#one of the best/most fucked up things they ever did.

[emphistic]

hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?

A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO

PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you

“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”

The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.

“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?

“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”

“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”

“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.

Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.

“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.

“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”

“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”

“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”

“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”

“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.

“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.

“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”

Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”

“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”

“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”

“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.

“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”

“No. And I hope it stays that way.”

“I—how dare you.”

That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.

But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.

Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?

Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”

“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.

“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”

“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?

It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.

“Uhh, I’m sorry—”

“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.

“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”

“Because I’m her prom date.”

“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”

“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.

Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”

“Dude.”

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff

[screampied]

‘ THAT [ GIRL ] IS MINE ! ,

ᡴꪫ sum. university still majorly sucks, and spring break is practically over. time to say goodbye to your dad’s best friend, but before you do—you have a jarring confession to make, and it’s definitely not those three words.

wc. 6.4k

warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), booty call, unprotected, size kink, praise, fıngering, cunnılingus (toji eating it from the back), degredation, dumbification, toji's very whipped for you, overstim, squırting.

an. this is the last chapter WOOOOO. thank you to everyone who read dbf! toji. may he return somedayy

girl, are you fucking stupid?

a simple question you couldn’t answer as if your life depended on it. if only you knew the deep consequences you’d face by having some careless fun on spring break. oh, but it’s just a one time thing, it’s just a little fling that won’t mean anything once april’s over. you continue to keep reminding yourself that every time you were with him. toji fushiguro—your father’s sleazy best friend, the guy who was about eight years older than your twenty-two year old self, the guy who was shameless, the guy who literally fingered you underneath the table during dinner, same said guy who makes you clean off his fingers with your tongue like the good obedient girl you were.

maybe you are fucking stupid,

spring break was coming to its inevitable end, meaning it’d be the end of your little fling with mr. fushiguro. oh and you did get caught, your father knows— but let’s not focus on that part, let’s focus on the part on how you were questioning yourself. was this love or just a game? surely it couldn’t be love, ew. toji himself said that he can’t stand relationships. you yourself was too busy with being a studious university student to even consider a significant other. so… what exactly was this peculiar feeling? a good description was a weird stir in your stomach, especially whenever he’s lay his eyes on you. alas, maybe instead of love, the feeling was entirely different.

you know what they say about karma though, it always catches up to you in the long run. oops..?

it was about three thirty in the morning. you were tossing and turning in your sleep. birds could just about be heard outside your window, chirping and chirping away. with an exaggerated sigh, you stare into the beige drywall that coats against your ceiling for a long, long time. no matter how much you tried to delay the inevitable—you had to get up, you just had to get it off your chest.

you should probably not keep this yourself..

but you pondered deeply at what his reaction might be— would he feel the same way, or would he hate you and turn a cold eye … ?

just thinking about it for such a long duration of a time made your stomach churn. at the same time though, whenever you thought about toji for too long . . that happened. you’d get aroused, having your pretty little panties in a twist.

you still question just how your father and him even met. a guy like toji isn’t really a guy you’d stumble across everyday. he mentioned to you on how he was gambling at boat races—you believed that, but still, you always did wanna know more about him.

toji was a very private man though, nothing wrong with that.

you couldn’t help but be a little curious about the man you’ve been screwing with for the past thirteen days now. thirteen days felt more like thirteen long consecutive weeks. like most, your break was supposed to only last five days to a week. it only ended up getting extended because of some kind of altercation at your campus. albeit, you didn’t ever want it to end,

but all good things do come to an end, right?

reaching for your phone, you decide to text him— you didn’t exactly expect a reply despite it being so late but still, you unlock your phone before scrolling for his contact..

< 69 Toji Fushiguro 🎥 >

Today 3:27 AM

hi toji.

u up?

• • •

Yo

Yea. Just woke up actually. Why?

lol no reason, i can’t sleep.

i miss u and i need to tell you smth

Oh?

Fuck I miss ya too, girl.

Come over then. you still got my location?

yeah be there in a bit xx

Read 3:29

locking your phone again, you take a quick thorough six minute shower. toji missed you just as much as you missed him— it’s been about a day or two or three that’s passed, of course you two wouldn’t be able to see each other every day.

it was mostly every other day. with spring break coming to a crashing depressing end, this would all be the end of your little spring season fling.

damn.

the drive to toji’s apartment was about maybe nine minutes from you. not exactly far, you’d have him come over to yours but you forgot that your father was literally next door to you. he’s already aware of what was taken place at his own home but again, let’s not focus on that part of the story.

at least not yet.. or ever,

you threw on a simple ample outfit, one of your oversized university hoodies and some leggings. something homely, something comfortable.

the weather was actually pretty decent, a bit humid but not exactly too cold either.

once you arrive at toji’s surprisingly well kept apartment, he met up with you at the door with that same smug grin. “….hey,” is all he says, eyes staring down your body for a while. you take the chance to ogle at him too. even with it being the middle of the night, he still looked handsome. with dark black hair of his a bit ruffled, toji had on nothing but obsidian black colored shorts and a white tee. his muscles, you always did feen over his mammoth-like jacked muscles. he was so toned— a lot taller than you, the epitome of what a real man was. “how was the drive? drive okay?”

“it was okay,” you mutter, stepping into his apartment. he’s holding a half empty can of cheap off brand booze, locking the door behind you as you take in the scenery. you feel a bit of butterflies rummage throughout your tummy as he slings an arm around you. it was like each time you’d meet with him again, he’d get more and more affectionate towards you. facing him, you had a cute abashed smile. “you look sleepy. did i wake you?”

“nah,” he firmly shakes his head, placing his empty can aside. toji takes off the thin coat you wore over your hoodie before hanging it up on the nearby rack for you. “i was ‘bout ‘ta get ready for work but then ya texted me.”

work.

toji never did tell you what he does for a living.

your eyebrows slightly raise. “wha— why? i can wait, just go to work.”

“dollface, really. it’s fine,” he chuckles, his voice a rough low. he leads you towards his bedroom, the bed wasn’t made up although it smelled a lot like him in here. a cheap musk of cologne fills through your nose as you sit down on his bed beside him. toji stretches, the veins in his forearms exposing ever so slightly and it’s so hot. “besides, didn’t feel like clockin’ in anyway. still gotta finish my taxes.”

“oh,” you mumble, completely lost in his gaze as he continues to speak. toji notices you staring and he smirks.

playfully, he pokes at your forehead, a teasing flick with two fingers to snap you out of whatever trance you were in. “. . soooooooo,” toji hums in a raspy pitched tone. his fingers that went against your skin was abnormally warm. “what did you wanna talk ‘ta me about?”

right, that..

suddenly, you felt your thighs squeeze together. toji’s staring at you, awaiting for a response and whilst you smother your glossed lips together, you rub the back of your neck. “oh, it can wait. it’s not that important,” damn, if looks could kill, you’d be screwed. dark green irises focus on your lips, then your eyes before back towards your pursed up lips. toji was quite familiar with your awkward body language, you lean up close to him before dragging a finger down his chest. so sensually, “like i said though, i missed you toji. i go back home tomorrow.”

“you’re lying, doll,” he whispers, letting your finger run down the middle part of his chest. a few bristles of chest hair pokes through his white tank before he raises a brow. “but fine,” and he grabs you to sit right on his lap. instinctively, your arms wrap around his broad neck. the closer you got, the more you got a good whiff of him. his cologne was so strong, it made you dizzy. “i missed ya more. and that’s right, y’er spring break’s ‘bout to end,” and you almost moan at feeling his clammy hands squeeze against your thighs. “excited to go back?”

“no,” you grumble, a grouse hiding underneath your tone. he slyly smiles, a thumb skimming against your skin. “i don’t wanna leave yet.”

“well girl then jus’ stay,” he rolls his eyes, forever a sassy, sassy man. “and, i find it kinda amusing. the whole point of your spring break was to visit your father ‘n you basically spent it all with me,” and his eyes run down your body, pulling you up close to kiss the outside of your neck. “ain’t complainin’ though.”

you pout, he had a point. “i can’t stay, my campus is like five hours away,” and you moan a bit from the softness of his lips meeting against your tender skin. “maybe.. you could visit me though.”

“eh. we’ll see.”

moments pass before you find yourself making out with toji. it lasts for a good while, ten precise minutes exactly. his hands free-for-all all over your body, the warmth of his hot breath goes against yours. the bitter taste of rich booze lingers on his breath, it’s chemically and it almost burns, yet it’s addictive. toji’s taste alone was addictive. you moan, feeling him ghost a big hand between your thighs to locate your arising heat. your leggings could only conceal your arousal for so long. his eyes were barely open, half-lidded as another hand travels up your hoodie. stubby fingers of his drag against your skin in such a way that you couldn’t help but grind against his lap.

toji grunts, deepening the passionate kiss—his tongue was so sweet, occasionally sucking against yours. perhaps he did miss you more than you missed him. with his head slightly cocked back to a certain angle, you start to hear and feel your own breaths shudder.

everything was going so fast yet slow, he parts his lips a bit further before you feel a hand of his reach all the way down between your legs. after a while of mashing teeth and sucking against tongues together, he pulls away. “y’er still as nasty as i remember. walkin’ around with no fuckin’ panties, huh?”

“nasty for you,” you whine, feeling his rough hands tug all over your body. swiftly, a hand snakes underneath your thighs. he runs a single thumb down your soaked slit and he guffaws. with a sly grin, he leans in to kiss more against your neck. so tender, he knew all the right spots to make you whimper out and squirm. his balmy hot breath resuming to collide against your skin made you bite your lip, an arm still throwing around his neck. “you don’t like me wearing panties anyway.”

“well yeah,” he sneers, his touch going further against your pre-soaked clit. you were already a bit drenched and he hums. “i steal them from ya regardless. my ‘lil souvenir. besides, what’s the point of wearin’ those things when y’er always this fuckin’ soaked.”

you moan, feeling him insert a single finger inside. his fingers were always so thick, stretching you out probably even better than his dick ever could. almost as if your entrance was elastic with how good it stretches. it’s his middle finger, then it sporadically turns into two— two thickset fingers prodding inside your slick heat.

you coat his digits so well with your syrupy arousal, he glances at you with a simper as you clamp around them both at once. “you get more nastier for me every time,” he murmurs, slowly swirling his fingers inside you. you’re clinging onto his neck tightly, feeling that strain in your lungs drag out as you pant. “drivin’ around this wet, girl i ‘oughta spank ya.”

“do it then.”

he glares at you before you gasp. toji lightly shoves you into the bed and you flop down, uttering out a soft ‘oof.’ landing on the sound mounds of your chest, he yanks down your leggings fully before meanly kissing the right cheek of your ass with his palm. “do it then,” he mocks you, pitching his naturally gruff tone to your own. “shut the fuck up,” and the sting feels good, his fingers were now out of you and again, you pout. clamping around nothing now, you were quite really just arched over his bare knee. “have ya been touchin’ y’erself lately? tell me.”

“no,” you lie, and that earns another spank— you moan out, the feeling of his palm was so hot at first touch. quite literally, the sting made you twinge before you grip onto his bulky thighs. “haven’t touched myself, swear.”

“oh bye, don’t bullshit me, sweetheart,” toji mutters, and you’re just dangling over his knee.

occasionally, the coolish air against his room would waft right against your skin. “known ya for a good what, two weeks? i can tell y’er lying,” and the way his voice pitches— it’s so rough, gravelly.

the baritone in his voice never fails to make you wet, so deep. you didn’t really know a good way to describe toji’s voice, all you knew was that it was raspy as hell. heavily and utterly raspy to the point where even him whispering against your ear was enough to have you drenched. “don’t like ya touchin’ her when ‘m not around,” he clicks his tongue, caressing your bare stinging ass. you’re panting, aching for him to just hurry up, to do something. toji cackles, noticing from how impatient you were simply from your body language. “aw. am i talkin’ too much for the pretty girl? you bein’ over my knee not enough to satisfy ya?”

you sigh, wriggling your ass a bit and he spanks it again just to watch the recoil bounce against your skin.

“t— tojiiii. just fuck me already.” you grumble, you didn’t really care how whiny you sounded.

it was late at night and you were horny. that was for sure pretty much all you knew. besides, despite it being about two to three days since you last saw him, yeah.. maybe that wasn’t even long of an absence— but you did kind of miss toji.

more importantly, you missed his little friend between his legs.

“i’ll fuck ya when i wanna,” he gruffs. you whine once he sprawls your legs open a bit more. toji stares at your ass, spreading them to see your sloppy cunt opening for him. a sweet little meet and greet. so wet, you’re still laid over his lap before he leans down. “shh. listen to her,” is all he says. whilst he’s inching his face closer, two exact seconds later you feel toji’s saliva trickle into your pulsating entrance. oh. he spat on your pussy, he was quite direct with it too. he then gathers a long stringy wad of gossamer-like spit before spitting it right between your swollen folds. you bite your lip hard, forgetting how much of a nasty man he was. “yeah she’s missed the fuck outta me.”

toji was purely fluent in pussy talk. it was common for him. he’d always refuse to your cunt as ‘she’ as if she had a name or something.

no shame, shameless— toji brings a thumb towards your clit, rubbing against it just so you could hear the squelches you made yourself.

“you used a toy, baby?” he hums, sliding his tongue against his lips, against the scar that slants against his skin oh-so-sexily..

“y-yeah,” you whimper, the coldness of his saliva making you shudder within his hold. your breathing became more rapid as you tighten the hold on his legs. “magic wand. i jus’ wanted to try it.”

“tch… magic fuckin’ wand,” he snarls, actually sounding quite offended.

continuing to drag and skim his fat thumb down your slit, you mewl out. you’re effortlessly soaking his single slender digit with such sheeny amounts of your sweet. “bet ya didn’t even know what the fuck you were doin.’ how long it take ‘ta make you finish?”

you’re panting now, trying to recall your lewd moments with your sweet beloved hitachi, it was expensive too.

you bought it from some shady link online, one of your friends recommended it to you so you shrugged it off, saying why not. besides, you hardly ever have time to play with yourself anyway. even more now that you had toji.

“like … maybe thirty minutes.” you exhale deeply, the fast paced strokes of his fingers making your eyes almost roll back. so so good, all he was really doing was skimming his fingers against your sopping wet entrance— barely even doing anything, yet you were still a mess.

toji chuckles, making you get off his lap before laying you face first on the mattress. he grabs your waist, pulling your ass upward to stick out before he gets up close for a nice direct view. “aw. thirty minutes? thirty minutes when it can only take me five with my tongue?”

“f-fuckkk.” you start to babble, his warm breath fanning all against your exposed cunt.

it cools against your skin, sending each nerve that resides inside of your entrance to spiral uncontrollably. toji had you arched all over, arched over like some slut.

to be fair, if the shoe fits you might as well wear it.

“dunno if ya deserve to be eaten out,” he speaks in a low undertone. your dilated pupils roll way back at his simple touch.

he teasingly brings his tongue towards your pussy, it’s retting, sloppily so. toji drags two fingers and you eagerly coat his digits with such salaciously, lewd arousal. “mhm. look at that, fuckin’ drenched. my favorite waterpark,” and he spits against your folds once more before snickering darkly. “jus’ thinkin’ you used those useless hands on this pretty pussy makes me ill.”

oh, you’re about to lose it..

he was stalling, more talking and less eating.

instead, it should have been vice versa.

you’re a mover, writhing in his lap, still hunched over with a cute arch before he spanks your ass.

“little girl, cut that shit out,” he grunts and abruptly, you feel the coldness of his flat tongue finally lap against your pussy.

immensely, your mouth forms into an ‘o’. if it was anything toji fushiguro knew how to do well, it was that he knew how to eat.

he ate you out like it was the end of the fucking world, as if your pussy was the only food remaining left in stock.

you gnaw on your bottom lip further, gasping once he wastes no time to dig in.

. . slow slow sluuuurps,

he makes sure you hear how wet you were on his mouth. just downright filthy, his tongue lays itself flat before he nibbles all against your throbbing clit.

“o-oh my god, toji, hngh,” you’d babble out in pathetic sweet sobs. with his tongue scrapping against your entrance, creating suction with his mouth had you stupid.

as your maw dramatically drops, he’s eating you from the back. there’s a concise dull moment where he pauses. with big two rough hands, he spreads your ass open fully. “f-fuuuck.” you moan, feeling him blow his warm breath all against your puffed folds.

from behind, you hear his sexy low titter before he resumes—yet this time, he lolls his pink tongue all the way out, so fucking long..

and as he does, he licks from the very bottom of your cunt until he’s reaching near your puckering hole— he’s never acknowledged that spot before, your ass.

your eyes widen, a clamoring gasp exits from your lips before he spits against it, lathering his tongue everywhere. he likes it wet, more importantly though, he likes it nasty.

“arch that back more for me, bend girl, bend,” he coos in a muffled tone— purely speaking with his mouth full. his stubble tickles against your pussy and your back voluntarily moves itself forward. a curve, he found it so appealing,

so . . amusing.

“there mphm we go baby, good girl. keep that head on the bed. ‘m fuckin’ starved.”

you’re clinging tight onto one of toji’s satin covered pillows, feeling his tongue roam everywhere. it knew no bounds. your heart starts to race at a more rapid speed the second he sneakily dips his tongue back into your needy clit.

he passionately sucks against the clitoral hood before using a hand to smack your ass every single time you squirm.

after about probably the nth time of his lewd escapades with his tongue, he starts to prod his calloused fingertips near your entrance once more. his fingers featuring his tongue, oh you were really no match.

“imgonnacumimgonnacumimgonna—”

“mhm, bet ya are,” he rasps, a deep chuckle dragging out of his throat.

the way your body responds to him was so cute. “keep that ass up ‘n y’er face down,” he orders, earning another vicious smack on the rear from him. you’re moaning, feeling yourself start to spasm. toji occasionally breaks his lips away to kiss near your ankle, your thighs, anywhere but your cunt and he knows how much you hated that.

the teasing— he’d purposely stop just to move his lips elsewhere, watching you fidget in such obscene anticipation. “don’t fuckin’ cum yet.”

“but—”

“but shit. you heard me,” he groans, bringing his mouth back towards between your legs. you whine, feeling him roll out his tongue before slurping up such a good amount of your syrupy taste.

with your toes curling, stomach seizing, you couldn’t stop shaking.

so damn good, his buttony nose rubs against your folds and it tickles for a split second. the stimulation has your mind going for a loop, you even slip your hands underneath your sweatshirt just to touch on your sensitive perky nipples. “wait for me. hold it, yeah.”

but of course, you didn’t listen,

your body had other plans.

it was inevitable, your orgasm ignored toji anyway, you’re ponderously throbbing.

the pulse between your thighs only grow more briskly before you realize you’re drooling all over his bedsheets.

oh, the feeling felt so delicious, your jaw remains open and you feel so much pressure. so much, his tongue still grazes against your slit before you shriek out, gasping for whatever air was left. it was quick, very very quick.

it’s speed..

it’s tempo was like lightning speed—a bolt that flashes within a blink of an eye, concentric circles steadily building up within your lower abdomen pooling up with heat before it just snaps,

you came.

“o-oh fuck, f-fuuuck, toji,”

suddenly, the room grows quiet. you knew toji didn’t like for you to finish early—especially finishing after he tells you to wait, but oh well.

you couldn’t help it, and the orgasm he just gave you was so good, mouth watering. with weak legs that could barely stand up it’s on own, you inhale a single sharp breath before you’re flipped over quickly.

“the fuck did i just tell you?”

“s-sorry,” you giggle, sprawled all on his bed. your eyes immediately meet the gaze of his shorts, they were half on. he’s got a bulge going on, a hard one at that. his black boxers briefly stick out and it’s so attractive—you catch a glimpse of his happy trail from his tank top that was pulled up just a bit, exposing a bit of his skin. sharp v-line, slim snatched waist.

slut..

god, he was so jacked. the more you stare at his sculptured body, the more you fantasized about how he could just toss you around the—

“oh, is somethin’ funny to you?” he utters lowly, and his tone— he sounds ticked off, he’s barely even raising his tone, projecting it but you still hear the slight rasp to it. you just got even more soaked. “was gonna let ya ride me but i don’t wanna stare at a brat right now.”

“h-huh?” you reply, and then your face was met against the plush mattress again.

you lewdly mewl out a whimper once he spanks your ass, a hand grabbing onto your hip.

“don’t act like ya can’t here me, girl. bring that ass up a bit more,” and you gasp, feeling him drag your hips a bit closer towards his slim waist. “yeah.” he breathes, having a gentle yet firm grip on you.

rough coarse fingertips glide up against your own hips as you feel him take a second to align himself. fuck, you missed this.

you missed him.

in the midst of toji already pulling down his shorts and boxers— he then grabs ahold of his thick cock, giving it a few solid strokes.

he was so hard, leaky tip glistening with pre that he wished he made you lick the top off.

but it was far too late, he just wanted to be inside, just as much as you wanted him inside. the crown of his cock was so fat, even with toji being slow to ease himself inside, he’s still practically splitting you open.

“shit, i missed this,” he grunts in a hoarse tone whilst he’s going inside you.

“f-fuck,” you bawl up the creamy white sheets into your fists.

you almost forgot just how big he was, despite it only being a good three days without feeling him stretch you out.

toji groans, feeling the subtle tightness of your walls adjust to him like always— it usually lasts a second or two. he’s furthering himself in, already about to bottom out.

he’s already niiice and snug. a perfect fit,

every. single. time.

toji rarely does doggy with you because he prefers staring at your face— solely to make fun of your little facial expressions. but whenever you were bent over for him on all fours, it was simply an experience you never wanted to end. “oh fuck m-me,” you croak, feeling him yank harshly against the hood of your hoodie. you bump back against him and that’s when he unhurriedly starts to create an unkempt, sloppy pace.

it was rhythmic, he starts off slow before strenuously pounding into you.

churning up your sweet savory insides like butter, you clamp around him so good that it makes his abs tense up. “mhm,” he tugs tighter against the fabric that was thrown over you from the torso up. dark eyes of his flicker toward your ass, each time he moves, your ass moves.

in full compatibility, the sheer skin slaps was brutal. your head was spinning like a merri-go-‘round, strained inhales pulling your heaving lungs every few milliseconds. “. . girl,” toji groans, and you moan once he gives your ass a spank again for probably the umpteenth time today. his voice, every syllable he drags out in that deep hoarsely voice of his had you so soaked. “fuck back against me, c’mon. ‘s a two way street, baby.”

“y-you’re so fuckin’ big though,” you whine, pawing into the soft cushions of his comforter.

“awww,” he utters in a faux, sympathetic tone.

he leans against you, so close to where he’s basically in prone bone— no more doggy.

he’s so deep that the tip of his dick prods all against your secluded g-spot. toji’s hefty weight hovers against your bare ass and you moan melodically. “i’m big, yeah?” and a colossal, veiny hand of his wraps around your throat. gentle, barely any pressure but a good amount to make you whine again. “but y’er doin’ so good, was jus’ about to praise you but you don’t want praises, huh,” and you’re falling in love time and time again with his sensual yet reckless rhythm. the way the bed rocks and shakes in harmony, you’re at a lost of words.

speechless, breathless, every -less word by this point.

he was hitting you so deep, every angle.

so thorough,

his hips were sharp— your moans grow louder the moment he gets right up against you, a hand gripping into your hair rigidly. mercilessly, a hand lightly digs into your scalp as he’s holding your head up. toji’s damn near balls deep now, making sure you feel every consecutive thrust. “some nerve, textin’ me at three am just to fuck this sloppy cunt,” and his hot breath fans against your neck. you whine once you feel his tongue slide against your sensitive collarbone. so deep—you were sure he’s just jackhammering his cock into you by this point. each movement was pivotal, he was precise with the way his hips snapped against you. whiplash got you good, you’re currently just a babbling mess listening to his crude words. “but i bet ‘s more than that, yeah? you wanted to tell me somethin’ so just tell me.”

“n-not yet,” a sweet moan dies out your throat.

toji rolls his eyes— this girl, he’s thinking in his head. you were testing his patience, a stubborn little thing. one of the many things he’s liked about you. “fuck, h-harder toji. harder.”

“sloooow? i can do slow,” he replies in a deriding tone, and his deep thrusts turn into satirical unserious, slow pumps. you whine, he lets go of your hair and you just plop down on your chest. he knew what you wanted, he knew how you liked to be fucked, and yet he was just being a tease.

toji fucking fushiguro for you.

he’s always been rough with you, treating you like nothing more than a mere rag doll at times. there’s been sweet affectionate moments too, rarely, but it has its moments.

toji’s infatuation with you only grows, the more he spends time with you the more he even starts to question himself.

you’ve got him whipped.. precisely with your pussy, yes, but whipped in another way completely. he didn’t know how to describe it, mainly because it was nothing to describe,

indescribable.

he couldn’t put anything to words—especially whenever he was deep in your guts, mashing your cunt around with his cock like homemade dough. kneading it with his tip,

stretch, mold, ply, repeat..

he’s doing all that with his dick. he sucks his teeth, a tsk escapes from his mouth before he spanks your ass— bringing you right back to reality.

“fuckin’ gonna milk the shit out of me,” he groans, his hips all sloppy and vigorous.

toji’s so close to you that by now, he brings a foot up to press against the back of your neck. you gasp, really feeling just how deep he was inside your cunt.

the wool of his sock presses against your neck as your face was smushed against the satiny sheets. “mhm, that’s it girl, take it. take that shit. milk my fuckin’ cock, fuuuck.”

his groans get louder, you’re so wet it’s ludicrously sloshing against him and you’re all doe-eyed and dumb.

emphasis on dumb, not a single thought was embedded into your brain.

as his hips keenly buck against you, you’re breathing shallowly, trying to keep a good momentum against him before you whine.

you were close again, yet this time— something else was approaching,

something more . . provocative.

your legs shake and shake, your jaw aches from how much your teeth is shattering amongst each other before you feel him grab onto your wrist.

he pins it behind your back whilst he’s still fucking you raw.

broad, clammy hands of his roam down your voluptuous body, taking in to snag a feel of your curves, your pretty physique, everything..

beads of sweat droplets start to race down the sides of toji’s naturally dark brows— he huffs and puffs, the girth of his dick only stretching out inside of you even further.

you’re a babbling mess, the arch in your back was so cute that it makes him throb. you feel the throb that lingers from his dick, it pulsates at such a meteoric pace that it has you pulsing in response.

“where do ya want it,” he grumbles with a soft vexing pout on his lips. toji was trying his best to maintain composure—but he was flustered, the more he leers down your back, down your pretty structured spine, the more he’s starting to adapt this unexplainable feeling. “best fuckin’ tell m—”

“inside,” you purr out, your voice all strained and a raucous from the immense amounts of moans that left your throat. “i-inside, wanna feel you again, ‘n again, ‘again..”

toji snickers, swiping a tongue against his lips before he slows himself down for you to adjust.

you’re preparing to finish with him— he coos right up against your ear, sticking two fingers in your mouth. “finish with me, princess. ‘m givin’ you this one chance,” and he deepens his voice all the way down, balls so deep inside that you feel a faint gape stretch you whole.

you’re compressing him down tight with your gummy walls before you feel the slimy friction of pure sweat sticking against your own skin. “you gonna be a good girl ‘n cum on my cock? or a bad girl who’s not even listenin’ to a damn thing ‘m saying.. ?”

“c-cum, toji, mphm,” you choke out a sweet desperate wail, feeling one of his bulky arms wrap around your torso. “wanna cum.”

as you spoke, your words were merely muffled from his thick digits shoving inside of your sloppy, needy mouth. his warmth, once it skids against your skin, it never ever leaves.

you think you’re about to cum but instead, you gush out.

violently, electricity courses through your veins. vibration after vibration pulses throughout your body and you’re hysterical,

it’s so abrupt, so intense..

you’re squirting, coating his dick with your honeydew arousal from the base down.

he chuckles at your body’s initial response, how you’re finding it impossible to stay still. you’re clenching around his shaft still, mouth all open, eyes wide as big as restaurant saucers.

swooning, you’re swooning from his length and that’s when you whimper once he groans right in your ear.

the raspiness, it’s got you drenched— drenched like a faucet, the sensation was beyond pleasurable.

toji ends up following seconds after, it hits him harder. like a truck, it comes at full speed before you’re met with such absurd milky ropes of his seed. it shoots out quick, but it’s thick. you get quiet, hearing the sloshing spurts trickle its way inside of you. “f-fuck,” he stutters, a shaky breath following as he slides his fingers out of your mouth. a trailing glimmering cobweb of your own spit drags from his two fingers as he’s dumping knots and knots of cum into your sweet, starving cunt. “saved so much f’r you, feel it deep ‘n y’er womb, doll?”

“y-yes.” you swallow, a multitude of moans emit from you before he slowly pulls out.

oh, the sight of it all. one of toji’s favorite parts was to simply gawk at the mess he created, taking in the mess he made you.

a messy girl.

the messiest, your chest feels tight and you’re heaving.

he licks his lips, staring at your ass with hazy eyes. his own cum oozes out of your hole and he just wants to lick it, plug it back into you and give you another thick load.

that’ll come soon enough— as much as he had stamina equivalent to a near stallion, he needed a little break. his chest felt like it was about to explode.

“fuck,” he collapses against his side of the bed, reaching towards his thigh to scratch it.

as if on instinct, you crawl towards him, an arm wraps around you and he pulls you closer. your head presses against his chest. you hear his rapid heart beat and he murmurs out a husky, “good girl,” and he leans in to kiss the crown of your head. “gimme a minute though. ‘m not as young as i used to be, y’know.”

you giggle, a simper stretching across your face as the time passes.

instantaneously, it gets quiet for a moment before you suddenly remember why you even came here . . for one last time.

“toji,” you utter, attempting to catch your breath.

you were still heaving with lungs full of build up oxygen, panting a bit before he glances down at you with that unreadable, naturally stern expression.

a hand of yours strums down his pecs seductively, playing with the curly chest hair that remains stuck against his skin. “i’ll um . . tell you what i wanted to say earlier.”

“let me go first.”

with your eyebrows slightly furrowing, you glance up at him and he stares up at the ceiling before back at you. “about a week back, at y’er dad’s place, i told ya i loved you,” and his breath hitches for a moment— even saying something as sentimental as that made him cringe.

you figure he was being serious though because his sudden eye contact never left yours. “you never gave me an answer back.”

“. . . oh,” you sheepishly say, remembering the exact encounter he was referring to. you then lean up to toji, gingerly planting your lips against the right side of his mouth where his tender scar resides. “you didn’t hear me? i said i love you too, toji.”

his chest feels all warm and mushy, you love him?

“you do?” he replies, being taken aback. this entire situation was messy as is, but again, they do say the heart knows what it wants.

you nod, repeating yourself before pulling him into a quick three second kiss. “i love you, toji.”

. . .

. . . is what he thought you was gonna say.

far from it actually, you’re sat in the passenger seat of toji’s car before you lightly tap him on the shoulder. he’s parked, slouched back against his seat before he snaps out of his erotic phantasm. he was dropping you off back home,

oh right.

home.

“toji? did you even hear a word i just said?”

“huh? yeah, you said you loved me too.”

“no … i didn’t. what?” you scrunch up your face, the most perplexed expression of all.

that was nothing you said, with a sheepish expression, you mutter out the words he’d never thought he’d hear you say. “toji, i said i’m pregnant.”

. .

happy spring fucking break.

#★vegasbaby. #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk drabbles #anime smut #female reader #cw sex mention

[bunnys-kisses]

vegetable patch (3)

farmer!captain john price & (brief) hybrid!simon

cw: hybrid au, bunny!reader, farmer!price, pregnant!reader, pregnancy, man-handling, fingering, pwp/smut, full nelson (sex position), oral sex (f receiving), threesome, guard dog!simon, double penetration, older!price, mindbreak, (there's a lot happening),

part one (simon) | part two (simon & johnny)

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own!

john never thought it would get to this. when he bought the farm and raised his hybrid guard dogs, he never expected to have a bunny around. let along a pregnant one.

but almost six months into your pregnancy, he had grown affectionate of you. sure you were a bit to handle sometimes, but in a way pregnancy, a roof over your head and a fully belly (in both ways) has made you softer. less of a wild animal and more of a pet.

it was cute.

the one thing that didn't change was your insatiable lust. originally price thought that two strong hybrid dogs would take care of your little bunny cunt, but not even those could stop you. let alone the heaviness of your middle.

the boys were out patrolling the yard with you safe in the house. you were curled up on simon's doggy bed with your hands on your belly and your hands situated on your belly with your head propped up on a pillow.

it was cute, john found himself almost enamored by the sight of you as he relaxed on the couch with a beer in his hand. you were just so small, the little bit of chub at your hips only made you seem cuter.

he got up from the couch and left the beer on the table as he walked toward you. he crouched down and rubbed your cheek. you leaned into his touch and whimpered a little. he chuckled and said, "good girl."

your eyes opened a little and you looked up at price, "what time is it?" your little tail did a wiggle under the over-sized shirt that you wore. he chuckled and pulled you close to him.

he fully sat down on the floor and took you into his arms, delicately. his hand grazed your middle, "not even close to lunch, the boy's are still out. it's just you and i."

you dipped your nose into the crook of his neck and you whimpered, "i feel wet."

"yeah, havin' wet dreams about simon, mama?"

"no." you said, "about you." as your hand reaches for his shirt and you held onto it. you buried your face deeper into his neck as he held you on the hardwood floor.

price's eyes went wide for a moment but then slowly got up with you in his arms. it was like holding a sack of potatoes. the most prominent part of you was the puppy was slept soundly in your belly.

"then i guess we must go to bed then. i know you love simon's bed, but my knees and back won't let me fuck you on the floor." his voice was gruff.

you giggled, "be gentle, baby's sleeping."

"of course, bunny." he replied as he brought you upstairs to his bedroom. there was a spare room for guests and an extra room for the three hybrids of his home.

but right now he was taking you to his room where he could fuck that sweet bunny cunt. it hadn't been the first time he had ever done it, but every time it was something else. a wild little hybrid now tamed and under his gentle care, the way he tamed his boys.

the bed was large and soft, he placed you down and started to work on the jeans he wore followed by the flannel of his shirt. he was hairier than simon and johnny, who had tufts here and there to show their hybrid heritage. but price was hairy that was a man was.

you wondered if a human got a hybrid pregnant then what would the baby be. because from the size of price, you were certain to have a heavy newborn. you got off your shirt and sat there naked on the bed, exposed to your farmer.

his large hands touched your belly gently, thumb grazed the stretch marks, "keepin' the little pup nice and safe, huh? bein' a good mama for me?

you nodded, "only the best for you, sir."

he reached down and rubbed your chubby little cheek, "i can see why simon trapped ya." he chuckled, "cute thing like you shouldn't be wandering the woods. that little cottontail will get into too much trouble."

he got onto the bed and man-handled you into his lap, he wanted to feel you as deep as he could. he wanted to know the inside and outside of bunny cunt. but the position he got you into was more of a wrestling move to keep you pinned against him.

you put your knees up to your head and he had your arms pinned back against him. your squirmed a little, you sort of loved the idea of being trapped. john was propped up against the oak headboard with his little pet bunny in his lap with her cunt soon full of his cock.

it was a little hard to do with such a big belly in the way, you had to squish it a little as you were moved to fit his position. you faced the door that led out of the bedroom and with a few misplaced thrusts, you moaned when price sank his cock into you.

"ah, sir!" you whimpered.

he thrusted into you and kept you in the position. it tested you physical limits but john was a strong man and you were a flexible bunny. after all you had to get through his fence somehow. but now you were all nice a plump with child.

price groaned at the idea of you pregnant with his child next. such a sweet little bunny carrying the farmer's seed made his cock throb while buried inside of you. you sweet noises were music to his ears.

"you like that, mama." he groaned, "you like when i fuck you hard?" he kissed the shell of your ear, "simon got lucky to have a taste of you first, because if it were me. if i caught you in my vegetable patch, then you'd never get the taste of my cock out of your mouth."

you kicked your legs out a little bit as he sank into your further, as deep as it would go. you could feel his cock pressed against your womb. your ears twitched and you felt soaked.

"you'd like that wouldn't you. maybe a little bit more time before you go on birth control would do you some good. see if you can take this old man's seed in your pretty, fertile cunt." he grumbled, "bunnies are known for their many babies."

you felt something churn in your stomach as your pregnant belly bounced with every hard thrust. the sex was rough, heat filled the air as you two moved together.

"i like how you look, mama. all swollen with pup. i bet it was so easy for you, took simon's seed so nicely." he purred as he held you tightly, making it slightly uncomfortable.

but you felt on cloud nine, until the bedroom door opened. and on the otherside was none other than your lover, simon. you whimpered and kicked out your legs.

simon was covered in muck, blood across the shirt he wore. he watched you as you were cock drunk and raised an eyebrows, "price." he said, "what are you doin' with my girl."

"she needed a little tlc, simon." he replied, "you know what bunnies are like. they could be having thirteen kits and still beg for another." he looked over your shoulder and asked, "what the hell did you get into."

"had to scare of a coyote." simon replied, "he could smell bunny all the way from the fence. that's how i knew you were fuckin' her."

"then get that shirt off and help me out." john replied as his pace became harder. you saw stars and your mouth hung open for a moment in pure lust.

with his shirt off and dropped to the floor, followed by, his jeans. he was soon on the bed and licking at your sweet cunt as price fucked you. you were trapped between the two men and you felt a dizziness in your mind.

this was somehow more intense than the threesome you had with johnny and simon. simon only let those in his 'pack' have a taste of his pregnant mate, which meant coyotes like graves were off limits. if simon ever saw graves' paws on you.

simon kept your legs open with his strong hands, the tips of his claws left indents in your skin as he lapped at your cunt. his tongue did touch price's cock which made the older man feel hot all over.

you were the loudest out of the three of you, your voice was high pitched and you felt so full. you squirmed against both men but they kept you still as best as they could.

you came once, then twice, the three times from the pleasure from both men. it was sensory overload. your mind went blank by the third orgasm that the men pulled from you. which left simon painfully hard.

"got any room in there, price." simon said as he pulled away from your cunt and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. his cock stood at full attention in his underwear.

"well, she'll need a good stretch if she's havin' your pup." price chuckled, he could feel himself getting closer. you on the other hand were mindlessly moaning without being able to form words.

your pussy was so wet that he slid in next to price with ease. the stretch made you whimper like an animal, but soon you were dropped back into the depths of pleasure as both men used you.

price let go of your arms but caged you with his around your middle. you felt sore, but your brain couldn't register much. your mouth hung open and drooled a little. your brain felt like it was broken in half.

"i know you can't smell it, price." simon said, "but bred bunny smells the best." his hands were on your belly and soon were price's. simon felt superior for having seeded you first.

sure his other packmates had their fun, but everything from the pup in your belly to the cotton on your tail was his. he watched your gasp for air as you tried to formulate thoughts.

his poor pregnant mate, such a beating to your pussy. but it was okay, he knew that you liked it. bunny's had a pension for a little pain.

both men, fucked you without much abandon. they ever managed to pull one last orgasm out of you which tore from your throat as you went limp against price's hairy chest. the feeling of two cocks inside of your cute little cunt was just too much.

and not wasting any seed, they flooded your poor pussy with human and hybrid seed alike. they stayed in you for a moment more before they pulled out at the same time. cum oozed out of you and simon petted your belly.

"johnny's gonna be jealous he didn't get to join." price remarked.

simon replied, "before he went out on patrol with me. he stuffed a sock in her mouth and fucked her in his bed on the floor. she's got all of our seed in her."

price held you in his arms as you twitched and moaned from the aftershocks of your activity. he watched simon kiss you before he rubbed your belly, "good mama. good little bunny, now you rest and keep growing that pup. simon and i will come back for you later."

you managed to give them a weak nod, your brain felt flat-lined but the lingering feelings of pleasure still shook you to your core <3

#bunny writes #call of duty #reader insert #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley #cod hybrid au #hybrid au #captain john price #captain johnathan price #captain john price smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #john price smut #john price x reader #john price cod #john price #bunny!reader #guard dog!simon #farmer!price #ghost call of duty

[frostbitebakery]

LOUD.

a Jedi Shadow!Obi-Wan AU

Introspection fucking sucks, according to Commander Fox.

The thing about him is, he’s been made out to be a bastard and ever since their batch found their calling or whatever he’s embraced that role.

Every batch needed someone who didn’t secretly want to be cuddled, who pushed others away so he could keep track of the big picture.

Cody had competed for the role for a while. As did Wolffe.

For Cody, his heart, big and fragile once you got to know him, got in the way in the end. He sees the whole picture, craves it so he won’t go crazy from the losses. But he believes in people and their goodness.

Fox doesn’t.

Wolffe made the mistake of getting the galaxy’s best General. General Koon shits rainbows and glitter, from what Fox has been forced to listen to.

Fox has… the Chancellor.

He takes a swig of water and wishes it were something stronger. But Quin is on the other side of Fox’s desk, reading glasses ever so slowly slipping down his nose while he’s crunching and tracking the numbers to prove the Chancellor is, indeed, siphoning credits off the Republic to giftwrap them for the Seppies.

He takes another swig.

Wouldn’t surprise him if Palpatine turned out to be the villain of the whole story.

Brought Fox to drink with the kind attitude, the cruelty so expertly hidden from first glance, cushioned in false promises and support.

Hadn’t been pretty. But it had been easy. You go to the right places, people are only too willing to shell out for some drinks. Entertainment and morbid curiosity what brings a clone to their knees.

Some found the lisp he has because of the scar that ransacks through his lips and tongue endearing but most hadn’t bothered with wanting him talking.

Some wanted to inspect the changes in the Corrie armor up close and cozy.

If shit hadn’t already multiplied, Organa came flouncing into the Guard offices every two weeks with a new design like they were his little dress-up dolls.

The last design, the one that stayed, had a dummy connector installed in the backplate.

Fox hadn’t mentioned it. Had stewed over how the Guard, already isolated from the rest of the GAR, wasn’t even considered for the neural network that would make them more efficient, more deadly if activated. Treated like scum on a pedestal, overlooked and taken for granted.

Fox takes every advantage he can squeeze from that.

Every batch needs a willing loner who’s got the big picture in his head at all times and doesn’t care for the minutiae.

Fox had been comfortable in that role, really. He saw Thorn and Stone and Thire and the rest of them making friends and lovers and heartbreak, and that was the last fucking thing Fox wanted.

And then came Vos. Appearing from the shadows like a designer nightmare.

For such a short time they’ve sure gone through a lot together.

To the point Vos became Quinlan became Quin became Vos again became someone Fox clung to while fighting fucking addiction and the realization that he is stupid enough to become addicted.

No matter what Quin had said, Fox was supposed to be the pinnacle of cloning and artificially creating the perfect soldier. Addiction is a weakness and fault.

Fox almost did something extremely stupid over that one.

Turns out it’s all part of the sentient experience.

Fucking sucks.

Quin had laughed at that, ugly and bruised laughter, continuing to comb his fingers over Fox’s head. “Tell me about it.”

An eloquent way to say Quin was going through withdrawal himself.

They got outside help after that.

“Hey, Depa,” Quin murmurs absently after answering his comm, pushes his glasses up.

“Quinlan, is your line still secure?”

“‘Course. Especially after Fox got his grubby little hands all over it.”

Fox shows him the middle finger of one of his grubby little hands.

“Good,” General Billaba clips out. Quin straightens up, and maybe Fox’s attention isn’t misplaced here. “Good. Commander Cody was activated by the Sith Lord and he’s bringing Obi-Wan to Coruscant.”

Activated.

Quin is silent. Blinks up at the ceiling. “Can you run that by me again?”

“Quinlan, we have reason to be believe the Chancellor is the Sith Lord.”

Hah. Fox got that one right on his bingo card, at least.

Cody got activated.

As they’ve learned, the neural network - battlefield mediation, in fancy Kamino speak - is activated by a designated Force using GAR personnel. Surprisingly, the status is even an optional display on the screens of every trooper’s vambrace. Or not so surprisingly.

Cody got activated by the Chancellor. Who is the Sith Lord the Order has been hunting.

Fox will deal with that later or never, whatever comes first.

He’s comming the Guard all across the planet, checking the weapons on his person, while General Billaba explains the situation. He appreciates her succinct manner, he’s gotta say.

“I’m on the way to detain Anakin. Mace is following the ship Commander Cody captured but we need someone to intercept them on Coruscant before he reaches Palpatine.” She halts for a brief moment. “Obi-Wan seems to believe the Commander has betrayed him when he knows about the neural link inside the clones. We are fearing the Darkness is deliberately attacking and clouding his senses.”

“I’m on my way,” Quin nods, adds with a calculating glance at Fox, “I’m not sure I have back-up.”

“Funny thing about the Alderaan design of the guard armor,” Fox comments, checking the plasma charge on his DC, and vows to give Senator fucking Organa a sliced fruit platter, “the Guard doesn’t have the connector to the neural link.”

He comms their resident medic next and orders every gundark-level tranquilizer delivered to him.

Cody got activated and is following the orders of a Sith Lord.

Stars help them.

#loud au #commander fox #quinlan vos #foxquin #tw addiction #my wips

[hyukaslvr]

strong enough | J. Jungkook (3)

<series masterlist

pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader

genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut

warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds

w.c: aproxx 11.2

series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.

a/n at very bottom!

To my love, my forever. You will soon find out the reason why I am the way am I. Give me some time, my love, I will express everything and more to you. Soon, you’ll have everything once I am able to love and care for myself the way I want to do to you. You deserve everything and more than what I could ever give you, and I will be there for you always. I may never give you this, I may never allow you to read this. But just know, you mean so much to me. Even if I’m a pain in the ass, or if I piss you off, you will always be the person who helped me want to change for the better. I know it may seem like i’m leaving you behind, but pushing you away is the best way for me and you to be able to find ourselves. Once we are settled and ready, I will never let you go, ever again. Mark my words, use them against me, but I know that once you let me in, I’ll never leave your side ever again. You’re my one and only, forever. You are my future, my light, the person who drags me to be right. You mean so much to me and more. But for now, let me go to become the one that deserves your love and wellbeing. Take care of yourself, Jungkook, you will do many good things in life, with or without me.

“i think you should give it to him,” one of your members slur out, making your already wobbly head tilt up to her as she hiccups for the 5th time that same hour, you sighed and your head pounded as your squinted tightly to look at her, “seriously! i think he would want closure that way,”

Jungkook definitely did. he knew that when you wrote letters, you meant every little thing. he knew something happened between you and your ex, his name is like a slap in the face to you, and he could always notice.

his hands started to shake as he continued to read your note, he didn’t know how you came all the way to his house just to ring the door bell and drop it off. he was even shocked to notice his name in your handwriting on the top of the note. he wasn’t mad about it, he was just so, so sad. his eyes burned as another drop fell onto his lap. Jungkook knew it was for the best, but why does it hurt so bad and why does he feel like he’ll never get better while you do?

Jungkook didn’t want to think that way, but he did. he always did, he hurts to see you go but hurts even more to see you shine without him. he kept all your little notes in a box, he was really considering giving it back to you since it was at some of your most vulnerable times. he wouldn’t want to keep these just in case he snoops through them, like he’s doing right now as he was putting the other note in there along with the tons of others.

one of them wrote a song that you made about him, him never leaving you and the way you love him. it breaks his heart more, knowing that you’re no longer around, and that he just keeps fucking up.

when you wake up the next morning, your hungover member told you about a box she found outside the door step with your name on it, your ears ring as you stand in front of the box sitting on your bed, biting the inside of your cheek because this was Jungkook’s box. it had a polaroid of the two of you with shots in your hands on his balcony last summer. it was his favorite picture of you both and wanted to keep it with all the letters you even written him.

you pace around your room for like and hour, biting your lip and running your hand through your hair to calm yourself down. it finally felt like you guys were officially over, no matter how many times you’ve broken up. when you opened it finally, there was a new one, one you definitely didn’t write. you don’t even remember going to his house and giving him the one you were gonna keep for your sake.

it was Jungkook’s hand writing, you knew it from the back of your palm, literally as you have a tattoo that he gave you himself. it read,

forever

and looking at it makes you sick. you felt like crap anytime you thought of him, what you had put him through, all the stuff he doesn’t know about you. you knew him so well, but did he actually even know you, truly? it made you want to cry, the tears lining your waterline and you fight the urge.

you give yourself time before opening up his letter, preparing yourself for the worst or to cry. when you start reading it, you felt like he was there with you. it felt as if he was pacing around your room, looking you dead in the eyes and telling you everything you’ve been wanting to hear, but at the wrong time.

I miss you a lot, I know I say that a lot, but it’s true. I’m glad you wrote me this, I’m glad you’re trying to find ways to open up to me, I’m glad you love me. You are my everything, I want what’s best for you, and if it’s not me then so be it. You deserve the whole fucking world, and I hope you know I tried so hard to give it to you. Maybe, in the long run, we can be happy together. Maybe we can be able to know each other truly, I always wanted to. I believe in right person, wrong time, because you’ll forever be my person, even if i’m not in the picture. I love you, ______, I always will.

you wanted to sob, you didn’t even know what to do. you had dropped the note off not expecting anything back, but getting everything back? even a letter from him, confessing how much he loves and cares for you. you didn’t know how to feel, if it was closure or not. to you, yours was supposed to be. his, his was a love letter, you’ll never let go of it.

you had one more promotion for you group, and you had to prepare in so many ways. you had to practice tons, and practing handling your emotions until you’re a zombie to what you truly feel, you couldn’t handle being around Jungkook for long. it’s crazy, how much you used to look at him thinking you’d never do anything to hurt him, yet you’re over here making him suffer because you are in your head. it tears at the deepest parts of you, and it makes you feel so much at once.

so when it came to the event, you felt your knees lock when you saw him sitting with his team. he looked breathtaking, and it sucks that you can’t look at him for long before you cry because he looks too good. Jungkook always looked good, but whenever you wanted to ignore him, it’s like he knows and wants to look that fine. you gulp hard because walking to over your assigned seats, a couple seats back behind them but at an angle to a way that you can see every part of Jungkook, his hands and thighs especially.

ones that put you through hell, sent you to another universe is what he would of said and has said before, smoking off your balcony as you sat on his lap with your legs shaking trying to not fall off. he laughed as he smacked your thighs, watching them shake more as you practically whine in soreness.

he took another puff off his cig before putting it down on his designated ash tray, but even knowing you didn’t smoke, he kissed you hard, forcing the hot smoke into your mouth and through your pipes, allowing him to do anything to you because you were obsessed with everything he did.

“fucked you out, huh, princess?” he said against your ear as he gave you a second to breathe, making you almost choke as his hand started to move down and between your thighs, giving them a squeeze before going deep between them to touch you where you shook the most.

let’s just say, the memory had your legs close tightly together. the thought of how much have gave you that night, it made you miss him even more for just taking care of you like he said he would. you could feel it starting to stick against your skin, immediately wanting to go to the bathroom.

you thought you were stable enough to walk down the stairs in front of all the idols and fans including, instead you almost dropped face first into the steps instead someone’s hand wrapped around your waist and around the inside of your thigh, gripping it hard as they held you from falling to your death infront of thousands of people.

“your shoes too big for you, baby?”

you really thought you were going crazy, that his presence was just teasing you. but as your eyes dragged themselves down to the hand around the inside of your thigh, you weren’t going crazy. the tattoos proving who the man really was and how his thumb was very close to your throbbing clit. you shivered before quicking bowing at him once you leave his grip and speed walking towards the exit.

the moment you got alone in a hallway, you looked around before pulling out your phone to text your leader where you were going to be, the bathroom, before you hear a door open behind you. you go to put your phone away, but a tight grip around your waist turns you towards the person, your phone falling on to the floor and your mouth to open up, perfect for the attacker to kiss you hard.

another hand grabs your hair and you immediately knew who it was based on the way he was holding you. he knew, and knew it was because of him. that’s all your thought about when his lips were softly against yours, until you felt his hands creeping up. he just knew how to distract you from the facts and knows how to get you to enjoy his attack.

“can we talk soon, princess?” he whispers lowly in your ear once he pulls away from your now desperate lips trying to reach his. you whimper at the nickname, one that just rolls off his tongue in such a degrading way, he grabs your chin softly, turning your face to face him. his eyes invited yours, and the longer you looked into them, the more you felt entranced by him.

“talk about what?” you sighed into his hold, which he notices and gives you your favorite smile in the whole world. it hard to ignore his hands gripping your waist, your hands clinging onto his dress shirt as he holds you, you didn’t expect to be in this position.

“we will talk later tonight, i’ll pick you up?”

“how, with what car-”

“i’ll figure it out, anything for you,” he presses his forehead against yours, making your eyes squeeze shut as he lets out a little chuckle because of your reaction to his proximity being so close to you, you could almost feel his breath against your lips. “you know i’ll do whatever i need to do to see you, i will figure out a way to see you later tonight, bunny, i promise,” he kisses your nose softly before letting you go without your even realizing he picked up your phone for you, a smile across his face as you nodded your head for him.

Jungkook didn’t give you a time, or a place to when he was going to pick you up. before you left the event, you had asked him what he was planning on doing with you and he just told you that you’ll have to wait and find out. Jungkook knew how to make you worry about what could happen. what should you even wear? is he taking me somewhere to eat? it’s kinda late for that-

doink

something just hit your window as you were pulling your pants up, you almost tripped in shock but managed to pull them up and fix yourself before going to your window. there he was, the man of your dreams, the love of your life, standing down there searching for more rocks to toss at your window.

you cracked your dorm room window open, not even wanting to question how he managed to get over the brick wall to get into the dorms, and he smiles when he sees your head peaking from the bottom of the window. he pats his hands on his thighs while you watch him with curiosity.

“get down here bunny, we have a lot to do tonight,” he stood up straight, hands put in his pockets as he stared off at you. you would of jumped right there into his arms after that nickname, you almost whined before nodding your head like an idiot and shutting your window.

you managed to sneak out, grabbed your shoes at the front and headed out from the back blind spot and running to where Jungkook stood, his hands tucked in his pockets to stay warm. his left arm raised so you could wrap your arm around it, a habit of the both of you. you just ignored the bad feelings and wrapped your arm around his, feeling his arm tighten around yours as you both started to walk to the car.

“you gonna tell me where we’re going, Jeon?” you tilt your head, your left knee against his center console as your left side rested on his passenger seat. his hand slid up to your knee, leaving you in shock as he gripped it in warning.

“stop asking questions, baby,” he tapped his finger on your knee, not even bothering to look your way. you huffed as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore his thumb moving against your thigh now, his hand resting against it too.

“Jungkook, you know we can be doing this again. i know you remember what happened last time,” you warned, your head felt like it was spinning, none of this felt real. Jungkook bit his lip ring in thought, he just wanted to talk to you and apologize. he always wants to talk to you even if he’s been rude.

“______, what do you think i’m going to do to you tonight?” he spoke deeply, it sent waves through your spine, and down to your poor kitty. it’s crazy, what this big eyed man can do to you with only his hand on your thigh while he speaks to you like your his.

“i- i don’t know, what are you asking me? i’m just confused why you’re doing this-”

“what do you want me to do to you tonight, baby? is there something else bothering you that only i can fix?” his hand rubs your inner thigh, occasionally softly squeezing the skin closest to where you needed help the most. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do to you, you just have to speak up, darling. is that okay? can you do that for me, princess?”

you almost moaned, gasping at his eagerness to help you with whatever you want, and you knew he meant that. “Jungkook, we can’t be doing thing again, as much as we want to-”

“fuck that and fuck no contact, we were doing good as fuck the last time we were friends. can we not be friends, baby?”

“that’s why! you keep calling me my favorites, you can’t do that to me..” you whined, you wanted to hide away as he giggled at how you whined. when the car slowly starts to come to a stop, you got reminded that the whole time you were talking to him, getting teased by him, he was driving. “Jungkook… where are we?”

“let me help you out and show you,” he smiled, and you just knew that you had to trust him, why? because he’s Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t you trust the love of your life?

when he open your door, hand already reaching for his as he helped you out of the car, the smell of salt hit your face in a whiff, making you smile at the moment you had at this beach with Jungkook. but why here? why did he want to talk here?

you didn’t trust your voice, watching his open his back door to grab a blanket and cigs, which you thought he quit, with a lighter and a flashlight. you didn’t say a word as you hugged onto his arm as he walked to a specific place, your guys place. the place where he gave you head for the very first time, you found sand up there for at least a day after that.

“do you trust me, sugar?” Jungkook asked you, tugging you to sit next to him on the blanket over the cold sand at the dark lonely beach. it’s like he knew what you were worried about, could you trust him again? it’s not like he broke your trust, it’s about you trusting yourself around him. if anything besides talking happens tonight, and you guys become exactly what you were afraid of becoming, you won’t know what to do with yourself.

it’s a bit selfish you thought, as his hand rested against your shoulder as you snuggled against his neck, breathing in only Jungkook and a little bit of salt. you loved this, but it couldn’t get any farther than this. just small, and slight, touches and sometimes kisses, only at certain times. the sound of the waves crashing tingled your ears, debating if you should listen to his heartbeat or not.

“do you know why i want you out here with me tonight, baby?” his voice vibrated your cheek as he spoke, his fingers gliding against the thin fabric of your long sleeved shirt. you hummed, you felt him swallow before you moved your head to face him.

“i wouldn’t have asked you that a million times in the car, Jungkook,” he smiles when your eyes finally reach his. he used to ask you, what did you see when you looked into his eyes? you usually just laughed it off or ignored the question, but now you think you know the questions answer. Home. in other words, Jungkook was your confort, the one you would go to, the one who makes you feel the safest, the one who keeps you feeling warm. Jungkook was your favorite.

Jungkook leans in, you can almost feel his breath against the wind, you almost forget where you are when you look deeply into his eyes. he leans so close to you that you could almost kiss him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer- and closer to him, until your hovering above him.

you looked down at him, his hand sliding down your waist and on to your thigh to swing your leg over his body. he’s got you now, almost spread wide for him as his eyes glazed your entire body, making your shiver.

“let’s that about why you were so wet when i caught you from eating shit in front of everyone today, huh? or maybe… why you’re so wet right now, was it from the car ride? you just couldn’t wait, hm? baby?” he smacked your thigh, and you almost whimper at his words, “sit down on me, love. you know you want to. i’ll do anything you want me to, just let me in this one or more times and you won’t regret it this time,”

oh boy, you were in for a ride. baby, princess, sugar, darling, bunny, love. hearing that one burned, deeply in two places. your poor heart as you feel his hands grip your sides, and your poor throbbing cunt that it about to get slammed onto his hard on resting below you. either or, you know you’re safe and whatever happens can be dealt with. why? because you’re with Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t it be fine?

a/n: holy shit, this took forever and i sincerely apologize!! i love how this episode turned out and i will give you guys a slight warning! spicy scenes are coming up and I’m not backing down from this. it will be the dirtiest, most greatest- yeah! anyways, thank you for your patience, i love you all🥹

taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @kaiparkerwifes @alextgef @nerdycheol @nightappple @nlr1606 @chl0buggy

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#hyukaslvr #writers on tumblr #kpop fyp #kpop writers #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook bts #bts x reader #bts smut #bts army #bts fic #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #bts x army #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #i love jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkoooook #kpop smut #kpop x reader

[tsukimefuku]

blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento

summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.

tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 

wc: 7.5k

notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.

writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).

disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.

oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?

It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.

Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.

During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.

One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 

"Are you certain it was him?"

"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."

"And how many students did he…"

"Two students from Kyoto."

Your head instantly felt dizzy.

"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."

"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.

 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"

Gojo was silent for a few moments.

"Hey…"

"Tell me. I can take it."

After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.

"Yes. It will."

Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.

For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.

"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."

"Of course."

Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.

He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.

There had been a few casualties, though.

Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.

Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.

To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 

That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.

They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.

Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 

Help was late to arrive.

They were too late for Haibara.

And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.

The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”

At least

There is a body 

To be buried

Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?

In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.

You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.

Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.

In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 

In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.

His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.

He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.

"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.

"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."

"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.

As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 

You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.

"Precisely."

"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."

You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.

For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.

His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.

Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.

Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.

You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.

Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.

"Why did you do it?"

Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.

"It was a necessary means to an end."

His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.

You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.

"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"

"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."

"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"

Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.

"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."

You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.

"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"

He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 

"Don't say his name."

Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.

But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.

This wasn't the case now.

Not entirely, at least.

"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.

"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."

"I'm not a would've been!"

You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 

You finally understood you were in love with him.

Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.

However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.

That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.

After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.

At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.

Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.

It felt like a promise.

Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.

What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.

What a cruel irony.

"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.

"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.

What a fucking low blow.

"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"

You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.

He diverted his gaze back to the window.

"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 

Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.

"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"

"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"

Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.

It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.

And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.

The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.

According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.

And you weren't there.

Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 

The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 

That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.

Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.

You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.

This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?

We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?

Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.

"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."

He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.

"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."

By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.

"The hell I did!"

You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.

"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."

You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.

"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 

Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.

"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."

He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.

"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."

"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.

"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"

"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."

Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."

In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.

However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.

Your own body held you back from taking his life.

He didn't seem to notice.

Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.

"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.

"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.

"You were never the practical one."

You scoffed.

"Guess I learned something from you."

He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 

Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.

You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 

Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.

The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.

You were cornered.

This is it.

You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.

Precise, just as he was.

Deadly, just as he was, too.

You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.

This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.

However, the impact never came.

His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 

“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.

“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 

“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”

You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.

“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 

He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.

“I hate you as well.”

For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 

The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.

"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."

His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.

"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.

"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.

Just fucking kill me already.

His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?

Did he hate you that much?

His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 

His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.

You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.

When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.

"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.

"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.

He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.

You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.

"What?"

You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.

"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.

His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.

Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.

I should be over her by now, dammit.

Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.

You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.

The way he'd cup your face in his hands.

 So delicate, so lovely.

This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.

"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.

He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.

He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.

You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.

"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.

"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.

His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.

In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.

A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.

You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 

Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.

This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.

He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.

Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.

His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.

"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."

You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.

"Go fuck yours-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.

He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.

"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.

His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.

He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."

You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.

"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.

"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 

Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.

You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.

With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.

“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”

His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.

To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.

Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.

“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.

He couldn't help it.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.

He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 

Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.

In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.

Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.

He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.

Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.

You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.

Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.

You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.

If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.

“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”

You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.

After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.

You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.

For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.

With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.

“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 

“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.

But it couldn’t.

You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.

And wouldn’t go now, either.

That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.

Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.

“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.

You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.

Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.

His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.

After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.

You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.

You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.

In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.

But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.

He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 

Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.

You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 

Good riddance to me, I suppose.

His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.

He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.

“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 

You could kiss him like this forever. 

You actually wanted to, at that moment.

To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 

Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.

Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.

You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.

Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.

Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.

Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.

Just like you were.

And just like Nanami was.

You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.

“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.

“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”

For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.

The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”

He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.

Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.

“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.

“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”

He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.

With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 

“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”

For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”

Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.

He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.

You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.

But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.

Not with him, but with the people he had killed.

Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.

It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 

In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.

The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.

With a decade’s old delay.

“I… just can’t. I can’t.”

Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 

He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.

He felt pathetically small.

Guess we get what we deserve, after all.

“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.

You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.

“Go to hell.”

He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.

Sad.

“We’re already here.” 

At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.

You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.

If only the world had been a little kinder.

But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.

End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉

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Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000

@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa

@codenamesongbird

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[fandom-go-round]

Obey Me! Demon Brothers’ #1 kinks?

I did some classics and some new ones here, just having some fun. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Sex, Sexual Situations, Wax Play, Orgasm Denial, Somophilia, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Cock Warming, Voyeurism, Semi Public Sex, Sex Videos, Taking Photos During Sex

Lucifer is really into wax play. Not just the wax of course but the entire set up and prep. Having you willingly give into him, let him tie you up and then trust him to know your limits? He’s so hard it hurts. You’ve already cum twice before he even gets to the candles, the scent your favorite. He’s determined to draw this out so be ready; he’s not going to stop until the flames snuff out.

Mammon is into orgasm denial, both for himself and you. There are days when he’s being extra whiny and bratty. Those are the best days to make him work for his orgasm; he’ll do anything to cum. Be ready for him to flip the scrip though. He wants you to feel good for as long as you let him. He wants all of your attention all of the time. Call him a brat or praise him, as long as you give it your all and Mammon will return it times ten.

Levi’s biggest kink is anal sex. It doesn’t sound like much but it’s the one thing Levi goes back to consistently. He loves are sorts of things but has issues expressing what he really wants. Anal is ‘tame’ enough that he doesn’t mind requesting it and that makes him more comfortable to bring up other kinks. He always wants to use his tail, especially when doing anal. Be clear and gentle with Levi and he’ll reveal all his dirty secrets to you.

Satan loves a long cock warming session. It’s two fold; he loves being close and intimate with you but he’s also a horrible tease and wants to see how long you can hold out. He’ll happily pick up a book or start studying with you in his lap. He might scold you for squirming but he doesn’t mean it; Satan loves seeing how desperate you are for him. If you’re ever able to reverse the positions? He’s not going to last long, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes as he grits his teeth. He’s gorgeous.

Asmo loves voyeurism in all forms. From having sex in a semi-public space to teasing you in public, he’s into it all. He never wants to do it where you’ll actually get caught but the thrill can get him going. If you’re not into that, it’s alright. Asmo also loves to take pictures of you and record videos. His eyes only of course! But if you pose for him and let him snap a quick pic? Oooh he’ll love you even more!

Beel is a man with simple tastes. Simple tastes meaning you on his tongue of course. He’s into oral, not if ands or buts. Beel is happiest between your legs, wherever is most comfortable for you. On the bed? He’ll kneel on the floor. Straddling his face? Don’t worry babe, he’s got you. Against the wall? He’ll hold you up. Just don’t ask him to stop any time soon, he’s content where he is.

Belphie isn’t a huge surprise but he loves sleepy sex. He loves the feeling of being half awake and sliding into you, rolling his hips slowly. It’s even better when you’re the one riding him, barely raising your hips as you fuck yourself on him. He can’t help but mark you up with his teeth and hands; his hips might not be moving but that doesn’t mean the rest of him isn’t.

#obey me imagine #obey me #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmo x reader #beel x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #beelzebub x reader #asmodeus x reader #lucifer imagine #mammon imagine #leviathan imagine #satan imagine #asmo imagine #beel imagine #belphie imagine #belphegor imagine #beelzebub imagine #asmodeus imagine #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

[nicksbestie]

Inside Your Head - N. Sturniolo

Summary : You had no way to block out the thoughts of others, and one specific person just wouldn't leave your mind.

Warnings : descriptions of migraines, 16+ content (no smut, makeout/suggestive content)

Word Count : 2,300

Pairing : Nick Sturniolo/Male Reader (romantic)

A/N : got this idea from a Pinterest prompt!

You had a splitting migraine.

This wasn’t completely uncommon for you, and you had tried to seek out many ways to keep it from happening again. You’d tried painkillers, endless doctor appointments, sleeping more, drinking tons of water, but nothing had worked. Deep down, you knew nothing would fix it, but you were still holding out a little bit of hope that something would blanket the real reason you could never stop the headaches. You could hear the doctor’s disappointment as you explained everything that you had already tried, and you could hear the hope fade out of them. Except when you said you could hear it, it wasn’t a figure of speech like most people used. You could hear their thoughts, just like everybody else. What a bomb drop, right? 

Telepathy really wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Not by a long shot. Sure, it would be cool sometimes if you could choose when to hear what people were thinking, but in your case, that wasn’t possible. Or if it was, you had no idea how to do that, so you got to hear everything, which sometimes hurt your feelings much more than told you juicy secrets. Or other times, the secrets were just plain depressing. You also got to hear all of the gross thoughts, ranging from illegal things to just disgusting ones. You weren’t unattractive, so you got to hear all of the thoughts about yourself as well, but the only thing that sucked was that they all came from girls, and you swung for the other team, so it didn’t really help you out much. 

You had no idea why this had happened to you. You knew what had caused it, but not why it had affected you in this way, and most of the time, it was fucking annoying. You’d been in a traumatic accident as a child, and had suffered a lot of blunt force to your head. You didn’t remember most of it happening. Your only memory was waking up in the hospital to bright lights piercing through your mind, and hundreds of worried voices racing around. Alarm bells didn’t ring for a while, because you were so groggy that you couldn’t tell what was going on. It wasn’t until later that you heard the doctor saying that you didn’t have a high chance of full recovery, wondering why your parents had said anything, when you realized that your doctor’s mouth hadn’t moved. He hadn’t spoken anything out loud. 

You didn’t know what to do, so you didn’t say anything, fear still racing through you and pain beginning to follow it as all of the medication in your veins was starting to slowly wear off. You didn’t even want to think about what had happened to you, let alone other people’s thoughts, so you’d never breathed a word about it, even now, ten years later. After all, if you walked up to someone and told them you could hear all of theirs, and everyone else’s, thoughts, who would believe you? You would probably get reported and sent somewhere for acting crazy, so was it really worth the risk? Besides, people wouldn’t want to be near you if they knew that they could never keep a single thing secret from you, even if you really, really, didn’t want to know about it. 

So here you were, sitting in your best friend’s bedroom, attempting to hang out and talk with him, but all you could focus on was the stabbing pain in your head from the bedroom on the other side of the wall, the loudest internal screaming and cursing you had ever heard. Matt noticed you rubbing the sides of your head, of course he did, but he also knew you struggled with bad headaches a lot, so he simply cut off all of the large lights in his room, trying to help you stay comfortable. He offered for you to go home if you needed to, but you had just gotten there, and you hadn’t seen each other in weeks, so there was no way you were leaving so soon. They had just gotten back to Boston from three weeks in LA, and you’d missed your friends like crazy.

You just really hoped Nick would stop fucking screaming. You didn’t need to check who was in the room, because everyone’s thoughts were in their own voices, and even if they weren’t, you’d still be able to tell that Nick was the only one coming up with such colorful words. Matt only knew that you had really bad migraines, he didn’t know what caused them, so he had no idea how to help you from here, simply letting you have your space, comfortable silence between the two of you. You could hear his thoughts as well, most of them pitying you for being in pain, and a couple about the video game he was playing. You excused yourself, stealing some of the painkillers in the bathroom cabinet, telling Matt you were going to go say hi to Nick. It wasn’t something that raised any alarms with him because you hadn’t really spoken to Nick since you had gotten there, as he was editing in his room.

You fought the urge to wince as the closer you got to Nick’s door, the louder his voice got, but as you knocked, it suddenly stopped, giving you some moments of relief. You sighed deeply, hearing the thought of “who the fuck is that?” before the door opened just a few seconds later. The smile that spread across Nick’s face was worth every moment of pain as he immediately pulled you into a hug, a happy greeting leaving from his lips. You hugged him back, smiling just as wide, hoping that if you were in here he would stop the yelling, and you really just wanted to be around him. His presence was calming, when he wasn’t losing his mind over an argument or editing a new video. 

You liked Nick. A lot, and you couldn’t deny that fact. You’d already tried so many times to pretend like it wasn’t real, that you were kidding yourself, but it hadn’t worked. He didn’t know, obviously, because how could you tell him? He didn’t even know you were gay. Figuring out your sexuality had been a recent development in your life, and thank god nobody could read your thoughts, because it was not pretty. You hadn’t told anyone, and that included all three of the triplets. So part of the reason that you were eager to hang around Nick was just due to the fact that you had a massive crush on him. Sitting down on his bed after finally making it through the doorway, you couldn’t help the fact that the smile didn’t leave your face. 

“You seem frustrated, what’s wrong?” 

Nick shook his head, smiling and gesturing towards the screens he had been editing on.

“This new video is being a pain in the ass to edit, and I’m about at my limit, even though it’s supposed to go up tomorrow.”

You shrugged, laying down and setting your phone down next to you.

“So do it tomorrow, then.” 

He looked at you with an incredulous smile, laying down next to you.

“You’re a terrible influence, my career will go downhill if I listen to you.” 

You laughed, stealing his phone and unlocking it before posting stupid pictures on his Close Friends story that he would probably have to delete later. He laughed with you, taking it back from your hands and posting a ridiculous photo on his public story of the two of you, knowing you were a known figure in his fanbase, so it wouldn’t cause too much uproar.

“I’m a wonderful influence, thank you. You’re clearly stressed, so just take a break, you’re allowed to relax for a bit. I think you should just stop for the day and hang out with me, I fucking missed you.”

“I missed you too, how have things been here?” 

A conversation panned for the next thirty minutes, both of you talking about the different things you had done while in different states, and thoroughly enjoying each other’s company. It wasn’t until you were halfway through a sentence when a thought popped through, and despite it being in Nick’s voice, you had to take a second to figure out if it was your imagination. 

“I really want to kiss him right now.” 

You had gotten another quarter of the way through your sentence before what you had just heard hit you, and you paused. Nick noticed, because he had been watching your face and listening intently, but if you had been able to see yourself through his eyes, you would’ve only seen your lips. He had really only been focusing on those, admiring the way you could spin and tell a story, while he had his supposedly secret thoughts about being able to do more with your lips than just listen to them speak. When you paused, he did too, looking concerned. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, sorry, just had a brain blank.”

You couldn’t tell him. There was no way that you could just spit that out, but as you continued to tell your story, he unintentionally caused you to stop again. 

“He reacted as soon as I thought about kissing him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he could read my mind or something fucking insane like that.”

You covered your shock with a cough, but your cheeks definitely flushed. 

He wanted you the same way you wanted him. 

But you weren’t going to do anything about it, not right this second, at least. You were going to let it sit for a while, because maybe it was just a fluke, an intrusive thought that he hadn’t pushed to the side just yet. But when yet another one of Nick’s thoughts spun around in your head, you didn’t want to wait any longer.

“He’s blushing, what the fuck, why does he look so pretty when he’s blushing?” 

You love to talk, but you swear you had never wrapped up a sentence quicker, just quietly staring at him. He laughed awkwardly, just looking back at you.

“What?” 

“Nothing, I just…” 

You trailed off, staring at Nick’s face, a smile still covering yours, but not an awkward one, one of relief, the stress of concealing a crush no longer on your mind. 

“You just what?” 

Nick still seemed slightly confused, but he had a gentle smile on his face as well, albeit his eyes looking a little concerned. There were a lot of thoughts running around your head, but the main one was: when were you going to get another chance like this? It was that exact question playing on repeat in your mind that caused you to close the small gap between the two of you, gently but firmly pressing your lips against his, one hand holding his. You could hear his mind go completely silent, and you were scared for a moment, wondering if you’d done something wrong, but just as you were about to pull back, Nick’s free hand flew up to cup the side of your face, kissing back, much rougher than your original kiss. This one was full of desperation, longing, the movement of his lips against yours saying everything that his words hadn’t been able to for however long. Pulling back, both of your lips red and gasping in breaths of air, he looked shocked but happiness lit up his eyes.

“You’re an even better kisser than I thought.” 

You softly laughed, staring at him before putting your hand on his face, mirroring yours, and pulling him back in. You’d been daydreaming about this for ages, there was no way you were going to just let it end with only one kiss. You both tried to take control of the kiss, but Nick eventually won, deepening it as he felt you go lax against him. Your mind went completely blank, shutting everything out, lost in the feeling of the man you’d wanted for what felt like forever up against your body. You didn’t process anything happening until you realized Nick was over top of you, only breaking your kiss to breathe before reconnecting the two of you. He finally broke it, a whine leaving your lips as you felt the loss of his. He moved down to leave open kisses on your neck, smiling against you, deep breaths leaving the both of you. 

It was a perfect moment, until it wasn’t. The door opened, and you heard a horrified yell coming from the general area of the doorway. It wasn’t until the person spoke that you realized who it was.

“Are you serious?! You told me you were going to come say hi to him, not this!” 

You couldn’t do anything but laugh against Nick’s skin, the happiness still coursing through you overwhelming the embarrassment that would come later. Nick turned his head, a glare shooting across the room at his brother.

“Matt, get the fuck out.” 

Matt had a hand over his eyes, being as dramatic as he possibly could.

“Ugh. That’s my brother. Gross!” 

He slammed the door behind him as he left, not wanting to see a second more. Nick looked back at you, an exasperated smile on his face, pressing a short kiss to your lips before speaking himself.

“Did he know? About you feeling like this?” 

“No. I was going to tell him, but he figured it out for himself.”

Nick nodded, before returning to what he had been doing before Matt had walked in, only pausing to say one more thing. 

“You’re staying here tonight, right?” 

You smiled up at him. 

“Absolutely. You read my mind.”

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#nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick #nick sturniolo x you #nicolas sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo smut #nick x y/n #nick x reader #nicolas sturniolo headcannons #nicolas sturniolo x y/n #nicolas sturniolo oneshot #nicolas sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo imagine #nicolas antonio sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo x you

[yuri-is-online]

Keep thinking bout Yutu and his relationship to his dad. Like we know a little more about Ace, Floyd, Azul and Riddle (maybe I miss someone else?) but I was curious about other details or interactions with the other Overblot boys.

Like how does talking with someone who tries his best to not get involved in other people's business like Jamil work for making his parents fall in love (if that's even something Yutu can see happening with how distant he is)? How does Yutu go about trying to lay some clues for Vil without being found when Vil's doing his best (with Rook's help) to figure out what's going on?

Or what about the shenanigans Ortho would get to to ensure Idia and Yuu get together so they can try to stop the apocalypse and how would Yutu feel about having at least one person (his uncle at that!) who he can rely on? Or does Yutu ever find himself in a situation that makes him go "oh, I could've had this with dad if it weren't for the council" whenever Malleus says something deep without realizing?

Gaaaaahhhhh I just really like this au and I wanna ask you so many questions but I also don't wanna be annoying

ask is referencing the fyuuture kid au, information on which can be found here and here, or under the series section on my masterlist.

No one is annoying for asking questions! I have asks for Idia and Leona's Yutus, which I think makes every overblot boy except for Jamil and Vil due for a detailed post. Azul! Yutu is a bit of a grey area since I have talked about him a bunch but haven't done detailed hc for him. Yet anyway, Jade and Floyd got one so he needs one too otherwise it'll bug me.

Jamil! Yutu absolutely has a lot of guilt and self hatred around his entire existence. As I talked about in the post about the main cast, Jamil was executed in Yutu's future, and he feels personally responsible for that. If his dad had never fallen in love with Yuu then he would have had a chance at his freedom, that's how Yutu has come to see it anyway. He doesn't want Jamil to fall in love with Yuu, even if it means erasing his existence. Down that road lies only tragedy, but there is also something so beautiful about the way Jamil interacts with Yuu when he thinks no one is looking. There is a degree of mutual respect for how hard the other works and intense desire for approval and praise he can sympathize with. He just doesn't see a way for this to end well if it's allowed to continue, he's a very pessimistic kid Jamil! Yutu. But then again the others didn't have to see the rotted corpse of their father getting dragged around by a blot phantom and be told by a few angry relatives of Kalim that he is the one who put him there.

Vil! Yutu is a bit afraid of his dad. He knows from personal experience that the man is intense and does not take no for an answer but he's never been in the position to see 1) what a good thing that can be or 2) just how silly that can make him act. He's also NEVER had to contend with the real Rook before. The Rook he's familiar with is a mindless monster, dangerous sure, but with patterns you can memorize and protect yourself from. This guy is just wild, sure his dad says that he's only putting up for his behavior "for now" but someone tell him where the fucking line is??? The last thing he wants is to just say everything and risk ruining the timeline but Vil keeps demanding specifics. The main thing Yutu tries to do is get him cooperating with Idia in learning about blot phantoms, the way he sees it things will be much easier if his two most trusted adults are on the same page. It's not a difficult ask either post chapter six, I think Vil is someone who would want to understand what happened to him on a scientific level to some degree, but oh Yutu. Now you've just made him wonder how you know that little piece of information, not everyone knows about his overblot, but he didn't know that bit did he?

Ortho and Idia! Yutu wind up being very close. Having his uncle on his side puts Yutu in a much more stable place emotionally and mentally than other Yutus. They spend a lot of time analyzing old records about blot and phantoms, everyone else is convinced they're just hyping each other up for some weird PhD project inspired by the Ramshackle Prefect's time at NRC and hey. They aren't exactly wrong. As for how they go about trying to get Idia and Yuu together... it's a lot of anime recommendations and conveniently forgetting they had something else to do. Yutu has just as in depth knowledge of Idia's tastes as Ortho does, and the added bonus of knowing Yuu's, so they search through lists of things, pick out the shows they know will get the two of you talking and then sit back and let you interact. Yutu is genuinely confused about why or if this is working... but Ortho did send him a video of his dad hyping himself up to try and ask you out (he over heated and just hid inside his room instead but hey. It's the thought that counts.)

Malleus! Yutu just got his post here. And yes he does think regularly about what he could have had with his father if things had been different, but a lot of those thoughts come from his sillier moments. Hearing Malleus talk at length about ruins or seeing him confused about how to interact with technology make him seem more... human for lack of a better term to him. He's very familiar with the myth of Malleus Draconia, but he wasn't fathered by a myth. He was fathered by a man who fell in love with a human under very extraordinary circumstances and Yutu wants to know about why. What things did Malleus like most about Yuu? About Twisted Wonderland? If he had gotten a chance to be raised by him what things would Malleus have wanted to teach him? Would he be any different?

Azul! Yutu is also afraid of his dad, but not based on any personal experiences just his own insecurities. He's not a thin guy, he's not in Octavinelle, and he is extremely worried that his dad will see him as some sort of stupid muscle head and be disappointed in having him. He's also, understandably, extremely angry at him when he learns what he did in Book 3 to his parent. Fuck this guy, he'll just save Yuu himself and hopefully if they still get together he'll grow up to be a totally different person when he's born in this good timeline. But there's just something about Azul's approval that he can't help but want now that drives him crazy. Why can't he just be ok with being alone? He has been all this time anyway...

(Meanwhile Azul is deeply impressed with how well Yutu is at disguising himself as a dumb muscle head. Just look at the kid, he's got everyone thinking he just is controlling their shadows while he's actually using a really complicated bit of cosmic magic. Suckers all of them. Not him though. He's not being fooled by anything about Yutu, no sir.)

Leona, Leona, Leona. He's tricky for me to write. Scar apparently has children? In one the the Lion King sequels? Leona's dislike of kids seems to come from his complicated feelings around the throne and his want for people to be independent. I think he would be one of those gruff intense kind of dads who does the whole "we are never getting a pet" thing and then you see him asleep on the recliner with Princess Nooodles III chilling on his lap with him. Anyway back to Yutu-

Leona! Yutu's relationship with his dad is tempered by the fact Leona knows who and what he is from the start and demands to know why he has traveled back in time. He doesn't explicitly say he knows that he is his father or that Yuu is his other parent, just that he knows time travel is involved, so they have a fairly open amount of communication regarding the overblot "business" but not on much else. Yutu has a desire to understand his father and Leona has a desire to not disappoint him. Who would want their dad to be the second prince? He's destined for nothing but a miserable life anyway, all of the responsibility and none of the privilege (outside of the money but lets be real, Leona's ass does not understand that.) I don't think either Leona or Yutu fully understands that his existence is enough for the other to be happy. When they are forced to talk about it they both laugh it off and roll their eyes at how cheesy that sounds but deep down it means a lot to both of them.

Riddle! Yutu has gotten a lot of posts about him and his "hatred" of his dad but I thought I'd take this post to mention I like the idea of Yutu's favorite food being the chestnut tarts/mont blanc that aren't allowed at Unbirthday Parties but that Riddle still wanted to eat anyway. He's a lot like his father in his love of sweets and his determined denial of it, but he isn't the exact same. Also gives him one more thing to pick a fight with Riddle over (his dad doesn't get the big deal, they can just have a private tea party with Yuu and have all the different sweets they want... can't they?)

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #overblot boys

[mhsdatgo]

The Helaemonds/Helaegons need to calm down.

Don't get me wrong, it's always refreshing to see some people fill in the gaps of a basically untold relationship such as the one between the green kids in general, but this goes beyond basic obsessive shippy discourse. Leave this poor girl alone. Why's there an obsession with having her be romantically paired with her brothers, one worse than the other?

I understand the show has basically shown so little of her to the point where we didn’t even have a coronation for her on screen, so therefore you can self insert through her and have fun with headcanons regarding Aegon and Aemond. Really, I'm not faulting their girlies, you can be head over heels for whatever actor in character you want (unless you put them on pedestals and start acting like they did nothing wrong and pounce on whoever contests them, THEN we have a problem) but I assure you, Helaena would barely want anything to do with either of them.

Aegon is a sex pest turned sex offender, a drunkard and a neglectful father and husband at best. Her infamous toast in ep.8 has us believing that he cannot for the life of him interact with her unless he's horny drunk or that he forces himself on her at worst.* He was ready to leave them all in ep.9 before he was caught. Even the book is subtle about their relationship: all we know of them is that they sleep in shared chambers, that she was someone important and reliable in Aegon's council before B&C, and that he named her and Alicent the true Queens of his reign.

*(⚠️TW: PERSONAL OPINION⚠️ I'm not saying this last one isn't a possibility but it's sill outrageous for the way people speak about Helaena in defence of this "claim". No, she wouldn't joke about her own r*pe in front of the whole table full of people she doesn't know and right beside her abuser, and despite the hour-long metas I've read about how she's basically "too sheltered" to know what r*pe even means, I assure you she's a high-functioning autistic, not 5 years old. She can understand it perfectly.)

Helaemond is a pure show invention, I honestly wasn't expecting this many people to go up this kind of train. They barely interact, and most of the time it's Aemond saying he'd "perform his duty" should Helaena ever be wed to him, or that stare in ep.9 when he enters her chambers toiling after Alicent. It's, as always, the Aemond girlies who think poor Helaena would live her best life with Aemond, or that they are already romantically involved behind the scenes. The amount of "if one possesses a thing, the other will take it away" edits from people that are FULLY CONVINCED "the thing" is Helaena and that "the one" and "the other" are Aemond and Aegon respectively is honestly concerning.

Fics that are all about Aegon doing the worst and unspeakable things to her so "Aemond can come and save her" are y'all okay? Out of all people, HE has to save her?

Babes, I'm sorry to break your bubble, but this isn't Aegon IV/Naerys/Aemon on steroids. Aemond didn't give two shits about Helaena. No, he wasn't jealous when Jace came to ask her to dance, he just wanted to stir some shit. If we talk about the books, he didn't fucking hesitate to leave King's Landing, his sister, his mother and whatever he was doing for the Riverlands the second he heard that Daemon was there. And he brought the only means of defence they had with him. If he knew how important Vhagar was for the city's defence, he's evil, if he didn't realize it, he's dumb as fuck. Which one is it, Aemond girlies?

People beat each other to the curb about Jaehaerys, Jaehaera and Maelor's paternity like it's the Wars of The Roses. They put Helaena and Alys against the other like they have personal beef with one of them.

Stop mentioning this sweetheart only when it's about praising or hating one of her brothers. No, it's not the only option you have because she's underdeveloped as a character. There's actually another one.

LEAVE HER THE FUCK ALONE.

#house of the dragon #fire and blood #helaena targaryen #pro helaena targaryen #helaena deserved better #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #anti helaemond #anti helaegon

[actual-changeling]

one thing i really really like about txf is that they aren't afraid to kill off characters.

in most shows, melissa would make a miraculous recovery, mulder probably wouldn't lose both his parents, and there are all the episode-specific characters that are killed simply because

a) it fits right into the plot

b) they can and

c) it adds a layer of realism to it.

if you never kill any of the characters—even minor side characters/npcs—then at some point, the dangers will feel less dangerous, less real, because you know everyone will be fine anyway. but not here.

the stakes ARE real and we are shown and told so over and over again.

scully loses her dad, melissa gets killed in her apartment, mulder's dad is killed, mulder's mom kills herself, there is no miraculous, perfect return of samantha, scully gets cancer, OTHER (returning) characters get sick and die, and the list goes on.

nowadays, way too many people are incapable of consuming anything that isn't 99% "everything will be fine" because processing complex emotions requires complex thinking, and boy are people refusing to develop that skill.

ironic to say, but txf is refreshing in regards to that AND has better representation that most shows and movies being created in recent years. do you know how fucking rare it is to have disabled characters that simply exist? whose disability is right there, it's real, they're not somehow hiding it or trying to make it less obvious.

they are like any other characters, and unless it is in some way relevant to the plot, it's usually not even brought up or mentioned. no misery or inspiration porn, no weird "you're not disabled, you're [insert term that's fucking horrible]", nothing.

even with episodes like gender bender, there is no transphobia, no caricatures, it's treated like any other case with any other people.

you'd expect a lot of ableism in a show about the paranormal since "crazy mentally ill person is a danger to everyone" is a popular trope (disappointing but not surprising), yet as someone who has highly stigmatized disorders—not just in general, specifically in the medical field too—I don't think I have ever felt uncomfortable with any of the cases.

people look back on older shows and start criticizing the language but not only were the terms and concepts named differently and have evolved, i'd rather have a show use "bad" or incorrect language but have genuine, caring representation than someone using all the buzzwords and thinking that makes whatever they do not offensive.

(side note: language moves fast, especially in psychiatry but also in other scientific circles, and the same applies to what i'll loosely call 'community language'. as long as there's good intent and an open ear, i couldn't give less of a fuck if they say transgender, transsexual, or transvestite)

i'm rewatching 'the field where i died' and this episode has one of the best, most accurate portrayals of DID i've seen in probably. ever. is it played up a bit? yeah sure, but it doesn't feel mocking or otherwise disrespectful and it refuses to play into any existing stereotypes.

this post got away from me, but bottom line is that this show is genuinely good in a way few shows are.

#alex watches x files #txf #the x files #x files #msr #txf meta #x files meta

[theoldsports]

Spontaneous.

Art Donaldson x Reader

oops. it’s gonna be a series. i’m developing Lore. let me know what you think and where to go next.

warnings: 18+ please, drug use mention, drinking (underage), kinda sexual content.

Fancy parties were loathsome. [Y/N] thought so, at least. She hated being told to stop calling them fancy parties and shindigs and to call them by their proper names: galas, benefits, balls, whatever. It was exhausting. Her feet weren’t meant to be elegantly jammed into spike heels. [Y/N] liked the height she was, thank you very much.

Did supporting charitable causes have to feel so degrading?

Capitalism at its finest.

[Y/N] had been attending these things since she was a little girl. Seven or eight years old. So young, in fact, that she now can’t remember what demographic or ailment-research, or political party this goddamn yearly spring shindig was for. Mr. and Mrs. Zweig were always nice to her when she was a child. She wasn’t just a family-friend, she (and her parents) felt like friends that were family.

What made the lavish Zweig parties tolerable was Patrick Zweig. She had known Patrick as long as there had been parties to get dressed up for. He had scraped her off a marbled staircase step as a little girl when her polished pleather mary janes didn’t have the traction to keep her upright. She had cried when she fell. He had said: “you’re really loud, you know that?” And she had laughed. So they were doomed to spend eternity hiding in coat rooms and getting tipsy together at these things.

Patrick was never one of those boys that felt the need to turn his back on [Y/N] during the cooties years, or the so-she’s-your-girlfriend? years. The pair of them always managed to be simply themselves and that was enough. He was merciless and unapologetic, but he made a hell of a best friend.

[Y/N] was two months older than Patrick, and had been taller for their first two years of friendship. When his shift in stature occurred, it happened fast.

Patrick went away to boarding school and came back a gangly beast. [Y/N], though they hadn’t spent every waking moment (weekends and school days) together since he had left her for a racket and a tennis ball, was always pleased to see Patrick was still himself every time he came home. Louder and stupider each time, but still Patrick.

Though, one spring break was different. Eleventh grade, if [Y/N] recalled correctly. Patrick came home, tall and stupid as ever, toting a boy named Art Donaldson.

Art Donaldson was considerably smaller, and debatably less stupid than Patrick Zweig. [Y/N] understood that day why all the girls in her grade giggled about boys. [Y/N] could never tell Patrick that. He would have been insufferable about it.

Actually, [Y/N] felt jealous. That was also a secret. Because Art, unlike she and Patrick, was nice. Everybody liked him. Nobody ever talked shit about him. Adults loved him and his small-town boy manners. He actually was a rambunctious little jerk, but nobody else saw that. Everyone else got yes sir, yes ma’am, I’m well, how are you? He could turn that charm on and off like a faucet. Infuriating, right?

[Y/N] was also jealous because it was clear she had been replaced.

Patrick lit up like a Christmas tree when he was with Art. He never looked at her like that. Art must have been a better friend to him then she was. Patrick called her once a week to talk for years, but Art slept, like, six feet away from him. It simply wasn’t fair.

Because of that, [Y/N] remembers spring break was really hard. [Y/N] was acutely aware she had lost something she didn’t know she could lose to the human version of a fucking beagle.

[Y/N] couldn’t remember the grade they were in exactly, but she did remember the dress she wore to the Zweigs’ party that year. It was light green and had spaghetti straps. It was longer and more form-fitting than what she was used. Most of the girls her age had settled for lots of tulle and cheetah-print so [Y/N] looked more mature by comparison. It was the first time [Y/N] remembered feeling grown up at all.

To think she thought that all her excitement and contentment was wasted. [Y/N] sat in a plastic pool chair in the backyard curled up with her cork wedge platforms resting dangerously close to the water. She nursed a bottle of vodka she had swiped two months ago from her parents liquor cabinet to surprise Patrick. Meticulously, she had waited for them to be out of town and found the key to the liquor cabinet. A whole bottle just for [Y/N] and her best friend. [Y/N] had barely managed to keep it a secret that she had taken it. She had been so proud of herself and thought Patrick would be too.

Now, she was the only one around to drink it.

Patrick had put his warm, familiar hands on her shoulders and told [Y/N] to wait right there and that he and Art would be back in a sec. The two boys had vanished upstairs presumably to Patrick’s room with laughter spilling from their mouths. [Y/N] sat at the base of the stairs alone for twenty minutes.

According to the garish clock on the wall, at twenty-one minutes, [Y/N] disappeared to the pool. She officially hated Patrick too. He had left her alone at parties plenty of times, and she him. They’d dance with others, or sneak off for a makeout session with a pretty stranger. It had never been a big deal either way. This felt like deliberate abandonment for no good reason. That was a first.

“Whoa, save some for the rest of us.” A reedy voice called out. Art Donaldson. [Y/N]’s head glanced over her shoulder so fast at the sound that she almost made herself dizzy. It took little time to realize there was no Patrick with him.

[Y/N] pulled the bottle closer. “That was a really long one sec,” She replied. She planned to say that eventually in the wasted minutes she waited, but it sounded less cool now than it did in her head. [Y/N] sounded plain mopey and that was a shame. “What’d you guys do anyway? Where’s Patrick?”

Art shrugged and walked further into view. He looked a bit sheepish. “Being Patrick,” He didn’t answer the first question she asked. There was a half-smile tugging at his lips. Art looked nice. Brown dress shoes, navy jacket, white shirt. No tie. She could have sworn that had been a tie at some point earlier. His shaggy blonde hair was mussed, but she had yet to observe it being neat. It was fustrating how effortlessly nice he looked. [Y/N] thought that everyday from day one. “It’s getting kinda cold. You wanna head back inside? I was looking for you—“

“I’m alright here, but thanks,” she slurred slightly. “You head in. I’m not here to ruin your fun.” It had sounded bitter. She hadn’t meant for it to.

Art sighed and glanced away from her. He paused a moment and sighed. “I’m not here to ruin yours either, y’know.”

“You don’t have to make this into a thing. It’s fine.”

“Well, too late. Patrick’s being an ass. I don’t want you out here feeling like I’m some homewrecker. I’ve been on the receiving end of shit like this from him, too. He’s not trying to be nasty to you, ‘promise. Come on, I’m not gonna let you freeze out here.” Art said, stepping in a bit. The glow from the pool left green and white wiggly lines across his cheeks.

“It’s spring, It’ll warm up. Get back up to that party, man. Patrick’s waiting for you.”

“You’re being impossible.”

[Y/N] set the half-empty bottle down beneath her chair. “Nuh-uh.”

“Jesus… if you’re gonna be a jerk about it, at least take this.” Art frowned, shrugging out of his suit jacket. He seemed disappointed.

“Oh, Art, please—“

“No, no! You made your choice. Don’t let me spoil your fun with you and the… the vodka,” Art said, making a show of taking the jacket off and throwing it over to [Y/N]. The balled up lump of fabric landed in her lap with a soft thud. Her stomach churned. “All hunky dory now,” He said, holding his hands out to show he was no threat. Art’s brows were lowered protectively close to his eyes in what [Y/N] thought was an effort to mask slight hurt or rejection. He turned to walk away as [Y/N] clutched the fabric of his jacket between her fingers. Art turned back to to look at her for a moment. [Y/N] didn’t know what that expression was meant to mean. “Be careful, okay? For what it’s worth, you—you look lovely tonight. It would be a shame for such a, uh, such a pretty girl in a pretty dress to end up face down, stuck in the pool drain. ‘Night [Y/N].”

[Y/N] was glad for the dark because she felt her face heat up and dopey smile start to form at the compliment. Maybe she was drunk, but that had to be flirting. In the most fucked up way possible, but still. Why? Art Donaldson didn’t even like her.

Art had only managed to take a few steps into the dewy grass when [Y/N] begrudgingly called out: “Art, wait!”

She hated that she liked the smirk on his face when he turned around. He could tell what she wanted by her tone. What kind of fucker takes no for answer happily and still sets himself up for a yes in the end. “Yes?” He asked, trying not to smile.

“Listen, you’re right—“ [Y/N] stood up confidently, sliding Art’s jacket around her shoulders. And she stood up too fast and knocked her sandals into the pool. “Shit!” She cursed. She was still an age where cursing felt cool and unfamiliar. [Y/N] stood on her unsteady feet and watched her sandals bob out to the middle of the pool, propelled by her kick. She was embarrassed now as well. The stakes of everything felt so much higher than sandals in the pool of her best friend’s backyard. Booze will do that to the sanest of folks. [Y/N] dropped her face heavily into her hands. Great.

Quickly, Art cut his eyes between her and the shoes and back again. “Where do they keep the pool net?” Art asked calmly, without missing a beat.

“The shed.” [Y/N] said miserably and pointed a few feet away. Art bounded across the pavement around the pool to the shed. He tugged once, then twice.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. “It’s locked,” He reported to [Y/N] from practically halfway in the pruned hedges. Art started the walk back to her. Once he was beside her, Art placed a hand gently at her elbow. “Come back inside with me. Please. Patrick may be able to get us a key and we can…”

But [Y/N] looked so sad from behind her hands. Even though all of this was so childish. She was also wearing Art’s jacket now and that did things to his brain. Her dress wasn’t not low cut and he froze for a second. All he could do was stare.

“Just do what I would do,” Patrick said. “It’ll be fine, man. She’s already into you, I can tell.”

“Well, if she’s into me, why would I do what you would do? That’s an awful suggestion, Patrick.” Art protested.

Patrick spun around in his desk chair to face Art as he rolled a joint. “I’ve known her since before I knew you. Just, like, be spontaneous. That’s what I mean. Spontaneous. She’s into that because she’s like that too. And she’s… wicked mean, so don’t start shit. She’ll surprise you, but like, in a good way. What I said before makes me sound like a jackass,” Patrick paused to laugh. “Be in the moment. Don’t get in your head about it. Which you’re doing right now— I can tell, Arthur…” Patrick drew out Art’s full name (which he hated) to get under his skin.

Art stood up from the floor in frustration. He glanced at his watch. Too much time had passed. The window was metaphorically closing. Hastily, Art dashed to the door. “I’m going down there. Poor girl’s been waiting all this time because you, my friend, are a shitty advice-giver.”

“Spontaneous!” Patrick called after him with a grin.

Art stared at [Y/N]. Then he blinked. Then tilted his head to the side. Spontaneous. Before he knew it, he was tugging his shoes and socks off and diving into the pool. Art had been right, it was getting decisively cold and the pool water reflected that. Art swam out to where the wedges had floated too, which had actually been fairly far. He wasn’t sure if the net would have gotten them that easily. Art nicked the shoes by the ankle straps and shook his wet hair out of his face. As he paddled back, he glanced at [Y/N]’s expression. She smiled wide with joy and surprise at Art’s sacrifice.

“Art! Thank you so much!” She said when he flopped the waterlogged shoes onto the concrete. Art looked up at her from the water and he only looked up her skirt a little bit.

“It’s no trouble. Repayment’s in order, though.”

“Repayment…? What do you—“

Art wrapped his wet, callused hands around both of [Y/N] ankles and flipped her into the pool. She screamed as she splashed into the pool. Then laughed hard. Art wanted to hear that laugh for the rest of his life.

“Wait, fuck, you can swim, right?”

Fortunately, [Y/N] could, and that’s the move that won Art Donaldson his wife.

—

“Honey, you have to get up so you can get ready…” Art’s mouth moved against the shell of [Y/N]’s left ear. His arm was tossed over her middle. Normally, it was Art that dreaded getting out of bed, but clearly they enjoyed switching roles once in a while.

A nap had turned into two-and-a-half hours of [Y/N]’s soft snores while Art held her. He couldn’t sleep much, but luckily he had something beautiful to look at. She ripped into him about his staring problem all the time. Art couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. “No.” She mumbled.

“Please…” Art’s hand trailed under her shirt and climbed up, up, up.

“No,” she sighed. Art’s hands groped her left breast and [Y/N] didn’t particularly mind. She shivered at the contact. Art had known every inch of her body over years. Neither was bored yet, though.

“It’s one night. One party. We don’t have to stay all night… He’s not going to be there, Lenora told me when I RSVP’d.”

They had an unspoken rule. They did not name Patrick in conversation when sober. The wound was too fresh still.

“Don’t talk about him, or his fucking mom when you’re touching me like that,” [Y/N] all but moaned as Art’s left thumb circled her nipple. “‘Thought we had to get up…”

Art smirked. “We do. At least you’re awake now.” He teasingly withdrew his hand entirely from out of her shirt and scampered out of bed in one agile zip of a motion.

“Art!”

She groaned. Rolling on her back to look at the ceiling, she glanced over at Art walking through the master bathroom doorway in his briefs. What an incredible ass that man has. “Motivation to leave the party early.” Art said and popped off into the shower.

Maybe it was selfish. Patrick and [Y/N] and Art hadn’t spoken in almost a year. It was no surprise to the Donaldsons that Patrick was an addict. He had been addicted to almost everything and everyone that crossed his path. What they hadn’t expected was him becoming so out of control that he missed the wedding of his two best friends and was sent into rehab once he was declared medically stable. The one person that both Donaldsons had fought to have in their own personal half of the wedding party. And he wasn’t there. And the wedding was expensive enough to go through with it amid all the bad feelings over Patrick.

Still, they were invited to the Zweig family’s charity or whatever gala. They would go like they always had, too. But it would be their first time alone, so to speak.

[Y/N] regretfully got out of bed while Art showered. She moved to the closet and unzipped her paper thin dress bag. The gown itself was beautiful, but not all too expensive. The year had been tight in terms of money. The wedding and the honeymoon were pricey enough before you added in rackets and competition entry fees and coaching. Art was an expensive husband to have. He made up for it. He was playing at his best too, so [Y/N] hardly cared. Who could put a price on seeing Art smile like that?

[Y/N] cringed if she had to pay more than two-hundred dollars for shoes or a dress anyway.

The dress was green. She’d worn a lot of green since she met Art. [Y/N] dreaded wiggling into shapewear and spending too long on her hair. Art had it easy. A tie, a jacket and trading his nasty watch for his nicer one. It wasn’t fair. It never was with Art.

She got ready all the same. The straps rested on her shoulders, thicker than the early 2000s straps she had been dumped into the pool in. It was longer than that dress. Almost floor length instead of mid calf. It was elegant for its price tag.

Once the dress was on, [Y/N] tumbled into the bathroom to do her makeup. The shared counter was way too small for both of their shit to sit nicely on. She would complain about that when there was more money in the bank account to do something about it. Art was taking longer than normal in the shower. Boner, [Y/N] thought.

As she started to put her face on, she could see Art’s face in the foggy mirror behind her. The sound of the water stopping and the shower curtain being tossed back had gone unnoticed. He was smiling slightly. “You look nice.” He said softly. Art toweled off his shaggy hair harshly behind her. He kept looking at her.

This is how Art was. He made these remarkable heart eyes at her every time he saw her. [Y/N] could be wearing a potato sack and she would feel beautiful. That look, that staring problem, was worse a hundredfold when she was dressed up. He kept glancing at her. She could see him in the mirror. He wanted [Y/N] to see. The blue and brown of his eyes cast further and further down her body.

“Staring.” [Y/N] said simply. She didn’t even look away from her own face in the mirror.

“Yeah. And?” Art smiled cheekily. His face was bright red not from the warm shower water. He wrapped his towel around his slim waist. [Y/N] applied too much concealer and less blush. “I, of all people, am allowed.”

“Idiot.” [Y/N] said. Art dried his hands profusely on his towel, knowing she would squawk at him if he left wet handprints behind on her dress.

Art’s hands wrapped around her waist. Great pains were taken to prevent other wet spots from splopping up her dress. So, so gently, he kissed the left side of her neck from behind. “I was thinking—” Art was always gentle in his own way.

“Ooh, dangerous.”

“Shut up. Y’know, this is the first Zweig party where your placecard is going to say Donaldson on it…”

[Y/N] nodded softly. “Huh. Yeah. That’s true.” She said, smiling a bit.

“I’m really, really excited about that. On the seating chart, we’re the Donaldsons. Isn’t that so crazy…?” Art whispered into her plush skin. “Plural. Two of us.”

Teasingly, she nudged him back with her elbow. The smile was still wide on her lips. “You’re being such a girl about it.”

Art didn’t let go or relent. He pressed feather-light kisses between [Y/N]’s ear and collarbone. “Am I? Hadn’t noticed.”

“We’re going to be late to this thing you want to go to so bad, Mr. Donaldson, if you don’t stop.” [Y/N] whispered, incapable of doing more. She did set down her makeup sponge and pot of foundation with a clack.

“Would that be such a bad thing? Only a couple minutes, right? We could-we could cut out some of the boring small talk and…” Art said, daring boldly to drag his tongue up her throat as the steamed up mirror cleared some. He never finished his sentence verbally.

[Y/N] gasped at the feeling. That was a brave move for Art. “You drag me out of bed early so we can be late anyway. You don’t make any s-sense, babe.”

He huffed impishly. Art spun [Y/N] around to face him. His face and shoulders were damp from the water collected in his hair, which desperately needed a trim. Carefully, Art brushed [Y/N]’s hair away from her face. “You’re right… I’m sorry. Please let me make it up to you?”

“How?”

Then, Art’s mouth quirked into that crooked smile she loved so much.

“Please.” Art said in a hushed voice and boosted [Y/N] smoothly onto their rickety counter. “Give me ten minutes.”

“You can do better than ten.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Clock’s ticking.” When she said it, she heard Art’s knees hit the tile in front of her.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson #challengers movie #challengers #patrick zweig #tashi duncan

[taylorswiftstylequestions]

“I also personally LOVE the delusion of "Everyone we know understands why we're meant to be" because it's so integral to the entire point of the song” — THIS THIS THIS. Remember, that line comes after she admits that they’ve both told their friends separately that they’ll kill themselves if the other leaves, one of the biggest and most obvious red flags a relationship can have. As someone who’s had a friend say something similar to me in the past, I can guarantee that everyone most certainly did not understand why they’re meant to be — if Jack’s experience was anything like mine, that statement would have gotten an anxious laugh and an internal she doesn’t mean that seriously, right? The relationship described in little ttpd is neither healthy nor romantic. The narrator is trying desperately to convince herself it is, which is why she’s telling herself all their friends are on board with it when it’s not entirely clear if they are (notice that we don’t hear Lucy or Jack’s reactions to these very concerning statements — we have to take Taylor’s word that they understand why they’re meant to be*, and a recurring theme throughout especially the first half of this album is that Taylor isn’t always the most reliable narrator). For that reason I don’t really struggle with the “how could she write this about HIM??” feelings with little ttpd in the same way I do for songs like loml. Little ttpd is just a detailed accounting of what she’s summarizing in icfh(nric) — an unhealthy, rapidly failing relationship built on lovebombing and delusion. And I am totally fine assigning that to Mr. Smallest Man Who Ever Lived (said jokingly — obviously with the paternity test disclaimer and understanding that Taylor’s music is much more than the men who may have potentially inspired it)

*and yes I realize that all of Taylor’s work is technically based on us taking her word for things, and that even if she gave us the full conversation we would still be taking her word that it’s true, but I think even with that she’s still presenting herself as an unreliable narrator in this song and that the choice to leave out her friends’ reactions/responses was an intentional one

This was fantastically said friend and I so agree and I also think that this extra bit of Required Reading is perhaps why Poets might have such a higher barrier to entry for listeners and also why some of its earliest criticisms lose weight once you give the album its due and listen to it the way it was meant to be consumed - over a long period of time and with careful consideration to the context and the intent of the artist.

The album is too long and overly, unnecessarily wordy. Yes.

Some of the lyrics are super cringe and weird and awkward. Yes.

It's really gross that she's romanticizing being in love with someone who's not a good person. Y E S. YES?!?!?!??! YES!!!!!!

THAT'S THE POINT. THAT'S THE POINNNNNNNNNT! THAT'S THE POINT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And yes completely agree that while there's a precedent set that if you're listening to a Taylor Swift song you're getting her *biased* POV as in her version of events (which, tbh, her version of events usually goes reasonably unrefuted by people which I'm led to believe means it's typically close to right even if it's fuelled by her own biased personal emotions). But never elsewhere in her disco as we do on TTPD do we have to confront the fact that her biased POV is also a really fucked up one that she herself does not even necessarily believe but is doing her best to convince herself that it's true and good for her and right. And you have to be actively hearing and discerning and comprehending and analyzing what she is saying and how she is saying it in order to *get that*.

Poets inherently does not reward passive listening. And if you tuned out once you grasped who a song might* be about because you personally dislike them** you miss almost the entire point of what Taylor is trying to communicate.

#tss ttpd party #*paternity testing feminism art matters centralize her emotions not the person etc etc etc etc #**youre also allowed to do this if it gets you through the song / services you - the art belongs to you now! im just saying if ... #... understanding HER intent is the goal you won't get there if you ignore this piece

[coffyao]

one more time

Summary:

Long-term abstinence has been the best TLC you have ever had after breaking off a turbulent relationship, but as of recently, you have started to crave the feeling of being ruined once again. But since emotional bonds are no longer on the table, perhaps being drained physically will sufficiently do the job…

link to my a03: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaloopsyland

I’ve had my terrible share of relationships. They had a few things in common and that was that they all had a handsome face and body, but it was juxtaposed by their horrible personalities and lack of self-control. After the end of my fourth one, the only person I realized who was to blame was myself. I kept coming back to them, hoping that things could be better between us.

Well, that was the optimistic lie I deluded myself with.

--

 If I had to be completely candid, then it would have to be the back-and-forth that I enjoyed every time we argued. It would have been the way he would hurt me with his words but soothe me back to life with the presents he showered me with.

It would have to be the way he would scream at my face, with saliva and all with eyes that fucked every part of my soul.

It excited me because I knew that my body would be in for a rough time.

however, as much as my body felt satisfied, the emotional drawback of all of those relationships inevitably made me leave. The control and the horrific jealousy that came from their hypocritical mouths was something I could no longer take and the damage that I had at the end of it, had to be something I had to fix.

So, I decided to remain celibate for a while.  I didn’t count the months or days, so I didn’t remember how long it had been.  Then I decided to browse the internet one day.  It must have been on a Saturday night; I was wearing a black satin nightie, and I couldn’t stand the quietness in my house.

 so, I switched on my television to have ambiance in the background, so I could feel less lonely. I had my laptop on my lap, and I was trying to find ways to get off.  Then I came across an advert and being as absent-minded as I was, I ended up clicking on it.

It was an advert for gigolos.

 I had never heard of such a thing. But I was curious. So, I scrolled down, and on each page, did it contain profiles of terribly attractive men. 

But younger men, to be precise.

 But I wasn’t old, so I was truthfully offended that my own algorithm recommended this. But that feeling washed over me quickly when I came across a profile that made every single follicle on my skin stand up.  I had to immediately turn my screen brighter.

The first thing that I noticed about his pictures was his green eyes, sharp like emeralds and intimidating like venomous snakes. He certainly wasn’t timid about the assets he had either, as those pictures flaunted the muscles that were underneath his tight, black shirt. His biceps were huge, and the tiny fang that had shown itself when he smiled was a nice touch.

But that wasn’t what convinced me.

What convinced me was the scar that was across his left eye, like it had its own story to tell.

I was intrigued by it.

So, I reached out, and like a starving hyena, he loved that opportunity.

__

He suggested that we meet at an Italian restaurant since it was the most casual non-casual way of setting up a date.  I had no desire to, but he insisted otherwise because he wanted to get to know me first.

But I felt nervous because I could sense what type of person he would be. most likely emotionally unavailable, had a loose tongue, and nothing to show for it except for his amazing body and extraordinarily great skills in bed.

My exact fucking type.

So, I was sitting in my seat and overdressed in my slip midi dress, makeup, and strapped stiletto heels. It was an early evening when it was at its busiest, and I ordered a bottle of pink prosecco, already on my third glass as I awaited his arrival. Many of the people in the restaurant were couples which was hardly a surprise at all, and a perfect way of making sure we blended in with them as well.

I didn’t want anyone to know what kind of relationship we had.

Then he came in. He wore about anyone would expect from a man, which was a black blazer with a slightly opened white shirt and trousers.

But the greatest difference was that they weren’t him.

and he wore it like it was entirely his.

And when he arrogantly stuffed his hands into his trousers and walked like he was the only person in the room, I couldn’t say I hated it.

He then casually sat down on my table, shoulders relaxed, and grabbed his wine glass, gesturing it towards me.

“…Aren’t you going to pour me a drink first?”

I twisted open the prosecco, and vigorously poured the drink into his glass, hoping some of it would spill onto his face.

“Appreciate it.”

He took a sip and placed the glass to the side, leaning forward.

“…So, from the details that you have sent me,” as he kept his voice low, “I understand that you don’t want companionship, is that right?”

“That’s right.”

An emotional connection built overnight meant absolutely nothing if I had to pay my way to see him.

He scoffed sarcastically, keeping his intense gaze on me.

 “… so, then it's straight to business huh?”

He snatched the wine glass, and drank the rest of his drink, setting it down and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“Because I really did intend on courting you. good conversation and whatnot.”

Not if we are only seeing each other once.

He also had a tactless way of talking to women, saying whatever he wanted and felt. It was evident through his text messages, but it was glaring when they met face-to-face.

But his lack of manners was the least of my concerns.

I shook my head, “…I don’t care for any of that, because it’s fake.”

“…what part of it is fake?”

“You. Your fake. But that’s why I chose you.”

He slowly leaned back on his chair, rubbing his chin in thought before leaning closer and revealing his grin, nonchalant yet with an underlying tone of danger to it.

“…Well, then you would be right. I don’t really give a shit about you.”

Fuck.

“But that’s the unfortunate news neither of us care about. Do you wanna hear somethin better?”

Even though the restaurant was loud, I had a paranoid inkling that someone was listening in to our conversation, a conversation we really shouldn’t be having, so I brought my ear closer to him, so he could say exactly what he needed to say.

“If there’s one thing that I do care about, then it would be making sure I…”

Then, he stopped speaking and pulled away.

“can’t ruin the element of surprise, now, can I?”

He stood up from his seat and snatched the bottle from the table.

“… a bit of that liquor courage just in case,” he murmured and tipped the rest into his mouth.

Fucking cocktease.

__

Once we started to head towards our hotel room, where the corridors remained quietly vacant, and the moon hit the reflection of the window, I thought a part of me would start feeling regretful.

I was waiting for it to hit me, to convince me that perhaps I wasn’t going about this the right way.  it was the reason why I searched up many advice forums, so I could console myself, and reach a place where I could heal.

But it was all a mistake.

And it’s because I wanted to fix myself the only way I knew how.

-

“…Are you going to open the door, or should I?”

And I didn’t need a gentleman.

“No need, I will,” I said, inserting the key into the lock.

I just wanted an unapologetic waste of space.

I opened the door, and he followed, closing it after me.

He then wrapped his arms around me and pressed a single kiss on my neck, the sharp scent of prosecco stinging my skin.

“…I told you, liquor does wonders to your confidence.”

“But does someone like you even need it? Your ego is plentiful already…”

“…Well, that’s where you’re a little bit off the mark I’m afraid.”

He then starts moving his large hands toward the middle of my dress, using his fingers to fondle the sides of my breasts.

He whispered against my ear.

 “...couldn’t be bothered to wear a bra?”

“…wasn’t for you. It was for my comfort.”

A partial lie.

“Ah ah, but I didn’t ask you if it was for me,” he tutted, repeating the continuous motion, his fingers, ever so subtly, brushing my nipples.

“You just assumed I did, how perverted do you think I am?”

“…v-very if you keep touching me like that,” I tried stating calmly, but it was taking every part of me not to helplessly melt into his touch and reduce me into nothing.

“…oh no, I’m just fulfilling your desires.”

He moved his hands toward my straps and forcibly pulled my dress down.

“Every single dirty one.”

I turned around, and he wrapped my hair around his hand, pushing me down until my body was on the ground, the bristly carpet floor rubbing against my knees.

He unzipped his trousers, and immediately pulled down his boxers, revealing his erection.

“here’s your first one. Now come here and suck it.”

As pathetic as I was, I needed to follow his command.

I inched closer and put my hands around his cock, lightly caressing the tip with my fingers, before putting my mouth into it.

“suck it harder.”

“y-yes,” I murmured, using my tongue to suck it as hard as I can, his approving groans encouraging me to go deeper.

“Fuck, that’s the spot…” he muttered to himself, moving his pelvis along to the motion of my mouth, becoming evident that he was coming close.

“…hey, I can come in your mouth, right?” he said, putting his hand on the back of my head, ready to push the moment I uttered a ‘yes.’

And I did. I wanted it in my mouth.

“yes-“

And he pushed my head until my mouth covered most of his shaft, the mix of my saliva and his cum making its way into my throat.

He then pulls my head back, observes the mess he made on my face, and manically grins.

“…you know what you look like?”

“No,” I said, still dazed.

“a fucking whore.”

He started tearing off each piece of his suit, throwing it all by the side and leaving him completely naked, the most prominent features in the pictures that I saw of him being shown to me all at once.

He is the pictures.

“…and do you know what I’m going to do to you now?” as he crouched down to my level.

“no...”

“I’m going to fuck you as hard as I possibly can.”

He suddenly grabbed my inner thighs, pulling me up until I was face-to-face with him, his face inches away from my lips.

I want him to devour me.

Then, he throws me on the bed and climbs on top of me, his hot body against mine.

I couldn’t look at him, as his eyes pierced through my skin, and my vulnerabilities were bare in front of him.

His fingers trailed along my stomach until he reached below, and using his hand, tore away my underwear and inserted two fingers into me.

he wasted no time picking up the pace, as his fingers continuously thrust against my C-spot, whispering obscenities whilst doing so.

“How is your dirty pussy so wet for me?”

And more.

“You just keep sucking me in and in...”

And fuck me more.

“Fuck, I want to make you come so bad.”

Then, I immediately came, the natural high of an orgasm overwhelming me until my body finally became still, that high wearing off.

But I still wanted to continue that high. I wanted it soooo badly.

“... and we aren’t even at the best part,” he said, momentarily getting up to grab a condom from his jacket and ripping it apart with his teeth.

He then went back on top, and he leaned into me, rubbing his cock in between my folds, and pulling it out again, and it drove me fucking crazy.

“Just put it in me already.”

“You want me to?”

Fuck, I really, really hate cockteases.

“...Please.”

“Ah, but I don’t want to.”

But even though he kept shamelessly denying me what I wanted, I found myself wanting to beg him, pacify him, and make myself completely his bitch.

“fuck, toji please!”

“…god I love how pathetic you are.”

“I am, I’m so pathetic,” I repeated, inching myself towards him.

“Damn right you are,” he sneered, as he tortuously pushed in and out, whilst keeping his eyes closed in on me, a mind game that I wanted to desperately win.

“I just need your cock, I need it inside me.”

“you want it that badly huh?”

“I want it, I want it, I want it,” I begged.

“then fucking take it."

Using the full force of his body to completely overwhelm mine into submission, a sensation I couldn’t hide, nor could I escape from.

“You love my cock that much huh?”

And I had to rejoice.

“fuck-fuck-I-do- “as he mercilessly slammed his cock into me over and over, and I became what he wanted me to be; a song that he could play for as long as he wanted.

And he played,

“I love it- I love it - “

And he played,

“Right there- fuck right there - “

And he played,

“Oh god- Oh god- “

And I eventually started to break.

But he wanted to end it in the best possible way.

“-Want me to make you cum?”

And my prayers became true.

But I couldn’t properly communicate my appreciation for those answered prayers, as my voice became hoarse and quivered each time,  as he thrusted like he was doing it once more.

So, I nodded, but he still wasn’t satisfied.

“Hah- come on I asked you a fucking question,” grabbing my chin with his hand, tilting it sideways until his lips were against my ear, and he commanded me.

“Hm? are you going to cum for me?”

And another one slipped out of his mouth like it was nothing.

“…are you going to cum for daddy?”

And I had to answer him, despite how close my head came to exploding.

“fuck-yes-i-want-yo-“

And I became numb.

the grip that I had on my voice completely letting go and the painful trembling in between my legs, becoming never-ending.

And he sighed, putting his mouth against mine, savouring the tears that poured down my face as he shoved his tongue.

He eventually pulled away and licked his lips in satisfaction.

Like he’d finally made me into his own.

_____________________________________________________________

#toji smut #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #fushiguro toji #jjk smut #jjk x reader #smut #jjk fushiguro #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic

[penguinbuttcheeks]

going to a rave with the 141 boys

A/N: can u tell im excited for my upcoming rave bender? the next few weekends are gonna be intense and i’m here for it

cw: alcohol, casual drug use

ghost

- let’s be real, he would never actually agree to go to a rave with you. the closest you’ll ever get to taking him out to something similar is a bar, and it’s going to be the usual dingy one near base. he rarely even goes to that one unless it’s for celebrations or he wants to brood solo with some liquid luck by his side

- in the highly unlikely instance you do manage to bring him, he surprisingly fits in - visually at least

- his balaclava and simple compression shirt that he’s worn seems to be the vibe of everyone else, just very toned down. maybe he’s a casual raver, not too keen on dressing up like everyone else is what passer-by’s think

- not that anyone’s really paying attention, they’re all either tripping balls, high off their faces on MD or too busy feeling the music to care

- ghost is definitely feeling out of his element

- so many shirtless, sweaty men doing ‘ridiculous’ dances and women in skimpy outfits that flash all sorts of bright colours

- you’ve definitely dressed up for the occasion.

- ghost is absolutely floored when he sees what you’re wearing for the first time

- “what the fuck are you wearing”

- definitely acts more like a body guard than a rave buddy. everyone is so intoxicated. he’s on high alert the whole time, keeping a keen eye on you while you lose yourself to the sensations of the music rumbling deep in your bones and the feeling of bodies brushing up against you by the stage where the dj continues to do their thing

- you’re probably not even close to the stage, you’re further back where there’s less people and simon actually has the space to be able to breathe

- it doesn’t matter though, you’re still having a blast and dancing away to your hearts content

- ghost definitely can’t help watching the way you move your body, trying his best not to seem creepy, but you seem so in your element - it’s almost like watching you in the shooting range. you’re so lost in focus

- it’s hot as hell

- even if he thinks the way you’re dancing looks absolutely ridiculous, you’re confident and he finds it deeply attractive

- “don’t ever bring me to one of those again”

soap

- probably the most on board out of everyone to join

- you guys absolutely sat in your room together while you did your makeup and dolled yourself up

- “oi lad/lass, can ye put some o’ that on me?”

- soap gives you the biggest shit eating grin when you pull out a small baggie of pills to get the both of you through the night. you better pray there’s no upcoming standard military drug tests

- you are definitely going to be the one babysitting the entire time

- you almost lose him several times and the only reason you were able to find him again was because you heard loud scottish yelling

- arriving for the first time, soap can’t help but let out a low whistle. “fuckin’ ‘ell”

- tries to mimic the way you and the people around him are dancing but can’t for the life of him figure out how tf you’re all moving your bodies so quickly and fluently to the rapid beat of the music

- almost falls on his face trying the first time

- you’ve got him dressed up in the sluttiest, most ridiculous outfit that you think you’ll ever see him in. it’s definitely caught the attention of a few people around you

- god he’s so cocky when he realises he’s popular amongst the crowd with all the men and the ladies

- it may be boosting his ego but don’t worry. he’s only got his sights set on you

- speaking of sights set, soap can’t stop staring at you. you’re wearing the most revealing outfit ever seen and he swears then and there that he’s going to marry you

- he knew that he wanted to make you his, but tonight definitely sets that in stone

- the following weeks, you’re getting amused grins and eye rolls from your teammates (ghost is absolutely the one rolling his eyes)

- soap had secretly snagged a video of you dancing to your hearts content and made a point to make sure everyone bears witness to it

- when you find out, soap is sulking in the rec room with a bag of frozen peas pressed against his head, sulking like a kicked puppy

- oh well, at least he managed to hide one video of you after forcing him to delete them all

gaz

- it’s not his scene, but god he’s curious

- agrees to tag along with you, and boy is he glad he did

- his eyes are all over you the entire night. he just can’t help it when you’ve prettied yourself up so good

- “you look stunning, love”

- he’s content to just watch you truly be yourself, mingling and swapping bracelets with strangers and drunkenly stumbling around the place with a joyous laugh leaving your lips

- definitely would need occasional moments away from the crowds to allow him the space to gather his thoughts

- soap is probably there with the both of you tbh. it was originally a trio outing, but soap has run off to do his own thing

- don’t worry, gaz is here to watch over you and make sure you’re safe

- he takes it upon himself be be the sober one

- besides, he wants to remember the way you sway your hips to the beat and drag your fingers through your hair

- can’t help the slight pang of jealousy when he sees you dancing with another man, his eyes raking over your body and his hands reaching out to touch you

- “move along buddy”

- gaz is quick to pull you next to him, a steely glare directed at the man as he pulls you in to his side, your wide, surprised eyes looking up at gaz

- gaz isn’t usually one to be overprotective or jealous, but god is it hot when you bear witness to it for the first time

- absolutely chews soap out on the way home for stranding them amongst the hundreds of people at the rave

- you’re sleeping soundly - a small, drunken yet content smile on your face as your head rests on gaz’s shoulder in the cab home

- gaz can’t help but smile at you softly, hand reaching up to brush your hair out of your eyes as you rest

- he definitely stood out like a sore thumb at the rave, but it definitely won’t be the last one he’s attending. how could it be? you were such a delight to watch

- tonight will definitely be replaying in his mind for the following weeks to come

price

- you would lose your job so quickly if you ever brought price along to a rave

- occupation aside, unless you have the luck to win the lottery - price is probably also not joining you

- the poor bastard is not big on crowds, especially amongst so many young adults that are so intoxicated on more than just alcohol

- he’s not the oldest there, far from it, but his time serving in the military has made him feel detached from popular trends and the normalcy of civilian lifestyles

- you probably end up leaving early. the loud music gives him a headache, and god - do people actually listen to this?

- “don’t you dare take that shot”

- you definitely downed it after giving him an evil smirk

- the entire night is spent on the sidelines of the dance floor. there is no way that price is dealing with that many people pushing up against him while also dealing with the pounding in his head

- bitching and moaning aside, price is glad to see you letting lose and enjoying yourself instead of burying yourself in work and training

- you’re a hard worker, he knows you deserve this chance to cast aside the burdens of your occupation

- he’d never admit it, but he was glad to get off base (even if it was at an event he would never willingly go to on his own accord)

- he’s standing a few metres to the side, hands in his pockets and chuckling, shaking his head in amusement as you dance away in your own little world while he sips on a beer

- he’s discrete about it, but his eyes slowly travel over your body when your eyes are closed and you’re too lost to the beat of the rhythm - body coated in light layer of sweat, skin gleaming an assortment of colours as the lights bounce off your body

- he feels bad when he says he need to get the hell out of there, but his heart melts a little when you’re nothing but understanding

- he would never admit it, but it wasn’t the worst night of his life

- he got to see a new side of you that he never expected to see

- walks past the training room a few weeks later where you’re busy training. it’s late and everyone has retired for the night, but you’re gunning it on the treadmill, the same music the two of you listened to that night out playing from your bluetooth speaker

- he can’t help but think back to the way you moved your body so seamlessly to the harsh beat of each melody

- it’s ingrained permanently in his memories. it’s altered his brain completely

- he treasures it like an overprotective dragon does with its hoard of glittering gems and gold. what he saw that night was for him to see and him alone. the 141 boys have no idea what they’re missing out on

#cod headcanons #task force 141 #141 headcanons #call of duty headcanons #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #141 #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #captain price #john price #captain john price #john price headcanons #price x reader #price headcanons #captain price headcanons #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap cod #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap headcanons #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick #gaz x reader #gaz garrick #gaz headcanons

[slotumn]

Some notes on how I personally like to write the lords + Rhea+ Shezleth wrt sacrifices and deaths and moral dilemmas they face when they make decisions

Basically,

Edelgard: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to bring change and ensure more don’t die in the future under an unjust system

Rhea: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to maintain stability and ensure more don’t die in the future under chaos and turmoil

Dimitri: People have died because of me and my decisions, I know it’s unforgivable no matter what and I will atone for it by avenging them (feral mode)/saving as much as or more than I have killed (post-feral clarity)

Claude: People have died because of me and my decisions, but that was the best I could do in my situation, and as long as I/we stay alive thanks to that I/we still have a chance to turn things around for the better

Byleth: People dying is people dying and nobody knows if any of your decisions will be “justified” until it plays out. I’ll help you get the results that will hopefully “justify” your decisions because I love and support you, but honestly, all that shit you're saying is just cope

Shez: Cool cool, where’s my fucking money

As you can tell the main foils/contrasts I like are Rhea <–> Edelgard, Dimitri <–> Claude, and Shez+Byleth. More rambling about it under the cut

For Rhea and Edelgard, I like to focus on them being similar people at different points of life/the project they’ve dedicated their lives to. I’m sure people have already made the analysis about parallels between them, from losing their families/conquering the continent/etc etc but basically, they have very similar philosophies/attitudes/outlooks, and the difference is whether the current system and dominant ideology is what they like or not.

I think that a young Seiros, fleeing a genocide and recruiting allies in the south, would have had faced similar objections Edelgard did; Nemesis may not be the most benevolent ruler, yes, and we don’t literally believe everything his regime preaches, but at least things are manageable and stable if we play along, especially down here in the south. Do we really need to risk everything we have to go up and fight him? Your ideas hold appeal, but some of us don’t find it appealing enough to die for it.

And similarly, I think Edelgard, if she grew old enough to see her system really take root in society, would say a lot of the same things that Rhea would've liked to say, when younger generations complain; look, what we have isn’t perfect, but you really don’t want to see what it was like before, and the fact you can have these complaints at all are a testament to the system I’ve made working. And if you try to burn all this down out of youthful passion, it’s more likely that we will regress instead of progress.

For Dimitri and Claude, it’s about how they deal with guilt; on a personal level, specifically. Politically I think they’d take or dodge responsibility as is necessary lol

Dimitri is straightforward, almost too straightforward. Not great at coming up with excuses, or rather, excusing himself. His way of facing the guilt is very one on one; taking blood for blood, while he's feral. Saving life for life taken, post-feral clarity. And even then, deep down he feels like ("knows") it's will never be enough. And he takes on all that guilt head on even in places where it's not his fault, a.k.a. survivor's guilt.

Claude, meanwhile, dude is a mental gymnastic gold medalist (affectionate). It's not that he doesn't feel guilt, but I think he's very good at seemingly minimizing it, excusing it, and convincing himself that he's better off focusing on other things. As for survivor's guilt, I'm not saying Claude wouldn't ever feel it, but he'd focus on the fact he survived, rather than the guilt.

Finally, Byleth and Shez. Honestly I think they have pretty similar outlooks, it's just a matter of how they explain it lol. The role I like to give these two is reality checkers; because the lords and Rhea can have their debates about Ideology™ and The System™ and Morality™ and Responsibility™ of it all they'd like, but in the end, it's people like Shez and Byleth doing the dirty work and dying on the field for the decisions.

And when people die, the physical, material reality is that they're fucking dead. Attach causes and justifications and obligations and excuses to their corpses as you want, but at the end of the day, it is a corpse and the person is dead. That's the reality they've always lived in, and not just as a one-off incident, either; the thing they do for survival is fighting and killing. They have a "It Is What It Is" type of attitude as a baseline, because, well... it is. Doesn't mean they don't feel things about it. Doesn't mean they don't want to save people where they can. Nonetheless— they know all too well that what happens is what happens.

For this reason, I like to think that grand moralistic judgements are not their thing, no matter the route; they don't even think the lord they sided with is fundamentally more correct/better. Like, come on, when they were asked to choose a house upon arriving at Garreg Mach, they probably weren't weighing their options based on who'd be the most "objectively" "morally" correct if a war broke out between the three (+the Church).

That being said, I think they definitely have a sense of what's good. But it's not the philosophical/abstract type of good you might hear the other four get into debates about. Shez and Byleth's idea of good is, in many ways, very small and inconsequential— but grander concepts of morality can't exist without it. And I like to think that the reason why Shez and Byleth become so important to the side they picked isn't just because of their powers, but also because the constantly they remind others of those small good things.

"Good" to Shez and Byleth is having enough to eat; having warm clothes and bed to sleep in and a roof over their heads; spending time with the people they care about and seeing them safe. It's quite animalistic, in a way; interesting, considering that Agarthans belittle their enemies by calling them beasts.

But I don't think those two would be particularly affected by being called animals for that reason. "These beasts are happy— what about you?"

#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem warriors three hopes #few3h #rhea #rhea fire emblem #rhea fe3h #edelgard von hresvelg #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von riegan #byleth #byleth eisner #shez #fe3h meta #slotalks #meta #shezleth #when i bring up shez and byleth as a set just assume it's me pushing shezleth ok