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dragonmuse · 6 months

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Keep It In The Box : An Essay on OFMD Season 2 and the Failure to Heal

(here in is my season two reaction. It contains many many spoilers. It's also about 3k words long so you know what you're getting into.)

“See, I have a system for dealing with all the terrible things I've seen. There's a box in my mind, and I put the things in the box..” -Frenchie, Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death

…..and then he never opens it. Chekov’s locked box has no key in season two.

On first watch, it seemed clear to me that Frenchie’s declaration was a narrative plant. Clearly the whole season would be about that box of pain and trauma being opened, sorted through and at least the beginning of healing. The show had developed a reputation after season one of being kind and focused on queer narratives of healing from childhood. Ed and Stede’s parallels in their childhood traumas were frequently on display through season one and were repeated in flashback throughout season two. Jim’s season one arc about becoming someone who doesn’t think just of revenge and can now forge meaningful connections was profound, beautiful and often funny. Izzy is an antagonist because he doesn’t want Ed to move on or stop acting like the trauma-response version of himself. The antagonist wants to stop healing. The point is to grow, to change, to learn how to love. It’s one of the things that made season one work for me at the time, despite reservations about pacing and tone.

So naturally season two should follow suit. It’s a kind show! About healing and falling in love!

For the first several episodes, the remaining crew on the Revenge go through a gauntlet of trauma, forced to do and receive violence at Ed’s whims as he careens from self-destructive behavior to self-destructive behavior. This is the wounding setup. It was dark, but it seemed like it would have a payoff and at first it did.

Perhaps one of the most beautiful moments of the season comes in one of the small respites in those early episodes as Jim recounts Pinnochio to Fang to soothe him through his grief. That was the show that I expected. The kindness of that moment struck me very deeply. It gave me some understanding of Archie too, who seems to fall for Jim right at that moment.

That scene is the show season one promised. Season two led with packing Frenchie’s box full to bursting. Here is the fight to the death between lovers, there is a first mate who is mutilated and rotting in the very walls (the rot of the Revenge itself), and there is the storm of Ed’s rage and pain that threatens to consume all of them.

So surely these remaining episodes would concentrate on finding the humor in healing from those moments. That is the setup. Frenchie has a box. The box must eventually open.

Except time and again, all the characters who suffered are told that the only way to deal with what they’ve been through is to stick it in the box and never open it again.

Pete tells Lucius that he’s unable to move on and needs to let it go. Izzy has a story about a shark. Ed’s apology to the crew which doesn’t even contain the words ‘I’m sorry’ is just…accepted. I kept waiting and waiting for a meaningful apology to the people Ed had hurt the worst with his actions, but it seems all we get is Fang saying ‘eh, no problem, I got to hit you back so I feel better’.

The playful theme of ‘pirates are just violent sometimes’ from season one becomes a grinding horror machine in season two when every atrocity visited on someone is forgiven because the narrative needs it to be. Ed and Stede spend more time making amends with each other over the bloodless night on the beach than either of them spend trying to repent for their actions towards anyone else.

And let’s talk about Ed. Arguably this season pivots on his narrative, on his path to healing and growth. A path that starts at a very low point. His moment in the gravy basket, deciding he wants to live because there are still things to live for is so great! So one might assume that what would follow would be him pursuing those things, making amends, making connections. He and Stede have a wonderful moment, talking about being whim prone and how they’ll work to avoid that, build a relationship by going slower.

Yet, at no point do either of them stop following whims. They never heal or learn from what’s happened to them. They both keep running from thing to thing, particularly Ed. It’s a whim to sleep with Stede, it’s a whim to run off to fish, and the finale gives us just more of their whims. Ed drops fishing as fast as he picked it up. He finds those leathers in the ocean, murdering the symbolism of leaving them behind. Even the inn is a whim, one of those things Ed decided he’d be good at without evidence. And Stede joins him in that without a single on screen conversation about it ahead of the moment.

Ed needs to heal himself and to do that he needs to confront what he’s done and do the work to heal the wound. Instead, he doesn’t meaningfully apologize to anyone, besides Stede and Fang. Despite Izzy’s dying words (we’ll get to that), not only do we never see the crew caring about Ed, working to make him family in the same way they do with Fang and even Izzy, he also doesn’t choose to stay with them. So what is the point? Where is the healing? Or does even Ed, beloved main character, have to live with it all stuffed in a box?

He ends the season in the leathers he threw away, in a relationship that’s barely stabilized, going to live in a house which we are told by the narrative (in that they are very very clearly paralleling Anne and Mary with Ed and Stede or why do we even get that whole Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? episode) will only end in them setting fire to each other to stay warm.

But Vee, I hear you cry, it’s a ROM-COM. This is all meant to be ha-ha funny and you are taking it so seriously!

Cool beans. Then why the hell isn’t it funny? Healing is often filled with comedy because people deal with pain with humor. You can heal and laugh at the same time. The finale especially is almost entirely devoid of laughs, almost entirely devoid of joy until the last minute for that matter. The episode that should show off with a flourish how far everyone’s come, mostly serves to show that no one has grown.

Okay that’s Ed. I want to talk about Lucius next. Our former audience surrogate (that’s taken away in season two when he doesn’t get enough screen time to perform that role and no one takes his place) really goes through the wringer. He experiences many many terrible things, including sexual assault (which is made into a grimace-laugh line that doesn’t take away from it’s seriousness because oh hey, that can be done as it turns out). He’s nervous, he’s smoking, it’s clear he’s suffering.

There’s a beautiful moment where Pete tells him ‘hey, I was also in pain. I grieved’ and that’s great. It’s good that Pete sets a boundary about Lucius not obsessing over the past to the point of occluding their future.

We even get our comedic moment where Lucius pushes Ed off the boat (still not apology, but I’d lost hope for that by then) and that doesn’t help enough. So Izzy comes in with a shark and the advice that you just have to move on.

Just…you know. Play pretend. Forget.

Shove it in a box. Ed didn’t take my leg, a shark did. Ed didn’t kill you, a shark did. Live with the person that tried to murder you because it’s your fault you dangled your leg over the side of a boat. That is the show’s message. I thought on first watch, that surely this would also come back up and be explained that you can’t live that way, that that is no way to heal. That it would become clear that this was no way through. You cannot make everything into sharks.

Lucius can move forward and still carry pain. He can still want a meaningful apology and still want to talk to his lover about what he’s dealing with while moving forward toward a brighter future.

And what of the flirtatious promise of relationships and connections being the way to heal? Look to Oluwande and Jim, whose heartfelt romance from season one was relegated to the bins of history in favor of a narrative that made him a brother Jim once had sex with. They could have had Archie AND Oluwande, who in turn could also have Zheng, but that never seems to be an option. With a single short conversation, they are broken up with, despite a brief tease at the birthday that they still ‘dance’ together, it never actually manifests. Jim and Archie never talk about what they went through. It’s swept under the rug as fast as knives are lowered.

Lucius also no longer flirts with other people, the solution to his pain is to propose and get married (but not too married, lest we forget that they’re two men, they don’t even get to be husbands or even the more respectful mates, no. They’re mateys.) This season proposes that the only happy endings are monogamous ones, where no one talks about anything painful that went before.

To ensure that message, beyond assuring the success of Oluwande and Zheng’s relationship, Jim and Archie almost entirely disappear from the narrative. Sorry you guys were given layers of trauma and no growth and not even much to do this season, we need to make sure that everyone remembers Oluwande is the break in Zheng’s day so when he says that to her five minutes later we know exactly what he’s referencing. No time for Archie to learn what an apology is or for Jim to get one line in with Oluwande that isn’t affirming their newfound broship. Must do more flashbacks to things we just did two episodes ago!

The show even dangles the conversation of the Revenge being a safe space. Why would any of them ever feel safe when the man who tortured them is allowed to walk among them and they are expected to forgive and forget? What’s safe about that? The ship is never made safe for any of them, but that’s never addressed.

And Zheng! Amazing, hysterically funny Zheng! She loses her ships, her entire way of life, the kingdom she built for herself and then…she doesn’t even get to captain the Revenge. We don’t know what becomes of her fleet, of her plans, her ambitions. Don’t worry about it, she has a romantic partner and isn’t that what every lady wants in the end?

(But Vee, I hear you cry again, there will be a season three! Maybe it will be All About Zheng! To which I say: then why did they present us with the most series finale feeling episode ever? If there’s more, I have no idea where it’s going. BUT VEE: BUTTONS AS SEAGULL ON THE GR- Fine. It’s time.)

Let’s talk about Izzy Hands.

Izzy manages more healing than anyone else this season. He reaches his lowest point, suicidal in the bowels of a ship that’s become a prison (very much in contrast to Ed’s suicidal low). The person he loves most in the world has shredded him physically and emotionally (and if you’re in the camp that thinks Izzy deserves the abuse that Ed gave to him, I would really like you to sit quietly with yourself and ask why you think there is ever anything anyone can do to deserve that treatment). He’s low, he shoots Ed to protect everyone, and then seems to plan to drink himself to death, mourning his losses.

And then another beautiful moment! The crew move past their own pain to help him. They work together for the first time and it’s to give Izzy mobility back. He treasures it. He cries over it. He uses that kindness extended to him to reach a new understanding of Stede and help him succeed, doing the work to make real amends. He sings in drag, he’s vulnerable and beautiful, celebrating the side of himself that he must’ve loathed in the first season. He’s an elder queer man, coming into himself.

He never gets an apology though. (‘Sorry about your leg’ without eye contact is not an apology. There is no responsibility taking, no acknowledgement of the weeks of torture that came with it.) Izzy also never really has an honest conversation with anyone about what it means that the man he loves punished him so severely for the crime of trying to protect the crew (yes, lest we forget, Izzy lost his leg because he was trying to keep Ed from re-traumatizing the crew and himself).

Izzy does all this work, but even he’s not allowed to take it out of the box. It’s a shark, not Ed. Ed is just ‘complicated’ (the language of abuse here is so upsetting and I think not even intentional).

And then he dies. His last act? To apologize to the man who tortured him and shot at him. To have done all this work, to take on all the blame. And then die.

In a rom com.

This show ends in a profoundly unfunny moment of telling the audience: this is the one character that did the work, that made amends, that tried his hardest to accept the parts of himself that he had a hard time embracing and formerly embittered him. He’s fully accepted his queerness and turned it into beautiful music. He’s disabled, and he worked hard to accept that. The man he loves will never love him back, so he worked hard to make Stede able to meet Ed on an even playing field. The Giving Tree gave up its limbs and its trunk, and it’s not even allowed to be a stump to sit on.

Kill the queer elder, who has managed to figure out how to live and in his own way how to heal. Kill him before he manages to teach anyone else how to meaningfully move forward (he almost gets it with Lucius, almost, but it’s meant to be rule of three, you know. Cigarette..shark…and then…and then fuck it, Lucius doesn’t even get to say a word at his funeral).

The message of this season again and again is that there is no healing, just moving forward. Like a shark. Like a bird that never lands.

That is not a kind show.

Season two is not a kind season.

It splinters people up and jams them back together without purpose or reason. It tells everyone who experiences pain that they should shove it in a box and not deal with it. No one who really needs one gets an apology of any sincerity. No one puts in the work to gain forgiveness. (Ed wearing a onesie is not The Work. Ed fixing a door is not The Work. Ed broke people that the show wants us to care about. Ed never does the work of making those amends. He fires off a Notes app apology at best. After all, it’s what he told himself via Hornigold in the gravy basket: you move on or you blow your brains out! Good thing he took his own advice and therefore had to change nothing to get his just rewards.

I would’ve taken just fifteen minutes of Ed trying to actually make amends. It could’ve been hilarious! Imagine awkward Ed trying to dance around what he’s doing with Jim and the two of them having a knife throwing competition about it. Or him and Frenchie attempting to make music together, writing a song about the raids they went on! It’s not just the crew robbed of their healing because of this, it’s Ed himself. He never meaningfully changes or makes amends. How is he any different at the end of the finale then he is standing on the edge of that cliff with Hornigold? He hasn’t moved on, he hasn’t healed. He tried one thing (fishing) that doesn’t fucking work and then he runs right back.

No one leaves this season better than they went into it. They’ve lost an elder queer, they’ve lost their joyous and queer polyamory, they’ve lost a chance for meaningful reconciliation with Ed and Ed lost any chance of looking like he gave shit if they did. Stede grows enough to accept the crew’s beliefs as important and then leaves them behind without a care.

Izzy gets a beautiful speech about piracy being larger than yourself. Ed and Stede, within twenty minutes of that speech, leave piracy. They are incapable of giving themselves to something bigger, apparently. They haven’t learned to be a part of a community. They haven’t healed from their childhood trauma or their fresher wounds. They are still just following their own whims.

Zheng’s life work is in tatters, but it’s fine, she has love. Oluwande and Jim aren’t together, but it's fine because they both have dedicated monogamous partners. Lucius was deeply scarred by what happened, never recovers much of his first season personality, but hey he got-well it’s not married exactly- but you know good enough!

Frenchie, who has a box forever locked in his head, is captain. Because the key to success is to lock it all in a box and never open it. What a message. What a show. Conceal, don’t feel. Smile because it’s a happy ending. Don’t mourn the dead, don’t try to tell people what happened to you (they will literally run away or cry too hard to listen and really you’re just bumming them out), and any meaningful change you make is only rewarded with death.

Frenchie is now a pirate captain with a box in his head full of trauma that’s never been opened, leading a crew with more wounds than scars. Wonder how that could turn out? Wonder how many years before he might want to retire and then happen to run across a gentleman pirate. As if no one learned anything at all.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #the strangest message sent #and no idea if it was on purpose #I kind of think it wasn't somehow #but boy howedy did it come across

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satorusugurugurl · 12 days

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Pleasant Surprise

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU). FAB!Reader

Warnings: smut, panties, ice cream sinful ice cream, public play, language, thigh smut? Car sex, stairwell sex, feral men 🥵

Word Count: 3,345

Summary: there's something really hot about handing a man your panties!

Gojo Satoru:

“Mmm,” Satoru moaned, crystalline eyes on you. “Mmmhm.” he moaned, white cream counting his tongue as you flattened it, slowly trailing it up. You swallowed hard, one hand gripping the table while the other dropped your spoon. “M-Mhmm~ mmm so good baby.”

“Satoru!” He smirked, pulling his tongue away from his ice cream cone. “Stop that!”

Your boyfriend placed his hand over his heart, his face contorting with faux confusion. “Stop what, sweetie? I'm just enjoying the cream you bought me~!” That sinful pink tongue lolled out, slowly licking a strip up the frozen treat, his eyes peering over dark sunglasses.

Enjoying it was one thing; eating it out like it was your pussy was another! The entire day, he'd been making lewd innuendos of eating you out, fingering you, fucking the life out of you. It was fun at first, but now it was becoming unbearable. Your panties were soaking wet, and the longer the teasing progressed, the more bold Satoru got.

Going from whispers and promises of pleasure to swirling his tongue over the tip of his cone like it was your clit. If he kept this act up, you'd both get arrested for indecent exposure!

“Toru, stop,” you growled, stabbing your spoon into your frozen treat. “Keep it up; see what happens.”

Your threats did nothing to faze him as he flicked his tongue the exact way you begged him to when he was between your legs. Your poor soaking pussy throbbed in disappointment. That was the final straw!

You slammed both hands on the table, drawing the attention of other patrons as you stood up. “Excuse me.” You growled through gritted teeth, I need to use the restroom.” Satoru beamed up at you, eyes glittering in excitement and arousal.

“Want me to wait two minutes before I follow you?”

“No.”

The single word had Satoru’s face twisting in a split second. “No?” He repeated as if you said a foreign word. “No?” His eyes followed you, watching as you headed into the restroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

If Satoru wanted to fuck with you, you'd fuck with him back. You shimmied yourself out of your sky-blue lace panties, your eyes glancing at the huge wet spot on the crotch. Two could play at this teasing game.

You took a few minutes to mentally prepare yourself for what you were about to do. Your knee-high skirt was the only thing shielding you from prying eyes, and in a moment, Satoru would know that, too. With a deep breath, you balled your panties up before heading back out to the lobby of the ice cream parlor. Your twat-tease of a boyfriend was sucking on his ice cream, nearly deep-throating it as he looked back at you.

“Mm!” He pulled off the ice cream, and a streak of vanilla cream was dripping down the corner of his mouth. “Feel better?” His tone was thick with knowing arousal.

“Mhmm.” You eyes the vanilla smudge. “Here, wipe your mouth.” Satoru eagerly opened his hand, waiting for a napkin, only for you to discreetly put your panties into his hand.

Satoru’s ivory skin turned red. His hand ducked under the table so fast. His sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, eyes wide as they darted between the flimsy wet fabric and your smug face. Your actions fended him speechless, his grip on his waffle cone slipping, and the sweet treat hit the table with a wet splat.

“T-These are—”

“Uh-huh.”

“So you're not—?”

“Nope.”

“Let's go home.” He announced, standing up and shifting his jacket to hide the growing bulge in his pants. “All this fun is exhausting.”

You snickered as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you out of the parlor. “And what makes you think I wanna play with you when we get home? You've been so mean to me all day; maybe I should be mean back.” His hand twitched dark shades, focusing on you. “I only reward good boyfriends who know their manners.” You tapped your finger against the corner of your mouth. “And you still haven't cleaned your face.” When he brought his thumb to his mouth, you held a finger up. “Nuh-uh—not with your thumb.”

“Oh,” a sudden understanding crossed his face, “of course.” he slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out your panties. “How rude of me.”

Satoru slowly used the wet crotch of your panties to wipe at the corner of his mouth—the tip of his pink tongue running slowly over the fabric. You could see the way his muscles tensed as the taste of you hit his tongue. It took every fiber of his being not to stick all of it in his mouth. The sweet, tangy flavor of you had him shivering, hips bucking forward as you stopped to watch him suck ice cream off your wet panties.

“Well? How is it?” you smirked, crossing your arms over your chest as he heaved a heavy sigh.

“So fucking good. I wanna taste this sweet treat from the source.”

That's how you ended up on the bed. You are sitting on Satoru’s face, your hands gripping the headboard for dear life as he fucked you with his tongue. It swirled over your walls while his nose brushed over your clit. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, listening to your whimpers and whines as his hands groped your hips, rocking you against his mouth.

“O-Oh god~T-Toru going to ~! Going to—gonna cum~!!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, jotting your hips faster over his face. He groaned, lapping and sucking at your walls as he shook his face against you with a snarling groan. “Ah~! Ahhhgh! Fuck!”

Satoru moaned loudly, feeling your pussy convulse around his tongue while your poor abused clit throbbed under his nose. You rocked and shook with tremors of organic pleasure. Your breathy whines flood the room as your movements slow, your body realizing against the headboard as you take deep breaths.

Satoru pressed gentle kisses over your swollen folds as you pulled away, sliding down to lay on his chest. His face glistened with the traces of your orgasm. Beautiful blue eyes narrowed as you pressed kisses down his pectoral muscles, tongue trailing over his muscles as your hands tugged at his belt.

“Fuccck~ you taste so much sweeter than that ice cream.” Satoru groaned out as he fisted the panties you had given him in public. “Im going to fuck you so good.” he groaned, whipping his face off with your underwear before sliding them into his nightstand.

Geto Suguru:

Suguru gripped your hand, bounding down the steps, rushing for the night's last train. You were both giddy, high off each other, and there was a rush of alcohol and adrenaline as you barely made it onto the train. The two of you are the sole passengers.

“We made it in the niche of time.” Suguru Sighed as he collapsed onto one of the seats. His cheeks flushed as he took deep breaths.

“We sure did!” You rested your head on his shoulder, fingers still interlocked with his. “We would have been sleeping on the sidewalk if we missed this.”

“Nonsense.” Your boyfriend scoffed, dark strands of hair falling over his forehead. “I would have booked up a room at a love hotel. My princess will never sleep on a sidewalk.”

“How chivalrous!”

“I only provide the best for my girl.”

His girl. You licked your lips, slowly turning to face him. “Your girl has a present for you!” With his attention on you, you glanced around the train car. Making sure the two of you were, in fact, the only ones there.

“A present?” he turned to face you, dark eyes searching you. “Is it another rock?”

“No! Something better.” The pure excitement on your face made his heart skip a beat. “Close your eyes and hold out your hand.” You waited until you were sure he was peeking before you took your panties off, plopping them in his hand.

The second Suguru opened his eyes and looked down at the lilac frilly panties, his eyes slowly went wide. They were transfixed on the little bow on the front, and fuck, they were still warm. Turning them over, he growled deep in the back of his throat as he saw the sticky wet spot your arousal left.

“Do you like it?” Excitement boiled deep in your stomach as Suguru lifted them towards his nose, smelling them. Something about seeing him like some dog in a rut had you pressing your thighs together, rubbing them to find some friction to relieve the growing ache.

“I fucking love them.” was all he said before coming to stand up. “But I love something even more.”

Instead of telling you what he loved like an average person, he showed you. His cock slid between your thighs and damp folds. Your chest was pressed against the glass door, breasts nearly exposed in the low-cut dress you were wearing.

“It’s too bad it’s not rush hour traffic. I would fuck you right here against the glass. Then everyone could watch you take my cock like the good girl you are.” Those dirty words that spilled from

Your boyfriend's mouth has you slamming your hands against the glass. “Oooh, you like that idea, Princess~?”

“S-Sugu~!”

“Awe~ so honest,” the tip rubbed over your clit, “just as honest as your body~ you like the risk~? We could be caught.”

“Y-Yeah~”

His thrusts picked up as he grunted against your shoulder. “Yeah~ yeah, you like it, you dirty little slut.” His breath fanned over your neck. “And you're going to be a good girl and cum with me, right?” your fast nod was his undoing. “Cumming princess~ oh fuck I'm cummin~!”

Sticky white cum painted your clit and thighs as Sugurh used you like a fleshlight. His messy thrusts, the stimulation on your clit had you creaming along with him. You would have fallen to your knees if it wasn't for hands on your waist.

“Ooh, good fuckin’ god.” He pulled back, admiring the way your body shook. “Fuck~!” A sharp sting hit your ass before you felt the smooth fabric of your panties cleaning up your thighs.

And thank god your boyfriend was quick to clean up the mess because as the train pulled up to the next stop, three college students got on. Not that it mattered if they even knew what was going on. One second, you were blissful, and the next, you were being yanked off the train, your boyfriend tapping on his phone.

“Sugu, where are we going?”

“Love Hotel,” he said blatantly, “I have a present I want to give you in return.” As you both ran up the stairs, you stared at his back with a giggle as he scoffed. “My dick,” he shrugged as he turned a corner in the main street. “My dick is the gift.”

Nanami Kento:

Maybe it was the dim lighting of the fancy restaurant, or perhaps it was all the cocktails, but fuck your husband looked so fucking hot tonight. Tight fitted suit, hair brushed back, emphasizing the sharp jawline. You, indeed, were a lucky woman.

Nanami was talking to the waiter, listening to the different desserts they had to offer at their establishment. He was so captivating. He gently held his chin between his thumb and forefinger while the waiter spoke. His lips pursed together and thought as he debated on which dessert the two of you should share. No matter what mundane thing he was doing, Kento always looked amazing.

You needed him oh so very badly.

Nanami, of course, noticed the way your body shifted and trembled and how your eyes were undressing him with every passing moment. It was adorable seeing the way you moved; your eyes shifted from him to the waiter, patiently waiting for him to leave.

Nanami chuckled, sipping his wine as your face glowered when the waiter left, leaving you to your accords. “Are you feeling alright, love?” Hearing his voice had you shivering, panties soaked as you shifted in the booth again. “You look a little flushed.” He placed the glass down, grinning as you bit that cute bottom lip.

“I’m fine.” You lie like the liar you are. And Nanami can see it, too. You are the furthest from fine.

“Mhm, whatever you say.” Nanami gently rubbed the side of his foot against yours.

The affectionate, playful touch sets your skin on fire. You reach your hand up, covering your mouth as you let out a soft whine. You wanted your husband so bad, and he knew it. A soft grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he ran his foot a little higher, soaking in how you clasped your hand harder against your mouth.

“Sensitive tonight?” Your eyes shut tight as he moved his foot up and down over your ankle. “How adorable; I bet your panties are just soaked now.”

Swallowing hard, you slowly move your hand away from your mouth, slipping both under the table. Nanami gives you a coy smile, his foot pulling away from yours as you shift slightly. His eyes never once leave you as you glance around before sliding your dress up just enough to hook your fingers under the waistband of your underwear as you lift your ass off the seat. You move slowly, purposefully, slowly sliding your panties down past your hips and down your thighs before tugging them over your knees.

Nanami cocks a blond brow at you, seeing the subtle way you move your hips. He wasn't sure what you were up to, but when your foot rested on his knee, he glanced down. Dangling ever so scandalously around your ankle were the dark maroon panties he’d watched you pull on back at the apartment.

He choked on wine, sputtering into his napkin as you flicked your foot, leaving your panties on his lap. “Oooh~ what’s the matter, Kento?” His eyes watered as he coughed hard. “Are you sensitive tonight, too? Perhaps we should wrap this up? Get home?” Your foot slowly ran down his leg before resting your ankle against his.

Nanami stood up, sliding your panties into his pocket before pulling out his wallet. “Excuse me! Can you please cancel our dessert? And I would like to pay for our bill!”

You and Nanami didn’t even make it home; hell, you barely made it to the car. The driver's seat was leaned back as far as it would go while he laid down, watching you bounce up and down on his fat cock. Your tight cunt squeezed his cock, hugging the mushroom-tip hard as you pulled off of him before slamming back down. Your arousal streaked the velvety skin of his cock, strings of arousal connecting your two bodies as you rode him hard.

“Ah~! Nggh holy fuck Ken~! Hoooly shit, y-your c-cock is throbbing!”

“C-Can’t help it~ I have the world's most beautiful woman bouncing up and down on my cock. Using me as she feels fit~.” Fingers dug into your hips, rocking you back and forth on his length as you bounced.

“N-Naggh~! Hah-hah!” Lips slammed against him in a heated kiss as you rocked harder, pushing his throbbing tip against your g-spot, the stimulation sending you over the edge. “C-Cumming!” Up. “Cumming!” Down. “K-Ken! Kento~!!” Up. “Cumming!” Down.

Watching you arch your back, your cum soaking the tails of his shirt, was all Nanami needed to send him over the edge. He thrust up, fucking your through your orgasm into another as he came just as hard as you. A white ring of cum formed around the base of his cock, as you twitched and trembled, breathing through the waves of pleasure.

“Mmmm, let’s get home.” Nanami fisted your panties, bringing them up to his lips. “I’m far from being done with you.”

Ryomen Sukuna:

Sukuna was in a terrible mood. He'd been dealing with Yuuji and Choso. The duo gave him a massive headache; between homework and chores, they fought him on everything and anything. Then, on top of everything else, he was stuck waiting for you to come out of the restroom. After a long day of dealing with his bratty brothers, the last thing he wanted to do was wait around for you to powder your nose or do whatever the fuck you were doing in there.

He slumped back in his chair while angrily tapping on his to-go coffee, watching the door like he could manifest you to appear. Going out for coffee was your idea, claiming you wanted to cheer him up. Yeah, hot coffee and a date-less date. It was fuckin’ great.

“Sorry!” The cheerful tone in your voice had him looking up from his cup. Your wide smile and flushed cheeks had him relaxing as he stood up.

“About damn time.” His arm draped over your shoulder, pulling you tight against his side. “The fuck took so long?”

“Ooh, nothing,” you gently grabbed his hand, sliding soft silky fabric into his palm, “just making things a bit easier for you.”

Slowly blinking, you smirked as you watched Sukuna’s face contort in confusion as he peed at his hand. The white fabric with pink flowers was recognizable in an instant—your panties, which were his favorite pair. The same pair you had slipped on this morning were now in his hand.

The lack of reaction and deafening silence would have anyone second-guessing their actions. You, however, knew your boyfriend. His hand tightened around the flimsy fabric, eyes twitching as crimson eyes snapped at you.

“Easy access~” You purred, hands gripping the edge of your skirt, lifting it a centimeter up.

“Easy access?” he hummed, tilting his head as you both entered your apartment building's lobby.”

“Yes, sir.”

You were heading towards the elevator, but Sukuna grabbed your hand, dragging you to the stairs instead. “Good.”

Skin slapping and soft moans echoed Off the concrete walls of the stairwell. Making the moment even more erotic, knowing that anyone could catch you, it was a thrilling and arousing experience. It was the same thrill that had you moaning louder, resulting in deeper, rougher thrusts from Sukuna.

“Oh my god, you're such a slut.” He groaned in your ear as he fucked you as hard as his body would allow. Taking the anger and frustration out on your poor pussy. “You're so cute~ moaning like a bitch in heat.”

“K-Kuna~ Ku-mmmmhpm!” you gasped out as your boyfriend shoved your panties in your mouth. The taste of you flooded your mouth as Sukuna pushed down on the small of your back, forcing you to arch.

“Shut the fuck up.” Hips slammed against your ass as Sukuna nipped at your earlobe. “This isn't about you; this was for me~ you said it yourself easy access for me.” he reached around rubbing your clit. “Fuckin, cum, milk me dry.”

You whined, eyes crossing as Sukuna fucked into your cervix, making your legs shake as you came. You screamed around the panties in your mouth as your boyfriend grunted, slamming harder into you, fucking through the pulsating twitches of your cunt, into his orgasm. Ropes of cum filled you, as Sukuna didn't stop, pushing it further into you.

He didn't pull out until he was sure none of his cum would spill out of you. He laughed, licking his lips as he fixed your skirt before putting you over his shoulder. A weak muffled sound from you, but Sukuna paid it no mind, slapping your ass as he kicked open the door to your hall.

“Round two!” He roared out as you bounded down to your apartment. “And yes, the panties are staying in that pretty mouth until I decide it's tiny for you to lick my cock clean.”

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spectralreplica · 1 year

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Uhhhhhhhh Sburb AU!! This was more of an excuse to classpect and make sprites, so don’t ask me questions about plot details because I put like zero thought into it. Tsumugi probably had something to do with setting up the session, and she’s hiding her real title and the fact it’s not her first session. Baby Kiibo is a robot baby because I thought that was the funniest option.

Drawing with anti-aliasing off really brings me back...

Classpect thoughts under the cut if you really want:

Immediate caveat: I mention speculative stuff here like unconfirmed active/passive class pairs and inversion theory. If you don’t like those things or otherwise disagree with the titles I gave people that’s fine but just know I’m not super interested in debating about it and won’t reply.

So, to start out with I wanted to make the 8 of them a session, so I needed no overlaps in class or aspect and one Time + one Space. I also wanted to have Kaito and Kokichi as opposing aspects. In general, I think of a Title as kind of the end of your assigned character arc, so depending on your level of maturity/introspection at the start, it can seem either really obvious or really unintuitive. I tried to base them off of the hypothetical chapter 6/survivor versions of characters, since those (plus maybe the chapter 5 deaths) of the ones that get a full arc in DR canon.

Immediately Tsumugi seemed like a deadringer for Space, not so much because of the literal physics-related stuff but because of its associations with creation/narratives and setting things up for other people to act. I made her Sylph of Space here, but that's a facade. She's actually a Muse of Space who participated in past session(s) and wants to watch how things play out.

Based on the Extended Zodiac description, Kaito or Kaede has to be time, but Kokichi CANNOT be Space by any stretch of the imagination. I made her Heir of Time with the interpretation of Heir as someone who invites change/influences of/through their aspect. Time is also associated with music and death, which is both fitting and a little mean. (I can also see Kaede as Breath outside of having to have someone be Time.)

So moving onto Kaito and Kokichi, I was considering Hope vs Rage (belief vs doubt, possibility vs restrictions), but 1) Rage is defined partially by hatred of lies despite otherwise sounding Kokichi-ish (that alone could be interesting, with the possibility of a negative/reverse title or else giving him Hope and Kaito Rage for the unexpected swerve........) 2) I really wanted to give Hope to Kiibo. So instead I went with Heart and Mind (emotion vs logic, intuition vs planning, identity/motivation vs action/decisiveness).

Kokichi is Thief of Mind for taking away other people's decisions for his own purposes but also for generally "stealing" things (e.g., the Mastermind Role, narrative importance in general, along with literal items) through his own cleverness. Vs Kaito, a Knight of Heart, who uses his constructed identity as a weapon to face challenges. I'm also a fan of inversion theory, so I think at low points they'd both trend towards Page of Heart (grows powerful late in the narrative based on his own ego/identity) and Rogue of Mind (taking choices/agency/logic away from people for their own good), respectively.

I always wanted Kiibo to be Hope since 1) Ult. Hope Robot 2) big on possibilities/faith but can be a little self-centered. I went with Bard at least partially to make a "guess we know whether he has a dick or not now!" joke, but I also think "inviting destruction through Hope, inviting destruction of (false) hope" is pretty spot on for chapter 6 Kiibo. Like, as the camera/audience surrogate, he's been forced into passively leading the others to despair, not to mention how the audience takes him over to destroy the hope of ending the show. But Kiibo ends up reversing this and helping destroy the audience's faith in Danganronpa, destroying the whole academy in accordance with the vote. (Sidenote: I wonder if Kiibo gets taken over by Horrorterrors and goes grimdark? Or if he's just really, really susceptible to orders from his Exile)

Shuichi, Page of Void, was another one that immediately came to mind. Like, "starts off weak but becomes really strong/important by the end" is Shuichi's thing! Also, counterpart to Kaito's Knight. And Void is all about secrets, mystery, etc. From the Extended Zodiac: "Where others might be compelled to go out and seek answers, the Void-bound lean more toward casting doubt on what is already considered understood. They don't take much on faith and would rather live in a state of confusion- than believe something that might be untrue or bow to intellectual authority... At their best, Void-bound are wise, intuitive, and vibrant. At their worst, they can be dismissive, indecisive and apathetic."

I had considering Light, for seeking out knowledge/truth, but Shuichi's character arc ends on "fuck you, I refuse to play. You all get nothing more from us" and learning to live with ambiguity, so I think he's way more Void. But, again, inversion would be Thief of Light, so selfishly taking away knowledge/importance from others.

Speaking of Light, I made Miu Mage of Light. Mage is like, active Seer, seeking out knowledge for yourself (vs advising others) and Light is luck, knowledge, and also importance/plot relevance. As an inventor, Miu keeps innovating and figuring things out, plus she's very motivated by her own importance to the world. She wants to be seen more than anything else and loves being smarter than those around her. Also: "At their best, the Light-bound are resourceful and driven. At their worst they can be fussy, pedantic, and insensitive." Inversion is Heir of Void, so "inviting change via hiding things" or "changing what's kept secret", which suits Miu when plotting murder.

Finally, Maki is Prince of Blood. Blood is trust, bonds, relationships, stubbornness, duty, obligation (vs freedom, change, choices) so "someone who breaks bonds/destroys relationships" but also "someone who destroys using/motivated by duty/relationships". Like, Maki is inherently a fracture point in the group because of her talent and then directly breaks the group apart and sabotages her relationships with the others in chapter 5, but also she's deeply motivated by her bonds to others in all of her destructive actions (protectiveness for orphanage/friend, love for Kaito). This sound super negative, but I think this is also the Maki who commits to destroying the institution of Danganronpa in chapter 6. Sometimes you have to be decisive and cut bad relationships out of your life.

Inversion would be Sylph of Breath, so "healing via change" or "encouraging growth towards freedom", which you can argue is sort of the way Kaito wants her to go? But she just doesn't. Idk, for better or worse, I think Maki is very aware of who she is and how people related to her, so even at her worst she's true to herself, vs, say, Kaito or Kokichi, who act "ooc".

#Homestuck #Kokichi Oma #Kaito Momota #Miu Iruma #Shuichi Saihara #Kaede Akamatsu #Maki Harukawa #Kiibo #Tsumugi Shirogane #New Danganronpa V3 #Danganronpa #Sburb AU #Spectra Art

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bones4thecats · 2 months

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What Are They Like As Parents? - Hazbin Hotel

Type of Writing: Random Idea Characters: Vox, Valentino, Velvette, and Alastor Name: What Are They Like As Parents? Idea-Gifter: Random Thoughts

A/N: This is basically an AU where they married their S/O in real life and had a child with them back then. But, due to issues with birth, their S/O died with the child. So there will be trigger warnings when it comes to that. Also, the type of demon the reader is is listed below! Have a nice rest of your days/nights, my lil bubbles🫧

P.S: The Reader goes through birth, so they're headcanoned as female, but a gender is not fully noted

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Death, Swearing, Miscarriage, and mentions of Assault ⚠️

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Technological-Demon! Reader ; Medical Technology

📺 Vox and you were very close when alive. Growing up together and eventually falling in love and marrying

📺 Sooner rather than later, you were expecting a baby boy, in which you two decided to name him (M/N). Unfortunately, due to difficulties during birth, Vox had lost not only his unborn child, but he lost his spouse

📺 Ever since that day, the man had driven himself further into his work, trying to push the memories of you both with your bump past him, he didn't want to remember how you smiled so gently at him as you died, or how the doctors tried saving you as blood erupted around your form

📺 It was because of how he held himself to such a low-degree that Vox had passed away, and due to his actions in life, he was banished to hell

📺 He believed he deserved it, but now he could start anew, and that was where he grew back into power and eventually met a fairly new Overlord, one that had your same name

📺 Once he asked you and learned that you and your son were transferred to hell, he grew upset, why on Earth were you, the sweetest being he had ever known sent to hell? And why was his son, who never did anything in life, get sent here?!

📺 Every other Overlord, besides Alastor, was on-edge when your small son crawled out from your hand, being nothing but small shocks before turning into a mixture of Vox and your's demon forms

📺 He just smiled lightly and kneeled in front of his child, patting him on the head and declaring how he'd protect you guys till the end of time, in no way was he going to allow you guys to slip from his grasp again

📺 Now, as your son was made into the form of a young child (4-6), Vox always tried to keep his anger on the down-low. He didn't want his son to only see his father angry and full of rage

📺 While he may seem like a horrible father at first, once he got used to the fact that your child was interested in your occupations, you being a medic of the Overlords and him being the head of VoxTek, he smirked at Valentino and Velvette before holding his child and gloating about his company

📺 Speaking of the other two Vees, they adore your child. Valentino loves to help your son with his social skills, and he tries keeping his business on the down-low around him, he doesn't need to get shocked or nearly have his wings amputated by Vox and you again

📺 Velvette on the other hand, she loves to test her outfits on your child, from helping him find the most suitable outfits to having him listen to something on her phone as she speaks to her two main allies during a meeting, she is honestly a decent aunt

📺 Vox also has a wild obsession with watching Alastor fail, so if he were to ever see the Radio Demon talking to you or his son, he'd lose his shit, not caring who was there to watch

" I swear to fuck, you old-timey shit-stain, if you ever try touching my S/O or my son again, I'll fucking kill you and drag your corpse all around hell for the all people to see. "

Insect-Demon! Reader ; Rosy Maple Moth

❣️ Valentino and you married quite early in life and had a very active life

❣️ It was due to your shared actions that you found of you were pregnant quite early, which made him try calming down from his actions and begin to coddle you

❣️ Unfortunately for him, your body couldn't quite handle the stress of birth, resulting in your demise, along with your daughter. And due to this event, he was driven mad

❣️ This was where he developed his abusive personality, constantly yelling and assaulting his workers, including Angel Dust when he first arrived and signed a contract

❣️ It took a while, but one he had heard about a new Overlord that looked a lot like Valentino (in terms of species) with a daughter that looked nearly identical, he decided to attend the next meeting without his fellow Vees

❣️ It only took a quick glance for him to know exactly who you were, in life you loved to mess around with roses, so it only made sense that you'd become a demon in relation to that plant

❣️ Once the meeting ended, Valentino walked up behind you and hugged you, wrapping his larger wings around your form as he felt your tiny orange-yellow antenna tickle his chin

❣️ Valentino also loves his baby girl a lot, spoiling the young girl with everything she could ever want

❣️ Once you and her walked back into his life, everyone within his studio learned who you were quickly, you were the long-time spouse of Valentino's, and the father to his young daughter

❣️ They also took notice of how more collected he was, and while he did have his moments of anger, he rarely ever laid a hand on his employees, unless he got angry enough

❣️ Valentino also swore on his afterlife that he would never touch anyone in the ways that he would touch you or your daughter, which allowed your new friend, Angel Dust, to be more free with his time

❣️ Much like Vox, he doesn't seem like he'd be a good parent. And they're kinda right, but only with certain situations

❣️ Valentino doesn't know what to do when it comes to certain scenarios, like when your daughter asked where children came from and you had to wrap your pink and yellow wings around his mouth to silence him from giving a very detailed story of how she came into existence

❣️ Vox and Velvette are also fairly involved with helping him raise his child, Velvette loves to help her dress, from giving her small clips to put in her hair to giving her full-fledged outfits, she spoils her just as much as Valentino does

❣️ Vox also spoils her, but he also knows when to be strict, he mostly just watches her whenever Valentino and you get busy with running the studio in V Tower. He's been declared the 'Godfather'/'Uncle' of your baby

Bird-Like-Demon! Reader ; Peacock

📳 Velvette and you agreed that you'd raise your child together, despite knowing that it wasn't her own, rather, it was your ex-husband's

📳 He had abandoned you with your unborn baby a few months prior to you and Velvette married, and it was on your honeymoon that you went into labor

📳 Sadly, you had lost the baby, and eventually lost your life due to internal injuries just a few months later, prompting your wife to go a hint overboard with her actions

📳 When she died, she never expected to see you sitting across from her at an Overlord meeting, your long tail feathers falling onto your lap where a small boy sat, playing with them

📳 She looked up in shock as you told her of your son, how you both were banished here, your son due to the fact that he had the potential to due just a horrid things as you, and that angered her

📳 Velvette loves to mess around with your feathers that laid behind your head, the ones that only flare up when upset or feeling any kind of strong emotion

📳 She also adores to have you carry her, since she was fairly short when it comes to sinners, and you were very tall when it came to the species

📳 Now, when it comes to your son, she loves to dress him up, acting as if he was a small mannequin that she needed to make look as gorgeous as possible, and thankfully he looks a lot like you, meaning if something looked good on you, it would no doubt look good on him as well

📳 If your ex-husband ever came by to take his son back, she would straight-up ruin his life, literally. She'd post everything around to make him lose his title, and if that didn't work, she'd just kill him, she doesn't care which he chooses

" I swear to you, (R/N). If you ever, ever, try to come here and demand to have the son that you abandoned in the first place, I will do two things. I'll ruin your fucking afterlife by stripping your title away, and I'll make sure during the next Extermination, you get a very long and fucking long death, try me, bitch-boy. "

📳 Velvette also is a fairly good step-mother to your son, she loves to give him small trinkets she finds around. One time she came home with a small present from the store, and when your son looked at the tiny necklace that opened to show holographic photos of you three together, you couldn't help but fall for her even more

📳 Much like with the other Vees, she does involve Valentino and Vox with her step-child's life

📳 On average, she has Valentino just help watch him, leaving Vox being the head of watching him, she doesn't need to have you on her ass about how Valentino took her son to the studio to observe his work

📳 Vox is the official 'Grandfather' of your son, while Valentino is more like the 'Funcle' of the two

Mythical-Creature-Demon! Reader ; Wendigo

🔘 Alastor and you shared a lot in common during life, from your cannibalistic and murderous crimes, you both bonded over the fact that you were able to keep it all away from people's eyes, despite your high-ranks in society

🔘 He was the head of his own radio broadcast, while you were the head of a small orphanage that took in any child that was needing a home without any problems

🔘 Ever since Mimzy introduced the two of you and you learned of your situations, you decided to 'help' one another out, and by that, I mean by covering for one another

🔘 This teamwork led to you guys falling in love, in a twisted way that is. He loved you for how you would just casually keep a smile on, and you loved him because of his owl personality

🔘 While many didn't expect him to ever fall in love, due to him being a canonical aromantic, they did find it funny to watch him just smile and treat you like a member of royalty

🔘 He never really did find a need for intimate actions, but one drunken night and a lot of pregnancy tests later, you found of you were carrying his child, alerting him to keep you away from your previous crimes. He didn't need you or the child getting harmed

🔘 Alastor may not have shown it, but he was very heartbroken when the doctor released the news that you had lost your baby, and eventually your own life

🔘 Knowing due to your crimes that you'd end up in hell, Alastor would sit at your grave and speak of how he'd see you sometime soon

🔘 And he was right. He had found you once again during his first Overlord meeting, what he did not expect was seeing your young son sitting on your lap while gnawing on a small hunk of deer meat

🔘 He knew that this was your shared child, and he welcomed the youngling with open arms and a fully-fledged smile, his sharp teeth matching his son's

🔘 Speaking of your son, he loves to spend time with his father, learning how to play the piano and singing old songs with him as you stood off to the side with Husk and Niffty, watching the boys have fun

🔘 Alastor only allows you and your son to really touch him without many warnings, and while it took a lot to get used to, he loves watching him randomly grab his staff and try singing in the microphone

🔘 Much like his father, your son can use tentacles and use his powers to make his voice radio-sounding, and it is the funniest thing to watch members of the Hotel go nuts hearing so much of the noise

🔘 Due to being the son of the Radio Demon and the Wendigo Overlord, many don't even dare trying to touch your son, well, except for Vox and Lucifer

🔘 Vox one time had decided to try holding your son without permission, resulting in him being sent flying across the meeting room by your husband

🔘 And when Lucifer first arrived and began to tickle your son to make him laugh, he stood off to the side with his ears pushed backwards in irritation, watching his son smile by such a fatherly action not being made by him was annoying

🔘 And, because of your declaration, you named the members of the Hotel as your son's 'Godfathers'/'Godmothers', only having Husk and Niffty as the 'Siblings' of your son

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ellieluvr420 · 2 months

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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Ways you can help Palestine

Trusted organisations you can donate to

TLOU (TLOU2 especially) is rooted in Zionism and Neil Druckmann is a Zionist. Please don't buy the games or watch the show unless pirating. Separate the characters from the content and its creators!

Please make sure that as well as spreading information and awareness online you are also doing it in real life! Never stop the conversation with the people around you because often its the people you know in real life (especially of older generations) that need the education. If you can go to protests, please do but be careful and take the necessary measures to protect yourself and others around you.

daily click

This account and the fics I write are an escape and a release for me but my account stands with palestine as it always will so any discourse (by discourse, I mean debate not communication as information-sharing is of course welcome) around the topic will not be tolerated because there shouldn't be any discourse, you either support genocide or you don't and anyone that does support the Israeli genocide of Palestinians or any for that matter is not welcome on my account. This is a safe space for my beautiful followers and any decent person is welcome but let's keep things kind please bby's.

𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

We Meet Again, Darling

SYNOPSIS: Abby Anderson is a skilled detective that's never let a criminal escape her grasp, until you. You've infiltrated every part of her life and she still can't get you. As she grows more and more intrigued by you she finds herself descending further into darkness until there's no way back. She takes your hand and follows you as if your presence is the only thing giving her life knowing that you are the most dangerous thing for her. Her life will never be hers again and she will stop at nothing to keep following you down your path of corruption.

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Part 18

Part 19

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Epilogue

Friends? Never

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

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Part 23

Eye for an Eye

SYNOPSIS: Your body yearned for the touch of your girlfriend, the warm embrace that calmed your mind but you couldn't give in, the anger you harboured for her at disappearing with her group for three months without any warning, explanation or even a mention of when she would be back stopped you in your tracks any time you got close to giving in. You loved Abby so much but looking at her made you sick, you couldn't push the feelings down no matter how much you craved for things to go back to what they once were. You hadn't planned this but the anguish in those green eyes mirrored yours and sucked you in before you could think twice about the repercussions of your actions. You made your bed when you made the deal with the auburn-haired stranger, eventually you'd have to lie in it.

Teaser

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𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

Abby

Change They had her, the love of your life, they had her and they were going to die for it.

Guardian Angel A guardian angel getting wrapped up with the human she was supposed to be protecting, a double-edged sword bound to hurt. The memory of you, your calming presence in a time where everything was hanging in the balance haunted her. All she craved was to see you again. She was addicted, obsessed. She needed you in every way but you only appeared in her mind, you were never part of reality. You were her saviour, the blood running through her veins, all she wanted was you, that was all she would ever want.

Ellie

You're mine It was silent, neither of you moved or spoke, your eyes were fixed on each other, neither of you daring to look away. Your eyes were glassy and bloodshot and hers were cold and dark, your nose was sore and running as you sniffled holding the tears in your eyes that were begging to be let free. You didn't understand how a girl that shows you as much love as she does could hurt you so bad.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Abby

Wife Abby

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cynosfunnyjokes · 7 months

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kinktober day 4

characters: lyney, reader

ship: lyney x reader

theme: mirror sex

notes: hehe, haha. i’m so funny with the ending. i’m actually losing motivation already and it’s only day four‼️🤪 loving this. but the show must go on. MINORS DNI. 18+ CONTENT.

word count: 865

“see? look at that.” lyney’s voice cut through the many lewd noises filling the room. sitting in front of the mirror, you were on his lap, his hard cock thrusting almost lazily into your pretty cunt, “so pretty..” he whispered, one of his hands reaching down to play with your clit, thumb rubbing over the sensitive bud.

“lyney-“ you gasped out, hand grasping his wrist. any words fell flat before you could even say them, mind nothing but melted putty from your boyfriend’s actions and the stimulation.

“mon chéri..” he whispered, thrusting up into you as his thumb and forefinger continued to play with your puffy clit, “you look so pretty like this…”

one of his hands was hooked under your chin, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. he kept his eyes trained on yours in the reflection.

“please-“ you gasped out, trying to turn your head to look at him but failing due to his hold.

“please what?” he asked, feigning innocence, purple eyes lit up as he grinned.

“f-faster-“ voice all but begging, you gave him the most pleading look you could conjure. when the magician had said he wanted to try something new, this wasn’t what you expected.

but you weren’t complaining.

“hmm..” he hummed, feigning thought. while the fact that you were growing impatient was as prominent as his hard-on, he couldn’t deny his own impatience creeping up on him.

before anything could be said, he had you pressed down onto all fours, a hand settling on your back to set it into an arch. lyney’s thrusts became harder. faster. deeper.

a yelp mixed with a moan slipped past your lips and he smirked, one hand grasping at your hip as the other stayed pressed to your back.

upon noticing that you weren’t looking in the mirror, he stopped his thrusts and smirked at the whine that left you, “ah, ah,” he tutted, “i’m gonna need you to watch the mirror- i want you to see your pretty expressions as i split you open with my cock~” his voice had a teasing lilt to it, but you knew he was serious.

finally looking back at the mirror, you made eye contact with the magician only to be immediately rewarded with his hips snapping back and forth, starting up the same brutal pace as before.

“lyney!” you gasped, mouth falling open from the pleasure as his hand moved from your hip to your clit again, rubbing tantalizing circles against it.

“you’re doing so well..” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck before looking at you in the mirror again, “so pretty..”

the sight of lyney pounding into you from behind was a sight to see as you whimpered and moaned, obediently keeping eye contact with him through the mirror. the lewd squelches and the sound of skin slapping filled the room, accompanied by moans and grunts of his own.

a frothy, white ring formed at the base of his cock and he momentarily looked down to where you were connected, a small moan leaving him at the sight, “t'es trop belle…” he whispered, looking back at you.

a deeper blush erupted on your cheeks as you moaned, the feeling of his cock brushing just right against your tight walls making you see stars.

the harder he went, the closer you got to your release- and judging by how sloppy his movements were becoming, you assumed he was in the same boat.

“lyney!” you gasped with a moan, pussy fluttering around his pistoning cock. each thrust was deep, brushing against the most sensitive spots in you that drew out the pretty noises he knew and loved.

a few more thrusts from him had you climaxing hard, a loud moan of his name leaving your lips as your pussy walls clenched around him.

“so… tight-“ lyney grunted, thrusting a few more times before cumming himself- emptying his load deep inside you.

a mixture of your juices and his seed dripped to the floor, but it was ignored. it would be a problem for later.

lyney’s hands loosened their hold on you as he ran them along your back soothingly, “are you okay, ma chéri?” his voice was soft, a contrast to the moments before.

“i’m fine.” the confirmation eased the subtle panic in the blond’s mind.

“je t’aime~” lyney hummed, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“i love you too, dork.” you laughed, looking up at him through the mirror. “never thought you’d use your mirror for something other than magic.”

“oh!” his eyes suddenly lit up, a mischievous smirk lighting up the magician’s features.

mouth falling slack in what was a mixture of shock and straight-up being dumbfounded, you stared at him curiously, “what?”

“for my final trick, i’m going to turn my cum into something else!” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, “however, this trick’ll take nine months-“

a groan.

“lyney?” you asked, voice still slightly shaky from your high. eyes flickering up to meet his in the mirror, you smiled.

“yes?” lyney’s eyebrow raised, his hands rubbing soft circles into your hips as he smirked.

“i’m going to punch you.”

743 notes · View notes

python333 · 3 months

Text

soft spot — python333

— — — —

synopsis you've been having a bad day, and ghost feels like being extra nice to you. plot twist you're an age regressor and him being so nice is NOT helping.

relationships platonic agere cg!ghost & gn little!reader.

characters ghost.

word count 6.7k.

warnings a victorious reference, age regressor reader, usage of c/n [call sign/code name], 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself]

note please feel free to attack me as much as you want if this is inaccurate. i don't even care if it's not constructive criticism. i am begging for everyone's thoughts and opinions on this!! this is also the longest oneshot i think i've ever written!

“Having fun there?”

You turn in your seat and find Ghost leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and one eye slightly wider than the other—an indication that his eyebrow is raised.

“Not really,” You answer, setting down your gun. You’d been disassembling it, trying to take your mind off of the slowly growing headache that’s been building up for the past few hours. You don’t think it’s a migraine or anything, but it still bothers you greatly.

“Yeah, no, I can tell,” Ghost chuckles, pushing himself off of the door frame and walking over to you. He eyes your gun for a moment, the magazine already removed as well as any live rounds left in the rifle ejected, and the bolt locked to the rear. You were only maybe a quarter of the way through your disassembly, even though you started around thirty minutes ago.

For some reason, you woke up upset today. You were too tired, you felt awfully sluggish, and there was a throbbing pain clustered in the back of your eyebrows. So, in short—you were reasonably very upset. It showed visibly in the way your eyes twitched every so often, and in the way you felt the need to pinch the bridge of your nose to distract you from the pain that was still building up behind your brows.

“What’s going on?” He asks, leaning on the table.

“I have this headache that won’t go away,” You respond, sighing as you move your gaze from your gun to Ghost. You can barely see it, but from his eyes you can tell that his face scrunches up beneath his mask. He knows a thing or two about bad headaches, being someone who frequently gets migraines himself.

“Have you taken any meds for it?” You shake your head ‘no’. Ghost holds up a single finger in a ‘one moment’ motion and rummages through the pockets on his tactical vest for a moment, before he pulls out a small bottle of ibuprofen no bigger than his palm. He hands it to you.

“Here.” You blink at it for a moment.

“Thanks,” You take the bottle gingerly and Ghost nods, watching you as you struggle with the child-proof lid for a second before getting it open. You shake out a small tablet, one the size of a low-dosage aspirin, and pop it into your mouth. You don’t have much of an issue dry-swallowing it, and it only takes one attempt before you successfully swallow the tablet.

“You’ve been feeling pretty bad this whole week, haven’t you?” Ghost frowns underneath his mask.

You think for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, I guess. I think it’s mostly just stress.”

You know it’s not just stress.

For a while now, you’ve used something called ‘age regression’ as a form of stress relief. You don’t know exactly when it started, but you do know that it was before you were recruited for the 141. And originally, you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t regress while on base, and you kept that promise for maybe a month before you broke it.

You think it was Ghost that was the trigger, actually. You can vividly remember the first time you regressed while on base; you had just finished talking to Ghost, and he called you something—you think he called you something similar to ‘kid’—that made a flip in your mind switch immediately. You can remember excusing yourself from the conversation quickly, leaving your lieutenant slightly confused but otherwise unbothered by the strange action.

And, worst of all, you can remember being in your quarters and practically burrowing under your blankets. You were curled up into a fetal position, trying to fight the urge to suck on your thumb or at least chew on something, but ultimately lost the fight and succumbed to your urges. You spent maybe a few hours like that, wide awake when you just wanted to try and sleep it away, thinking about that interaction you had with Ghost over and over again.

You’re not stupid. You know that Ghost has some sort of soft spot for you—albeit, you don’t know exactly how soft that soft spot is, but it’s definitely soft. Soft enough that he goes the tiniest bit easier on you compared to other recruits, soft enough that he spares you more time than he does for others, and the most obvious of all—he initiates most of your conversations.

Contrary to popular belief, he’s not the scary super-soldier most people think of him as. Sure, maybe he is kind of scary, and maybe his mask does jumpscare you when you’re doing missions in particularly dark spaces sometimes, but other than that he’s not scary in the slightest. If anything, he’s awkward. Awkward enough that he’s almost never the first person to talk to someone—except for you, of course. You don’t know why he acts so differently around you, but you don’t complain about it.

“That’s rough,” Ghost looks down at you with concerned, empathetic eyes, “Sorry you’re so stressed. Mind me askin’ why?”

“I don’t, but I also don’t know why I’m so stressed,” You huff out, even though you know the answer completely. You stand up, “I think it’s just me being sleep deprived. I’ve been having the tiniest bit of trouble falling asleep lately.”

“You should’ve told me earlier,” Ghost tuts, “I have melatonin.”

You give him a confused look. “You do?”

“‘Course I do.”

You blink at him for a moment before sighing, “Could I have some then?”

“What’s the magic word?” You give him an unimpressed look, ignoring the way the words make your stomach twist, and his eyes crinkle in a way that lets you know that he’s grinning under his mask.

“Could I please have some melatonin?”

“The magic word was lotion, but I’ll let it slide,” Ghost hums, “There’s some in my office. I’ll grab it for you later.”

“M’kay,” You look over at the door, unintentionally zoning out as you do. Your vision goes unfocused as the throbbing pain behind your eyebrows grows and something else grows inside of you.

Jesus. Why can’t you choose any other time to get the urge to slip into a younger mentality? Why does your headache have to make everything worse for you? Why does Ghost have to be so nice and helpful?

“Hey,” Ghost frowns, tapping a finger on your shoulder to snap you out of whatever trance you’re in, “[c/n]?”

Oh God.

Your eyes—that you try desperately to keep neutral—meet Ghost’s, his eyes soft and his eyebrows dipped downwards in a confused manner. His eyes are searching, flitting over you, trying to find something. The way he looks at you makes you want to squirm, and you can’t help but just slightly shuffle in place.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks, voice as concerned as his look. That should be the breaking point for you, but you remain as big as you can be, and nod affirmatively.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You try to assure him, hoping you don’t sound as nervous as you feel, “I think I’m just a little tired.”

Ghost doesn’t look convinced.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, the act like a hammer putting another dent in the wall you had put up. The leather of his glove is warm even through the thick material of your shirt, and it feels like hot metal against your cold skin, the clothing covering your shoulder be damned.

“You can tell me if you’re not okay,” He tells you—what is he doing? Does he know something I don’t?—while his thumb starts rubbing circles into your shoulder, “I feel like you’re more than a little tired.”

You stay silent for a little bit. You don’t know how to explain yourself, the words seeming to liquify and leak right out of you, making you speechless. He seems to notice this, sighing and letting his hand slip down to your hand, holding it and giving it a quick squeeze.

“I think,” He looks around for a moment before turning back to you, “that we should head to my office so that nobody can bother us, and then you can tell me all about how you’re feeling right now. Does that sound okay?”

You nod wordlessly, not trusting yourself to talk with how heavy your tongue feels, and you let Ghost lead you back to his office. It’s only a hallway away, but that’s still enough time to overthink everything that could possibly happen. How does he know something’s wrong? What gave it away? Did I do something bad? What did I do? Wh—

The creak of his office door opening snaps you out of your thoughts, and Ghost steps aside to let you enter his office first. Hesitantly, you take a few steps inside, and you hear the door click shut behind you as Ghost walks in. He takes your hand again, making you look at him as he guides you to a chair.

You sit in the chair that’s in front of his desk, and he quickly drags out the chair that’s behind it so that it’s right next to yours. He sits down.

He’s looking at you expectantly.

“Uh.” You’re not sure what to say. He’s looking at you so reassuringly, it’s hard to keep yourself sitting upright.

“I know something’s wrong,” Ghost says, leaning forward the tiniest bit, “I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

He’s got to have at least some idea of what you’re experiencing, You think, trying to form some sort of explanation, He’s being so… weird?

You swear there’s some other word you could use, but your vocabulary feels so limited, and you would mentally curse if you could because you know that now your explanation is gonna sound weird. You can’t use the words you want, you’re gonna be forced to use simple words, ones that can’t convey exactly how you feel. Words that—and it physically pained you to admit this—were childish.

You can explain your situation. Just, now it would be more… blunt. And short. And also you’d feel like killing yourself afterwards. You won’t, obviously, but you can predict that you’ll come very close to doing so.

Okay, I have to say something because Ghost is looking more and more worried the longer I stay silent.

“I feel…” You trail off for a moment, trying to get your thoughts in order for the next two seconds to actually say something that makes sense, before continuing in a far less confident tone, “… small.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret it. Ew. Ew. Ew. What. Why? Why that word? It leaves a sour taste on your tongue and yet you can’t think of any other word that would better suit how you feel. Still. Ew.

Your thoughts are a jumbled mess ranging from fleeting thoughts of disgust to thoughts lodged in the back of your mind begging you to go anywhere else just so that you can stop having to have this conversation. This conversation requires words bigger than you have access to, and a sort of control over yourself that you can’t grasp. You can feel your hands twitching, wanting something to hold onto, anything to keep you distracted from the overwhelming urge to just regress.

Ghost blinks. He didn’t expect that answer.

“Small?” He repeats in a questioning tone, eyebrows furrowed, “I mean, compared to me, I guess you’re kind of short—”

“No, no, not like short small,” You try to clarify, feeling just slightly discouraged by Ghost’s confused words, “Like…”

You struggle to find the words that properly describe how you feel, only finding words like small and little in your current vocabulary. Your findings are making you increasingly upset, and you can feel your face start to grow hot with frustration and embarrassment.

Oh my God.

“Like…?” Ghost nudges your knee with his, trying to encourage you to talk, “I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

There’s still a level of care in his words, no matter how confused he seems, and that adds all the more struggle to your predicament. Not only do you not want to tell him, but you can’t describe how you feel in a way that’s acceptable for someone your age to describe anything. At least, not in a way that you deem acceptable for yourself to describe anything.

You’re far too old to be describing yourself as small.

“[c/n]?” Ghost nudges you again, and you blink at him. Your eyes are flickering all over his mask, going anywhere but his eyes, since eye contact with anyone would make everything significantly worse for you right now.

“It’s just—” You try to take a deep breath but your breath hitches. Everything is starting to make you feel so frustrated, and you’re starting to think that you might just throw a tantrum if you can’t do at least one thing right. You try to find the words you want to use but your throat is disobediently closing on you. Your mind feels like straight mush, and the quickly softening look that Ghost is giving you isn’t helping you at all.

To your horror, in your inexplicable inability to talk in the way you normally do, you let out a small whine. It sounds obnoxious to your ears, and worst of all, sounds like something a little kid would do.

You put your head in your hands, the quickly reddening skin of your cheeks getting cooled by the cold of your palms as you try and hide your face from Ghost. You can picture how he looks right now—somehow more confused than earlier, possibly annoyed, weirded out—and all those mental images make you bite your tongue to prevent another noise.

“What was that?” You don’t answer him.

To your non-answer, Ghost sighs, and you think, This is it, this is where he kicks me out of his office, oh my God I’m gonna get dishonorably discharged and he’s gonna give me a really mean look on my way out—

“Look at me.” You shake your head negatively.

“Why not?” He sounds so confused, it makes you want to cry. There’s still a level of worry in his voice, and it adds to the fog that builds up in your brain.

You move your face just slightly up so that your eyes peek out from above your fingertips, your hands covering the rest of your face. Ghost reaches out both of his hands, and ever so gently removes your hands from your face, uncovering your red cheeks and your lips—the lower of which quivers, like you’re about to cry. He notices this quickly, and you can practically feel the level of his worry shoot up.

He doesn’t say anything, instead just holding your hands in his for a moment, before he sets them down into your lap. He looks at you, concerned, and asks, “Is it hard to talk right now?”

You nod. His gaze shifts to his computer, and then back to you.

“I’m gonna go look a few things up really quick, okay? I’ll just be right over there,” He nods over to the space behind his computer, “and I’ll be right back here in a few seconds.”

You reluctantly nod again, and Ghost gets up from his seat. He grabs the back of the chair and drags it back around behind his desk, sitting down in it and powering on his monitor. It turns on almost immediately, much to his relief, and he goes to his browser and searches up a few things. You can’t tell what he’s searching up, only hearing the clacking of keys and the occasional final click that indicates that he’s hit the enter button.

He stays there for maybe a minute or two. It’s a long few minutes, and you can feel yourself slipping more and more the longer he stays at his computer. And the more you feel yourself slipping into that younger mindset, the more you start to crave Ghost’s attention.

The way his eyes are glued to his computer starts to irritate you. You’re aware that he’s doing something important, he must be, because why would he be so intent on looking something up otherwise, but still—you manage to feel the tiniest bit jealous of the computer. You know you’re too far gone when you can’t find it within yourself to realize that you’re jealous of a computer.

Your eyes linger on him and he must notice this because he looks up from the screen of his monitor and looks over at you. As if he can read your mind, he reassures you, “Just a few more seconds.”

But you said you were gonna be back in a few seconds a few minutes ago.

You don’t voice your thoughts. Instead, you nod, because God forbid you annoy Ghost with your need for attention now when he’s being so patient with you. He looks at you for another moment before going back to his computer and looking something else up, this time with a little more fervor.

Another few seconds pass and, true to his word this time, Ghost stops and gets up from his chair. He walks over to you, and your eyes follow him intently. He kneels down in front of you.

He looks hesitant to say something to you. That’s a first. That adds to the exponentially growing blob of fear that lives inside your mind, one of the only things that’s still prominent in the fog that conquers your brain.

“Are you…” You feel like you know what he’s gonna ask you. You’re bracing yourself for the question, and he looks like he’s bracing himself just to ask it.

“How, uh,” He’s trying to find the right wording, and you’ve never been able to relate to him harder than you do in this moment, “How… do you feel right now? How old?”

How old? You don’t really like that question. As much as you like that you’re now getting attention, you’re starting to remember how little you actually enjoy this type of attention. The question is pretty vague, but at the same time so specific, and you’re almost ashamed to know exactly what the answer is. Or, at least, you would feel ashamed if there was room in your mind to feel so.

“You said you feel small, right? Not like short small, just small?” He sounds more unsure of himself now, and you don’t think you like seeing him so reluctant to say something, “I looked up what it means to feel like that. Took some time, but I got to some person’s… website, and the person who wrote it was talkin’ about feeling like that. Something about regression, feeling a little bit younger than usual?”

He’s being so awkward about it, and while you typically find his awkwardness funny, now it’s anything but that.

“Uhm,” Your voice comes out as a mumble and you see Ghost perk up at it. You don’t know what to say. For a moment, you’re silent again, before you get over your embarrassment for a quick two seconds and force yourself to say, “Four.”

“Four?” Ghost asks, before quickly realizing, “Right. Four. You feel four?”

You nod, and your hands instinctively start moving back up to cover your face. Ghost swiftly grabs them, keeping his grip gentle as he keeps them from reaching your face.

“Hey, don’t try to hide again,” He says, tone softening as he holds your hands, “everything’s fine, okay? Do you— what, uh— do you need me to do anything? Do you want me to leave you alo—”

“No!” You quickly answer, a little surprised by your own volume, before you clear your throat and answer in a much more quiet voice, “Don’t leave me alone.”

“Okay, okay,” Ghost’s thumbs rub across the back of your hands, a soothing gesture that makes you the tiniest bit more relaxed, “what do you need?”

You sniffle, and you can see an immediate look of panic cross Ghost’s eyes. You don’t know how well he is with crying children, and don’t want to impose such a situation on him, but you also can’t stop the tears that begin to well up in the corners of your eyes.

“Hey, don’t cry,” He borderline begs, “everything’s gonna be okay, okay? Please do not cry. Take a deep breath.”

You try to take a deep breath, you really do, but your breath just hitches and gets caught in your throat. It only makes you more distressed, adding to the urge you have to just disappear. Ghost notices your failed deep breathing and lets go of one of your hands, before taking the other and holding it to his chest.

You can just barely feel his heartbeat, his thick tactical vest and gear in the way of it, but you can still feel it. Ghost takes a deep breath, holding it for a second or two before slowly exhaling.

“You copy me, okay?” He tells you, his words an order but his tone suggesting otherwise. He takes another deep breath, this time hoping you’ll follow his lead, and you do.

You try to breathe with him, your hand on his chest helping, but your breath keeps getting caught in your throat. Ghost notices this, but continues his breathing anyway, hoping you’ll catch on soon. You do, thankfully—after a few more attempted breaths, you finally manage one almost identical to Ghost’s. The next few after that go similarly, and that’s when Ghost decides you’re alright to take your hand off of his chest.

“I need you to tell me what to do,” He says, keeping your hand in his hold, “or at least tell me how all of this works. I want to help you.”

You really don’t want to tell him what you need right now, but you also don’t think you have a choice.

Wordlessly, you stand up from your seat, balance just slightly off-center before you quickly get your footing right. Ghost watches you, not moving, before you tug on his hand to try and urge him to get up as well. He obliges, getting up.

“What—” You interrupt him by taking another step forward and letting your head thump right into his chest, ignoring the itchy uncomfortable feeling of his vest against your face. You don’t bother to wrap your arms around him to at least try and form some sort of hug, preferring to just smush yourself into him and hope for the best.

After a moment of stunned silence, he wraps his arms around you.

“You mind if we move behind my desk so I can look up some more stuff on all of this?” He asks, voice quiet, “Unless you want to just tell me?”

“Desk,” You simply mumble into his vest, making him nod.

“Alright, but you’re gonna have to stop hugging me for a second,” Ghost warns you. You reluctantly step away, and Ghost smiles softly down at you, bringing his hands away from your back and instead holding one of yours.

He leads you behind his desk, and lets go of your hand before sitting down in his chair. Pausing, he quickly realizes you have nowhere to sit, and thinks for a moment before getting back up. He drags his chair just slightly to the side and looks back at you.

“Sit down,” He nods to the chair, “It’s only gonna be a minute or two, alright?”

You nod, hesitantly moving to sit in the chair, not really liking how far away from Ghost it is. It's not that far, You try to rationalize, I’m gonna be fine.

Ghost can see your hesitation and tries to work as quickly as he can, grateful that he didn’t turn his computer off earlier, typing away on his keyboard. You don’t care to see what he’s looking up, more focused on looking at the time on his monitor. 21:44. 21:45. The time ticks by and even though it’s only been a few seconds you already want Ghost’s attention again. His attention has actually turned into good attention, and that’s the type of attention you’ve been craving for the past week.

The clock reads 21:47 once Ghost is done, and he powers his monitor off this time, the small whirring the device makes dying down to a low hum before going completely silent. He turns to you, and somehow can sense that you need more attention.

“Am I not paying enough attention to you?” He teases you, making you conflicted on whether you should be annoyed by the teasing or happy you’re finally getting attention. As if he can read your mind, he chuckles, and kneels down to your level.

“I’m gonna give you as much attention as you need, alright?” He promises, “I just need you to stay in this room.”

—

Ghost watches you nod non-verbally, and it only adds to his softening expression.

He’s always had a soft spot for kids. He knows that you aren’t technically a kid, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still see you as one. You’re young for someone in the military, much less someone in this 141, and now that he’s found out that you’re an age regressor, that you’re a little—well, that doesn’t help how he sees you at all.

He thinks that maybe the reason he has such a soft spot for kids is a few encounters he’s had with them in the past. He’s seen far too many in compromising positions while on missions; positions like being held hostage, being held as prisoner, or just generally being mistreated or even just living in bad conditions.

He looks at you, and he just sees another one of those kids.

He sees how you act around him. He’s not stupid. When he talks to you, you’re actually engaged in the conversation, compared to when anyone else tries to talk to you—maybe excluding Price, or Soap, or Gaz, heavy on that maybe—you’re more likely than not brushing them off every chance you get. You’re standoffish with everyone else, but with him, you’ll always accept any conversation he initiates.

He can also see the way you look at him. It’s like you’re looking at your idol, or your savior, the way you look up at him. He can see that curious glint in your eyes when he tells you about a recent mission, or when he tells you anything, really. He can see when you try to mimic how he holds his weapons, and when you try to copy his techniques.

He remembers catching you one day in the shooting range trying to mimic how he aims at the targets—looking through your scope with one eye closed, the other focused only on the dot centered on the scope, taking a deep breath in and out before shooting, and keeping the gun exactly like that even seconds after the shot’s been fired.

In fact, the copying has gone from guns to melee weapons recently. Ghost swings only his forearm when he uses a knife, thumb resting on the very end of the knife’s handle, and entire arm stiff as he does. He does a slow windup when behind someone, a fast one on the off-chance that he’s in front, and buries the weapon to the hilt in whoever’s flesh he’s penetrated. He’s already seen you do the same on a recent mission. Not only that, but he caught you using a knife almost identical to his.

And now, you’re still looking at him like that—except, different. Sort of like how a kid might look up to their parents.

“What do you feel like doing, kiddo?” He asks, hoping the pet name isn’t too much.

From the way your eyes light up, he suspects it isn't.

“Mmm…” You hum, thinking for a moment, before requesting, “Coloring?”

“Coloring, huh?” Ghost looks around for some blank paper and some sort of marker or pen thick enough to act as one, but can only find some highlighters. He turns to you, frowning, “Sorry, but I don’t think I have any paper, kid. Anything else you wanna do?”

You shake your head, and Ghost is just about ready to jump off of a bridge before you point to his arm and repeat, “Coloring.”

He looks at his arm for a second, confused, before he remembers a conversation the two of you had a month or so ago.

“If you ever wanna get tattoos, I know a guy in Brighton,” Ghost said, reclining his chair back so that he can lay down in it. You were sitting across from him in front of his desk, fiddling with one of his pens.

“Good to know,” You hummed, “You have any tattoos?”

“Yeah,” You perked up at his admission, and he sat up for a second to roll up the sleeve of his shirt. He wasn’t wearing his usual gear, only one of those standard issue army-green shirts.

“Here,” He pointed to a large tattoo covering his whole arm like a sleeve, a few designs you could point out to yourself being a skull, a few Roman numerals, and some kind of scythe.

“Very emo,” You commented, making Ghost snort, “I like it.”

“I’m glad,” He rolled his sleeve back down.

There’s a lot of blank space in the tattoo, despite it being a sleeve, and he can already tell that you mean you want to color in that space. He thinks about it for a moment, a fleeting thought of is that even safe? crossing his mind before he ultimately decides that he doesn’t care and would rather kill himself than see you disappointed because he denied your request, his own health be damned.

“Alright,” He hums, grabbing a few highlighters from a mesh cup on his desk in the colors pink, yellow, and blue, “Go for it.”

You give him a small smile and if he cared about if he’d get ink poisoning two seconds ago, he sure as hell doesn’t care now. You gingerly grab the highlighters from his hand, your grabbing not too secure and sort of clumsy but secure enough that the markers stay in your hand.

You hold them with both hands, and it makes Ghost realize how small your hands are—sure, you could hold the highlighters with one hand, but he’s glad you aren’t because now he can admire just how small you are as a whole.

You set the yellow and blue down on his desk, making sure they don’t roll off for a moment before uncapping the pink and hesitantly holding out a hand for Ghost’s arm. He rolls up his sleeve and obediently holds out his arm for you, watching curiously as you press the cold tip of the highlighter to his skin. You’re starting by coloring in the skull a neon pink, much to his amusement, and you’re starting in the dead center of its forehead.

You’re so much more quiet than you usually are when you’re little, and you’re so much more hesitant, it makes Ghost want to just wrap you in a blanket and keep you safe and in his sight forever.

Your tongue slightly pokes out from between your lips as you concentrate on coloring in Ghost’s tattoo, making him grin beneath his mask. The ink of the highlighter doesn’t stay within the black bounds of his tattoos at all, but he doesn’t care one bit, and he doesn’t think you care either. You finish up the skull quickly, and move onto the scythe that’s right next to it, this time capping the pink highlighter and grabbing the yellow.

Ghost is pretty sure this is gonna stain his skin for a day or two, but he couldn’t care less.

He can’t help but notice how much more relaxed you look in your regressed state. More at peace, he should say. There’s no longer a hunch in your shoulders, your eyes aren’t twitching from your headache, and you’re not bouncing your leg like you usually do when you’re sitting down somewhere. It’s like any anxieties you had pre-regression had evaporated, like slipping into a younger mentality had taken away most of your worries, if not all of them.

He also can’t help but wish he could see you like this more often. Not necessarily the regressed part, but the relaxed part. Well, maybe the regressed part too. You’re being such a sweetheart right now, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to live through this experience.

“You having fun there, darling?” Ghost asks, his grin evident in his voice. The corners of your lips quirk up at the pet name and you nod silently, and now Ghost is starting to think you’re actually trying to kill him. You’re being so uncharacteristically shy, and you’re being so quiet, and you’re just being so sweet.

It seems you’ve moved onto the blue highlighter now, coloring in the last bit of his tattoo. He doesn’t think he’ll ever wash it off—or, at least, he wouldn’t if he had a choice. He knows that he has to shower sometime soon, but surely he can put that off for a bit, right?

Once you’re finished with your coloring, you cap the highlighter, and set it down next to the others you’ve discarded. You turn Ghost’s arm the tiniest bit towards him so that he can see your work better.

“‘s it good?” You ask quietly, watching intently for Ghost’s reaction. He looks over your coloring job and hums approvingly.

“It’s amazing, I love it,” He assures you, smiling down softly at you, “You did great.”

You seem to preen at the praise, and you take your hand off of Ghost’s arm, moving to put in your lap. You’re keeping yourself very contained, Ghost notices, Why?

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears you yawn, and you quickly move to cover your mouth as you do. He’s reminded that it’s almost twenty-two hundred, and while that usually wouldn’t be an issue for him, it’s an issue for you. You originally came to the 141 as someone who had a sleep schedule almost as fucked up at Ghost’s, but soon developed a habit of going to sleep somewhat early considering the training you had in the morning. So, now you get tired anywhere from eighteen-hundred to twenty-one hundred. After that, your only goal is to find somewhere to sleep.

“Sleepy?” You nod tiredly, making Ghost coo, Ghost, the man who quite literally haunts some people’s nightmares, coos at you, “Aw, of course you are, sweetheart. Pretty sure it’s way past your bedtime by now.”

“Nuh uh,” You deny, making Ghost chuckle.

“‘Nuh uh’?” He asks, amused, “What d’you mean ‘nuh uh’?”

“No b’dtime,” You shortly elaborate.

“Ohhh, okay,” Ghost feigns realization, “You think you’re too big for a bedtime, huh?”

“Mhm. Way too big.”

“I dunno about ‘way’ too big,” Ghost hums, checking to see if the highlighter on his arm has dried before he pulls his sleeve back down. “You seem pretty little to me.”

“No,” You whine, dragging out the ‘o’, “Not lil’.”

“Hmm… you sure, kiddo?” Ghost asks, “So if I ask you if you need to go to bed, you’re gonna say ‘no’?”

That makes you hesitate, and Ghost almost thinks he’s won, before your own pettiness wins and you nod affirmatively. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Alright, well, you’ve gotta sleep at some point,” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair.

You think this over for a second, and he watches as you look over him for a moment before looking down at his lap, then looking back up at him. He can already tell there’s some sort of plan forming in your mind. Wordlessly, you get up, and Ghost does nothing to stop you as you decide to just plop yourself down into his lap. You straddle his thighs, moving until you’re sitting comfortably on him, and then let yourself slump forward so that your face is resting in the crook of his neck. It takes him a moment to process what just happened, before he laughs lightly and wraps both of his arms around you to keep you in place.

“Oh, okay,” He grins, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you just wanna cuddle with me until you fall asleep? Is that what this is?”

He feels you nod against his neck, and his grin grows as he rubs one hand against your back, trying to soothe you to sleep. He doesn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract you from your attempts to sleep anymore, simply letting you stay slumped against him. Your breathing wasn’t too fast-paced to begin with, but as you relax even more in his arms, he can feel your breathing even out.

You’re falling asleep fairly quickly, and the only complaint he has is that he didn’t get to spend nearly as much time as he wanted to with you while you were awake and regressed.

Once he’s sure you’re barely awake, he murmurs, “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that?”

—

You don’t know how long it’s been since you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by the slight rustling of clothes, and then you feel yourself moving up.

Your mind still feels foggy and you can tell you’re still somewhat in that younger mindset of yours, but now you’re significantly less bothered by it than you were before. You’re awake enough to be aware of what’s happening, always having been a light-sleeper, but not awake enough to know exactly what’s happening. You don’t dare open your eyes, and try to keep your breathing even—though that isn’t much of a challenge.

That headache that had been building up earlier has fully disappeared, thank God, and you no longer feel the tension in your shoulder that you’d been unconsciously carrying.

You can sort of feel someone’s arms snaked under your back, and you know that you’re being moved somewhere. Quickly, you remember that it’s Ghost carrying you, and that you had fallen asleep on him, much to your embarrassment. Or, at least, it would be much to your embarrassment if you had the mental capacity to feel embarrassed about that right now. But you feel so comfy and so safe that it really doesn’t matter to you right now.

You can hear the clicking of Ghost’s boots against the concrete floors of the hallway, and he’s carrying you off somewhere; you imagine that somewhere to be your sleeping quarters. He’s walking pretty fast, not hurriedly but still at a somewhat fast pace.

Soon, he reaches a stopping point where he has to awkwardly put one leg up to support your back on his thigh as he quickly reaches one arm out to turn the knob of the door to your sleeping quarters and pulls that arm right back to support your back again. He sighs as he puts his foot back down, kicking open the door and walking in.

He’s quick to reach your bed, and he pauses as he considers what to do. You can practically hear him thinking, wondering how he’s gonna get you under the covers while he’s still carrying you, and for a second you think about showing him you’re awake so that things are easier for him before he sets you down on the bed.

He pulls the covers up and stops when he reaches the part your body covers, and picks you back up, before dropping you right back off where the blankets have been pulled away. He pulls the covers back over you.

After a few moments, you think he’s left the room, before you hear the rustling of fabric and feel him leaning down. He gently presses his lips to your forehead and pulls away after a second or two, before quietly mumbling, “Night, kiddo.”

He stays there for a moment before you hear his footsteps leave the room, and then the door clicking shut behind him as he leaves the room entirely.

You’re quick to fall asleep after that.

#cod #cod hcs #hcs #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #ghost #age regression #caregiver ghost #ghost x reader #platonic ghost x reader #platonic ghost #i find him so lovely #hes my dad guys trust #i was literally meant to be his kid #trust that if i ever get any cod games with him in it i will spend the whole time admiring him #dad pls come back home #i miss u #python333

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absolutebl · 1 month

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Top 10 Great BLs That Are REALLY hard to find (but worth tracking down)

But you may want to go hunting anyway!

Seven Days

Seven Days: Monday-Thursday

Seven Days: Friday-Sunday

Japan 2015

Never doubt my ability to recommend this show. One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes (rare in Japanese BL). The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses.

Cherry Magic AKA 30-sai made Dotei Da to Mahotsukai ni Nareru rashii

Japan 2020

The sweetest fluffiest magical realism BL, packaged as a pinning office romance, very low heat (practically chaste) but the cutest. It’s truly great.

Cherry Magic Thailand

Thai 2024

A soft charming warm hug of a show about crushes and mind reading and self worth, with no-fuss execution from a consummate team and an OG lead pair proving why they remain eternal and deserve to grow up. Look, here’s the thing, Cherry Magic is a great Thai BL in its own right not comparing it to any other iteration. But even when I do compare (and I've seen all the Cherries and read the manga) it still stands. I personally like it slightly better than the Japanese live action, but I think that’s because I just really like Thai BL and I LOVE TayNew. Also all the kissing was both present and better than any other iteration. As it should be from Thailand.

I Feel You Linger in the Air

Thai 2023

IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but no as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy BL... from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show could easily have earned a 10/10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls in the final quarter. Argh. Whatever.

All about the ecstasy and the agony here.

Restart After Come Back Home AKA Risutato wa tadaima no ato de

Japan 2020

Atmospheric study in rural Japan meets complex family dynamics built on a romance framework of city boy meets country boy, grumpy/sunshine. It’s beautiful and icy sweet. Slow moving in places but ultimately worth the patience, low heat, low angst, and stunning.

Given

Japan 2021

Boy joins band, falls in love with other boy. The singing is terrible, fast forward through that but with the possible exception of the hair styles, this BL could have been made in 2015 and no one would be surprised. As such, it wasn’t ground breaking, but it didn’t disappoint either.

Make a Wish

Thai 2023

A doctor who can see the dead strikes a bargain with a wish-granting irreverent tree angel - naturally they fall in love (from Sammon: Manner of Death & Triage). Stars Fluke Natouch opposite not Ohm, but who cares because Fluke has chemistry with everybody. Once again the Thai afterlife is incredibly bureaucratic but I enjoyed the premise and the unfolding of the story (it’s not predictable but still satisfying and with nice little twist). I like that the doctor is just gay AF - fag hag bestie and all the swagger. The cast is excellent but the comedic stylings are a bit overblown and tonally off. It had sad parts and did make me cry but is ultimately happy with a great sex scene, good smiley kisses, and all the agency.

2 Moons The Ambassador AKA 2 Moons 3

Thai 2022

A Thai pulp that felt like it came out 5 yrs ago with many of the flaws inherent to that time and studio system, including manufactured angst and convoluted plot, but an ultimately sweet main couple that (as a pairing) feels a bit more modern and satisfying to watch than they started out. This will probably go down in history as one of the few BLs where I genuinely didn’t care about any of the side couples. All that said I find this show oddly appealing and rewatchable and I have no excuses for that.

I Want to See Only You AKA Kimi no Koto Dake Mite Itai

Japan 2022

This is a beautiful, well acted piece of cinema, about two boys who are opposite personalities and grew up together. Gifted and serious Sakura pines after outgoing eccentric manic pixie dream boy, Yuma. It is very pretty and this is the kind of atmospheric elegantly performed BL that only really comes from Japan (complete with dead fish kisses - what you though Korea invented them? oh no).

Triage

Thai 2022

BL does Groundhog Day featuring a doctor stuck in a time loop who must save a poor little rich boy from death by seducing the stuffing out of him, then PLOT TWIST, poor little rich boy must do the same for doctor! Unfortunately... stuffing keeps leaking. I thought the plot was engaging if a little redundant and occasionally exhausting. The pairs were all well done, low heat but with decent chemistry and the support characters were likeable (or unlikeable, as required). If anything, the romance arc detracted and distracted from the main plot, but that doesn't stop this from being a genuinely good show.

HONORABLE MENTION

Great Men Academy

Thai 2019

Bodyswap involving unicorns making a teenage girl into a boy makes this questionable as a BL (because, ya know, gender). But the fact remains that James is killer in the lead, and I (who do not like bodyswap) loved this damn show. Look, there is actual plot, hotties at boarding school, "bully the one you love" trope, some weird VR shit, very bad CGI, and yes, the boys end up together... whether they boys or not, so to speak.

Some of these shows may appear on a smaller streaming service, like WeTV, or they may be on a legal platform in your territory. I hope it goes without saying you should check there first.

(source)

This list updated Spring 2024, not responsible for cool stuff that went missing (or was added to a platform) after that date.

It's it last in a series the rest of which are:

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sttoru · 7 months

Text

⟣ tags. gojo satoru x reader. angst. major character death. jjk 236. no comfort because i like to hurt myself mentally. mentions of death and blood. megumi mention.

⟣ note. nothing just tears and agony. no i actually cried making this, couldn’t proofread through my tears.

the sky was pretty. pretty as it always has been. maybe even prettier now that satoru’s realised how free he is.

looking up at the limitless sky, the overflow of blue, the crispness of the air — a needed moment of peace.

the ground was harsh. a contrast to the sky. as was the silence around him; the only sounds being his shallow breathing and the debris crumbling in the area.

the warmth radiating from his body was still there. faintly, but there. he wondered if you were there with him. he couldn’t tell — his senses were dulled. his icy lashes covering most of his vision, his sky-like eyes only seeing what’s above.

maybe you were with him. not physically, but mentally. you’ve been looking at him. . . at least, that’s what satoru hopes. he hopes that you’ve seen him fight. he hopes that you found him cool. perhaps even handsome with that blood on his face. you always told him he was pretty no matter what — satoru hopes you still do even in this state of his.

satoru hopes you don’t find him to be weak. he hopes you saw everything; how he fought until the end. how he fulfilled his duty as the strongest.

satoru hopes you don’t hate him for this. it’s the last thing he wants; for his loved one to despise him whilst he’s on his way up that staircase, leading him to the friends he’s lost. he’s leaving you behind—that much was true—but, if he had a choice, he wouldn’t go.

satoru hopes you know he has no say over his fate. if he could fight death itself, he would do it twice; one time for you, the other for himself. that way you could be together forever.

with his students; the little boy he has to yet tell the truth to. megumi.

satoru blinks once. that action by itself taking a toll on his body. everything was numb, yet everything hurt.

he wishes you were there for him. maybe hold him one last time in your embrace whilst his soul departs. he doesn’t like it—feeling the warmth in his own body slowly dissappear. he wishes you were hugging him now, so that at least he could leave this world in warmth — your warmth. your comfort.

not this cold air. the cold breeze. the cold fate. the cold death.

a voice interrupts his dying thoughts of you. a voice satoru knows. it was muffled. his eyes glance at the source; megumi. in his dying moments, he doesn’t see him as sukuna anymore. even if there wasn’t a glance of megumi in that body towering over his.

it was still his little boy. the boy he watched grow up — the boy he fed and clothed. the boy he had tons of memories with. the boy you and him had trained to be such a powerful sorcerer.

satoru smiles. not at whatever sukuna had said. but because even in his last moments, he’s proud. proud of all of his accomplishments. he’s been a good friend to his classmates, he’s been a good mentor to his students and he’s been a good lover to you. that’s all that matters now.

regrets are in the past.

satoru hopes you will remember him. he hopes that everyone will remember him for who he was. not only as the strongest or the honoured on — no, as his own person excluding all his abilities and powers.

those mean nothing now that he’s taking his last breath. all which holds value are the memories he’s made along the many years he spent together with everyone.

those are all that matter now. and those are all that will be left of him.

the last thing he imagined was you. talking to him.

his heartbeat slowed to a stop, the last gasp of breath left his lungs, the vision of the endless sky being enveloped by a darkness he’s afraid of;

though, his fears were thrown away by his own brain, which worked hard at its last moments — to create a voice that sounded like yours — to soothe himself before meeting his end;

you did well, satoru. it’s time to rest.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #uhm okay i think this was a bit .. LMAOO I CRIED #jjk spoilers #jjk leaks #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk

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juuuulez · 6 months

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WE NEED MORE CARL JERKING KFF HEDCANNONS PLSSS

can’t believe i’ve just done a carl grimes jerking off trilogy…….but i have no regrets

once again, turned this one into a small oneshot, with x reader!!! soooo enjoy (also could definitely be read as same reader from capulet)

NSFW under the cut, all characters depicted are 18+, MDNI.

Due to your relationship being secret, yourself and Carl often had to go outside the compounds of both Alexandria and the Sanctuary to truly enjoy each others company.

Because of this, you two struggled to be intimate with each-other, as the time and place was never right. It was always too dangerous, or there wasn’t enough time.

Usually, you’d meet in the woods. It was like a fun game, stalking around the trees, careful not to make any noise. Whoever saw the other first got to lunge, try and capture their prey.

The two of you would roll through the twigs and grass, fighting to see who could pin the other down, prevail as the strongest. It didn’t really matter, except for bragging rights, until your next scheduled tousle.

You’d ended up near a fallen tree, Carl still squirming on the floor as he attempts to get you off him, but you’re determined to stand your ground. You snake your hands up his arms, using all your strength to pin his wrists above his head.

That’s it, he’s lost. As such, he accepts his punishment (or reward, for feeding your ego?), letting your mouth come down onto his to capture it in a hot kiss.

It’s heated, feverish from the start, licking into Carl’s mouth, your tongues swirling together in a mess of teeth and spit. It’s always like this, as if it’s the last time you’ll ever see each-other, that this moment will cease to exist ever again.

You take mercy on him, releasing his wrists from your grip, allowing him to grab onto the flesh of your hips. Now, you can snake one hand into his hair, the other gripping just below his jaw.

Wanting to shift into a better position, one where you can feel him under you, you sit up. Eager to keep your lips connected, Carl follows, shifting backwards enough so that he’s leaning against the fallen tree, with you seated on his lap.

A steady rhythm grows, arms tangled around each-other, holding on like a lifeline. You develop a slight motion of rocking against him, the movement encouraging your heated makeout session, Carl palming your ass over the thick fabric of your jeans.

Eventually, breathless, you pull away. It calms down, transitioning into something softer, peaceful. You kiss over Carl’s face, lips dancing on his cheeks, forehead, nose. In turn, he tilts his head back, resting against the tree while you adorn his body with your love.

Deciding you’ve spent too long here, guards down, you begin to stand. Carl’s hands fall from your hips, his back straightening again, eyes downcast.

You follow his gaze, a small grin spreading on your face. “My poor boy.” You coo, leaning back in to kiss at Carl’s cheek, an embarrassed blush spreading across his pale skin.

There was an obvious tent in his jeans, arousal having developed over the course of your making out and heavy petting. It was impossible to miss, and you openly acknowledging it caused Carl to squirm at the attention.

When you reach down, letting your palm ghost over the bulge, his breath hitches. “You don’t have to. It’ll go away.” He assure you, that nervous glint in his eye. So cute.

“No, no, I want to.” You tell him, one hand settling on Carl’s hip, the other working at his belt buckle. He calms down a little at this, leaning back against the tree, submitting to your actions. Yet, he’s still watching you observantly, wanting to gauge your every reaction.

His cock is half-hard in your palm, slender and pale as the rest of him. You give it a few slow, leisurely strokes, savouring the way it hardens under your touches, growing to its full length. The tip reddens, a pinkish hue enveloping the head of his dick, appearing strained just from the slightest ministrations.

Carl let’s out a soft moan, causing your gaze to flicker up to him. In response, he clamps his teeth down on his bottom lip, silencing any other reactions. But your smile is sweet and caring, despite how you’re currently jerking him off, leaning in to continue kissing over his cheek, then down to his neck.

“It’s okay, baby. Let me hear you. It’s just us.”

It’s impossible to resist, causing Carl to grip onto your arm, his other hand fisting the leaves and dirt as he pants heavily next to your ear. You practically thrive off his reactions, learning exactly what makes him feel good, trying to wring as much pleasure from the boy.

When you squeeze over the head, his legs jolt upwards, body curling inwards, towards you. You continue the motion, running your thumb over his throbbing tip, watching as Carl drops his head onto your shoulder with a needy moan.

It’s perfect, so perfect.

You continue to pleasure him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear as you twist your hand over Carl’s cock, over and over, manipulating your actions as he nears the edge. Faster, tighter, and then you’re putting a firm pressure on the swollen head, nibbling on his neck, as sticky streams of white finally spill onto your enclosed fist.

“Good boy.” You whisper, continuing to milk out his orgasm as you nurse Carl’s softening cock, careful not to let it brush against the rough fabric of his jeans.

With a sultry grin, you bring your hand up, watching his wrecked face as you lick the substance from your palm. It’s salty, coating your tongue and lingering on your tastebuds, leaving the hand shiny with saliva.

The lewd act causes Carl to gasp, eyes blown wide as he watches you, absorbed by this side he’s never seen before. His body still tingles from the aftershocks, and when you lean forward to kiss him again, he can already feel himself returning to attention.

He’ll never jerk off alone again.

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes x you

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xthescarletbitch · 1 month

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Hey there... I'm terribly angry about something big and outside of my control at the moment. Could you let me know what you'd think the BG3 companions do if Tav started self destructing? Like Tav passing harsher judgments, snapping at neutral NPCs, or fighting more dangerously and recklessly with bad guys?

hiii! i am sorry for the delay, but here is how i think it will go for the bg3 ladies and a tav who is self-destructing. i hope it can bring you a little comfort during this rough time. sending you all the love!

bg3 ladies helping a self-destructing tav (x reader)

sfw, but i still prefer no minors

cw: self-destructing behavior, some tough love, fluff!!

word count: 2000+ (each is roughly 450-550)

tav, who is usually calm and collected, is showing signs of self-destruction. they are speaking differently than usual, taking a riskier approach to confrontations, snapping at innocent bystanders, and fighting more recklessly when in danger. the following baldur’s gate 3 ladies take note of this and decide on how to proceed.

lae'zel

at first, lae’zel doesn’t notice anything wrong. she does notice the change in behavior and attitude but doesn’t necessarily see it as a bad thing. the action that ticks it off for her, however, is witnessing you fighting a bit more recklessly than usual. she admires your tenacity and can sense your anger, but she also senses something more. for her, her anger is not a weakness, but a strength, which is why it takes her a moment. she is not used to seeing that side of you, so she grows a bit concerned. her first intervention is trying to get between you and your target. it’s not that she doesn’t think you can handle it; she just cannot risk seeing you hurt yourself any more than you already are. she doesn’t even care if you get angry with her, either. she’ll snap back and remind you to stop being so careless. it’s just her way of protecting you. she notices something is really wrong when she sees more out-of-character occurrences from you. she watches you closely with her hand on her blade, just in case you find yourself in trouble. she wonders if staying back and silent is the best course of action when you are going through this, but she ultimately decides to approach you about it. she lets the rest of the party get a bit ahead of you while staying back and walking by your side. “zhak vo'n'ash duj,” she says softly. “what is the matter?” she’s not versed in any sort of means of comfort, but she does try what she has seen from you and the others. if it were any other githyanki, you may be told to suck it up and carry on… but lae’zel can see you’re hurting, and she wants so badly to protect you from yourself. as she waits for an answer, she will look around to ensure that the others don’t see before she runs her hand up your back slowly. she understands if you choose not to tell her at that moment, but she still tries to be soft with you about it, especially after trying the tough love approach earlier. she doesn't leave your side until after she sees your expression soften, to which she looks around again and plants a kiss on your forehead. she shares a small smile with you as you continue on your journey. later, when you’re able to get a moment alone, lae’zel offers to let you fight her to get all your feelings out. battle helps her express how she’s feeling, so she swears that it’ll help you. she’ll go a bit easy on you, letting you get all the hits you need in. she won’t stop until after you’ve called it quits. and afterward, when you’re ready, she’ll take you to a nearby water source to wash up and just talk under the moonlight. lae’zel won’t be able to rest that night until you’re feeling better. in bed, she’ll offer you some wise githyanki words as she runs her hands up your arms, fully embracing the cuddling session you find yourselves in. she’s come to enjoy it quite a lot, and she hopes that this instance will bring you the comfort she struggles with bringing herself.

minthara

minthara, with all of her astuteness, notices rather quickly that something is the matter with you. if it’s not by your body language while communicating, it’s by your tone and vocabulary. she takes great pride in knowing you so well that she can pick apart the tiny details about your mannerisms. even with this, she’ll let your actions go on for a little bit because she doesn’t quite see anything wrong in how you’re acting. in fact, she kind of likes it, but also reminds herself it’s temporary and that you will be okay. after all, when she’s feeling overwhelmed, she doesn’t want to be approached about it. so she leaves you alone. however, there comes a point when she knows that you’re getting yourself into a deeper hole, and she just cannot let that happen to you. she’s been there before–at a low point where she’s felt trapped inside her head. minthara can confidently say that it’s a torturous experience, and it’s the last thing she wants for the one she loves. she wants you to feel safe and loved, not miserable and careless. that’s when she’ll start to consider ways to approach you about it and figure out an effective way to care for you. after much consideration, she decides that the best time to question you about your behavior is later that night after everybody has retired to their tents. you go back to your shared tent, a frustrated look plastered across your face as you enter. the first thing you notice is a few candles placed around your bedroll and minthara sitting on top with some bottles beside her. she opens her legs and pats the floor between them, motioning for you to sit in front of her. you’re puzzled for a moment but comply. if you’re being honest, you’re exhausted from how you’ve been feeling. whatever minthara has planned should be nice, right? as you sit in front of her, minthara wraps her arms around your front and squeezes your waist. she places kisses behind your neck as she slowly lifts your shirt off of you. once the top is thrown to the side, her hands come off you and you notice she slathers them in some oil. the next thing you feel is her hands squeezing your tense shoulders, rubbing her fingers into your sore muscles at a slow pace. she also places more kisses upon the spots where she feels the most tension. no words are said, just minthara giving you a sensual massage to try and make you feel better. she’s never been good with comforting words, but she will do all she can to help you otherwise. she spends the rest of the night making sure that all the anguish has left your body. this is her way of telling you that she is there for you in mind, body, and spirit. you are hers, and she will take care of you if you let her.

shadowheart

shadowheart has a lot of experience with self-destruction, but she doesn’t notice your behavior as quickly as she’d have liked. she only notices when you lead the party down a riskier path during a mission rather than taking the safe-and-sure route. she’ll question you about your decision, to which you may or may not snap back at her. no matter what, though, shadowheart will just step back and be quiet based on your response. she doesn’t exactly appreciate your attitude, but she’s been there before, so she tries her best to be understanding of your feelings. it’s not worth making either of you upset over making it a big deal. the thing is, shadowheart won’t just stand back for long. she starts to really dislike where you’re going and decides that enough is enough. she knows the signs and knows the inevitable, and if she can prevent all of the bad, she will. she’ll try to mend what’s hurting. she spares some extra heals for you during fights, ensuring that your condition is okay–that you’re not cursed or afflicted by something she can actually cure. she’ll try to make things easier for you, such as using a cantrip to light up an area that you may not be able to see as well. she’ll even try to ground you at the moment, pointing out beautiful sights during your journey that she hopes may distract you for long enough to get your mind off things. and she will ask you about what’s going on. when she gets a moment alone with you, she takes you to the side and brings it up. she holds your face in her hands and makes you look her in the eyes. “my love, what is afflicting you?” she very much wants you to spill all the details, but she knows she can’t force them out of you. she understands how much one’s secrets are sacred to them. she only hopes you trust her enough to tell her what’s wrong so that she can help. whether or not you choose to tell, shadowheart will continue her tactics. for the rest of the journey, she keeps her eyes right on you the entire time, eager to keep you out of trouble. whenever you look her way, she’ll flash you a smile and a small wave to remind you that she’s not stopping. and hopefully, later that night, when you’re both ready to slumber, you’ll allow her to hold you close and help chase those inner demons away. having your company has certainly helped her with her own struggles, and she wants to do the same for you.

karlach

the precious karlach knows you all too well and notices almost immediately when something is wrong. witnessing you snap at a neutral npc leaves her puzzled because it is just so unlike you. it is at this point that she vows to try and make things better for you before they get worse (she couldn’t stand to see it get worse, anyway). so she’ll place a hand on your shoulder when witnessing the odd behavior, waiting for you to turn around and face her. “you alright, soldier?” she asks, with those puppy dog eyes. you can see that she’s worried about you, but you just feel too far gone. you nod and smile, hiding your pain–you don’t feel like dragging her down with you, let alone risking going off on her, too. it’s better that you keep your distance, and that’s something she senses. she takes her hand off of you and backs up, paying close attention to you as you continue your journey. karlach continues to think of ways to help you, and especially ways that you’ll let her help you. every time you meet her gaze, karlach sends you loving glances despite your snapping. she just wants to show you that you are still loved despite these low points and that she is here to help you. if you stare at her long enough, she’ll even blow you a kiss. you’d be lying if you said her persistence wasn’t helping you, but you were still hurting. at some point, everybody in the party is talking about taking a short rest. you don’t want to, but you can’t stand to hear them ask about it anymore, or you’ll be snapping at them, too. thankfully, you’re not too far from a decent spot to allow some relaxation. once you get there, you notice karlach is a bit giddier than usual. your other companions take their belongings and sit themselves around a fire while karlach grabs hold of your hand and lifts it to her lips to kiss it. you’re surprised that your behavior hasn’t scared her off yet but also touched that she’s so dedicated. “let’s go for a walk,” she suggests, leading you toward a trail surrounded by trees. you have no choice but to oblige. karlach continues to hold your hand as you walk through the wooded area, being sure not to speed too far ahead of you. she turns to you every so often and smiles at you when she makes eye contact. she’s really trying to make it better. you finally stop at a spot where the trees line up in a way that allows light to pass through a single spot, highlighting the path in front of you. karlach goes ahead a bit to set up a little picnic, ushering you over. she shows you some berries that she’s managed to pick when you weren’t looking, offering to feed them to you herself. she spends the rest of the time showering you in love, not quite wanting to initiate a conversation about what’s been going on, but makes it known that she’s there regardless, whenever you’re ready to talk about it.

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rinslutz · 9 months

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hello! If requests are still open how about a hurt/comfort fic where geto and reader were in a relationship before he left. After geto leaves, gojo and reader help each other deal with geto's absence and they eventually fall for each other many years later.

(sorry if that was confusing 💀)

ᥫ᭡ “BURY A FRIEND” — GOJO SATORU

ㅤꞋꞌꞋꞌ fem!reader, friends to lovers, character death

a/n: not too sure if i like how this turned out.

gojo lost two friends the day geto made his choice. you lost a friend and someone who you thought was the love of your life. you weren’t his though. he made that obvious when he left without a “goodbye.”

when geto left you disappeared too. for a while, satoru wasn’t sure if you were dead or alive. eventually, you showed up at his apartment one day, drenched in the downpour of rain. your eyes were bloodshot red and you were thinner than when he last saw you. this was a familiar sight and he wouldn’t let this be a repeat of last time. he refuses to miss the signs that he did in his best friend.

since then, you rarely spend time apart. any time not spent at school is spent at either of your apartments. eventually, the familiar laughter and happiness returned between you two. you didn’t think it ever would but satoru had made it his mission to make you happy again.

unfortunately, happiness doesn’t always last very long.

“he’s dead.” for a second you’re not sure you’ve heard him correctly. gojo doesn’t say anything else and neither do you. suddenly everything and every sound is overwhelming. the quiet clicking of your watch, the low hum of your refrigerator, your heart pounding in your chest. every sound is louder than usual.

“i’ll be there soon.” you don’t need to say anything. gojo can hear your shaky breathing and maybe your pounding heart too. gojo is barely holding himself together, but he knows that if you sense even the smallest quiver in his voice you’ll break down. so, he swallows the growing lump in his throat before hanging up.

gojo expects to find you in a puddle of tears when he arrives at your apartment. somehow, what he finds is much worse in his eyes. you sit as still as possible on your sofa, emotionless eyes staring blankly ahead of you. you make no movement even as he grabs your shoulder. he invades your line of sight, and the look in your eyes makes his heart drop.

he can’t lose you again. he can tell that if he loses you to this there's no coming back. he grabs your face in both of his hands and forces you to look at him. it’s almost as if you’re looking right through him.

“hey, can you look at me please.” his voice is soft as he pleads with you. finally, your head shifts a bit and your eyes focus on his. immediately, thick tears stream down your cheeks. he lets you cry but he doesn’t dare remove his hands from your face.

“did you get to speak with him?” through your tears there’s a hopeful look in your eyes. he knows what you’re hoping to hear and it hurts him that he can’t tell you what you want to hear.

“yes, but he didn’t say anything about you.” and for a second he thinks that he should’ve lied. he should’ve told you that suguru asked about you, said that he missed you, said that he still loved you. he can’t lie to you. he’s never been great at it anyway. you’d see right through him.

you just nod in response. you brush away your tears with your knuckles.

“i figured.” you smile sadly. he places a kiss against your forehead in response. for a second you stiffen. he’s never done anything like that. he pulls back, startled by his own actions.

“sorry, that was a mistake. i’m not sure why i did that.” he laughs awkwardly. maybe today is full of mistakes. maybe you both aren’t sure how to deal with today’s events.

you pull him into a kiss. maybe you’re an idiot for this and maybe gojo is too because he kisses you back. his hands move from your cheeks to your forearms. the pads of his fingers softly dig into your skin. his grip on your arms is so tight it’s as if he’s afraid of you slipping away.

“i love you.” gojo whispers into your mouth. he immediately wishes had kept his mouth shut. he wishes he didn’t have to kill his best friend earlier today because then he wouldn’t be here. he wouldn’t be here confessing his love to his best friend’s ex.

satoru leaves without another word and he’s sure he’s lost you for the second time.

there has never been an awkward moment between you and satoru, but recently he just hasn’t been able to look you in your eyes. the first time you saw him after that night, he pretend the kiss never happened. he pretended suguru’s death never happened. he was back to his playful ways. you know him though. you can see in his eyes how much pain he’s in. you can see the longing in his eyes when he looks at you.

you wonder if that longing look has always been in his eyes. maybe you were too in love with suguru to notice. maybe gojo has been good at hiding it all this time, but now that he’s had a taste of you he can’t any longer.

satoru hasn’t spent any prolonged time with you since that night. you miss him. you miss the way he easily brightens your mood. you miss your daily hangouts. you miss the way his lips felt. if it wasn’t for the way his eyes light up when he sees you, you would assume that he doesn’t miss you as much as you miss him. you’re determined to make him talk to you even if you have to tie him down.

satoru is going insane. he never thought someone’s lips could feel so perfect against his. when he’s not fighting a curse or teaching his student he’s thinking about you. but sometimes thoughts of you slip in during those times despite how much he tries to push them away.

he misses you. sometimes when he’s driving home he catches himself heading to your apartment instead. in the past couple of years, since suguru left, he’s spent most of his time there. even now that he’s avoiding you, he always finds himself near you. it’s like his body is gravitating toward yours.

he’s embarrassed and scared if he’s being honest. he’s convinced himself that you're disgusted by him kissing you that night. he thinks that despite how you still smile at him when you try to speak to him. though your smile immediately drops when he finds an excuse to escape a conversation with you.

as you walk towards him, a look of determination on your face, he can tell that this conversation is going to go differently.

“when are you going to stop avoiding me and put on your big boy pants and have an adult conversation with me?” you cut right to the chase. no ‘hello’, no greeting of any kind. gojo smiles though, despite how embarrassed he is.

“someone’s feeling feisty today.” this is the first thing gojo has said to you that wasn’t ‘sorry gotta go.’ you’re still angry with him. he’s avoiding the question like you knew he would.

“you told me you love gojo,” you say as if he doesn’t know. he knows, it's all he’s been thinking about.

“you can’t say you love me and then not speak to me for a week.” you’re hurt, he can tell by the tone of your voice. he looks away and you think he’s going to leave again.

“i’m sorry. it’s just..i know this is probably too much for you right now-”

“i love you too.” this time gojo is not sure he heard you correctly. this must be a dream and soon he’ll way up in his bed, alone as usual.

you walk closer to him and the hardened look in your eyes is gone. and for the first time, you look at him with that familiar look. the look you always gave his best friend. that’s what makes this even harder.

“if you hadn’t run off I would’ve said it back that night.” you jab a finger against his chest but your eyes are still soft. though, the look on your face has changed. it’s not that familiar look anymore. it's different. it's new. it’s only for him.

“i love you satoru,” you say softly.

gojo is tired of avoiding you, of avoiding his feelings. he’s tired of his body gravitating towards yours and having to fight it. he’s tired of missing you. so, he tilts your head back by your chin, he pecks your nose before slotting his lips against yours.

he has you now and he’s not tired anymore.

©rinslutz

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen

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writing-makes-me-human · 1 year

Text

Trial By Water 🐚

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

Pairing: Aonung X reader

Summary: Aonung is hiding his jealousy of your new courter and you have to track him down to find out why he’s suddenly become so hostile.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Hi,not dead. Let me know if you enjoy it and if you would like me to write part two( I have some ideas). My requests are always open if you want to request a character from ATWOW or if you want to talk. Anonymous is available if you’re shy :)

P.S: I’m thinking about adding a tag list, let me know if you would consider being on it or what I could do to make that seem more appealing.

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

You emerged from the water and stumbled onto the shore, desperately fighting the waves as you brushed your hair back as smoothly as you could while scanning the beach. Sure enough, sitting between two dunes, working on something you couldn't quite make out from this distance, was Aonung.

Tsireya had come forward to you this morning before breakfast and asked you to talk to her brother. He had become even moodier than ever these last few days, and the worry on her face made you forget the petty boycotting you and Aonung were in the middle of and you forced yourself to agree to speak with him.

He had been avoiding you for the past week like you had a contagious disease, and even though you wanted to seek him out and demand he tell you what was wrong, he had skilfully been steering clear of his usual spots where you knew to find him.

With nowhere else to search, you decided to brave the waters and swim here in an effort to track him down and interrogate him.

His back faced the sandy knoll that broke up the shrubbery line from the sandy beach. He seemed pissed off even when he thought he was alone. Aonung, with nowhere in mind, had found his way to the back of the island where the mangroves didn't grow and the people didn't come. Nobody came to the deserted beach for leisure in fear of losing themselves against the waves that naturally pulled you against the rocks when one tried to swim anywhere on this side of the island.

Coming to the beach from the inland would have been safer. The venture through the wooded area was guarded by many people who would be out foraging or hunting. You didn't need to bring shame to Aonung by bringing more people into your dispute, as someone would have eventually asked why you were going to the most uninhabitable part of the island that was often reserved for lovers' long nights alone.

He had spotted you out of his peripheral vision, his only tell was the way his ears pressed back against his head, not at all by his warm greeting and friendly demeanor that was not offered to you.

You trudged up the uneven sand terrain with an eye roll; he was so dramatic, sitting up here all by himself.

You watched the boy as you clambered up to meet him. He did not acknowledge you as your shadow fell over him. The water you had just been swimming in dripped onto the dry white sand below you and onto his knee that was pointed towards you, his other leg lay flat while his head was bowed. He was eagerly working on something that he didn't care to present.

"So what's got your loincloth in a twist?" You asked, trying not to sound exhausted or patronizing, even though you were slightly irked at his recent suspicious behaviour.

He didn't concede to you and continued playing his own game of pretending you didn't exist while working, adding more force to his actions now that you had arrived to bug him.

You crouched down, peeking around his head to see what he was doing. You smiled softly to yourself as you saw he was carving a spearhead. You watched for a few seconds as he roughly scrapped away wood shavings, pulling his knife to the top and letting it make a satisfying slice before returning to start the motion again. The point was rather sharp, and from the outlines he had made, you could see he was going to add deep serrations onto the side of the blade.

"That looks a bit too lethal for any fish around here. Are you planning on killing me?" You asked, watching him ignore you. He kept the pace he had set for himself and continued whittling.

"If you are going to kill me, you have to grant me a last wish, it's the warrior code, and I wish for you to tell me why you are sitting here, by yourself in a pout, plotting my death", you smiled gently but he didn't even seem even to clock you had spoken.

"AH! Fine, you win! Just tell me what's wrong. Your sister and I are worried about you!" You hissed at him, getting enraged by his anger that he was not willing to do anything to rectify, which only furthered his attitude. It was becoming tedious to live with.

He finally broke the rules of his game and looked at you. Your face faltered as you saw the most heated hatred in the boy's eyes that you had ever seen in his entire life. He pulled his top lip up in an instinctual quiver to show off his fangs, his eye bore into your soul before he returned to his work, shaving the wood away.

You stood, glaring down at his hair which had been re-braided with looser locks that lead to his signature man-bun at the top of his head. He had hurt your feelings, but you persisted, he was your best friend and you wouldn't leave him like this.

"So, you go away for a hunting trip, come back a week later, and suddenly you don't want to be my friend anymore? If you're going to do that to me you must at least explain yourself!" Reasoning with him seemed to make it worse as his shoulders tensed more from your words. He took a particularly powerful dig into the wood that skinned back a large shaving.

"Careful", you muttered as you paced around him in a circle like a vulture, trying to ascertain what had changed over the past couple of weeks. He looked the same, with no new scars or injuries, the only perceivable difference was his perspective of you.

You paused behind him, leaning down on your knees into the sand that clung to your wet body. You gazed at his back, seeing his muscles tense up and his ears flicker as he listened out to try and identify what you were doing.

You suddenly pressed your hands flat against his lower back which caused him to take a sharp intake of breath. He straightened his posture, and his head clocked up to stare ahead, but still, he didn't speak. You felt his lugs draw in more and more air but he didn't talk, he just gazed over the water and glared at the spot where the water met the horizon and tried his best to ignore as your palms rubbed circles into his back to try and soothe him.

"What's wrong pretty boy?" You whispered, allowing yourself to lean slowly onto him. Your hands crept up to his shoulders and stayed there for a moment, rubbing them with a soft massage before your hands travelled lower, sliding down so you could rub at his pectorals from behind.

He didn't gauge a reaction except for a sharp exhale that sounded caught between annoyance and anger. You hummed in his ear quietly, pressing your stomach against his back, your hands sliding themselves under the sides of his ribs, forming an 'X' shape over his chest that let you cradle him.

His ears twitched for a second before changing directions and turning to a sad downturn. He allowed you to hold him like that for a few seconds before he muttered something under his breath.

"Huh?" You asked, eager to hear what he finally had to say.

"I said that's an ugly bracelet", he quipped, bringing his left hand to your right hand and holding it up for you to see the brown cord that had the small pearl weaved into it.

You focused on the feeling of his hand on yours more than inspecting the before-seen jewellery, gently smiling as his rough hands slipped away, knowing he had broken some more arbitrary rules he had set in place so he could ignore you. Allowing you to touch him made it much harder for him to think, let alone concentrate on being mad at you for so long.

"It was a gift from Ixa'Tey, I think he gave it to me while you were away", you didn't bother admiring it, returning to nestle in the crevice of his neck.

He scoffed at you and moved forward a great distance. He used his arms as oars to push himself off the sand and as far away from you as his long arms would allow him, not caring as you tipped from the balance. That was until you grabbed onto his queue by accident and tugged on it to try and stop yourself face-planting into the sand.

He froze, and you immediately dropped the long braid, falling onto your hand now that your reflexes could manage it. You were silent as you scooted back. He dared to turn and look at you and couldn't help the amusement he felt when he saw you were blushing hard, a hand pressed against your face to try and hide it.

His annoyance at the mention of his old friend from childhood, who he knew had started courting you, was gone as he looked up at your beautiful face.

"I'm sorry", was all you managed to whisper as you stood up, entirely embarrassed you had touched such a private part of his anatomy on accident.

His smile caught you off guard, and you pulled your hand away, gawking at his grin that perked his ears up.

"You're a skxawng", was all he could seem to mutter to you as he scooted back a little, a silent welcome to talk to him.

You smiled widely, feeling the urge to be mad at him for finding amusement in such a taboo thing fade along with the tinge of blush that had previously been on your face.You plopped down next to him, staring at his spearhead and knife that were placed beside him while he crossed his legs, putting aside the work until later.

"Why are you upset?" You asked, watching as his smile died suddenly and his scowl appeared again.

He eyed the carving beside him, but you quickly leaned over his lap, ignoring how his hands flew above his head so he didn't risk touching your skin. He knew if he felt you here with nobody around, the young future chief wouldn't be able to resist his wants, thus turning himself in when he would inevitably confess his most profound feelings to you at the mere touch of your more private skin. He was distracted, watching your waist stretch in front of him like a platter, ignoring how you grabbed the wood block and knife and tossed it to the side of you, watching where it landed while Aonung slapped you upside the head as he lost sight of it.

"That took me all week!" He yelled, but you hushed him with a finger. Placing it on his lips and gesturing for him to breathe.

He took a small breath, watching your ears flicker as you stared at his chest rising and falling. You finally pulled back your hand and tried desperately to record in your mind what the soft flesh of his lips felt like against your finger.

He evened his breathing and returned to your conversation while rolling his eyes as you looked at him expectantly. He didn't want to talk about the previous two weeks, which was why he had been so careful to keep you at more than arm's length.

He knew he was expected to be happy for your new future, but Aonung couldn't bring himself to be anything more than angry, so he tried desperately to stay away and keep from ruining your new life.

"When I got back, people told me things", he mustered from deep below his emotional walls.You settled, watching him with eyes full of readiness, eager to take on what he said, but he did not continue. He chose to turn instead and look at you, his ears pressed back against his head in anger once again.

You groaned loudly, allowing yourself to fall onto your back on the sand. It was always a great big dance with Aonung to figure out his true feelings, and with every step forward you thought you had taken, he was already leading you three steps back.

He watched you groan and mumble, feeling guilt entrap him as he thought about how he had been treating you. He had come to the furthest point of the island to ignore you, and you had followed him to try and cheer him up, yet he still couldn't seem to work up the courage to say what he was thinking.

"They said...that you had mated with someone", he spoke almost silently, hoping the words would be captured by the sea and carried out far away from here where the ugly emotions he felt boiling in his stomach would die.

You sat up, staring at him, a sign to go further, but he growled, not wanting to continue without your acknowledgment to see where your mind was going.

"So? I haven't mated with anyone, I've only just turned 19!" You huffed out a sarcastic laugh. He, however, did not join you in laughter and turned to look down at his hands.

"Aonung, you know how people rumour around the reefs, people place bets on who every young one will mate with, it doesn't mean it's what I have decided", you reasoned, slowly catching onto the reason he was so upset. You placed a caring hand on his knee, and much to your surprise, your heartthrob let one of his fists unfurl and lay on top of yours. Hand on hand.

Even though his jealousy had ended with such anger and unease spread through everyone and everything you couldn't help the giddy glow you had at the idea of Aonung being jealous of people trying to court you.

He nodded to himself, of course, he knew that! He had nearly died of asphyxiation from the laughter he let out when he heard about you and Ixa'Tey being mated. The boy was insufferable and had no rank to speak of, he would have been a terrible match as your mate.

You smiled, waving your hand in front of him in a silent order for him to continue. Seeing you eased every word out of him while a terrible battle fought in his heart, debating with himself if it was worth the risk of telling you he wanted you.

"Yeah, of course, I know that! But when I got back, Rotxo said you two had been courting--and don't deny it either, I've seen him hanging around you like a bug", he seethed.

The one time he had actually calmed down enough to track you down and talk to you about what he had heard and make his claim to you, there the little insect was, following you around with gifts in his hands destined for you and shells in his hair Aonung knew you had braided in. Watching you laugh at his jokes made him want to break the idiot's face, so he just left. He didn't want to face you.

You sighed, rubbing your face gently. Aonung watched you closely, trying to interpret every twitch your eyes made and every flex of your eyebrow.

"I won't lie, he has made a claim to me, and my parents approve", you spoke as strongly as you could, watching him hiss at nothing, muttering words under his breath you knew he meant but wouldn't repeat to you.

"But I haven't said yes to him", you gripped his knee tightly, begging him to believe you. He squeezed your hand back in answer.

"Is there someone else? Why haven't you said yes to him?" He had to know where he stood with you, even if it broke him down and turned him heartless.

It was your turn to become sheepish and standoffish towards displaying your emotions at the boy. You couldn't tell him, even if this was the perfect place and the crucial moment to do it, you couldn't bare the idea of him laughing at you or, worse, quietly rejecting you.

"I don't think I can say..." you whispered, feeling the palpation in your chest grow more frequent.His anger flickered, and his face fell to curiosity, he gawked at you with those powerful eyes you tried to ignore while he crept on you, his breath changed, his heart rate increased, and his hands felt sweaty.

"Why not?" He asked, feeling the words get caught in his throat.

"Ixa'Tey is just not the one I want", you mumbled, feeling your face heat up again as you didn't dare look at him.

The clueless boy felt his heart sink. You did have your eyes on someone, and by the way you weren't even meeting his eyes, ashamed to even look at him, he knew it wasn't him.

"Who is it?" His fists balled together, his aggression clear through his unintended tone that oozed infuriation at the idea of anyone being considered good enough for you.

You let out an exhale of disbelievement at his stupidity. If he were going to act so stupidly, you would at least get your payback at him for making you swim out here after a week of thinking you had done something wrong.

"You know him well, he is very handsome", a slight grin appearing on your lips as if in happy thought, imagining the boy sitting next to you in your head while Aonung rolled his eyes, trying to think of every boy he had ever interacted with.

"He is one of the best hunters in our tribes, so very skilled", he clenched his fist tightly, pulling the hand that had been holding yours away, not daring to look at you because Aonung knew he would explode if your face were matching the tone in which you spoke about this boy.

"Who is it?" He asked again, this time though his voice was worryingly even, meaning he was enraged beyond all shadow of a doubt.

"Sometimes I go swimming with him, and I picture us doing terrible things behind the rocks, it's so embarrassing because he has no idea what I'm thinking", this quickly drew his attention and he couldn't stop himself from glaring hot daggers at you while you dreamily imagined being intimate with anyone who wasn't him.

"I was hoping he would make a claim to me before anyone else, especially since we've known each other so long, but he didn't", as you spoke these new words, you felt your ears flicker in despair. You really had been hoping Aonung would have made a claim to you before he left but he didn't. Ixa'Tey had stolen you away, and your parents were thrilled to encourage it, but you knew every time you were with him that you secretly wished it was somebody else.

"He's a moron then if he doesn't claim you", his fists were an unnatural colour now as he tensed them. He hadn't thought of you dealing with unrequited love in the same way he was. He would do anything to protect you, and if that meant beating in the face of some guy who broke your heart, he couldn't even pretend the idea made him any less than smug.

"I agree!" You yelled, hands raised to the sky as if he had just said something groundbreaking.

"He's more than that, he's a skxawng!" you yelled. He pulled back, a bit confused about your total 180 on this mystery boy, who you had gone from melting at the mere idea of to firing up at without mercy.

"He is such a conniving brat! First, he makes no claim to me, gets upset when another does, then has the audacity to take off for a week, comes back mad at me, then makes me swim to the other side of the island just to get some sense out of him!" You had jumped up halfway through the speech, punching one hand into the other with a grin before you waited for him to catch up.

His eyes widened beyond control. He could only watch you while taking heavy breaths. The words and feelings you had both been trying to cover up now lay open in front of one another. Your smile faded as you watched him look at you. Had you misinterpreted him? Did he not like you? His mouth was open, but his eyebrows were pointed down in careful questioning.

"Me?" He asked softly, trying not to sound desperate, knowing your rejection would crumble him up and drown him.

You did confess that perhaps admitting it was him you wanted to mate with more than anybody else while making a joke was probably the best way to send the poor man mixed signals.

He stood slowly, head cocked to the side, as he walked to you in two short steps. He looked down at you with the most severe look on his face you had ever seen. He bumped into you lightly, chest touching yours as he tried to find what to say.

You nodded, leaning forward with your eyes never leaving his. His skin burnt a hole through you, and his face was so close you could smell the sweetness of the oils used in his hair.Staring into his eyes made you feel like nobody else, Aonung didn't just look up and down like a few others did, he looked into your soul.

When you were children, you used a childish bullying tactic on his sister that would always catch a reaction. The two of you used to pretend that you and Aonung were such close friends you could read each other's minds, it was a treasured memory. Right now, though, with his eyes peering past your body and into your very being, you swore he could pull anything he wanted from your mind with those eyes looking into every part of you that you wanted to keep private, just like you pretended to do when you were kids.

"Yes, it's you skxawng", you whispered, tilting your head up a bit to press your forehead against his, feeling his cool skin aline with yours making your heart beat like a drum and your breath tremble.

"Good, nobody else would have been good enough", he matched your volume, both of you allowing your hands to reach to the other's face in an affectionate embrace. Everything felt perfect to you as the sound of the water not far from where you were standing crashed against the beach with a roar.

"I see you", he mumbled, louder than his whisper but not quite in the usual volume he used that commanded respect.

You pulled away from his forehead, stroking his cheek with your thumb while you grinned from ear to ear.

"Does this mean you've made a claim to me, or should I go back to speak with Ixa'Tey", you grinned devilishly, finding that the teasing lightened up the air that was thick for your desires of what to do with one another. You were two young adults in love on a beach with nobody in sight, but you still had traditions that must be obeyed even though you knew nobody could lay a claim to you that would burn brighter than Aonung's.

He pulled back a little, hands coming up to smack you before they fell to rest on your hips, squeezing timidly at your sides while you laughed, taking no notice as the symphony squeezed his heart.

"I lay claim to you, and I intend to court you better than Ixa'Tey ever could", he rolled his eyes and spat out the boy's name while you absorbed in the fact that after so many years, he had finally got the guts to say he wanted you as his mate for life and he was going to claim you.

#aonung #aonung x reader #aonung x y/n #romance #avatar #way of water #avatar way of water #avatar way of water x reader #pandora #atwow x reader #atwow imagines #atwow spoilers #avatar x reader #avatar 2022 #ao'nung #ao'nung x you #ao'nung x reader

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ladyloveandjustice · 3 months

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My Top 12 Favorite Anime of 2023 (and more)!

This was a great year for anime, so here's a long list of my top 12 (including some bonus great anime). If you get tired of clicking the review links, check out my anime overview collection for all of them here. You can also check out my list of favorite manga here!

Some of these are ongoing, so consider those only a review of the first cour-- no official endorsement on the rest because it hasn't aired yet!

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury (Season 2)

When I listed G-Witch in last year's top anime list, I prayed the show wouldn't betray me. Fortunately, it didn't! Though the final half of the show was a bit rushed, it remained must-see, compelling sci-fi full of exciting twists and turns. And I adore the well developed romance between the robot-piloting protagonist and precious girl, Suletta, and her fierce fiancé, Miorine. Whether you’re here for starcrossed queer lovers, robots wrecking each other, tense battles between opposing political factions, or morally-horrifying moms on a revenge spree, you’re in for a treat.

See my full review here.

Yuri is my Job!

Hime is roped into working at a cafe where the waitresses playact as students of the fictional all girl’s school from a beloved novel series. However, Hime finds her co-worker, Mitsuki, has an inexplicable grudge against her. Thus begins a tangled web of romance and wounded feelings among the girls in the cafe! Yuri is My Job seems like a fun comedy boasting a cast full of quirky lesbians, but then reveals itself to be a complicated and fascinating examination of performance- as it intersects with queerness, girlhood, and the desire to be “likeable” and “cute". It's top-tier lesbian drama full of fraught relationships and it's absolutely worth a watch.

See my full review here.

The Apothecary Diaries (still ongoing, review is for the first cour)

Though it's still going, I have to sing the praises of this dazzling anime about a saavy apothecary who uses her medical expertise to solve the many murders and betrayals in the Emperor's palace. MaoMao is a fantastic lead, a poison-obsessed gremlin who's whip-smart, deadpan, and fun to follow. The Apothecary Diaries has intrigue, well-developed characters, and an impeccable atmosphere. It tells a great range of stories, from romantic triumph, to bittersweet tales of recovering from grief, to pure tragedies. I'm totally hooked.

See my full review here.

The Magical Revolution of the Reincarnated Princess and the Genius Young Lady

When Euphie is dumped by her fiance at a ball, the oddball princess Anis rescues her. Euphie becomes Anis' assistant in her quest to develop magical tools. The girls also start to develop feelings for each other, while discovering a conspiracy among the nobility. I'm always desperately in need of cool lesbians having action-packed fantasy adventures, and Magirevo delivers. The characters grow in entertaining ways, we get to see them fight dragons in killer action scenes, and the romantic development is completely satisfying. It's a simple story at its core, but the lovable characters, joyous queerness and jubilant execution make it a great watch.

See my full review here.

Birdie Wing: Golf Girls' Story (Season 2)

In the second season of the anime about girls homoerotically golfing while dealing with the mafia and ludicrous family drama, Birdie Wing remains a bombastically absurd sports anime that is fun all the way through. Please come watch these girls get ridiculous sports injuries, scream their super golf attacks, experience extremely extra plot twists--and be super gay with each other, of course. The finale didn't go quite as hard as I wanted (and the romance is more subtexual than I wanted), but you need to allow yourself to experience the madness of Birdie Wing.

See full review here.

Skip and Loafer

An endearingly dorky, earnest, and driven girl moves from her small town to Tokyo. While she struggles to adjust, she befriends a nice popular boy who's got some baggage. Skip and Loafer is a show that’s like a warm hug. It's sweet, entertaining and funny. It handles adolescent struggles with tender nuance. There's a emphasis on kindness, connection, and looking past stereotypes and misconceptions. It also includes a trans character who's treated with respect (and is a great character in general!) Let this show touch your heart.

See my full review here.

Undead Murder Farce

An immortal woman has had most of her body stolen by a mysterious man. Reduced to a head carried around by her maid, she teams up with a half-demon man to track the thief down while solving supernatural mysteries all across Victorian England.

This a fun, campy mystery series starring three asshole weirdo protagonists, it’s bursting with supernatural creatures and literary references. We've got Sherlock Holmes, The Phantom of the Opera, Carmilla and more...along with a vampire murders and werewolf drama galore. UDM is a wonderful romp with stylish, slick direction... and it’s unexpectedly really gay. I’m aching to see more of these scrappy misfits and their adventures.

See my full review here.

Migi & Dali

A story of twins who are pretending to be one kid in order to fool their foster parents and find out who killed their mother. It starts out as an utterly absurd comedy becomes a impressive and genuinely tense murder mystery that is incredibly moving at times, all while keeping up it’s signature brand of goofiness. There’s genuine commentary on abuse, the damage you can do to children by forcing perfection on them, the struggle of being a foster kid, grief and recovery and more. There's also some great character development. It's a weird one, but it's absolutely worth sticking with.

See full review here.

Pluto

Somebody is killing the most advanced robots in the world and murdering humans alongside them. A robot detective is trying to track this killer down, but he might be compromised as well. Pluto is a tense, tense, tightly plotted robot murder mystery that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Through robots, it explores the idea of being a tool in a corrupt system, and tackles subjects like war, imperialism, and the nature of hatred. It's a masterful psychological thriller with stunning animation and a rich story.

See my full review here.

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

This anime approaches the story of Scott Pilgrim and Ramona's seven evil exes from a brands new angle, and the results are great. We get a exploration of relationships and regrets, the messiness of communication and connection, the trials of becoming an adult, all with the signature goofy video game antics. Characters neglected in previous iterations finally get their due, new facets of the story are explored, queer relationships are delved into more, girls kiss...and it's all accompanied by phenomenal animation and a killer soundtrack.

See my full review here

Soaring Sky! Precure

Sora lives in a world called Skyland and wants to be a great hero. When rescuing the kidnapped baby princess, she falls through a portal to earth. There she meets her fellow magical warriors, and as Precure they protect the princess from the villains!

This vibrant, warm-hearted adventure got me back on the Precure train! This series boasts a lot exciting firsts for the franchise--the first official male cure, the first main cure that's eighteen years old- but above all, it has a lively team of characters with who have an entertaining dynamic and enjoyable individual journeys. It's often very funny, the baby has a surprisingly good character arc, and it's bursting with magical girl (and boy) goodness! It's also not afraid to give you an emotional gutpunch when you've been lured into a false sense of security by all the fun times. If you're new to Precure, this is a great jumping on point, and if you've watched it before, this is a series you won't want to miss.

I'm in Love with the Villainess

Rae is reincarnated as the heroine of her favorite dating sim. But she has no interest in romancing any of the boys- she’s head over heels for Claire Francois, the snooty villainess.

Villainess may not be as polished--storywise or animation-wise-- as these other entries. It's a messy series, it has plenty of problems...but it's also very fun, and it touched my queer little heart like no other. Queer people get to indulge in our imperfect faves too, and the silly shenanigans, blatant lesbian wish fulfillment, honest advocacy for queer people, and the joy and earnestness of the series works for me!

See my full review here.

Some Other Great Anime:

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (still ongoing, review is for the first cour)

Frieren is a long-lived elf who was once part of an adventuring party that saved the world from the Demon Lord. But now her friends are passing away and the world is moving on. She decides to retrace her old party's journey so she can understand what she's feeling.

Frieren is both an interesting examination of what happens after the hero saves the world, as well as a meditation on mortality, grief, and the endless march of time. It takes you on a quiet, beautiful and sometimes touching journey though a pastoral fantasy world. There's some breath-taking animation and excellent atmosphere to enjoy.

See my review here.

Spy x Family (Season 3)

Spy x Family is pretty much staying the course from when we last checked in, though this season gives a lot more attention to Yor, and I love the cruise ship arc and all the ridiculous fights she gets into a lot! That arc contains some of my favorite gags of the series too (like Loid’s attempts to be a cool dad). Otherwise, Spyfam has settled into a series that intends to be around for the long haul, so don’t expect too much forward plot momentum. And Yuri (the man, not the genre) unfortunately still exists. Overall it was good season and remains a fun adaptation. Yor, please step on me.

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pedritomosquito · 11 months

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All Choked Up (Ch 2)

MINORS DNI

Summary: After your post-rehearsal hook-up, how will shoot day with Pedro go?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Content: SMUT, Minors DNI Blog, choking, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected P in V, Daddy kink, enthusiastic consent, Pedro is a consent king, soft dom, praise, degradation

Chapter 1 Here

“Action!”

You dart forward, knife raised as Pedro advances toward you. His large hands grip your forearms and you try to tear your way out of his grasp. He twists your wrist just enough for the knife to fall from your hand. His fist flies toward your face and you throw your head to the side to sell the punch. You allow him to easily push you the two steps back until you feel your back hit the wall.

He’s stepped right up into your space, your bodies nearly pressed together, both of his hands around your throat. You can feel him panting on your cheek, eyes locked on yours. You put all your efforts into struggling against him. You claw at his hands with the pads of your fingers so you don’t scratch him and writhe in his grasp. The feral glint in his eyes is only growing the more you fight and you know it’s Joel, not Pedro, but your mind is absolutely running away with the primal display.

Once you lose consciousness, Pedro lets go and you drop as heavily as you can to the floor. He walks out the door which leads to dead space between set walls, out of view.

“Cut!”

You open your eyes and Pedro reappears above you with his usual soft expression. He helps you back to your feet and can’t seem to stop himself from reaching out and fixing one of your rogue hairs this time.

“Thank you,” You smile and he shoots back a wry one of his own.

“Okay,” Craig says, a bit slowly, like he’s interrupting something, “That was… great, but I need you to act like you hate each other this time.”

Oops. Guess you were having a bit too much fun.

“Let’s reset,” He directs, then looks at you and Pedro and reminds you both, “You want to kill each other.”

You and Pedro are both nodding. Pedro looks a little embarrassed, which you find some glory in.

Jess starts straightening you back out for the next take. She has a shadow of a smirk on her face.

“What?” You question her.

“I didn’t say anything,” Jess maintains her innocence.

“Jess.”

“Y’all just look like you’re having fun out there, that’s all,” She shrugs with a knowing tone.

“Alright, let’s go again!” Craig called.

You shoot another take and after calling cut, Craig waves you and Pedro over to the monitor.

“Come see what we’re seeing,” he says.

They play back the take as you and Pedro watch. The sequence does seem a bit… heated, in more ways than one.

“Pedro, I need you further back from the wall for the choking—and your faces are too close. It’s not creating the right kind of tension,” Craig instructed.

Exactly what kind of tension it is creating goes unmentioned.

“And I need more fear from you,” Craig tells you. “Your character is fierce and brave, but towards the end you’re realizing you’re about to die. I need that terror. Sound good?”

You and Pedro are both nodding like bobble heads, desperate to try again and undo the impression you’ve given everyone. You’re both people pleasers, for better or worse.

The next take finally reads like a murder instead of a porno, but it’s turning you on without fail. You have to do two more takes after that before Craig deems them ready to move on to the next angle.

“Just a minute to set up the next camera angle, please,” Craig says.

You’ve soaked your underwear to the point of discomfort. In a fit of equal parts pettiness and arousal, a downright evil idea springs to life in your mind.

You walk the few steps over to Pedro, casually pulling him through the set’s fake doorway. The space it leads to is hardly bigger than a closet but it’s out of sight of the crew. He looks at you curiously and is about to say something when you stop him, crowding him against the wall.

“You,” You say, hand slipping under your waistband to dip two fingers into yourself, “Made a mess.”

You withdraw your hand and bring it up to his lips.

“Clean it up,” you whisper.

His mouth parts silently and you slide your fingers in. His tongue drags along them, sucking them clean.

As quickly as you’d pulled him aside, you exit back onto the main set, leaving him behind without another word. You make your way over to Jess who starts fixing your hair.

It’s a long moment before you see Pedro emerging from the doorway from the corner of your eye.

“You good, Pedro?” Craig asks with a touch of concern.

Everyone within earshot turns to look at him, including you. His face is a little flushed and his eyes look wild. He schools his expression, even though the blush is continuing to spread down his neck.

“Yep!” He says with an easy grin.

You walk past him to your starting mark, twirling the knife in your hand.

“Someone needs to work on their acting,” You tease quietly with a smug smile, “Can see it all over your face, querido.”

--------

“Alright, that’s a wrap for today,” Craig called, “We have cupcakes here for Tina’s birthday, don’t forget to grab one on your way out!”

Cupcakes? Hell yeah, thank you Tina!

After you change back into your clothes, you find a small group crowded around a table with the birthday treats. You shuffle through and pick up a vanilla cupcake. You see Pedro across the small room and you catch his eye.

You decide you’re not done playing games with him today.

You take your finger and swipe it through the soft, white frosting. You stare at him as you lick at the sweet icing before sliding your entire finger into your mouth.

The intense look in Pedro’s eyes sparks a fire of anticipation as he swiftly makes his way over to you. He stands a little close, seeming to tower over you. You look up at him innocently.

“Need a ride home?” You ask.

“Yes, I do,” he answers through gritted teeth.

You sit in silence as you drive down the dark road. You sneak glances at him, catching his profile in sliding strips of streetlights. You can feel his eyes on you too. He shifts in his seat and you can tell he’s trying to subtly adjust his pants.

You pull into his driveway and throw your car into park.

You look over at him and he simply leans over the center console, pulling your keys out of the ignition.

“Come inside.”

Your breathing is shallow. You just nod and climb out of your car, following him up the front steps.

As soon as the door is closed behind you, he has your back pressed up against it, one hand on your throat, another on your waist, and a knee pressed between your legs.

“Do you understand what you’ve gotten yourself into?” He asks, lips nearly against your cheek, “Do you know what’s going to happen now that you made me want you so fucking bad?”

You shake your head minutely, holding your breath.

“I’m going to make you fall apart with my mouth,” He explains slowly, “And then on my fingers. And then I’m going to fuck you good and deep.”

He’s nodding as he speaks and you mirror him mindlessly, clutching onto his shirt.

“How does that sound, querida?” He asks. You nod more emphatically but he interrupts and says, “Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“S-sounds good,” you manage to whisper.

He lets out a soft laugh and a genuine grin tugs on his lips. His touch lightens. “You really are just a sweet little thing, aren’t you?

“All bark and no bite,” You confess quietly with a sheepish grin.

“You like it when I’m rough with you?” He asks sincerely.

“God yes,” you answer instantly.

He chuckles again, the darkness flowing back into his eyes. His hand from your waist travels down and palms over the crotch of your pants.

“The safe word is cupcake, okay?” He whispers in your ear, a precious secret just for you and him.

“Okay,” you nod, your eyes falling shut.

“Try it,” he directs you softly.

“C-Cupcake,” you repeat it hesitantly.

The weight of his body against yours disappears and his hands withdraw. You open your eyes to see him standing in front of you.

“Good girl,” he praises softly. He then snatches up your wrist and tugs you into him. “Fuck I can’t wait to see you cum again,” he says before his lips lock onto yours.

He’s soon dragging you down a hallway and into his bedroom. You pull off your pants and he does the same. He starts undoing his shirt but you take over, making him sit on the edge of the bed. You straddle him as you undo the buttons.

“Missed being in your lap,” you sigh, hands working down his shirt. He hums in agreement as you push the fabric off his shoulders and his mouth finds yours. His hands find the hem of your top. He pushes it up your stomach. You take hold of it and break the kiss to pull it off. You reach back and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms.

He drags a hand down your chest, too tempted by the expanse of soft skin not to touch it. You roll forward and both of you let out contented noises at the sweet friction. He wraps an arm around your back to pull your bare chest flush against his, feeling his heartbeat against your own.

You rake your fingers through his hair and he grabs your ass, pressing you down tight onto him. You’ve soaked through the thong you’re wearing and you’re already leaving a wet spot on Pedro’s briefs.

He stands up with you still wrapped around him, turns around, and tosses you down onto the bed.

He crawls up beside you, licking over one of your nipples on his way to your lips. His hand travels down between your legs.

“God, are you always this wet?” He asks reverently, rubbing slow circles over underwear.

“Siempre estoy mojada pensando en ti,” You reply. I’m always wet thinking about you.

He groans deep in his throat and you feel him push his hard-on against the side of your hip. “Didn’t know you could speak Spanish, querida,” He says breathlessly.

“Sip,” You nod, squirming under his touch. Yep.

“You’re just full of goddamn surprises, aren’t you?” He teases, rolling his fingers tortuously slow.

“Pedro–please,” You say, trying to circle your hips.

“What?” He asks innocently, “You want me to slip my fingers underneath these and touch your wet pussy, play with it til you cum?”

The vulgar words coming from his sweet mouth sends a rush of heat over you.

“Mhm,” You nod fiercely.

He pulls his hand away instead and a wounded noise leaves your mouth.

“I don’t think I will,” he says defiantly, “I think I need to taste you again.”

“Oh my god, yes,” You murmur. He moves down your body, placing himself between your legs. You watch as his teeth scrape over the skin of your left hip and capture the waistband of your underwear. He hooks a finger under the other side and drags the fabric down. You help him slide it all the way down and off.

A broad hand settles on each of your thighs and he pushes your legs apart. You can feel his breath rolling over your wet cunt before his tongue glides over you, bottom to top, gathering up the taste of you. You gasp and sound rumbles deep in Pedro’s chest, vibrating against you.

He covers all of you with his mouth, overwhelming you with heat. He runs the underside of his tongue over you and he feels so soft, like a ribbon of silk.

His tongue strokes and circles your clit.

Your hands weave into his hair.

“Fuck, yeah,” you breathe.

He begins sucking gently, alternating with flicks of his tongue. The more he works you over, the faster your breathing becomes.

He moves his tongue down, pressing it into your entrance. You grind into his face, your clit pressing to his nose.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re getting me so close,” you pant.

He can feel the way you’re clenching around nothing, trying to grip his tongue.

He pulls away and you whimper.

“All fours. Elbows and knees.”

You comply instantly, rolling onto your stomach and dragging your knees up underneath you. You expect to feel his mouth or cock press against you, but instead you feel the mattress shift. Pedro lays on his back, his head underneath your hips between your legs.

“Oh fuck,” You breathe, taking in his position.

He yanks your hips back and pulls your cunt down to his mouth. He starts by flicking his tongue over your clit, making you jump. His hands grip tighter, keeping you pressed to him. One of his thick fingers begins to circle your hole before dipping inside.

You push back against him, gliding your clit over his tongue and taking his finger deep inside you.

“Oh fuck yes,” You moan. You’ve never done this before, not in this position, and it’s simply divine. You rock back again and are met with a second finger slipping inside you. “Fuck!” You tilt your hips to hit Pedro’s tongue just right.

Pedro turns his head to the side, kissing your thigh.

“That’s it, querida, use my mouth,” he says, “Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

“Holy shit Pedro,” You breathe as he returns his mouth to your clit, “feels s-so good.”

He just groans in agreement. He sucks your clit until you can’t keep still, pushing back into his fingers. He opens his mouth, allowing you to grind on his tongue. Your thrusts devolve from polite to needy.

His fingers begin to press down harder, rubbing over a sensitive spot inside you.

“Fuck, just like that!” You tell him. You start to lose control over the rhythm of your hips. He stays steadfast in his movements, making the pressure inside you grow and twist.

“Oh fuck, Pedro! Faster! You’re gonna make me cum!”

He hums against your clit, sending a vibrating jolt into the depths of your stomach. His fingers start hooking faster.

You feel a new kind of pressure rushing into the base of your hips and realize what is about to happen.

You wonder if you should tell him to stop, if you might die of embarrassment, but it doesn’t matter either way because your orgasm is bursting from you before you can act.

“FUCK—” You cry with a choked off sound, squirting on Pedro’s face.

You’d only ever accomplished this on your own twice and never at all with a partner. Dear god, you’re praying that he’s into this. Your hips jerk away from his mouth at the oversensitivity but he keeps up with his fingers.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he praises, “Soak my face.”

His words alone earn him another gasped “fuck” and more wetness on his cheeks. You look underneath yourself and find him with his mouth open, trying to drink in as much as he can get. You drop your head and cry out into the bedding.

When you come back to your senses and unbury your face from the sheets, your thighs are trembling and Pedro is firmly kneading them in his grip with grounding strokes.

You lift up your knee to un-straddle him and clamor down the bed to be beside him. You take his face in your hands and get a good look at how his skin shines with your cum. Before he can speak, you bring your tongue to his jaw, licking away the wetness.

“That’s it,” He says lowly, “My perfect little slut, cleaning up her mess.”

Your eyes become hooded at the new name as you continue to lap at his face. Pedro doesn’t miss it.

“Aw, you like being called a slut, don’t you?” He smirks, “My sweet girl isn’t so innocent after all, huh?”

You groan and start pawing at the waistband of his briefs. He takes your hand in his and guides you to palm over his cock.

“That what you want, querida?” He teases.

You nuzzle your nose into his cheek and nod with a whimper.

“Say it,” He demands.

“I—I want your cock,” You reply.

“And where do you want it?”

“Want it inside me,” You reply, groping him through his underwear, “Want you to cum while you fuck me.”

He sits up and slides off his boxers. He leans over and grabs a condom from the night table, tearing it open. He places it on the tip of his cock.

“You’re going to put this on me with your mouth, okay?” He directs with a condescending tone that makes your brain whir.

You nod, moving so you can place your mouth on him. You wrap a hand around the base of him and start working your lips down his shaft, unrolling the latex. Pedro’s hand winds itself into your hair as he groans.

“Next time, you’re going to fuck me with that beautiful mouth of yours,” he decides in a strained voice, “But right now I have to have your pussy wrapped around me.”

“Mhm,” You agree with your lips wrapped around his dick. With the help of your fingers, you unravel the condom all the way down his thick cock. Pedro gives a tug on your hair, pulling you off of him and guiding you up the bed. He climbs on top of you and lays his body over yours. His left hand strokes over your throat as he speaks in your ear.

“You had fun today, didn’t you? Teasing me at work,” he chides, mouthing at your neck, “You wanted me to know that you’re a dirty little slut, huh? So I’d know to treat you like one?”

You nod with a little whimper escaping.

He rolls his hips and his hard length slides over your clit and back, notching at your hole. You try to push against him but he pins your hips with his own.

“You know what I think you want more than anything?” He teases, “I think you want my hand around your throat while I fuck you.”

“God, Please, Pedro,” You nod, your hips attempting to buck up into his again.

The fingers stroking over your throat stop and his hand spreads across the fragile skin.

His hardened facade falls away for a moment.“Tap twice if you want me to lighten up, three times for cupcake, okay?” He whispers.

“Okay,” you whisper back. “I’ve—I’ve never done this before,” You admit, placing your hand over his.

“I’ll be gentle,” He assures you softly, “And we can stop whenever you want. Does that sound okay?”

“Yes.”

“Two taps for looser, three taps for stop,” he reminds you. “Show me.”

You tap twice on his wrist and he nods in approval, then you tap three times.

“Good girl,” he tells you quietly and your muscles tense up with a shiver. He captures your lips in a kiss, rolling his hips over yours. One of your hands moves to his hip and the other trails into his hair.

The head of his cock keeps grinding over your clit as he moves. You try to pull on his hip to get more friction but he stops.

“So needy,” he says, “be patient.”

You whine in protest, squirming under him.

“Please,” you beg.

“Please what?” Pedro asks, pressing a little on your throat.

“Ohmygod, I need you inside me,” You reply, “Please!”

“Okay querida, I’ll give you what you need,” he allows. He reaches down and guides the tip into your hole. He pushes forward slowly, giving you the first couple of inches.

The way Pedro gasps and moans into your ear makes you dizzy. He’s barely even a third of the way in and you already feel stretched. You grip onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin like teeth. He pushes in farther and you try to keep still and take it.

“Relax,” Pedro says quietly, the hand on your throat sliding off and resting on your collarbone, “Breathe.”

You open your eyes and exhale.

“That’s it,” he says, waiting a moment before continuing, “I’m going to give you more, okay?”

You nod and he places kisses over your cheeks as he pushes forward. Your hands regrip, pawing at his shoulders absently, looking for something to ground you. He’s a lightning rod in your storm of adrenaline.

“I’ve got you,” he says, “You can take it, querida. Doing so good for me.”

His praise loosens the aching stretch inside you. He eases in the rest of the way until you can feel the base of his stomach pressed to your clit.

“Good girl,” His head drops to your shoulder as he groans.

“S-So full, fuck,” you gasp.

“You like being full of me, sweetheart?” His voice strains.

You nod, reaching down to grab his ass cheek, keeping him close to you as you grind up against him.

His breath hitches and you catch what nearly sounds like a whine. He pulls back and pushes into you experimentally, fed by your delicate sounds and breathing.

“Goddamn, you feel so good,” he sighs heavily as he thrusts again, “Taking me so well.”

“Wanna be good for you,” You replies desperately.

“Oh yeah?” He asks menacingly.

You feel his hand slipping back up to your throat.

You nod.

“After being such a bad little slut all day,” He says, “Now you wanna be good for me?”

“Yes,” you squeak as he picks up a slow rhythm to his thrusts.

“Okay sweet girl,” He replies, leaning down to feed you scorching, messy kisses as he fucks you. You wrap your legs around him, forcing his hips closer to yours. You move a hand to the one he has on your throat and grip onto his wrist, pushing it.

He breaks his mouth from yours, easily clued in on what you want.

“If I knew all I had to do to get you under me was put my hands on this pretty little neck, I woulda done it ages ago,” He says, “You look so pretty with your bullseye necklace.”

You imagine his view, the bullseye tattoo between his thumb and first finger framed perfectly in the center of your throat. The thought makes you moan. Your grip on his wrist becomes more insistent.

“Okay,” he acquiesces to your silent plea. “Gonna start real gentle, okay?” He says softly, looking at you for permission.

You marvel at the way he drops in and out of his dominant character, rough all over yet smooth around the edges. Knowing that you get both sides of him—all of him—is intoxicating.

You give a small nod and he slows the rhythm of his thrusts, focusing in on his grip.

It’s not exactly the sensation you expected when he begins to squeeze his hand. He’s pressing in on both sides of your throat and pulses the amount of pressure he applies. It amplifies the feeling of his cock sliding inside you and you catch just the echoes of a misty, heady feeling. You want more.

He lets go and you moan at the loss.

“That feel good?” He asks. It’s dirty talk as much as it is an honest question.

“Yes,” You reply instantly, feeling the desperation setting in, “Yes.” Your hand returns to his wrist, already pleading for more.

“Easy, querida,” He hushes, “I’m taking my time with you.” He gives you a particularly slow, deep thrust.

“Oh god, love when you give it to me deep,” You admit breathlessly.

His hand leaves your throat and hooks your thigh, pulling your knee up higher to give him more access.

“You take it so well, sweetheart,” He praises, rewarding you with more.

He reaches new depths in this position, fucking you in places you swear were previously untouched. You cry out and your hands scrabble for purchase in his hair to his back to his shoulders.

“Fuck, please, please!” You beg.

“Tell me what you want,” he says.

You just whine in response, grabbing at his wrist.

“Tell me,” he commands.

“Choke me!” You finally manage to blurt out, “Please, I want you to choke me!”

“There you go,” He smirks.

“H-Harder, please,” you quietly add.

“So good, telling me what you need,” he replies, somewhere between sweet and wicked, “I’ve got you.”

His hand travels to your throat and he skims his fingertips over your skin before finding his grip, starting to press. As promised, it’s tighter than before.

It’s perfect.

The mist begins to blur everything but the feeling of Pedro fucking you, the sensation crystal clear and torrid. You would scream if you could. Instead, the pleasure stays locked inside you, building and swirling.

You distantly hear Pedro moan and it makes your cunt flush with a new wave of wetness.

He lets go of you and air rushes into your lungs.

“Yes, Pedro!” You exhale.

“Can tell you love it,” He replies with a strained voice, “Getting me all wet while your pussy grips me so fucking tight.”

Your inhibitions fall away with the way he reads your body like a book. There’s no hiding from him.

“Fuck me,” You plead.

He’s happy to obey, picking up speed. It’s hard and fast, slamming your hips with a tightening, growing heat. You know that you’re whimpering out little yes’s and fuck’s but it’s dulled against the lightness in your head.

“Already close again, querida?” That smirk returning to his lips, “You going to come on my cock?”

You let out a choked sob and can only nod in reply.

“Give it to me,” he says, fucking you impossibly harder.

The heat filling you to the brim climbs higher than you can stand.

“Da-Pedro!

Pedro immediately slows to a near stop and his eyes bore into yours. Your hand flies to your mouth.

“Oh,” He says dangerously low, amusement pulling at his lips and dancing in his eyes, “Now what do we have here?”

“Sorry,” You barely whisper. Humiliation rushes to your cheeks. He rolls his hips hard and presses even deeper into you, making a messy whimper tumble from you.

“No, you’re not sorry,” he replies steadily, withdrawing back, “Go ahead. Say it.”

His grip on your throat tightens as he buries his cock inside you.

“Daddy!”

“That’s my girl,” He nearly laughs, beginning to fuck you in a steady rhythm again, “Shoulda known. Such a good little slut, course you wanted Daddy to fuck you, didn’t you?”

You nod frantically.

“Deep breath, querida.”

You inhale and feel his hand squeeze tighter. Blood rushes in your ears and you watch him watch you. Four thrusts more and he releases you, leaving you gasping.

“There you go,” he says, “You love that, don’t you?”

“Yes Daddy,” You reply reflexively.

His hips stutter as he groans.

“Jesus Christ,” He breathes.

He suddenly hooks his arms under yours, pulling you up to sit chest to chest. He wraps one arm around your back to keep you up and his free hand is at your throat again.

“Oh fuck!” You helplessly cry as he fucks up into you, “Daddy!”

He tightens his grip on your throat and everything but Pedro leaves your head. There’s nothing but him, inside you, all around you.

“Make a mess in my lap, baby,” He demands, nosing against your jaw, “Come for me.”

He releases his grip and everything floods through you, burning hot and bursting. You come with your mouth falling open, unable to say a word.

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” he encourages as he fucks you through it, “Give it to me.”

Your soundless scream finally turns into a flurry of gasping sobs as you tremble in his lap, cumming hard.

“Good girl. Fuck, that’s my good girl.”

You’re drawn into the mist that hums quietly in your head. You feel Pedro’s hips slow underneath you and hear him swearing as he unloads into the condom inside you.

Every inch of your body is ringing with dizziness and sunlight and Pedro. You float in the blissful glow.

You’re drifting back down like a leaf falling from a gentle breeze when you realize there are soft sheets and a pillow underneath you. Your face is tucked into Pedro’s neck as he holds you, his quiet voice in your ear.

“You did so good, sweetheart. I’m right here, I got you. Such a good girl,” he murmurs.

You pick your head up a bit to look at him.

“There you are,” he says with a small smile, a hand brushing over your cheek, “Are you okay?”

“Um, yes,” you reply with an incredulous look. Duh. Thought I made that pretty clear when my soul left my goddamn body.

“Alright,” he laughed gently, “No need for the sass. I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay?”

You nod and reluctantly let him go.

He was wearing a condom so you wonder how much mess there could possibly be, but when you pull back the sheets, you realize that your own cum has coated your thighs. Jesus.

Pedro returns with a warm washcloth, gently wiping your skin clean. You watch his careful ministrations for a moment, hesitating to ask him the question on your mind.

“Was that…” You try to piece together the words, “For you, I mean—was that…”

“Mind blowing?” He offers.

“I was going to say extraordinary,” You giggle.

“Earth shattering.”

“Astonishing.”

“Divided life into two eras—before that fuck, and after.”

That assessment finally breaks you with a laugh.

“Yes, it was incredible, querida,” he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before retreating to the bathroom to get rid of the washcloth.

You sit up a little as you watch him go, knowing that you have a dumb smile on your face. You glance over at your clothes on the floor.

Shit, are you supposed to leave now? This is technically a hook up, so maybe you’re expected to get dressed and go, or slip out in the morning undetected.

What happened these past couple of days didn’t feel like a hookup. That wasn’t Pedro’s intention here, right? He was so intimate and sweet and sincere and…

God, what if you’re being ridiculously naive? What if he does this with every extra he can get his hands on? What if Jess puts concealer on his scene partner’s hickeys every week?

“Hey.”

Pedro’s gentle voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He’s approaching the bed, his gaze following yours to the outfit laying on the hardwood.

He sits down on the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go,” he admits quietly, “And I don’t want you to disappear on me in the morning.”

You just blink at him. How does he know you like this? You think back through your memories with him and try to put your finger on when he had managed to learn you like this.

“You can, if you wa—“ He quickly begins to correct himself.

You interrupt the doubt wavering on his tongue with your lips, kissing him short and fierce.

“You really think I’d want to disappear on you after life-dividing sex?” You smirk.

He smiles, kissing you till you lay back down, and follows after you. He settles alongside you, pushing aside the comforter and opting to pull the blanket from the bottom of the bed over you both. You wonder why until you realize the comforter is soaked with wet spots.

“I’m sorry about the, um… the mess,” You say, a bit of embarrassment painting your cheeks, “that’s never happened before.”

Pedro groans a little.

“Querida, you’re going to get me hard again,” he complains out the feeble warning with a little laugh. “I’m really the first person to make you do that?”

“Yes,” you reply as he wraps his arms around you. You place an arm and a leg over him, resting your head on his chest.

“I don’t think you understand how fucking hot it was,” he says, “I couldn’t care less about clean up. Now I know to put a towel down next time.”

Next time.

Your stomach does silly little butterfly flips.

“You were really good at… um… you know…”

You can feel Pedro beginning to laugh again.

“You are so sweet,” he says, “a minute ago you were begging for me to choke you, now you can’t even say it?”

“Okay, that was kinky me!” You explain, “She’s a whole different person. I don’t know her!”

“Oh I see,” He says in mock realization.

“But really, you were really good at it,” You continue, “You must have done that before.”

“Nope.”

“No way,” You reply incredulously, craning your neck to look up at him, “How did you know how to do it like that?!”

“I did some googling when I got home last night,” He says simply.

“You googled how to choke me?” You hold in your giggle.

“And phoned a friend,” he adds.

Now that piques your interest. You pick your head up to look at him fully.

“You phoned a friend?”

“It’s Hollywood, everyone is kinky!” He defends with a wry smile. “It was just a good friend of mine.”

Your mouth drops open as a name pops into your head.

“Oh my god, it was Oscar Isaac, wasn’t it?” You gasp quietly.

Pedro bites his cheek and fights a smile.

“You called Oscar Isaac and asked him how to choke me?!” You prodded.

Pedro can’t help a proud smirk and gives a nod.

“I mean, the bar is exceptionally low, but that’s one of the nicest things a man has ever done for me!”

“I think doing a little research to make sure you don’t hurt your partner is pretty bare minimum,” he scoffs.

“The bar,” you remind him, demonstrating with a flat hand in front of you, “Exceptionally low.”

“I’m just glad you enjoyed yourself,” he says as you place your head back down.

“Enjoyed is a bit of an understatement,” you reply quietly.

You nuzzle in as he adjusts the blanket back over your shoulder.

You reach your hand up blindly and find the side of his face.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He turns his head, pressing his cheek into your palm.

“You’re welcome, querida.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #fanfiction #the last of us #Joel miller

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