a voice take me out of my sad thoughts.

“Sugar? Are you okay? Haven't heard of you yet today, I am starting to get worried”

“No, nothing is ok” I make a crying voice, to add more drama.

“May I come in?”

“Yes, use your key, I don't want to move”

Spencer cautiously entered my place, looking around, the view was terrible. I am swollen, feeling tired, dark circles under my eyes, some pimples… and even worse, I am in pain.

“What is wrong Sugar?”

“I am awful and everything hurts.”

Spencer comes closer and hugs me, the warmth of his hand is in the exact place, making the terrible pain more supportable.

“Oh, don't you dare move your hand. It is the perfect spot.”

“As my Sugar wish. Now. Can you tell why everything hurts? What is the problem?”

“The problem is that seems like the Devil is using needle high heels, knife needle high heels, made a fireplace and is dancing around my uterus.”

“So… cramps?”

“You say it like that because you ain't the one feeling it.”

“Oh, no Sugar. I am sure this is really horrible.”

He places his warm lips on my forehead in a tender kiss.

“There is anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Just keep your hands in place. It is good.”

“Orgasm. It can help with the pain. When you orgasm, your body releases chemicals like oxytocin and dopamine that act as painkillers.”

“Are you saying that next time you are in pain I should give you an orgasm?”

“What?”

I laugh a little about his comment, poor Doctor Reid, someday I may kill him out of embarrassment.

“It is ok Sugarpout. I am just not in the mood for any sex activity. I am swollen and ugly.:

“You are as beautiful as ever. You are always beautiful”

“Thank you Sugarpout, you are always so gentle.”

We stay a moment in silence, just in each other's arms, but he has to break this moment even if neither of us want to.

“Are we not going to work today?”

“We are going to work today.”

“Good, cause I kinda just passed by to see how you were doing. I got to go to the office. But, if you want, I can call back and see if I can take the day off…”

“No, no Spencer, you should go to work.”

“I really don't mind staying if you want me too.”

“I will be fine. Go make the others life more sweet Sugarpout”

I feel him relaxing against me, and stopping holding me really slowly.

“Do not worry, you are going to have a lot of time to take care of me. It can last fifteen days, ten days, a week… my cramps ain't regular. In the end it will be all fine.”

“Hope you get better as soon as possible.”

“Good work Sugarpout”

And then, he really has to go.

—---------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer’s Point of View

I am trying to concentrate on the job, but my mind always comes back to my Sugar, I know she said it will be fine, and she can be a little dramatic sometimes, but it does not change my concern.

“Ahn… hey Emily, what do you usually do to alleviate your period cramps?”

I did a lot of research about the subject, everything I could find, but with experience I learned that just reading isn't enough and every human experiences stuff in different ways.

“What? Where did it come from?”

“What am I losing?”

Emily is uncertain about answering Morgan, why he always shows… well he did grow up with sisters.

“I was asking Emily, how could someone alleviate period cramps.”

“Is this about the door girl?”

“What girl?”

“Sweet girl, that lives right across Pretty Boy and has his keys.”

“You’re kidding me!”

“Ask him.”

“Well, Spencer?”

“Yes, she is my neighbor, she is a really nice girl, and she has an extra key to my apartment.”

“If she is just a neighbor, why the cramps questions?”

“She is also a friend.”

“A very dear friend.”

“You should invite her to go out with us. I will love to know the girl occupying the Doctor Reid thoughts”

“Are you going to answer my question or just amuse yourselves with the new information?”

“Ok, I may have a few tips, but you will need to see what works for her, it isn't always the same.”

“And I can give you a few tips on how to survive this period, cause women can be savage, and I ain't talking savage in a nice way.”

Prentiss reprimanded Derek with a look and a little hit in his head.

I paid very close attention to what they had to say, so I was more prepared when I came back home, and being able to take care of Sugar, my Sugar. Doing my best to make her the more comfortable as possible, and the smile bright in her face was the best part of my whole day.

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

Tag List: @mikitsuki

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #criminalminds #dr spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic

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scribbledghost · 6 days

Note

Hello, it is I, here to make more angst request with fem! Simon. Now, I have a hate/love relationship with misunderstanding trope, but here's my idea. Fem! Simon has been spending a lot of time with a fellow soldier due to an important mission they are working on together. They have been texting frequently and meeting up outside of their usual work hours to discuss the mission details. Her girlfriend notices the increased communication between fem! Simon and this soldier. One day, she sees a text on fem! Simon's phone from the soldier that says, "Can't wait to see you tonight! 😊" This message, taken out of context, causes the reader to feel insecure and suspect that something romantic might be developing between fem! Simon and solider. You can go on from there-

Simon tried so hard to keep things as tactical as possible with the Sergeant she'd been tasked with collaborating with. The mission unfortunately required frequent communication and meetups to discuss logistics, added to another misfortune of not being able to really include you due to the classified nature of it. It irritated her, truthfully, because now the bright-eyed, fresh Sergeant had been getting a little too close for her liking. No matter how many times Simon offhandedly mentioned she had you, her girlfriend, waiting for her at home.

She should have known it would cause trouble.

You'd been distant lately. The past few days, as a matter of fact. And Simon couldn't pinpoint why. She suspected her frequent meetings with the Sergeant had something to do with it, but she didn't know the specifics.

"You're upset," she says one evening, coming up behind you as you're making dinner to wrap her arms around your middle. It's not a question.

"I'm fine, love," you respond softly. Too softly.

"You're not," she says, reaching past you to turn the stove off as she turns you around to face her. "Talk to me, love. Please. Let me help."

You sigh, looking up at her.

"This... assignment you've been on."

"Yeah?"

"With the new Sergeant."

"Mhm."

You hesitate, then sigh again before explaining.

A few nights prior, Simon's work phone had lit up when she stepped out. You'd managed to catch a glimpse of the message on the screen, a "Can't wait to see you tonight! 😊" from her work partner.

Simon hadn't entertained the thinly-veiled attempt at flirtation, and had simply responded with a quick "Keep it tactical. And don't forget the case files I requested."

But you hadn't seen that part.

So, she shows you.

She doesn't hesitate to pull her phone out, unlocking it and scrolling to the messages in question. She feels safe letting you scroll through the message log - it's all coded jargon anyway, as specifics are only discussed in person for security reasons.

"Keep tryin' to tell her I'm taken," Simon explains, nudging her nose against your temple as you look through the texts. "Won't take the hint."

Her texts reflect as much:

Sgt: Drinks tonight?

Simon: Negative. Night in with my girl.

Some days later:

Sgt: Anything a girl can do to entertain herself around base?

Simon: Wouldn't know. The missus and I live off-base. Get that report I asked for?

The exchanges go on.

"I... I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions," you say softly. Simon softly shushes you in response.

"Don't apologize," she says. "I know how it must have looked."

After a moment of silence, she pulls back, putting both hands on your upper arms as she gazes at you intently.

"Y'know you're the only one I want, right?" she asks. When you only nod and cast your gaze aside, she tucks a finger under your chin to redirect you back to her.

"I mean that," she says. "Don't want anyone else. Never have. Never will. I'm serious.''

As you pull her in for a kiss, Simon's already formulating plans to really get it through this Sergeant's head that she's a (very happily) taken woman.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #fem reader #fem simon #ghost scribbles

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sky-kiss · 4 months

Text

Shadowheart/F!Tav: Ephemeral

A/N: Named Tav. And this is highly indulgent and just for me lol. But y'all can look if you want. Post Haarlep encounter. Because we stan a kinky queen.

Shadowheart/F!Tav: Laughing, Thriving, Gloating, at your Expense (Affectionate)

"Far be it from me to gloat," Shadowheart says, gloating. "But I recall speaking to something like this—what was it again?"

The rush of blood in Joi's ears makes it difficult to think, let alone reflect. She tries to speak and ends up swallowing the words, chin dropping to her chest. It's a frankly surreal sensation—there are hands on her body, cupping, caressing, someone is mouthing at her throat…but it's nothing. The phantom pleasure is equal parts too much and too little, nerve strokes without pressure.

Shadowheart hums. The heat of her makes it…better or worse, it's difficult to tell. She is blessedly solid, real, when she presses close, fingers stroking through Joi's hair. "Ah, I recall. Unlikely to dispense carnal pleasures out of the goodness of their heart…does that sound correct? Feel free to nod your agreement. You seem quite…preoccupied."

Joi nods.

Some rational part of her brain realizes the half-elf is within her rights to feel this superiority—she had warned her about Haarlep's intentions. It's just that there's another part, the one not currently buzzing with abstract pleasure, that wants to protest. She'd had no choice—a lie, there'd been no reason to break into the House to start aside from her own wounded ego—but to play with Haarlep.

"I thought," the tiefling starts, only to stop, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning. "You'd be at least somewhat bothered."

Shadowheart's lips curl up, bemused, a touch patronizing. "Not at all—I quite like you like this. And I rarely get the chance to just…observe." The phantom hands shift down her body, and she suffers the jarring impression of her legs being spread, even as she stands perfectly still. Something must show on her face because Shadow laughs again, walking her further into the alley. The cleric has the presence of mind to tuck them in a little alcove. "Go on—don't stop for my sake." She drags her lips across Joi's cheek. "If you can summon the presence of mind, I'd welcome any particularly sordid details."

Joi shivers, screwing her eyes shut against the sensation of something pushing inside her. Her mind struggles to adjust, trying to justify the texture, the duality of feeling achingly full and empty all at once.

"My, that must have been good." Shadowheart's smiling, too damnably satisfied. She eases Joi's legs apart, slotting herself between her spread thighs.

"Just…" she chokes. Shadowheart saves her with another kiss, swallowing her moan. It's a little like being at sea, the sensation of being rocked, something thrusting lazily into her. For the briefest moment, she feels the link to Haarlep solidify. They're more present, sticking inside her head, dragging their teeth across her mind. Their hand, her hand, ghosts down her stomach. Shadowheart marks its path, smirking, tangling their fingers together.

"If your only intent is to stand here slack-jawed, I'll be tempted to put your mouth to better work." The cleric murmurs, and something in her tone, dark and authoritative, makes Joi clutch around nothing.

And she feels something like Haarlep's approval, violently hungry, driving themself down on their partner in response to Shadowheart’s words. It steals the air from Joi's lungs.

"You try holding a civil conversation when you're being…" She hisses, hugging her lover tighter. A shock of electric pleasure kisses along her spine, the sensation of being stretched to her breaking point, the phantom pleasure pressing and pressing for just a little more. Haarlep coos in her head, and she feels the point where her body gives. There should be nothing left, but Haarlep ensures she takes it. Joi fights to swallow, voice hoarse. "No elegant way to say you’re feeling...very full."

"Mmm. Any guesses what you're full of?" Shadowheart laughs at her incredulous expression. "Not so strange a question, is it? I'd like to know if I'll be competing with an Orthon to satisfy you in the future."

"You'd rise to the occasion."

"But of course. But it would necessitate a touch more effort." She hums against Joi's lips, rocking against her thigh. Shadow chews her lower lip, mischief twinkling in her eyes. "Do we think it's Raphael fucking you, sweet one? Should I be jealous?" Joi gasps, trying to push the image out of her head. "Of course, if you can't explain what they're doing to you…well, there's always the option of showing me later?"

"Yes."

"No need to convince you at all. Shame." Shadowheart pats her cheek. "You’re so eager. It’s sweet."

It's openly patronizing. It still manages to twist something low in the tiefling's belly, naked want flooding through her. On principle, Joi grumbles, "You're upsetting Haarlep."

Shadowheart laughs. "Liar. But I shan't keep you so…mentally occupied. Allow me."

Her lover's hand steals under her robes and between her legs, adding a blessed solidity to the otherwise ephemeral pleasure.

#shadowheart #bg3 fanfiction #shadowheart x tav #my writing #bg3 smut #i dunno i had an urge #realizing that i have basically never wrote anything with waifu #this must be changed #baldurs gate 3 #bg3

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dark-frosted-heart · 8 months

Text

I Want to Know Every Inch of You - Roger Barel

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Roger: Oh, you already collected quite a bit.

Kate: All that’s left is you, Roger.

I show Roger the data I collected for Crown’s measurements.The other day, Victor asked me to go to everyone and I’ve been getting to them one after another.

Roger: It’s pretty detailed. It’ll be useful for researching curses.

Satisfied with the documents, Roger pats my head.

Roger: Well then, let’s get to my measurements.

Kate: Right. Now if you’ll excuse me.

I place the measuring tape against Roger when he removes his vest.

Roger: Oh? You’re pretty good at that.

Kate: I’ve been measuring the others so I’ve got experience.

(Anyway…Roger’s really muscular)

I was aware of his physique before he removed his vest, but it’s even more noticeable when he’s lightly dressed. Not just his abs, but his neck, shoulders, and back muscles are well-defined too.

(When do you use these muscles…)

I manage to finish taking his measurements despite being distracted by his burliness.

Kate: Next up is asking about your medical history. How much do you drink in a week?

Roger: Hmm…About this much?

Roger took a pen and filled in his response.

Kate: That much in a week?! Feels like a lot…

Roger: They say that good wine makes good blood, you know?

Kate: Only when it’s in moderation though? Sigh, next…the amount of sleep you get.

Roger: Sometimes emergencies come up or I have an assignment for Crown. And when I’m doing research, I don’t wanna interrupt it by sleeping. Well…You can say I sleep when I can.

Kate: …

Roger: You look like you got something to say but don’t wanna say it.

Kate: I’d like you to go to bed at a reasonable hour and get a good night’s sleep. But… I know that everything you do’s important. So I can’t scold you for it.

Roger: Is that so…

Kate: But, physician, heal thyself…So please take care of your health as much as possible, okay? Please be especially careful not to drink too much. If you don’t take care of your body, you’ll get weaker and weaker.

Roger: I’ll get weaker, huh?...How ‘bout we measure that too?

Kate: Measure what- Eep! Suddenly, an arm wraps under my butt and lifts me up with ease.

(Ah, so that’s when he uses those muscles…Wait, that’s not what I meant)

Kate: W-what are you doing! Put me down!

Even when I kick my feet, they don’t touch the ground and all I hit is air.

Roger: Hey now, stop struggling. Want me to drop you? Since you were worried, I thought I’d test my strength.

Roger casually walks around the infirmary with me on his arm.

Kate: …

Afraid of falling, I wrapped my arms around Roger’s neck and he laughed in amusement.

Roger: Not bad with one woman. Well…should I test lung capacity next?

Roger lowers me down on a bed and then pushes me back.

Roger: No breathing through the nose…

Kate: Nn…

Our lips meet and he kisses me deeply.

(Definitely a weird way to measure!)

Kate: Mmph…Nnnn

I slapped his chest in an attempt to resist, but he wouldn't budge.Rather, the grip on my shoulders tightened, as if chiding me for my actions.

Kate: …~~!

When I finally started to have trouble breathing, I glared at Roger. There was amusement in his eyes behind those glasses and our lips finally parted.

Roger: Giving up? Wouldn’t it be better if you strengthened yourself instead of worrying ‘bout me?

Kate: It doesn’t make sense to measure lung capacity in such a strange way.

Roger: I think it’s standard. Now then, let’s finally measure endurance.

Kate: Endurance…

Roger: We can use how many times we go at it to measure. Don’t think it’ll be too accurate though since you’ll probably get worn out before me.

Roger lifts one of my legs and sets it on his shoulder.I knew what he was getting at without having to ask.

Roger: So, what do you wanna do?

I couldn’t break eye contact from Roger who was like a predator before his prey.

Kate: I’m just worried about you, Roger…

Roger: So why don’t we just check whether I’m healthy or not using your body? I’m curious about you too.

After that, Roger brings my leg to his lips.

Kate: W-what…

Roger: Hm? Just a taste.

Roger’s tongue glides along the skin of my inner thigh.

Kate: Ah…

It tickles, but I also feel heat build up in my lower abdomen. It was like my body was anticipating the stimulation.

Roger: Done resisting? Then I’ll keep going.

Kate: …I surrender! I know now. We don’t need to question your stamina…

Roger: Haha! You’re so honest.

While laughing happily, Roger finally lowers my leg onto the bed.

(Phew, that was close…)

Roger: You can take my booze away when you eat with me, and manage my sleep schedule by sleeping with me. If you’re worried about my body, then keep an eye on me 24/7.

Kate: I’m good! You’re a grown man, so please take care of yourself.

Roger: Haha. You’re no fun.

(It’s so frustrating how Roger teases me all the time) (But what’s worse is that…Roger only does that to me)

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