#he was simply vibing and Unbothered

[eddieintheocean]

GUESS WHOS AN OCEAN DIVER NOWWWWWWWW

[ashasdiary]

Sukuna's Aversion to Toys

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader Synopsis: Sukuna really doesn't like your toys. CW: trueform!sukuna, sexual themes, fire WC: 437

“What the hell?” You stop in your tracks when you step into your living room and find Sukuna tossing your sex toys, one by one, into the fireplace. 

He looks up at you briefly, all four eyes looking unbothered, before he returns his gaze to the task at hand. “Evening.”

His nonchalance irks you, especially as he’s tossing your beloved rose into the fire. “Sukuna!”

“Woman,” he quips, not looking at you. 

You let out an exasperated sound as he watches with satisfaction how the silicone melts in the fire. You hold your hands up in question. “Why are you— why are you using my toys as firewood?!”

“I would have burnt them with my own hands but I exercised a great deal of mindfulness to that white contraption in your kitchen,” he responds coolly and juts his chin over to the ceiling of the open plan kitchen. 

You turn and look and then turn back to him. “The smoke alarm?” 

He hums in agreement, “Yes. That. It is quite a pointless device, I think, and m—” but you cut him off. 

“Allow me to rephrase, just why are you burning my toys?” Your brows knit together in annoyance. 

“Fool. For what reason do you need these silly, childish contraptions when you have the presence of me?” He snaps, shooting you an incredulous look. 

You can’t believe this. The king of curses…jealous? Of a few sex toys? You cross your arms over your chest. “I’ll have you know, I had all of those before we met!”

“And? Why keep them in your possession?” He presses, red eyes shining. 

“Wh…Sukuna. Please, be serious,” you sigh. 

“I am.” He deadpans, “Deadly.”

“Me having toys before I met you really shouldn’t be an issue,” you rage, stomping over to him and grabbing the bullet that was in his hand. But he doesn’t let go.

“It is. Having me should suffice,” he shrugs and maintains his grip on the vibe. 

“Who said having you was not sufficient?!” You bite back. 

“Keeping these damned things implies just that, brat. It is simply greedy that you have me in this form, with twice the number of everything, yet…you still keep these ridiculous gadgets.” He takes the bullet back and throws it into the flames. 

You let out a small scoff as you watch him. “Heaven forbid a girl have possessions,” you huff, “and what when you’re away? How am I supposed to satisfy myself then?” 

He stands and faces you, feeding the last one to the flames with a toss over his shoulder. 

“Simple. You do not.”

Do not copy or translate my work. © ashasdiary, all rights reserved.

Divider by cafekitsune

[formulawolff]

jealousy, jealousy - t.w.

pairing: fem!reader x dbf! toto wolff

word count: 2.1k

warnings: age gap, smut (oral - male receiving!), questionable power dynamics, cursing, vague toxic vibes from toto, allusions to sex, slight choking, poorly translated german, dominating vibes from toto for sure, writer has no idea how university in europe works, dad's best friend! trope, reader is lowkey a little brat, dirty talk, yadayadayada

a/n: here is the highly anticipated second part of sunbathing! and yes, it is loosely based off of jealousy, jealousy by olivia rodrigo. i hope y’all enjoy this just as much as the first part! <3

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚

no matter how hard you tried to shake it, it lingered.

it was always present, nagging away, gnawing at you. nearly consuming you whole.

it kept you awake at night as you tossed and turned, your mind wandering, wondering what could have been.

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚

what could have happened if the two of you were alone that day. how he could have made you feel. how he could have fulfilled every single one of your sleazy, dirty, downright sinful fantasies.

how he could have fucked you like the whore you were for him, aching for some sort of relief from the fiery desire burning within.

you were desperate. desperate to replicate the way he touched you that day. desperate to hear that sickeningly sweet lust dripping in his words. desperate to squirm under his intense gaze, his mocha depths picking you apart.

no toy in your nightstand drawer even came close. there was no porno that could even recreate the memory. there was nothing that could satisfy the craving.

the craving to feel toto wolff spread you open and tear you apart.

ever since that summer afternoon, you maintained your distance. you stayed as far away as possible, ensuring that you remained upstairs whenever he came over for a couple drinks. you would purposefully only pop into your dad's office if you knew toto was out. there was one morning where you fibbed that you had an upset stomach, just so that you didn't have to tag along for another dinner on his luxurious yacht.

of course, you didn't want to avoid him. but you knew you had to.

simply because the mere sight of him was enough to bring you to your knees.

although, missing numerous grand prixes did have it repercussions.

while your dad was in the garage, you would be at home in bed, scrolling endlessly through social media. in turn, a nasty, unsettling feeling began to bloom, only growing with each passing weekend.

and that feeling was jealousy.

to put it simply, you were envious of the girls. how they were able to prance around the paddocks every weekend, donning the latest designer clothing and sipping on the finest champagne. giggling among one another as their boyfriends zoomed past. gossiping about everything and anything, from their sex lives to which one of their manicurists perfected the glazed donut look.

you longed to be with them, to join their elite status as a formula one wag. you ached to be that it girl, strutting into the garage, unbothered as tik tok pages buzzed and tabloids raved.

yet, with the man you had in mind, you knew it wasn't attainable.

not in the slighest.

there was no world in which you would be toto wolff's girlfriend.

it simply was never going to happen.

and facing that fact? fuck, did it have you spiraling.

it left you dejected and defeated, wanting nothing to do with anything and everything related to formula one. the sport you once loved was now a stark reminder of what you could not have.

an innocent dream crushed by the harsh weight of reality.

however, your withdrawn nature did not go unnoticed. by the third or fourth weekend spent home alone, your father decided it was time to "go out and socialize!" and "keep your mom company while he was at work."

you couldn't fight it any longer, either.

you had to attend the hungarian grand prix.

whether you liked it or not.

of course, your father was oblivious. he teased you, wondering if it had something to do with that "verstappen boy" or "that chuck leclerc fellow." although he did not press, you knew that he was aware it had something to do with a boy.

well, not just any boy.

a man. a fifty-two year old man.

his best friend and boss, at that.

so, here you were, using your mother as a shield as the two of you hung out in the garage. with carmen mundt and lewis hamilton's mom, nonetheless.

"so, how is university going?"

a delicate voice floods your right ear. blinking, you realize that it was carmen trying to speak, heat flushing into your cheeks as she giggles, your mom chiming in.

"she's been a little spacey today, so you might wanna make sure her antennas are adjusted correctly."

"mom!" you hiss, eyes narrowing into slits. however, you suck in a breath, turning to carmen, "i haven't started yet, but i am excited about this semester! i have a lot of classes online, so i can work while i travel."

"that's great!" carmen gushes, her lips forming a radiant grin, "i understand how difficult working on the go can be at times, but i have full faith that you'll have another great semester. your dad informed me that you were quite the scholar."

"oh please," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "i'm not that-"

"guten tag miene damen. i hope hospitality has been treating you well!"

your breath hitches in your throat as that brassy voice fills the air, his thick accent seeping into every word.

"toto!" your mom rises to her feet, wrapping the team principal up in a tight embrace, "it's nice to see you!"

"wie ich sehe, hast du den kleinen mitgebracht," the team principal shoots you a wink, folding his arms across his chest, "it's nice to see you, again. i don't think i've spoken to you since-"

"the afternoon we went out on your yacht," you finish, heart thudding against your rib-cage as he nods, "i've been a bit busy."

"is that so?" toto arches a brow, his tongue swiping along his lower lip, "busy with school or?"

"preparing for the semester to begin," you respond, a shiver running down your spine as he maintains eye contact, "i begin my last year of university in a few months."

"very good," the team principal clicks his tongue. tilting his head ever so slightly, he shifts to your mom, "would you mind if i stole her for a few minutes? i don't think she's gotten to see the upgrades we've made to the car."

"oh please," you mom waves a hand, "you know i don't mind!"

"well," his attention floats back to you, his elbow extending, "would you like to see the car?"

"sure," you mumble, your knees nearly buckling as you stand, "as long as i'm back before the first session."

"i'll have you back in no time," giving one last wave to the women, you hesitantly accept his gesture, linking your arm with his, "you better make this quick."

"is that right?" he counters, "you can relax, you know. you don't have to be so tense."

exhaling, your shoulder droops, "sorry. just a little nervous."

"you of all people know i don't bite," as the two of you weave through the garage, he chirps greetings to members of the crew.

as he strolls through a door, you realize that you were not looking at the new cars. in fact, the cars were in various pieces, the engineers tinkering away as you passed by them minutes ago. he was leading you in the opposite direction of the garage, deep into the paddock, far away from your parents.

"the cars were in the garage you know."

toto clicks his tongue, his gaze directed toward the sprawling labyrinth of hallways and doors. his pace picks up, and for a moment, you find it a bit difficult to keep up with his lengthy strides.

yet, he doesn't speak, eventually coming to a halt in front of an office space. he pauses, shoving a hand into his pocket. fishing out a lanyard, he flashes a badge in front of a black square. at the top of the device, a light beams green, the lock turning.

his hand wraps around the handle, pushing the door open. he draws the blinds, taking a brief moment to scan his surroundings, ensuring that the two of you were completely concealed.

swallowing thickly, you shift in place. the air is still, thick with tension as toto turns on his heel, coming face-to-face with you.

in that moment, you swear there's a crackle, as if there was some sort of electricity. a hand cups the back of your skull, bringing you in close.

"where have you been?"

his inquiry is harsh, almost as if he was scolding you.

"home," your lip trembles as he studies you, taking in every little mole, every little scar, and the way your eyes glimmer in the dim light, "i've been at home."

"avoiding me or avoiding the what ifs?"

"both," you sputter out, the word thready as he leans in even further, your mouths only millimeters apart, "i was scared if we saw one another again, i would put you in some sort of fucked-"

"you're adorable," the team principal coos, tilting your head back, "absolutely precious."

"why do you say that?"

the tip of his nose brushes against yours, his voice merely a whisper.

"because no matter how badly i want to fuck you right now, i still have some sense of control."

"then what are you going to do?"

"feel those pretty little lips around my cock. get on your knees."

"t-toto," you stammer, fighting a moan as his mouth drifts down your jawline, planting sloppy kisses down your neck, "i-i don't know if we should-"

"just say the word and i'll walk you right back to mommy and daddy."

adrenaline courses through your veins, your mind scrambling to form a response as his fingertips glide along the waistband of your jeans, tenderly stroking along your heated skin.

the angel on your shoulder was telling you to walk away, to end it right now before it grew into something more.

yet, the devil was a little bastard, reminding you that you finally had him alone. the filthy fantasies that clouded your dreams at night could finally be fulfilled.

and who knew how long it would be before an opportunity like this arose.

it was now or never.

licking your lips, you lower to your knees, the coolness of the concrete littering your limbs with goosebumps. toto dips his head, prompting you to proceed.

"show me how much of a good girl you really are."

bringing your hands to his slacks, you hastily undo the buckle of his belt. hooking the waistband of his boxers, you slide them down, eyes widening at the sight before you.

his hardened cock, far larger than your fantasies, was before you, stiff as the blood pumped through it. his tip was a rosy pink, tinged with the glow of lust. there were several veins prominent, wrapping around his length.

sticking your tongue out, you swirl around his tip, humming as his legs shake momentarily, pleasure crashing over him like a tidal wave. his chest rises and falls, breathing ragged as you begin to take him in your mouth, lashes fluttering as one hand wraps around the base.

"that's it," he pants, fingers tugging at your roots while your cheeks hollow out, "you take it so well. good girl."

spit begins to dribble from your lip as you begin to bob your head, your hand pumping along his length. with each stroke, you can feel him tense, his jaw clamped tight.

you can feel the bruises forming as obscene noises bounce off the walls, the team principal's grip loosening by the second. you're soaking wet, the juices pooling between your thighs as his head falls back.

fuck, did you like this.

no, you loved it as he shuddered against you, his voice breathy, barely audible.

"y-you're going to make me cum. f-fuck you're going to make me cum."

seconds later, you feel it.

threads of cum spill down your throat, his hips bucking against you, "good girl. get every last drop."

pulling away, you swallow, the team principals' hands finding yours. fingers intertwine together, helping you to your feet.

"come here."

mouths mold together, the kiss blazing with passion. a tongue slides along your lower lip, delving in. it's pure bliss, breathing life into your lungs as he brings you in closer than you ever thought possible.

the tender moment is brief, leaving a tingling sensation that buzzes all the way down to your toes.

"we will finish this," eyes interlock, a finger sweeping along your jaw, "i promise."

"when?" the inquiry tumbles out, "when will we see each other again?"

"as soon as possible," he murmurs, "promise me something though, schatzi."

"that is?" you arch a brow, wondering what could possibly come next.

"promise me that you won't let another man near you until i get to finish what i started."

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master taglist: @ts1m1kas @joalslibrary @bxuzi @swifth0lic @dounib67 @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @invictax @pretzelsarenice @lizxoxeth @marknolee @f1kenzzz @statuewoman @jeannealicette @chuxk-lerclerk @manianoola @lokideservesahug @noooway555 @vimayxo @p3rcyp1g

[totem-but-shark]

I have to give props to foolish for the way he plays qfoolish because whether intentionally or not he really sells the vibe of an ancient immortal character, though not in the expected sense. Where other immortal characters may become jaded by a life so long qfoolish is literally just chilling, he's seen it all before and so can't be shaken so easily. Moments that to other mortal characters are earth shattering are just another Tuesday for him, funny even.

Despite this he's no less enthusiastic for life, he wakes up every morning and simply lives, as he has done for an unknowable amount of days prior.

It's fascinating, hes able to roll with every punch and shrug off every struggle with a laugh. Why should he be upset? in the grand scheme of everything he's lived through it's not even a blip, why cant it be funny instead?

But this makes it so much more impactful when he DOES care, the rare moments where he is affected are heart wrenching when contrasted with his usual easygoing happy-go-lucky laissez-faire attitude. There's something raw and human to me in the way that for however long he's lived he still feels, he loves and grieves. He still lives and so he still feels.

Anyways stan an unbothered king

[milksnake-tea]

warning: probably an ooc neuvillette i havent touched genshin in three months i know nothing about him this is based purely off vibes. also gets kinda suggestive at the end but dw its open ended BYE

Thinking about being a phantom thief in Fontaine.

A notorious criminal that simply boggles, and quite honestly, infuriates the minds of the authorities.

You leave behind calling cards as a patronizing warning, and take whatever so happens to catch your eye - slipping past any level of security, no matter how strong. You willingly put your (fake) name out to the world, flaunting it even, and yet, no arrests have been made.

How could they, after all? How could you arrest a person who didn't exist?

Your name has become a curse among the voices of officers and lawmakers alike. Whenever a case has your name painted over it, all the investigators can expect is a headache. After all, you're a professional - and professionals don't leave behind any clue unintentionally.

And in a similar fashion, the only way you're caught is when you allow yourself to be caught.

Neuvillette can only sigh in exasperation you enter his office through the window once again, the quiet breeze and the clink of a lock being pried open being the only indicators of your existence.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile on your lips as you press a kiss right behind his pointed ears - feeling as he shivers, just a little bit, under your touch.

"I believe I told you to enter through the door," Neuvillette mutters, leaning back into your embrace, tilting his head up to stare up at you. Your lips tug into a smirk.

"Since when do I listen to you, mon cherie?" you laugh, an airy little chuckle like a windchime. You peck his nose, snickering as he wrinkles it. "Now, now, don't pout. You know I can't come in the normal way. I'd be arrested on the spot if I were to be caught entering the Chief Justice's office."

"You, be caught?" Neuvillette questions, raising his brow playfully. You hum, resting your chin on his shoulder, nuzzling him.

"Yes," you insist. "This place has so much security, all for you, my dear. Even I would have trouble simply walking through the front doors."

"And so you decide to scale the walls and break in through my window?"

"Precisely." Your hand comes to cup at Neuvillette's face, turning him to face you. "And now do you see how much trouble I go through, just to see you?"

"Unnecessary trouble," Neuvillette replies, unbothered. You roll your eyes.

"Goodness, just what did I do to deserve such an ungrateful lover?" you weep dramatically, jutting out your lip as you pout. "You know, there are hundreds of ladies out there who can only wish their husbands did a tenth of what I do for you."

"I apologize." A sliver of a laugh leaves Neuvillette's lips, his eyes crinkling as he smiles at you. "What can I do to earn your forgiveness?"

You hum, your gloved hand taking a firmer hold of his chin, your thumb running over his lip. Neuvillette doesn't resist when you open his lips slightly, pressing down on his bottom lip with your thumb.

"I think you know what," you mused.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[akutasoda]

ehe

can I request a s/o who acts like a cat even while fighting

cat fight

synopsis - when they're s/o acts like a cat, even when fighting

includes - baizhu, wanderer, sethos, wriothesley

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, wc - 855

a/n: i did sort if interpret this as more black cat and orange cat vibes..

taglist - @frankiesteinn, @little-miss-chaoss

baizhu ★↷

↪he's like a more friendly balck cat, almost like a domestic black cat who has been around a while. while sometimes he seems unbothered and disinterested, he has a kind hearrt deep down and isn't selfish - he is a doctor afterall. so no matter what, he always seems like the voice of reason.

↪if he was with someone who gave more of a black cat vibe, he'd almost act as a sort of reassurance - especially when it came to other people who could be quite embarrassed by how disinterested you seemed. he didn't exactly love your more selfish side but he'd find ways to deal with your moods.

↪if he was with someone who gave of more orange cat vibes, he'd act more as the voice of reason. he found it very admirable with how outgoing and friendly you were but sometimes he'd have to step in when you became a bit too chaotic. he did quite love seeing what you had gotten up to in terms of your more unhinged activity.

↪baizhu would normally discourage you from putting yourself in harms way as he would hate to see you get injured. however he found it quite hard to stop you when he observed you acting very 'cat-like' in battle - it was quite amusing.

↪ he'd never make an outright comment but sometimes you wpuld catch him staring if you were fighting and you never knew if he was trying to assess your condition or say something else...

wanderer ★↷

↪he gives off black cat energy for definite, or atleast for those that he's less acquainted with or downright hates. so for him to be with someone who could also be compared to that of a cat would be like a perfectly crafted match.

↪if you were also more of a black cat kind of person it would be almost too perfect. you both always seemed unbothered and disinterested which sometimes made others feel like you two were constantly judging them. although maybe two people that could be rather selfish would encounter a few issues.

↪or maybe you acted more akin to a orange cat, then you two would seem like completely opposites. he would seem cold, judgemental and calculated but you were like a ball of sunshine - a bit more chaotic and impulsively as well. you two would simply balance each other out perfectly.

↪although, wanderer did find it rather amusing with how your cat like behaviour would translate into your style of fighting. he'd always tease you about it afterwards, always comparing you to a cat who'd chase mice. while he probably didn't like seeing you put by yourself in danger, as long as he was nearby he'd happily watch you fight almost like a cat would.

sethos ★↷

↪he can be quite the outgoing and friendly person, sort of akin to an orange cat but he also has that more serious and selfish side. it really depends on who you are to him and the situation. however mainly for his lover, he's definitely more like an orange cat.

↪so if you acted more like a black cat, you two become quite the opposites that work. his friendliness counters your rather selfish nature that always gives of an unbothered attitude and he seems like the sun itself next to you. however when you're both seeming very cold, you can be quite the intimidating couple.

↪but if you match his orange cat energy perfectly then you both can be perceived as rather friendly people. unfortunately (or fortunately) that means you both like to indulge each other in whatever unhinged idea the other has thought up.

↪although one obvious difference can be observed on the battlefield as sethos becomes much more concentrated and almost aggressive while you remain rather 'cat-like'. he finds it rather adorable when you demonstrate the mannerisms of a cat in a fight.

wriothesley ★↷

↪he isn't exactly the biggest act like person, he's definitely more akin to that of a wolf or perhaps some kind of hunting dog. so him having a lover who acts alot more 'cat-like' always makes it seem like you two are complete opposites.

↪although perhaps you would be more similar than perceived if you were more like a black cat. this way you both had much more of an intimidating aura. wasn't the biggest fan of your more selfish side but he would find that it wouldn't be directed towards your relationship and he became more at peace with it.

↪however, if you behaved more like an orange cat you two would be a perfect mix of seriousness and chaos. wriothesley would find himself being entertained by your common activities that completey confused his brain as to why you would do so but that's what made his day.

↪again, he hated seeing you fight but sometimes he knew that the situation would be unavoidable and so he would instead watch out for you and your 'cat-like' fighting.

[qvnthesia]

Another You (.02)

an anakin skywalker/jedi consular!reader fic set during the clone wars

the pitch: best friends with anakin since he had joined the jedi order, you hadn’t expected to catch feelings for him, not that hard, at least. his intentions were clear — his heart already enraptured by the nubian senator, leaving you to ruminate about the prospect of letting go of not just him, but maybe everything. until another anakin shows up, and your — your universe’s anakin starts behaving strangely.

A/N: happy birthday, @kaizsche! i hope you enjoy this update!! a note to all readers — there’s no y/n here, the reader’s nickname for the fic is sky. happy reading!

part two— you're not helping.

word count: 7,042

part one | two (here) | ....

Simply put, Aayla Secura was enjoying this. Restraining herself with absolute failure from bursting into fits of laughter, Aayla watched as even the most experienced of Jedi masters drop their caf or just stare with their jaws dropped, t h u n d e r s t r u c k, at Anakin and his double — the long-haired Anakin — walking side-by-side with Master Kenobi being the only one who separated Anakin from thoroughly sizing up his copy, who simply viewed his new-found sights with a twinkling gaze and an even more unbothered attitude.

“Is it just me—” Aayla leans next to your figure, her eyes fixated on the live footage from the Jedi Temple’s security feed. “—or is our new guest having a wind machine around him? Because you humans could take some hair care tips from him.”

You scowl, elbows propped up on the desk, as you watch the footage behind your intertwined fingers held together as tightly as your frown.

“Relax, Sky,” Aayla props an elbow on your stiff shoulder, “He gives off a good vibe. And plus, he’s definitely more attractive than—”

“Aayla!”

The agile Twi’lek proves herself as one of the best the Jedi Order has to offer as she flicks on the live footage faster than your attempts to take it away from her.

“Mon amie, this is literally out of a holo drama!” she giggles, switching off the footage under your sharp gaze. “It’s a sign from the Force itself to take your leap and get your man, or in this case, one version of the man!”

“Aayla, he belongs to another universe—”

“And you’re saying you haven’t been attracted to him?”

You freeze, and Aayla smiles.

Twi’leks weren’t humans, but were sure as hell kriffing good with their senses, so Aayla knew you were lying, and how much she was going to enjoy the day ahead.

Maker, why did I go for this job?

You silenced your mind — there’s a member of the kriffing Jedi Council in the same room as you and you’d feel much more comfortable knowing Master Kenobi had a visual on his enemies rather than the six hundred scenarios of you and Anakin in your mind.

Instead, you focused on your datapad, tapping on six different squares as Anakin answered your questions.

“—Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. Commanding officer of the Five Hundred and First Legion—”

“Currently on leave,” Master Kenobi remarked, stroking his beard.

“Yeah, but still, Obi-Wan, come on—”

“You’re really Anakin?”

You perked up at Ahsoka’s voice, who munched on a ronto wrap while perched on one of the desks.

“Yes,” the long-haired Anakin hummed. You’ve lost count at how many times Ahsoka has asked the question, and you’re pretty sure Master Kenobi, Rex and Cody have the same question swimming their head since yesterday. It’s only the constant patience that has persevered through the Order’s new guest that sets a guilty fire ablaze within your body — and it’s definitely from the way his voice never even fluctuates, just stays the smooth baritone, lower than the usual. It’s the same tone that your Anakin’s voice always has when he woke up to you working again late in the night, or he just strolled into your quarters wearing nothing but shorts and pressed himself against your back, his toned frame somehow slotting perfectly against your edges.

“But…” she tilted her head, her lekku twitching. “You look so mature.”

“Snips!” barked Anakin, shooting a sharp scowl toward Master Kenobi’s hacking laughter. Ahsoka shrugged, stuffing herself with more of her ronto wrap. Anakin’s long-haired copy softly pressed his twitching lips together. He caught your lingering gaze, and spread his lips into a smile, one that crinkled the edges of his twinkling eyes.

“How long is this going to take again?”

You snapped to a stiff, attentive posture as Anakin cleared his throat.

Master Kenobi sighed again. “Anakin, you must be patient—”

“—farmboy here smells like weed—”

“Anakin!”

“He’s not wrong.”

Anakin and Master Kenobi’s bickering ceases.

“What do you mean?”

He turns to you, and you internally slap yourself for suddenly becoming his center of attention. Not such a bad idea, but then—

“Are you…” Master Kenobi finds his voice again, bringing you back to the room again. “Are you not a Jedi, Anakin?”

There’s a slight crack in Master Kenobi’s voice, one that propels Ahsoka to stand next to him. The long-haired Anakin surveys the both of them, eyes softly squinted deep in thought, possibly pondering on how to break this brand new piece of information to a suddenly very fragile-looking old man and a dispirited young teenager.

The long-haired Anakin exhales. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. I left the Jedi Order after I turned nineteen, and I’m a farmer—well, part-time mechanic, on Naboo.”

Your eyes widen, exchanging a surprised glance with Aayla.

“Master Kenobi, are you sure none of us are high?”

“Padawan,” chastised the Jedi, his shock secured tightly behind his shields. “I apologise, Anakin—I mean—”

“It’s alright, Obi-Wan.”

The long-haired Anakin waved his hands, and Obi-Wan visibly stiffens at the use of his name by a version of Anakin he should know but he doesn’t.

“You did train me, but I…” he scratched the back of his head, showing all teeth with a gentle, sheepish smile. “Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

You swore he looked at you; you were always looking at Anakin for some maker-forsaken reason or the other.

“And the war?”

Anakin turns to Cody and Rex, their military etiquette all thrown out the window.

“What war?”

The floor practically shifts with a lurch from the Force.

“You… you don’t have a war? The Clone Wars?”

He turns to you, and the world melts away as you look up at him, datapad clutched to your chest as a shield from him and from your simmering desperation.

The long-haired Anakin — you should definitely give him a name aside from his long hair — has a piercing gaze, one your Anakin looked at you everytime you looked up at him, your chin pressed to his chest, his arms around your waist as his nose crinkled with every laugh shared between you two about the stupidity of the Separtists’ battle droids.

“From all that I’ve been privy to," he swallows, his sharp apple jutting out even more prominently that it did. “The galaxy isn’t having the, uh, Clone Wars. We do have clones, but they work with the Jedi and provide humanitarian aid.”

“Captain Rex and Commander Cody work under Obi-Wan, who took on a young Togruta as his new padawan after I left,” he turns once again to Ahsoka, smiling. “I’m not General Skywalker, I’m just… Anakin.”

You blink, unable to process him. A part of you pushes that there’s a complete liar standing before you, a shapeshifter sent here to trick the Republic and distract the Consular who’s coincidentally working to counter their latest planet-killing superweapon. But the Anakin before you is as real as yours. He’s had a different life that you can’t help but wonder if you’re there—

“Hypothetically speaking—” coughs Rex. “Can I sign up for multiversal travel?”

“Rex!”

“I don’t like this.”

“More than sand?”

Anakin rolls his eyes at Padmé, who gives him a laugh as she continues to type her latest proposal behind her desk.

His lithe legs propped upon the corner of her desk, Anakin crosses his arms together, replaying the exact moment where he felt your Force signature spring alive when his double looked at you.

He’d never elicited a similar reaction from you when he was there. All those moments holding you close, regaling you in his tales until you succumbed to sleep, feeling your heart against his and wishing it were just like this for eternity. It was torture having to stay away from you, to be called time and again to this siege and that battle when all he wanted was to wake up next to you and live the life that other people did when they loved each other in a way he had loved you since the two of you were sixteen.

He even felt embarrassed to voice this in front of the Chancellor, who had suspiciously kept on pestering him to great lengths to enquire about the reason for his distraction. Clearly, he’d been sloppy — even Obi-Wan had managed to pick up his emotions in the heat of the battle. He’d decided to stay away from the Temple, show his ‘interest’ in politics so that such a slip wouldn’t occur again though, that your position as a Jedi wouldn’t be compromised by his misery. Though, he thinks to himself, the emergence of his double from another dimension spelled trouble for him in both Basic and Huttese.

Damn father, he grumbled to himself.

“If you keep having that stupid, angry look on your face, I’m afraid Sabé would be more than happy to throw you out of my office.”

Anakin sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just—” he stood up from his seat, pacing. “She likes him more! That peaceful, farming version of me over… me.”

Padmé turned her attention away from the blue screen, sincere pity softly twisting her lips.

“And you’re here, out of all places.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m just saying,” she shrugged, her smile growing wider. “It’s a sign.”

Anakin hesitated, his stomach roiling with anxiety.

“Are you sure I should—?”

“If you don’t, I will.”

Anakin laughs. Hope blooming bright in his chest, he gives his childhood friend a grateful nod, and races out of the office.

Having receiving enough complaints about ‘seeing double’ of a certain Anakin Skywalker, Master Yoda explicitly commanded you to serve as the long-haired Anakin’s tour guide for the day, remarking a day away from the Temple ought to make him comfortable in his new universe — and reduce Master Windu’s migraines. Since you concomittantly had to visit the Senate Archives for business, you decided your new guest would accompany you to the prompt excursion to the laughing stock that was the Galaxy’s governing body.

Both of you had been loaned a speeder by the Jedi Council, to which the long-haired Anakin simply pointed a slender finger to a sleek, open-roofed speeder glinting under the spotlight of Coruscant’s artificial weather.

"That looks better, wouldn’t you think?” he grinned.

Maker, let the Force lend its might to you today to calm your fluttering heart. He wasn’t just glowing with happiness, you knew very well he was playing with you, and you’d be a fool to deny it wasn’t a good look on him.

So, with a begrudging sigh, you agreed, and headed straight for Dex’s Diner — an establishment he seemed quite familiar with.

“Ani!” Dex roared proudly, sweeping you and him in a hug before you even had a chance to look around for empty seats. “Look at how you’ve grown,” he said appraisingly as he drew back, “And what’s with the hair, eh? All dressed up for a date?”

“This—no—” you fervently shook your head, cheeks ablaze. “No, this isn’t a date—”

You glared pointedly at the long-haired Anakin — Ani — who softly cocked his brow. He seemed to decide with himself for a moment, and then spread his lips in a cocksure grin, the exact same your Anakin had in those holo-videos labelled ‘Hero with No Fear’ racking up views all over the galaxy.

“Last time I remember—”

He snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you next to his toned frame.

“—I did get a yes.”

“That was fun.”

Your disagreements lose to the quick beat of your heart, and you stab the scoopful of ice cream in your hands as you walk through the senate hallways. Leaving aside the fact that the trip to the archives was a monumental failure as you’d expected, you’d come as close as falling to the dark side to melt into a pool of a miserable puddle of your love and embarrassment.

“You’ll figure it out.”

You look up at him, realising the two of you have come to a stop in the middle of your footsteps.

“Whatever the enemy is planning, I’m sure you’ll foil their plans. I know it.”

He smiles, licking the ice cream off the corner of his lips and jutting the spoon in the air as if it were his lightsaber.

The confidence in his voice makes you wonder if he knew you. Not you, but a version of you in his universe.

What were you to this version of Anakin? Were you what Anakin was in your universe? The ‘Heroine with No Fear,’ or ‘The Jedi with No Fear,’ even if there was no war in his galaxy. Were you an acclaimed Jedi or a nobody from the backwater planet you belonged to?

Were you even someone he liked? With the manner you currently struggled to contain the depth of admiration you harboured for your Anakin, being lovers seemed out of the question. Were you at least his friend? Or, you gulped to yourself as your heart sunk low, were you dead?

“Consular Jedi.”

Your voice perked up at the entourage making way towards you, led by—

“Chancellor Palpatine!”

You offered the old man a short bow, which he returned to you with an amicable smile. His eyes roved over—

“Anakin, my dear boy,” his visage extended over to Ani; he let out a chuckle. “I must have caught you by surprise, son.”

You looked over to Ani, who had dropped his ice cream and the little wooden spoon on the floor, the hem of the Chancellor’s robes trailing with tiny chocolate chips.

He looked like a deer caught in the spotlight, except only a fool would describe him as a prey. No, he looked like the commander that Anakin always had been — alert, sharp, observant, and most of all, protective of his loved ones and his duty.

“Are you alright, my boy?”

The Chancellor’s eyes darted between the two of you, and you cleared your throat, wrapping your arm around Ani’s right one, shielding it entirely by your billowing robes.

“We were just coming back from the archives, Chancellor,” you cleared your throat. Feeling Ani tighten his grip around your arm, you continued. “Anakin thought to offer an extra set of hands in my search for a solution to the Separatists’ rumoured advantage.”

“Ah, of course,” the man nodded, interwining his bony fingers one over the other hand. “I must not hinder you, I suppose—Anakin, my boy, do come for a visit, will you? You seem to be avoiding me, though I now understand why.”

He shot a fatherly wink at Ani, who only seemed to stiffen even further, his arms balling into tight, iron-rod fists.

“Of course,” Ani found his voice, steel replacing his usual gentleness. “It was lovely meeting you but I’m afraid we must be on our way—”

Before you could even hear the old man’s professional toodle-oo, Ani simply tugged you by your arm and walked past the entourage, his long strides taking you to the far end of the Senate’s circular hallways within a blink of your eye. Reaching a destination guarateeing privacy, he looked around.

“Anakin, what—WHOA!”

You let out a grunt as your back slammed against the durasteel walls. He looks down at you, an apology flashing in his eyes, but the steel in his voice stops your protests.

“What the kark is that man doing here?”

Your eyebrows shoot up into your forehead, “What?”

You look at him through the Force; his sun is now an eclipse, shadowed by the foreboding storm and thunder.

“Anakin,” you gulp softly, gathering your courage, “He’s the Supreme Chancellor, what—what are you—”

You pause, your mind backpedalling to the events in your office.

“Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

He shifts in his feet just as your eyes widen.

“Sky.”

His arms wrap around your trembling figure, but you never leave his gaze.

“Sky, listen to me, it’s okay—”

“Why…” you cut in, failing to sound calm. “Why did you leave the Order?”

“Because I fulfilled my destiny.”

The storm within him dissolves with a wave of the seas within him. Your glare demands answers; his chest puts strain on the fibres of his beige shirt as he exhales sharply.

"I discovered the Sith that had been plaguing the Jedi and the Republic. It was…”

He lets out a bitter chuckle, the corners of his lips downturned.

“It was so ingenious, the way he had been doing it. Getting close to me ever since I was a child, preying on my fears, my insecurities. Deluding me into thinking I was going to be alone forever simply because I was different than the others, that I was born of no father and only a loving mother, that I was a child of the Force itself and as such, the Jedi viewed me as a threat.”

“But what he hadn’t seen coming, what even I hadn’t expected to gain was that I began to have people on my side. People who trained me and taught me that the Dark is never the option to take, because it takes and it takes from you and leaves you wanting more, it leaves you empty, as a shell of who you were. It leaves you alone and no one to go to. And I had people… people who pulled me back—”

He meets your gaze, blown open and vulnerable.

“—people who made me see reason, that my mind was being tipped in a direction that was not of my own making, but of the Sith who I had allowed to poison my mind since I was a child. Sky…”

He intakes a sharp breath.

“I am the Chosen One just as your Anakin is. And I did it. I fulfilled my destiny and stopped the return of the Sith.”

Ani holds your hands, pressing your palm to his chest. A tremor passes through your body, and he steadies your figure, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Please, you must believe me. I can sense you care deeply for my variant in this universe, and he is in grave danger, Sky.”

Your mind flashes back to one of Master Yoda’s classes, where he had droned in his wise way how the Force made itself known to warn its believers that life itself was in grave danger; it was a warning, a shadow, an event, something or the other that shook the defenders into of their senses and prompted them to act for the betterment of the survival of the Galaxy — and for your own good.

You had felt the Force the first time when Master Windu had arrived to your village years ago, offering his hand to enter the world of the Jedi. The Force had given a warm nudge for you to take his hand and take the chance; you had taken it.

You had felt the Force the second time when you met Anakin Skywalker, nine years old, young and shy, and terribly homesick for the embrace of his mother’s arms. The Force had giggled, and you had decided, fate or not, that you would bring a smile to his forlorn face.

You had felt the Force the third time when you were on Geonosis, standing the arena with your master, saber ignited as Anakin let out a joyous cheer, joining you back-to-back as you both tore through droid after droid in the relentless carnage. The Force, triumphant, had melded the two of you as one machine, as one competently-built Corellian freighter tearing apart the enemy.

The present moment is when you feel the Force again, screaming. You see death and blood, corpses of younglings and clone soldiers strewn on the floors of the Jedi Temple. But Anakin’s there, and you see hope, you see a future with laughing children and the galaxy, alive than you’ve ever felt it to be.

The Force holds its breath, and despite what the Jedi Code said, you’ve never chosen to ignore life.

You steel yourself and look up at him, determined.

“I believe you.”

His gaze widens, and the temperature around you shoots up, charged.

But it isn’t coming from the Anakin front of you, rather from a few feet away from the both of you.

You meet the dark look on your Anakin’s face, his armor glinting in the pale, sterile Coruscanti sunlight.

You haven’t even blinked, but he’s next to you in mere six steps, Ani’s hurling toward the ground, and you’re in Anakin’s arms, warm, cold, safe and scared.

“Anakin.”

He looks down at you, and he melts.

“It’s okay, he wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

You turn to Ani, who’s now on his feet, his stance as same as your Anakin.

“We need to leave,” he states to his armoured copy, stark.

“He’s right,” you turn back to Anakin, “We’re in danger, Anakin, the Chancellor is the Sith—”

“What?!”

He recoils, looking back and forth between him and you.

“Sky, he’s messing with you, don’t listen to him—”

“Are you serious?” scoffs Ani, balling his hands into tight fists.

“You’re the one to talk—”

The sky suddenly turns dark, lights blinking awake in the buildings outside. Clouds fog the tallest skyscrapers, crackling with blue lightning.

The floor beneath you trembles, and you look at the end of the hallway.

There’s a man in a dark robe that you could’ve mistaken for a statue. But his eyes are a burning yellow that remind you of the flames of your Master’s funeral pyre.

The hooded figure bristles, and you can feel his sickly smile on your skin, feel the two Anakins next to you tense as the cold finally settles on their shoulders.

The name shouldn’t click in your head, but it does.

“Sidious.”

Silence rings in your ears.

“On three,” whispers Ani.

His fingers grasp yours and, from the corner of your eyes, Anakin holds your left hand as delicate his shock and anger can allow his metal arm to be.

“One, two—”

You take toward the window. 

“—three.”

CRASH !

The air r i p s with a violent blue and purple, and glass tears at your clothes as the air whips at your face and you freefall against the cold steel and stabbing rain.

.

to be continued...

thank you so so much for reading! if you'd like to be added to the tag list, drop a comment below! 💗✨

cross-posted on AO3

part one | two (here) | ....

[deathc-re]

you both knew your roles; he was a sex toy and you were emotion escape. you both knew each others issues; he couldn't get over some girl and you were a sex addict.

the story of your fateful meeting wasn't a too surprising one. you were out, looking for a new toy because your last one wanted something more, something deeper, which you didn't do. at some random stupid party you saw him, he stood in the corner, a beautiful wall flower ready to pluck.

after some small talk, a couple bats of your lashes and shamelessly pushing your breasts in his direction he ended up in your bed. the sex was great considering how mediocre everything else is so you fully sunk your claws into him.

now, 3 weeks later, he's here in your flat again, pushing you up against the wall and devoting himself to leaving deep and visible marks on your neck.

you threw a leg onto his hip and he gripped it roughly to keep it there. he thrust into your core and you gasped, tangling your fingers into his hair. you pulled his head back to look at his face and was about to whisper something (incredibly) vulgar when he suddenly started welling with tears. you were taken aback and the vibe completely shifted.

"are you ok??" you asked, pushing him back a bit more to examine his face in the low lighting. he fully broke away from you and rushed to put his shoes on, roughly wiping away the tears.

"megumi! whats wrong? did i do something?" you followed after him, praying this wasn't the end of your little escapade.

"i'm sorry to ruin the mood i just-- i just can't."

"what do you mean, love? i can clearly see that you can." you tried to joke, motioning with your eyes to his still visible hard on.

he flushed and patted his pockets to make sure he had everything, "i mean i can't with you. not anymore. this isn't-- can't be how i heal."

you suppressed an eye roll and lost all concern, stopping in your motion to the door and crossed your arms over your chest. he looked at you expectantly, waiting, hoping for your words of understanding.

"ok megumi," you said, completely cool and disappointingly unbothered "if that's what you want then sure."

he nodded slowly and turned to the door.

"but!" you called "if you have any friends you can send my way please do! i'm tired of going to those fucking parties only to get a weak fuck."

he folded his lips into a tight line and looked at you blankly "sure, whatever. just-"

that's when a person actually came to mind. he hated the idea of setting his friend up for something like this but he knew this is exactly the type of thing they'd enjoy.

"i...have a person in mind, i'll text your number to em. that being said, please block me."

"oh you don't have to tell me twice honey! get home safe yea?" you walked towards the door, opening it and motioning for him to leave. he simply nodded and disappeared down the hall.

closing and locking the door you groaned loudly and stomped towards your bedroom (downstairs neighbors be damned). practically throwing your drawer open, you rummaged around and pulled out a clear complicated looking device.

"guess its you and me again old friend." you sighed

no idea where this little thing came from but lmk if yall want more outta this!

[maggstar]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

───────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────────────────

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+, mni DNI!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: here babes

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, public sex (at night, so it's chill), mutual touching, protected sex (cause we don't want any diseases!), reader is a virgin, lots of kissing and tongue action ;)

𝐖𝐂: 6.5k (holy shit?)

𝐀/𝐍: this is for my biker hee enthusiasts, hope yall like this :)

Please leave any sort of feedback: reblogging and commenting is the best for me, so let me know!!

───────────────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────────────────

A peaceful Saturday night in the outskirts of town was scheduled to be disturbed in the following minutes as another biker season was about to take place. Bikers have gathered all across the city to attend a race, this time the possession for the winner being a brand new Breakout 117. 

Surprisingly, you weren't here for yourself, but for your friend, who couldn't miss this chance. Every month, he somehow managed to drag you along. Sometimes you truly questioned your decisions, especially given the circumstances. You weren't a significant other nor a fan, just a friend of a boy with whom you have known for decades. At this point, it became a tradition, as he claimed you were his lucky charm for victory. 

Sometimes it was worth the fun, especially when you got to witness your friend winning. He was a professional, not only skillful but also sensible, unlike some of the drivers. Whenever the two of you went on rides, he was extra careful. You simply trusted him, just like you did when you bet on him before the match, putting your money on the fool. 

You looked around the field, recognizing some of the contestants and their significant others, their style matching the rock and roll image their partners were carrying. You felt awkward standing there in your boring jeans and hoodie, finding your choice of clothing rather amusing. Yet again, that was you.

As you stared at the road again, your eye noticed a familiar figure approaching your friend, identifying them from miles away. He was taller and leaner than him, always wearing the same leather jacket during these events, lazily topping the outfit with some jeans. 

He had been fairly new in town, yet his performance proved everyone wrong, quickly stepping up the ladder. You didn't know much about him besides a few encounters, in which he surprisingly always found a smooth pickup line to make an impression. He never mentioned his name nor where he was from. There was a mysterious vibe surrounding him, which intrigued you more. 

As if he could sense your stare, he turned his head in your direction, eyes catching yours, passing a light smile, catching you off guard. You widened your eyes at the realization, quickly looking away even though it was late, slightly panicking inside. 

You didn't know why his presence made you feel this way. The first time he came to you, you felt your stomach hitting a wall, gaze focused on the boy's face. Saying he was just handsome would be an understatement because it was breathtaking. Maybe it was just the effect of the moonlight shining on his face or the wind casually blowing his hair into a messy one, prompting him to run his hands through it like he was in a TikTok edit.

Something about him gave you a tingling feeling, and you couldn't understand what it was. 

"Missed me?" you turned around at that voice, meeting him hovering over you with a smug grin, licking his lips teasingly. Fucker

"You wish," you crossed your arms, swinging your hair to appear unbothered at all costs, knowing damn well it wasn't working. 

"Hm, why were you eyeing me then?" his words landed on the tips of your ears, hearing his smirk as he leaned against the fence, trapping you in between. 

"Because you were talking to my friend?" you stepped back, hitting the fence with your back, trying to avoid the intense watch he was attempting to pull you in. He only reached closer, his nose brushing against your neck, smelling the soft jasmine scent. Your heart almost burst out at the random contact, grabbing the hem of your hoodie to hold in the gasp. If you weren't so sensitive, the hairs on your neck wouldn't have stood up at that little touch, proving to him just what effects he had on you. 

"Hm, your friend," he casually twirled a strand of your hair around his finger, clearly enjoying edging you, "the one you always bet on, huh?" 

You nodded, your cheeks burning up from the sudden attention, only exposing yourself to him more. It was too difficult to think straight when the distance between you was so slim you could almost hit your face in his chest, the powerful aroma of rosewood hitting your senses. Not only was it nice, but it was your favorite, the fragrance you would come back to in the perfume shop whenever you had the chance. What a coincidence that he had to be wearing it while seducing you. 

"Why don't you bet on me once? I wouldn't disappoint you," the quirkiness in the sentence punctured, tucking the strand of hair behind your ear. You knew he was good, so the confidence didn't surprise you. Still, it made you nervous, the unpredictableness of his actions tempting you.  

"Why should I?" you sighed, fighting yourself not to lose your composure after his fingertip traced over your jawline, visible due to your avoidance of eye contact. His touch did something to you, and you weren't sure if you were supposed to like it. Technically he was your friend's opponent, and getting close to him seemed like a form of betrayal. 

"Cause if you do, you'll win," he held your chin, pulling it back to face him, finally examining your flustered expression," and I'll take you on a ride through the city." You stared into his brown eyes, unable to read his intentions through them, doubting your reactions.

"That's it?" somehow your brain succeeded in forming a normal sentence, sensing his hand sliding into your back pocket, internally screaming at the scene. He acted as if it was a regular thing he did, not a visible effect of it. You, on the other hand, were losing your mind.

"Someone's greedy," he smiled, pulling away after what felt like an eternity of torture, giving you space to take a proper breath at last. You didn't want to appear dramatic, but seriously the tension that transferred seconds ago left your throat dry. 

"There is a race tomorrow downtown," he turned around, looking back from his shoulder, "be there. I might have something else planned too."

And with that, he took off, returning to his crew, leaving you thoughtless, dazzled, to be specific. He really left you hanging there, mind empty, heartbeat speeding up, and lungs begging to scream. 

For a moment, you forgot the contest was about to start, your friend waving at you before putting on his helmet and getting into the starting position alongside the others. You saw the newbie sitting on his motorcycle, shooting a wink, and taking off as soon as the starter commander waved the checkered flag, disappearing in the distance. 

He was serious when he said his luck was his secret weapon. Everyone seemed to have expected him to win another race, proudly taking home another trophy with a couple of ladies interested in spending some "quality time" together. He didn't mind, merely paying them attention because he was focused on someone else. He was focused on you.

However, you were busy comforting your friend, laughing and smiling at whatever he was saying, stinging his emotions. He expected you to congratulate him, a bit resentful by the outcome, tongue poking the inner side of his cheek. 

It was stupid for him to want you to notice him, especially when so many girls had their eyes on him. You wouldn't approach him like that. He had to be the one to make the first move to make progress. Taking that into consideration, he remembered there was still tomorrow, his last chance to prove he was worth your while, and he was ready to whatever it would take to win that race.

He didn't know you were aware of his stare, not giving in so easily to see what it would do with him. It wasn't like you were playing hard-to-get. You simply wanted to find out to what extent he was willing to go for you, even if that meant he had to chase after you.

You had already decided to come to see him the next day, not expecting to find a paper note in your back pocket once you had reached home. It had a phone number written on it with the time of the event, and reading the message in small cursives made you scoff.  

"P.S. You might want to keep this for later.

- your favourite biker ;) "

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

It didn't surprise you when you came by as planned and witnessed the familiar faces hanging around, some of them even greeting you with a smile and a quick hi.

Nevertheless, you didn't expect to run into folks out of town, assuming this race was more important than the one yesterday. It wasn't common for bikers from other cities to partake in a contest, let alone in this town.

You wondered if your friend had a clue about this happening as he wasn't a part of the crowd, guilt rushing through at the lack of his presence beside you. 

You sat down on the nearest bench, eyes skimming for the boy who convinced you to come in the first place. He was in the front talking to his group of friends he had made in the past weeks, one of them tapping his shoulder at your sight. That was all he needed to turn around and distinguish you amongst the people, telling his friends he would return in a minute as he started walking towards you with a can of beer. 

"You came," he grinned, hiding the actual excitement inside, squatting in front of you to meet your gaze. You rolled your eyes at the statement in hopes of pushing away the same warmth you felt 24 hours ago. 

"So you want me to take you on a ride, huh?" the cocky smirk after that made you scoff, quickly taking it back when his elbows rested on your thighs, causing you to stare at him with a startled face. He brushed it off, smiling and handing you the liquid, nudging you to take a sip. You explained to his dorky ass you didn't drink, and he couldn't help but laugh at the information because it was even more amusing.  

"Can I ask you for something?" he broke the silence by voicing his question, watching you nod.

"Can you give me a kiss for good luck?" you almost choked on your breath at his calmness during the proposal, widening his eyes as if you were the one who had presented an inappropriate suggestion.

The boy wasn't messing around, and you understood that the minute he leaned in closer, face inches away from yours while his orbs lusciously studied your plump lips covered in pink lipgloss. 

"Just on the cheek, if you're too shy," his response only invoked you more, standing up after pushing him away. He gaped at you, fixing his posture amidst waiting for an explanation.

"What, was it too much? Did I embarrass you?" the cursed thumb brushed over your cheek, gently stroking it with a content laugh. He wasn't only teasing but relishing your flustered state, in which you asked yourself: "What the hell am I doing with my life?".

"You have to earn it first," you pulled away, crossing your arms, letting your brain break down and comprehend the impact your words would have on the playboy. 

"Sounds like an invitation," he sneered, taking a sip of the alcohol, sensing the thrill running down his body at the possible outcomes. It made everything better knowing you didn't calculate your reply, adding to the fever. 

Before you could perceive the situation, he returned to his buddies, smiling from ear to ear at the unexpected yet pleasant turn of events. 

Soon after, the motorcyclers repeated the typical preparation for the beginning of the night, their supporters encouraging them for the best results. You stood behind some of them, glimpsing at the tall boy out of the corner of your eye, who was already ready to cross that finish line and get you all to himself.

The race took off the minute the commander yelled go, the sounds of the engines storming off through the selected path, vanishing at a swift speed. It was a long one, including overlaps at some destinations, making it more challenging. This all appeared to be a higher level compared to the usual races you witnessed, curious to find out if the charming flirt actually had a chance on impressing you tonight. 

His demeanor was overall confusing, and honestly, you had no clue what to think or feel. It was pleasant when he gave you attention, and you couldn't act like his words didn't do something to you. You have never been in a relationship, having been too focused on school to make time for love, not seeing the queue of potential lovers. Thus, these chats left you with a new feeling, craving more.  

It would be a crime not to mention he was astonishingly attractive, the way he talked, moved, and most of all, looked at you. The captivating eye he would give whenever you appeared on his radar drove you crazy, followed by an assured smirk. It was enough to build a tiny crush on him without acknowledging it, not wanting to hurt your ego by admitting it aloud. 

You came to reality after everyone started loudly cheering, blowing whistles, and gathering around the winner, who got hidden behind the buffs. You stepped closer, taking a peek between the heads, coming face to face with him. After all, he kept his word.

"I told you you wouldn't regret it," he said as he put a helmet on you, patting the seat behind him, keen on leaving the place with you.

You were still taken aback by the pace of the situation, recalling the disappointed looks when the handsome one chose you instead of them.

Nevertheless, you were happy at the moment, joining him with a huge chuckle, wrapping your arms around his waist without him having to ask, slightly taking him aback with the out-of-the-blue contact. 

He didn't say much after, calmly driving through the streets, checking you through the rearview mirror sometimes.

The ride felt different, unlike when he took his other flings somewhere, and he didn't understand the meaning. It was already unusual for him to feel nervous about someone's company, especially when this scenario had played out countless times before.

A part of him felt bad for taking advantage of the situation, especially given your innocence compared to his exes. He presumed you weren't aware of his relationship because otherwise, you probably wouldn't have agreed to this. 

Then again, this was the first time he worked so hard to impress someone, almost giving up during the race. However, during one of the laps, he saw you standing behind the railings, showing thumbs up with an irresistible smile, providing him the right energy to pull through.

That had never happened before, and he was aware of the seriousness of the news. It would mean it was the first time in many years a flirter like him would fall hard enough to like someone. 

The more you squeezed, the more he noticed the effects of it on his body, clenching his jaw to concentrate on the road and not the unwanted happiness.

He didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to come to terms with the fact someone could give him butterflies. It simply didn't fit his image, and he never believed in the cute lovey-dovey stuff others experienced.

Now it all bit him back, showing him just how nice it could be if he let the walls he had built around down for a minute. After that one relationship he had, it was hard to find someone he could truly trust, and many had wronged him in the past, leading to his cautious state. It wasn't an excuse to be a playboy, but he used it to appear careless. This way, he wouldn't fall in love and hurt himself. 

He was curious about your past and if you had any nice affinities in which you were happy and content with yourself. He didn't want to harm you with his mentality and behavior, not ruin your image with his dirty games.

Now, he regretted taking you out because he was dangerous. Not in the usual way, but emotionally, he didn't want to leave an avoided scar. It was confusing, he was difficult for no reason.

He never cared about this because the girls he met up with had the same desires, some hoping for more but unfortunately ending up heartbroken. Whenever that happened, he skimmed through it, not giving a second thought to them.

Yet, he sat here entering the motorway after circling the city, disbelieving his decisions. It was touching to hear your little gasps and awes, telling him how beautiful the lights from the skyscrapers looked, pointing at the buildings. It warmed his cold heart, managing to satisfy someone with such small things. It was foreign. 

He didn't believe he pulled you off with his foolish tactics, earning your trust without having to tell much. Under normal circumstances, he would be against this idea because it was playing with fire. He felt this need to protect you ever since he had met you due to your pure personality, quirky lines, and profound smile. 

All of the desire to hook up perished away, and he only wanted to show you a better view of the city, driving up to a secluded place where he spent most of his time alone. It meant a lot to him, too special for anyone to know about, thus never having taken someone up there. You were the first and probably last person to visit it, the sound of it now appearing appealing to him. 

"Where are we going?" you shouted into the sky, the sound of the motorcycle so loud you could barely hear yourself. 

"It's a surprise, hold tight," he remarked back, glancing back at the road as the destination was getting closer, feet tensing at the information. You decided to trust him, pulling in closer to rest you heard on his back, a smile forming behind the helmet. It felt cozy to be so close, even if it was for a while.

You were so lost in your thoughts and feelings that you didn't register the satisfaction his existence gave you, unnecessarily disassembling the reason for the fervor your heart experienced. 

A few minutes later, the two of you finally reached the stop, parking beside the road to take you to the spot. You jumped down, letting him take off your helmet even though you knew how. He stared into your eyes once more, admiring your beauty while your hair was blowing in the wind, revealing your majestic looks. 

"You liked the night city so much," he uttered after putting away everything, joining you at the fence, "so I thought you should see the best of it." 

"It's," you were at a loss for words, marveling at the view ahead, having the vision of the whole city underneath. It was incredible, and you could only sigh in astonishment, joyful to be able to see it. 

"Beautiful," he completed the sentence, glancing at you with the hope you would catch on the little hint. You were too fascinated to uncover the message he had thrown at you, looking around with a big beam, letting out tiny noises of delight. He couldn't stop staring at you instead of the view, finding himself slightly grinning as well. 

"You know, you still haven't told me your name. You know mine, it would only be fair if I knew yours," you turned around, catching him swiftly turning around to face forward, holding in a giggle. 

"Heeseung," you raised your eyebrows at the reply, expecting a game in which you would have to guess or earn it. He said it without any thought, resting his hands on the bars. 

"Well, thank you, Heeseung."

"For what?" he glimpsed at you, studying the vivacious energy you carried, making him forget the tiredness he had held. 

"For bringing me to your secret place. It's lovely."

"Just like you," you gulped at the random compliment, mind going crazy while you attempted to hold yourself together. 

"They weren't kidding when they said you were a playboy," the sentence felt like a punch in the stomach, glancing at you to see the regret on your face, having expected this to happen regardless. 

"Why say that?" 

"You flirt with anyone naturally," the intonation of the comment asserted with a scoff. "You're just messing around, right? No feelings attached, just looking for someone to score."

"Y/N,"

"I'm not saying it's wrong, just-" you paused, brows furrowing at the lack of knowledge. You didn't know why it angered you so much, why it bothered you so much. Why was the thought of him alternating between women so frustrating? Why did you even care? It wasn't like he wanted to change it anytime soon. He enjoyed playing around because it was fun. Why would something suddenly change with you? Why the hell were you even thinking about that?

"Y/N,"

"It's stupid. I'm stupid. Stupid for foolishly believing it might be different. I don't even know why I thought about it. I don't understand why you make me so nervous when it's just a game, why I feel something when you say the compliments you used on other girls, why I came here in the first place, why my heart beats so fast when you look at me. Why-"

"Because I fucked it up!" he shouted, preventing you from rambling any longer, startling you at the shift in demeanor. His sharp gaze sliced through you, anger fuming in it. He wasn't mad at you. He was disappointed in himself.

"I wanted to hook up and have fun like you said. That's what I do because I'm a coward. I'm afraid of getting attached to someone," he panted, needing to take a breath after finally saying the truth out loud, shutting his eyelids to prevent tears. He wasn't letting that happen.

"I'm afraid of hurting again," his voice softened, biting his lip to prepare for what he was going to admit. It was already difficult to be in this position with you goggling at his words, processing the unforeseen amount of information thrown at you. 

"I avoided anything that could put me in that position until I met you," his hands clenched into a fist, wrath clambering in his bones, yelling at him for being such a coward. He was itching to kick something, punch an object to get it out before it could absorb him, fighting the need by engraving nail marks into his palm.

"Ever since I laid my eyes on you, there wasn't a day I stopped thinking about you. Your image was buried inside my head, and I couldn't get rid of it," he inhaled, chest feeling heavy at the weight his upcoming words carried, eyes meeting yours, the tension trapping your heart. 

"That damn smile of yours, Y/N. It ruined me in the best way possible."

...

...

...

The world around you two seemed to have stopped at that moment, staring at each other without saying anything, silence taking over after what was declared out loud, muscles tightening with each second the brain replayed the words, struggling to put the information into the database. It kept slipping out, checking if the content of it was correct and if there wasn't a mistake when it was collected. All the signs indicated the process had been performed successfully, thus leaving you with the truth, which was unthinkable.

Your heart had so much to say, but your mouth couldn't move, speechless to form a coherent response. You lost your thinking in his gaze, studying his aching expression, which desperately coveted an answer. He didn't care what it would be. He had to hear something before he would lose his mind because it was right around the corner waiting for him, and he could take off any second.

"I-" You hopelessly made an effort to say something, leaving the pronoun hanging in the air with your thinking, your emotions taking over your system. Before any of you could say something, your hands reached for the back of his neck, drawing him to your lips swiftly, gasping at the new sensation. 

Your heartbeat went up at the act, his only rapidly increasing whenever you pulled away to press on his lips again, nibbling on your bottom lip, smearing your lipgloss, and acquiring the faint taste of strawberry in his mouth.

He didn't expect this, the possibility of it not even entering. The ire for himself subsided, withering out every time your tender touch coated your lips with affection. The hatred faded into the darkness, leaving on ease. All the curses and insults reset, unplugging the tension in his joints, balance failing to cooperate. No part reported back their status, senses being the only department registering and functioning. 

"He-heeseung," your voice whispered, sighing as he put all of your hair on your other shoulder, having full access to your neck, on which he immediately left a soft kiss, barely pressing his lips on your warm skin. That was enough to give you the biggest goosebumps, going down to your legs, which floundered not to move.

You couldn't let out a protest or argue about his doing because you were tongue-tied, thunderstruck, or whatever other phrase that described your situation. His fingers grazed over yours with grace, poking the space in between to intertwine them, taking a whiff of your delectable perfume. 

"Can I touch you, Y/N?" his thumb gently stroked your hand, leaving tender smooches on your skin, lightly wrapping the other around your throat, lifting your chin to be able to see you. You only stared back in mesmerization, body, and mind entering numbness, stranding you with suspense. 

"I-I," the word stumbled, just like your brain did when he stepped closer, his body pressing against yours, your back hitting the railings. It happened again, trapping yourself in his ardor, eyes floundering to stay open, weakening because of him. At this point, you didn't want anything more than his touch, tippy-toeing to feel his lips on yours again, dissolving in his embrace.

His free hand slid under your shirt, caressing your stomach as he rested his forehead on yours to stare intensely into your eyes, completely emptying your worries and doubts. You whimpered at the move, causing him to pull away with a smirk, whereas you covered your face out of embarrassment. 

"It's ok," he moved it away, stroking it to conceal the chuckle that badly wanted to come out, "I want to know if I'm making you feel good."

The wave of heat ascending had you begging for more, pulling him by his chain, wrapping your arms, unleashing the oxytocin and dopamine out of your system. The serotonin circulating in your blood made you jump on him, luckily getting held and seated on the railings, smiling at your enthusiasm. You weren't comprehending your doings, incapable of reflecting. 

"Someone's eager to have me," he laughed, teasing you with his lip between your lips, sliding in at the moment his hand rested on your thigh, forcing you to gasp and give him the opportunity to show you another compelling experience. You weren't sure if it was supposed to be this luscious or if it was simply the swoon speaking. Either way, your panties started feeling uncomfortable at the stain of arousal they had to absorb, demanding some friction. 

"Spread your legs, princess," he tapped on your thigh, grinning at your immediate reaction, unzipping your jeans to slide them down your ankles. 

"Heeseung, what if someone sees us?" for a minute, rationality entered back, alongside shyness, legs clasping against each other at the cold wind bouncing between them.

"Don't be nervous. Nobody comes here at this time. It's dark anyway, so they wouldn't see us." 

That calmed you a bit, not imagining participating in something like this in public, at the edge of a railing. Risk-taking wasn't in your nature. Nonetheless, something about it was exciting and surprisingly made it more fun. If your past self saw you right now, she would have probably fainted. 

Heeseung was in his world, hand wandering lower out of impatience, drawing circles with his index finger on your inner thighs, the softness of your skin driving him crazy. There was nothing compared to craving someone so badly, and he wanted to cherish every second of your fragile whimpers, his name rolling on your tongue from imploring.

He had never felt this needy for someone, always having had one-night stands to blow off some steam. It wasn't memorable, none of them standing out, simply falling into the repeated cycle without a label, just a blunt recollection. Tonight, however, was going to be an unforgettable memory, and he couldn't stop thinking about it as he reached your clit, replacing his finger with his thumb, and pressing a little to carry out the motion. You bit your lip at the act, still holding on to his arm for support, burying your flushed face in it. 

"Does that feel good, angel?" he whispered in your ear, sucking on your helix, biting playfully to make you squirm underneath. You quietly murmured what sounded like an agreement, battling with the lewd noises your mouth desperately wanted to sound. It only worsened with him picking up the speed, drawing infinity symbols all over, sending your vision to the back of your head.

Without noticing, he brushed his crotch against your leg, softly moaning, provoking you to do the same. You moved your leg in his favor, making sure you weren't putting in too much, falling apart at his hushed moans. 

"Put your hand on it," he pointed, guiding it to his bulge, which was poking through his jeans, warming up in your palm. Your eyes almost fell out of their pockets at the advancement of the situation, practically losing it. 

"That's what you did just by kissing me," he panted, groaning instantly at you gripping it, releasing it gradually, propelling him to curse out loud. It was your curiosity and purity that pushed him over the edge, wondering how long he had before officially hitting the ground from how far he was falling for you. 

"I want to make you feel good too," you pleased, sliding into his pants to stroke his erection through his boxers, watching him soften under your spontaneous dominance.

"Are you sure? You don't have-" His words got cut off by an eager kiss, almost falling over due to the intensity of it, moaning into your mouth while your tongue met his, insides flipping over at the emanating smacks. 

There wasn't a better way to answer that question, his pants falling along his boxers after reaching for a wrapping in one of the pockets. Watching him put on a condom was another shocking discovery for you, learning how wrong your reading about him had been. 

"Here," he lifted you, taking off his leather jacket to place it over the fence before positioning you back on it, uncovering a hidden gentleman. Frankly, all of his actions tonight were new to him, from the way he handled you with care to his eagerness to have you, his member basically twitching at every contact you two shared. He was down bad, and he loved it. 

"Slow, please," you wrapped your arms around his neck, "it's my first time."

"Wait, really?" he held onto the bar for support, too stunned to speak after the revelation, anxiety rushing through his limbs. You nodded, worried it might change his mind about doing it with you. That wasn't his concern, though. It was more about if he should be the person to guide you through it. Not to mention, the place was already a horrible choice, reevaluating his measures. 

"Don't you want to lose it with someone else? You know, someone more special," the self-doubt peeked through, surprising you. 

"No, I want you," the reassurance soothed the tense one. "There's no one else I want to do it with more."

Heeseung stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. The straightforward answer was what he had wanted to hear for years. To be someone's first choice and not a pinch-hitter, to be selected from the various other options. To be wanted by someone, not just for their pleasure but for his as well. He realized at this moment how much it meant, the sudden need to kiss you taking over, aligning his shaft into your wet entrance.

"Is this ok?" 

"Yes, but it hurts a bit," you pulled on his collar, adjusting to the tugging thing between your legs. It was weird, and you weren't sure how much of it he had put already, stressing over how much you could take in. 

"It will soon pass. I'm sorry," he pulled you into another kiss, rubbing against your clit before pushing in again, this time going in a bit deeper, holding you with one arm. It was unpleasant, and you recalled your gynecologist examination, the same pain now ravaging through. You appreciated his effort at making it less painful, trying to be as gentle as possible.

"You're so sweet for a supposed bad boy, you know," you groaned, nails digging into his T-shirt, into his back, to be precise, leaving some marks. Heeseung couldn't wait to look at them in the mirror tomorrow, content as he left some lovely patterns all over your collarbones. 

"I think you have a special effect on me."

A cry parted at the deepening and sayings, walls trying to push out the unfamiliarity, leaving you with more discomfort than necessary, face scrunching up. 

The only thing that kept you going was his worried attentiveness lingering on you, checking in after a bit of kissing and rubbing, concentrating as hard as he could. Fortunately, his gentle manners relaxed you, easing a little the more you gave in, not paying attention to the pain any longer. 

"Is it at least a little better?"

"Yes," you beamed, "I think I can actually feel someth-" A whine cut you short, a weird ecstasy unlocking at his shaft moving, gasping at the feeling. 

"Hm, that's the spot, huh," he kissed your cheek, caressing your hair as he repeated the motion, pushing out the air in your lungs. 

"Oh fuck, is this supposed to feel this good?" you wailed, tugging to his collar for support, your life flashing ahead of you.

"Yes, sweetheart. It means you're doing great" another thrust, this time more powerful, shattering your G-spot. The combination of his voice and nickname made you see stars, wandering in the pleasure emanating.

The only thing you could think about was him, your hand in his big hand, stroking you with his thumb calmly as he sucked on your now puffy lips, placing one between his, perfectly sliding against each other. The slowness of it made your head spin, adding up with his tongue roaming around, transferring his warm saliva with yours, painting your mouth in it.

He roamed in you now since you gave him the green light, the lube on the condom enabling him to slip in easier, your walls sucking him in to keep him inside.

Neither of you had to say anything because your eyes spoke instead in between the passionate ravaging, reaching the depths of each other's soul, smoothing out all of the worries and fears it held on. The comfort you two passed on each other sent you in euphoria, eyes smarting from how good it felt, not believing it was possible. 

"I don't know what's happening, but you're doing things to me," your brows curved up, the pace of his thrusts picking up at the confession.

"If only you knew what you do to me."

"I mean that something is happening," you spoke, indicating to your stomach, "I can feel it building up."

"Oh, you're close?" he face-palmed himself from within, laughing at his awkwardness. 

"I think so," you pulled him closer, planting your nose into his shoulder to conceal your volume. 

"That's alright, cum for me, please," he pleaded, checking if his ears weren't deceiving him. He really begged for you to reach your high on his cock. 

"I think I'll fall in love with you if you keep this up," your fingers dipped in more, orgasm increasing in size with his cock bursting in your dripping hole, catching the wet sounds. 

"Hm, I think I'm one step ahead of you," his groan shoved out, biting on your neck to grant your climax, sensing his approaching hastily.

"I'm gonna cum if you keep talking like that."

"Then be a good girl and make me happy," he conveyed, your pussy immediately tightening up at the words, throbbing as it released your liquids, covering his member in it. 

"Kiss me," he appealed, welcoming your hands on his cheeks and lips on his, the intimacy of it emptying out his load into the condom, groaning into your mouth at the delight spreading all over his body, leaving him panting from the intensity of it.

You stared into his doe eyes while the two of you were catching on your breaths, beaming from the joy surrounding your hearts. He had the most beautiful smile you had ever seen, brushing your finger over his lips before drawing him into another kiss, a long one that showed your gratitude and happiness. 

"I'm so happy right now," you whispered against his lips, giggling at the funny feeling inside your chest. 

"You have no idea how happy I am," he smiled back, pulling you into a deep hug, firing the tears of joy onto your back.

"Why are you crying?" you quickly pushed him away to grab his face and scan for any type of pain, ending up with a big smile instead.

"Because I finally found happiness."

"You silly, you got me worried there for a second," you put his head back into your chest, playing with his hair to not make him see the huge grin growing on your face. 

"I should take you home," he mumbled, hands rubbing your back.

"No, take me to you."

"Wait, like to my house?" he escaped your touch, staring at you to check if he wasn't hearing things. 

"I want to cuddle tonight," you hopped off the fence, pulling back your clothes while he did the same, still looking at you to confirm he wasn't imagining stuff and you really said you wanted to spend the night with him, at his house, in his bed. 

And you were serious, settling it was time to let your heart make the decisions for a change and carry out the night in its favor.

"Let's go, pretty boy."

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Taglist: @end-hyphen, @hee-pster, @jakeswifeyy, @gegeetime, @heerated, @jayked, @forjongseong, @enhastolemyheart

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ^^

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@maggstar

[peachsayshi]

Possibly an unwanted comment but I need to be Nanami’s wife or fiancé and be eaten under the sun by the Italian coast in some yacht away from the hectic life of the corporate world 😭

this comment is not unwanted at all, nonnie.

in fact, I am simply going to give into the thirst and add onto your statement because you are vibing with with the mood of the hour.

like, vacationing with nanami is so dreamy because he is so removed from all the stress in his life. carefree, and unbothered. any added years lifted off his face. he also splurges on vacations away with you - five star hotels; private bungalows; breathtaking resorts or retreats.your vacation time is a seclusion from the noise of everyday life. most of the time, you're not even looking at your phones. entirely engrossed in the other person to want to be preoccupied with other matters.

nanami also prefers sunny vacations; places that are warm and where the sky is blue. where you both can spend many hours sinking your toes beneath the sand or bathing in salt water.

& my goodness, the lovemaking is even different.

the man already has an inclination towards going down on you. he thoroughly enjoys it, even doing so on a regular day to unravel the knots of tension that stretches across his worn down, exhausted body. but he's merciless when you're both on vacation, burying his tongue so deep in your cunt and sucking on your clit until it's throbbing and sensitive, eating you out until your pushing his head away & begging him to stop because you can't handle the sensation anymore.

overstimulated, eyes crossing over.

only then will he press his length between your sopping folds, fucking you until all you can see is twinges of color from the scene around you. sunlight blurring into the sea, practically tasting it's radiance on your tongue as beads of sweat mist off your bodies. his hands grip your hips with tender determination, the gesture speaking that he's got you, that you shouldn't be afraid to lose yourself entirely to the haze of lust. that's he's right here.

you're both so out of breath when he cums. bodies limp and tangled in each other's arms, minutes having to pass before clarity sets in.

*sobs into my palms because I so desperately desire to run way with this man and escape real life*

[that-ari-blogger]

Shallow Beauty (Welcome To Heaven)

I’m going to let you in on a secret. Complexity isn’t always the best fit for a story.

Don’t get me wrong, I love nuanced characters and ideas and judging by the popularity of Arcane, a show that will be getting a second season by the time this post goes live, I think most people enjoy that kind of story as well.

But there is a debate going on as to what is better in a story, complexity and nuance, or simplicity and readability. Honestly, I find this debate frustrating because the answer is neither and both. The sides act as if any attempt at the other is sacrilege when the truth is unfortunately more complicated. Sometimes a story needs twists and surprises, and sometimes a story needs to look you in the eye and say “here’s what I am talking about”.

Case and point, Welcome to Heaven.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (Hazbin Hotel)

I honestly don’t have much to say about this song. It’s not the most popular in the musical and I’m not going to argue that it should be. The song is shallow, and that’s the point.

I think the entirety of this song exists to point out how vibrant Heaven looks, but how empty it feels.

Because starting with the voice acting. St. Peter is voiced by Darren Criss, a man with a gorgeous singing voice. But notice something different between him and, for example, Lucifer. St. Peter's singing is technically perfect.

Perfect is a self-fulfilling adjective. It is the absence of imperfections, with imperfections being defined simply as “things that make something not perfect”. Perfect, especially when used in relation to people, has no meaning.

But singing can be perfect. It can hit all the right notes in just the right way. You can play things safe, and there is the kicker.

Imperfections are character beats. Lucifer’s insistence on jumping the gun with every note says something about him as a person. But St. Peter has none of that. He is a blank slate. He doesn’t have any character, and neither does heaven. But in a paradoxical way, that says a lot about him, doesn’t it?

“’Cause here, we got no worries, got no burglaries, no strife, It's the perfect afterlife.”

Really? Nobody disagrees on anything? Nobody worries? Nobody is stressed?

Two things about that.

The linework on heaven's buildings is done in white, giving it a bright feel, The Colours are pastel, sure, but if the linework was black instead, this would have a different vibe. It differentiates it from Hell and creates a distinct atmosphere.

First, how do you have the resources to upkeep a place where everyone has all their needs met? Like, if it’s magic, can you share that with the people who literally live in hell nearby you. Maybe give them food and stuff if you clearly have stuff to spare.

But second, I call bullshit. Nobody is without worry. Even people who are told they are amazing all their life internalise that unhealthily. And besides, you live next door to hell, a place you feel the need to exterminate once a year. No chance are you all unbothered by everything. Those who benefit the most from the status quo are always the ones terrified of it changing.

Or is it that you aren’t allowed to worry? Do depression, anxiety or even being bipolar get you disqualified from ever going here?

Come to think of it, what does get people into heaven?

"We've got the best and brightest, the politest of the lot And everyone is hot.”

That’s the summary of the people in Heaven. Smart, polite, attractive. Those aren’t moral characteristics.

I can use long words and count to twelve and a half. I can be polite when I need to be. My partner tells me I am attractive, and I think he has the ultimate authority on this kind of thing. But I don’t think any of that makes me morally upstanding, they are just nice things to be.

It’s also worth noting that these things are all subjective. Intelligence comes in different forms and someone who can memorise stuff and someone who can do calculus in their head are smart in different ways. If you are testing for only one of the two, you are missing out on everyone else who has their own field of expertise.

On the other hand, conventional ideas of attraction are seriously flawed and skewed in some uncomfortable directions that society is currently recovering from. Besides that, everyone has their own idea of beauty, and romantic, sexual, and aesthetic attraction are different things.

Also, everyone is hot is not a distinction the show can make. Last I checked, Heaven wasn’t the place with the succubi.

This actually translates into the music, which is standard pop. It sounds like the type of music people who don’t like pop think the genre is made entirely out of. “Life is great, la di da di da.” But it’s disingenuous.

There are emotions that inspire music beyond rage, but contentment and perfection aren’t that. Wonder, joy, love, pride, even catharsis. But contentment?

Pop is all about these emotions. It gets to the soul of its listeners on a real level. The pain of a breakup, the ambition of competing for love, the exhilaration of one incredible night.

Contentment is the emotion for the lowest common denominator, the type of song that plays it safe and doesn’t do anything interesting. Contentment is the emotion antagonistic towards change.

We have already seen that antagonism in full force through Adam. Locations are characters in their own right, and Adam is heaven fighting to conserve its stability. It is addicted to the contentment to the point where it will hold everyone down to stay at the top.

But, it’s self-sabotaging. If Heaven stopped holding people down to stay in place, it could work with everyone else to move forward together and get to an even better place than it is now.

But no, it is static, and boring, and perfect, and polite.

Final Thoughts

I harbour a deep seated contempt for people who put emphasis on politeness for its own sake. Being polite is a tool, it allows you to be clear with someone without letting emotions like anger sabotage yourself. It works when it is needed.

When being polite is not needed and people insist on enforcing rules of conversation that don’t matter, I find that immensely frustrating. Talk how you want, don’t be an asshole, but don’t feel the need to round your vowels for the sake of it.

That’s honestly my take on Welcome To Heaven, it’s pretty for the sake of it and nothing more. It’s simple and shallow. There is nothing behind the “sick décor.” Being polite is fine, but looking down on people who aren’t is just a recipe for disaster.

Next week, however, I will be talking about You Didn’t Know, a song that is anything but simple. So, stick around if that interests you.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being EJP Raijin’s Manager

Suna’s Crush

Rintaro Suna (featuring EJP) x GN! manager

Warnings: fluff!

AN: this is a request from @kitakashi! Also let’s talk about how freaking 😮‍💨🥵 timeskip Suna is ok 🤚🏻

Ok you are definitely one of the lucky ones YN

I mean, EJP Raijin?!?

Have you SEEN their lineup…

Washio from Fukurodani, Komori from Itachiyama and Suna from Inarizaki???

Like are we being fr right now because 😮‍💨

Anyways, you someone how managed to score this literal dream job

And boy are we all jealous!

I want to say EJP is probably a lot calmer than MSBY and even the Adlers

They give stoic yet sensible vibes

And please, they are absolutely a stellar team!

Middle blocking is dominated by Washio and Suna and Komori handles receives

Defense specialists 👏🏻

Nekoma who? We don’t know them 💅

Anyways your job as manager is exciting and fun

The guys all respect you, helping you out as much as they can

Please Komori and Washio drink respect juice every morning

Washio helps you set up the net while Komori helps you collect volleyballs at the end of practice

But there’s one player in particular who is really attached to you 👀

Yep that’s right! Our precious love Suna Rin

Now Suna doesn’t attach himself to just anyone, oh no

He remains mostly aloof, unbothered by most people and things

But there’s just something about their dear manager that draws him in

Maybe it’s the fact that you let him nap on you 🧐

Or maybe it’s because you make the best bento boxes?

Nah it’s definitely because you add the perfect ratio of protein powder to the teams shakes

Or maybe 👀 just maybe it’s because the man is utterly infatuated with you

Oh that’s definitely it 😏

Suna always volunteers to walk you to the train station and even meets you every morning for coffee

This is strange to the team because before you started, Suna was always the last one to arrive for practice

Heck Komori often had the job of getting Suna TO practice

But not anymore, oh no our precious YN has obliterated any need for that 💅

I bet your thinking “there’s no way EJP hasn’t noticed this change” and you would be correct

Because they most definitely did

But unlike our other feral div. 1 teams, EJP isn’t as dramatic

Or at least, that’s what they’d like you to think 👀

They simply by their time, waiting for the right moment to pounce

Now that doesn’t mean they don’t bait Suna

For instance, you often come up in locker room discussion

“You know, YN is really the best manager. They just do such a great job at everything,” Washio gushes

Suna 👉🏻😐

“And they are super hot! Like wow level hot! Like ‘dang this person actually exists outside of a book’ hot!” Komori says

Suna 👉🏻😐😑

“Honestly I’m surprised Yn is single, it’s not like they don’t get fair share of looks. Sometimes I think they get more attention than we do after the game!” Washio adds

Suna 👉🏻😑😠

“For real! Plus have you seen the number of times they’ve gotten asked out? YN showed me their dms and like it’s insane!” Komori says

Suddenly, a locker slams shut as Suna stomps out from the locker room

Komori and Washio 👉🏻😐😏 got ‘em

Suna knows your popular and it drives him insane!

He’s been wanting to ask you out for a while but he doesn’t want to ruin your friendship or professional relationship

Because you see, Suna actually thinks about things outside of his own feelings

Unlike SOME people

*cough* ATSUMUBOKUTOHINATA *cough*

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get jealous

It honestly annoys Komori and Washio that he hasn’t asked you out

Because you see, it’s also obvious to them that YOU like Suna as well

They see how you stare at him and how you smile when he’s around

How you desire to be close to him 🥰

Everyday that passes, they get more and more annoyed that neither of you will make a move

But you see, that’s all about to change

And not because Komori or Washio snaps

Oh no, because the universe has their backs and is sick of this mutual pinning

🙌🏻 picture this 🙌🏻

It’s finally game day and EJP is facing our favs MSBY

😏 you know where I’m going…

And because MSBY isn’t allowed to have a manager yet because they are too feral and might bite, they must simply be satisfied with looking at You

But oh no, that’s not good enough for them

Because our little jackals get so jealous of pretty managers

Especially ones as pretty as you 🥺

So when Atsumu is staring at you a little longer than he should and Suna notices, glaring at his former teammate

Komori and Washio also notice 👀

And ever the opportunist they pounce!

“Hey Yn why don’t you see if the Jackals need help? I mean we’ve got it over here,” Komori suggests

“That’s a great idea Motoya!” You : D

Suna 👉🏻 yeah great idea MOTOYA 😡

You skip over to MSBY as Atsumu continues to stare at you

You smile and laugh with the team as Suna stands there, hands clenched and fuming

“Suna you good man? You look tense?” Washio questions 😏

“I’m fine!” Suna growls out as he turns and stomps away

When the game starts, Suna is on FIRE 🔥

Literally, the wall of Suna

MSBY is struggling hard to score today because Suna is just that on point

When Atsumu attempts a setter dump, Suna shovels it right back in his face scoring a point for EJP

Komori and Washio are standing there like 😌😌

Please they are so satisfied right now

After the game which was dominated by EJP, Atsumu decides he’s going to make the most of this opportunity and ask you out

“Hey YN, I was wondering if you’d like to go out tonight. I could use some consoling,” he says, a sad look on his face

Suddenly a looming presence enters engulfs you

You stiffen, feeling someone behind you as you turn to see Suna literally FUMING 😡

Quick Yn deal with this!

Komori and Washio 👉🏻👀🍿

MSBY 👉🏻 🧍‍♂️👁️👄👁️

“Umm I’m sorry Atsumu but I actually like someone already,” you say as Suna continues to loom

“Oh, yeah no problem-” Atsumu responds, slowly backing away

He has some self-preservation skills ok

You turn to Suna as he continues to glare at Atsumu

Suddenly, he feels lips press to his cheek as he immediately melts

Suna 👉🏻😡😐😳☺️

“YN I like you alot! Would you please go out with me?” He asks as you nodd

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask! Of course I will!” You gush as you hug him, sweat and all

Don’t worry Yn, Komori is totally filming this for you and Suna to watch later 🥰

[lordsukunas]

songs made by black artists that i think would suit jjk characters. oh my god this took forever to format n link songs. anyway, happy black history month yall!!!! i hope yall like this bc im sick of seeing taylor swift pop up in the list of artists gojo would listen to <33

gojo – starboy the weeknd, daft punk + ghost town kanye west, partynextdoor

for starboy it just gave im that nigga vibes, and for ghost town it's just the entire ‘i alone am the honored one’ scene. but mayb it could also be applicable to current gojo? idk.

geto – like a tattoo sade

fun fact: this is actually the inspo for my user!! the whole ‘broken by the burden of his youth’ and ‘hungry for life, thirsty for the distant river’ reminds me of his whole reason for defecting. he's hungry for life (wanting sorcerers to not have to risk their life to protect non-sorcerers & actually live a long, fulfilling life) and thirsty for the distant river (remember when they kept with the race/hallway analogy? yeah, and geto's goal was always going to be unattainable for him simply bc he didn't have the strength)

yuuji – adorn miguel + crooked smile j. cole, tlc

UGGHHH he's just so lovely. the most supportive boy ever i love my son sm, and that is my only justification for my song choices.

megumi – alone willow + nineteen pinkpanthress + answer tyler, the creator

tbh… idk bros been goin thru it this entire series, but esp recently. for answer, i rlly liked the first couple of verses (idk what to actually call it, but it's before the first chorus) bc it aligns well w papaguro n megumi. ig the stepdad could be gojo…?

nobara – no scrubs tlc + conceited flo milli + apeshit the carters + on my mama victoria monét

she takes nobody's bs n i love that for her!!! i feel like she'd absolutely love flo milli + megan thee stallion.

nanami – lotus flower bomb wale, miguel + i love you more than you know black party, childish gambino

sorry i rlly like him y'all... there's no angsty reason for these songs! n for i luv u more than yk, it's just nanami if/when he goes to malaysia :3

choso – do you like me? daniel caesar

i actually dk for this one... i just thought it suited him! yk since he wants to live as a human n when he loves he loves hard (shown by how determined he is to be the best older brother to his lil siblings)

toji – she will lil wayne, drake + foe tha love of $ bone thugs-n-harmony, eazy-e + crack rock frank ocean

i am a firm believer toji would like 90s + early 2000s rap. it just makes sense idk, also i once saw a post that said he died just a bit b4 no hands by waka flocka came out and... hey! for crack rock, it's just post-mamaguro him n instead of crack, it's his gambling addiction

sukuna – hater's anthem infinity song + hit ‘em up 2pac, outlawz + king’s dead jay rock, kendrick lamar, future, james blake + unbothered ski mask the slump god

he's a hater just for my son. bum ass nigga... and for hit em up: ‘don't one of u niggas got sickle cell or sumn? u fuck around n have a seizure or a heart attack’

maki & toji – worst behavior drake

self explanatory! them n their rebellion against the zenin clan <3

gojo & geto – oui jeremih

cause if weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! sorry but this is fueled by geto saying ‘we are the strongest’... thats it :p

[talesof-old]

sweet mornings | b.s.

pairing: bran stark x gn!reader

warning(s): none

word count: 369

winter vibes series

bran and you on cold mornings

prompt: keeping warm, “there’s like, three different things I’d rather be doing right now.”

masterlist

Featherlight strokes along your shoulder slowly drew you from sleep, and it only took you a moment to feel the biting cold on the skin of your cheeks. You sighed, reveling in the touch of Bran as sleep left to your body. Mornings alone were rare these days, what with the many families within the walls of Winterfell and the rationing.

A bird chirped outside and you hummed, tugging the blankets until they covered your shoulders. You were still learning to love the cold.

You curled further into Bran’s body, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck to keep the cold air at bay. Winter had been brutal so far, leaving you frozen to the bone with nearly no hope of getting warm. Bran, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered. You’d assumed it was probably due to living beyond the Wall for so long.

“We can’t lay here all day.”

Bran whispered against your crown, a smile in his words he didn’t bother to hide. You grinned, eyes still closed, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. You’d stay here as long as possible. In here, the responsibilities of your positions couldn’t touch you, and you could simply be yourselves.

“Or,” you mumbled, voice still raspy from sleep, “we could stay in here until someone comes looking.”

He let out a light scoff and you huffed, clinging to him even more. The fur blankets atop your bodies tickled your cheeks and you sighed in contentment. Bran traced circles along your skin, ice cold hands soothing along your overheated body. There was something so soothing to his presence.

“I’m not sure I can do that,” humor dripped from his voice. “There’s like, three different things I’d rather be doing right now.” You pushed yourself up, indignation written across your face. Bran was smiling, the edges of his eyes crinkled as he watched you.

You gave him a playful shove and scoffed, an exaggerated huff leaving your lips. He chuckled, reaching for you to wrap his arms around your bare shoulders.

“I love you.” His words were simple, spoken as a statement rather than a declaration. Adoration lined every syllable.

You hummed, leaning into him.

“And I you.”

[codename-adler]

28: Yanko Florescu (22) USC Trojans Backliner

(USC Trojans lineup of OCs)

Ah, big ginger man makes Mateo brain go brrrr!

*Yanko is supposed to have a little bit grown out buzzcut but I couldn't find a gif that satisfied my mental image so. That but cropped. He shaves it every month on the 28th. Call that sports superstitions.

With Jean, Viggo and Nikita, he is one of the tallest Trojans, standing at 6'4. With Nikita also, and Mari, and others, one of the most unproblematic teammate ever. He is so chill, but in a different way than others. Mari is chill because she does not care enough about anyone's bs outside of Exy; Nikita is chill because of his infinite patience and open mind. Yanko? Nothing fazes him, because he is so inside his own mind, minding his own business, that rarely anything else registers, and if something does show up on his radar, he does not have an overly sensitive personality, so he is able to put his emotions aside and deal with what's at hand. He might be on the AS in that area. You tell me. However, nobody on the team, and I mean nobody, has ever seen him lose his cool, either in anger or sadness. He has the occasional goofy-looking smile, or a small private thing. He's very good at straight-faced comebacks. If he's acting silly, his face rarely shows anything but a mischievous glint.

Yanko can appear scary, because he's very tall, very quiet. minimally expressive, and his goddamn fucking blue eyes are very... there. He might seem broody and gruff, but that's because his brain-to-mouth connection isn't always working, and he really enjoys being in his own bubble, so sometimes if you intrude on that time, it takes him a few seconds before he understands what is happening but his facial expression might take over before he has the chance to adapt. He's just a big mountain man, big to survive and adapt to harsh winters, not to harm! But his opponents would differ.

He does resemble Mari a lot, but they really don't have the same vibe, trust me. They are not on the same wavelength. Mari carefully curates how she experiences life so as not to get bullshit and waste energy on things and people that don't matter. Yanko is just that unbothered because he does not see the point. Physical embodiment of 'it is what it is' you know?

His two best friends are George A. and Viggo. Though those two are a piece of work because they always be in impossible situations Yanko has to get them out of, he likes them for their lightheartedness, and because they make him happy. And they know it. They don't tell him to smile more, or let loose. They love him as he is, love how reliable and steady he is, how helpful and generous he is. Yanko likes to simply be in their presence, no matter how loud they can be, no matter the trouble they attract.

Yanko was born in the US to Romanian parents, he studies Psychology at Dornsife and he goes Pro after college. He is a very, very smart and hard-working student/person.

He is the sunscreen dealer, because that man would have burned 5 years ago if he hadn't ransacked a Costco. He's got tubes and balms and jars everywhere: car, backpack, locker, dorm, duffel, emergency kit, etc.

Now the Mateo part.

Yanko has always been of the same opinion as Kevin Day: it's easier to remain heterosexual. Even lower than that: it's easier to remain single. He's not a high-maintenance guy by any means, but all his relationships' beginnings were always just that, beginnings. He has a deep, deep potential and will to invest himself wholly in another person's wellbeing, but girls usually break it off, gently or not, before it even gets there. He's peculiar, he gets it, but it begins to feel draining to have to start over every time. He doesn't want to hear another 'you're too quiet' or 'you never look like you enjoy my presence'. He doesn't want nor have to explain himself, and so if the date really can't see past that, then he's not going to dedicate energy and time to that. After high school, he completely stops looking for dates. Instead, he works on himself, and knowing himself. Plus, Psychology and Exy? Yeah, no, he'll pass on girls.

That's right, girls. Yanko has never dated men, ever, and never even thought about it. If he doesn't even think about dating, thinking of dating a guy is even less probable. It's just not... something he registers. So this... thing, with Mateo? First time for him too. And yeah, Mateo is a weird af choice for a gay awakening, because he might be pretty, but he's a whole-ass bastard. Eh, what can you do.

Because Yanko is very difficult to piss off, to get a reaction out of, he's kind of perfect to handle Mateo and his demons. The catch, though, is that Yanko also suddenly becomes very good at pushing Mateo's buttons. In a way, it helps Mateo to expulse all the shit that pollutes his brain, so he's calmer afterward. But it also gives Yanko special power over Mateo. And Yanko kind of likes that.

He is not in denial, okay? I swear. He's just so fucking oblivious. He doesn't put the finger on the actual thing until he literally kisses Mateo. And he has the galls to be so fucking smug about it. Like the cat that got the cream, Archimedes who figured out his eureka or whatever it is. Mateo is able to make him feel that way. Proud and powerful in ways he never felt before.

Yank takes it in stride like a fucking champ. It's like 'Welp, I'm dating Mateo now. He is my squishy and I like him so much. No, he sucks to you. Now back to our regular program: Exy. Yippee!' It's really, really not that deep. The romance part is more nerve-wracking than the gender part, if anything. He doesn't want to lose the essence of what he has developed with Mateo.

Of course it's much more complicated on Mateo's end, like I said, but Yanko knows, and feels, that he is not a waste of time and energy. That he actually motivates Yanko. He simply waits him out. He's there whenever Mateo needs, whenever he wants, and doesn't ask for anything in return, because what is the rush? It does make Mateo mad and jealous that Yanko is taking this so well, but it's also a steadying presence, that when the world is collapsing around you to take a new uncertain shape, Yanko is just there, same as he always was, ready to back you up, push you further, steady hand upon your back.

Anddd wrapping up on the cool & unproblematic king now!

[pain-in-the-butler]

How do you think Black Butler will end? 😭 Most people think that Sebastian will eat Ciel's soul and that will be it. Which does sound the most likely I guess but I also see people saying that R!Ciel and Undertaker are planning something to save O!Ciel. I hope for this more than Sebastian eating Ciel's soul. And I think it's possible too. I just find it really odd that R!Ciel seems to hate O!Ciel now after everything. Like surely he understands why O!Ciel did what he did? Plus, they did have a special bond too. I just don't think R!Ciel truly hates him

It's hard to say what R!Ciel is capable of understanding at this point, considering he's no longer a living human. It's possible he doesn't have all his memories, or that those memories have been altered. It's also possible he does have his memories but he isn't the person he used to be. People have referred to R!Ciel as yandere, and that seems to be the vibe that Yana is going for. I think R!Ciel does love his brother, but something about that love seems twisted and jagged. Still, I think in the right circumstances, he may be capable of gentleness and honesty again.

Undertaker has explicitly stated he doesn't want to lose any more Phantomhives, so he probably is trying to "save" Ciel, whatever that means for him. We've seen that his actions are slightly counter-intuitive, like he's trying to challenge Ciel by putting him in dangerous situations with the knowledge that Sebastian will come save him. He seems to both admire and dislike Sebastian. He's weird and I won't pretend to understand him.

Ciel is my favorite character in the series, and it will be hard to see him die. It will be harder not to see him die. The story has showed us every step of the way that Ciel is doomed by the narrative, a boy who lives under a false identity and is not capable of preventing his own death but simply of prolonging it. He brushes away all attempts for others to get closer to him. He kills people and lies to his family. He tells himself he's unbothered, but his crimes haunt his dreams and he wakes up screaming. How long can he go on like this, especially when his motivation for living in the first place is revenge?

If we had perhaps seen a steady inclination in Ciel towards love and kindness over the course of the series, I would wonder if he might fight for his life in the end. But instead I feel like Ciel has been a pretty stagnant and unchanging character. I think he did remember how to smile, and he seemed perhaps a tiny bit more comfortable around his friends right before the Blue Cult arc began… but he's also happy to use them in his schemes and refuses to acknowledge that they mean something to him. He doesn't want people to die, but he's still willing to kill. He doesn't live for the sake of life anymore - he lives with the knowledge that his soul will be taken, and sooner rather than later.

Ciel being as unchanging as he’s been is a little boring to me, but it can at least be thematically relevant if his inability to waver off the path of revenge is what ultimately kills him. If Ciel doesn't reach out to anybody, doesn't try to change his fate, and doesn't become more interested in living, than what is the narrative purpose of saving Ciel? What would his being alive mean? If Ciel were a real child, none of this would matter, but he's a character in a story, and if the writing is good, his life or death should serve a greater purpose.

You could say that his survival would mean "everyone deserves to live," but that would be weird because Yana has already showed us via her own storytelling that not everyone in her universe deserves to live. You could say that his survival would play into the story's themes of rebirth, but Ciel already had his "rebirth" moment when he chose to return as his brother. Not to mention, "being alive" is not the same thing as "living." Is it rewarding, again strictly narratively, if Ciel is alive when he no longer knows what it means to live? Isn't that a tragedy all the same, only now it's one that doesn't match the themes Yana's already presented?

This got a little winding, and I'm starting to lose my train of thought here, but ultimately my point is, I think Ciel has to die or else the story unravels and loses its larger meaning. But I know others will feel like Ciel living would give the story meaning instead and I'll happily be disagreed with! I love discussing writing, so please feel free to add a rebuttal. Thank you for the ask!