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“Reject All” cookie consent update
On 9 August 2023, the UK Information Commissioner’s Office (ICO) and the UK Competition & Markets Authority (CMA) jointly published a position paper on harmful design practices in digital markets, particularly focusing on cookie consent banners. The paper clarifies the ICO’s stance on the “Reject All” button in these banners. Key points from the paper include: Equal Ease for Consent Choices:…
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#CMA regulations#consent choices#cookie banners#cookie consent#cookie policy#data protection laws#digital markets#digital platform compliance#fair consent mechanisms#GDPR compliance#harmful design practices#ICO guidance#non-essential cookies#nudge techniques#PECR compliance#Privacy and Electronic Communications Regulations#Reject All button#reject all cookies#sludge techniques#transparent consent#UK GDPR Article 4(11)#UK GDPR Article 5(1)(a)#user privacy rights
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☆ from gold, i am undone
{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, implied self harm, implied suicide attempts {☆} word count 0.9k
You weren't meant to be here.
You can feel it in the marrow of your bones– it weighs you down like heavy shackles, gold bleeding from your pores until it is all you know. The taste of ichor on your tongue, the warmth of its invasion beneath your skin, that gleam of gold that lingers in the color of your eyes like specks of dust.
You are changed, and you are whole.
But you are so unbearably broken.
A shattered piece of porcelain hastily put back together with gold to fill the cracks.
Decoration, in the end, for you are not fit to walk as "mortals" do. This gold had filled every empty crevice of your body, spilled the red into your frantic hands and made you bleed so it's callous gold could make room inside your body. It has taken from you many things, given many more, but you scratch and bite and tear until it drips onto the floor and even then it never leaves. It stains the floor no matter how hard you scrub– a permanent reminder of the sickening gold that molds you into something that used to look like you– that does look like you. Desecrated, yet so horribly divine.
All you see is a monster.
Something new, something old.
A hollowed out shell, wounds left to rot and fester until you suited the image of the Creator they bore upon statues and murals, the Creator worshiped in prayers spoken in hushed whispers and joyous chants praising your magnificence.
But what magnificence is there in detachment? What joy is there to be found in carving a God out of a human? They kneel like lambs before the shepherd, but the flock has made you– and you want to unmake them. Unweave the tapestry of their being stitch by stitch until it all falls apart and the world knows the cost of casting molten gold into the shape of a human, knows the price that has been left unpaid.
You want to take it from them. Watch them squabble and pray, blind sheep stepping into the wolf's open maw– to tear the seams of their being until the world is unwound by your heavy hands.
But you know it will not satisfy you.
Nothing does anymore.
You are no wolf. Only the shepherd who guides.
And with every drop of blood spilled, they ripped the humanity from your very bones until your body was the cast in which they made something anew– something gold, something horrific. A monster as much a God, a beast as much a man.
There is nothing left but absolute authority.
You try again and again to mend this act of desecration, to peel back the outer shell and rend the gold from your marrow– but your body cannot, will not, die. It mends itself back into place no matter how damaged, and all you feel is the uncomfortable tug of your body forcing itself to live. You cannot die, but were you ever truly alive at all?
Yet with every cycle, you know only one constant besides the thrum of golden ichor in your veins– cold.
Ice that burns, ice that spreads and festers and devours. Claws that pull you apart until the gold runs thick, teeth that burrow into your bones and rip it out from the source..eyes that witness the fall of a God with reverence– hungering, all consuming reverence.
You welcome it.
It is the first time you felt pain since you were cast into an image of a being you were not meant to be. The sting of cold upon your skin makes you shiver, your body tries to reject it, but you want to welcome it– for a brief moment that lasts only as long as it takes for you to blink, you see the glint of something familiar in the reflection of her empty eyes. Something achingly, horribly familiar– something human, all the more terrifying for it.
Even when Teyvat itself crumples like paper beneath the weight of her sins – of this desecration anew, this wretched heresy – you allow her hands to do it again. You grasp her hands in yours like chains, willing her to shackle you, willing her to pull you apart and make you whole again. To break you until the gold cannot put you back together again.
You long, each time, for those eyes like spears that lodge into your skin– burrow deep and sting deeper, making gold flow like water. You long for the biting tongue, the cutting words and those teeth like weapons– long to see the spite and anger and impure disgust aimed at the woman of silver who leads you down a hall that ends only in damnation. You follow each time like the lamb led astray by the wolf, but you do not wail in betrayal when she sinks her teeth into your throat and devours you whole.
For is it a sin if you welcome it? Has their God sinned, in the eyes of the flock, for welcoming such heresy with open arms? For allowing the wolf into their home?
Is it a sin to be broken beneath the only hands that have loved you?
Is it a sin to want to love, too, those hands and teeth stained in gold?
Then you shall be damned, you swear it. Damned, but gold no more.
For death is the closest you have ever felt to being human.
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#fic tag#tsaritsa#genshin cult au#genshin impact cult au#tsaritsa x reader#this is. technically not a sequel but not a prequel but a secret third thing (mental health crisis)#kidding i just wanted 2 write the prev fic from more reader oriented pov bc it wasnt fucked up enough!!!!!#i need fucked up reader who is irreparably changed in horrifying ways!!!!!! and they cant die bc teyvat kinda needs them 2 uh#exist at all. and if u die well thats it. hits reset button#the horrifying fate of a mortal forced to be a god against their will and all the drawbacks that come with it#where is love to be found when they all cannot see themselves as anything but beneath you? there will always be imbalance#oh they try. they claw and scramble and beg but being the creator has changed you.#none of their worship. none of their sacrifices and gifts and pleas make you feel a thing and what a haunting thing it must be#do they reject it? delude themselves into thinking that they must try harder?#or do they accept that this is a god? absolute. horrifying in its entirety. something that even the archons cannot truly understand#a manmade god who seeks absolution in only the most heretical. the most blasphemous#literally shaking chewing on the bars of my cage LET ME OUT#i love deep dives like this sorry 2 everyone i made think i was normal my bad#i just think immortality and godhood r funky concepts and i love making them WORSE#also this took so long because i was playing b@Idurs g@t3 3 erm. censored so it doesnt show up in tags PLEASE DONT SHOW UP IN TAGS#taking i need the tsaritsa to bite me to a whole new entirely worse level!!#i just think (starts talking for 5 hours straight and doesnt Shut Up)#this one is also. considerably more openly fucked up then the other fic. even if its hidden behind flowery language uh. take it seriously.#okay im done no more angst its fluff from here on out i need 2 be NORMAL. i am a normal well functioning adult. maybe.
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preferred it when websites didnt tell me they were stealing all my data cookies now we have to deal with the nonstop onslaught the nonslaught of websites crying and peeing begging to let them steal our fucking cookies. just so desperate its embarrassing. go back to doing that shit quietstyle and leave me in peace and quite.
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#the used#evanesance#all time low#billy talent#all american rejects#pins#hawthorne heights#buttons#pins and patches#pinback button#emopins#emo#hottopic#senses fail#silverstein#taking back sunday#saosin#from first to last#a skylit drive#story of the year#alesana#red jumpsuit apparatus#escape the fate#mayday parade#dashboard confessional#blessthefall#a day to remember#circa survive#we came as romans#secondhand serenade
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Byerly Vorrutyer/Duv Galeni
Byerly tries to honeypot Duv.
don't think I've ever seen this pairing before, cool, thanks! I'll add it to ao3 as well.
#vkm prompts#what a fascinating prompt#i think they'd hit all each other's buttons#by's suspicion of everyone vs. galeni having to prove himself all the time#galeni choosing the Service vs. By's rejection of vor masculinity#lots to dig into there#byerly vorrutyer#duv galeni#david galen#vorkosigan saga
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Here's a thought: if your "website" requires "cookies to function properly" and use of my "personal data" then maybe it's just a dumb website and you should fix it. Why is that *my* problem and I have to see pop ups to make the website work?
#I'm being really mature about this right now#The satisfaction I get by always clicking the 'reject all cookies' button
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This is WILDLY incorrect, sheep are my special interest and I've been raising them for over a decade so excuse me while I get up on this soapbox: ewes do not have a standing heat. Cows reportedly do, but not sheep.
a) ewes who are in heat and feeling flirty solicit sex by walking other to someone they're attracted to, then turning their backs, peeing, wagging their tails, and making extremely flirty bedroom eyes over their shoulders at their crush. Also try to murder anyone they feel might be a rival for suitors. Also also try to murder her crush if it turns out they're not keen on her. Ewes in heat but not feeling flirty (yes this happens) walk around all business as usual and you only know they're in heat bc of the crowd of hopeful suitors following her around and fighting each other. Either way it's not subtle.
b) ewes DO mount each other, with great frequency and enthusiasm. If this is mentioned at all, it gets written into the literature not as a sexual act but as something ewes do to visually signal to rams that they are in heat. (If a ram is within a mile and not dead I promise he doesn't need any such signal) A 'lesbian' ewe will follow a ewe in heat and try to run all the other suitors off to keep breeding rights to herself just like a ram would, whether she herself is in heat or not.
c) it's really really easy to tell what a ewe is attracted to by who she mounts/lets mount her and who she head-butts away from her with murderous intent. Most ewes are more or less indifferent to gender. Out of two dozen I currently have one(1) exclusively straight ewe, and two(2) exclusively lesbian ewes, everyone else is in between.
As far as I can tell the real reason there's no "concrete facts" (sarcasm) about lesbianism in sheep is first off, in a commercial flock ewes that don't get pregnant every year, preferably on the first heat of fall, get culled. No one bothers to determine if she's infertile or just doesn't like rams, so lesbian ewes determined enough to actually stop rams from breeding them don't last long, and secondly that most people researching homosexuality in livestock I've experienced are either stuck in a Victorian "two feemales can't have sex cause there's no peenus for penetration hur dur" mindset or in an equally outdated male-actively-chooses/female-passively-chosen mindset and it just doesn't occur to them that ewes might have preferences.
two sheep. standing still
#not trying to be mean or antagonistic sorry just hit my infodump button cause ewes in heat are the bane of my existence#every stereotype of pms all at once. look at me funny? die. ignore my flirting? die. look at another ewe? you're dead.#sorry i can't come in the barn rn bc I'm too fabulous and also fuck that other ewe in particular. literally and figuratively.#even the ones that aren't flirty with anyone at all are damn mean about rejecting unwanted advances when in heat#every shepherd i know agrees the ewes fighting in the fall is more intense and leads to more injuries than the rams fighting
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LET'S KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL — GOJO SATORU
synopsis: the end of your contract with GS Holding Corp. is coming to an end. well, your contract working for the company's founder and CEO, gojo satoru, as his personal assistant is ending since you no longer would work directly under him. but gojo will be damned if he lets that happen without trying to change your mind.
content warning(s): fem! + afab reader, plot-ish → eventual smut so 18+ mdni, office au, risky workplace relationship, oral (m→f), unprotected, semi-public sex??? (it's in an office), pining gojo satoru bc that's my fave to write
word count: 6.7K+ holay molay...
a/n: wanted to post this bc 1) its been a millineum since i last posted & a fulfilled req and 2) mentally rejecting that manga leak/ending -_-
“I’ll miss you.”
You stand in front of the photocopy machine unmoving. The soft buzz of ink etching itself onto paper is the only sound that floats through the air beside the voice of the persistent CEO you work under.
Had you known that he would be following you around the building, bugging you as you tried to complete the tasks that he assigned you to finish on his behalf, you would’ve straight up told him to do it himself.
You contribute much of your time and effort to this company, and you’re highly recognized for your work. …But you absolutely didn’t need the recognition to come in the form of being under constant surveillance from your boss.
Assuming you might’ve not heard him the first time when you don’t respond right away, he leans in closer and rests a comfortable arm on your tense shoulders. “I said, I’m gonna miss you—”
“I heard you the first time, Gojo.”
When the machine stops whirring indicating that it has finished the job, you don’t hesitate to snatch the sheets of paper from the printer and slap them onto Gojo Satoru’s chest, decked out in a baby blue button-up. All too soon, you’re sidestepping around him and heading out the door toward your office right down the hall.
“Hey!” he exclaims at your sudden early departure.
Hot on your tail, Gojo trails after you clutching the papers close to his chest. “Where are you going?” Gojo asks when you take an unexpected sharp left turn from the usual route to his secluded workroom.
Despite your best efforts to leave him behind, his tall stature annoyingly reminds you that he can keep up with you just fine.
“Y’know,” your boss starts, catching your attention as you practically speed-stomp your way down the halls of his corporation, “Ijichi would never treat me like this!”
You could practically hear the way he pouts from behind you. When you briefly glance back to confirm your suspicions about what expression he could be wearing, you’re not surprised to see he’s throwing a wistful gaze above your head. His soft, pink lips are downturned and tacked with his snow-white brows all bunched together, probably wishing you’d be more graceful with him.
Or take pity on him at the very least, you know?
You turn back around and continue your path toward your own office space. “Well, it’s a good thing he’s coming back next month then, huh?”
Pity denied.
Gojo swore he heard the wry smile in your voice as soon as you finished your sentence. You’re willfully teasing him and playing with his emotions. But that’s why he’ll miss you— none of his employees would dare talk to him or give him the same flack as you do.
When you step into your office, so does he. And Gojo, either painfully oblivious or simply choosing to ignore the blatant act of you purposefully and almost slamming the door shut in his face, swings it wide open and ambles toward your workstation, a smile creeping onto his lips.
“Extend your contract with me,” he starts, carelessly tossing the sheaf of paperwork onto your tidy desk once he’s within arms reach of it. He peeks at you over his shades and returns your unimpressed stare with an innocent smile. “I’ll raise your salary a reasonable amount once you do.”
While that did sound nice on paper, realistically speaking, dealing with Gojo’s antics for the foreseeable future was less than ideal for you. God forbid you start getting grey hairs at such an early age. Or a raised blood pressure. And besides…
“I still work under and for Utahime’s department though,” you say matter-of-factly, once you’ve crossed the space of your room to sit behind your desk. Your lips twist into a soft pout as you shuffle the scattered sheets together and place them into a neat pile.
Ah, right.
After Ijichi had filed for a paid sick leave after an unrelated work injury several months ago, you graciously covered your colleague’s position as the personal assistant to the founder and CEO of GS Holdings Corp., for the time being.
Pushing away the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head at the namedrop of his top leading director, Gojo deflates onto your desk.
Utahime has been on his case for the past few weeks to hurry up and file the paperwork so that you’d be back in her good graces as soon as your term with him expires. He’s been procrastinating on filing out the paperwork, mostly because he hates doing tedious work, the other half of him flat-out does not want to see you go so soon.
To say Gojo has thoroughly enjoyed you operating as his aide would be a huge understatement.
Wherever Gojo was in his grand office building, it wouldn’t be unusual for your co-workers to spot you too far off. Outside of work is the same story, especially considering you’d be the one driving him home from work since Ijichi acted as both his assistant and driver.
“Just switch to mine!” Gojo whines. He joins you at your desk and sits his ass right on the documents you had printed and stretches his limbs against the surface, nearly eating up all the space on your desk. He ignores your strained quips at him to get the hell off.
“Utahime’ll be fine, let her find someone else. The job market’s already bad as is, so let another person take it and come be with me.”
There’s a double meaning if you dig deep, and Gojo prays and hopes you’d take the time to digest what he really means.
However, it seems like you’re not in the mood to be an excavator today.
Pushing his antics and sweet-talking to the side, you arch a questioning brow at him and lean back into your chair. There was nothing explicitly charged behind that reaction of yours, but it shook Gojo to the core realization that his attraction to you was unnerving— though not unnerving enough to have him stay away from you.
“What about Ijichi? Where’s he gonna go if I stay?”
Gojo visibly perks up at your usage of the word ‘if’, because in his mind he’s already imagined the situation to be quite likely. You see the way he sits a little taller, a little higher on your desk at the proposed question.
But alas, you dash his hopes by adding, “Which I won’t. But if I did, what then?”
“Then you guys can make it a two-person job!” he proclaims as if it were the most easy and obvious answer in the world. Gojo rests his feet on either side of your hips and the heels of his dress shoes press into the leather material of your rolling chair, prompting you to squeeze your thighs together due to the lack of room. “You know I need all the help I can get around here.”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Gojo.”
With the wheels on your chair, your boss uses it as leverage to roll you impossibly closer to him than you already were, angling your face centimetres away from his lower torso. You will your eyes to not drift down his body and toward his lap.
Lord knows the field trip the man would have with that if he were to catch you blatantly checking him out right before him.
“Why’s it so hard to convince you to stay, huh?” he asks, knocking a soft knuckle against that stubborn head of yours. “Why? You don’t like me or something?”
Your heart stutters in your chest at his question.
Insufferable as he can be sometimes, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel some magnetic pull towards him.
Losing control of the situation a bit, you grab the reins again. Clearing your throat you ask, “Do you talk to all your employees like that?”
He shakes his head. “Nah.” Gojo props an elbow onto his knee and presses his cheek into the palm of his hand. His smile grows warm and gooey when his blue eyes clash with yours from where you sit a few inches below him. “Just you.”
You’ll die. You swear you can die right now from the way he’s looking at you— which is no way a boss would ever look at their employee. Let alone assistant.
Keep it professional.
“Wow! I’m flattered,” you reply, your tone laced heavily with dry sarcasm. You brush his legs away, successfully bringing his feet to rest on the floor and scoot back from your desk. The heated tension that once lingered in the air clears out a bit as you rise to your feet.
Soft cerulean eyes watch as you stand before him, a bit more guarded as you cross your arms across your chest. Whatever you say next is completely lost on him because unlike you, as subtle as he may be, Gojo allows his eyes to wander.
He swallows thickly. You shouldn’t do that. His gaze inconspicuously slides down to the low neck of your blouse and zeroes in on how your arms press against your chest, deliciously squeezing your breasts together and—
“Satoru!” you hiss.
Shit.
Maybe he wasn’t as discreet as he thought.
Quickly flitting his attention back to your face, Satoru offers you a half-assed apology but it’s too late for that. Your face is screwed tight with abashment and bafflement after having caught him in the act. It’s an emotion he hasn’t seen you wear lately. He wants to see more of that. More of you.
Before you could get a word out, ready to rip him a new one about how your eyes weren’t ‘down there’, he hurriedly rushes out a proposition— changing the subject and bringing you both back to the original reason as to why he’d been following you around this past hour. “If I get you to like me, will you work past your term?”
You rest your arms at your sides, completely forfeiting your motion to scold him. Now that’s new. “I never said I don’t like you.”
Satisfaction settles in his chest, warm and heavy at your statement. Gojo liked the sound of that.
“Then how about this,” the tall CEO moves from his seat on your desk toward you. With each step you take back, he matches you in stride until he’s got your back up against a wall. Quite literally.
“If I get you to like me more than you do now, you stay. With me. Deal?”
The gentle scent of fabric softener and sandalwood cologne wafts around you. This proximity made you squirm with anticipation. “Do what you want,” you say, craning your neck up to stare at him resolutely. “It won’t change the fact that I’ll be in a whole new department next month.”
The smirk on Gojo’s lips stretches wide as he meets you stare for stare. His voice drips heavy with confidence and a brazen spirit as he asks, “Yeah?”
You only manage a stiff nod, not trusting yourself to speak lest it comes out as a fucking moan from the sexual tension alone.
Content with your compliant state, Gojo finally backs off from you and makes his way toward your door. “Don’t forget that meeting we have with the executives this Friday.”
“I know,” you tumble out, sinking back onto your office chair, miffed that he's got you in such a tizzy. It's a miracle that you don’t melt into it right away under his gaze.
You pick up a new batch of paperwork and begin filing them into their respective folders. When you finish with the first set, Gojo’s still lingering by the doorway, watching you.
“Yes?”
“Nice top, by the way.” His hand rests on the wooden frame, eyes half-lidded with intent. “It really does bring out your eyes.”
As expected, you did not forget about that special executive meeting on Friday. Nor did you forget about the many others you’d have to host and coordinate after that, too.
Essentially, you didn’t let what had transpired the week before deter you from your respective duties as Gojo’s personal assistant. As his right-hand… woman.
But you didn’t entirely forget about what went down either.
Whether you adhered to his “deal” or not was completely up to you. However, after that day, every personal meeting or time alone together seemed to bristle with tension, heavy with a delicious sort of pressure of the unknown.
When Gojo would catch your eye or you’d catch his during prolonged meetings that stretched over the initial run time with the higher-ups, there would be a brief moment of shared glances. One recent instance stuck with you to the last few weeks of your contract.
You remember how he would roll his eyes sarcastically as if he were being forced against his own will to attend these kinds of things— which technically he was, but that’s the reality of being a successful founder and CEO of your own company— and his actions would rouse a stifled giggle from you, which in turn prompted an easy smile of his own.
But it was through these shared glances, these brief moments of humour that it would slip into something a little slower, a little more sweet the more you two held eye contact like dripping honey until you broke it off, hurriedly directing your attention back toward the front of the room.
It’s only a matter of time until this bundled ball of emotions displayed through knowing glances and brief moments of heated exchanges finally snaps.
You both wonder when that’ll be.
“This is crazy.”
You slide your gaze away from swirling your cup of iced cappuccino to Shoko who sits beside you. She leans her head back against the cushions of your office sofa— a complimentary gift from Gojo two weeks ago(you suspect it was his last-ditch effort to get you to stay).
“What is?” you ask.
Sitting up, Shoko crosses her leg over the other and fixes you with an exhausted look. “This!” she exclaims, gesturing her hands around the vicinity of your room. There are moving boxes scattered everywhere, which is a bit absurd considering you’re only moving one level downstairs to your old space.
“I can’t believe you’ve only got a week left until you switch departments,” she says. “Suguru’s gonna lose his head the moment you’re gone and Satoru’s already started with the theatrics.”
Trust and believe that you already know. It’s hard not to when you’ve got the Chief Operating Officer, Geto Suguru, knocking on your door for an offer you ‘don’t wanna turn down’. But once you’d told Geto that you were still going ahead with filling out the documents to head back to Utahime and her team, it led to a hefty chunk of your lunch being taken up by him asking (begging) you to reconsider when your contract end date drew closer.
“I just worry for Ijichi is all,” you say, shrugging as if the situation were already out of your hands. “Gojo’s been very temperamental and… well, bratty these past few days.”
Shoko’s brown and neatly trimmed brows shoot up with interest at the disclosure.
You think back to a few days ago when you told Satoru to take it easy on Ijichi. You told your white-haired superior that he’d have to patiently reintroduce him to the new tech and procedures that Ijichi would work with as it would be his first week back. You couldn’t believe your ears when he straight-up told you, “I don’t care about a man’s hardships. He can work them out by himself!”
“Satoru’s always tormented the poor guy,” Shoko says, shaking her head at her friend’s show of obnoxious behaviour, “but he does mean well. I think.”
And speak of the devil…
Over the curve of Shoko’s shoulder through the open blinds of your clear, glass window you spot Gojo. Noticing that he’s caught your attention, he waves incessantly at you through the glass before you hear him twist the knob of your door open.
“Which reminds me,” your friend continues, drawing your sights back on her, “the rest of the team and I were thinking of heading out for drinks later to celebrate with you one last time. Wanna come?”
“Oooh,” Gojo drawls once he’s within earshot.
He’s looking extraordinarily handsome today, wearing black slacks and a buttoned, linen navy blue top. He’s smiling boyishly from ear to ear when he catches you twisting your lips in a tight purse as if you were trying to stifle a smile of your own. “A celebration, hm? Can I come?”
Shoko scrunches her face at the sudden question and self-invitation. She throws a bewildered look in Gojo’s direction when he settles himself onto his signature spot in your office. Your desk. “Why?”
Huh?
What kind of question was that? Why else would he want to spend an evening out with everyone? With you especially.
White brows bunch together, tight with confusion. “To celebrate with you guys?” he responds as if Shoko had just asked a one-dimensional question.
“You’ve been a moping mess this past month after you’ve learned that she—” Shoko points her finger into the flesh of your cheek, “—wasn’t going to extend her work contract with you. So, if anyone’s gonna be celebrating, it sure as hell isn’t you.”
Yeesh! Tell him what you really think.
Knowing Shoko didn’t mean any harm by her words, you still felt inclined to soften the blow of her statement just a tad. “Plus, you don’t drink alcohol, Gojo.”
“And you don’t drink,” Shoko adds, raising her arms in exclamation as if to thank you for bringing that point up.
“Well,” pushing himself off the edge of your mahogany desk, Gojo stops a bit before the sofa you and Shoko both occupied. “I don’t need to drink to have a good time with my team!” he defends, directing a pout-induced glower at his colleague.
You’d think he’s done, but with the touch of Gojo’s large hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you off the couch that you realize he’s far from over at stating his point. “And neither do you,” he says, he pulls you behind him, steering you both toward the door. “We’ve got plans.”
Puzzlement crosses over not only yours but Shoko’s features as well.
“We do?”
“Since when?”
Gojo nods at you and Shoko’s questions spoken in tandem. “Emergency meeting. She and I’ve got important matters to discuss.” You feel the faint brush of his hand find the small of your lower back and maneuver you out the door and away from Shoko’s view. “You wouldn’t get it.” Is the last thing he says before he pokes his tongue out at the woman and ducks out of sight.
“Oh, really?” She says, rising to her feet but making no moves to follow you both out the door.
“You don’t even put your own two cents during our regular team meetings! There’s literally nothing for you to discuss, Satoru.” You hear her call after him as he guides you down the hall, past the elevators and toward his big office.
If only she knew how true that statement would be.
Gojo hates meetings. They always happen at inconvenient moments and eat up way too much of his precious time. It’s time that he could be spending doing something else… or someone.
Which is why this “emergency meeting” was different.
If someone had told Gojo Satoru several months ago that his favourite employee, his darling assistant would be seated pliant for him on his expensive Birch Lane executive desk he would have laughed in their face with a furious blossoming blush nipping at his neck.
But right now, there’s nothing to laugh about.
Gojo’s watching you closely in the shaded dark of his room, tracking every subtle shift in your body language for any indication that you may be uncomfortable and change your mind at the last minute. But when you wrap an arm around his neck, slotting him closer in between your legs, he realizes he couldn’t have been more wrong.
Something in the air felt different. It was thicker. Electric.
Gojo knew in an instant he wouldn’t last when your lips ghost the words, “This doesn’t mean I’m changing my mind,” on his mouth, before tipping his head to the side, giving you the space to slot your lips with his.
Game fucking over.
Sure, maybe he wasn’t able to completely get you to change your mind about working with him and his department.
But this?
You whimper into his mouth when his hands skim down back and cheekily resting right above your ass. Your body warms underneath the palm of his hands with every touch and how he kneads your hips tucked away beneath your business casual attire.
Gojo Satoru had won in his own right.
Your breaths come quicker as he steals them from you, his left-hand squeezes your side while the other slides across your lower belly and traces the hem of your blouse.
“Take this off,” he commands, his voice wrecked with reckless abandon. His forefinger hooks on the band of your pants, in a pathetic attempt to pull them down despite not having undone your button and zipper. His air of frustration is not lost on you when you see the slight furrow in his brows, the more he pulls but to no avail of getting you in a state of undress.
Not wanting to lose the momentum you both have, you unhook your arm from his shoulders to give him a helping hand.
“Relax,” you say, softly nudging his hands away from your clothing. He hungrily eyes how you pop the button of your dress pants and shuck them onto the floor.
Once that was off though, everything came into sharp focus, and Gojo’s breath caught in his throat.
There’s almost a crazed look in his eye the more he stares at your clothed cunt unblinking, unmoving. His breathing’s gone a bit ragged, and every so often you feel the twitch of his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh.
It was a bad idea, considering how the sight of your panties alone had him this rigid, this excited. But he still grits out a rough, “Lemme see.”
Slowly, you pull your laced underwear to the side and Gojo's teeth dig into his inner cheek at the sight. His hands mark a slow path from your thighs down to your knees, pushing them wide apart so that he could see more of you.
The delicate spread of your folds had your boss entranced. Gojo has seen and salivated over the various outfits you wore to the workplace, always wondering what was underneath before he deemed such thoughts as inappropriate and immediately started thinking about something else. But now that he sees it for himself, it was all too tantalizing. He wanted to see all of you, taste all of you.
The tuft of snow-white hair that once obscured your vision is now gone, sinking lower to your lap.
“Oh!” you exclaim loudly at his sudden movement. Shocked by how quickly he came down to eye level with your pussy. “You don’t—” you stammer, swallowing hard as all the blood rushed to your head. Instinctively, you snap your legs shut in a weak attempt to shield yourself from his intense, unwavering gaze. “You don’t have to do that!”
Having one of Japan’s richest, self-made men drop down to his knees staring fervently at your cunt through you in for a loop. You’re sure by now the expression face was no less than gobsmacked right now.
Gojo’s hand grasps one of your calves, his thumb rubbing smooth circles over your warm skin before he hooks it over his shoulder leaning closer to you. “What do you mean?”
Pulling you closer to his face, you’re forced to plant your other foot onto the ground for stability. “This!” you hiss out, tone laced with embarrassment and arousal as your finger points between his face and your body. “It’s unbecoming, you don’t have to do that to get me off. Really!”
“Why not?”
You don’t have to say what you’re thinking out loud. You were his assistant for fuck’s sake!
You’re sure what you two are doing would be an issue with some legal policy with the company. But then again… Gojo Satoru is the founder and CEO of said company so he can technically get away with one or two things. But—
Sensing your hesitancy, Gojo’s eyes soften when he looks up at you. “Just… forget the formalities for a sec, will you?” he implores, strong hands grazing up to your knees again hoping you wouldn’t be stubborn with him this one time. “Please? I want to do this for you.”
You look searchingly into his eyes before you finally mellow out. Feeling you relax in his hold and your thighs lose that tension, that was enough of a green light for Satoru before his mouth skims along the mound of pussy. Each kiss he pressed lovingly against your skin, left you shivering in their wake.
It wasn’t long before his tongue, firm and slick, pokes out and licks a long, slow stripe up your slit which has you keening. You feel his lips twist into a smug smile when he hears the broken sound of his first name from above him.
“Hm?” he hums, still mouthing at your pussy which encourages another ragged moan from you. “Am I doing good so far?”
You don’t know why he even bothered asking, considering the sheen shine of your arousal coating his mouth and chin. Nonetheless, you give him the answer he patiently waits for.
“Yeah,” you breathe, moaning again when the tip of his tongue circles your sensitive clit.
And it all becomes too much when his hand abandons supporting your leg on his shoulder, to skate its way up your thigh and toward your pussy. The combination of his forefinger rubbing tight, intricate shapes on your clit and his mouth working you open have you yelping from overstimulation.
You press your palm against Gojo’s forehead when the heat in your lower belly runs hotter, successfully pushing his face away.
“Not like this,” you protested weakly, your hand smooths down from his face to grip his shoulders. There’s a light flush that peaks beneath the collar of his shirt. He looks absolutely debauched right now. “I want you.”
With the cuff of his sleeve, Gojo wipes your arousal off the bottom half of his face. Unhooking your legs from him, you're left to shakily stand on your own, with nothing but the support of his desk to keep you upright.
“Alright,” he breathes, smiling at how your eyes follow the way his hands undo the expensive black Ferragamo belt on his waist. “How do you want me then?”
“Um…” You look around the place for feasible places for you to get fucked on. Crude, but true.
Behind Gojo is his office chair rolled back, looking vacant and lonely. “We could do it on the chair?” you suggest, eyes twinkling at your proposal. “If you want?”
“You want to ride me?” he asks, a proud smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.
Your air of confidence softens into something more breathless and vulnerable which has his heart surging with reckless affection. “Don’t make it weird!” you yelp, giving his shoulder a light shove.
Dragging the chair closer, Gojo chuckles at how quick you are to change moods. “Come,” he says once he has sat down, patting his lap with one hand while the other pulls himself free from his boxers and slacks. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”
You don’t know what turns you on more: A) the way he’s speaking so dirty, so obscene with you right now or B) the sight of Satoru’s cock smacking against the pale, creamy space of his exposed lower abdomen. You stare at it for too long, the build-up of saliva gathering in your mouth the more you stare at his thick and hard shaft, occasionally bobbing on its own under your intense glare.
You could die and go to heaven right now.
Gojo’s hands grab your waist and pull you closer to him. Running your tongue along the inside of your cheek, you twist around so that you’re back is now facing him as you prepare to take him all in.
“No, no, no, no,” he rushes out when you’re about to sit down on his lap facing away from him. Within seconds, Gojo has you facing him. He grasps the back of your knee and tugs it to his side, pushing the armrest out of the way and does the same with the other.
Oh! You didn’t know it could do that.
“I wanna see you,” he murmurs, once you’re now straddling his lap and hovering mere inches away from his erection. His free hand moves between your bodies and grabs the base of his cock and angles it toward your slit.
“Oh.” You feel giddy. The noticeable brush of his tip stroking along your slick folds only adds to that dizzying sensation. “Yeah, I’m—”
When the head of Gojo’s cock slowly starts to push inside of you, your sentence is cut off by a broken moan emitted from the back of your throat.
With his eyes closed, there’s a lazy smile that spreads across Gojo’s mouth as he breathes out a heavy groan once he’s all the way inside you. “Yeeeah,” he whispers, the pads of his fingertips pushing tight against your bare skin.
You bite your lip and experiment with this position. Lifting your hips slightly before you sink back down, Gojo buries his face into your neck and breathes, ragged and heavy.
So much for wanting to see you.
“Shit,” you hear him hiss, as he blindly gropes at your ass, working your body to continue to slide up and down his hard cock. The heat of you had him seeing stars as searing pleasure tore through him.
Whimpering, you clench onto firm biceps, enjoying the shallow strokes he pushes into you.
It’s incoherent at first. However, when you tumble out a dazed huh? so that you could hear him repeat whatever he had said, Satoru's lips parted in ecstasy. “I forgot,” he choked out, voice raw and unhinged.
Gently tugging him away from your neck, your core tightened at the fucked out expression on his face. Curious eyes trail down to his stomach and how with each pump inside you, his muscles involuntarily spasm.
“The condom,” he states, slowing down his fevered pace. “I forgot…”
If it were anyone else, you would’ve hopped right the fuck off their lap with panic, body tense over the fact of how careless you were being.
But surprisingly there were no alarm bells and no flashing red lights in your mind. If anything your blood ran a little hotter, the need and tightness in your core taking over.
You don’t know you have it in you to completely stop everything in a search for a condom you don’t even know he might have.
“Pull out then,” is all you say before you begin to ride him again.
Gojo can definitely get behind that. He’s not complaining if it meant he got to have you completely raw.
Your pussy swallows his cock, and Satoru gathers up the bottom of his shirt— wrinkling it in the process— so that he could see the way he disappears inside you over and over.
When he shifts his gaze back up again so he can take in the expression you might be wearing, Gojo’s surprised to see you already looking at him.
There’s an adorable tinge to your lips that has Gojo flitting his gaze back to them every damn time he tries to make eye contact with you as he fucks himself sweetly into your pussy.
He’s overcome with the strong urge to kiss you. To cross the small width of space between your mouths.
So, he does.
His brow bumping yours, Gojo’s hands return to your ass and he stands up with you in his embrace. The cold press of his desk accosts you as he uses his weight to push you slowly onto your back.
“Satoru,” you sigh your boss’s name blissfully once his lips leave yours to press them along the curve of your jaw before pulling away.
“I wanted this to be nicer,” he says, brilliant blue eyes glittering down at you through the sex-soaked shadows. His hips don’t stop pistoning in and out of you, and he exhales a particularly harsh hiss when he feels you squeeze around him. “Nicer than here.”
You drag in a breath at his sentence, its implications not lost on you. He’s thought about this before. “It's okay, there's always another time.”
Satoru hums appreciatively, seemingly pleased with your answer. After leaning in for one last kiss, he brushed his mouth from yours and announced in a voice you barely recognize, “I’m gonna come.”
Propping yourself onto your elbows, you nod at him. “Pull out then.”
“Are you sure?”
Stuck between the incredulous look painted across your features and how your nails press a little tighter into his skin, Gojo listens. Not without hissing out a disgruntled, “Fine.”
Pulling out from your wet pussy, Gojo’s hand wraps around his dick and he strokes it fast and hot. He growls with sharp relief when you reach a hand down to massage his sac. He thinks he may come all over you if you continue doing that.
“Fuck,” he snarls when your fingers graze the base of his cock.
Cracking his eyes open, he messily knocks your hand away from him before intertwining his fingers with yours and grabbing himself with his free hand, stroking hard and fast. Every so often his tip would intentionally rub up and press against your nub, successfully stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves with the main goal to climax.
With every pent-up thought he’s had about you, Gojo finally comes with you in tow. His cum dribbles out from his slit and lands on your skin— mostly between your inner thighs and folds.
“So,” Gojo starts, his hands wandering up to the middle of your back after a few moments of comfortable shared silence between you two. As much as he wanted to relax in your post-sex session and bask in its warm glow, he had to address the elephant in the room.
You hum in response as you work the buttons of your blouse, waiting for him to continue. “When you said ‘next time’, did you seriously mean t—”
The two of you abruptly jump apart at the telltale sound of heels clicking down the hall drawing closer and closer to Gojo’s office door. In a panic, you leap off his desk, sending a flurry of sheets flying down to the floor into a sorry pile.
“Nice going,” Gojo remarks with a sly grin, as you hurriedly shimmy your pants up your legs. The sheen layer of sweat— among other things— makes it a bit difficult for you to easily slip them on.
Once they’re settled at your hips and you tend to the zip, you cast a withering glare his way, you’re relieved to see that he’s already tucked himself away into his pants, already looking presentable by the time the door opens.
With the click of the lock giving way, you hear a woman starkly ask, “Why are all the lights off?”
You could pinpoint that voice from a kilometre away.
Turning on your heel, you see the shadowy figure of one of your closest colleagues in the dark of the room. “Utahime!”
When the head director steps into the room and flicks on the lights, the sudden brightness has you squinting your eyes a bit. Upon catching your gaze she offers you a sincere smile, visibly lighting up at the sight of you.
But it doesn’t last long because seconds after her smile morphs into a displeased scowl when she spots Gojo lounging boneless in his office chair a few feet away.
“And why’s it so…” Utahime fans a delicate hand in front of her face, casting a weary gaze at you two from across the room. “Warm in here?” she questions no one in particular.
Her eyes take in the setting before her, and she pauses in her tracks. You could only imagine what thoughts were racing through her mind.
“What hap—”
“—It’s warm?! I couldn’t even tell!” you respond, a bit too chipper as you cut her line of questioning off. A bit too fast.
From behind you, you hear Gojo’s stifled laughter that’s covered by poorly by a ridiculous attempt at a coughing fit.
“Well,” you wring your hands together subconsciously, “what brings you here?”
Noticing your off demeanour, Utahime fixes you with a puzzled look that reads as if she were asking you "are you okay?" as your plastered smile only grows more strained by the second.
“I came here to grab your reports and documentation from Gojo’s outbox, but somebody,” cue Satoru slipping on his signature shades to deflect the icy stare Utahime was housing, “forgot to put them there. Hence why I’m here.”
“Oh, right!” Gojo hums, rolling back from his desk as he reaches down to gather the scattered sheets that had fallen to the floor. “They’re all here.”
You both watch in shared silence as he flips through each page, meticulously setting each one aside that wasn’t labeled with your name on the header.
Thrown off by how long he’s deliberately taking in smoothing out the crinkles on each page, the older woman stomps up to Gojo and unceremoniously slaps her hand on the wooden table. “Give me that, will you?!” she exclaims, snatching and wrestling the papers out from his hands.
“Ah! Wait—”
Scanning the pages your department leader seems content that everything’s in order.
Until it's not?
The woman’s once sunny and bright disposition suddenly flips on his head, as there seems to be something written on that page midway that makes her freeze.
“Go ahead and hand me a new copy,” Utahime says, practically tossing the sheets of paper back onto his desk without a second glance. She smooths her hands down the silky expanse of her long skirt, once, twice, then three times for good measure. “I want it in my inbox by next Monday.”
She nods curtly at you before she turns and practically books it to his door. You don’t know why but you swear you saw the faintest hue of pink tickling the apples of her cheeks. There was also an expression that couldn’t quite put your finger on that highlighted her features.
If you were to say though, her emotion looked between the mix of detachment, embarrassment… wait, no. It was mortification.
But what was there to be mortified over?
“What’s wrong with the copy you gave her?”
Gojo presses his lips together in a sad attempt to keep his smile at bay as he hands it over to you to see for yourself.
Eyebrows furrowed, you skim each sheet. You don’t get it. What’s the problem with—
That’s until you notice that some of the pages are sticking together. It’s on the third page you see it and understand why Utahime was in such a rush to leave. Why she kept wiping her hands onto her clothing.
Right there among the printed hiragana and kanji was a few small white streaks of fluid covering bolded characters and numbers.
Oh no.
“Y’know…” The sleeve of his dress shirt rests along your neck as his hand squeezes at your shoulder. Delicate fingers slide against your bare skin and pull at the strap of your bra, successfully tucking it underneath your blouse again. Had that been poking out the entire time?! “I knew it would’ve been a good idea to finish inside.”
Horrified that you’d have to deal with the information of going back to Utahime next week knowing that she knows what you guys did, has you burying your face into Gojo’s chest and letting out a muffled scream.
“Just saying!”
FIN
i don't know how to stay within the maximum word count for the life of me... i'm not sorry!
#sahkuna!#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo smut#jjk smut#gojo satoru smut#I EDITED THAT PANEL TO LOOK MORE LIKE HIM (the hair)#mdni divider by cafekitsune
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tumblr blackout proposal
tumblr mobile has steadily become near unusable these past few updates. not just from a user experience perspective (which is important enough in itself) but also from an accessibility perspective.
examples include the new way the image viewer works (if you can call it "working"), the tumblr live button replacing the profile button, and that newly created blogs will be forced to have their main dashboard tab be the 'for you' page.
the demands of the protest would be along the lines of:
reverse the recent image viewer update
scrap the new users 'for you' page default setting
let us turn off tumblr live indefinitely
increase efforts against spam / porn bots
make reporting abuse and hate speech as easy as reporting as reporting spam
let us go nuts show nuts again... for real this time
remove flashing ads, including not accepting blaze campaigns for posts with flashing in them
commit to improving usability and accessibility, and listening to users!
(suggestions welcome!)
to protest against these usability issues, and inspired by the recent reddit blackout, i propose a 48 hour blackout (where you don't use tumblr at all). preferably of both mobile and web (since web has problems too) but mobile is the focus here.
[edit: a 'blackout' is when you don't log in, or interact with the site at all, for [x] amount of time.]
I suggest from the 30th of June.
this marks the end of pride month (for the "queerest place on the internet") and the start of disability month (since accessibility is a massive issue here).
tumblr office is in San Francisco, USA, so the times and dates will be calculated using their time zone (PDT).
you can find out the times and dates for your timezone here.
i can't afford to blaze this post so please spread it around as much as possible! protests only work if significant numbers show up!
edit: tumblr rejected the blaze campaigns for this post because they know it would hurt them. let's make this an indefinite blackout - it's the best way to get results.
edit 2: plain text version of this post
#again‚ suggestions welcome :)#dogpost#tumblr#tumblr dot com#tumblr.com#tumblr blackout#tumblr protest#accessibility issues#user experience#accessibility#ideally they would just integrate xkit toggles but we know they wont do that lol#tumblr strike
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how do celebrities' piercings just never seem to get infected or irritated? do they use any speacial healing product asides from saline water
#doesn't make sense to me#how every single female singer in the 2000s had a belly ring and they just looked nice all the time.#belly button piercings get irritated and rejected so easily so like. what's their secret
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Simon Riley truly wants to watch movies with you before sleep.
Of course he does.
Your dedication to the case disarms him, even though he wouldn't let it show. The amount of time you spend on choosing the right flick. The way you arrange your battered laptop on top of a pile of books set on a chair, placed at a strategic distance from your shared bed.
He loves to watch as you fluff the pillows (each one from a different set, including Blahaj the plush shark). To watch as you press the 'play' button and then look up to him with starry eyes, saying: "This is gonna be good!"
He's endeared to the way you crawl under the duvet (and under the electric blanket as well, because Simon is perpetually cold) to snuggle trustingly into his side. How you throw your short leg over his massive thigh, clad in grey sweatpants.
Here's the problem though. All those small luxuries...the soft bedding, the familiar warmth of your body and the pleasant buzz emitted by the laptop engulf Simon in a soothing sense of safety. And there's only one way that a trained soldier's body can metabolise such a feeling.
The man conks out instantly and sleeps like a stone.
At first, you felt offended by this rejection of your honed cinephile taste. By the fifth time, you've realised it wasn't about the films or about you.
You've stopped poking him. You'd just slid your fingers into his tousled, reddish-blond hair, which gets all wavy whenever Simon skips his bi-monthly trip to the barber. You've learned to enjoy the rest of the film by your lonesome, listening to Simon's quiet snores by your side. You let this troubled soul enjoy his moment of peace.
Yes - the fearsome Ghost snores. He's had his nose broken more times than he can remember.
#simon ghost riley#modern warfare#simon riley headcanons#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#simon x reader#simon riley cod#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley fluff#ghost x you#ghost fluff#ghost simon riley
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To be perceived: Husband!Nanami x Reader
“I don’t feel good in anything!” Your clothes are strewn around the room, victims of your self-image. Nanami holds up a dress, raising an eyebrow in a silent offer. You shake your head. “That hasn’t fit in years!”
He sits down heavily on the bed, surveying the emptied drawers and your increasingly desperate face. He tries discreetly to check his watch. He’ll call and move the reservations back, no problem.
You take off the latest rejected outfit and sit down helplessly in the middle of the room. “Kento, I’m an ugly slug.” Your husband joins you on the floor, wrapping both arms around you.
“You’re a beautiful slug, dear.”
You laugh and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know we’re running late…”
He kisses the top of your head. “Don’t worry about it. I just want you to feel good. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, my love.”
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be perceived, you know?”
Nanami nods thoughtfully. “I can’t make that happen, but maybe I could help distract people. Make it so you’re not the one they’re staring at.”
You turn to look up at him. “What do you mean? You’re wearing your scheming face…”
“Don’t worry, angel. You just finish getting ready and leave it to me, okay?” He disappears into the bathroom.
In a few minutes, you’re feeling a bit better. You’ve put on a comfortable outfit and done your makeup. Nanami’s voice is muffled from behind the door. “Are you ready, darling?”
“Yes, ready when you are!” You call back.
Your husband emerges from the bathroom, a confident smile on his chiseled face. Your mind short-circuits for a moment, not sure what to focus on first- the shock of blonde hair slipping over one eye, the expertly applied black eyeliner, or the skirt swaying around his muscled thighs. He looks beautiful.
“Kento, what is this?” You squint. “Is that my eyeliner?”
“No, it’s mine,” he says easily. “I’ve had it since high school.”
“And the hair? I’ve never seen you without it gelled up…”
He blushes a little at that. “Also high school.”
You shake your head in disbelief, your heart racing at the unexpected transformation. “Well I know that’s my skirt,” you giggle.
“Ah, yes. That’s correct. I found one with an elastic waist, so I could fit- but I’ll change if you mind me using it.”
“No, not at all!” You reassure quickly. He has a good eye for fashion, despite his usual insistence on a leopard-print tie. He’s paired the skirt with one of his own button-downs, sleeves rolled up over his ropy forearms. You step forward, cupping his cheek in your hand.
“You like it, then?” He asks softly.
“You’re beautiful,” you sigh. “But what’s this all about?”
He chuckles. “I figured that although you look stunning as ever, I might get a little more attention than you tonight. Help with the whole ‘being perceived’ bit.”
You laugh and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, careful not to muss his hair. “You’re an angel. A sexy, stylish angel.”
“As long as I’m yours,” he murmurs. “Now. I’ve moved our reservations once, let’s not be late for them again, hm?”
Nanami’s theory was correct. Every eye in the fancy restaurant is on him as the two of you are escorted to your table. Some stares are admiring, some judgmental, but he’s completely unbothered. He looks at you from across the table as if you’re the only other person in the world.
You clink your wine glasses together. “To my beautiful wife,” he smiles.
“To my beautiful husband,” you smile back.
#nanami kento#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#jjk x reader#nanami fluff#jjk fluff#husband!nanami#domestic fluff
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~ BET ~
JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader(kinda implied kook)
Warnings: Smut, Dry Humping, Thigh Riding, Edging, lil bit of Daddy Kink, d/s Dynamics, Creampie, Papa Jay. Kinda Proofread.
Please point out any mistakes
{masterlist}
————
JJ hadn’t even considered how difficult NNN would be, when the idea came up between him, John B, and Pope he thought it would be the easiest 40 bucks he had ever made. He didn’t need to finish to have fun, he could make you come undone with two fingers, easy. However, he gravely underestimated how much you needed him to be inside you, no matter how many times he had you cumming on his fingers and tongue in a day, he would still have to hold back through all of your begging that night.
JJ hadn’t noticed how much he spoiled you until now, he would have you underneath him or between him and a wall every day, sometimes twice if he could. And you had gotten used to that treatment. “But what about me Jay?” You pouted, looking up to him with those big, sad eyes when you came to the Chateau that night, and he knew he messed up. There was no way he was gonna make it because he didn’t realize he had you addicted to his cock until you were already fiending for it. All on account of his stupid bet.
And it just got harder from there.
Your lips grazed against the back of his neck, your hands feeling the tense muscles in his lower back as they danced across his skin, “Please Jay, I can’t wait, I want you now,” JJ held back a groan, his eyes fluttering shut when your hands made there way around to his front, hidden under his shirt where your fingers traced down his happy trail, testing him and pushing him further. He felt himself twitch in his cargo shorts, hardening almost immediately as your scent surrounded him, the feeling of your soft fingers almost sending him over the edge.
“It’s only day one Gorgeous, don’t test me.” He stated, his hands stopping yours when your fingers began playing with the button on his shorts as if they had a mind of their own. You groan behind him, retracting your arms and the warmth that came with them from around him, crossing them over your chest teasingly.
“You know I won’t tell them if you crack Jay, they would never know.” He sighed, head falling back before turning to watch you walk away from him, the sassy little swing in your hips almost making him jump at the offer. Almost.
But, his rejection sure as hell didn’t stop you from trying, if anything it egged you on further.
————
“What if I just sit on it Jay, I’ll warm you and when you’re about to cum I’ll get off Baby, I promise.” JJ chuckled at the desperate tone in your voice from below you, his head leant against the back of the couch displaying his Adam’s apple that bounced up and down every time your hips moved against him again. “Please Jay, I wanna feel you.”
“Nuh uh Princess, I know you can’t control yourself,” He laughed through a groan, the desperation of his voice making you speed up, proving him right. The friction building between you two becoming too much for him, your hips speeding up even more to chase the high he can’t have. He watches your chest rise and fall quicker as you drop your head into his shoulder, whining in his ear the closer you get to your release. You can feel him twitching against your clothed cunt every time you clench against nothing.
“Can you feel how wet I am for you through my underwear Jay?” His teeth dig into his bottom lip so hard he tastes blood, he’s testing himself now seeing how close he can get to the edge before he stops himself. Part of him just wants to let it happened, but he can’t lose in the first week, he would never hear the end of it, “Fuck Baby I am so sorry.” He groaned into your neck, tugging you up by your hips, moving to the side and aggressively pushing you down to reconnect with his thigh.
His large hands keep your rhythm when you falter, pushing you and tugging you against his thigh, pulling whines from your throat and making you twitch in his lap. Your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging on it uncontrollably while the band in your abdomen tightens. Your slick coats his leg forcing him to bite into your shoulder to control himself, whining into your flesh every time your knee brushes his tip, edging himself even further. You stutter and gasp, twitching against his thigh and soaking his shorts, his hands slow with your hips speed. Your watery eyes looked to him and his dick strained against his zipper further.
“You’re taking this so seriously, if I wasn’t so pissed at you I’d actually be kind of proud,” Your voice was breathy and came out strained, your glossy eyes held onto his, the little pout you had making him twitch and groan.
“I’m pissed at myself too,” He sighed, letting his head fall back into the crook of your neck, “I’ll tell ya’ what, if JB breaks soon, I’ll let Pope win and then you can ride me all you want Mama.”
“Really?! For me?” You squeak, so excited you would be embarrassed if you weren’t with JJ, “Fuck you’re amazing you know that?” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck, letting your fingers tangle into his hair again. Your soaked panties rubbing against his still hard cock, mixed with the sting your nails left at the base of skull forcing a whimper from his throat, and you know right then there is no way he is lasting the whole month.
————
“Cleo just texted me and Sarah, she broke Pope,” You giggled, typing away on your phone, his blue eyes watching you more intently than usual, just as they had been for the last ten days, “I kinda thought he would beat you both honestly.” You stated, tossing your phone beside you on the bed he made his before crawling over his thighs, his semi-hard cock already pressing against your entrance when you settle. He was so used to fucking you every night before you both slept in each other’s arms, that his body seemed to be prepared for it. Every time he looked at you recently he felt like he was about to bust, he was never doing this again. He decided he wouldn’t even be taking a trip without you ever again.
“Do you wanna fuck me now Jay?” Your breath fans across his ear and JJ bangs his head against the bed frame with a groan, your lips trail down the warm, salty skin on his neck stopping at the spot he loved the most and licking a stripe back up to his ear. You were desperate he could tell, and he absolutely loved it, and hated not being able to take care of it.
“Baby, you know I said if JB breaks….” He sighs into your skin, “Now I gotta win Princess, especially now that I know you thought I would lose.”
“Nooo, Jay, you can not imagine how horny I have been without you inside me,” you whined against the shell of his ear, exaggerating your neediness only a bit to try and get him to crack, “I won’t tell, not even Sarah.”
“Oh but Baby, that’s not winnin’,” He tsked, grabbing your cheeks, tugging your pouting face away and forcing eye contact, “If you wait I’ll use the bet money on anything you want.”
“I jus’ want you Daddy please.” You gripped his shoulders, thinking you knew exactly what the nickname would get you. Your teeth bit into your bottom lip as you began to rock your hips slightly, wanting him to finally give you what you want.
“Oh so that’s what you’re gon’ do huh?” His head tilted, slipping into his more dominant personality on instinct, his jaw twitching, his large hand gripping your hair in a flash, tugging it back and exposing your neck to him, “You can’t play that card and win Princess you know I’m in charge here.” He whispered into the flesh of your neck before his lips began their assault, sending a shiver down your spine and heating your abdomen even more than it had been.
“Do you want me to make it even worse for you Gorgeous,” he teased, “You can join me in this bet if that’s what you really want? I’ll bring you right up to the edge,” he whispered, his free hand slowly falling into your shorts to tease the hem of your underwear, “And then pull you right back with me.” He finished with a chuckle, snapping his hand out of your shorts, leaving you whining and wiggling against him.
“That’s no fair, you always make me cum, even when you’re mad.” You lean away from him and he lets you, resting you on his thighs before crossing your arms across your chest in the teasing way you know he likes. Shoving your breasts together right in his face, playing up the bratty attitude to get what you want.
“I make you cum when you’re good, and since you chose to pull out the Daddy card when you know damn well I can’t slip out of control until I finish,” He sighed between his words, eyes bouncing between your eyes and cleavage, controlling himself before he just fucks you right now, “Now you need to deal with his consequences.”
Your smile grows on your face, giggling at his words before you speak, “Okay, okay, I did do it on purpose but only because I need you so much.”
“Ah ah ah,” The teasing tone of his voice knocks your smile right off your face and you know you messed up, “I am dead serious, you’re stuck now Sweetness, you fucked up and now Papa Jay is gonna get what he wants. If you don’t act right I am gonna watch you beg for release every singe time I wanna fuckin’ cum until I can, do you understand me?”
Your eyebrows squeeze together, watching his face for a sign of hesitation, but the dominance stays. You whine as you wiggle your way off his legs to lat beside him, scowling at him before turning your back to him and laying down for bed. “If you change your mind in the middle of the night don’t hesitate to….wake me up, but only if you wanna fuck me awake.” You tease, wiggling your hips to poke out your pantie clad ass cheeks his direction.
“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t said that in the morning Gorgeous,” He laughed, slotting himself behind you in the dark, his arm pulling you into him and moaning in your ear at the feeling of your ass against his tightening boxers. You wiggled against him, pushing into him as he pushes back, his large hand splayed out on your lower abdomen tugging you impossibly closer. In one quick motion his leg locks against yours and his arms tighten around you, halting your movements as he speaks into your ear.
“Goodnight Baby, I love you so fucking much,” He growls into your ear, halting for a second to nip at your flesh before continuing, “and when I win this bet I am gonna give you the best dick of your life I promise you.” You whine again, desperately trying to run your thighs together for some type of friction.
“I love you too Jay, but I still want it now.” You huff, stopping your feeble attempts at movement at his soft, sleepy laugh behind you.
“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” He says with a yawn before you’re both slipping into a restless, sweaty sleep tangled together.
————
Your phone lights up beside you on your bedside table, prompting you to grab it and read Sarah’s message in the group chat made for your fellow victims of NNN. “Fuck yes.” You whispered under your breath as you typed out your response, letting them both know your man was the winner. The smile grew bigger on your face when your eyes met JJ’s as he entered your bedroom, his shirt was discarded, allowing your eyes to trace the drops of water left behind after he brushed his teeth as they make a pathway through his chiseled abs.
"See somethin' ya like?" He asks with a teasing smirk that widens into a grin when you toss your phone aside for him, sticking your arms out silently begging him to join you on the bed, wanting to finally feel his skin against yours again. He stalks towards your bed, eyes on you intently as you wiggle in excitement at his proximity,
"Who were you texting?" He asks, his voice deep and demanding, as though he would throw the bet away if you answered wrong.
You smile even wider at his question, "Sarah and Cleo." You state matter of factly, crawling towards JJ where he stands at the foot of the bed. His eyes follow your movements closely, taking notice of the fact that you had already shed your pants for bed. Your hips rocked teasingly the closer you got to him, your cleavage free of if it's usually confines was visible entirely from his angle above you. You stood on your knees proudly when you finally reacher him, drifting your hand across his chest, letting it slowly fall lower while he groans at the contact.
"If you stop right now I promise I will fuck you tomorrow whether John B breaks or not." He growls, dropping his head as though he was ashamed, gripping your hand to stop it's decent. He knew if he let it fall any further he would lose control. You only giggled in response, leaning your head up to reach his ear, leaving a trail of kisses and bites behind as you did so.
"You know JB already broke right?" You whisper even though you knew he didn't, giggling when JJ’s head shoots back into place immediately. His ears excitedly perked up at your words like a golden retriever, eyebrows furrowed as if to ask if you were lying to him.
"Really?" His voice comes out forced, loosening his grip on your hand and letting it continue it's pursuit past the hem of his boxers. Sighing at the contact of your cold fingers against the steaming temperature of his skin when he lets you wrap your fingers around his base.
"Yup, Sarah just texted me and Cleo, she got him, you won Baby," Your sultry voice in his ear sends tingles all over his body, "Do you want your prize Daddy?"
“Oh, fuck yes I do.” JJ was on you in seconds, shoving you hard down against your soft bed, maneuvering your body around so he could slot himself between your thighs where he belongs. His hand fell between your bodies, carelessly tugging the hem of his boxers down just enough to let himself spring free, not caring to grab a condom in his haste. He quickly uses two fingers to tug your underwear aside before sinking into fully in one thrust, a broken, strangled sigh escaping his lips as he immediately sets a slow pace. His gorgeous blue eyes flutter shut above you causing a wide, triumphant smile to to grow across your face.
“Yeah I am not gon’ last long, fuck.” He whines, dropping his head to groan against the flesh of your neck. Your hands find hold on his shoulders as you dig your nails into his back, marking him and holding on to your release as it builds for the first time in days. His lips latch onto your skin forcing you to moan his name, his pace picks up while he pushes himself up on one hand beside your head wanting to watch your face when you come undone for him. His free hand runs it’s way down your side to grip your hip and hold you steady while he thrusts into you. You can feel him against you as you clench around him, earning a strangled mix between a moan and a groan from JJ’s throat, his thrusts stuttering slightly before he regains his composure. You can feel how close he is, his tip hitting just the right spot every time but becoming frantic while his mumbled words become slightly incoherent.
“If you let me cum inside I’ll buy you Plan B.” JJ huffed out above you, his eyebrows crinkling in concentration, trying to hold himself back, his blue eyes getting lost in yours again. He didn’t want to pull out, he had edged himself too much and he didn’t want to risk doing it again. His eyes fell to where you connected, watching the way his dick thrusted in and out of you making a mess on the sheets below. You sucked him in so perfectly that he wanted to stay inside forever.
“No shit, I know you will.” Your fingers melt into his hair, tugging his eyes back up to yours while you speak, “You can cum in me whenever you want Jay.” Your moan mingles with your words, accentuated by his final, hardest thrust before he stutters and twitches inside of you, collapsing on top pf you while his warm cum fills you and leaks past him onto the bed.
Your nails tickle against his back, your other hand playing with his hair, content while you stay connected as your breathing comes back to normal. JJ’s face rests in your neck, his breath fanning your skin as he wraps his arms around you fully. “I may have only lasted 12 days Mama, but I won us 40 bucks.”
“Okayyy but 12 days is still impressive for us,” You respond with a chuckle, tugging his hair to force eye contact with you, “It could have been day one Jay ya’ know.” He groans, his eyes fluttering shut again as his hands begin to run their way up his shirt you so often wear to bed, pinching at your hardening nipples and watching your eyebrows furrow in response.
“Round two?” JJ asks, biting at his lip and staring up at you with desperate eyes. You can feel his cock beginning to harden inside of you, your walls tightening around him at the feeling.
“Well you did say I could ride you Daddy.” Your voice comes out in a beg and you watch JJ’s face as it changes into a dominant scowl despite your growing smile. His jaw ticks and his tongue pushes his cheek out slightly at your words. JJ shoves himself off of you leaving you feeling empty while he settles on his knees. His dick bounces proudly in front of him as he tugs your panties down your legs before ridding himself of his own. You waste no time in removing your shirt and watching his mouth water at the sight of your bare chest as you tug yourself impatiently onto his lap.
You sink onto him, filling yourself up again with a sigh as his cock hits every spot perfectly. You bounce on him, setting a steady pace that your thighs can handle. JJ however, knows how much of a pillow princess you are, preemptively dragging his hands down your sides and to your hips, squeezing them lightly to let you know he can take over whenever you want. Your lips crash into JJ’s in a messy kiss, your tongues battle as your breath mixes. Moaning in each other’s mouths while your hands find perch on his shoulders.
JJ’s lips fall to your jaw, groaning into his kisses, nipping at your neck every time you speed up or slow down. You whine in his ear, your fingers finding his hair and tugging at it as you slow, telling him to take control of you completely. JJ’s wicked smirk widens, his hands tightening on your hips, his lips falling to suck your nipple into his mouth and swirl his tongue against it. His finger nails dig into your flesh as he starts to bounce you against his thighs, making you whine and grind into him further. “Faster Jay please.”
“You like that Princess?” JJ teases, his hands on your hips guiding you up and down his cock at a faster pace, “Do you like ridin’ Papa Jay Sweetheart?” He coos, tilting his head to watch you bounce on him, matching the pace he set as he thrusts up into you.
————
I think JJ is definitely the typa guy who talks ab himself in the 3rd person during sex😂
Idk how yall feel about Papa Jay but😮💨😮💨
#smut#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#outer banks smut#jj outer banks#outer banks#obx smut#jj maybank#rudy pankow#obx season 4#obx#jj maybank fic#obx one shot#yn#jj maybank x yn#jj maybank x kook!reader
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୨୧ POMEGRANATE
𝝑𝝔 son of Hades!Chris x mortal!fem!reader
𝝑𝝔 cw : forced marriage, coercion, kidnapping, Hades is an asshole, Chris isn't an asshole, Soft!Dom!Chris, Sub!Reader, daddy kink, dd/lg, fingering (r. rec), innocence kink, oral (r. rec), spanking, oral fixation, inexperienced! reader, d/s dynamics, age play (not super extreme), p in v, creampie (use protection!!), pussy spanking, pet names, degrading kink, praise kink, bulge kink, lmk if I missed anything!!
𝝑𝝔 hyung line Greek gods m.list | maknae line Greek gods m.list
You were always too busy to think about having boyfriends and sex and things that were normal for women of your age. You never thought it was weird how you avoided romance, even in your teenage years. You thought romance was stupid, and it would just get in the way of your goals.
You busted your ass to graduate valedictorian in college, countless sleepless nights and study sessions is what your life consisted of for four whole years.
You reminisced about your hard work every single day that you worked this stupid low level job. You worked for the largest construction company in the country, Erebus Construction Enterprises. It was owned by one of the wealthiest families in the nation, the Bahngs, the oldest son of the family being the current CEO and his father being the head chairman of the company.
"Y/n," your coworker snaps you out of your trance, "hey, there you are, the team was going to go get drinks tonight? Do you wanna join?"
"No thanks," you reject, "I have a project I have to complete."
Your coworker gives you a look of sympathy before grabbing her coat and clocking out.
You refocus on your project as the desks next to you become empty, workers clocking out, hoping to enjoy their long weekend. Not you though, you still had to finish typing up a paper for the marketing team and make a slideshow for the next accounting meeting.
Hours passed by as you kept typing on your computer. "You know work hours ended-," a voice begins, you snap your head up to look at the man who said it, you find a man in an all black uniform staring at you, he checks his watch, "- five hours ago," the man finishes.
"I'm just finishing up a paper and a slideshow for a meeting we have next Tuesday," you explain to the man.
You take a moment to stretch, leaning back in your rolling chair. "Your name is?" the man asks.
"Y/n Y/l/n," you introduce yourself.
"Ah, just wanted to be sure," the man says.
It takes you a moment to register what he said and reply with, "wait what do you mean?"
"Follow me," he instructs.
When you don't follow after him he stops in his tracks, approaches you again and gives you a stern warning, "you should do what you're told, now come," he grabs your arm.
He drags you out into the hallway and the more you try to squirm and get away from him, the tighter his grip on your hand is. He pulls you into the elevator and presses one of the red buttons on the bottom.
You watch as the sign on the elevator changes from 'elevator' to 'hellevator'. "You might want to hold onto something," the man in black warns.
"Wha-" you begin.
Suddenly you're falling, well the elevator is falling. You scream as it plummets down. You don't know where it's taking you but your stomach sinks more every second you're falling.
Suddenly the elevator halts, and you have no time to brace yourself as you hit the floor. "Don't say I didn't warn you," the man chuckles lowly.
"What the fuck!" you scream, "what the fuck is this place!?"
"It's just hell, honey," he says the answer like it's obvious.
"What?" You look at him with shock and disbelief.
The elevator dings before the doors swing open, "don't go to the basement unless you want to meet Cerberus," the man gives a final warning before grabbing your purse and pulling out a quarter, "there that covers your fine," he hands me back my bag.
"My fine?" You question.
"You just crossed the River Styx, honey, I'm the ferryman," he says it like it's obvious.
You are given no warning before he pushes you out of the elevator, you try to run back inside, but the doors close before you can. You slide against the wall and cry.
You were in hell?
But why?
Ferryman? Cerberus? Like in Greek mythology, the spirit who helps the dead cross the River Styx, and the giant three-headed dog?
Your head fell into your hands and you tried to make sense of the whole situation. A tap on your shoulder causes you to look up, "please- just let me go home!" you plead through a sob.
The woman in front of you holds out her hand for you to take, when you don't take it she grabs your hand and pulls you with her.
She pulls you into a large dining room, the table is set with a collection of magnificent foods, there are four seats, none of them are full.
All of the windows are covered with curtains and the only light source in the room comes from the many candles scattered around the room.
The woman pulls you to one of the seats, and makes you sit down on the leather surface. "Who are you? Let me go!" you try and push the woman off you.
"Tch tch tch, silly girl," a deep voice scolds, "she's dead, she can't speak."
You look to find where the voice comes from, you find the man who spoke standing in a doorway. He wore a simple back suit with perfectly polished leather shoes and a clean haircut.
"Servant," he calls to the woman holding your wrist, "go fetch Chris and Persephone."
The woman bows to the man and lets go of your wrist before leaving out the door she brought you through. "Y/n Y/l/n," he says your name.
He crosses the space from the doorway to the seat directly in front of the one you were sat in. "Who-what are you?" you stutter.
"Well you could call me the devil, but I am not nearly as evil as him," he looks at you like you should know this like it is obvious and you should've known all along, "did the Ferryman not explain to you where you were?" he asks as he takes off the black blazer, placing it on the back of his chair.
"He just said we crossed the River Styx," you recall to the man.
"I see, still-," he pauses and opens a bottle of what looks like red wine before pouring it into one of the wine glasses, "you're a very intelligent young lady, I assume you realized where you were on your own."
"Why am I here?" I ask the man.
"Well it's a really long story, it started off with my nephew, he was given a message for me by these three old hags- that are referred to as the Fates. So being the messenger God and all, my nephew- Hermes- brought their letter to me," he takes a sip of the win before he continues, "imagine my surprise when that letter tells me the name of my eldest son's fated wife, and it turns out being your name. One of the new accounting hires," he man cocks his head.
"Y-you know me?" you mutter.
He hears you clearly though, "I know of every soul to exist, yes I know of you."
"W-why is this happening?" you inquire.
The man sighs, "like I said, you're fated to marry my oldest son," he replies.
"I-I c-can't be," you choke out, trying not to sob.
"Well unfortunately for you, you are," the man says dryly.
"S-so you're the devil?" I ask.
The man smirks, "Hades actually, Satan works in Tartarus exclusively," he explains.
"Hello darling," a woman says from the doorway.
She is utterly stunning, a small frame and dark brown eyes with red rosy cheeks and plump lips. "Hello Persephone," the man-Hades-greets.
The woman walks to your seat and wraps her arms around you, "hello y/n," she says as she hugs you tenderly.
Your words are caught in the back of your throat, "P-persephone?" you somehow are able to mumble.
"That's me, dear," she breaks away from you and walks to the other side of the table, sliding into the seat next to Hades.
"Where's Chris?" Hades asks her.
"He's in one of his moods, you know he doesn't want to do this, darling," Persephone says softly.
Hades rolls his eyes and whistles, within a millisecond a large wolf with red eyes is sitting beside your chair, "go get Chris," Hades tells the ferocious looking dog.
The dog trots away, out the doorway. "Oh, y/n dear, help yourself to the food," Persephone says gently.
You look at the meal prepared on the table in front of you. "B-but I d-don't want to have to stay here like you do," you confess to the woman.
"Don't worry about that dear, besides that whole myth is just a lie, Hades didn't force me to live down here," Persephone calmly corrected.
"Yeah, but he coerced you, I read the story, you were kidnapped by him and Zeus and they brought you down here and you accidentally ate a pomegranate and now you have to stay down here for 3 months every year," you clear your throat then continue, "and those 3 months are known as winter because your mother, Demeter, won't tend to the crops, that's why they all die."
"You haven't the slightest idea of what truly happened," Persephone says firmly, "I chose to stay with Hades on my own volition, winter happens because my mother takes a break during those three months. And Hades and his brother never kidnapped me."
Your mouth falls slightly agape as you listen to her.
"Oh," you say when she finishes talking.
"Yeah," she clears her throat.
"Dad, I told you," a voice comes from the doorway, you turn to look at the man, he was handsome, with dark hair and dark eyes, "I'm not doing this," he continues.
"You don't have a choice," Hades tells him, "now, sit."
The man reluctantly takes the seat next to you, and gives you a quick glance. "Y/n you really should eat," Persephone insists, "it's very good."
"Do you promise me that if I eat I won't be stuck here for forever," you ask her.
"You won't be stuck here forever," she promises.
You hesitantly reach across the table and grab a serving of the food, putting it on your plate and taking a small bite.
The food was delicious, the best you've had in your life. "It's good isn't it?" Persephone asks.
"The best," you compliment.
"Well, Chris, aren't you going to say anything to her?" Hades asks the man next to you.
"Yeah," he sighs, "I don't want to get married."
Hades' first slams onto the table, "Chris that is enough. You know your fate, she knows hers. There is not a choice in this matter," his voice booms.
Persephone gently rubs circles on Hades' shoulder, trying to calm him. "Y/n," she begins, "once dinner is over, you and Chris will be going back to his house, it's just a short boat ride away, if you would like anything you can write to Hephaestus," she explains.
"What about my apartment? And my job?" you ask.
"This is your home now," Hades says, rubbing his temple, "you can visit Earth anytime you like, but you must come back here before dark."
A clock on the wall chimes ten times, "well it is time for you two to go," Hades instructs Chris and you.
Chris sits up and looks at you before extending his hand for you to take. He senses your caution and smiles at you, trying to make you feel more calm.
"Go with him now, y/n, or else," Hades warns.
You hesitantly take his hand and he swiftly leads you out of the dining room and through the house, he opens the front door and steps out with you, the same man that brought you down here is standing on a boat that is floating in that is floating on a glowing surface.
Chris lifts you up onto the boat before climbing in himself. "Where to?" the ferryman asks.
"666 Hellside lane," Chris says to the man.
Chris pulls a coin out of his pocket and hands it to the man. The ferryman begins rowing the boat and you and Chris just stand in silence.
You take in the scenery, large pits of fire with people burning in them next to large pits with meadows and people running around happily. You look into the large pit of fire, seeing the pain and agony on the people's faces as they burn, you reach out for them, wanting to help but a firm grasp on your extended wrist stops you from being able to reach them. "Don't," Chris warns.
"They're suffering," you try to plead with him, pleading for people you don't even know.
"And for a good fucking reason, they lived evil lives," Chris explains.
"B-but they were still just people," you swallow the lump in your throat.
"Bad people," Chris reminds you, "the morals of your world don't always apply down here, but I know for a fact that all the souls in that burning pit deserve to be down there, burning."
You blink at the man, "is that where I'll go? Will you send me there?"
"Never," he replies immediately, "in no reality would I make you suffer like them."
"W-would your father s-send me there?" you ask with teary eyes at the thought.
Chris gently cups your face, "don't worry about my father, I won't let him hurt you."
You nod and Chris wipes a tear that had fallen with his thumb.
The boat stopped and Chris got off first, he lifted you up and helped you down off the boat afterwards. You looked up at the large house in front of you. Ornate and beautiful on the outside. Chris opened the front door and you walked in before he closed the door behind the two of you.
The living room was magnificent, high ceilings with stained glass windows, a large couch in the middle and a fireplace across from it. "Woah," you gawk.
After a moment of silence, Chris speaks, "your room is down there," he points down the hallway with one door at the end.
"My room?" you ask.
"Yeah," he says softly, "all yours," he smiles.
"B-but what about you?" you ask.
"My room is upstairs, it's the first room on the right," he informs.
"Oh," you say.
"Yeah, just make yourself comfortable and if there's anything you need, I'll just be in my room or in my office," he explains softly.
He starts to walk away, "wait!" you call to him, he turns around and looks at you, "my cats, Cookie a-and Oreo- they're still on Earth, I-I don't want them to be lonely or g-go hungry," you tell him.
"I'll go get them for you," he instantly replies.
"They can come down here?" you ask enthusiastically.
Chris walks to you and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, "of course they can, I do have a dog though, but she's really friendly, her name is Berry, she's probably playing outside," he tells you, "I'll go and get your cats and bring them back here."
"O-okay, t-thank you," you thank him.
He smiles softly and leaves out the front door. You stand there for a moment, not knowing what to do with yourself, before you decide to check out your bedroom.
You open the door and look around, it looked similar to your bedroom back on Earth. You opened one of the doors in the room to see a huge walk in closet. Multiple floors tall and full of any types of clothes you could think of.
You open another door to see a whole on-suite bathroom. With a huge shower and a jacuzzi tub.
You walk back into the closet, looking for a pair of pajamas. You find a key pad with many buttons, you cautiously press the button that says 'sleepwear' and the closet starts to move around.
The many racks of clothing shuffle around for a moment before the sliding doors open, revealing all kinds of pajamas.
You opt for a blue matching silk pajama set, you slip the clothes on and decide to look around the house that was now yours. You opened one of the large doors that lead to a large grassy area that was fenced in with a metal gate. You take a seat on the back porch, close your eyes, and try to wrap your mind around the day you had.
You hear a dog bark beside you and you open your eyes to see a dog with three heads staring at you. Your first reaction is to scream, not used to the supernatural sight. But one of the dog's heads starts licking your face, making you burst into a fit of laughter.
You sit up and look at the small dog, you look at the large collar around it's neck and read the name. "Berry," you say the dog's name out loud.
The dog perks up and jumps into your lap, "hi, Berry," you coo, "aren't you gorgeous," you say as you pet her.
You sit with the three-headed dog until you hear the back door open, Chris leaning against the door frame carrying your two cats, one in each hand.
Berry rushes to Chris' side, her tail wagging a mile a minute.
You sit up and walk to Chris, gently taking your cat, Oreo, from his arms, give Oreo a kiss and gently pet him. "Thank you," you thank Chris again.
"Don't mention it," he smiles.
You step inside and Chris closes the door behind the two of you. You put Oreo down on the ground and Berry begins sniffing the black and white cat. You turn back to Chris and he hands you your Tortoiseshell cat, Cookie.
You kiss Cookie before you put her on the ground, Berry sniffing her now as well. "You really aren't like your dad," you figure, talking about Chris.
"I hope I'm not," he chuckles lowly, he brushes a strand of hair out of your face, "you should get some sleep," he suggests, "we can talk more in the morning okay?"
He walks you to your room, "wake me up if you ever need anything," he says softly.
You step into your room and Chris closes the door. You hear his footsteps as he walks away from the door.
You did try to sleep, you really did. But you found yourself tossing and turning on the large bed rather than sleeping.
You contemplate waking Chris up for a good ten minutes before deciding you would just watch something on the TV in the living room.
You sat up and walked into the living room, you sat on the large, black, leather couch and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV.
You flipped through channels until you settled on a random channel in a random language you couldn't understand.
"Y/n?" you hear Chris' voice.
You watch the man as he walks down a pair of stairs, rubbing his eyes, wearing nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants and a pair of red slippers.
"What're you doing up?" he asks softly.
"C-couldn't sleep," you explain quietly.
"O-oh," he hums, walking back up to his bedroom.
Eventually you passed out on the couch, waking up from a nightmare. It took you a moment to fully realize where you were, but you ruled out the fact that you just had a bad dream when you looked around the ornate living room, remembering all that had happened.
A knock on the door made you snap your head up. You hesitantly walk to the door, opening it to reveal Persephone along with a group of servants. "Oh, hello honey!" she muses before stepping into the house as if it was hers.
"W-what are you doing here?" you ask in the most polite way you can.
"Well it's your wedding day!" she announces like it's obvious.
"M-my wh-what?"
"Oh dear, don't play dumb! C'mon we need to get you fitted for a dress," she hums.
She drags you by your arm to your room before practically pulling your clothes off, only leaving you in your underwear. You try to cover yourself but she is swatting your hands away as the servants begin taking your measurements with measuring tapes. "Do you like the color black?" Persephone asks as a servant shows her different fabrics and colors.
"I-I-it's okay?"
"And do you like glitter?"
"N-not really."
"Dear," she scolds, "you should be serious about this, we have the Christian Dior working on this."
"Christian Dior?"
"Yes the owner and founder of Dior-"
"I know who Christian Dior is b-but why?"
"Well your wedding should be perfect!" she exclaims.
"Mom," Chris' voice comes from the door to your room.
"You're not supposed to see each other before the ceremony!" Persephone whines.
"I understand you're excited, but go easy on y/n m'kay? She is scared," he points out and looks at you.
"Oh, c'mon it's just marriage!"
"Mom," he says more firmly, "it's marriage."
"Oh fine," Persephone huffs, "y/n what are your favorite flowers by the way? My brother is going to make us some!"
"Felix is coming?" Chris asks.
"All of Olympus is coming!" Persephone cackles.
"Olympus!" you shriek, "I'm going to pass out!"
Chris lunges forward to support you and keep you standing while his mother and her servants are whispering and talking amongst themselves. "Here, let's get you in some clothes," Chris figures.
If you were naive you would think he's being kind, but honestly you don't know if you can afford to be naive at the moment.
Chris walks to the closet and grabs a pair of clothes and hands them to you. You swiftly pull them on before Persephone is grabbing your hand and pulling you into a seat. One of her servants pulling out a makeup bag and slapping a primer on your skin. "Chris!" An unfamiliar voice calls.
You turn your head to see a blonde boy with freckles standing in the doorway calling to your soon to be husband. "Felix, hey man," Chris says, embracing the man-Felix.
"Oh hey, you must be y/n! Nice to meet you! I'm Demeter's son! Gosh it is scorching down here!" he exclaims and fans himself with his hand.
"Well it's almost like it's hell," you retort.
"Well yeah, dear Zeus, Persephone how can you love someone so much to stay down here for as long as you do!" he exclaims.
"Well you know how much I love Hades," she chuckles to her brother.
You sit still as the servants begin styling your hair and applying your makeup.
"Is Zeus coming?" Chris asks.
"No! Silly! He is far too busy! But he's sending Hyunjin on his behalf," Persephone announces.
"Persephone, the dress is done!" one of the servants says.
"Oh lovely! Y/n look at this! Isn't it stunning!" Persephone calls and shows you the large black ballgown dress.
"Y-yeah, beautiful," you shrug as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.
"It's so beautiful she's crying isn't that sweet!" Persephone proclaims.
You feel so claustrophobic in the room, as you try to bite down your tears. "Mom," Chris starts, "she is crying because she doesn't want to do this."
"Christopher!" Persephone shouts, "she will deal with it! As will you! This is destiny!"
"You don't have to like your destiny!" Chris' voice booms.
You can't help but mentally compare him to his father, they yell the same way. Chris has a better temper but they both can hate the same way.
"Ok," Felix breaks the tension, "Seph why don't you go and get ready I'll watch over them."
Your eyes go wide as you watch Persephone leave the room in a huff. "Sorry you had to hear that y/n," Felix apologizes for his sister and his nephew, "they both have quite a temper."
You turn your head back and wait until the servants finished your makeup and hair.
Chris and Felix eventually left when it was time for you to put on the wedding dress, saying they'd meet you at the venue.
You slipped on the dress in silence and one of the servants tightened the corset on the back.
The boat ride to the venue was silent, only thanking the ferryman and handing him a silver coin when he dropped you off.
"Hi my dear," an old woman greets you at the gate of the garden you were dropped off at, "my name is Clotho, I'm one of the Fates, my sisters are busy today but they give you and Chris their blessing!"
"Please tell Lachesis to cut my time short, I don't want to do this," you plead to the old woman.
"Dear," she coughs, "you'll be immortal once you marry him, it's not like she can do anything."
"I would rather die," you comment.
"I shouldn't tell you your fate, but you do fall in love with him, may as well let it happen," she whispers to you.
Your eyes widen in shock and she holds your hand walking you down the aisle in the garden.
A piano playing a tune in the background as you walk down the aisle with the woman.
Chris is waiting at the end of the aisle and you see Hades standing at the center.
You cry as you stand up there and Hades pronounces you married. Not wanting this to be your fate.
"You may kiss the bride," Hades instructs Chris.
Chris rolls his eyes before gently cupping your face and bringing you in for a kiss that lasts only a second.
You sob on the boat ride back to your house, mascara running down your face. You run to your bedroom and cry into the pillows. Crying until you feel like throwing up.
You had been living in the same house as Chris for a few days, and you finally were able to sleep in your bed at night.
A knock on your door is what woke you up, you sat up and rubbed your eyes while the door creaked open, "y/n," Chris calls out to you.
"Mhm," you grunt sleepily.
"Hey, I got you a present," he explains.
You rise up out of bed and let Chris lead you to where the present is. He has you sit down on the couch and close your eyes and you feel a weight being put on your extended hands. "Okay, you can open your eyes now," Chris says.
You slowly open your eyes and look at the box in your hands, you look up at him before you open the pretty black box. You look at the ticket stubs for a moment, and read the text. Concert tickets, for your favorite band.
"D'you like them? I don't want this marriage as much as you, but I figured a wedding gift wouldn't hurt that much?" Chris asks.
"Like them? Chris-" the words are caught in your throat, "I love them," you smile.
"I-I got you two, that way you can go with one of your friends on earth," he grins.
"I- thank you," you thank him, you throw your arms around him in a warm embrace.
"Of course, y/n, anything to make you feel a bit better," he says dutifully.
Chris showed you over and over again that he would give you anything and everything your heart would desire.
From making a whole art studio in your shared house because you once mentioned that you liked painting during a dinner conversation.
To giving you a phone so you could talk to your friends who were on Earth.
There was no doubt, he cared for you. And you couldn't help but care for him as well.
"Guess who," you peek your head into Chris' office.
He was sitting at his desk with papers laid out over the surface.
"Hey, sweet girl," he hums when he sees you.
He motions you over and you obey, he taps his thigh for you to sit on, and you do. His arm rests on your waist, and you watch as he works. "What'cha doin?" you ask him.
"Finishing up some paperwork for the company," he explains, "did you need anything, honey?" he asks.
You shake your head, "no, jus' wanted to be close to you," you confess.
Chris cocks a brow, "yeah?" he coos gently.
You nod, "yeah, I like being around you."
A smile breaks out onto his face and he turns his full attention to you. "I like being around you too," he confesses.
Later that night you find yourself in your bed, staring up at the ceiling.
You felt hot all over as you thought about Chris, how caring he was, how handsome he was, how dominant he was.
You hadn't felt that way before, what were you supposed to do? That was the first night you felt the intense wanting for Chris. And it certainly wasn't your last.
Every night for the next week you'd think of Chris, you would feel tingly all over, to the point where it drove you crazy. You didn't know what to do with this feeling that was coming from your cunt.
You knock on the door to Chris' bedroom, you hear footsteps before Chris opens up the door, "honey, hey what's going on?" he asks when he sees the tears in your eyes, concern laced in his voice.
"I feel weird," you sniffle.
"Oh, sweet girl," he coos, he gently pulls you into his room and pulls you onto his chest, "tell me what's going on?" he requests.
"I just keep feeling weird, a-and I d-dunno what t'do," you confess.
"Feel weird where?" he inquires.
Your face goes red and you whisper to him, "my- y'know."
He looks at you for a moment before breaking out into a fit of laughter, you swat at him, "I'm being serious!" you whine.
"You haven't like-" he pauses, "masturbated before?"
You shake your head no, and watch as his face breaks out into a look of realization. You tuck your head into his chest as blush creeps onto your face. "Hey, shh, it's okay honey, don't be embarrassed," Chan reassures.
He tilts your chin up so you're looking at him, "whatever you want, I'll give it to you," he hums, his thumb gently caressing your chin.
"Daddy," the words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself.
Chris groans before pulling you in for a gentle kiss, he quickly pulls away before looking in your eyes again. He only looks at you momentarily before pulling you back in for another, more heated, kiss.
That night Chris watched as you touched yourself, gently talking you through the new feelings and watching as you writhed around on his bed from the pleasure.
You heard the front door open and sprung up from your place on the couch to see Chris walk inside. He had just gotten back from work. He looked exhausted from the day's activities. "Chri-" you begin but he cuts you off by crossing the space between the two of you and slamming his lips onto yours.
"Daddy-" you mumble against his lips.
"Hmm?" Chris hums.
"Wanna help you relax," you mutter.
"Just let me kiss you honey," he insists, "let me give you special kisses."
"Special kisses?"
"Yeah," he hums, he pulls your pants down without warning.
Staring at your cunt, he gently kisses your mound over your panties. "I'm the only one who can kiss you here, you understand?" he growls.
"Yes," you whine.
Chris pulls your panties to the side before placing a tender kiss on your clit.
You moan and your fingers run through his hair, "that's a good girl," Chris hums.
You feel two of his fingers press into your entrance and you squirm around due to the unfamiliar sensation. "Daddy," you whine.
Chris' plump lips keep sucking on your clit while one of his fingers pistons in and out of your cunt. One finger turns into two, two into three, until you're gushing all over his face without a chance to warn him.
"That's it," he coos, "such a sweet little pussy," he groans, fingering you through your orgasm.
He places a kiss above your mound before slapping your pussy. You jolt at the contact and watch as Chris sits up and pulls his pants down.
"Here you go honey, gonna give you a treat for being a good little girl for me," he muses.
He strokes his fat cock in front of you before lining it up at your soaking entrance. "Daddy-" you whine.
"Daddy's here, don't worry babydoll," he hums as he pushes into you.
You squirm around as you feel more and more of his cock enter you. "That's it, take it like the slut that you are," Chris spits.
The only thing leaving your mouth at this point is broken cries of Chris' title. Chris sets a menacingly fast pace, pounding into you with your legs thrown over his shoulders.
You feel as his hands run down your stomach, stopping on your lower tummy, "I can fucking feel myself inside you," Chris comments.
You move your hand down and feel the area where his cock is bulging in and out of you. "Oh my god!" you scream as you cum around him.
"That's it, atta girl," he praises, "let me fill you up, let daddy pump a baby into his sweet little girl."
"Yes," you whine, "f-fuck a baby into me w-wan' you t'fill me up please!" you beg.
Chris' movements become sporadic and you start to feel his hot cum seeping into you. He keeps fucking into you as he cums, making sure you take each last drop of his seed.
Honestly, hell wasn't even hotter than Christopher Bahng.
#bun.writes#bunwritesskz#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz#stray kids x you#skz x reader#stray kids#bang chan smut#christopher bang#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan fluff#bangchan x reader#buns.skzgreekgod!au#bun.writes : channie
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In Front of Me (Teaser)
⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriend to lovers, angst, smut (18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: TBA (this teaser: 679) ⊹ release date: TBA
⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time. ⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, bestfriends to lovers (?), unrequted love, emotionaly stunted charcters, wonwoo has a bit of an ego, toxic!wonwoo&reader. (more tags and smut tag added to full fic when posted.) ⊹ note: im really excited to share this with you all. its not by any means done but heres a teaser for now since ive been away for so long ♡ also the teaser is not edited so pls just ignore if theres typos hehe. lov u all pls come into my ask box cuz i refuse to shut up abt this story :p.
⊹ masterlist, taglist, fic playlist.
Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.
Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the break up, to lose feelings first, every decision was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling.
Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up to your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been.
Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his bestfriend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it.
{໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆˙}
Less than fourty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence is perfectly normal, then maybe, you would eventually end up answering him.
12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?
Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them?
1:27 p.m. [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁
Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond.
2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u. [1 photo attachment]
Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.
4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today?
The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he had witnessed.
4:30 p.m. [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw.
Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin of all people solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back.
Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he can keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.
⊹ a/n: if u want to be apart of the taglist please fill out the form, comment or send an ask! please note that i'll only add those who have an age indicator somewhere in their blog! thank you ♡
#jeon wonwoo#svthub#thediamondlifenetwork#Hiraya-M#seventeen smut#seventeen fic#wonwoo smut#wonwoo fic#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#wonwoo fanfic#svt fic#svt smut#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#seventeen wonwoo#seventeen drabbles#seventeen x reader#wonwoo x reader#seventeen x you#svt x you#wonwoo x you#wonustars ✧ ゚. {fics: in front of me}
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Are you a Tankie?? Do you think the USSR was a good nation? Do you maybe even defend Stalin somewhat, not just Lenin? Do you support Mao or ''commuist" nations in the modern age like China or North Korea? I think Commuism is a good ideology, but anytime it's been attempted alongside a government, it's been used as an excuse to control and oppress people. I think it can only work feasibly under anarchy because a government will never release control of its citizens.
I used to be an anarchist myself. I'm not going to say there's some magic phrase that will convince you to become a "tankie" like me, but I will say that if you haven't read some of the core works by Marx, Engels, or Lenin, you should give them a try sometime. "State and Revolution" especially. There is no magic "abolish the state" button that can be pressed to do away with all authority in one stroke. The material conditions must be changed first before the state can disappear.
I would also recommend checking out Pat Sloan's "Soviet Democracy", and pretty much anything by Anna Louise Strong but especially The Soviets Expected It, The Stalin Era, and In North Korea. On the subject of North Korea, you should also watch the democracy "Loyal Citizens of Pyongyang in Seoul".
There is a lot of propaganda surrounding actually existing socialism in the West, and it is important to separate truth from fiction. People do not fight in revolutions only to turn around and accept new oppressors. Every currently existing socialist state is democratic, and that includes the DPRK. Democratic does not mean ideal, but it does mean that people have a say in who is running the government. Even more than that, in every existing socialist state the people have the right to recall elected officials at any time, something which is not guaranteed in most bourgeois democracies, including the US.
Can you imagine members of the ruling party meeting with the people directly on a regular basis to discuss and debate the issues that matter most to the people in the US or any other bourgeois democracy? Can you imagine government officials whose top priority is the material welfare of the most disadvantaged citizens? You look at government meetings in China, in Cuba, in Vietnam, in Laos, and in North Korea, and that is what you see time and time again. That is the crux of politics in these countries, the material conditions of the people and how to improve them. They are dictatorships of the proletariat and thus the proletariat are the class for which the state exists to benefit.
Finally, you should read the 1986 paper "Capitalism, socialism, and the physical quality of life" by Cereseto & Waitzkin. While it is nearly 40 years old, it used World Bank data (clearly not a source biased in favor of communism) to demonstrate how on average socialist economies outperformed capitalist ones at similar levels of economic development in terms of actual material conditions for the average citizen. Being 40 years old, it also has the advantage of comparing data at a time when the number of socialist nations was at its highest. If you want to see more recent examinations that take a similar approach, you should read any papers by the economist Jason Hickel, but especially his 2016 paper "The true extent of global poverty and hunger", where he demonstrates that capitalism has by and large failed to improve material conditions outside the imperial core, and that the only nations that buck the trend in the developing world are the ones who have rejected neoliberal economic policy, most notably China, whose socialist economy has been responsible for the vast majority of people lifted out of poverty in the last decades.
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