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[magnifiico]

How would Magnifico feel if he met another magic-user? Since magic appeared to be forbidden in the kingdom of Rosas (used by another other than him), does he view other magic-users with suspicion? How did he come to learn magic to begin with? Did he learn it purely for pragmatic reasons (i.e., it could serve as a useful tool to further his ambitions) or was there ever any sense of wonder?

@seaprofound || thank you for these great questions! :)

magnifico has a particular rule against magic users within his own kingdom because he wants to be the one sorcerer and therefore the one person his people can rely on (alongside amaya, of course; she handles most of the... diplomatic aspects while mags is over here messing around with magic like he's a kid playing with legos lbr). when it comes to magic-users in other kingdoms, he's not bothered; most of the time, he's intrigued and also cautious, but as long as he can manage an alliance with that kingdom... he doesn't fear them treading on his toes—

and hey, if they dare to tread on his toes...? he has that book of forbidden magic for a reason ;) we know he's not above using it :D shakes him shakes him shakes him shakes hi-

the learning of magic was definitely spurred by the devastation of his original kingdom (what @howthesleeplesswander and i named Primevère), but before that ever happened, mags has always been intrigued by it. y'see, the problem is that before reality punched him in the face and made him get his life together, he never had a real "drive" to push him to pursue anything earnestly. unfortunately, it took the passing of his family and the destruction of Primevère to wake him up (wake him up inside) and really get him to dig in and do something—which, as we all know, is dedicate himself wholly and completely to learning the thing he was... ehhhh... too lazy to commit to beforehand

as far as how he learned magic: all self-taught. lots of poring over tomes he found (both in libraries of neighboring kingdoms and in some fun ancient ruins he got to explore owo/), experimentation, and plenty of "wow i definitely almost just blew myself up there" moments. but he's done it! so it all ended up working out for him in the end, yeah? c:

[starlit-ripples]

Wait Jonathan how the hell are you here right now? Are you a vampire too or something?

"Believe me, I'm just as clueless as you are. All I remember is... dying, on that ship. And then I woke up, and I'm in the middle of a street in Naples. I was certainly quite the sight, still drenched in my own blood, in the suit I was wearing when I was... you know. Although the wounds I'd sustained were just... gone.

"Then there was the strangest pull on my birthmark, and it led me right to Giorno. He's been a great help at helping me adjust to the future. I don't know what I would have done without him.

"I do not think I am a vampire, at least... I've been wandering around in full daylight. I can still use Hamon. I don't feel any desire to consume blood. I don't know how or why I've been brought here, or how I have a son a hundred years into the future (or why he reminds me so much of Dio)... but it's a mystery I'm determined to solve."

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

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Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

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You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

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[0nerd-at-heart0]

The Case Continues

A/N: Thank you for ALL the love and support on my latest fic!!!! ♥ After not writing for a year it felt weird to write again but y'all have been so sweet, so truly thank you to all of you. I just finished 2 of midterms and there was this guy behind me on one of my tests coughing like crazy so now I am sick. While I should take this opportunity to study for the LSATS now that I am stuck in bed, I just had to continue writing. As long as you all continue reading I am more than happy to continue writing. If you want to be added or taken out of the taglist please DM me :) 

P.S. : I used the stars to break down the sections for myself as I wrote and kept them in, if they are weird or unhelpful let me know so I can get rid of them and as always feedback is always welcomed

Taglist: @happy74827 @princessvader15 @hashcakes @malfoys-demigod @yiiiikesmish

Word Count: 5.5 k

Warnings: sexual harassment, cursing, pet name like sweetheart, mentions of food and eating (any more warnings that I missed please let me know)

There will be a part 3 after this one, still writing it but if you haven’t please check out the Part 1:  The Stress of a Case

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As you finished the last bite of your meal in Rachel’s office, a comfortable silence settled between you and Harvey.  Harvey leaned back in his chair, and a sense of relief seemed to wash over his face, "You did well today, Y/N. We'll get through the Jackson case. I promise. Whatever it takes.”

You offered a small, appreciative smile, acknowledging the sentiment. "Thanks, Harvey. It means a lot."

You stared at the clock and the realization that it was time to head home crept in. Harvey, ever the gentleman, offered you a ride, “Come on, I’ll take you home.” He stood up moving the desk back to how he found it and picked up the trash. 

However, your need for control and familiarity after the recent panic attack made you decline the ride, "Thanks for the offer, Harvey, but I think I'll take my own car tonight."

A small, almost imperceptible frown flashed across Harvey's face, quickly replaced by his usual composed expression. "Alright." was all he could stammer out. 

After parting ways, you walked towards the parking lot, keys in hand. As you drove home alone, a subtle sense of curiosity lingered. What if you had accepted Harvey's offer? What could have unfolded in the confined space of his car, free from the walls of the office? 

The thought nagged at you as you navigated the familiar streets, feeling your head cooling off. Rolling down the window to allow the fresh air to overflow your senses  There was a part of you that wished you knew the answer, a desire to unravel the mysteries that lay hidden beneath the surface of your professional relationship with the Harvey Specter.

The next few days went by pretty fast. All days felt the same . It was a routine of restless nights as your mind was clear yet foggy on your night with Harvey. Nervous yet excited on what the following days would bring. You woke up early every day to go to your favorite coffee spot. But every day you spent it at your desk going through Amir related emails and one day you spent the day researching organic cat food for Louis. You haven't even had the chance to really see or talk to Harvey, not that you were keeping track ( 3 times he has spoken to you). 

But about 10 days after the incident, here you were, standing in the elevator, expecting to be another calm day of going through Amir’s associates emails with Rachel.

But when the elevators dinged,  the beautiful face of  Donna Paulsen appeared as the door opened.  She stood there waiting for you and without saying a word she turned on her heel and gestured for you to follow her. And like a loyal puppy you followed Donna through the corridors, her signature click-clacking heels echoing in the hallways as you tried to keep you.

As you walked, Donna’s voice boomed,  efficiently providing a rundown of the latest developments in the Amir Jackson case. Apparently, Amir had signed a contract with his brother-in-law’s firm, and Harvey was currently breaking it down in his office to find any potential weaknesses or loopholes. You were confused but eager to understand your role in all this, so you did your best to keep up with Donna's brisk pace. The details of the case were important, but the question of why Donna was sharing them with you lingered in the back of your mind.

Donna approached Harvey's office, she shot you a sly smile and motioned for you to enter. The door creaked open, revealing Harvey Specter engrossed in his work. Donna whispered, "You wanted to be in the big leagues; well, here you go."

Harvey was seated at his desk, a stack of papers spread out before him. Mike Ross was leaning against the wall, and both turned their attention to you as you entered.

Donna, standing in the doorway, mouthed, "You got this."

It dawned on you—this wasn't just an update on the case. Donna had orchestrated this moment for a reason. You were being given a seat at the table, an opportunity to contribute to a high-stakes strategy session. The realization sent a surge of adrenaline through your veins. Harvey was keeping his word after all. 

 Harvey and Mike acknowledged your presence, you straightened your posture and mentally prepared to engage in the battle of wits that lay ahead.  You are ready to keep up and prove your worth beyond your typing skills. 

Mike walks up to you handing you a file, and you take a seat. Knowing the breakdown you take out your colorful pack of highlighter ready to color coordinate. Purple for potential loopholes, yellow for things to research, blue for important dates and green for  contacts. 

Harvey couldn't help but notice you being meticulously organized. With a smirk, he quipped, "Really, Y/N? Color-coordinated highlighters? Are we in kindergarten?"

You, shot back with a playful smile, "Well, Harvey, some of us appreciate a little order and aesthetic appeal. It's called professionalism."

Harvey raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the quick retort. "Professionalism, huh? I prefer the classic black and white approach. Simple and effective."

You without looking up from your file said, "Well, Harvey, sometimes a splash of color can make things more interesting. Maybe you should try it sometime.” Reaching down to your highlighter bag you pulled one out handing it to him, “Here, I think pink suits you”

He takes it from your hand, not backing down, “You know if your legal skills were as efficient as your highlighting skills we would be done with these files already”

You retorted, “Well, Harvey, if your people skills were as smooth as your hair, we'd have won the case yesterday."

Mike, who had been silently working, looked up with a bewildered expression, unsure of how the banter had suddenly transformed into a flirtatious exchange. He blinked, processing the unexpected turn of events.

Harvey  leaned against the table and raised an eyebrow. "Smooth hair, huh? You're just jealous, Y/N."

"Oh, please," you replied with a smirk, "I've seen smoother hair on a mannequin."

Mike, now thoroughly confused, looked between Harvey and you, trying to decipher when this banter became a new development. 

Before anything can go any further there is a knock at Harvey’s door, it was Rachel. After hearing from Mike about your little fainting incident, she was kind of overbearingly persistent on making sure you were eating and were okay no matter how much you told her you were fine.  Despite your reassurances that the incident of passing out was a one-time occurrence and that you were doing better, Rachel continued to express her care in thoughtful ways.

Today was no exception. Rachel asked to borrow you for a moment. Excusing yourself from your work, you followed Rachel outside the office. She had a warm smile on her face and a bagel in her hand, with your name on it.

"Hey, I know you said you're doing better, but I thought you might need a little pick-me-up," Rachel said, offering you the bagel.

You couldn't help but smile at Rachel's thoughtful gesture. "Thanks, Rachel. You really don't have to keep doing this, but I appreciate it."

Rachel chuckled, "I know I don't have to, but I want to. Consider it my way of making sure you stay fueled and ready to tackle anything."

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While you were outside having that conversation with Rachel, Mike couldn't help but seize the opportunity for a little teasing. Looking at Harvey with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he remarked, "What was that?"

Harvey, ever the master of composure, shot Mike a sharp look. "Shut up and focus, Mike," he retorted, trying to divert attention back to the files.

Mike, undeterred by Harvey's attempt to change the subject, leaned back with a playful grin. "Oh, you're definitely focused on something," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Harvey rolled his eyes, realizing that he might have just opened himself up to a barrage of teasing from Mike. 

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You returned to the office with the bagel in hand, you tucked it away in your bag without giving it much thought. However, Harvey's raised eyebrow didn't go unnoticed. He questioned, "Aren't you going to eat that?"

Unbeknownst to you, the hesitation stemmed from a lingering unease about eating near files, especially in front of Harvey—thanks to the hot Cheeto incident. Harvey, catching on to your reluctance, decided to assertively intervene, "Eat."

You raised an eyebrow, teasing, "Bossy much, Harvey?"

Harvey quickly adds, “Well I am the boss”.

Mike, always quick to jump into the banter, chimed in, "Hey, wait a minute. Rachel didn't get me a bagel."

Harvey, in his usual deadpan manner, responded, "Deal with your relationship drama outside the office”

Mike mumbled to himself though directed at Harvey “you deal with your relationship drama outside the office” as he turned over to the next file. 

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Without hesitation you grabbed another file, opening it  up you saw on one of the clauses of the contract that it said,  “Keep an appropriate reputation”.

You spoke up, “Have we been able to contact his brother in law?”

“Louis is currently on that”, Harvey said nonchalantly.  

“Louis?!?!”, the shock in your voice was not hidden at all as your hand went to cover you mouth,

“See even she is shocked’’, Mike gestured towards you as he closed his file. 

“Mike you are  going to have a deposition with Amir in about an hour and I got to prep you. As much as I'd rather have you do it,” Harvey eyes quickly glance at you before returning to the file in his hand, “I don’t have time to walk you through it, plus Jessica said I have to throw Louis a bone”, Harvey mumbles the last bit. 

You nodded, understanding that you were too green to already start interviewing people without supervision. 

After an hour of underlining and highlighting things they may be able to use against him, Harvey dismissed you and Mike to prepare for meeting Amir. You gave Mike a questioning look as you exited the office.

The door closed and you could have sworn you heard music playing. 

“He has a whole routine when he has a stressful case”, Mike said as he handed Donna a piece of paper to fax. 

“Whoa, you are just going to share Harvey’s secrets like that”, Donna added. 

“She is part of the group now, she deserves, nay she needs to know”, Mike defensively argued

Donna playfully rolled her eyes and all you can do is laugh. 

“Imma go to the conference room and set everything up”, Mike then turned on his heels. 

“Why are you meeting with Amir?”, you couldn't help the question come out of your mouth.

“Jessica and Harvey believe he is trying to get in our heads”, Mike causally stated like this is somehow normal, “anyway see you afterwards”. 

You headed down to the bullpen with a couple of files in hand for you to review. The bullpen was empty, you saw a memo on your desk that Jessica was holding a mock trial for the associates. You believed she was doing this to boost morale. It's been 3 weeks since the Jackson case was first assigned and every day the stress of the case becomes more evident in not only the partners but everyone. 

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All that can be heard was the click-clack of your keyboard as you diligently worked on a memo at your cubicle in. A man walked it, he didn't go unnoticed as he leaned against the wall, a smirk playing on his face.

"Working hard or hardly working, sweetheart?" he said with a smug grin.

Startled by his words, you looked up to fully take in this strange man, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. 

"What can I do for you?", you let out an annoyed breath. 

He wasn't unattractive, tall, seemed to be built, his dark hair slicked back and his tan figure was highlighted with a beautifully tailored suit. 

He ignored your attempt to deflect his trashy pickup line  as he leaned in, invading your  personal space. "You know, I am here to see Mike Ross, but I would rather be seeing you. What do you say we grab a drink sometime?"

You noticed a wedding ring on his hand and that added to your discomfort which was palpable, and  you glanced around, searching for a way out of the situation. Amir Jackson was standing right before you in all his dirty lawyer glory. Before you could respond, the familiar sound of a door swinging opening  caught your attention. Harvey Specter stormed into view, his expression colder than the usual glacial demeanor he reserved. 

"Amir, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Harvey's tone was razor-sharp, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation.

Amir straightened up, his confident facade faltering in the face of Harvey's iciness. "Just trying to get to know the beautiful talent that sits before me" he replied, attempting to play it off.

Harvey's jaw clenched, and he stepped forward, his presence dominating the small cubicle. "This is not the time or the place for your personal agenda. We're here to work, not to entertain your attempts at charm.", emphasis on the word attempt. 

Amir chuckled nervously, realizing he had crossed a line. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble, Harvey. Just thought we could all use a break."

Harvey's stare could freeze time itself. "Save your charm for the courtroom, Amir. Now get lost before I decide to make this a legal matter."

Amir hastily retreated, leaving the cubicle, heading upstairs to interview Mike. 

As soon as he was out of earshot, Harvey's gaze softened ever so slightly as he turned to you. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, grateful for Harvey's intervention. "Thanks, Harvey. I didn't know how to get rid of him.” You left a pause before continuing, “Though he was cute”, it was your attempt to lightened the mood

But it seemed that you failed as you could have sworn that Harvey’s eyes darkened. 

“Don't tell me he is your type?” Harvey glares, trying to play it off as a playful intrigue. Though behind those words were sharp undertones of jealousy. 

Was your type arrogant lawyers? Oh god, you thought to yourself. 

“I mean if we are being honest”, you were already regretting the words coming of of your mouth, “I wouldn’t mind drinks with him, if you know he wasn't-”

“A dirty slimeball”, Harvey interrupted.

“I was going to say married but hey your  words not mine”, You shrugged as you smiled, tilting your head up to look at him. 

Like a switch any sign of a normal human being verison of Harvey goes back to a cold exterior Harvey ", Get back to work. We have a case to win."

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the silence. Louis Litt barged into the bullpen, a triumphant expression on his face. "I got it, I got it!" he declared, his voice echoing through the walls.

Harvey shot him a stern look. "What do you mean, Louis?"

Louis beamed, brimming with excitement. "I met with Amir’s brother in law and we have a plan"

"Louis, I don't like that look on your face. Well, actually, I don't like your face, period," Harvey retorted, his patience wearing thin but shot you a mischievous  look as you let out a small laugh. 

Just as Louis was about to unveil his plan, you received a text from Rachel, asking for assistance upstairs. Seizing the opportunity to excuse yourself , you made a quick exit, leaving Harvey to deal with Louis's eager revelation.

As you walked away, you overheard Louis saying, "Can I just tell you my plan?"

You missed Harvey's response that carried a tone of indifference, "Louis, I am a lawyer, not your babysitter. You don't need to run your ideas by me. Just do whatever it takes to win."

"Whatever it takes," Louis echoed, his enthusiasm undeterred as he practically skipped out of the room, eager to set his plan in motion. 

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The next day, as you were on your way to the copy room, Louis Litt beckoned you into his office. The air in the room felt different, an unusual tension hanging in the air. Louis, with a somewhat secretive smile, asked for your help with a deposition. He believed you were the perfect candidate to handle the client interview. He said he will be there to supervise it all. 

Despite the lingering suspicion about Louis's true intentions, you were eager to prove your skills and showcase your capabilities. With determination in your eyes, you took the file full of questions that Louis prepped for you into the conference room, ready to face the challenge. As you were coming round the conference room, Louis excused himself to the bathroom saying he was going to be right back and to start without him.

As you entered the room and set up the camera, you were met with the unexpected sight of Amir Jackson—the person you would be interviewing. Suppressing the internal alarm bells, you maintained a professional demeanor and focused on the task at hand.

"Good morning, Mr. Jackson. My name is Y/N, and I'll be conducting the deposition today. Please make yourself comfortable," you greeted, doing your best to project confidence.

Amir acknowledged you with a nod, “Oh trust me. I remember you.  I can't forget a face like that sweetheart”.

 You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this deposition than met the eye. As you pressed record on the camera, a pit forming in your stomach as you felt that you were part of a bigger scheme that Louis had formed. But you continued on. 

The questions came to an end and Louis was nowhere in sight. You think you did a good job but you really hoped you would have some help guiding you. You were reaching over to turn off the camera when Amir made his way around the table, invading your personal space as he placed his hand on your thigh.  You felt disgusting, but you gritted your teeth and tried to remove his hand. His grip just got tighter. 

“Mister Jackson, you are married and I am not interested so please let go”, you remained calm. 

"This isn't the first time I've given in to another woman's temptation," Amir whispered, his hand slowly making its way up higher. . The situation escalated, and you attempted to stand up, desperate to distance yourself from his unwarranted advances.

Just as the discomfort reached its peak, Louis Litt stepped into the room, 

 "We got you now, Amir," Louis declared, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Louis revealed  that the entire encounter had been captured on camera, since the little red button was still going and Louis left his dictaphone as well. There was enough proof of the man Amir really was

The revelation startled Amir, who looked like he was ready to erupt in anger at being caught.

But a last Amir stammered trying to get his words together. 

“I think you should make some calls”, Louis said, his smile not faltering. 

Amir, now furious, stormed off, leaving you alone in the aftermath of the orchestrated confrontation. 

Anger boiled within you. You were mad at Amir, you wished you had the strength to have slapped him or yelled at him but you froze, your mind was whirling running 100 mph before you can truly comprehend what was going on. Now that it was over you were a teapot full of steam. Ready to blow. The more you thought about it, the more your frustration became directed at  Louis. 

His dramatic reveal. His smirk. This was the plan all along and you were just his puppet. He knew this was going to happen, he wanted this to happen. 

"Why the hell did you put me in that situation?" you snapped, the intensity of your emotions evident.

Louis, unfazed, responded, "It was Harvey's idea. We had to win the case, and trust me this”, he gestured to you and the empty door, “ sealed the deal”

Your anger shifted, now directed at Harvey Specter, the architect of this manipulative plan. The lines between professional strategy and personal boundaries blurred, they have been blurring. But this, this felt like the lines were being drawn all over again, You took a deep breathe as you were left grappling with the aftermath of an uncomfortable encounter.

You stormed  out of the conference room.You were shaken and in desperate need of someone to confide in. As you walked down the hallway your bubbling emotions made every step a struggle. In your mind, the need to talk this out with Rachel outweighed any confrontation you might have had with Harvey.

Focused on reaching Rachel's office, you were determined to leave the unsettling incident behind. However, Mike Ross, perceptive as ever, intercepted your path, concern shown across his face.

"Hey, are you okay? What happened back there?" Mike inquired, his voice laced with genuine worry.

The overwhelming emotions made it difficult for you to articulate your feelings. When Mike reached out to grab your hand, hoping to offer some comfort, a reflexive flinch escaped you. The subtle gesture spoke volumes about the impact of the encounter.

"Don't ask like you don't know," you managed to utter, your tone heavy with frustration and disappointment.

Mike was left dumbfounded, his attempts to provide support met with an unexpected defensive response. As you stopped in your tracks, you turned to face him, meeting the bewilderment in his eyes.

"I was Louis’s bait but if this was Harvey's idea, lord knows you were right there beside him. Batman and freaking Robin," you added, the accusation hanging in the air.

Mike's expression shifted to curiosity as he raced down the hall to Harvey’s office, needing an explanation. What the hell did you do now Harvey, Mike thought to himself. 

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You sought refuge in Rachel's office. Rachel offered a comforting presence. You recounted the events, finding solace in Rachel's understanding.

"I can't believe he used you like that. I'm so angry on your behalf," Rachel said, her support unwavering.

As Rachel provided a comforting presence for you, on the other side of the office, Mike Ross stormed into Harvey's office, his frustration evident. Ready to give Harvey a piece of his mind for giving Louis the idea to use you as bait, Mike's accusatory words were poised on the tip of his tongue.

But Harvey, surprised by the accusation, defended himself. "What are you talking about, Mike? I didn't allow Louis to do anything."

Before Mike could continue, Harvey's tone softened. "How is she, Mike? Is she okay?"

Mike hesitated, admitting, "She's shaken up, Harvey."

Without sparing another second, Harvey stood up, determination etched on his face. "I need to find her."

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The atmosphere in Rachel's office was heavy as you sat there, still visibly shaken from the encounter with Amir Jackson. You found comfort in spinning your bracelet around your wrist.

Rachel, ever the empathetic friend, suggested a visit to the bakery you both loved, a subtle attempt to bring a touch of sweetness to the somber moment. As she left to fetch the cookies, you stayed seated at her desk chair, staring out of the window. 

Harvey stepped in to check on you. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken tension as you looked up, frustration written  across your face. You turned back to the window refusing to look at him. 

You couldn't hold back the surge of emotions that spilled out. "Fuck you"

You were always so poised, always so put together, Harvey couldnt and wouldnt lie that hearing your curse did something to him. But he scratched that out of his mind, returning to the matter at hand. 

Still taken aback by the force of your words,  he raised his hands defensively. "I had nothing to do with what Louis did. I wouldn't put you in that position."

But you weren't convinced. "Your motto is 'do whatever it takes to win,' right? I was just a pawn in your grand scheme of things. Last week, after the panic attack, I thought we were okay. I thought we were on good terms, but now I don't know what to believe."

Harvey's expression hardened as he tried to find the right words to reassure you. "You weren't a pawn, Y/N. I didn't know about Louis's plan, and I would never intentionally put you in a situation like that."

You scoffed, frustration and hurt evident in your voice. "Your actions speak louder than words, Harvey. I'm tired of being caught in the crossfire of your 'win at all costs' mentality.” 

Harvey, his usual composed demeanor faltering, tried to find the right words to reassure you. The weight of your accusations, was challenging the fragile trust that had started to rebuild between both of you. 

You continued to stare out of the window, refusing to meet Harvey's gaze. He could feel the tension escalating, and he knew he had to address the storm of emotions swirling within you.

"Look at me," Harvey said firmly, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere.

You clenched your jaw, still refusing to comply. Unfazed, Harvey moved closer and he bent down  a little so he would be eye level with you and with a gentle touch, guided your head to face him. His touch ignited the fuel of your emotions, whether it be rage or something else entirely. There was a fire burning within you. 

"I don't like to repeat myself," Harvey stated, his eyes locking onto yours.

You met his gaze, still angry, a tempest of emotions brewing within you. He could see the fire in your eyes and sensed the need for an outlet. "Yell at me," he urged, guiding you to stand up.

You were now facing Harvey, an arm's length between both of you. You took this oppurtunity, you took a deep breath as you let it all out. 

"You are insufferably arrogant and stubborn. You're like a shark in a corporate sea, ruthless and cold-hearted. You wield your charisma like a weapon, and everyone else is just a pawn in your game. You  bend the rules until they are ALMOST at a breaking point", you go off on a mini rant. 

Harvey, with a measured tone, responded, "I don't disagree. The fact that I haven't interrupted you should tell you I take pride in who I am. But one thing you didn’t say and one thing I would never do is hurt the people I care about. Maybe I would occasionally push Mike in front of a slow-moving car, but that's as far as I'd go." 

You stifle a small laugh, trying not to give Harvey any satisfaction. But you nodded at him showing that you believed him.

His hand rested on your shoulder as his eyes looked at you with concern. "How are you?" he emphasized.

You shrugged, voicing your discomfort. "I feel kinda disgusting right now."

Harvey's jaw tightened as anger flared in his eyes. "I'm gonna kill Louis," he declared, ready to retaliate.

As he turned to leave you grabbed his arm. "Don't hurt him," you pleaded, your voice holding a mix of anger and compassion. Despite the hurt you felt, you couldn't bear the thought of Louis facing physical harm.

Harvey paused, looking down at your hand on his arm. "I can't promise that I won't give him a piece of my mind, but I won't hurt him physically."

You nodded, acknowledging the compromise.

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The celebratory feeling filled the air in Jessica's office as Harvey stormed in, anger etched across his face. Louis and Jessica stood there, clinking glasses in celebration of what they believed was a triumph in the Amir Jackson case.

"Join us, Harvey! Louis found a way for us to win this case. It's finally over" Jessica exclaimed, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within Harvey.

Harvey's eyes narrowed as he observed Louis making himself small under the intensity of his gaze. Unable to contain his fury any longer, Harvey erupted, "Louis, you pretentious fucker! How dare you do that to her?"

Jessica, puzzled, looked between Harvey and Louis. "Harvey, what happened? Why are you so angry?"

Ignoring Jessica's inquiry, Harvey continued his tirade, directing his fury solely at Louis. "You used Y/N. You put her in a bad situation with Amir. That's a new low, even for you."

Jessica's confusion shifted to anger as she slammed her glass down. "What?"

Louis, feeling the heat of Harvey's wrath, defended himself, "You said to do whatever it takes to win."

" One, you know how I feel about cheating. And two, you know what yeah this is my fault. For half a second there, I thought you would be a lawyer, not try to pimp out my associate," Harvey placing particular emphasis on the word "my."

“Here's the deal," Louis began to explain his plan. "Amir's brother-in-law allowed him to join his firm under one condition: he behaves and doesn't cheat on his sister. Now, Amir signed his contract promising to behave because Amir’s brother in law has a list of evidence that could easily get him disbarred, but his brother-in-law promised not to expose him as long as he kept his promise."

Louis sighed as he continued, "Y/n was the bait, Harvey. She is one of the more attractive associates that Amir couldn't resist. So I  let the pawns fall where they should fall and we got it all on camera. Amir's brother in law is going to the association to get him disbarred as we speak. "

Jessica chimed in, "Louis, why couldn’t you let it so Y/N in on the plan.”

Louis nodded, ‘’ I didn't think it would be a big deal”

The room collectively groaned. 

"The only reason you don't have a broken nose right now is because she asked me not to hurt you...physically," Harvey declared, his rage simmering beneath the surface.

Jessica, ever the professional, butted in, “Harvey the case with Amir is over now, let me handle Louis” giving Louis a dirty glare before opening the door to her office moving Harvey out the door, “Tell everyone to go home for the night”. 

Harvey followed suit, leaving Louis to face the wrath of Jessica. As he closed the door he could hear Jesscia yell, “What were you thinking”

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Harvey's footsteps echoed through the hallway as he made his way to Rachel's office, seeking you out. Upon entering, he found you surrounded by Mike and Rachel, laughing at something as Mike shoved his face with cookies. The look on your face seemed lighter, you appeared more at ease.

Harvey addressed everyone in the room, "Alright, pack it up. Time to go home."

As he spoke, ​​his eyes lingered on you, and he added pointedly, "Especially you. Y/N.  No arguments this time, I am taking you home."

Your colleagues exchanged knowing glances, and Rachel and Mike gathered their things to leave. Harvey's directive made it clear that there was no room for negotiation this time; he was taking you home.

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The plush interior of Harvey's car surrounded you, and you couldn't help but feel a bit out of place in the luxurious vehicle. Harvey, however, seemed at ease as he turned to you and casually asked, "Put your location in the GPS."

You entered your apartment complex as the destination. The ride continued in relative quiet,

You were now three blocks away from your apartment complex, when Harvey abruptly took a sharp left. Confused, you turned to him with a puzzled expression, questioning his unexpected turn.

"Harvey, where the hell are you going?" you asked.

He glanced at you, a twinkle  in his eyes, and replied, "We both deserve to have some fun tonight."

You saw him pulling up to a bar, one that seemed too classy for you. You were too undressed for this. The doubt clouded your mind. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you couldn't help but ask, "A bar, Harvey, really?"

He looked over at you, the corner of his lips quirked up. "What do you say?" He was parked but hadn't turned off the engine, giving you an out.

You looked over at him and he had that stupid, handsome smug smirk on his.

Not wanting the "what ifs" to take over, you met his gaze and said, "I'm in."

[sluttysanemi]

hiii! can you write where gender neutral y/n comforting genya as he cried in their lap after everything he has been through. like genya bottling up his emotions until y/n does something similar to genya's deceased mother and he just tears up as genya tries to pretend he's fine, but failed when y/n reassured him that it's okay to cry after their mission together. I hope you're doing well and take good care of yourself 💕

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GENYA SHINAZUGAWA

a/n: hi angel!! thank u sm 4 ur kind words, I hope you're in good health too!!

c/w: ass attempts at angst, comfort, lazy ending, genya misses his ma:((

Something was bothering Genya.

Following the conclusion of your mission, the two of you walk alongside one another. Genya seemed faraway, and there lingered an apprehensive quiet. The tension in the air is tangible, almost uncomfortable.

Traditionally, he wasn't so aloof; you pondered what might be bothering him. You make attempts to converse, yet he barely answers, his responses curt and distracted.

You decide not to push it any further and await until he's ready to speak out, holding faith in the strength of your partnership.

However, as time passed, he only seemed to progressively worsen. He appeared to lack vibrancy and was continuously fidgeting. The creases of worry on his face grew wider, his once firm hands quivered slightly. As though under an immense load, his gaze was clouded and distant.

In a bid to brighten him, you propose to accompany him to a noodle bar. You propose the idea with a bright smile, reminding him of the warm, comforting bowls of noodles you used to relish after an exhausting mission. You hoped that the familiar atmosphere and good cuisine would bring him out of his troubled state, if only for a little while. 

–

As you sat alongside him and ate, he dined at a slower, sloppier pace. He appeared indifferent in the food in front of him, a couple of the noodles clung to his cheek. A vacant look to his eyes as he mechanically chewed his food, every bite seemingly forced. 

You find the image humorous and slightly perturbing. Picking the supplied napkin, you tenderly lay it to his cheek. Lightly patting the skin, wiping any residue with a gentle touch, hoping to bring a bit of normalcy to the moment.

However, upon cleansing, you discover Genya in a state of vulnerability. His eyes, now clearer, gleamed with unshed tears. His lower lip quiver subtly, on the verge of fracturing. His façade of indifference split, revealing the raw anguish beneath.  

He hastily lowered his head, ashamed by his own emotions. However, you had already observed his exposed state. 

You swiftly lean in, out of alarm.

“Genya?! Wh- What’s wrong?”, you murmur, your hand lingering to his shoulder.

His gaze flickers to your expression momentarily, his words hitched in his throat. An expression of hesitance. He swallows dryly, attempting to find the words.

“I– I’m fine.. It’s just…”, Genya pauses, exhaling shakily.

His stare is unreadable. The solitary between you expands. The ambient sounds of the noodle bar fade into the background, replaced by the weight of unspoken words and unshared burdens. You encourage him once more. 

“It’s alright, Genya. You can talk to me- I’m here to listen.”

He doesn't reply immediately, merely laying his head to your shoulder as you embrace him. He seeks solace in your grasp. 

“...My ma used to touch me like that. She- She had these gentle palms, ‘n they were warm. Always.”

His voice cracks, as he hicks, attempting to gather his breath. 

“I miss ‘er. I miss her smile. ‘N my siblings too.”, he croaks, his fingers grasping tightly to your garments. “I want them back. More than anythin’. I– I just want my family.”

You tenderly caress his back as you listen to his declares. Your heart crested with sorrow for the dreary boy. Life is cruel to the innocent, and the pain etched in his features reflected the harsh reality he faced. 

You wished you could have done more, to shield him from the suffering that now seemed to consume him. The helplessness you felt was a bitter pill to swallow, and you vowed silently to support him through what lay ahead, hoping that your presence would provide some fragile consolation in his time of need.

However, Through his immense anguish and mangled words, he mumbled a tender statement. His voice a fragile whisper.

“..I’m really glad you’re here. You’re..”, he swallows anxiously. His gaze softens as he reflects. “..You’re all I needed.”

You nod slowly, acknowledging his fragility. The weight of his words rests on you, forming an unspoken connection.

“..Yeah. We got each other. Always.”, Your tone tender and reassuring. The serenity reflecting the depth of your devotion.

Regardless of the circumstance, you'd face it together.

[hey-august]

A Favor for the Captain - Chapter 1 | NSFW (Buggy x afab!reader)

Description: You expected to spend night duty alone, but your captain decides to keep you company. Together you enjoy some light hearted conversation and silly jokes, before Buggy asks for an unexpected, but not unwelcome, favor. Word count: Just under 2.5k A/N: This is probably just going to be 2 chapters. I have the next chapter outlined, so hopefully it'll be ready to post soon. Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x afab!reader, no use of Y/N, dry humping, bad jokes, pathetic and embarrassed buggy because he's bad at communicating. All parties are consenting adults.

→ Chapter 2

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“Make good choices!” you called out to your crewmates as they streamed off the ship and into the night. It had been ages since any of you had free time and most of the crew chose to spend it in town, savoring goods and experiences that were sparse out at sea. Fresh food, endless alcohol, and sex with people you didn’t work with.

You, on the other hand, were stuck on the ship. Your freedom was clipped short when you were put on night guard duty. Someone had to mind the ship at night and it fell to the new recruit who didn’t know they should lie about already having plans. Secretly, you didn’t mind. There was supposed to be a meteor shower soon and this gave you an excuse to look for the shooting stars.

The dark and quiet night draped over the ship, a heavy blanket that muffled the soft crashes of sea. A soft breeze danced through the palm trees on the shore, moving them in time with the echoes of music and laughter that drifted from town. You were laid out on the deck, positioned to search the sky. Each pinprick of light was still in place, almost mocking you for remaining on the ship and not exploring elsewhere. As if you had a choice. 

Lost in thought and drifting among the constellations, you missed the sound of footsteps approaching your solo viewing party. They moved in time with the sound of waves, a natural ability from someone bound to the sea. Eventually you realized that the feeling of being watched wasn’t pouring from the watchful moon and stars, but from a presence nearby.

Your captain broke into a grin at the sight of your panicked double-take. The first look expressed confusion and the second carried fear. Neither were emotions that were foreign to him, the pirate clown has seen both directed at him many times before. But watching your head whip around to confirm it was the captain and the way your eyes widened was downright comical. 

Before you could scramble to your feet, Buggy crouched next to you. You sat up and surveyed his face, trying to assess how absolutely fucked you were. Honestly, it was hard to read anything past the fake smile painted on his face, but he looked more bemused than pissed. This could work in your favor.

“So…guard duty?” Buggy broke the silence first.

You cringed, unsure how to answer. How could you convince the captain you were on duty when you didn’t even hear him walk over? The guy wears heavy boots. On the plus side, he wasn’t wearing his coat full of knives, bombs, and other superfluous noise makers. Even still, that wasn’t enough of an excuse.

“What were you even looking at?” he questioned, each word emphasized by his mischievous smile.

“The stars,” you answered, glancing back up at the silent audience. At the edge of your vision, you saw Buggy also turn towards the sky. “There are supposed to be shooting stars, but I haven’t seen any.”

“Ever?” He turned his attention back to you. The question caught you off-guard and you shook your head.

“Damn, if I had the right prop I could make your night.” Buggy could see the gears turning in your head, producing a complete lack of understanding. He sighed disappointedly and mimed shooting at the sky before gesturing at himself. “Shooting…star…” It was so obvious.

You groaned and covered your face, not sure if your laughter was because it was actually a good joke, or because Buggy delivered the gag like it was. Satisfied with your response, Buggy joined you in sitting on the wooden floor and looked back at the sky.

Massaging the rest of the laughter out of your cheeks, you turned towards your captain. “Have you ever seen one? A real shooting star?”

“Countless times. They’re really a sight to see…the stars know how to put on a show.” 

In the corner of his eye, Buggy saw you nod as he spoke, noting how you gazed at him a moment longer than usual. Normally the attention would make Buggy feel self-conscious, but the air between you two felt comfortable. It always did. Not that you two interacted much, but he picked up on your calm composure, even when he was wreaking havoc on the crew. Even now, as you eased yourself back into lying on the floor, you exuded a sense of peace. Moving naturally, as if you were hanging out with a close friend and not your boss. Maybe this was all conjured by the loneliness in his head. Still, Buggy indulged in the atmosphere. He joined you in spreading out on the floor for a better view of the sky and there you both lay, under boundless celestial nightlights. 

“Do you know the names of the constellations?” you questioned, putting a pause to the relaxed silence you were sharing.

Buggy nodded and started rattling off celestial names while a disembodied gloved hand floated overhead, pointing out each group of stars. After the first few, he started adding in a few made up constellations.

“Big Richie, it’s a magnificent, fearsome, circus lion.” “The Big Top Tent! See how it encompasses everything?” “Oh, this is my favorite, the Genius Jester Hat! It-”

The last one was cut off when your chuckles exploded into full-fledged laughter, satisfying the clown. “Alright, alright, I get it,” you choked out and elbowed his arm.

Buggy summoned his hand back, suddenly, hyper aware of how close you two were. Shoulders touching slightly after your giggle-fest. Hands a breadth apart. Fingers so close they could touch if he simply reached out. Heat grew in the places close to you, as if you were setting him on fire. 

You weren't aware, but you were doing it again. Consuming his mind, his attention. The way you always watched him - observed, really - interested Buggy. Occupying areas of his mind until there were days where he could only think of you. Think of ways to get your eyes on him. Your attention focused on him. Your laugh creating music for his ears. Your smile. Your lips.

There were also nights where the thoughts of you flooded his mind. At first he’d ignore them, believing it was a passing fancy. But they wouldn’t leave him alone. Every glimpse of you kept the tantalizing visions buoyant. Any shred of attention you gave him added to the relentless waves in his head, until he succumbed. He’d let the swell of endless thoughts and images consume his body until he was left shuddering and gasping your name in the dark. And now, that familiar tempest was brewing inside the pirate.

Buggy pulled his knees up, hoping the position would hide the bulge growing in his pants. Sure, he could leave, but he felt greedy. He wanted more. He wanted to stay close to you. To listen to your breathing. Feel the heat of your body…

“Captain?” Your voice snapped him back into the moment. He hummed an acknowledgement.

“I hope this isn’t too forward, but I’ve been wondering why you always wear gloves.” You nudged your hand against his, skin against fabric.

“Why? It’s part of my schtick. My role as a performing artist,” Buggy boasted.

“Mmm, part of your costume?”

“Exactly.” Buggy was pleased that you understood, but your next question tested that warm feeling.

“Are you performing now? Is this a bit?”

Buggy stayed silent. He held up his gloved hands, thinking about how to answer. To be honest, he wasn’t sure himself. It didn’t feel like a bit or a performance. There was something genuine here.

You watched as Buggy pulled off his gloves and set them down. So that was his answer. Seeing his bare hands felt surprisingly intimate. His nails were painted. Thankfully the dark night hid the blush overtaking your face. You copied Buggy and held out your hands. The two of you mimicking each other, palms raised to the sky as if waiting to collect the stars themselves.

Buggy reached over to grab one of your hands, remarking at how small it is compared to his. Other than the tell-tale calluses that all pirates have, his skin was soft. You liked how his grasp enveloped your hand. It was gentle. Cautious. Buggy liked how your hand felt in his. Warm and accepting.

Something was caught in the pirate’s throat. Words he knew he shouldn’t say, but would cause him to explode if he kept them contained. Buggy swallowed the nerves that threatened to shake his voice.

“I need you to do me a favor.” 

“Yes, Captain?”

Fuck. Even though Buggy has heard those words from you many times before, this time it sounded different. Better.

“Get on top of me.”

You turned your head to see if you heard him right. Before you could ask and confirm, his detached hands were tugging and nudging you to move. Your body felt clumsy. It was in disbelief, trying to catch up to the thoughts running through your mind and the demanding hands maneuvering it into place. Nervous and confused, you straddled Buggy - trying very hard not to sit on him - and looked down. This was something you imagined before, but it was not how you expected it to go. Although Buggy avoided looking at you, choosing to scowl at a random area on the deck instead, the hands holding your hips told you that this is what he asked for

“Cap-”

“Don’t say anything. J-just…just do me this favor.” 

He saw you nod in the corner of his eye. He finally relaxed his legs, laying them back down. The hold on your hips tightened and Buggy pressed you down, wanting you to truly be on top of him. You weren’t prepared for the hard object beneath you or for it to press back when you made contact. You jumped in surprise but Buggy kept you in place. Finally, he looked at you. His eyebrows were pulled into a frown and his jaw was tight. As expressive as the pirate clown was normally, this was one expression you couldn’t decipher. There was the usual frustration, but also embarrassment - or was it fear? - and want.

You let his hands ease you back down on to the erection trapped in his pants, sighing as it sat snuggly against you. Buggy’s hands kneaded your hips as he hissed at the feeling. While his grasp was gentle when he held your hand, the way he squeezed your body was not the same. He clung to you as if you were the last match in a dark room. Something he desperately needed. Something that would grant all his wishes.

Buggy’s cock felt so hard that it was almost painful just sitting on it. When his hands began to pressure your hips back and forth, you welcomed the movement and rocked in time with his hold. Whenever he throbbed against your body, you returned the gesture by pressing into him more. You knew Buggy enjoyed that sensation by how he groaned and moved underneath you in ecstasy. It was mesmerizing and you wanted more. Leaning forwards, you placed your hands on Buggy’s chest and angled your hips so that you could grind yourself against his entire length. 

The unexpected pressure eased a low moan from the pirate. His eyes had been fluttering but now they opened wide to watch you. Fucking beautiful. That’s all Buggy could think at the moment. Your head was tilted back in bliss while little moans and whimpers slipped from your mouth. The way you worked your body on his, driving your hips against his cock, was far better than any meteor shower. Buggy felt himself get closer to the edge thinking about how your cunt was so close. Only a few measley layers of fabric kept him from ramming himself into your wet heat and fucking you until you saw stars.

You noticed that his cock was becoming needier by the moment, throbbing and twitching below you. Rolling your hips, you rubbed your clit against his hardness. The sensation rocked through your body, a terrible side effect of the delicious feeling which left you weak. Eager to chase the climax that was close, you wanted to ask your captain for help. Before you could get a full word out, your head was pulled backwards. A disembodied hand was entangled in your hair, drawing you into an arch. The change in position left your mouth open, but the tension prevented you from saying anything more. Unable to keep pressure on your clit, you felt the climax ebb away.

“S-shhhh, n-not a word,” Buggy groaned. 

He knew he took advantage of his position as your captain and couldn’t bear to think about what you might say while he was exerting that power. It was cowardly and pathetic, but he was too far gone.

Although Buggy still had one hand on your hip, he started bucking against you. His movements were forceful and sloppy. When Buggy gasped and his hips stuttered, you knew that he reached his end. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to imagine the lewd face he must be making. What his cock looked like releasing each stream of jizz. How it would feel in your cunt. Or in your mouth. What his cum tastes like.

Once Buggy stilled underneath you, he finally loosened his grip on your hair. Breathlessly, you looked at the flushed, panting, pirate before you. As the heat from Buggy’s climax dissipated and the load in his pants began to cool and clump together, he felt ashamed and sick of himself. He could barely look you in the eyes again. Giving into his cowardice, Buggy tried to ease you off of him before resorting to his devil fruit ability when he couldn’t quickly detangle your bodies.

“Wai-”

“Thanks.” Buggy spoke over you, still afraid to hear what you might say. What you might regret. He awkwardly picked his gloves off the floor before leaving, opting to have his feet walk away while the rest of his body floated. He already felt like shit and feeling the cold globs of sadness in his pants rub against him wouldn’t help.

And that’s where you finished the rest of your guard duty that night. It gave you plenty of time to think about what happened and analyze. And overthink. And overanalyze. That was an awful way to leave someone after using them like some sort of fuck toy. But…there was a part of you that liked it. He clearly wanted you. Or part of you. And you found that exciting.

Based on how Buggy practically fled the scene, you weren’t sure how things would be tomorrow. Still you couldn't help but think about what could have happened if you spoke up. What you wish happened instead.

[m4dm4yhem]

Can you do a fic where miles g aka miles 42 got mad at the black reader for ignoring him as a prank?

˗ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗ - BOREDOM

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૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

pair: m.morales x black! fem! reader

summary: [name] hasn’t always been the brightest when it comes to deciding which pranks she should pull on her boyfriend, but after this.. she definitely learned.

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

_________________________________________________. ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗ [NAME] FELT THAT THE FEELING OF BOREDOM…

was similar to that of a sickness, the teenaged girl thought it might’ve a silent death as well, as boredom can kill or injure many things and many people depending on the actions you taking during those feelings.. friendships, reputation, and sometimes even relationships.. and [name] learned that the hard way..

————————————————————————————

our story takes places on a wednesday morning, [name] was sitting in her second period class, legs crossed, and her head resting on the palm of her right hand while her left hand scrolled through tiktok, where she discovered some sort of ‘ trend ‘ where you ignore your boyfriend for an entire day and then talk to him like nothing happened…

she knew deep down that this was a bad idea, but the urge for anything to entertain her was stronger than her logically side, the girl favorited the video, making a mental note as she continued to scroll down her ‘ for you page’, just as she passed the video her boyfriend, miles texted her

miles 💗: hi mi vida

miles 💗: was wondering if you wanted to go out

miles 💗: like on a date

miles 💗: if no, thats coo. ima swing by regardless

perfect.

it was like this opportunity was given to her on a silver plate, egging her to do it.. like the little devil on her shoulder was whispering in her ear..

“ do it..”

“ it’s just a prank..”

“ do it.”

temptation ate away at her for five straight minutes, before she caved.. she tapped on the notification, it taking her to her messaging app, she started key smashing, to make it look like she was typing on his side of things, before she stopped, deleting it and then exiting out of the messages app.

the response came nearly as soon as she did that.

miles 💗: ???

miles 💗: girl can you answer the question?

read: 11:32am

typing . . .

miles 💗: [name] you getting me real fucked up rn.

miles was the type to get mad first before his logically side kicked in, where he’d rack his brain for everything he’d ever done that may have upset the people around him, so when the next array of messages came and he was apologizing.. [name] wasn’t surprised

miles 💗: mami what I do?

miles 💗: did I upset you?

miles 💗: im sorry if I did, ion mean to make you mad

miles 💗: r u mad cus I said your forehead was mad big?

miles 💗: mami you know I was joking

miles 💗: mami please talk to me

miles 💗: im sorry

miles 💗: I’ll leave you alone.

miles 💗: I love you <3

those set of messages made [name]’s skin crawl with guilt, but she left those messages on read as well. miles didn’t text her back again for a minute, as the hours went by she’d see tiny glimpses of him and he’d glance her way, but she’d turn around and walk the other way before he could come talk to her.

the third time she did this, miles didn’t let her go this easily, he was determined to figure out what was wrong with his girl, he needed to know. what did he do to fuck up this bad?

“ ma .” his tone was soft as he jogged to her side.. no amount of time doing missions as the prowler made it so he could have the stamina to walk by a woman who didn’t want to talk to him.. those women could win the olympics by just walking.. “ what I do? can you please tell me? ion wanna go home with you angry at me and I don’t even know what the problem was..” his voice was barely above a whisper, and he seemed genuinely upset with the fact he was getting ignored by his girlfriend

this was it.. the guilt was eating away at her, she turned to look at him, seeing his eyes were glossy, like he was about to start crying. “ c’mon… mi vida, I can’t lose you.. just speak to me, tell me what I did.” he had a harsh frown on his face as his pace slowed down once [name]’s did, she couldn’t keep up this stupid thing she saw on tiktok anymore, her boyfriend was too sweet and too much of an over thinker when it came to this.

“ nothing.”

“ mami.. don’t say that, just tell me-“

“ no, miles.. im being deadass.. I was just.. bored.”

miles’ look of worry he once had, was now placed with a look of anger and disbelief, he blinked a few times.. holding back the tears he almost let spill at the thought of losing the woman he loves

“ what you mean you was bored?”

if this was anyone else he would’ve said something a little more vulgar.. but his momma raised him better than that.

“ you mean you was playin’ in my face? making me think I did sum to you..?”

hearing her actions broken down to what they truly were made [name] wince before she nodded her head; his dark eyes looking down at her shoes, she heard her boyfriend suck his teeth and mumble about how stupid that was.

“ ‘m sorry, miles.” she gave an awkward shrug of her shoulders as she looked back at him, her eyes showing just how much guilt she had been harboring deep inside her ever since she ignored the first message

“ wow.”

that was all he had to say, as he sniffed, his soft sniff seemed to catch [name]’s attention.. god, he was about to cry? miles was always crazy about her, and always making sure they was good.. remembering all of this only made her hurt squeeze with remorse.

“ so..you was just playing with my feelings.. cause you was bored.. do you know how much that affected me? i thought you was gon’ break up wit me, [name]!” his words were like razors in her heart as she listened to him spill out his frustrations

“ …bro. that shit won’t cool, what the hell.. you had me thinking shit was bad, yo..” miles shook his head, he narrowed his eyes at his girlfriend, who had her arms around her body, who was staring down at the ground.. and who’s lashes were getting wet with tears

“ ‘m sorry.”

her voice cracked as she spoke, and she blinked.

the tear ran down her face, it was big and fat as she looked at him for a moment, their eyes meeting and his softening in nearly an instant

“ mami…” he let out a sigh, one of frustration mixed with anger

“ that prank wasn’t.. cool or nothing.. I’m mad right now. so ima chill off you for a minute, this don’t mean we breaking up.. we just…on a break.. not one of those ones which is an excuse to cheat.. im your man and you my girl, but I need like.. a break to reset, I’m mad right now.. don’t mean ima be mad forever, okay?

even though she hurt him, he was still willing to put his feelings aside.. for her..

god why did she do this stupid prank, her heart was in her stomach, and her whole body hurt.. but she nodded

“ okay..”

she owed him this little bit of space, it wasn’t gonna be forever

[delirium1217]

crystal clear

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“It’s just… not my type of scene, that’s all,”

“Your brother’s engagement party is not your type of scene?”

“Is that really surprising?”

“I guess not,”

The conversation fizzled out, as if it had any fighting chance anyway. Regulus kept staring at tiny details to keep himself steady. The lines in the brick wall in front of him. The way the wind blew away his cigarette smoke.

It’d been too overwhelming inside, filled to the brim with people he hadn’t seen in years. Hungry eyes filled with questions and inquisitions. The shimmering hue that came over everything. Like he’d wound up in an overexposed photo, flaring white and red and orange all over the dance floor.

“Look,” James started back up again. He didn’t even have the excuse of smoking to keep talking to him, “I know things have been - awkward between you and well, everyone, since uhm, uh, it all. And I don’t know if you’re here to reconnec-”

“I’m not here to make amends, James,”

That seemed to catch him off guard. Regulus wondered if James wasn’t used to him being this blunt. Ah, well. Too many things have changed for this not to change too.

He took a deep breath, “That’s fine. I just wanted to say, we all appreciate you being here,” he paused for a second. “Sirius. Even though he has odd ways of showing it, he’s glad you’re here. Remus, too, his whole ‘don’t ruin his day’ speech is just nervous jitters,” his hands were flailing along his words, like he was trying to mime them out.

Regulus looked down at the floor, fragments of silver confetti were taking the shape of real constellations over his shoes. Clever little bit of magic.

He didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t blame them for how they acted. Sirius - initial anger followed by weird sentimentality. Remus, all confrontation and ragged edges. He knew what they all went through. He knew all the betrayal that had left them this fragile.

He wasn’t here to ‘reconnect’. If he was, he’d be doing a piss-poor job at it. Was that something he wanted? He didn’t even consider it. Reconnect, and what then?

“It’s just – did you really have to crash in at 10 am after three years of refusing contact?”

It wasn’t an unfair question. Still, it prodded at something in his chest. Something that pulsated and smouldered. He instantly felt the urge to seize up, and push away. It disturbed him how easy it was crawling back into his old skin. The viscera automatically reworking itself into the shape it had once been.

This, he told himself, this is why he left. This place dragged the worst out of him.

If James was expecting an answer, he didn’t show it, leaning back on the brick wall beside him. As if the question was a mere suggestion, something to consider. He’d think it patronizing if it were anyone else.

He looked over at him. White shirt crumpled, sleeves pushed up, tie dishevelled and wonky. The hazy sheen the evening held seemed to swell as he looked at James. As if the stars had fallen and framed his face in their wake.

It was still there, he slowly realized. The tug of want. He felt his hands ache. The incessant urge to touch and feel. He’d tried so badly to bury it. It was still there, sticking its ugly head out of the sand.

Stilltherestilltherestillthere.

An awkward blob of emotion and pheromones and terrible circumstances. He couldn’t look anymore.

“I-” he heard himself start, as if he had no control over his own tongue.

“I’m not supposed to be here. The letter with the portkey was on my dresser. And I couldn’t-“He took a deep sigh, eyes flickering across the floor, “I couldn’t bear to fail him today too,”

The words hung between them. James didn’t react, only nodding slightly. He got the impression he was being treated like a skittish animal. Maybe he was.

“I get that,”

He turned his head towards him, eyebrow raised. “No you don’t,”

“Okay, maybe I don’t,”

A smile tugged on Regulus’ lips. James hadn’t changed a bit. Ever the empathetic, even when it made zero sense.

“Hey, I got you to drop the frown!”

He instantly went back to frowning again. This promptly led to James laughing, in a way that sent Regulus careening years back.

“Thank Merlin I haven’t lost the ability to do that,” James went on.

Snapshots flickered through his head. Himself, a miserable little thing, observing from across hallways and classrooms and Quidditch fields. He wanted to hate him so badly, the boy who’d stolen his brother. He never stood a chance.

The end was there as well. That year was nothing but an open wound in his mind, a festering, rotting tunnel of memories he tip-toed around. But James was there. The only person who could get anything resembling a smile out of him. The stars above the astronomy tower, brighter and brighter as winter turned into summer. Prefect rounds and silly little bickering. They were the only things he’d allowed himself to revisit.

There were so many things left unsaid. So many things Regulus abandoned when he took the Mark. That last night – the one where he pushed James away flashed across his mind. He’d taken whatever fragile relationship they’d had, and he smashed it to the ground.

They hung between them, too.

“I, uhm. I think I owe you an apology,”

James looked at him. Wide dark eyes that he knew shone startling hazel under the sunlight. It was unfair, this effect he still had on him. Turning Regulus into something soft and fragile and vulnerable, even after all this time. He thought he’d left it all behind.

“Yeah?”

“The way I left things, it wasn’t right. I don’t want it stand between us,”

“I thought you weren’t here to make amends?” The wink that followed made Regulus’ heart perform a disgustingly loud percussion routine.

“Yeah well. Some things you just can’t avoid,”

“Ah. And I’m one of those things?”

Yes. All the miles I put between us were useless. Yes. I can’t help but want to crash into you.

“No. I just can’t go back and have another thing I fucked up haunting me,”

James was suddenly somber again, as if he just remembered the grim details of everything that went down.

“Alright, that’s fair. Well, no need to apologize, after all that you did,”

This was wrong. Something was off. He was lying, all this faux tranquility was for show.

He didn’t care how long it’d been since he last saw him, James had never not demanded more. More explanation. More words and whys and hows. It was one of the reasons he’d left things so untouched in his sixth year. James Potter would’ve tore down his defenses one by one, till he had none left.

He narrowed his eyes at him. It'd gotten cold outside, or maybe the alcohol warming him had dissipated. The noise from the party inside winding down. The cigarette butts littering the coarse ground.

It was tremendously uncomfortable, yet James had stayed for about twenty minutes, while Regulus smoked, talked and…for what?

“What is this really about, James? Why are you out here?”

“I- you just looked so upset and-“

“Plenty of depressed people at a wedding,”

“Engagement,” James corrected

“Whatever, same difference,”

“It very much is not when I’m the one who planned it all,”

“You planned all of this?”

“Uh, yeah. Why did you think I froze when you showed up? Estranged younger siblings really do throw a wrench into whatever party you have planned, y’know,”

He did not think about why James froze up, because he was too busy staring at Sirius, who looked like he could kill him, “I could imagine,”

The thought of James frantically planning an engagement party was a bit absurd, like something from those muggle comedies his roommates liked to watch. Despite the mood he’d developed, the urge to laugh filled his chest. The mental image of James, his hair more of a bird’s nest than usual, turning red over the wrong type of flowers or cake was incredible.

He supposed it did make sense, James was so close to both Sirius and Remus. Of course, he’d know exactly what they’d want.

That explained all the off-beat magic and tidbits of mischief he’d seen today. Those confetti constellation charms. Whatever the dance floor had that pushed people together. The ribbon streamers flying in between dull conversations, asking people questions. The empty glasses you could mutter whatever you wanted into. It was all so well-crafted. It made him ache.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was a ghost floating through.

“Uh, speaking of the wedding. I’m planning that, too. Obviously. As if they could hire someone better than me. But, uh, uhm.” He took a deep breath, like he was readying himself to jump off a cliff, “I kind of told them you’d stay till the wedding,”

At first, he thought he’d misheard. “You-what?”

“Told them you’d stay till the wedding?” He hesitantly said, “Sirius was such a mess, he couldn’t deal with the fact that you were leaving afterwards and I just- I panicked,”

He stayed quiet for a second, his mind slowly processing what he’d heard. When he did, he got the sudden urge to cry.

“I just- no. That’s-“Regulus found himself fumbling. He’d left this. He’d left this all behind, he couldn’t do this again. “No. No, I’m not coming back,”

“But-“

Sadness burned into anger, a whiplash of emotions that suddenly grounded him, he moved forward off the wall and fully faced James.

“You want to know why I left, James? This is why I left!” Regulus spat out, the harsh words contrasting with all the goddamned harmony everyone was in. All the joy and exuberant youth they were bathed in. He could choke on it. “You don’t get to decide what I do, not you, not the Order, not my family, not any megalomaniac with a death-wish, okay? No one, no one but me!” The rasp in his throat caught him off guard. This – he couldn’t not have control, not after all he’d been through.

“What about the people you left behind?”

He found himself inching closer, staring into James’ eyes. “I do not owe anyone a fucking thing, Potter.”

“No.” James’ voice hardened. There. Regulus thought with sick satisfaction, there was the anger he’d so badly craved. James looked beautiful, face twisted with contempt. The anger Regulus deserved. “No. You don’t get to say that. Not after, not after what you did. Everyone was - I was fucked up for months after you left!” He paused.

“No idea of where you were or what you were doing. And then months go by - and you’ve turned sides but still refused to talk to any of us. How dare you?” 

They both stopped after that, chests rising and falling with labored breath. Grey met brown. James swallowed, Regulus’ eyes flickered down to the movement.

And that’s all it took.

It wasn’t gentle, the way the crashed into each other – how could it be? All sharp angles, teeth, and digging nails. Things said and unsaid fell to the wayside. James’ hands grabbed his temples and dragged him inward. His own hand pushed at James’ tie, twisting it around his wrist and pulling in.

It was the farthest thing away from the chaste little touches they’d shared, a lifetime ago, fumbling through newfound confusion and attraction.

This was frustration and despair and regret poured into one. James tilted his head, beckoning Regulus closer. His hands let go of the tie, slamming him into the wall. The groan the came from James’ mouth lit something inside himself aflame. All he could do was push himself further. Closer, closer, closer.

James pushed himself off. Gasping for air. Regulus’ skin burned with all the lost warmth.

His face was vehement in the dull yellow light. Glasses pushed off, lost somewhere in their collision. His lips a violent red – slightly parted. Hair pulled into tufts, sticking out. All the anger that reverberated between them had cooled down into something feverish and restrained.

None of it mattered – the regrets and who’d left and who’d stayed. Not during a war. They were both wrong for bringing this up.  

They fell into silence, shaky breaths, and piercing stares. Regulus felt his skin prickle with anxiety. His mind out of sync with his heart, he didn’t know what to think.

“I just needed to do that – at least once, if you meant it – leaving,” James muttered, words coming out in desperate breaths, eyes tracing his face.

“James, I can’t be here. Not like how you want. It hurts too much,” his voice came out pleading, a hoarse little thing.

James’ hand reached out, tucking Regulus’ hair behind his ear, the gentle touch a vivid contrast to all the desperate touches that preceded it. The urge to cry came back up again.

“That’s- it’s fine. I’m – I’m sorry I said what I did. I think I said it for my sake as much as it was for Sirius’, I thought about you – this, so many times. Even before you left, I didn’t care, I would’ve still been there,” his voice twisted with guilt at that last part, like he was confessing to a heinous crime. In Regulus’ eyes, he might as well have. He wasn’t proud of what he did – those last few months of war, hearing James say this sent a thrill of fear through his heart.

He would’ve destroyed him. He would’ve wrecked him to pieces.

He didn’t want to think about that anymore. It threatened to throw him off-balance. He looked over at James.

“I – I still want,” Regulus swallowed the rising sense of panic in his chest, he cleared his throat “I still want to be here. I just, I can’t be thrown in full throttle like today. You can’t expect me to just fold to whatever you want. But I still want to be here – when these things happen,” it was true, but he only realized it as he said it.

He still wanted the contact. The string to his past. He just couldn’t handle too much of it.

James laughed, a bright little noise that caught him off guard, “So like. Holidays and weddings? God, Regulus you are so – is that what we just had a full on screaming match about? You want to be a normal person living abroad and visit family on special occasions? I thought you wanted to disappear off the face of the earth and never be seen again,”

Regulus’ face burned with embarrassment – James was right, Regulus had blown up over the mere suggestion that someone would be in control of his life again. His therapist was going to have a field day with that one.

“You were the one that said I’d stay till the wedding,”

“Yeah, which is in twenty days?”

“Oh,” Regulus hadn’t thought about that. He should’ve realized – even after the war ended, people weren’t really keen on delaying weddings.

“Yeah, oh. What – you thought I’d keep you here for a year or something?”

Yes, that’s exactly what he thought. “No.”

James laughed again. Regulus wanted to memorize every second of it.

“Y’know it wasn’t really just a screaming match,” Regulus found himself muttering. They were still both so close. Face to face. The air had stilled around them.

“No it wasn’t,” James’ voice dropped low, his eyes finding Regulus’.

When they leaned in again, it felt inevitable.

Warmth filtered across his skin. James’ fingers gripped onto his hair, strong and unrelenting. His weight against Regulus’ own a welcome comfort. He could get lost in this. He could spend all his days here.

James broke away, yet again. Regulus felt like the rug was pulled out from under him.  

“Listen, could we… talk about what we’re doing here?”

“I – what do you mean?” he felt dazed from the lost contact.

“This,” James gestured to the space between them.

“Um, I mean,” Regulus cleared his throat. “We can figure out a portkey system? I can’t give you any promises, I just. I’m barely holding on most days, but I can – for this, I mean, unless you just want something casual, which is fine. I guess. I shouldn’t have assumed. Yeah, that’d be-”

“Reg, you idiot,”

Oh. He should’ve realized, was this just a one off thing? Had he completely misread the situation?

“Has anything about us ever been casual?”

“No. I guess not.” He found himself laughing, none of it was particularly funny, it was just – relief. Weird, the difference a few hours could make in someone’s life.

James started laughing too. Seemingly, only because Regulus was. He linked their hands together.

“And Regulus?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time we have an argument, we really should do more than angrily make out about it,”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, maybe once in a while,”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

if you enjoyed reading, consider dropping a kudos or a comment on my ao3! it helps a lot to motivate me! thank you<3

ao3 link

[dumplingsfordays]

hi! read your thighlover! gepard hcs and was wondering if you could do a fic where he just. snuggles his head between reader's thighs after a stressful day? maybe slightly suggestive bc of flirting but thats optional

— 🧷

stressful days to peaceful afternoons

pairing - gepard x gn!reader

genre - fluff

cw!: slightly suggestive, gepard's a little touch-starved

note - you guys are killing me w these reqs like these are so good???? also this turned out to be super short so I'm sorry 😭😭 tysm though 🧷 nonnie <33 ily and have an amazing day/night!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"Geppie! Oh my gosh, I missed you so much!" you exclaim as you open the front door to greet your lover. He smiles tiredly in return, leaning in to kiss you on the forehead and making his way inside. You explain everything that you've been up to these past few days while he was gone as he removed his coat and boots - some guests came over, you helped out at the library, the plants that he was growing are doing... better, but you always returned to the fact that you were so happy that he was finally home.

Gepard is also very, very happy to see you, and also very relieved; however, those days that he'd spent rigorously training his soldiers left him with a constant headache throughout the time he'd spent there and on the way back home. He longed for peace, for warmth (the snowfields were very cold at this time of year), and he has you. Specifically, your thighs.

When he asked in that low, mumbling voice of his if you could lend him your thighs, you immediately agree with a chuckle.

"Of course, Geppie," you say, "You're always free to."

You guide him to the bedroom, where he finally plops down onto the bed and you scoot up to him. Wordlessly, Gepard wraps his hands around your waist and buries his head right between your thighs. He mumbles something, but fully relaxes when you thread your fingers through his hair and pet him gently.

"For a second I thought that you were aiming at something else," you giggle lightly, and you feel his chest shake as he laughs for a brief second before settling down.

He mumbles again, but this time it's a little clearer.

"If you want me to, I can."

Cheeks reddening, you give him a small, playful slap on the shoulder and you really can't help but grin.

In all honesty, though, you love moments like these. Calm, sweet, warm moments with your boyfriend were something that you wouldn't trade anything for. It did seem a little selfish to only let him go away for longer periods of time to come home and wear your thighs as his favorite earmuffs, but he obviously enjoyed it too, so it was kinda worth it.

After a moment of silence, Gepard mutters into your warm thighs.

"Do you have the rest of the day off?"

You think for a second before answering. "No, I don't think so."

"Can I stay like this for the whole day then?"

You laugh again and reach down to massage his broad shoulders and upper back.

"Definitely not stopping you, but you should eat dinner."

"Can my dinner be you?" he flirts in return, and you have half a mind to slap his shoulder once more.

[rweoutofthewoods]

𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Storyteller, that “Angst with a Happy Ending” girl.

✩ She/her ✩ 22 ✩ Jewish ✩ aftg ✩ marauders

𖤓 LINKS 𖤓

-Asks and Answers: #mere answering things ;)

-Disclaimer on triggering fics -Rules, permissions, and FAQs regarding my fics -Rules for podfics and translations -Sideblog for casual posting: @mereinthewoods

WIPS

★ Every Omen in the Valley

╰┈➤ WIP | Jegulus. Soulmate AU, Sports/college AU. Enemies to friends with benefits to lovers. (Updates every other Friday, give or take) On hiatus until December.

★ Tennesee Baby

╰┈➤ WIP | student x teacher. Regulus is an amateur writer hungry for more and James is his teacher.

★ Saltwater & Cigarettes

╰┈➤ WIP | Jegulus. Fake dating, summer holiday, enemies to lovers. Loosely inspired by Anyone but You.

★ prey

╰┈➤ WIP | Jegulus. a/b/o, canon divergent, horcrux hunting. Regulus is Harry's parent and survives the cave.

COMPLETED

★ anti-hero

╰┈➤ 237k words | jegulus (side wolfstar). Canon divergence. Regulus lives.

★ pathological people pleaser:

╰┈➤ 114k words | BPD James, James/Jegulus centric but multi-character and ship focused.

★ god bless america

╰┈➤ 84k words | Jegulus, wolfstar. Southern AU. childhood friends to lovers to exes to lovers AU. Set in the south in 2005 because I’m nostalgic.

★ Youngblood

╰┈➤ 75k words | Jegulus. The juvie AU. James and Regulus meet in juvie. They meet again nine years later and the past comes back to bite them.

★ antithesis

╰┈➤ 68k words | jegulus (band au!!)

★ Worst Case Kid

╰┈➤ 42k words | Jegulus, age gap. The tolerate it AU.

★Antipathy

╰┈➤ 36k words | cheating fic. Relationship study of toxic relationships and infidelity.

★ don’t call me kid (don’t call me baby)

╰┈➤ 18k words | Jegulus... infidelity, the folklore love triangle AU.

★ 27 club

╰┈➤ 27k words | Jegulus, MCD: loosely inspired by Nirvana, 1990s band AU

★ Noble

╰┈➤ 9k words | Lilycissa, Jegulus. Canon compliant but if lilycissa and jegulus were canon.

ONESHOTS

★slow endings

╰┈➤ 6k words | Jegulus. Canon compliant, Harry's POV. Harry finds out about jegulus through letters after the second war.

★castles crumbling

╰┈➤ 11k words | Jegulus. Exploring their relationship in Hogwarts, James saves Regulus from the cave.

★bad idea right?

╰┈➤ 6.5k words | Jegulus. James and Regulus are broken up but they're dumb and have sex.

★I’ll stare directly at the sun

╰┈➤ 3k words | Jegulus. A small return to the anti-hero universe.

★you don't love me in a way I understand

╰┈➤ 3k words | Jegulus, inspired by Wishbone by Richard Siken

SOCIALS

find me elsewhere on…

★ AO3

★ TikTok

★ Pinterest

★ Spotify

FAQ

What's your update schedule?

╰┈➤ I update my main project every Friday, everything else happens as god intends it.

Can I dm you/come chat?

╰┈➤ OF COURSE. My dms are always open, pls feel free to come talk.

How do you write so much?

╰┈➤ Short answer, mental illness. Long answer, a lot of commitment, practice and obsession. If you're interested in my writing process here's the writing-related asks #mere's writing asks and answers and you can feel free to shoot me specific questions.

Can I send you fic requests?

╰┈➤ Yes you may, but I cannot promise I'll manage to write them! HOWEVER, I'd love to try or work specific things into fics if you want them.

PLAYLISTS

★ anti-hero

★ ppp

★ god bless america

★ Worst Case Kid

[magnifiico]

"Yer highny-ness! Uhm sure ya gotta lotta stories to share 'bout how ya wooed Queen Amah-ya! When did ya know she was THE ONE, br--" This hopeless romantic of a girl would stop herself, just in time. With a pop of her palm to her lips, her eyes were wide, almost as if she had startled herself when doing so. But soon enough, she would set that hand back down, and corrects herself, "When did ya know she was THE ONE, yer majes-ticky-ness?"

@yukikorogashi || incoherent scReechiNG at the cutie T~T and ofc tagging @howthesleeplesswander ;)

“When did I know?” He repeats the girl's words in the shallows of a laugh: equally amused by the curiosity as he is by Itsuki's quick correction to her vernacular. In the pacifying shake of his head, King Magnifico communicates quietly that she need not worry—no offense taken or held against her—and his gaze wanders elsewhere to dedicate real thought to the inquiry. “Well, that's one way to put a man on the spot, now isn't it—?” he hums, casting her a playful and fleeting glance.

Nevertheless, compliantly—or maybe it has a little more to do with the king's willingness to enthuse about this particular woman—he comes to some semblance of a response.

“Oh, I wouldn't claim there was ever a single moment—more an accumulation of all the wonderous things Queen Amaya is—but... one evening does come to mind,” Magnifico expounds. “I was deep in the throes of research, back in a time where I was still trying to get any sort of footing in magic; I'd spent the entire day poring over book after book, testing spells, failing many of them... Amaya had been away herself, busy lending a hand to our fellow, ah...” Hesitation clunks in his words, matched by the slightest flutter of his eyelids. He settles with a quiet, “Th-those in need.” Like us.

And then he's off again.

“Well, she had a busy day. I had a busy day. And yet, despite all that, she came in to see me having a few... difficulties in my studies, and you know what she did?” He emits a scoff, like it's so ridiculous a thing for anyone to do—so selfless and unrealistically compassionate. “She drops everything to help me. She's exhausted, and she still spends the next several hours flipping through numerous spell books, sitting there at my side to give me suggestions—even just to keep me company.

“I thought to myself 'There is no one in the world luckier than me right now.' To have the attention and care of a woman like her? And who knows?” The king shrugs. “Could be in that moment, whether I realized it or not at the time, I decided I wasn't going to take that luck for granted. To this day, I would find it hard to forgive myself if I ever did.”

[starlit-ripples]

Talk about your son, specifically Giorno. Say some thing you hate about him, and something you love about him!

"Hate is a strong word, Anonymous. I don't think I could hate anything about my dear son. He is a very compassionate, intelligent young man who cares very much for his friends, and the people of Italy. He aims to keep the city safe, and while his methods of doing so may be unorthodox, and I worry very much for his safety, his heart is in the right place, and more importantly, he knows what he's doing. The city could not be in safer hands. I am so proud of him.

(Besides, I'd be a hypocrite to condemn him when I'm best friends with a gang leader who runs the most dangerous street in London. And who knows what else. I'm a little afraid to ask him sometimes.)

"Giorno enjoys gardening too, did you know? I've spent some time with him today tending to the garden he set up just outside of Passione. There's so much he knows about plants! I've learnt so much from him. We're also thinking of setting up a pond for frogs."

The young man hesitated slightly, looking like he wanted to say more. Finally, the impulse won out.

"...well... there is one thing about Giorno that I do take issue with... his sleep schedule is horrendous! And he's still a growing boy... I remember Erina telling me that it's important to sleep eight hours a day - he doesn't even sleep half of that! And he- well, he forgets to eat at times. He isn't taking very good care of himself as he should be. It's almost like... he thinks he does not deserve it. I may need to stage an intervention someday."

[rinainshadows]

𝔞𝔫 𝔢𝔫𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔬𝔫 𝟑𝕯 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

"ℑ 𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔢, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝟑𝕯 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔢𝔰."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

TLDR: Manifestation bridges the 4D and 3D realms, where all desires are already fulfilled in the 4D. Your task is to choose your desires, and trust the 3D will align to bring them to you, though it may take time. Be patient and trust that the 3D will manifest your desires in its own way. You need only to know that your desire is already yours and avoid stressing over how it will appear. Affirmations are unnecessary if you truly believe. Focus on trusting yourself and allowing the process to unfold naturally.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

Manifestation serves as a bridge, as it were, between the 4D and the 3D realms. In the 4D, all things have already transpired; one merely chooses one's desires from it. The 3D, however, operates under different principles, sometimes requiring time for one's manifestations to materialize. This delay does not negate the truth of your desires. One's task is simply to decide what is desired, and the 3D will align accordingly. Patience with the 3D is paramount. The passage of days, weeks, or even months does not diminish the reality of your manifestation. Mountains will, quite literally, move, and reality itself will shift to bring your desires to fruition. Trust in this process and in the creative collaboration between your 4D self and the 3D realm.

The manner in which it manifests is not your concern. Though you may exercise the power to dictate its manifestation, why burden yourself when your subconscious knows precisely how to bring your desires into reality? Why limit the arrival of your desires to a singular outcome when there are infinite possibilities, and your subconscious will select the most suitable one? This is the essence of letting go. It does not mean relinquishing your desire or the aspiration to experience it in the 3D. After all, the purpose of manifesting is to experience one's desires and the intensity of your longing is a testament to the truth that you are meant to experience it.

Concern yourself not with how it will materialize in your life. Your sole responsibility is to acknowledge that your desire is already yours. Affirmations serve merely as reminders and, in truth, are unnecessary if you truly believe your desire is fulfilled. Reflect upon your affirmations. Do you repeat them incessantly out of a sense of desperation, as though you lack your desire? This was once my predicament. Certainly it is possible to be conditioned thus: there are infinite methods of manifestation, and I shall not claim any to be ineffective. If you believe your desire is already yours, it matters not how vehemently you assert it.

Instead, I encourage to adopt a more discerning approach. Meditate and introspect. What do you genuinely believe? What inhibits your progress? For me, seeking validation in the 3D caused wavering. I did not trust myself. Trust yourself. Allow the 3D to take its course. That is all that remains after creating something so perfect. Do not rush it, do not doubt it. Silence your doubts. Cease seeking answers. This is the appropriate moment for affirmation: when doubts or uncertainties, spurred by your ego, arise. You are not these doubts; you are divine.

Happy manifesting,

ℜ𝔦𝔫𝔞

I am well aware that this may be a regurgitation of information frequently reiterated, yet I wish to present my own perspective and have it duly recorded for my personal encouragement and motivation.

[sunkissedpup]

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ . ࣪☾⭑ ┊ ┊ ┊ . ⋆ ۫ ┊ ┊ . ★.˚ ┊ . ˚☆ ࣪⊹ ˖ִ𑁤 Welcome to Boy’s profile .ᐟ ִֶָ ༘⋆

🧃⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ This is my safe space, please read the info about me and be respectful ☀️

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚          ✧. ┊          ⋆ ★

INFO : Collective name : Boy ノ Milo 𓆦 he/they/bug ⭐️ 2 - 8 | Audhd + osdd 🧩 1(6) teenie .ᐟ 𓆑 healing through agere + petre.. ⋆.˚⚘⭒ Puppyboy 🐶🐾

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

SPINS :: Stuffed animals , Animals , Steven Universe , Warrior cats + Cartoons

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Extra info .ᐟ osdd system, individual headmates who regress will be using this blog // will be separated by emoji sign offs ^^

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ TAGS

— Reblogs / posts by our headmate Pow Pow : // Mouser 🐭

— Reblogs / posts by our headmate Blitzø : // Blitzy boy 🦴

— Reblogs / posts by our headmate Maverick : // little pup🩸

— Reblogs / posts by our headmate Toms : // Sunshine 🌻

— Reblogs / posts by the host, Jax : // boy hours 🍂

— Reblogs / posts by our headmate Ellie : // teeny dino 🦖

— Posts by no one / the collective : // scribbles 🖍️

— Favorites : // on the fridge 🎨

— Vents : // sad hours 🌧️

— Asks : // mailbox 💌

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One more thing! If you have an ask you want to send to someone specific, please say who exactly you want to answer ! 🐛🪲

[hey-august]

250 event!

"Snack" (spicy 👀) with "This is nice"

Ngl Buggy is the tastiest of snacks.

-rorywritesjunk

I had so much fun with this ⭐🩷 even though Buggy wasn't the secret snack in the end This also came in at a good moment so I could tie it into another story from this event, so tyty Rory!!

Prompts: Snack (spicy), "This is nice." Teaser: "You could smell the pirate’s pungent grassy gamey breath as he leaned in for a kiss. Tilting your head, you accepted the greasy affection on your cheek before dusting away the crumbs." Warnings: SFW. Established relationship, Buggy x GN!reader, buggy's a goon, don't crunch hard candies. Word count: ~600

Check out my 250 Follower Prompt Event and see fulfilled prompts here.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“You want a snack?” 

“What is it?” Buggy asked, eyeing the small bag in your hand.

“Dried fruit. It’s good.” You shook the bag. “They’re spicy.”

That’s all Buggy really needed to hear. He snatched the whole bag from you. A handful of food was shoved in his mouth while a hum of appreciation slipped out.

Somehow, you always knew what he was craving.

Mornings where the sun woke up long before the ship’s captain were the days where a plate of food waited for him next to the bed. Biscuits waiting to be smothered in jam and butter, slightly undercooked fatty bacon, and fried eggs topped with hot sauce. Just as Buggy was shoveling an amalgamate breakfast sandwich in his crumb-coated mouth, you’d show up with a steaming cup of coffee.

Afternoons full of paperwork and imprisonment at his desk were rewarded with little candies that you always had on hand. Mints that cleared his nose and made his eyes water, sweets that stained his tongue ridiculous colors, sour suckers that he treated as challenges to withstand, and - his favorite - cinnamon candies that burned his tongue.

When he collapsed in bed after a long day, you were there with something crunchy. You always said it was just something to share that you picked up at port to share, but the greedy pirate usually ate far more than half.

“This is nice,” Buggy said with a mouthful of mush. They were salty, cheesy, a little oniony, and supremely delicious. “Thanks, doll.”

You could smell the pirate’s pungent grassy gamey breath as he leaned in for a kiss. Tilting your head, you accepted the greasy affection on your cheek before dusting away the crumbs.

“Don’t wipe that away,” he grumbled, leaning in to replace his thanks.

---

One day you offered Buggy a cinnamon candy for no reason. It appeared from nowhere, all for him. He popped the treat in his mouth and rolled it around, letting it clatter against his teeth.

“‘ow cohm yu alwaysh hahh shnax?”

You stared at him, waiting for the jumble of syllables to fall into place. It was taking a while.

Buggy repeated his question and pointed towards his mouth.

“Oh, how come I always have snacks,” you repeated, trying to buy time before answering the question.

Buggy crunched into the cinnamon ball with a loud crack. “Do you have another?” he asked inbetween ferocious chomps.

“You’re going to crack a tooth if you keep doing that.” Despite the chiding, you pulled another from your pocket.

Buggy winked at your remark. Well, you thought it was the remark until you felt a jostle in your pocket and Buggy’s hand returned to the pirate.

“You’ve been holding out on me! Your captain!” 

“Hey, no! Give that back!”

Buggy raised the bag of candies out of your reach, distracting you from the other hand that went to rummage in a different pocket. This one joined its companion, holding up the bag of crackers it found. They were the spicy cheesy flavor that Buggy had been asking for lately.

“Oh, I like these ones. What else are you keeping from me?”

“For you, ya goon. Give them back before you eat them all.” You tried and failed at retrieving the snacks.

“Don’t call your captain a goon,” Buggy retorted. His floating hands fumbled with the bags and he popped another cinnamon candy in his mouth.

Buggy didn’t return the treats, but it was no problem. You let him learn a lesson from the hot cinnamon that burned the top layer of his tongue off. He also endured subsequent reminders from his beloved spicy treats that further irritated his swollen tongue.

The pirate was bound to find out that you carried snacks around for him, in addition to hiding them around the ship. You paid attention to what Buggy liked and would purchase treats for him.

And it was all worth it to see him light up with eyes full of stars and smiles full of happiness and half-chewed food.

[glorixuspurpose]

Set Up

Yuji Itadori x black!fem!reader 

A/N: yk I had to write for my glorious cutie patootie king😇(also i barely remember this episode so it might be a little fanon)

Synopsis: After Yuko reappears after middle school, asking about Yuji, reader questions her feelings for him(it’s really the other way around but I wrote the synopsis b4 actually writing it😭)

CW: not much, just reader and yuji being idiots, slight description of reader being tall

Word Count: 513

 “L/N!” You heard as you and Nobara were walking side by side. 

You turned to see a rather tall girl with brown hair. She towered over Nobara, but you and her were almost the same height.

“Uh..who are you?” You asked. 

“It’s me! Ozawa! If you couldn’t tell, I’ve changed a lot since middle school…” She sheepishly told you, making your jaw drop. 

 “Middle school wasn’t that long ago! You look..so different! But also amazing, so..” 

“Was that Itadori you two were just talking to?” 

You and Nobara shared a glance before turning back to her. “Yeah, why?” Nobara answered.

                                   ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

 “This was me at graduation last year…” Yuko said, showing the picture to Nobara who gasped. 

“Wow! How’d you change so fast?” She asked, and Yuko laughed lightly. 

“Coming to Tokyo, I was met with a lot of pressure…” She told you two as the three of you sat down in a booth, you and Nobara sitting across from her. 

“But I saw Itadori just now so…maybe I have a chance now!” She finished. 

 “Yuko…you don’t mean…that, do you?” Nobara whispered.

“Yes, I mean that! You don’t happen to..like him, right?” Yuko asked.

“No.” Both you and Nobara said at the same time, a stone cold expression on both of your faces.

You immediately pulled out your phone to call Ijichi, asking for him to drop off Megumi. 

 “What do you want?” He asked.

“Does Itadori have a girlfriend?” Yuko asked him. 

“Wait, you don’t mean that, right?” He whispered to you two. 

“Yes, we mean that!” 

Megumi sighed and sat down next to you, practically making a reverse oreo.

 “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend.” He said, eyeing you. 

“Really? Do you happen to know his type?”

“He likes tall girls.” He told her, and her face lit up.

“You have a chance!” Nobara told her, as she urged you to take out your phone to text Yuji. 

Y/N<3

Come

Y/N<3 

COME!!!!

Yuji💕

Why??

Y/N

Just do it lil nga

Yuji💕

Okay😭 

Yuji💕

Where are u??

Y/N

Don’t make me tell u again mf

 “Fushigiro’s here too?” Yuji asked, holding a bag. 

“That was quick..” You muttered.

“We haven't told Itadori about Yuko yet…” Nobara whispered in your ear. “He totally won’t recognize her!”

“Itadori! She’s–”

 “Oh, Ozawa’s here…”

“He remembered..” The three of you said collectively. 

“Um..I wanted to ask you something…” Yuko shyly said as you and Nobara vigorously nodded, encouraging her.

“Would you…wanna take a walk with me?” She blurted out. 

“Oh, uh..sure!”

                                  ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

 “So…?” Nobara asked Yuji as the four went back to school.

“What?” He replied. 

“Did she ask you out or what?”

“Oh, she did but–” 

“But?!” “I told her I liked someone else.”

 “What?! Who?” You asked excitedly. 

He only just smiled at you in response, before walking away. 

“Don’t leave me hanging! Who?!” You asked, out of breath, due to catching up to him.

“You, idiot.” He said, before kissing your cheek, leaving you dumbfounded.